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talesofadragon · 11 months

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𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝

Synopsis: The Kingdom of Brooklyn needs a queen, and the Royal Council needs a noble princess. As for newly crowned King Steven Rogers, he needs a love that rebels against conformity, granting him the solace he yearns for. So what happens when all he needs is not what his kingdom wants?

Pairing: King!Steve Rogers x Chambermaid!Reader

Warnings: None.

Genre: Angst | Fluff

Word Count: 6.1K

Author’s Notes: Requested by the sweetest @crazyunsexycool. Thank you, Val, for this wholesome idea! To all Marvel fans out there, go check out her incredible work!🩵

All Masterlists | Steve Rogers Masterlist

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐅𝐔𝐋 and deceiving word in history will evermore be art. At first glance, it’s enticing, delicate, and memorable. A barrage of emotional responses to the tragedies and the grievances of life. Whether in color or in monochrome, in words or emotions, art is a melodrama that lures you in, pulls you toward its undertow. Until there comes a time when you realize that all these stories were never quite this scintillating, they just were.

“Your Majesty.”

Steve shakes his head as the voice registers in his mind. It takes him a fleeting moment, about five seconds, to realize that he stands within the confines of his chambers. The vibrant rays of the morning sun cascade through the windows, casting an ardent glow. Another five minutes elapse as Steve blinks away his confusion, his gaze withdrawing from the withered pages of his sketchbook, evidence of the relentless assault of his charcoals and ink.

“Maiden Katherine,” he acknowledges the chambermaid in his room. Her eyes are downcast, evading his cerulean hues. “Pardon me, what was it that you said?”

The young woman gasps, though covers it quickly with a cough. Her errant gaze lands briefly on Steve before it strays away once more. “Your Majesty, I was merely asking if you needed anything more.”

A fleeting furrow emerges between Steve's eyebrows, and he casts a swift glance around the room. To his surprise, he finds it immaculate, untouched by the tumultuous night he had spent, forming dents in his rugs and battling wars within the confines of his sheets.

As Steve turns his gaze toward Maiden Katherine, a gentle smile graces his lips. Unable to discern the woman's face due to her position, he finds himself succumbing to a glimmer of hope, however fleeting and insubstantial. Within the recesses of his imagination, he relishes the liberty to conjure an image of someone entirely different, a figure who embodies the yearnings of his heart.

“No,” he says, somewhat resentfully. Because his needs are conditional, and what he truly desires cannot be attained beyond the realm of his mind. “That will be all. Thank you.”

Maiden Katherine dutifully bows to her king, leaving him to his own devices. As soon as the door closes, Steve reaches back to trace the somber outlines of his sketchbook. Once more, his mind veers away from the confines of his chambers, transporting him to a realm far brighter.

SEVENTEEN YEARS AGO

King Joseph and Prince Steven are a juxtaposition.

The King is the valiant moon. The Prince is the selfless sun. The former breathes preservation and prowess, while the latter longs for equilibrium and benevolence. And no matter their dualism, King Joseph sees otherwise, constantly building bridges upon bridges to force his son to concede and meet him. Not in the middle, but where he stands—light years away.

Steve, though ten years old, has a keen sense of understanding. His mother, Sarah, never misses a chance to remind him that he’s a whirlwind for this world, and he couldn’t possibly disagree.

When, like today, the pressures of the crown seem too hard to grapple with, Steve decides to step away. Not forever. Just a little while, until he’s able to face them all again.

He’s at the Royal Gardens, a place he hasn’t visited since last spring after his allergies restricted him to his room. Now, almost a year later, he comes back, disappointed to see that his favorite tree has grown faster than he has.

Steve approaches it, hands on hips and lips pursed in thought. How am I supposed to climb it now? he asks himself. He wishes Bucky was here, but he knows his best friend has sparring lessons, so he tries his very best to follow his own lead and climb it.

He tries to climb, and he manages to pull himself up, but three branches and a half are more than enough to steal his breath. He sighs, seeing that he can’t climb higher. His hands ache from the effort.

Just as Steve contemplates his next move, a small voice calls out, “What are you doing up there, silly?” Startled, he turns his gaze downward, meeting a pair of eyes that feel both familiar and unknown.

“Who are you?” he asks the young girl in the blue dress. He knows she’s not a princess from the fabric’s quality, though her charming face suggests otherwise.

“I asked you first.”

Steve laughs at the girl’s spirited nature. “I am sitting.” She narrows her eyes, unsatisfied with his response. “I like sitting up here. The tree overlooks the castle grounds. It’s nice.”

The girl hums, accepting his answer. She looks up and then around before meeting his eyes again. “Do you care for some company?”

Steve would normally say no. Aside from Bucky, he doesn’t like to spend time with anyone. But the little girl seems nice and curious, something he decides that he likes about her. So he nods his head.

He watches the faint smile on her lips as she holds tightly to the nearest branch and places her weight on it. Within a couple of seconds, she perches herself on the branch facing him.

“Hi.”

“Hi!” she giggles, kicking her feet in the air. Now that she’s closer, he can see that she’s much smaller than him. A few years younger too. He watches her lean against the tree’s trunk, gazing around with pure wonder. “You’re right. It is quite nice here.”

Steve shares a laugh with her before speaking again. “Who are you?”

“I’m Y/N,” she announces confidently. He likes it. Both her name and her attitude. “And you?”

He bites the inside of his cheek. Steve has been conditioned to answer this question in one way only: Crown Prince Steven Grant Rogers of Brooklyn. But he’s scared that if Y/N hears this, she might jump down and leave him alone.

He thinks she’s adorable and kind. Definitely someone Bucky is going to like. So, instead, he says something else. Something he’s never said to anyone. “I’m Steve.”

“Nice to meet you, Steve! How old are you?”

“I’m ten,” he replies apprehensively. He knows that he looks much younger because of his height and weight.

Y/N seems to disagree, marveling at his answer. She beams, kicking her legs higher. “I’m six. Is it nice to be ten? My momma says the number ten is a two-digit number, so it’s bigger than six.”

Steve barely blinks before a soft chuckle escapes his lips. He leans forward a little bit, making sure not to fall. Y/N is sitting there with anticipation governing her features, eagerly waiting for an answer.

“It’s nice. I can retire to bed a bit later than usual.” That seems to satisfy Y/N, who claps excitedly in response. “I have never seen you before,” Steve then remarks.

Y/N hums. “My momma is Queen Sarah’s new chambermaid. I came to the castle with her.”

“Oh.”

Y/N nods. “And you? Does your momma work here, too?”

“Somewhat, yes,” Steve replies. A comfortable silence stretches for a while, both kids hidden amongst the tree branches, listening to the humming of the birds and the voices of the wind.

The birds fly around, some even landing atop the tree and catching Y/N’s attention. She marvels at them, then she suddenly stands up, looking at Steve.

“It must be nicer up there for the birds to sit. Shall we go see?”

Steve hesitates. His blue eyes fill with apprehension as they count the number of branches left. There are six in total, two more than there were last spring. The tree is not too far from the ground, yet high enough for Steve to break his bones if he decides to venture up.

“I can’t climb that high,” he sighs dejectedly.

Y/N cranes her head to study Steve’s face. “Do you want to?” she asks to which he nods. “Then of course you can. You simply need a little help.”

She says it so lightheartedly and surely, it makes Steve’s heart soar. Y/N braces herself and climbs one more branch. She extends her hand, palm open for Steve to take. He hesitates, knowing he shouldn’t and that his father will surely scold him for his actions.

Y/N shakes her hand once, silently asking him to take it. Without thinking much, Steve does. Two minutes later, he finds himself atop the tree with two birds and a new friend.

PRESENT DAY

Steve exhales loudly, his gaze fixed upon the tree etched within the pages of his sketchbook. He traces the delicate curves with his eyes, although he knows them by heart. Every intricate detail is etched into his memory from the countless days spent perched upon the tree’s branches alongside Y/N.

With a wistful glance, he closes the sketchbook and casts it aside, a reminder that before this artful piece and the memories it holds existed, there only ever was an unadorned tree.

“Your Majesty, I can say with absolute certainty that if you continue to wear that expression, it won't be long before the entire court assumes the Robe Bearers have skillfully concealed a stick within your regal attire.”

“Bucky,” Steve grumbles. Though when he catches his reflection in the mirror, he relents, knowing his best friend, and Lord High Constable, isn’t all too wrong. He raises his hand to dismiss his attendants. They bow and exit, leaving the two men alone. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be anywhere else?”

Dramatically as always, Bucky covers his heart with his palm. He looks down, seemingly wounded, before his cobalt blue eyes lift. “I am deeply wounded by your implicit dismissal and your forthright irritation, My King.”

Steve rubs a hand down his face. He has endured twenty-seven years with this man, and sometimes, he wonders if befriending Lord James Buchanan Barnes was a good idea. He knows him all too well now. And if those remarks are any indication, Bucky is, without a doubt, mere seconds away from asking him what’s wrong.

So Steve speaks his mind before the questions begin. “Must I attend this ball?”

“You are the King,” Bucky replies. “And tonight you shall not only be celebrated but you shall also—”

“Subdue to the Royal Council’s wishes and secure the future of the throne.”

