Eight
Fury had made clear what Maria had hinted at. This was not an official court. She'd need more males than that, and Natasha felt that she had enough to deal with, with three. The Steward, Coulson, had brought details and maps of the local area. Maria was a District Queen, ruling over three villages. She had an idea of where Natasha might live.
Natasha did not want to take charity, but she recognised that she had no choice. She had come to Kaeleer with nothing but the ragged clothes on her back, and the few personal possessions she had stored away. Every speck of coin she scraped together had bought her way into the service fair, and that left very little. Someday though, she was repay Maria for her kindness.
And Maria had not hidden the fact that Natasha would also have to check in with the Territory and Province Queens.
The atmosphere in the Coach was tense as Natasha entered. Tony slouched on one bench, with Steve opposite him. Clint sat with his head in his hands, but looked up at Natasha.
“May I have a word?” Natasha asked him, very careful to use a requesting tone. Clint nodded, and rose.
The Coach wasn't one of the largest, but there was still room for a small study. Natasha red-locked the door behind them both and put up an aural shield. Clint leaned against the desk, outwardly tense, but content.
A Queen did not have to explain herself to any male.
Natasha wanted to explain herself to Clint.
“I don't know how to be a Queen,” she said softly. “I can pretend, but its just a role.”
Clint said nothing, but his eyes betrayed his confusion.
“I trust you, Clint, the Darkness only knows why considering my past. You're the first Warlord Prince I can say that about. You let me into your mind. If I had wanted, I could have burned your mind to ash, and you would have let me.”
“You're my Queen,” Clint said simply.
She locked eyes with him.
*You're part of the Inner Triangle, First Escort Clint* she sent. *Court or not. Maria tells me that Tony needs a strong Queen, needs to understand that he is subordinate. That was why I was so strong. I cannot trust him, I cannot be vulnerable to him. Not yet.*
Understanding lit in Clint's eyes. *To be firm with one, be firm with all*
*Yes.*
*You were right though, lady. I was out of line* he sent, along with an invitation to peep inside his barriers.
She saw what he would like to do, and slowly nodded, bracing herself. Clint stepped away from the desk, control in every step. He wrapped one arm around her waist loosely, and leaned his head on her shoulder, breathing deeply. She had room to manoeuvre, room to escape if she chose, if the maleness grew to be too much.
Instead, she wrapped her arm around his shoulders, and felt his warmth radiating through his shirt. She wouldn't let Challiot taint her future.
*Your will is my life. Take what you need.* he said formally. Instead of kneeling, he opened his mind fully again.
Natasha could have stood like that forever, relishing in the trust and surrender, but there was a soft knock on the door. Clint came alert and his barriers came up as he stepped away from her.
“May I enter, Lady?” came the voice of Steve, audible only to Natasha through her shielding.
“Come in,” Natasha said, releasing the lock and the shield.
Steve looked out of place as he entered, almost as if he was moving on a painted background. There was still that shiver of recognition though.
Steve dropped to his knees. “Your will is my life. Take what you need,” he repeated the vow.
“You're keen,” Clint said, conveniently forgetting that he had said those same words not that long ago.
“I've found my Queen,” Steve said simply. Despite his caste, there was a touch of the Warlord Prince possessiveness in his words. Natasha could feel Clint's approval.
“Is this a private party, or can anyone join?” and Tony spoke from the doorway. The study was starting to feel crowded now.
“Anyone can,” Clint spoke up, all tenseness come from him now.
Tony looked at the knelling Steve, and up at Natasha, and back at Steve.
Slowly, Tony knelt as well, and Steve twitched his legs aside to give Tony more room.
The rose web thrummed above Natasha as Tony spoke his vow silently. In the mind, his words were missing the mocking tone his physical words were edged with.
His brown eyes bored into her green, but Natasha maintained a steady look. Clint flicked a questioning tone at her, and she twitched a finger no, behind her back.
Mind to mind, she could sense the looming complexity of Tonys mind, draped in rose red sarcasm.
*Thank you* she sent softly. Tony did not respond as he rose, followed by Steve.
“All done?” Tony said. “Time for a nap, then.”
Natasha nodded, and let Clint escort her to a seat while Steve went to consult with the driver.
With eyes closed, Natasha was left alone with her thoughts.