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justalonelyslytherin · 1 year

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My Kingdom, Your Kingdom | four

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Pairing: secret king!Steve Rogers x heir apparent!female Reader

Summary: Plans change once again over breakfast. As they approach a solution that everyone can agree with, the girls learn a little something about their hosts.

Warnings: mentions of loss of parents/parental death

Wordcount: 4.2k

If you enjoyed reading this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging. I don’t allow for my content to be copied, translated, or reposted on other websites/apps. Please don’t steal my work.

A/N: The dividers are made by @/firefly-graphics

Taglist: open, in the reblogs, let me know if you want to be added

Pressure shifted and stretched the wooden floorboards, creeks elicited like soft groans as each one bore the weight of her sleep-addled and heavy steps. It was morning, whether early or late she couldn’t tell. Going by the feel and atmosphere it felt like early morning, the air fresh and still crisp from the night yet everything else for the latter. The sun peeking over the tops of the trees caused every little flake of snow to shine and shimmer like a sea of thousands upon thousands of diamonds.

As she rounded the corner under the staircase, spilling into the main living room, two familiar faces awaited her. Her sisters were sitting on the couches to the right in front of the - freshly lit - fireplace. Tendrils of fire lapped and curled around the logs of wood, a fine billow of smoke danced above it as the embers glowed brightly in the deepest parts of the fire. The crackling of the fire was overshadowed by the loud munching of her youngest sister. The young girl chewed loudly on whatever she had gotten her hands on while Natasha sat beside her with a steaming cup in her hand.

Notes of bitterness, the distinct smell of ground coffee, mixed into the overall headiness of the acrid smoky tones of the fire and the tangy smell of the tree sap from the burning logs. Natasha was never to be seen without a cup of coffee in the mornings. Sometimes she wondered how her sister had survived in their childhood before she had ever tasted her first drop of the bitter brew.

They were both silently sitting there, sipping and munching on as she slowly approached them. It was eerily. Their eyes were locked on the staircase, barely noticing her at all and certainly not acknowledging it even as she stood directly in front of them. Following their eye line there was nothing to see. Nothing out of the ordinary at least.

It was a magnificent and humbling view, this imposing and grand living room with the looming staircase. Perhaps its effect - now in the broadened light - had caused this, even if she found that it had been just as great a sight in the dark evening of yesterday.

In the end, she concluded it couldn’t be an interest in either architecture or interior design her sisters had developed over the course of the night. Only when she turned to face them again, picked her ears up a different clue. Clattering sounds and some quieter mutters traveled into the great hall, coming from no other place than the kitchen that lay on the other side of the staircase.

“Is something going on?” She asked them. Yelena hummed, shoving another handful of flaky, cracker-y, orange squares into her mouth. The packet she held clutched to her chest said Cheez its, whatever that was.

“They are arguing,” Natasha told her dryly, taking another sip from her mug.

“About us?” Patting over, mindful for her feet to not get caught on the carpet, she plopped down onto the soft cushion beside them.

“Yes,” Natasha answered just as honestly once more, causing her older sister to sigh.

“Blondie–”

“–His name is Steve,” she scolded Yelena. The younger one grinned at her, eyes sparkling. “They are letting us stay here, you could at least have enough courtesy to call him by his name instead of giving him ridiculous and mean names.”

It was the same spiel every time. Yelena rolled her eyes and pouted at her sister. The only difference now was that the glare Y/N shot her was enough to silence the whine that usually accompanied it. You are not our etiquette teacher, why do you have to be just as stiff about protocols and rules?

She wasn’t. Not truly anyway. But between the youngest sister and the oldest, there was a difference in duty and expectation Yelena couldn’t understand. She was the overlooked sibling when it came to the line of succession. While all the weight was dumped onto the heir's shoulders, Yelena could frolic around. She had the opportunity to make mistakes and not take everything so seriously while Y/N had to overthink every step, look and word she uttered. Everything could be used against her.

“Steve apparently doesn’t think it’s a good idea to drop us off in the town. Since we’ve got no money to pay for a hotel room or literally anything else. Grumpy and Grumpier aren’t happy.” This time when she shot her sister another look it was in unison with Natasha raising her eyebrow.