Steve’s words have a bite to them. They’re sharp and terse, accentuating the resentment he feels toward this ordeal. He walks away from Bucky, attempting to gather his wits before saying anything else. He sits down on his large bed, one hand on his knee and the other holding his chin.

“Do not think of it this way.”

“How else must I think of this when I have no say?”

“Perhaps you don’t have the freedom of choice when it comes to the matter, but you still have a choice, Steve,” Bucky reminds him. He joins his side, sitting next to him on the edge of the bed. He taps him on the shoulder, letting his hand linger there. “The Council has dictated that you shall marry, but only you shall choose who.”

You couldn’t be more wrong, Steve says to himself. He looks away, the words a sharp slap to his face. He’s never been one for conformity, and Bucky knows this. He’s aware of Steve’s rebellious tendencies and audacious disregard for the Crown's decisions.

Steve knows what this kingdom needs—what queen it longs to have. So why should it be one of noble descent when it could be one of noble spirit? What significance holds the nature of her blood, when in truth, we are all blood in nature?

“If the choice was truly mine, I would choose no one but her.”

His eyes are still errant, following a pathway of their own. Though he can’t see it, he feels Bucky’s heavy gaze on him.

“I should have known you were thinking of Y/N back then,” Bucky comments. He nudges Steve’s shoulder with his until the King concedes and gives the Lord his full attention. He remains quiet, though his eyes say it all. “When are you never thinking about her?”

“How is she faring?” Steve asks. Each letter is spelled with a plethora of emotions. Carved with longing and desire. It has been a considerable length of time since Steve last laid eyes upon Y/N. Ever since his father banished her to a distant corner of the castle, accompanied by strict instructions to avoid any form of interaction with Steve.

“Well. Though it is beyond evident that she misses you terribly. The mention of you is the only thing that seems to brighten her day.”

The answer draws a small smile on Steve’s face. He nods, his mind already taking a trek on its own accord, reminiscing the days Steve had spent with Y/N growing up, picturing her dulcet smile and the light that inhabited her eyes.

Steve has forever been a captive of duty. The blood coursing through his veins tethers him to the crown while unwavering loyalty anchors him to his kingdom. His spirit, alas, was never truly his own, and his heart had long been barricaded by the Council. However, within his mind, a sanctuary exists where his thoughts could roam, untamed and unrestrained, as they collide and soar amidst the vivid memories of Y/N and the alluring freedom she perpetually bestows.

He is on the cusp of replying. With what, he isn't quite sure yet. The mere thought of Y/N has left him momentarily speechless, his mind struggling to find the right words. But the insistent knock on his door reverberates louder than any words he could muster.

“Enter,” Steve says as Bucky straightens and stands up.

The door opens and in walks Peter, one of the new guards in Brooklyn. “Your Majesty.” Peter bows. “Lord Barnes.”

“What is it, Peter?” Steve asks.

“His Majesty, King Father Joseph, is requesting your presence.”

Something within Steve throbs, an ache that resonates through his being. His father possesses an innate knack for impeccable timing, a seemingly supernatural ability to intrude upon Steve's most cherished moments.

Reluctantly, Steve pushes himself up and follows Peter to his father's quarters. He treads the well-worn path, the bitterness seeping through every step. The portraits lining the walls and the chandeliers adorning the taupe ceilings are all too familiar, etched into his memory from countless prior journeys.

His footsteps weigh heavily upon the carpet, each one echoing his disdain for the impending encounter. He takes in a deep breath, steeling himself before the guards deliver a resounding knock, heralding his arrival. With a measured breath, he crosses the threshold and enters the room.

Upon doing so, the pain within him heightens, intensifying to a raw and poignant state. It feels as if every fiber of his being wants to claw its way out from within. His gaze fixates on his father, who lies weak and feeble on the bed, attended to by hovering nurses. Yet, within Steve's mind, contrasting images begin to form.

He envisions himself from years past, confined to his own bed, accompanied by illness and fragility as constant companions. But gradually, the image takes on a bitter-sweet memory.

SEVEN YEARS AGO

Steve shakes, uncertain whether it's the cold air or his nightmares that make him tremble. His room feels empty and lonely since his mother's departure, and his father is too busy to give him a second thought. Bucky is off with the troops, stuck in endless meetings. The looming war hangs heavy in the air, and Steve's father has made his choice of soldier, and it's not him.

Steve hates it. Hates being so useless. He cannot even fight for his kingdom, so how is he supposed to rule it one day? He huffs an exasperated sigh, turning around in his sheets. He shuts his eyes, partially because he wants to sleep and purely because he’s trying to force himself not to cry.

It’s not working, though, as he feels the world closing in. The ceiling’s shadows are suddenly creeping closer, and the walls are wailing as they speed ahead. The door to his chambers squeaks, and he thinks it’s flying off its hinges. But in an unexpected shift, the world around him takes on a different hue, one that brings a soothing and calming sensation he didn't anticipate.

“Stevie.” His eyes snap open, and in that instant, he becomes aware of the rapid pounding of his heart.

“Y/N?”

“I heard you weren’t feeling your best.” Y/N smiles sheepishly. She moves a strand of her long wavy hair away, taking a tentative step closer. “I thought, perhaps, you needed some company.”

Steve wants to say a lot of things. But seeing her in her long blue-green dress made him fall quiet. He’s always loved that color on her. It’s his favorite.

You look beautiful, he tries to say. I have missed you. How are you faring? But nothing of the sort comes out.

“You will be in trouble if you get caught,” he hears himself say. Instantly he regrets it. But Y/N doesn’t seem to mind.

She shakes her head and moves closer. “Being with you is no trouble at all, my prince," she murmurs, settling down beside him and clasping his hand in her own. Steve occasionally wishes his hands were larger, more powerful. He feels a pang of shame for the thoughts that have crossed his mind, imagining the different ways his hands would hold her and explore every inch of her being.

His temperature rises at the thought, and even Y/N feels it. She hovers over him, pressing her lips sweetly to his forehead. His eyes close involuntarily. One of his hands weekly clutch Y/N’s own while the other fists her dress. Steve moans under his breath. “You are burning up,” she says with concern lacing her tone. She moves away, and Steve instinctively reaches for her. She sees the worry in his eyes, deciding to brush it away by running her fingers through his hair. “I will not leave, Your Highness.”

“Y/N,” he grumbles weakly.

Y/N smiles, reaching for the bowl of water and the wet rag left behind. “I will not leave you, Steve. I promise.”

PRESENT DAY

“Steve,” King Joseph calls.

Steve is engulfed in a whirlwind of internal battles, ignited by his father's actions that have shattered everything. Promises that were never his to break have been torn apart, and as a result, Steve decides that he's unable to forgive him. He feels no trace of mercy toward him. No trace of love.

The coronation ball is a spectacle of extravagance, opulence, and sheer absurdity. The entire Brooklyn Court has gathered along with monarchs from neighboring kingdoms.

King Stark graces the event with his Queen and their young Princess, joined by King Thor, Queen Sif, and Prince Loki. Steve's gaze catches sight of his trusted Lord Chancellor, Samuel “Sam” Wilson, engaged in conversation with his father and the King of Wakanda.

And though he cannot see him, he knows Bucky must be lurking in the shadows, sharing a hidden moment with Princess Romanoff.

Steve lingers for a few moments before revealing his presence. He stands atop the banister, peering down at the chaos he is about to face. His gaze sweeps across the room, longing for a glimpse of someone familiar, although deep down he knows it's merely a futile hope.

With a heavy sigh, he descends the stairs, fully aware that his destiny lies in wait.

"Announcing His Royal Majesty, King Steven Grant Rogers."

The music begins, and the doors swing open. Steve steps forward, discomforted by the weight of all the attention upon him. He offers nods as others bow and curtsy, attempting to keep a smile on his face. Reaching the throne, he settles into it with more haste than necessary. As soon as he is seated, his subjects rise from their positions.

"Thank you all for joining us tonight," he declares, projecting his voice with a hint of implicit hesitation. “We’re honored to welcome you to Brooklyn Palace. Please, do enjoy yourself. May this merry occasion pave the way ahead for our kingdom.”

The crowd cheers enthusiastically, chanting Steve’s name and singing his praises. They raise their hands in the air and clap without restraint, though Steve doesn’t hear them. He’s out of tune with his senses, his consciousness hauntingly distant. Suddenly and prematurely, he’s thrust back into the moment. He doesn’t know how to react when Princess Sharon enters his line of sight.

“Your Majesty,” she curtseys. Steve has always noticed that she overdoes it, lowering herself far more than necessary. Sam once remarked she did it to appear meek and subdued—traits many men apparently seek in a woman—Bucky, on the other hand, remarked that she was desperate for attention.

“Princess Carter.”

“Sharon, Your Majesty,” she rectifies while meeting his eyes. “You may call me Sharon. If you please, Your Majesty.”

To his ears, it’s more of a plea than anything else. Which is why he doesn’t recede. Engaging in idle conversation with her isn't what he desires, for he can already discern the thoughts swirling within her mind, mirroring the thoughts of many other women in the palace. His father had made it unequivocally clear that Steve cannot rule without a queen by his side.

“Your Majesty,” Sharon’s voice beckons. Steve gazes at her, failing to mimic her enthusiasm. “Are you not going to ask me to dance?”

