Chapter Text
There were few days that everyone in the kingdom of Avanna would remember for their entire lives. Not because nothing happened but because very few things happened. The war would always be the first thing to come to mind, if you took the time to ask an Avannian. It was short lived, but brutal, causing the destruction of their capital city of Starn. The King; King Dominant George of the House Barnes, rallied his troops and put an end to the chaos in his streets. Magic was neutralized within the city limits and soldiers arrested all they could. There were so few casualties; it could have hardly been called a war. Even fewer Avannians could tell you the truth of its start.
In the future, they'll probably speak of this day as the next biggest event. Maybe the third biggest event to ever happen. No matter what they thought, this would be the most important event in his life. He would make it so. A marriage was supposed to be the most important day in one’s life, wasn't it? That’s what his mother always told him, as she would tell him once more as soon as he got back to the palace.
He stood a quarter of a day’s ride away by horse, in the former capital. The sky was a dingy brown, as it was for as long as he could remember. Grey clouded over more of the dirty sky - smoke rose high into the air from the industrial buildings’ columns in the next city of Shileen; the new capital. He didn't think people knew how often he came here. How he would be able to after… His flesh right hand caressed the metal of his left arm. It was a constant reminder; his constant reminder of the war. Yet, it was not the memory that stood out in his mind the most. He stands on the ruins of the old palace’s largest balcony, where he and his mother would wave to the citizenship below. Few came this far now, these ruins well beyond the Trough, where the poor and homeless roamed.
He thinks that this day will be first in his mind, then his coronation day, the one that was to take place in a week’s time. Then, maybe, the war will come third. Or children, if he is ever granted with any. All he could do with that one is wait to see if the Gods were gracious to him and his almost-husband.
“We've got to head out if you plan on making it to your wedding, Bucky.” The sentence was a snap back into the material world. Very few people in the world dared to call him, His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Dominant James Buchanan of the House Barnes of Avanna, a nickname like ‘Bucky’. Thankfully, he liked this person. The bright red hair of General Dominant Natalia of the House Romanova, the head of his guard, came around the corner with that expectant look on her face. Little did the kingdom know she was the reason he got his duties done. His best friend came from the military city of Berlek, deep in central Avanna, and was more of an advisor than that of a guard as her title stated she was. It was because of Natalia’s love of structure that he got out of bed most mornings.
“You think Mother would be mad if I tried to postpone it?”
“With the soon-to-be Queen Mother’s retirement and revival of Starn postponed as well? She'd drag you by your ear.” Natalia knew of his doubts in this arranged marriage. He was the only one he spoke to of them. “Everything will be fine, Bucky. I’m sure the Duke will come to love you, as your mother came to love your father and your grandfather to your grandmother. On both sides.” It was an easy reminder of the life they led. A person was born into their title and expected to live up to the life of the one whom held it before them. “Besides,” she just as easily gave him a glare, “if you don't wear that damn tuxedo after all the complaining you did during your fitting, I will have to start an uprising and take your throne.” And with her about to lead his army, he wouldn't be surprised if she succeeded.
For as long as Steve could remember, there was color all around him, even before his magic manifested. What was fascinating was that it wasn't just the color of the world around him. There was color in words and music and letters and numbers and sounds of all kinds. It was overwhelming when he was young, but his time at the Academy taught him to control it.
Everything was different to him, yet, it was all the same too. ‘L’ was quite often green to him, but turned a bright red when stuck next to ‘ove’. ‘Marriage’ had always been bright, innocent and white, and ‘Dominant’ had always been a happy green. Today, though, all the colors in his mind were muddled, as if grey was mixed into each and every one of them. It was as if the Gods were sucking the light from his life.
This, of course, wasn't the case. The day of his marriage was supposed to be the happiest of his life with extra smiles added on because he was marrying the Crown Prince Dominant. He was to do this with no worries or fears or doubts – oh, who was he kidding? He’s never even met the guy and he was to marry him; spend the rest of his life with him. With the contents of this – this – this – this fucking parade of fools, he was to move from his home on Coff Hill to Shileen. He, His Grace, Duke Submissive Steven Grant of the House Rogers of Croanworth, was to become His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Submissive Steven Grant of the House Barnes of Avanna. And then – and then! – A week later he and his husband would be crowned His Royal Majesties King blah blah blah of Avanna. He couldn't even think about it right now. There was already too much floating around in his head.