“What?” Yelena shrugged, “They started murmuring and bickering when we were still in the kitchen.

Peculiar that was, at least for her. She did share Steve’s sentiment. It brought her back to all the unanswered questions she’d pushed away from her thoughts the previous evening. Now she’d run out of time. There wasn’t any chance to postpone it any longer, she had to confront them.

They had nothing on them. No wallet, no phone, not even a piece of identification. Perhaps the last one was better that way. Their lack of finances however posed a serious problem. They couldn’t afford a hotel room, yes, but what they also couldn’t afford was any fuel for the car.

The car. Would it still be at the side of the road? How were they even supposed to find the car? Even if they managed to obtain some fuel for it, how would they get it to the car and who said it would even work? Could cars freeze to death too?

“Breakfast is ready.” Sam leaned against the bottom post of the staircase, arms crossed in front of his chest, yet his voice was warm and inviting.

In the kitchen, an icy, tense atmosphere reigned. Bucky was grumbling, his dark stare focused on his steaming cup of coffee. It felt strange to enter, well aware of why this bad mood was swirling all around them. Her eyes sought out Steve, who was leaning with his back against the kitchen counter, arms bent and forearms bracing against the edge. Just to the side behind him, a pot peeked out of the sink. The pot they had made hot chocolate with during the night.

Expertly Steve split the sweet, creamy brown liquid into two big mugs without even spilling a drop. A thin trickle tried to escape still, running down the side of the pot which he was quick to collect with his fingers. Both from the hot pot as well as from the warm liquid he hissed, quickly sticking his finger into his mouth. Both to lick the droplet away and to cool his now-burned finger.

“Are you alright?”, she asked him in concern, brows knitted together as her eyes wouldn’t shift from the finger he still suckled on. Steve smiled at her from around it and nodded.

“Already better, see?” With that he released his finger, showing her the reddened tip. It caused her to smile, chuckle even, as she nodded.

“Want me to blow on it?” The words had left her lips before she had been able to properly think of their meaning. They’d hardly left her lips, yet it was already too late when it dawned on her. With terror in her eyes, she stared at him.

Steve looked at her in surprise, lips parted. Time felt frozen, she didn’t dare to move or breathe at all. Only when Steve snorted, his lips pulling into a big grin, could she take a gulp of air again. His eyes glinted in mischief as he leaned forward, finger hovering before her lips now. And she? She huffed amusedly, eyes jumping between his and his finger before she softly blew out a small stream of air.

“Is that something you do with your sisters?” He asked her curiously.

“I used to. Yelena was a sensitive child and blowing on it was a magical solution for all her problems. It helped calm her down.” Thinking back on past times, she became nostalgic. “My mother used to do it with me…before she died.”

Steve’s happy expression was quickly replaced with one of compassion and perhaps a twinge of personal sorrow. “You don’t have…?” He trailed off as she nodded.

“They both died when Yelena was still a baby. I don’t think she even remembers them.

Sometimes even I have trouble remembering; what their voices sounded like, how they looked.”

Steve hummed as he braced his hip against the counter. “Bucky and Sam are my family. They are all that I have left.”

Suddenly their behavior made a lot more sense to her. Not that she had been able to be upset or angered over their ways. How could she blame them for being protective of the blonde when she felt the exact same way about her sisters?

A rich aroma of nutty, cinnamony deliciousness unfurled in the kitchen. The sweet scent dispelled the heavy silence between them in a flash and pulled both their eyes toward the steaming mugs. Steve grabbed both around the rim. In his big hands, the mugs - who were bigger than the average mug she had seen - looked dwarfed. Easily he passed along one of them to her.

The cup wasn’t hot, it was cozily warm as she wrapped both hands around its rotund body. Cradling the cup close to her, nose hovering over it, she inhaled deeply. The scent exploded in richness and tickled her nose. It enveloped her like a thick blanket of warmth, comfort, and sweetness, reminding her of the doting hug of a mother, the caressing embrace of a lover.