No, he feels the need to say. I do not wish to dance with anyone. But the musicians are getting ready and his father is pinning him down with a glare.

Reluctantly, he extends his hand and picks Sharon’s. “Of course.” Steve kisses the back of her hand. Carefully, he leads her to the dance floor, front and center, waiting for everyone to join.

Bucky stands to his right and Sam to his left. Facing them are Princess Natasha and Duchess Wanda, respectively. Kings Tony, Thor, and T'Challa join next, accompanied by their Queens.

Gradually, the room transforms into a parade of eager guests, lining up in anticipation of the forthcoming dance. A cacophony of music erupts, and the rhythm permeates the air, setting the stage for a whirlwind of movement.

The men bow with a flourish, while the ladies curtsy in graceful synchronization. In the timeless tradition of the dance, they take a bold step forward, closing the distance between them. Steve's hands, steady yet tinged with anticipation, find their place upon the small of Sharon’s back, guiding her with gentle precision.

He sweeps across the dance floor, leading Sharon in elaborate and pristine circles. Her gaze on him is imperturbable, features soft under the lights of the chandelier. Steve cannot understand how her eyes can be so alight—they’re looking at him as if he was the present and the future when he is, in fact, counting the musical notes, anticipating the next switch in partners.

The dance is Steve’s “seven minutes in heaven,” as Sam so eloquently worded it. Though, in reality, it’s a vicious torment. This dance offers Steve the chance to dance with four women—three for two minutes and one for no more than a fleeting sixty seconds. And luckily for him, Sharon’s two minutes are now up.

He spins her to the right, fueled by a sense of anticipation at the thought of stealing a precious moment of respite. She leaves his arms, and he breathes deeply for a moment before Princess Shuri joins him.

"Your Majesty, do me a favor and grace us with a smile. I would hate for my brother to be proven right. He is constantly rambling about how my mere presence seems to unsettle everyone around."

Steve offers Shuri beyond what she has asked for. A heartfelt laugh tumbles from his lips, and he’s elated to know that the music is far louder than his unrestrained chortle.

“Your presence is welcome and cherished, Princess Shuri.” Steve dips the princess, ensuring she doesn’t fall. He brings her back on her feet and continues with the rest of the choreography. “Tell T’Challa you are the single spark of joy and delight this evening has brought.”

“Oh, I will most certainly tell him that.”

With a final smile, Steve releases his grip on Shuri, allowing her to navigate her way toward Loki's outstretched arms. Though her departure may lack grace, it’s far more captivating to watch than the arrival of yet another noble lady, who is now nestled in his arms.

Princess Carol’s face is stoic, and her movements feel robotic, pre-programmed. The silence between her and Steve is tumultuous as the prince leads her through the dance. He’s grateful for her aloofness, granting him the chance to focus on something else other than an unnecessary conversation, or worse yet, a proposal.

His blue eyes meander, traversing the room with a wandering gaze. In the midst of his observation, he catches sight of Princess Natasha and Marquess Barton engaged in a dance. Their movements may lack the refinement of the other nobles, but they appear unperturbed, swaying to a rhythm that is uniquely theirs. Steve notices Natasha intermittently locking eyes with Bucky, exchanging playful winks and smirks that stir a bitter sensation within him.

He thinks he will never experience this. Never be given the chance to love with all his heart and not his mind. To love for love and not the kingdom. To live for his love to rule and not to rule for his love to die.

Princess Carol slips from his grasp with unexpected swiftness, leaving Steve momentarily stunned. His attention lingers on her abrupt departure, forgetting the need to steady himself.

As Steve's palm rests open, a hand slips into his, catching him off guard. His arm instinctively reaches out, hastening to steady the woman who has joined him. The sudden touch electrifies his senses, igniting a rush of anticipation within him.

Blue orbs lock onto a wistful masterpiece, refusing to blink and allowing the moisture to gather, lending a subtle glassy sheen. Steve's steps falter, his footing shaken. Only now does he realize that he has been granted six minutes to breathe and a single dance partner that has stolen his every breath.

At this moment, Steve grasps the true might of the human mind as the dance fades into the background though his feet glide effortlessly across the floor. His heart races with joyous abandon, his thoughts sprint in a frenzy, and his eyes struggle to keep pace, captivated by the dazzling radiance emanating from the figure in front of him.

Steve's eyes fixate on the familiar turquoise dress adorning the woman’s figure, a sight he has imagined countless times in his most indulgent thoughts. Yet, reality surpasses any fantasy he could conjure. With fervent intensity, he absorbs every detail of the woman before him, noting the familiarities that stir his heart and the subtle differences that ignite a sense of curiosity.

He towers over her now, his height surpassing hers by more than an inch. His presence is imposing, a protective and ardent force. They stand close, near enough for her to catch glimpses of green in his eyes and for him to feel the softness of her bodice against his chest.

Time passes, maybe a minute, or perhaps more. He doesn’t know. Because with her, time is a paradox, too complex to comprehend. Or perhaps, plain unnecessary.

He notes that no one is dancing, noble men and women retreating to the ballroom's margins. They're entranced by Steve and his partner. Their glances multifaceted, both welcoming and unnerving. But he doesn't pay attention to them. Not when the musicians are still playing, granting him an infinity of respite.

He clutches the woman tighter, lifting her up in the air. The light catches the tiara on her head, the one he had specifically requested for her as a gift on her sixteenth birthday. She had once refused to wear it, claiming she wasn't a princess. And she was right. She's not just a princess; she's a queen.

There is so much to say. Too many questions to ask. And yet, Steve can only whisper one thing as he sets her down on her feet, his lips lingering close to her ear.

“You are divinity in human nature, and I have evermore longed to confess to you this.”

Y/N says nothing, but the gasp that tumbles out and the fingers that trace Steve’s elbow speak of it all. “You haven’t changed,” she notes. He shakes his head and gives her a disbelieving look as if to urge her to look at him again. “You are just as warm and just as kind. Just as beautiful,” she enunciates, whispering the last part.

The words reach his ears, carrying with them a genuine sincerity that resonates deep within him. He releases a soft exhale, a breath that caresses her face. Her delicate lashes gracefully meet, pulling his attention away from her magnetic eyes to her angelic smile.

Steve is captivated by every aspect of her presence, his senses entranced by the enchantment that surrounds them both. “I have longed for you,” he admits. Immediately, Y/N's eyes burst open, revealing a clash of waves within her irises—a turbulent ocean of swirling emotions.

“I’ve heard, and I’m here to satiate your longing, My King.”

"Prince," Steve corrects briskly. As he holds her waist, Y/N places both hands on his chest. He tenderly caresses her bottom lip. "Don't cease to see me in a different light now, princess."

“I am not a princess,” Y/N refutes. “As for the last half of your sentence, no matter who you become to the world, you will always be my prince, Stevie.”

In that brief moment, her eyes reveal a vulnerability that tugs at Steve's heartstrings. “Y/N, tell me you are truly here. Tell me this is not yet another deceiving portrait my mind has conjured.”

“I am real.”

“How?”

“Queen Mother Sarah,” she admits. Her voice carries a tinge of sadness at the memory of the late queen. “Before her demise, she called for me. You were away at the time, fighting the war against Hydra’s army. She made me swear to attend your coronation ball. To be by your side once more.”

Oh, mother. Steve stands in disbelief. Though his mother passed seven years ago, her presence lingers within him. A constant source of comfort and guidance. He can't help but compare the stark contrast between his mother's love and his father's hostility, fueling a mix of emotions within him. The dominance and aggression of his father's actions only serve to heighten his appreciation for his mother's enduring tenderness and thoughtfulness, even in the realm of the afterlife.

“I needed to be by your side, even though I know I will be in trouble.” Y/N’s voice shakes him out of his stupor. She’s biting on her lower lip, her long hair hiding half her face. “Your father will surely order me farther away.”

“Let him try,” Steve challenges with determination, causing Y/N to wear a wearied expression of disbelief. With tenderness, he adds, "I'd like to witness anyone daring to separate the future Queen of Brooklyn from my embrace."

King Joseph seethes with a fiery intensity, teetering on the edge of explosion. Anger courses through his veins, overwhelming his senses in the wake of what he has just witnessed. With resolute determination, he guides his son towards the Council chamber, his mind already brimming with scathing words, poised to unleash his fury upon him.

“Of all of the women in this court and beyond, you have decided to entertain a chambermaid for the better half of the evening!”

“She is not a mere chambermaid, father. You know well who Y/N is!”

"A mere distraction," the King counters vehemently, his fist slamming down on the dark oak table with a resounding thud. "A disgrace," he continues, his voice filled with simmering indignation.

“A queen.”

"Never! Over my dead body, you imbecile!" King Joseph retorts, his voice laced with venomous defiance, unwilling to yield to his son's audacious declaration.

"So be it then, father!" Steve roars with fiery determination. "All you have ever cared for is for Brooklyn to be the nexus of the Grand American Dynasty, no matter the cost, no matter the price! Your vision is so narrow that you fail to see the alternative paths, the possibilities beyond the ones you have carved for yourself."

“The avenues you traverse in your thoughts are nothing but insignificant alleyways leading to nowhere, boy!”