The journey from his home was faster in the motor vehicles that had been sent by the House Barnes. That still didn't take away from the fact that he was in a procession across the land for hours, only to be pulled from his seat and submerged into wedding preparation. He itched to draw, to let some of his magic and feelings out, but no one would let him out of sight for a second. He could sing instead, but any notes from his mouth would only cause sorrow and tears, which is exactly what was bubbling up inside of him. As if she knew, his tutor Lady Switch Margaret of the House Carter whisked him out of the hands of strangers and took preparation into her own capable hands.
“Sing for me, Steven, while we get you ready.” She took no mind to the balking crowd of the House Barnes servants, shutting the door to the bathing room and starting the tub.
“But you'll cry, my lady.” They both knew she wouldn't, not because of his song. Her magic prevented her from that.
“They'll be happy tears, no matter your song.” The amount of times she told him that she was happy for him and proud of him were uncountable. The words were a coral color in his mind, though he knew they should be a bubbly pink of elation. And so he does as he’s told.
Steve steps from his clothes and into the tub, words pouring from his heart and out his mouth. He doesn't know what he’s singing, let alone if the words are real or in the vernacular. He knows the tune is sad. He knows anyone listening outside of the door would be crying. He continues on as Margaret helps him wash and rub the sweetly smelling oils into his skin and hair. His things must have been either gone through or unpacked as Lady Switch Virginia of the House Potts, the only advisor he was allowed to bring with him, brought in the white suit of misery.
“It’s not going to be bad, Your Grace. All accounts have told me the Crown Prince Dominant is one all Dominants should look up to.” As if he needed the reminder that his almost-husband had slept with a list of people while little him was inexperienced; the image of the pure and innocent submissive.
“How much longer?” He wanted this to all be over already. How much torture could you put one person through?
“Not much, Steven. Be patient.” Margaret put gunk in his hair and ran her fingers through it, styling it how she knew he liked it. He wasn't as antsy as he was earlier, that’s for sure. Virginia tucked his shirt into his pants, and slid the vest onto his shoulders.
“You’re coming together quite nicely, Your Grace.” She spoke softly. She started humming a tune, something upbeat and happy that sunk into his bones. She was using her magic – the same magic he had – to calm him, his nerves and his agitation. He would be even more aggravated at that if she wasn't making him feel so calm.
By the time Bucky got back to the palace, he didn't have time to go see his mother like he planned.
“That’s your fault, bud. Gods save the King.”
“Shut up, Talia.” He shot back as they walked through the halls. “I'm not even King yet.”
“Yeah, you won’t be alive if you don’t make it to the wedding, either, cause she'll kill you.”
“Just shut up!”
“Make sure you scrub behind your ears!” She called out as she veered off. She had her own preparing to do for the ceremony.
He reached his chambers, only a little time until the wedding was to begin. He waved off his personal servants, washing much faster without them in the way. He fumbled with getting the containers for the oil open, the gravity of the situation finally settling in. Without a conscious thought, Bucky traced a symbol in the air, sighing as it glowed bright red and faded, calm washing over him. His hands stopped shaking within a minute, but his head... He shook off the dizziness and delirium that danced in his head. The container is much easier to open this time around. The smell of woods, smoke and a gentle musk get applied modestly, running the excess on his hands through his hair. There was no need to style it with goop today.
“Could you run any later?” Duke Submissive Clint of the House Barton, a very good friend of his, jumped from the chair he was lying across once Bucky got into the room.
“Why aren't you helping Talia?” They were betrothed, after all. Clint ignores him, trying to hand him undershorts. “I don't wear those things.”
“Hear, hear! Long live that decree.” He’s handed trousers instead.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. I'm not King yet!”
“But you will be in a week. You should bring it up with the Council, just in case.”
“One issue at a time, Clint, by the Gods, how does Talia even deal with you? Give me my vest.” He’s ignored once more and handed a black vest to be layered over a red shirt; the house colors were always worn at one’s wedding. Bucky was assisted into a black formal coat and brushed down for stray hairs.
“You clean up well, Your Majesty.”
“Highness - Gods grant me mercy!” The crackle of power through the room must have gotten the hint to Clint finally. Bucky hadn't had the pleasure of going to the Academy to control his magic as others did. For the most part, it was under control. Other times, well, he was told it gets easier once you have a spouse to help.
“We don't have time for that.” Bucky indulged himself with glance to the clock. Shit. Two minutes past; he was already supposed to be at the altar.