A smile broke out on her lips, one that ticked upwards as she crossed Steve’s fond expression. He eyed her curiously. A tingle of impatience radiated from him, an air of excitement as he awaited her judgment. His jaw jutted out minimally, nodding towards the mug and inviting her to a taste.

Careful not to burn her tongue she blew on the surface. The liquid rippled in small waves that reminded her of the calm tide she’d seen on the Great Lake as they had driven by. Just as its fragrance exploded the flavor across her tongue. Creamy was the liquid, plush in chocolaty heaven from the mix of milk and dark. As the taste melted on her tongue the hints of vanilla and cinnamon came through.

Loudly she hummed and closed her eyes once more. Her head leaned backward, nose pointing towards the ceiling. The warmth traveled into her belly and from there on spread throughout her.

“It’s delicious,” she gushed, a satisfied little smirk on her lips as she glanced over at Steve. The intensity with which he looked at her made her feel even hotter. His stare was strong but not menacing…just so deep. Boring into her soul. “Steve,” she murmured, snapping him out as his eyes jumped to cross with hers once more, “that’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

Pride blossomed in his chest, it scorched through him to the tips of his fingers and toes and curled up his spine in a pleasant spark. She watched him preen under her words, like a cat reveling in pets.

“Y-yeah?” His voice cracked, much deeper than it had been just moments before. Happiness danced in his eyes. He tried to hide his grin behind the mug as he took a taste of his own. The slow rumble, akin to a soft groan, sounded absolutely sinful.

As they entered his eyes had sought her out just as she had him. His bright blue eyes met hers and a soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips as she glanced back at him from the pot.

While Steve’s smile was soft, his body told a different story. Outwardly he seemed relaxed in the way he leaned there, but his shoulders were square and tense. There was tightness in his muscles, strength coiled beneath them, ready to snap if needed.

“Hope you are hungry,” Sam said as he sought his way between them and walked over to the pans on the stove that sizzled on low heat. “I made pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns, and toast.” It was an overwhelming amount of food, and some she didn’t know exactly what it was.

He started to fill multiple plates until each of them had one standing before them. Each plate for her sisters and her had a little bit of everything. The plates of the boys were stacked high and almost overflowing, at minimum double her portion. Bucky’s plate stood alone and untouched on the kitchen island, which now doubled as the dining table, even if there was an even bigger, perfectly fine one just beside it.

Steve glanced over at the brunette before he nodded toward his plate. “Sit and eat.” His stern voice surprised her. He sounded commandeering and dominant. It was the voice of authority and reminded her of the orders the Generals in the royal guard and military would speak.

Bucky glared at the blonde, a recurring look. She wondered if it was perhaps his standard expression. He always looked so grumpy and glared at everyone. Only briefly had he softened his features during his apology the evening before. Steve had told her Bucky had a nice and friendly side too, you'd just have to crack down the walls he put up. She felt certain she would never see that happening.

The air continued to feel thick and tense, even as the sound of scraping cutlery set in. It weighed heavily on her mind, wouldn't let her go. Barely having touched her breakfast she set down knife and fork and looked over at the three men.

“I think we have overstayed your welcome. Thank you so much for opening your home to us.” Steve looked at her in alarm, Bucky and Sam clearly surprised too. Even her sisters did so, albeit their reactions varied in intensity. Yelena gaped, her cutlery clanked against the marble countertop while Natasha eyed her from the side, eyes minutely widened.

“What do you mean?” Yelena demanded to know loudly, swinging around in her chair. “Go where?”

“Back home,” she told her in the tongue of their country. Pinching her lips together and balling her hands into fists the strain was ever present all across her. She knew it was barely a plan they had. No fuel, no car. But she didn’t want to cause a rift between Steve and his friends and neither did she want to stay in a place where they weren’t truly welcome.

“We only got here,” Yelena whined, a frown etched on her face so deeply it pulled on the corners of her mouth. She was good at that. Years of being exposed to her sad, disappointment-face however had made her resilient against it. And so she answered in a voice lacking any emotion, clipped and strong.