"They are mine. All of them belong to me alone," Steve asserts with unwavering conviction. "They are the boulevards of my childhood and the thoroughfares of my future. They are paths carved by a woman who has treated me far better than my own father ever has!"

“She is insignificant!”

"How dare you! You have waged wars and battles, leaving me to mend the relationships you have severed. You have sowed fear and wielded despair in your son and your kingdom, and I will not allow you to condemn me or my future any longer."

“Steven!”

“No! You will listen, and I will lend my ears no longer. I am the only heir to the throne. You and the Council be damned if you do not willingly allow me to marry the woman who will rule Brooklyn with far more grace and vigor than you ever had. Mark my words, I will take matters into my own hands and fight for love and justice, even if it means defying the entire kingdom.”

“You would never," King Joseph says, his voice seething with anger and contempt, his eyes blazing with fiery defiance.

Steve smirk. It’s dark and vindictive, sending shivers down the spine of his father. “Watch me,” he whispers, his voice laced with a chilling determination.

He marches out of the chamber and onto the grand ballroom. His heart thumps in his chest, louder than the mellifluous sounds of the musician's instruments.

He moves through the crowd like a lion king walking through his kingdom. His gaze locks on Y/N, standing beside Bucky and Sam. As their eyes meet, a mixture of surprise and anticipation reflects in the depths of her gaze, mirroring the emotions pulsating within him.

As the world around them fades into a blur, leaving only the two of them standing in the spotlight, Steve's years of etiquette training and courtship knowledge seem insignificant. Despite his mastery of courting rituals and the art of conversation, Y/N possesses the uncanny ability to shatter his carefully crafted facade. With a mere glance, she erases the learned scripts from his mind, leaving it a blank canvas, ready to be painted by her presence alone.

He doesn’t count his steps though he suspects they’re brisk. He reaches out and tugs at her hand, drawing her closer. Steve lets go of his thoughts and his constraints, deciding to focus on her. His lips are fierce as they suddenly clash with hers, and the sound of their lips moving together seems to echo louder than the

The kiss becomes a clarion call, a declaration of war and surrender in a single act. It symbolizes the culmination of suppressed emotions and unspoken promises, a deluge of feelings too long restrained. It ignites a storm of passionate responses, an uproar of joy and relief that reverberates through the room.

In that fleeting moment, it embodies Y/N's tenderness and longing, intertwining with Steve's defiance and resolve. The kiss bridges the fractures of their past and ushers in the promise of a shared future.

Like an art piece, it's crafted with meticulous detail and profound meaning. Its evocative power lingers in the air, leaving a trace of its essence. The kiss is not just a mere gesture. It's an effervescent expression of their love, unique and incomparable.

At this moment, Steve and Y/N claim their own narrative, painting their own masterpiece of connection and desire. It's an art piece that captivates all who witness it, leaving an indelible mark on their hearts and memories.

“I need a queen,” Steve breathes in haste. I need you, he’s trying to say. I breathe you.

And Y/N laughs, delicately and boldly. She presses her palms against his cheeks, the warmth of her touch fanning the flames of Steve’s love.

“Let me be everything you need and more.”

Steve Rogers has my whole heart, and I was unbelievably happy when Val overflooded my inbox with requests!! Still got one Mob!Steve and Professor!Steve one shots to write, which I'm super excited to start with. Btw, how the hell does Val know all my favorite tropes?

Anyhow, I was so excited, so I powered through this one. The others? Might take anywhere between 3 to 5 business months to release them. But Sab will try her best to release them sooner.

Don’t forget to send in your Marvel/Harry Potter requests!

Can’t wait to share more!!

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america x female reader #marvel fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #marvel mcu #avengers #the avengers #king!steve rogers x reader #steve rogers royal au #king!steve rogers

285 notes · View notes

world-of-wales · 1 year

Text

CONFIRMED ATTENDEES TO THE CORONATION OF

♚♛ KING CHARLES III & QUEEN CAMILLA ♛♚

───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────────────

♔ ┆ Foreign Royalty

King Felipe & Queen Letizia 🇪🇸

King Philippe & Queen Mathilde and Princess Elisabeth, The Duchess of Brabant 🇧🇪

King Jigme Khesar & Queen Jetsun Pema 🇧🇹

Yang di-Pertuan Agong Abdullah & Raja Permaisuri Agong Tunku 🇲🇾

Kīngi Tūheitia & Makau Ariki Te Atawhai of the Māori

Grand Duke Henri & Grand Duchess Maria Teresa 🇱🇺

King Carl Gustaf and Crown Princess Victoria 🇸🇪

King Willem-Alexander & Queen Maxima, Princess Beatrix and Crown Princess Catharina-Amalia, The Princess of Orange 🇳🇱

Crown Prince Haakon & Crown Princess Mette-Marit 🇳🇴

Crown Prince Fumihito & Crown Princess Kiko 🇯🇵

Crown Prince Frederick & Crown Princess Mary 🇩🇰

Prince Albert & Princess Charlene 🇲🇨

King Vajiralongkorn & Queen Suthida 🇹🇭

King Abdullah II & Queen Rania 🇯🇴

King Tupou & Queen Nanasipau’u 🇹🇴

Hereditary Prince Alois & Hereditary Princess Sophie 🇱🇮

King Mswati III & Queen Sibonelo LaMbikiza 🇸🇿

Crown Prince Sheikh Mishal Al Ahmad Al-Jaber Al-Sabah 🇰🇼

Crown Prince Theyazin bin Haitham Al Said 🇴🇲

Emir Tamim bin Hamad Al Thani 🇶🇦

Princess Lalla Meryem 🇲🇦

Prince Turki bin Mohammed bin Fahd Minister of State 🇸🇦

Sheikh Mansour bin Zayed 🇦🇪

King Letsie III & Queen Masenate 🇱🇸

Sultan Hassanal Bolkiah 🇧🇳

King Hamad bin Isa Al Khalifa 🇧🇭

Asantehene Otumfuo Osei Tutu II & Lady Julia of the Ashanti

♔ ┆ Deposed Royalty & Distant Family Relations

Queen Anne-Marie, Crown Prince Pavlos & Crown Princess Mary Chantal 🇬🇷

Margrave Bernhard & Margravine Stephanie of Baden

Landgrave Donatus of Hesse

Prince Philipp & Princess Saskia of Hohenlohe - Langenburg

Margareta (Custodian of the Crown) and Prince Radu 🇷🇴

Crown Prince Alexander & Crown Princess Katherine 🇷🇸

Tsar Simeon & Tsaritsa Margarita 🇧🇬

Annoying Ginger from Montecito

♔ ┆ Governor-Generals of Commonwealth Realms

Governor-General David Hurley & Linda Hurley 🇦🇺

Governor-General Sir Rodney Williams & Lady Williams 🇦🇬

Governor-General Sir Cornelius A. Smith & Lady Smith 🇧🇸

Governor-General Dame Cindy Kiro & Richard Davies 🇳🇿

Governor-General Mary Simon & Whit Fraser 🇨🇦

Governor-General Sir Patrick Allen & Lady Allen 🇯🇲

Governor-General Dame Froyla Tzalam 🇧🇿

Governor-General Dame Cécile La Grenade 🇬🇩

King's Representative Sir Tom Marsters & Lady Tuaine Marsters 🇨🇰

Governor-General Sir David Vunagi & Lady Vunagi 🇸🇧

Governor-General Sir Bob Dadae 🇵🇬

Governor-General Dame Marcella Liburd 🇰🇳

Deputy Governor-General Hyleta Liburd of Nevis

Acting Governor-General Errol Charles 🇱🇨

Governor-General Dame Susan Dougan 🇻🇨

Governor-General Sir Tofiga Vaevalu Falani 🇹🇻

♔ ┆ Heads of Governments of Commonwealth Realms

Prime Minister Anthony Albanese & Jodie Haydon 🇦🇺

Prime Minister Justin Trudeau & Sophie Grégoire Trudeau 🇨🇦

Prime Minister Philip Davis 🇧🇸

Prime Minister Dickon Mitchell 🇬🇩

Prime Minister Chris Hipkins 🇳🇿

Prime Minister Terrance Drew 🇰🇳

Prime Minister Ralph Gonsalves 🇻🇨

♔ ┆ Governmental Representatives of Commonwealth Realms

Margaret Beazley, Governor of New South Wales 🇦🇺

Linda Dessau, Governor of Victoria 🇦🇺

Jeannette Young, Governor of Queensland 🇦🇺

Chris Dawson, Governor of Western Australia 🇦🇺

Frances Adamson, Governor of South Australia 🇦🇺

Barbara Baker, Governor of Tasmania 🇦🇺

Former Prime Minister Hubert Ingraham 🇧🇸

Former Prime Minister Perry Christie 🇧🇸

Michael Pintard, Leader of the Opposition 🇧🇸

Janice Charette, Clerk to the Privy Council of Canada and Secretary to the Cabinet 🇨🇦

