#oooh lore that the golden guard is a title passed down from hand to hand

[spyrkle4]

This week’s Owl House ep made me go from “I’m cancelling Darius” to “ok Darius has some rights” in 22 minutes wow XD

[sachertortes]

OMG PROMPTS YOU ARE AMAZING AND I LOVE YOU. wintershock nobility #1???

@bloomsoftly PROMPTS TIMES YES!! ALL OF THE

Prompt: Nobility themed, #1,  “Your country’s trying to take over/annex my country and you’re making it difficult to hate you because you’re so nice and attractive stop it”

Pairing: Bucky x Darcy

Rating: T

Notes: Nobility/Fantasy AU

“So he’s arrived today at court. At the palace. My palace,” Darcy said, turning to her Advisor.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” he replied.

Darcy frowned. She heard many things of this Prince James Buchanan Barnes and she was mostly certain none of it could be true.

Just the other morning, she’d hid in the corridor to listen to the maids talking about him as they were dusting in the music room.

“I heard he and his brother led their army over the Northern Pass during a blizzard and did not lose one man,” Ingrid said breathlessly.

“I heard he fought off a dozen men with his bare hands and won. And that a wizard gave him an enchanted arm of silver and his brother hair of gold,” Emmaline added in an awed whisper. “…They – they call him the Winter Soldier.” Then in a softer, dreamier voice, “They say he’s as tall and strong as a bear and his eyes are like glaciers.”

“Why, Emmaline! You naughty girl!” teased Ingrid.

“Oh, hush!” giggled Emmaline and Darcy left after that, leaving the girls to the rest of their work.

In the receiving room, Darcy now waited for that fearsome sounding man. He’d probably arrive cloaked in bearskin and covered in dirt or something, the barbarian.

“Well. There’s nothing to be done about that, I suppose.” She stood in a rustle of silk and faille then glided her hands over the front of her gown, over tiny pearls and embroidered roses.

“We’ll just have to throw him in the dungeon,” she continued breezily, flipping her curls over her shoulder. “The dark one. With all the spiders.”

Coulson merely raised one brow and intoned drily, “You know we don’t have dungeons.”

“Then I’ll build one! I’m the Queen! At least for a little while longer. I can definitely build a dungeon where some snivelly little Prince from an invading country can rot forever in the dark! Write that down, Coulson – a dark dungeon!”

“Might I remind you that you signed the Treaty and invited him here? And that the country needs the force of his armies?”

But Darcy was on a roll and elected to ignore Coulson’s logic. She tapped a finger to her chin. “Oooh! The Rack! Let’s bring back the Rack!”

“No, Your Majesty.”

“Not even a little one? Just for his legs or something?”

Coulson let out one long-suffering sigh.

If it was meant to chastise her, Darcy wouldn’t know. She’d heard that sigh for most of her life and was immune to it by now.

It was actually Sigh #21. Not as serious as Sigh #1 (The “You Must Stop That This Instant You Are the Leader of Your Country” Sigh) nor as lighthearted as Sigh #32 (The “You Amuse Me, But I’ll Never Say It” Sigh).

“Please, please, be civil. The welcome dinner is tonight – “

“Seat him between the Baroness Mowbray and the Duke Thornton. Perhaps he’ll flee the country out of sheer boredom.”

“And must I remind you that he has large armies and gold which our country needs at the moment?”

Darcy glared at him, then after realizing that she wasn’t going get any reaction other than his usual placidness, turned to glare at the dour portrait of her great-great-grandmother.

“Yes,” she ground out. “That’s the second time in five minutes you’ve mentioned that. He deserves the spidery dungeons. Who does he think he is?! We’ve always been neutral and we haven’t needed his stupid army or his stinking gold or his dumb – “

“Your Majesty –“

“Stupid face –“

“Your Majesty –“

“Or his so-called magical –“

“DARCY.”

“Yes, Coulson,” Darcy sighed, turning. “Oh!”

Standing there slightly behind Coulson was a man who could not be anyone other than the Prince.

Prince James was tall, but not as tall as a bear. His shoulders were broad under his black coat. His eyes, though – his eyes were a steely grey-blue, seeming even more light due to his dark brown hair that framed his face. He had obviously not had time to groom, but the days of growth on face only served to accent his already angular jawline, the slight dimple in his chin.

And Darcy could only think to herself, oh, if Emmaline only knew.

“If I am to be thrown in the dungeon, might I beg of the Queen that it be one without spiders? I don’t like spiders.”

“I – I am very sorry. You weren’t meant to hear that.”

Prince James’ lips twitched.

“Yes. I figured.”

“Won’t you please sit?” She shakily gestured to one of the two armchairs. The tea and pastries set up by Coulson were already on the table.

In the awkward silence, Darcy chastised her stupid mouth for running away from her yet again, and busied herself by pouring them both tea.

“I want to – I am here because…Thank you,” Prince James said haltingly, so unlike the smooth, pretty words offered to her by her courtiers.

“It seemed that I did not have much choice,” Darcy answered unable to keep the sadness from weighing down her tone. She’d promised herself that she would cede gracefully, but the thought of a foreign power in her land, her home, made her heart ache.

“I know,” he said, in a voice so low and gentle she strained a little to hear him. “I won’t make you regret it just the same. We need all the assistance we can get. Schmidt’s navy is, as we speak, sailing through the Sapphire Sea.”

Darcy gasped. “So soon?” she asked, heart thumping. And so close?

“Yes. And my men have received intelligence that he could be at your western borders within a month.”

Darcy put down her teacup with a shaking hand.

“But I promise you,” the Prince said, “I promise that he won’t be able to set foot here. Schmidt doesn’t fight honorably, but by the gods, we won’t let him take this part of our continent.”