“And it was a mistake. We shouldn’t have come in the first place.”

“The car is useless,” Natasha, who had been eyeing Bucky's frown attentively until that moment, turned towards the two of them, “We are stranded, what do you plan to do?

Walk back on foot? We’ll freeze to death before we’ll even reach the lake. Crossing the mountain pass on foot is lunatic. You are asking to slip and break your neck. Or to get eaten by a mountain lion. Either way, it’s death that will await us.”

“Go back?” Bucky spoke up, quietly and reserved, startling all of them. She looked at the brunette in horror. His words were the catalyst for the descent into chaos.

“Whoa, hold up! What?” Sam guffawed, mouth half-full with his last bite of egg and hash brown, as he looked between all of them. Steve…Steve looked like he was about to lose his marbles. He looked spooked, ghostly white around his nose as he stared at her in open shock. His mouth opened but no words came out.

“You speak widovian?” Yelena sounded scandalized, her words were shrill and loud and her pitch was higher than usual as she gawked at the brunette.

“The basics, yes,” he answered her soberly. It did nothing to calm the situation or her sister down.

“How?” Natasha asked, her blue eyes rendering in on him. She was ever as calm and collected as she appeared to be. In her eyes curiosity glistened, a spark of something more solemnly seen in the redhead.

“That’s not what’s important!” Steve’s voice had an edge to it. He had composed himself enough to enter the conversation yet desperation and urgency still brewed inside him.

At once the chaos had been brought to a halt. Everyone focused on him. Once more there was this authority in his voice, this leading nature that permeated from him. He looked between all of them until his eyes zeroed in on her.

“Don’t leave.” His voice shook the slightest bit.

“Steve,” she whispered with a heavy sigh.

“No!” The strength with which his voice boomed startled her. Instantly he softened, mumbling a smaller “No. Please let me speak.”

“You don’t have to leave.” She waited patiently for him to continue, to explain his reasons. There came no more, Steve was tongue-tied. Too many thoughts in his head, too many things he wanted to say at the same time, all conveying the same thing, and yet he couldn’t speak a single one of them out loud.

“We are causing nothing but disruption between you. I don’t want to be the cause of your fights.”

“You are not,” Bucky interrupted. He clenched his jaw as he looked at her and then at Steve. “I am.”

“You are looking out for your friend the same way I am doing for my sisters–”

“That doesn’t mean I can’t be in the wrong,” he told her sternly, “or come on too strong, be too overbearing.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. In the end, she didn’t have to remark anything as Bucky continued all the same.

“If I know I’m wrong, I’ll admit to it.” He spoke openly and in recognition after a bout of silence. It was his insistence however that surprised her the most. “I was wrong. I judged you once again. Instead of considering reality, I thought my imagination to be the truth. I’ve pictured you still as the enemy, as I was blinded by rumors and false claims. Yet you keep proving that there are no ill intentions. I was too blind to see and accept.” His self-awareness and candor were honorable. “My intention was never to make you feel unwelcome here, nor to drive you back to the place you sought to leave out of lack of other options.

You should stay a couple of days longer. At least hear out Steve’s proposition before you make your final decision.”

He made it hard for her to deny this request. Bucky’s sincerity could be felt, he deeply regretted making her feel this way and nearly driving them out. In the end, it wasn’t him who settled the matter, it was Steve once again. When she looked over at the blonde, sitting across the kitchen island from her, her heart painfully constricted. The desperation was ever-present in his eyes. She could tell he sat on edge, not daring to breathe until she confirmed. He looked at her entirely hopeful, how could she refuse?

“I suppose so,” she mumbled and emphasized her words with a nod. Steve let out a loud sigh, his shoulders visibly sinking. Not only him, she realized in surprise. All three men visibly relaxed. Both Sam and Steve sank back in their seats, bracing their weight against the chair's backrest. Bucky's hands unclenched. She hadn’t even noticed he’d balled them in the first place.