High Commissioner Kisha Abba Grant 🇬🇩

High Commissioner Phil Goff 🇳🇿

Christopher Luxon, Leader of the Opposition 🇳🇿

Koni Iguan, Deputy Speaker of the National Parliament 🇵🇬

Justin Tkatchenko, Minister for Foreign Affairs 🇵🇬

Rainbo Paita, Minister for Finance and National Planning 🇵🇬

Taies Sansan, Secretary for the Department of Personnel Management 🇵🇬

Gisuwat Siniwin, former Member of the National Parliament 🇵🇬

Premier Mark Brantley of Nevis

High Commissioner Moses Kouni Mose 🇸🇧

Jeremiah Manele, Minister of Foreign Affairs and External Trade 🇸🇧

♔ ┆ Foreign Heads of States + Governments

President Andrzej Duda & First Lady Agata Kornhauser-Duda 🇵🇱

President Petr Pavel and First Lady Eva Pavlová 🇨🇿

President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. and First Lady Louise Araneta-Marcos 🇵🇭

President Katalin Novák & First Gentleman István Attila Veres 🇭🇺

President Guðni Th. Jóhannesson and First Lady Eliza Reid 🇮🇸

President Michael D. Higgins & First Lady Sabina Higgins and Leo Varadkar, Taoiseach 🇮🇪

President Herzog & First Lady Michal Herzog 🇮🇱

President Egils Levits & First Lady Andra Levite 🇱🇻

President Ali Bongo Ondimba & First Lady Sylvia Bongo Ondimba 🇬🇦

President Mario Abdo Benítez & First Lady Silvana López Moreira 🇵🇾

O le Ao o le Malo Tuimalealiʻifano Vaʻaletoʻa Sualauvi II & Masiofo Faʻamausili Leinafo 🇼🇸

President Paul Kagame & First Lady Jeannette Kagame 🇷🇼

President Wavel Ramkalawan, & First Lady Linda Ramkalawan 🇸🇨

President George Vella & First Lady Miriam Vella 🇲🇹

President Julius Maada Bio & First Lady Fatima Bio 🇸🇱

Hakainde Hichilema & First Lady Mutinta Hichilema 🇿🇲

President Sergio Mattarella 🇮🇹

President Ranil Wickremesinghe 🇱🇰

President Halimah Yacob 🇸🇬

President Faure Gnassingbé 🇹🇬

President Muhammadu Buhari 🇳🇬

President Filipe Nyusi 🇲🇿

President Frank-Walter Steinmeier 🇩🇪

President Vahagn Khachaturyan 🇦🇱

President Alar Karis 🇪🇪

President Sauli Niinistö 🇫🇮

President Emmanuel Macron 🇫🇷

President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva 🇧🇷

President Alexander Van der Bellen 🇦🇹

President Vahagn Khachaturyan 🇦🇲

President Salome Zourabichvili 🇬🇪

President Katerina Sakellaropoulou 🇬🇷

President Abdul Latif Rashid 🇮🇶

President Vjosa Osmani 🇽🇰

President George Weah 🇱🇷

President Gitanas Nausėda 🇱🇹

President Mohamed Ould Ghazouani 🇲🇷

President Maia Sandu 🇲🇩

President Stevo Pendarovski 🇲🇰

President Lazarus McCarthy Chakwera 🇲🇼

President Ibrahim Mohamed Solih 🇲🇻

President William Ruto 🇰🇪

President Irfaan Ali 🇬🇾

President Wiliame Katonivere 🇫🇯

President Paul Biya 🇨🇲

President Nikos Christodoulides 🇨🇾

President Mohamed Bazoum 🇳🇪

President Marcelo Rebelo de Sousa 🇵🇹

President Klaus Iohannis 🇷🇴

President Macky Sall 🇸🇳

President Zuzana Čaputová 🇸🇰

President Nataša Pirc Musar 🇸🇮

President Võ Văn Thưởng 🇻🇳

Emmerson Mnangagwa 🇿🇼

Chairwoman of the Council of Ministers Borjana Krišto 🇧🇦

Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina 🇧🇩

Prime Minister Han Duck-soo 🇰🇷

Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif 🇵🇰

President Alain Berset of the Swiss Confederation & Muriel Zeender 🇨🇭

Prime Minister Galab Donev 🇧🇬

♔ ┆ Governmental Representatives

First Lady Jill Biden & Finnegan Biden and John Kerry, Special Presidential Envoy for Climate 🇺🇸

First Lady Olena Zelenska 🇺🇦

First Lady Verónica Alcocer 🇨🇴

Vice President Jagdeep Dhankar 🇮🇳

Vice President Fuat Oktay 🇹🇷

Vice President Tiémoko Meyliet Koné 🇨🇮

Vice President Han Zeng 🇨🇳

Vice President Mohammed B.S Jallow 🇬🇲

Sahiba Gafarova, Speaker of the National Assembly 🇦🇿

Christophe Mboso N'Kodia Pwanga, President of the National Assembly 🇨🇩

Arnoldo André, Minister of Foreign Affairs 🇨🇷

Naledi Pandor, Minister of International Relations and Cooperation 🇿🇦

Nabil Ammar, Minister of Foreign Affairs 🇹🇳

Narayan Prakash Saud, Minister of Foreign Affairs 🇳🇵

Gustavo Manrique, Foreign Minister 🇪🇨

Ahmed Attaf, Foreign Minister 🇩🇿

Frederick Shava, Foreign Minister & Mthuli Ncube, Finance Minister 🇿🇼

Cardinal Pietro Parolin, Cardinal Secretary of State 🇻🇦

Ambassador José Alberto Briz Gutiérrez 🇬🇹

♔ ┆ Representatives from International Organizations

Amina Jane Mohammed, Deputy Secretary General 🇺🇳

Ursula von der Leyen, President of EU Commission 🇪🇺

Charles Michel, EU Council President 🇪🇺

Roberta Metsola, President of the European Parliament 🇪🇺

#coronation 2023 guest list #coronation 23 #coronation guests #coronation guest list #british royals #british royalty #king charles #king charles iii #charles iii #queen camilla #queen consort camilla

238 notes · View notes

isabelleneville · 1 year

Photo

♛ STARZ THE ROYALTY COLLECTION - THE CORONATION OF A QUEEN ♛

Elizabeth Woodville | Crowned 26th of May 1465 as shown in The White Queen

Anne Neville | Crowned 6th of July 1483 in a joint coronation with her husband Richard III as shown in The White Queen

Elizabeth of York | Crowned 25th of November 1487 as shown in The White Princess

Katherine of Aragon | Crowned 24th of June 1509 in a joint coronation with her husband Henry VIII as shown in The Spanish Princess

#the white queen #the white princess #the spanish princess #twqedit #twpedit #thespanishprincessedit #perioddramaedit #rebecca ferguson #faye marsay #jodie comer #charlotte hope #elizabeth woodville #anne neville #elizabeth of york #Katherine of Aragon #my edits #stills

154 notes · View notes

warwickroyals · 5 days

Text

Sunderland's Royal Jewel Vault (22/∞) ♛

↬ Gordon Aquamarine Kokoshnik Tiara

Many tiaras within the royal vault are instantly recognizable, being worn by noted members of the family for most of their adult lives. Some, however, are more mysterious and have yet to be worn in public at all. The Gordon Aquamarine Kokoshnik is one of the more evasive tiaras in the vault, with its existence only being hinted at for the better part of seventy years. The tiara didn't enter royal hands through inheritance but through a substantial acquisition of jewellery. In 1962, King James II and Queen Katherine purchased an unknown amount of high jewels from their friend, Dame Martha Gordon. One of the acquired tiaras, the Gordon Lattice Tiara, became a favourite of the Queen, but a second aquamarine tiara was never worn in public. The reason for this is unknown, it's possible the tiara wasn't to the Queen's taste or that she did wear the tiara in private. Whatever the reason, evidence of the tiara was fickle until the early 21st century. However, there is evidence of the tiara's previous owner wearing the jewel. The well-travelled Mrs. Gordon was a frequent guest in royal circles and she was noted to be wearing a "halo-shaped tiara of aquamarines and diamonds" to the 1954 wedding of the Duke and Duchess of Glencairin. In 1939, Martha commissioned the tiara from Boucheron after she was awe-struck by a similar piece owned by Crown Princess Margareta of Sweden. The tiara was recreated down to the enormous aquamarines and delicate lattice patterning. In early 2004, the tiara had a rare opportunity to emerge from the vault when Courtney Borroughs-Parker, the fiancée of King Louis V's second son Prince Phillip, chose it as her preferred bridal diadem. Media reports around the time claimed that Courtney had "fallen in love" with a tiara "with huge aquamarines that complimented her blue eyes perfectly". Many assumed the aquamarine tiara was the more popular Georgiyevna Tiara, but it was later revealed to be a "mystery tiara" that had never been seen before. However, in the weeks that followed, it was reported that Courtney had run into a roadblock in the form of Queen Irene's senior dresser, Diana Keating. Mrs. Keating, known as the gatekeeper of the royal family's private jewels, refused to clear the tiara for Courtney's use. Why Keating made this choice is unknown, but the ensuing drama cultivated in Queen Irene scolding her future daughter-in-law for "causing a scene". Ultimately, King Louis V purchased a tiara new tiara for Courtney. This tiara, known as the Woodbine Diamond Tiara, was the only tiara Courtney wore publicly during her marriage. The aquamarine kokoshnik once again returned to the vault, and hasn't been whispered of since. When or if the tiara will finally get its day in the sun remains a mystery, hopefully, we won't have to wait another 70 years.