Darcy clasped her hands tightly together in her lap. Prince James placed one large hand over hers. His calloused skin was warm and the weight a comfort.

From across the room, a soft, polite cough sounded. Coulson.

“I’m sorry.” He quickly drew his hand away. “Please forgive me, I’m unused to…well, all of this.”

“I admit I’ve never seen you or your family at our court.”

“The Barnes’ are – were – a smaller cadet branch. Then my father’s cousin died without an heir, and suddenly I’m being pulled out of military school to attend a proper boarding school. Someone hands me a title and so here I am.” He shifted uncomfortably. Then under his breath, “In this damned jacket which my valet tells me is exquisite but is actually extremely uncomfortable.”

Darcy was unable to help her huff of laughter. “It is a very fine jacket,” she reassured him. “And you look very…” she trailed off, any number of words filling her head.

Fantastic. Handsome. Dashing.

“Yes?”

“Nice. Good. You look good in the jacket.”

Prince James had a tease at the corners of his easy smile. “Why thank you, Your Highness.”

“Darcy,” she said, surprising herself a little. “I’ve threatened to imprison you, so I think I should allow you the use of my name.”

“Alright, Darcy. Please call me James.”

“Well, James, I hear much about you. Is any of it true?”

“Much of it is exaggeration.”

“What of your brother? Is he as fierce a fighter as I’ve heard?”

“Well, that part is true. Sometimes I have to pull him out of fights.”

“And other times?”

“And other times I join in,” he admitted with a chuckle and a sideways glance.

“And leading your army through a blizzard?”

“It was…a small blizzard?”

He was downright bashful, and Darcy found herself smiling into her teacup. “Well, wizards don’t exist so that part of your lore cannot be true.”

James laughed. “So we’ve heard the same tales. The only person who gave my brother his golden hair is our mother.”

“And I know you can’t possibly have a silv-“ but then Darcy’s eyes alighted on James’ left hand, covered in a black leather glove. “I – Oh, I mean –“ she stuttered.

James only smiled ruefully and pulled off the glove, revealing his silver hand. Darcy couldn’t help her intake of breath. “The silver arm is real but I’m afraid no wizard was kind enough to gift it to me or enchant it.” He swallowed audibly. “This was from a run-in with Schmidt’s men. You see now what I mean when I say that he won’t fight honorably. They do not believe in such things. All other countries until now have honored the neutrality of yours. He won’t. He doesn’t care. Your land, your people, are a means to an end.”

“What – what end?” Darcy asked even though it was with a sickening feeling that she already knew.

“He wants to conquer the world.” Then he leaned forward and looked at her with those ice blue eyes, solemn and serious again. “This treaty – Please don’t think this won’t mean everything to us - to my country, and to my men. Your promise of safe passage and the resources your lands and your people can provide…It is everything to us.”

The way he was looking at her…Darcy’s heart beat a hard rhythm against her bodice and she felt her face warm.

“Yes. Of course. It’s – it’s why I signed the treaty, James.”

“I am grateful every day for it,” James said softly. “Oh, yes. I’ve brought you something,” he said, almost mischievous. “In thanks for your kindness.” He looked to Coulson, who was standing patiently at the door, and nodded. Coulson then spoke a few words to the guards beyond.

In a moment, two guards were lugging in a smallish chest. It was lacquered onyx and was covered with sterling designs of waves and stars. There were bars at the top and when she glanced at her guards they looked strangely apprehensive.

Still, she knew that nothing inside would be truly dangerous. Not with Coulson and his team double and triple checking everything for her.

James carried in the box the rest of the way and placed it at her feet.

She reached down and unlatched the heavy gold hinge.

She expected gold coins or maybe jewels - necklaces or earrings or tiaras that were usually gifted to Queens. But when she opened the box the little thing that blinked back at her drew the breath from her lungs.

“A – a dragon!” Darcy exclaimed, overjoyed.

The young dragon, sighting Darcy, squirmed out its cage, and flew-hopped up to land itself in her skirts. Satisfied at the softness of her dress, it folded back its leathery wings and stared at her with inquisitive black eyes.

She took in its shimmering grey-white scales and the bright blue tips of its wings with awe.

“Oh, it’s beautiful,” she breathed. Hesitantly, she put out her hand. It sniffed at her for a moment then let her scratch lightly at its neck. “I’ll name it…”

Then the dragon opened its tiny mouth, revealing a series of little white teeth still on their way to being fangs, and attempted a roar. What resulted was a loud, raspy chirp that ended with a small burst of blue, crackling lightening emitted from its mouth, then disappeared just as quickly.

Darcy jolted in response then laughed delightedly. “I’ll name it Taser!”

In response, Taser cooed several times, blinked slowly, and curled up in her lap.

“A strange name, but it seems she likes it.”

“She? How wonderful. I always need more strong women beside me.” Darcy petted Taser along her spine, and Taser arched into her touch. “Thank you, James.”

“You’re very welcome.”

They chatted for a while after that. He told her of allies he’d made on his journey (an archer with impeccable aim, a man who could run so fast he was a mere blur), and she told him of her country – of the endless groves of oranges in the south, of how her cousin Jane’s work in the east made the entire area a center of learning for women and men both.

When word was received that Prince James’ quarters were ready, James took his leave but not before clasping her hand and bowing somewhat stiffly. When he smiled at her, she found herself smiling back.

“Well, Your Majesty? Shall I summon the builders to begin digging a foundation for the dungeons?” Coulson asked, when they alone. “Or does the Prince live another day?”

“He lives another day,” Darcy said, hiding her pinking cheeks behind a fall of hair. She trailed her hand down the smooth scales of the young dragon now perched on her shoulder. It purred loudly in her ear. “And as for the dinner tonight?”

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“Please sit him next to me.”