Down the many stairs and in a hall far to the right, the palace hid a private Cathedral for the royal family. For the day’s celebration, it had been decorated in yards of deep red with small pops of shocking black. Vases of flowers stood at the end of each pew and the organ played a tune of happy harmony. It was all decorated enough to be considered grand by all of the court gossipers. One newspaper was allowed in to document the occasion. The reporter looked young, inexperienced and overwhelmed. A professional photographer was set up in the back, waiting patiently. Bucky got to the doors of the Cathedral and stopped his run, strolling in as if he was arriving right on time. The people in the pews stood and bowed their heads, the women tilting at the knees in a curtsy. He joined the Archduke Nicholas of the House Fury, the minister for this occasion, at the altar. The signal was given for things to proceed.
That simple signal was all it took. The music shifted into a traditional march, magic infused within it bring everyone to a teary smile. The Cathedral doors opened once more; the guests continued to stand, but their heads were up, awaiting their first look at the soon-to-be Crown Prince Submissive.
Bucky took the moment of distraction to look around. He didn't care much about the decorations; those were for everyone else, as far as he was concerned. He cared about who had shown up, who he would have to deal with following the ceremony, and what he needed to anticipate being said. His mother, Her Royal Majesty, Queen Dowager Submissive Winifred of the House Barnes, was in the front pew with his sister, Her Royal Highness, Crown Princess Switch Rebecca of the House Barnes. No one dared sit with them. His father, Gods rest his soul, had passed away a little over a year ago. This arrangement was the final thing King Dominant George had been working on. It was the main reason Bucky had been adamant on going through with it. In the row behind his family, Clint stood with his other friends – his other Dukes and Lords and parts of his advisory council. The opposite side of the Cathedral were Earls and Barons and Counts that he couldn’t name. Logically, he knew, at least one of those people was here to represent and support his husband.
Speaking of which, he could finally see them at the doorway. Bucky hadn't had the pleasure of meeting his husband before their arrangement. Honestly, they hadn't even seen each other in person until now. He looked just like the picture that had been sent to him: golden hair styled in a messy-yet-handsome manner on his head, fair skin with just a hint of red at his cheeks, nearly unnatural azure eyes, and a delicate frame. Steven, Bucky better get used to using his name, was wearing a very traditional white suit, his vest silver in a symbol of elegance and mystery. It was a question of what was to come.
Talia led the Duke up the aisle. She was a symbol of the security Bucky was about to promise, dressed in her formal military uniform and decorated with her medals. Steven’s own personal guards trailed behind them, holding the House Rogers banner of an eagle clutching a white star in its talons. She led him up to the altar, kneeling in sync with everyone else as she offers Bucky the hand of the only person still standing. He may be shaking a little again as he takes Steven’s hand, but neither of them will ever admit it. This hand is incredibly soft in his hand, and much smaller than he thought it would be. It’s with that hand he leads Steven to his spot next to him.
“Rise and be seated.” The Archduke Fury speaks his first words, beginning the ceremony that would change Bucky and Steven’s lives. “There is a time in everyone’s life where they will feel incomplete. They will realize that something is missing. Then, someone comes into their life and fills the void. This person has felt the same emptiness; they understand how it feels; what it means. Today is that day. We have gathered here together to combine two souls, two lives, to make a new whole life. Today we celebrate the joining of His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Dominant James Buchanan of the House Barnes and the Duke Submissive Steven Grant of the House Rogers.” Bucky and Steve look at the Archduke as he speaks. Bucky, knowing what was coming next, braces himself.
“Before continuing with the ceremony, a moment shall be taken in remembrance of His Royal Majesty, King Dominant George of the House Barnes. Gods save the King.” While his metal hand held his husband’s hand, Bucky’s flesh hand made the sign of the cross of the Gods. Even after of year of his father being gone, it still hurt to acknowledge it. The Archduke turned, dipping his hand in a bowl of blessed water. With his turn back around, he flicked the water on the couple.
“With this water, the Gods wash away the past. They abolish you of sins and sorrows, of fear and loneliness, and all else that has plagued you.” He turns again, dipping his fingers in oil this time. He draws a cross on the forehead of each man. “With these oils, you are given the blessings of Aluin, God of the Hearth, with well wishes of a happy home.” The oil is wiped from the Archduke’s fingers. “It takes great people to take the large step of marriage. It takes even greater people to bind themselves as these two are to do.” Not like we have a choice, Bucky thinks to himself, the law requires magic of the reigning monarchs be bound to one another. “Please, face each other and align your palms. Now, exert just a small amount of your magic.” They watched as Steve’s palms emitted a bright, colorful light and Bucky’s emitted a red, dark glow. It was the reveal of their magic to each other and Bucky couldn't help but think that Steve looked nothing but scared. He wouldn't blame him if he truly was. His magic was nothing to play around with. Nonetheless, their magic accepts one another as the ancient words are spoken in a long dead language, binding their magic together in a show of dark and light radiance.