Courtney, Duchess of Woodbine, poses in the tiara in an informal photograph that was later sent to her fiancé via email

#warwick.jewels #✨#ts4 #ts4 story #ts4 royal #ts4 storytelling #ts4 edit #ts4 royal legacy #ts4 legacy #ts4 royalty #ts4 monarchy #ts4 screenshots

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asoiaf-fancasts · 2 months

Text

Rhaenyra Targaryen - Fancasts

Age: 07 - 33

08 [Mother’s Death]

14 [Tourney]

17 [Marriage to Laenor]

23 [Marriage to Daemon]

32 - 33 [Civil War]

Appearance: She is beautiful with the Valyrian look and small lips. After her first 3 children she retained the weight from their pregnancies having a thick waist. She is dressed richly and is often wearing rings.

Character: Elizabeth Murray [Younger]

Actress: Cara Jenkins

Movie: Belle [2013]

[She was 8/9 during filming so good for Rhaenyra when her mother dies and she is declared heir to when her father marries Alicent. She is pretty with pale skin, blonde hair and small lips.She wears mid 18th century clothes ish.]

Character: Katherine Woodville

Actress: Elsa Houben

Show: The White Queen [2013]

[Unknown age, looks to be around 8 - 10 years old so good for when Rhaenyra is declared heir till her first half brother is born. She is pretty with fair skin, blonde hair and a small mouth. She unfortunately is only shown in one scene clearly. She wears a 15th century ish dress.]

Character: Violetta Giurgiu

Actress: Anamaria Vartolomei

Movie: My Little Princess [2011]

[She was 11 during the filming of this movie so good for a year before he sweet half sister was born. She is pretty with blonde hair, pale skin and small lips. She wears modern clothes that are still good for close ups.]

Character: White Queen [Younger]

Actress: Amelia Crouch

Movie: Alice Through the Looking Glass [2016]

[She was between the ages of 10 - 12 during the filming of this movie. So, good for when her half brother and sister were born. She has light blonde hair, has small lips and is pretty. She wears fantasy clothes.]

Character: Lucrecia Borgia

Actress: María Valverde

Movie: Los Borgia [2006]

[She was 18 - 19 during this movie so the right age for Rhaenyra when she’s married to Laenor. She’s pretty and has small lips and blonde hair that is a bit too golden. She unfortunately has brown eyes and is not “thick of waist”. She wears 15th century Italian ish clothes.]

Actress: Catherine Howard

Actress: Tamzin Merchant

Show: The Tudors [2007] [Season 3 & 4]

[She was 22 - 23 during this show so good for her during the start of her marriage to Daemon although she does have a love interest that more suits Harwin and is playing a character of an age with Rhaenyra when she was with Harwin. She’s pretty. She has lighter blonde but golden hair and small lips. Unfortunately she is quite skinny and not thick of waist. She wears Tudor ish clothes.]

Character: Queen Jadwiga of Poland

Actress: Dagmara Bryzek

Show: The Crown of the Kings [2018]

[She’s 22 - 25 during this show so a good age for Rhaenyra during her marriage to Daemon. Her hair is brown and obviously not correct for Rhaenyra but with some editing I do think this fancast could be really good. She has pale skin, a rounder face and small ish lips. She isn’t plus sized but she is “thick of waist” compared to the other actresses. She wears 14th century polish clothes.]

Character(s): Lucrecia Borgia & Constance Chatterly

Actress: Holliday Grainger

Show: The Borgias [2011]

Movie: Lady Chatterley’s Lover [2015]

[She was 22 - 25 during the show and was 26 - 27 in the movie so good for during her marriage to Daemon. She is blonde although a bit more golden than I imagined her hair and has relatively smaller lips. She has a rounder face in the movie but is unfortunately skinny in both. She wears 15th century Italian clothes in the show and in the movie she wears late 1920’s clothing.]

Character: Catherine the Great

Actress: Yuliya Snigir

Show: Catherine the Great [2015]

[Suggested by: ???]

[She was 31/32 during this movie to the right age for her at the start of the war. She wears a silver wig, has a round ish face and small lips but unfortunately isn’t really “thick of waist”. She wears 18th century clothes.]

#please suggest other fancasts #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen fancasts #asoiaf fancast #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #fancast resource #game of thrones

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royal-hair · 1 year

Photo

Crown Princess Katherine of Serbia at former King Constantine's funeral at the Metropolitan Cathedral in Athens, Greece - 16.01.23

#crown princess katherine #serbian royal family #TinoFuneral

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simshousewindsor · 3 months

Text

CORONATION PART 2: THE PROCESSION

Cameron Dorly [SNN]: "At 10:00 AM the gates of Buckingsim Palace opened signaling the monarch is ready to depart. The balusters will be lowered just before the royal guard approaches. The Procession is about to begin and will follow a direct route to the Abbey."

Shon Gableton [SNN]: "Live at Westsimster Abbey, Hallie Howell is awaiting the arrival of the Royal family."

Cameron Dorly [SNN]: "Hallie, how is it?"

Hallie Howell [SNN]: Hi, Shon and Cameron! It's glorious here! There is such a feeling of newness in the air. It's palpable.

Cameron Dorly [SNN]: "We can feel it!"

Shon Gableton [SNN]: "The balusters were just lowered at the palace, and the Queen's procession is in view. Let's head back there."

- - - - - ROYAL PROCESSION - - - - -

Cameron Dorly [SNN]: Royal Guards lead the King's State Coach, carrying Queen Katherine I and Rainier, Prince consort. The coach is being pulled by 4 white Stallions.

Shon Gableton [SNN]: The King's State Coach was first used at the coronation of King Albert I in 1784 and has since been used to transport every monarch to their coronation. The coach has taken the longer route from Buckingsim Palace, down The Mall, since the coronation of King Edward I in 1888.

Cameron Dorly [SNN]: Rounding The Lara-Leigh Memorial, the Queen and Prince consort wave to the adoring crowd.

Shon Gableton [SNN]: This is our first glimpse of Her Majesty wearing the State Diamond Diadem, made in 1820 for King Albert I. Since King Albert I, the Diadem has only been worn by Windenburg queens, whether they reigned or were consorts. It was first worn by Queen Isabella, consort to Albert I, in 1830 after the Kings death.

Cameron Dorly [SNN]: Just behind The Queen's coach, in The Rolls Royce State Limousine, is The Queen Mother, The Prince of Brindleton Bay, and The Princess Grace. The little prince was expected to be amongst Royal Pages but insiders say The Queen preferred Maids of Honor.

Shon Gableton [SNN]: 136 years later, history is made as Queen Katherine I travels down The Mall preparing to be crowned this nations first Queen!

Cameron Dorly [SNN]: Let's head to Westsimster Abbey as the royal family arrives. Hallie?

Hallie Howell [SNN]: Yes, Cameron. The Royal Family has just arrived! The crowd erupted in a loud roar upon seeing four black Rolls Royce's, bearing the royal flag, approaching carrying senior members of the royal family.

Shon Gableton [SNN]: Guards stood at attention while the Queen and Prince consort's procession passed.

Cameron Dorly [SNN]: The tomb of the unknown soldier sits underneath Memorial Arch, and is the central location for Remembrance Day observations to honor armed forces members who have died in the line of duty.

Hallie Howell [SNN]: Back at the Abbey, the Duke and Duchess of Kent are the first to arrive, showing their roles as the most senior members of the royal family. Their Royal Highnesses also arrive in formal robes. The Duke wearing his Order of the Garter robe while the Duchess wears the Royal Edwardian Order mantle, reflecting her status as a Dame Grand Cross of the Royal Edwardian Order.

Shon Gableton [SNN]: "King George I named her a Dame Grand Cross of the Royal Edwardian Order, the highest possible rank, in 2007."

Hallie Howell [SNN]: He did, indeed!

Hallie Howell [SNN]: The Earl and Countess of St Peters followed. Prince Louis, heir to the dukedom of Kent, donned not only his Queen Katherine I Coronation medal but his Royal Edwardian Order, which were bestowed upon His Royal Highness last month. The Countess, wearing a green @sentate dress, wore the Royal Family Order of George I.

Hallie Howell [SNN]: Third to arrive is the younger sister of Queen Katherine, Princess Lara, Countess of Boykins and her husband Anthony, Earl of Boykins. The Princess is wearing a traditional coronation gown and tiara, along with the Windsor sash and the Royal Family Order of George I.

Hallie Howell [SNN]: The Duke and Duchess of Hastings arrive also in formal robes; equal to that of The Duke and Duchess of Kent. The Duke was invested as a Knight of the Garter in 2020 while the Duchess was invested as a Dame Grand Cross of the Royal Edwardian Order in 2022.

Cameron Dorly [SNN]: "You can see the slight difference in their robes."

Hallie Howell [SNN]: Yes, the robes of the Edwardian Order features a red stripe along the border. In a statement just released from the palace:

"At the request of the Queen and Prince consort, Dukes and Duchesses both are wearing formal robes and mantels for the [historic] occasion."

Cameron Dorly [SNN]: So, now we know attires have been well coordinated for the senior royals. Just like the royal guardsmen in the Queen's gorgeous procession, having just passed Memorial Arch.

