A/N - This is a reader request, and certainly something in my area of expertise. I absolutely love writing royal/historical stories and being a fan of things such as Merlin, The Tudors and Skyrim etc, I hope to bring some of this into this oneshot - this is very special indeed!
Synopsis: When her father Philip, Jarl of Wisconsin dies in battle, his daughter Amberley is imprisoned, awaiting to suffer the same fate. Execution. However her captor, the High King of Brooklyn, Steven Rogers has other ideas. Coming to stand trial before the court, Amberley is given a choice - the executioners block or marriage to the enemy.
**
The tower was just how people described it to be. Lonely, dark and cold. The last place that people saw before they were sent to the executioner's block. The cells did not provide when it came to the form of comfort – and why should comfort be provided to traitors? The bed was a luxury in some ways, but was just as hard and cold as the cell itself. There was a single desk and a chair and a chamber pot. That was it. The last 'home comforts' anyone had.
Lady Amberley Coulson had been there for days, simply picking at the meagre meals of bread and water that the guards brought her. The aftermath of the battle had meant that the city her father, Jarl Philip, had governed had been seized by the crown, all lands and assets now under the rule of the High King.
With the army breaking down the barricades, Amberly been arrested for treason and taken to what people called the 'Golden City'.
To her it was hell on earth.
Brooklyn.
Now here she sat awaiting trial. Many times she'd hazarded a guess at what her outcome would be. No doubt the King would send her to the block anyway. A quick swing of the axe would be fine if the executioner were skilled. Amberley had made peace with her fate – now it was just a case of waiting.
The waiting was enough to send anyone insane.
From outside the door she heard footsteps and someone speaking with the guard. Amberley rose as the door opened and in walked the man who had arrested her just days earlier.
"Leave us." He told the guard, who nodded and closed the door, locking it behind them.
She bobbed a quick curtsey, not wanting to meet his eye. This man had been one of the many who had taken everything from her. What more could he possibly want? Blood? Her soul even? That was already breaking, each day the crack grew more at the thought of never seeing her father again. She wasn't about to break just yet, but now she looked at her hands she could see them shaking.
King Steven leant back against the wall and crossed his arms, watching her with interest. It was not common for him to make house calls to prisoners so it were, however this one? She was a 'special case'. Amberley had not yet even realised who he was and that would remain unknown until she came to stand before him at her trial. "The guards have reported that you're on some type of hunger strike."
She looked up with fire in her eyes. "I am not hungry. You will forgive me for being used to something more filling other than a simple lump of bread and water."
"You shall have to get used to the new menu then." He shrugged. "My advice would be to eat. If you are to stand before the court...well, you will need to make sure you can actually stand. Malnutrition isn't the best way of proving your innocence."
"Why do you care?"
"I don't." he replied flippantly. "As far as I'm concerned you made the wrong decision siding with Jarl Anthony..."
Amberley half laughed. "I am but nineteen years old! When he came to sit on his throne, I was not even a babe in arms!" She now glared up at him, still settled on the floor. "How could I have possibly known who was right and who was wrong?"
Then he smiled. Amberley couldn't quite tell why. "If you want your life spared, then I would make that point clear to the King and the court when you come to stand before them. He is not an unfair man. If you want to survive then may I suggest you start playing your cards right..."
"And how would I do that?" She looked at him challengingly.
He pushed himself off the wall and held out a hand for her to take. She did and he helped her up from the floor. Amberley stayed frozen to the spot as he circled her like an eagle to its prey. "It's a game...a dangerous one at that." She now felt him behind her, his breath on her neck as he moved her hair over to one side of her shoulder. "But I have no doubt that you are clever enough to play it..."
Then he made for the door, knocking on it so that the guard could unlock it.
"There has to be a start..." she said as he went to walk out. He stopped and looked back at her. "To every game...it must have a start..."
He now looked her up and down. "We've already started, haven't we?" and then he walked out. The door closing behind him.
**
The guards said nothing as they came in the next morning. They simply shackled her, led her out of the cell and down the steps. They didn't answer her questions, demanding to know where she was being taken – so she gave up and allowed fate to take the lead.
All eyes were on her as she was brought into a hall where at the head of it, sat King Steven. Stood to one side of his throne, watching patiently was Sir James Barnes - Steve's best friend and commander of his Army, and on the other, Sir Sam Wilson. Another trusted man within the King's inner circle.
Amberley was immediately pushed down onto her knees once she reached him. Now looking up and seeing the man who apparently was the King staring down at her. She had been a fool for not realising that her visitor was in fact the very same man who had slain her father.
It had been a cruel trick.
"Lady Amberley..."
"Your majesty..." She tried not to let on that her voice was shaking.
Steve now tapped his fingers on the arm of his throne. "You understand why you have been brought before me?"
She looked up at him. "Yes sire, you think me a traitor..."
"Because you are. You and your father." Steve replied firmly. "Who, by the way, is rotting on a battlefield as we speak...you wish to receive the same fate? Death?"
Amberley swallowed. "No, sire...my father was a stubborn man, even I know that. It does not surprise me that he refused to pledge allegiance and fought for what he believed in."
"But you do?" Steve now questioned but did not await an answer. "Barnes here thinks that you are a very clever young woman. One who was led to believe that Tony Stark and his faction were the true family to sit upon the throne of Brooklyn. It makes sense, so I have a rather generous offer to bestow."
"An offer? Sire?"
Steve looked at her, "Marriage to the me will secure your allegiance to me and my Kingdom. It will grant you many benefits, one of them being the High Queen...but should you choose to make the same decision as your father, then you will face the block at dawn..."
"Do I have a choice?"
"No." Steve now spoke coldly.
She swallowed. "Then you have my allegiance..." her eyes then went to his, "and my hand..."
"You were right Barnes. She is sensible..." Steve smiled, his eyes still on Amberley. "And very beautiful...it would have been a great shame if you were to have chosen the block."
"I am a woman who knows what is good for me, sire." Amberley felt herself becoming a little more confident now. She had to show him that she did not fear the man who was to now become her husband. "A trait I inherited from my mother, so I am told."
Steve chuckled. "and you are amusing. I have no doubt that you will thrive here." Steve now gestured for her to get up. "You are pardoned and hereby welcome at court. Lodgings shall be arranged for you and wedding preparations will start immediately".
She curtsied. "Thank you, your majesty."
Amberley couldn't have walked out of the hall fast enough, then grabbing onto the wall to steady herself. She couldn't breathe as she now had to process that her father was well and truly gone, and she was to marry the man who, in her eyes, was her enemy.
"It's a game...a dangerous one at that." Steve's words now echoed in her mind.
The game had already begun from the moment that the King himself had arrested her, and now she would have to play to ensure her survival.