“Now we bind these men in matrimony.” The Archduke ushers a little girl forward, probably a child of one of the Earls he doesn't know, so she may present them with rings. Bucky picks the right one up first, admiring it as he didn’t have a chance to do before. It was dark platinum with the red star of the House Barnes set in it in the form of a ruby. Bucky shifts their hands, putting one of Steven’s down and picking up the other.
“I, James Buchanan of the House Barnes, do hereby accept you, Steven Grant, of the House Rogers, as my lawfully wedded husband in the eyes of the Gods, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or worse, until death do us part.” He kisses the back of the hand he’s holding, actually thinking how he could kiss up that arm and just gobble this man up in other circumstances. He puts the ring on the fourth finger of his new husband’s left hand. It wasn't until Steve picked up the opposite ring that he looked into Bucky’s eyes for the first time. It wasn't until then that Bucky realized that this was going to probably be harder than he anticipated. Steve’s azure eyes were bright but not with tears or happiness. It was fear that Bucky saw there. The red ears weren't out of lust or desire or passion, but of embarrassment and maybe hate. Once again, Bucky wouldn't blame him. He admired, however, how none of it showed as his vow was recited; how Steven’s magic didn't even slip into his voice.
“I, Steven Grant of the House Rogers, do hereby accept you, James Buchanan of the House Barnes, as my lawfully wedded husband in the eyes of the Gods, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or worse, until death do us part.” Bucky can't feel the ring being put on his metal finger, but the knowledge of its presence there makes it almost as if he can. He can imagine how the cold metal would feel against the heat of his hand, how the raised ruby would be smooth where it was cut. With a nod from the Archduke Fury, it was time for the final part of the ceremony. Bucky purposefully held both of Steven’s hands and looked him in the eyes as Steven eased himself onto his knees.
“I have wed you as my equal, before our friends and family and by the law of the Gods,” Bucky spoke, loud enough so he could be heard, voice smooth as silk, “and now I'm supposed to take that from you.” This part, the collaring ceremony, was not scribed. He was supposed to have done it earlier, but, well, that didn't happen. He hoped winging would suffice as he spoke what was on his mind. “I stand before you, each of us nothing but a mystery to the other, and I find that I can’t take equality from you. Our laws cite, above all, safe, sane and consensual, when it comes to a coupling. As Crown Prince Dominant, as your husband, I can't when I see fear in your eyes.” Although he could almost see it melting away while he spoke. “I will collar you; take you as my submissive, but no matter what tradition dictates I will do no more until you give yourself to me willingly. This, I promise you as your husband, as your spouse, as your Dominant and as your Crown Prince Dominant-to-be-King.” Well, he just done went and fucked all kinds of shit up.
Bucky didn't look, but he knew the crowd would have a look of shock. He broke all kinds of tradition, both royal and common. He’s pretty sure he may have broken a law in his declaration as well. It didn't matter, though, not when the look of fear on Steven’s face had slowly changed into one of appreciation. Bucky couldn't take it back, not that he would. Every word poured from his heart to his mouth, completely bypassing his brain-filter. The council could deal with the aftermath, or whoever took care of those kinds of things. He had more important things to worry about now, like actually getting a collar on Steven.
This he kept in his pocket, unlike the rings. He only let go of Steven’s hand to get it out. The strip of leather was simple compared to his promise. Bucky had picked the leather out himself, the color pitch black and the feeling smooth enough to be compared to silk. It would cause his husband no discomfort. A single pendant hung from the hook made of the same platinum as their wedding rings. The pendant itself wasn't big enough to hold any physical weight but the symbolism of it rung throughout the hall. One side was the ruby red star of the House Barnes. The other was the sparkling white star of the House Rogers, made of the finest diamond. Together, they united and made one whole star; just as Steven was brought into the House Barnes under Bucky’s direction, making a new unit to rule the land. Bucky secures the collar around his submissive’s neck.
“By the power sanctioned to me by Her Majesty, Queen Dowager Submissive Winifred of the House Barnes, and by the Gods of Avanna, I now pronounce you husband and husband, Dominant and submissive.” It took a moment for the Archduke Fury’s words to sink into the crowd. Bucky’s mother was the first one to clap. It started a roar of applause throughout the Cathedral. Bucky kissed his submissive’s head and helped him to his feet. They thanked the Archduke, smiled to each other and turned to the crowd. The new couple waved, holding hands, and unknowingly thinking the same thing.
This is going to be a long night.