Even her sisters seemed to be relieved. Natasha’s lips quirked upward as she hid half a smirk behind a systematic sip from her coffee, while Yelena had looked at her nearly as hopeful as Steve. Now her eyes shone in bright happiness, together with the satisfied smile on her lips. Seeing both of them so happy made her previously tight pulled lips soften into a smile as well.

“I assume the cause for your dispute has to do with the proposition?” Steve looked over at Natasha. Bucky and he looked surprisingly shameful at the mention. A little like two young boys squirming after they’d been caught doing something they shouldn’t have done. The notion quickly dissolved as Steve nodded and straightened up. Clearing his throat, his eyes wandered over to her, and only as he had her focused in his radiant eyes, he spoke.

“Don’t leave. You are more than welcome to keep being our guest.” She nodded at that, so far the plan had looked to be about that. It wasn’t something new, so that couldn’t be the end of the proposition, could it?

“Our plan was to take you to town and find you a hotel. We’d have paid for it,” he could see her mouth opening in protest. One pointed look and she ceased that try. It made him smile in pleasance.

“That would be out of the question now tho.”

“Sam is right. It’s winter and close to Christmas. At the busiest time of the year, all hotel rooms are bound to be booked. I fear there won’t be any place left, we could have found you anyway.” He didn’t look one bit apologetic, she noted, intently listening. “So stay. Here at the cabin. With us.”

“How long?” Once more Natasha spoke up.

“We’ll be staying until the end of the week, then we’ll have to get back in time for Christmas. Come with us. We can take you further into the country. We can even take you all the way ‘til the capital.” This time when Steve looked at her hopefully she didn’t feel the same volition to agree. Instead, her heart dropped to her stomach.

“You are from the capital?” His nod made her stomach constrict tighter, like a vice slowly squeezing the life out of her.

“We,” he glanced at Bucky and Sam, “we all work there. As guards in the castle.” Fear must be written all over her face as she paled, dread filling her. She’d been blinded by his gentle nature, so much she had run her sisters and herself right into a trap. Recoiling from her seat at the kitchen island, she felt herself tremble. He must have guessed her thoughts as Steve rounded the counter in an instant.

“Hey, no. It’ll be alright. We won’t hurt you. No one will do anything to you, I promise. You are safe here. No one will do anything to you for being from Widovia.”

“The King the least of all,” Bucky snorted, glancing at Steve. She couldn’t help but think she was missing something, a detail that they were aware of and she was not. Similarly, there was one detail that she knew and they didn’t. If they only knew her sisters and her weren’t just anyone from Widovia. If they knew they wouldn’t be as friendly or as helpful. Perhaps they’d taken them straight to the capital to present them to their king. The king that was her enemy. The one person in the world she’d never be safe from.

“Any person seeking help, no matter where they come from, is welcome in Brooklyn. You can get help if you want to.” Steve’s thumbs softly stroked over her shoulders, the weight of his hands felt soothing even if she continued doubting his words. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but you would be helped. The king has set up measures so that anyone needing it can receive help. We’d be able to arrange a place for you to stay. Jobs too so you would be able to be independent.”

“We could also drop you off somewhere along the way.” Steve didn’t look happy at Sam’s additional option. She saw his brows knit. He frowned briefly, the unhappy expression melting away when he looked back at her. His eyes turned soft and warm once more, searching for hesitancy in her own. He no doubt would try to rid her of any objection or reluctance until there was none left.

She didn’t really know what to say. Once more they were offered such immense niceness and help by these three strangers. Three strangers from a country that was supposed to be evil, where each one of its inhabitants was said to be foul and rotten on the inside. Three strangers that should be her enemy. Steve was eager to help, she could feel the sincerity of his words and actions. It made her feel all the worse to lie to them.

“That is an incredibly kind and big offer…” Trailing off she glanced at the others. Even if it felt like everything around them vanished the moment she looked into his eyes in truth his friends and her sisters remained. Natasha and Yelena sat beside her, left and right, as Steve had squished himself between Natasha’s chair and hers. “We’ll have to think about it. Together.”

Steve’s smile diminished only until he caught himself. Pressing his lips together he nodded and soon there was his soft smile again. “You have time to decide until we leave.”

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