Shon Gableton [SNN]: Yes! Her Majesty's procession is making its way down Parliament Square Street.

Shon Gableton [SNN]: Crowds cheer as Queen Katherine and Prince Rainier pass.

Shon Gableton [SNN]: At the west door of the Abbey, Officers of the Order of Knighthood descend from upstairs to begin the Coronation Procession. It will be a procession composed of elements of both the Church and State, the Spiritual and Temporal life of our land.

Shon Gableton [SNN]: Representatives of The Knights of the most noble Order of the Garter make their way down the naive first, in their blue robes. They are followed by representatives of the most honorable Order of the Protea, in robes of green.

Cameron Dorly [SNN]: The rich blue carpet spreads down the aisle of the sanctuary, which hides the black and white checkered floor of the choir of the Abbey. The beautiful contrast of colors inside the abbey is on full display.

Cameron Dorly [SNN]: Once again the color changes and there comes the most ancient Order of the Iwé, in scarlet robes.

Cameron Dorly [SNN]: After a brief gap, the Prime Minister of Brindleton Bay along with the Prime Minister of Sulani follow. Behind them, the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, the Rt. Hon. Sir Linwood Keller, Knight of the Garter.

Shon Gableton [SNN]: Immediately behind the Prime Minister is the Dean of Westsimster. He leads the next procession through the screen under the orchestra and the organ and out into the brilliance of the choir. We see them now, high above the alter, as the Cross of Westsimster is born by the Rev. Hilliard.

Shon Gableton [SNN]: Following the dean are Representatives from the churches of Windenburg and Brindleton Bay, showing the processions transition from State to Church.

Shon Gableton [SNN]: The Church of Winenburg representatives include the Lord Bishops who end the first part of the coronation procession.

Cameron Dorly [SNN]: After a brief pause, we see a glimpse of the Heralds in their full splendor. Four Windenburg heralds followed by one Brindleton Bay herald stand as trumpets play announcing The Queen.

Shon Gableton [SNN]: With the sound of the trumpets anthem, The Queen and Prince consort's arrival at the Abbey has been announced.

Previous | Beginning | Next - continue Heir Ascent (story)

Previous | Beginning | Next - continue Second Place Countess (story)

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bookish-rival · 8 months

Text

Kiss under the gevran Mistletoe

Art by the amazing @gessueter and commissioned by the lovely @StardustSteph(Twitter) aka @leiaamidala

A short fanfic of Wren x Alarik from the books Twin Crowns, Cursed Crowns and Burning Crowns by Catherine Doyle & Katherine Webber

Pairing/Ship: Queen Wren Greenrock, King Alarik Felsing

Trope: Enemies to Lovers, Rivals To Lovers, Fluff, Angst

Warning: Mention of characters death, cursing

Summary:

Queen Wren needed some fresh air during festivities held at Grinstad Palace, hosted by Royal Family of Gevra. While taking a stroll through the quiet hallways together, Wren and Alarik noticed a Mistletoe hanging above them. Wren is given a choice. To either kiss her mortal enemy (once again) or walk away, ignoring her growing feelings for him.

WARNING! This story takes place after the second book, so HUGE SPOILER ALERT FOR BOTH BOOKS!

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Hi!

This is my first EVER story I’ve written and posted here. The Twin Crowns series has captured my heart for some time now, and only after reading the second one did I start imagining my own stories for these characters.

The books are absolutely amazing! I cannot wait for the third and final book of this trilogy.

I therefore tried to come up with my own little scenario.

A few things in advance: This is my first fanfic I wrote and English is only my second language, so there might be a lot of mistake in there. I also used exact parts from the books to fill in the flashbacks, so if some parts sound familiar than that’s because it’s 100% copied from the books hahaha.

I also didn’t know how to set the scene and mood correctly, so it starts of with a fast summary of the books (so big spoilers) as it explains why Wren happened to be in Gevra once again. There’s a big jump into the story as the two were already walking together. I didn’t know how to start off, so if it feels a bit rushed I’m sorry.

Please show more support to the authors of this series and I hope that you will enjoy this little oneshot.

Have fun!

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The Christmas season is coming to a close and every year the royal family of Gevra holds a huge feast at Grinstad Palace to celebrate.

This year however, the Twin Queens of Eana, Rose Valhart and Wren Greenrock, as well as their best friend and strongest ally King Shen Lo of the Sunkissed Kingdom, have been invited as honorary guests by King Alarik Felsing of Gevra himself.

The cold hearted King of Beasts invited them after a long exchange of letters with the Queens.

Their last meeting included the second death of the King’s younger sibling, Prince Ansel.

After he died in Eana, Wren was forced to bring him back with forbidden blood magic which caused him to return as a living corpse more than a real resurrected human being.

After multiple attempts of warning King Alarik and his sister, Princess Anika Felsing, about the dangerous outcome, they later agreed on letting their brother rest in peace.

The Felsing siblings asked Wren to perform her healing magic to send Prince Ansel’s body in a peaceful slumber, but it didn’t work when she tried.

Later, her sister Queen Rose took on the task and gave the Prince the peace he wanted, and his family the peace they needed.

The exchange of letters with the Gevran King also involved a specific evil witch, that holds a dangerous threat to both their kingdoms. The festivities are a perfect chance to talk about forming an alliance to fight this threat together.

That’s why, even though the twin Queens feel a chill running down their spines just thinking about traveling to Gevra, they still accepted the invitation. Hoping to officially bury the hatchet with the icy realm and additionally, build an alliance between Gevra and Eana, as a gift to their people.

*End of Summary*

The King of Gevra, and the Queen of Eana left the noisy ballroom behind, as they walked through the hallways of Grinstad Palace.

Alarik suddenly stopped under a door arch, as he noticed something on the ceiling. He looked up amused.

“What’s so funny?” Wren said as she looked up suspiciously, trying to see what got the frost-hearted King’s attention.

At first she didn’t realize what she saw, but then she remembered the Gevran tradition, Princess Anika told her about. The so called ”Mistletoe”, saying two souls whom stand beneath one, will have to peck their lips or be cursed for life.

Wren mumbled swear words while nervously looking around if anyone can see them, hoping, even a tiny bit, that their privacy will be interrupted and her complicated flame of desire for the ice cold king wouldn’t develop and confuse her any further. Dammit. That’s exactly the reason, why she was avoiding private moments with him.

Suddenly, her head got clouded in the memory of the first and last kiss they shared.

The time they made out in the middle of her self made blizzard, outside of Grinstad Palace.

She remembers the moment Alarik smiled into the kiss, not being afraid of the witch in his arms or the blizzard at his back. Both trying to find release from their own grief, and finding it, in each others embrace.

She shock her head, trying to get rid of those memories before they overtake her actions.

Only after gazing back at the King’s face did she realize that she must’ve looked absolutely pathetic, looking around for people, turning all shades of red trying to distract from the mistletoe hovering above them.

“I am not kissing yo-“

“Too bad, it’s tradition.” King Alarik stepped foward, cutting her off. She immediately looked away trying to hide her red face.

Wren couldn’t take it, she was looking like a fool in this moment. Trying to get the upper hand in this, she took a stride towards him, facing him directly.

“Where’s your mother? I’d rather kiss her.”

A chuckle escaped his throat. “That’s very low. Even for-“

“A witch?” Wren crossed her arms.

“-you.” Alarik finished.

“Same thing.”

Another low chuckle. “You may be a witch, having your own kind of spells…”

Alarik glided even closer, making Wren tilt her head to look in his shining blue eyes.

“But……if you break a Gevran tradition, you’ll end up being cursed for life. Is that what you want?”

“….Are you blackmailing me right now?”

“Perhaps.”

“I feel honored, your Majesty.” Wren said while sarcastically curtsying to him.

“But with all my, none existing, respect for you… I will NOT be kissing you.”

A smirk came across her lips, thinking she finally turned the conservation around.

Alarik hummed in response.

”Oh don’t worry, your Highness…” His sarcasm mirrored her own.

”I never said anything about you having to kiss me.” He said while slowly decreasing the distance of their bodies, causing Wren to retreat backwards until her back hits the wall of the arch.

”W-What?” Wren hated how intimidated her voice sounded. Alarik was so close that she could feel his breath on her face.

”What made you think…” His right hand caressed her silvery strand of hair, until he reached her cheek. He wasn’t touching her cheek, his hand was just levitating beside her face. Wren could only feel a light touch, because her trembling would cause her face to slightly brush against his hand.

Her eyes darted to his left hand that had found itself gently placed on her waist, his thumb soothingly drawing circles over her skin, sending even more shivers up her spine.

”…that You will be the one initiating the kiss.” He whispers, almost afraid that someone will hear them, even though it was obvious that they were completely alone.

Wren’s eyes met his, immediately getting trapped in his gaze.

Once again the memory of their past kiss slipped itself into her mind.

She knew Alarik Felsing can kiss. His quiet ferocity to his passion, the way he held her tightly against him, how he angled her head to claim her mouth and the way she let him back then. The moment his lips seizing hers, the spark being ignited and them being consumed in its fire.

The Gevran King closed the distance further, pulling the Queen out of her thoughts. She slammed her eyes shut, bracing herself for the feeling of his soft lips against hers once again. Deep down feelings of uncertainty and guilt creeped up. But the touch of his lips never came.

She opened her eyes again, trying not to let any signs of disappointment from her gaze betray her feelings to him.

Alarik‘s eyes weren’t closed. They were mainly focused on hers, like he never closed them in the first place, making it seem like he never intended on kissing her at all.

Her confusion grew with every millisecond the King wasn’t moving.

The Gevran King, Alarik Felsing, was a powerful, selfish man. He could get everything he wanted, he could’ve captured her lips right then if he so desired and yet, here they were. Not kissing.

Just staring in each others eyes, as his hands continued to ghostly hold her waist and hair, not daring to capture her with more force. And additionally, Alarik didn’t show any interest of wanting to close the remaining distance. He did not move, and he was not going to move.

The Witch was held loosely in the embrace of the Icy King, free to step away from him and leave any building feelings for the King behind, or capture his lips herself, if she so desired.

Wren couldn’t believe it. Was he messing with her?

Was it all just a game? Finding the perfect time and spot to make her vulnerable and then mess with her? Slowly, but surely, the old feelings of anger and disappointment towards the cold-hearted King of beasts returned. Deep down Wren had a feeling that, sooner or later, Alarik would tease her about the heated kiss they shared in the past. It was obvious that he was gonna be the one who’d bring it up again. He enjoyed it, for some sick reason she doesn’t really wanna know.

But she didn’t enjoy it. She never wanted to kiss him. She hated him. They hated each other.

The blizzard of her confused feelings clouded her mind mind that day, she wasn’t thinking straight. The kiss was a mistake.

Her now furious eyes flickered at his gaze, trying to find some truth in his annoyingly shining blue pupils. Then, a sudden thought overtook her mind. The moment she threw herself at him in the heated moment, appeared before her.

It was snowing in the courtyard as they held each other, both screaming at each other, as Wren’s new magic created a snowstorm around them, pushing them closer, due to her emotions raging inside of her. Snowflakes landed all over their clothes, hair and a single one stopping on Alarik´s bottom lip.

“I hate you!“ Wren hissed. “I hate you more than anyone I’ve ever met!“

“And you think i care?“ Alarik sneered. “I hate you too.“

“Tyrant.“

“Brat.“ He shot back.

“Wretch.“

“Witch.“

“So what?!“ Wren’s gaze fell to that single snowflake on his lip.

Alarik held her face in his hands. Trying to hold her still and stop the blizzard going out of control around them.

“Wren.“ He said with a serious tone. “Stop. It.“

“Make. Me.“ And then, they were kissing.

Wren didn’t know why she licked the snowflake from his bottom lip. Or why he opened his mouth to seize the kiss. But it happened.

She initiated the kiss.

SHIT. She kissed him.

If not for that damn snowflake on his impeccable lips, it wouldn’t have happened. But it did. And now it was gonna happen again.

This time, however, she was thinking straight. She’s able to stop the kiss and the forming of any more complicated and uncertain feelings for the man infront of her. Guilt, grief, anger, frustration, disappointment. Those feelings were just a few snowflakes in the blizzard of suffering roaming inside her, at this time. Wren couldn’t stop the blizzard now, nor ever, she feared. But she is able to keep someone else from getting drawn into her storm.

She had to stop this. To protect herself, and him, from more complications between each other. To protect them both from another mistake.

“Too close…” Wren swallowed as she looked into his eyes.

She was sure that deep inside his gaze, was a spark of hurt and disappointment, before his eyes turned to an understanding look, as he slowly retreated his face from hers. Giving her space. When his hands left her body, she trembled from the lost feeling of his closeness.

This happened before.

She was broken. Too broken to see someone else’s feelings. Too broken to see her own feelings.

To see, to feel, what she really wanted, what she needed.

After failing to heal Prince Ansel a few months ago, she ran away, breaking down in her room. She couldn’t do to. She couldn’t heal the Prince’s soul and give him the peace he desired. Wren couldn’t. No matter how much she wanted to. And she did, want to. She wanted to fix her mistakes. By using forbidden magic, she poisoned her own soul.

She cursed herself. She was broken.

”You are not broken, Wren.”

Alarik’s voice reached her memory. She wasn’t alone with her grief, that day. There was someone else next to her.

It was Alarik. He ran after her that day. He saw her in her weakest moments. In her most pathetic moment. And yet, he had no intention of making fun of her.

“You are not broken.” Alarik said.

“Yes, I am! What the hell do you know?!”

“I know that if you can bring yourself to care about something beyond yourself, you are not broken.”

He raised his hand, curling a strand of her hair around his finger.

When he lifted it, Wren saw that it was bright silver.

“See how much you care, Wren.”

Alarik traced the single black strand in his summer wheat hair, which developed after his fathers death.

“My father once told me that to know grieve is to know love, and you cannot love something if you’re irretrievably broken.”

Back then she was staring at the King, trying to figure out where this version of him had come from, or if perhaps it had been there alll along, hiding beneath his icy facade.

“You once told me that love is a horrible business.” Countered Wren sobbing.

“It is.” said Alarik “But why does that have to change anything?”

Her shoulders sagged under the weight of the truth.

“I can’t fix Ansel, I can’t even fix myself.”

“You don’t need to be fixed. You just need time to heal.”

Wren closed her eyes, feeling his grief as her own.

He stepped back.

A small, wayward part of her wanted to reach for him, at that moment.

To curl herself in his embrace and distract herself from the crack in her heart.

“Go home. Find your healing witch.”

She’ll never forget his soft and fleeting smile. The way a moment of peace in a lifetime of war was given to her, by the man she called her enemy.

He stood back then, and the moment slipped away. He stood back now too.

”But…” Wren’s broken and timid voice reached Alarik in a second, as he once again searched for her eyes. She looked at him, her vision slowly decreasing as tears developed in her eyes.

Wren let the last moment to slip away. But she wasn’t gonna let this one slip away.

She grabbed his belt and pulling him closer, his nose inches away from crashing into her forehead. Her hands were trembling while holding onto the fabric of his shirt, almost turning white due to her fierce grip.

”But…” Her eyes slipped a little further down and land on his lips once again. “…not close enough.”

”Wren...” Alarik whispers, softly, before she pressed her lips against his. Immediately, he melted into her.

Different than their past lip debate, this was a different sensation. Sweet, not hasty or needy. Soft, tender, sincere. Things she never expected from the Gevran King.

This time, the kiss didn’t develop into a fierce battle of emotions, it stayed as a diligent touch, lingering long enough for both of them to adapt their breathing until their chests were heaving in synchronization. Alarik gently moved his right hand though her hair, while the one on her waist continued to massage her tender flesh. It made her lightheaded, forming an empty space in her mind with no room for doubt, grieve, or any other feeling other than….this.

Once again, it was the selfish and fierce King with an ice block as heart, that gave her even the tiniest bit of peace in the battle she was fighting, the one in her country and in herself. This second of vulnerability from both her, a witch queen, and the gevran king, made her feel at peace. Even if it didn’t hold long.

Her feelings were just as confusing and complicated as the man she was embracing. Alarik was a complicated man indeed. Last time she discovered new side of him, it that twisted her stomach. Wren didn’t like how it cast Alarik in a different light, not as a brutal king but as an ordinary young man. She didn’t want to think of him like that. Every time she spares a thought for him, good or bad, it gets intertwined with guilt. It would slowly start to eat her from the inside, until she couldn’t tell if it’s right or wrong. She didn’t want to feel too much, she didn’t want things to get mixed up and grow more complicated. After all, the only person who gets more insecure about their own indefinite feelings, is her.

Due to her thoughts, the young Queen unintentionally squirmed in his hold, which caught Alarik‘s attention. As if he could read her mind, and feel her building doubt, he slipped his tongue through her lips, surprising her so much, that a squeal and moan escaped her at the same time.

She broke away from his hold, trembling more with embarrassment than fury.

“You slipped a tongue in there, you fuckin-“

“Well, you were making weird noises so clearly you enjoyed that.” He joked, showing off his canines. She offendedly pushed him backwards, so her back wasn’t pressed against the cold stone wall anymore.

“This changes nothing. I still hate you.”

“Didn’t seem that way a second ago.”

“I-“

“You kissed me.“

“Shut up.”

“That was-“

“That never happened.“

“Wren, I don’t think this ego lift is ever going to fade.“

She attacked him with a punch. Like he saw it coming, Alarik caught her wrist and pulled her into his chest, holding her hand against his heart.

“Still hate me?”

“Definitely.”

“Just as much?”

“Hmm…maybe…” she reached her other hand infront of his face. Her fingers pressed strongly against each other, not leaving a gap between the tips. ”This…less.”

Alarik smirked, distancing himself once again as he lead her hand towards his face.

”I’ll take what I can get.” He pressed his lips to her hand. Wren silently gasped as the feeling of his lips left her skin.

”I need a drink.”

”What’s the magic word?” Alarik said, jokingly.

“Oh, yeah nevermind. I’ll get it myself.” She scooted past him, hearing a faint chuckle erupt from his mouth.

Together, they made their way back to the festivities, shoulders brushing softly with each step, as the sound of their footsteps, just like their feelings of distrust towards one another, slowly quiet down.

The End.

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