finally they set up a truce

I Only Wanted You

Request: Bellamy and reader request where finn never massacred the grounders so when lexa offers a truce, reader is forced to marry a grounder and he abuses her… but Bellamy stops it and figures a way out. With love confessions and a happy ending please.

Requested by: anonymous.

A/N: Sorry I didn’t post much today, I took the day off to spend time with my family and play Resident Evil 7:), plus I didn’t have any requests. Until I saw this one, and really wanted to write it! Please, don’t forget to send in some requests!

Warning: force marriage. abusive relationship. i don’t mean to insult anyone, if you don’t like this type of prompt, don’t read.


Originally posted by bobmorleypictures

“This truce…” Lexa spoke slowly and with intrigued eyes, you watched her pace back and forth. You stood next to Bellamy and behind Clarke, you co-leaded with the two, though you were more like a consoler and vice-giver then anything. Despite that, Lexa wished to have you in the room.

You couldn’t help but feel her second-in-commands, a tall male, who stood broad, eyes on you. You tried to ignore the way it made you feel uncomfortable, but you could feel his eye slinger longer then they should and his eyes drift up and down. 

You stood closer to Bellamy then before, fear rising in your throat at the lecherous look in his eyes. Bellamy paid no mind to you, only thinking you were cold or something.

“Yes, if we want to save our people in Mount Weather, I believe we need to establish a truce.” Clarke explained, leaning over the table as she looked at Lexa pleadingly. You watched, ignoring the man and instead focusing on your leader. You wanted this truce to work, you really did, or else you would be able to save your family. You wouldn’t be able to save Harper, who happened to be your best friend.

“I understand that, Clarke.” Lexa nodded, and you didn’t miss the way her eyes drifted to you. “But we need some sort of trade agreement to establish the truce, my second-in-command, Thune, reminds me of that.” 

“Anything.” You stepped up, all eyes falling on you as you cut in. You gave Lexa a smile and nodded. “We will give you anything. I will give you anything.” You could feel Bellamy’s gaze on you but shook your head, but when you looked back at Lexa you couldn’t ignore the way her eyes stared at you in sympathy, as if she knew something you didn’t.

“Yes, well… we have already thought of something.”

“What is it?” Bellamy asked, suspicious.

“Thune wishes to have a wife.” She said, hiding her internal feelings as she raised her chin, staring at you directly. Suddenly, as if everything clicked, you took a step back in shock. Clarke’s eyes falling on you as she too realized, you let our gaze drift the Thune seeing him walk towards you with a wide smile.

“No.” Bellamy stepped in front of you, his voice stern and demanding. He effectively blocked Thune’s path towards you and you fiddled with your fingers, looking down. Was this really the only way? You didn’t understand. Why you? Why must he had a wife in order for the truce to be established?

“There must be some other way,” Clarke reasoned.

“There isn’t.” Thune finally spoke, staring at you over Bellamy’s shoulders.

Clarke glared at him before turning to Lexa, you didn’t miss the way their eyes drifted longer than they should. There was something more there… “Commander, please. What does him having a wife have to do with our truce?”

Lexa stayed silent, seemingly thinking over things before she finally answered. “We must… have one of your people here in order to make sure you all mean well. We are vulnerable in this truce and we can not have you betraying us, the most effective way is to keep someone of yours here.” She explained, and you reasoned that it did make sense. The only thing is why you? Or why as a wife? You would’ve possibly offered to stay willingly, but you weren’t ready to be married, especially to a man you didn’t know. A man you didn’t love…

“Okay… why Y/N? Why as a wife?” Clarke asked, not giving up on you yet.

“Because my wife was killed by your people.” Thune cut in, glaring at Clarke darkly as he took a threatening step toward you. Bellamy tensed, his hand falling to the gun strapped to his leg.

“i-i…” Clarke stumbled for words.

“No.” Bellamy repeated, “anyone else. Not Y/N.” 

“There is no other choice.” Lexa said and you sighed.

“I will not let them take her, Clarke.” Bellamy said, only directing his sentence to Clarke. You watched as Thune’s face twisted in anger and Bellamy went to pull out his gun before you grabbed his wrist. The room went still as you let out a deep breath, Bellamy’s gaze falling on you. You smiled at him sadly, before stepping in front of him. You looked directly at Thune, despite the fear that nestled in your stomach.

“Fine.” You spoke, all eyes once again on you. “I will be your wife, but only if you promise not to betray us. That the truce will stay in effect.” 

Lexa nodded, “yes. I promise.”

“Y/N!” Bellamy’s voice practically boomed, you turned to him. “I have to Bell,” you nodded.

“There has to be another way.” He whispered harshly towards you.

“There isn’t. Please, save our people.” You leaned up kissing his cheek, until you felt a tight grip on your upper arm. You turned to see Thune, ready to lead you out before his gaze drifted to Lexa’s obediently.

“Y/N, this truce happened because of your willingness. You will be treated right.”

You left one final gaze towards Bellamy before you were dragged out of the room.


Your fear was rightly placed. Thune was mean and harsh, he didn’t treat you as a human rather something pretty to look at. You never knew grounders could be this cruel, even when they had set war against you, before this. He stared at you with hunger and anger, his eyes twisted as he repeatedly beat you.

You weren’t allowed to leave the house. You hadn’t seen your people in days and instead the same boarded walls, Thune would leave during the day and you would be forced to work. You wondered if this was how he treated his last wife, or if the anger of loosing her caused this. Either way, you didn’t care, you just wanted out. You needed out.

You were scared to speak. Scared to move when he was home. He was much stronger than you and you hadn’t been able to collect anything of your things from Camp Jaha before your stay. 

You missed everyone, but most of all you missed Bellamy. You wanted to see his freckled face staring at you, giving you hope in the most hopeless situations. You were restless and scared.

Marks and bruises marred your skin. He had even tried to force you, but you’d fought, screaming before he gave up. When he had, you’d realized that he was scared of being caught. That what he was doing was wrong and he could potentially get in a lot of trouble for this. You had thought about running to Lexa, hoping maybe she’d understand but there was no way. Not with Thune in your way.

You were weak. And everything hurt. Even now when you laid on the cot, Thune was gone and you weren’t sure when he’d be back. But you relished in the quietness.

You regretted thinking that when the sound of the door opening squeaked and you immediately sat up. Scared. What was he going to do now? Looking around you searched to see if you had done everything he’d told you to do, at first you’d fought his orders. Appalled that he thought he could boss you around, that was before he beat you. Now, you obeyed every order. You’d lost all fight.

Your eyes widened when it wasn’t Thune and rather a face you never thought you’d see again. “Bellamy…” You whispered, trying to see if you were dreaming or if he was really there.

“Y/N… what did he do to you…” He whispered, his eyes taking in your weakened state. Suddenly you became ashamed and you hugged yourself, you never wanted Bellamy to see you in such a pathetic state, he always told you how amazing you were at fighting and staying strong, and now…

“I-I’m sorry…” You choked out.

He was about to reply before footsteps echoed and you snapped up. No. If Thune saw him you didn’t know what would happen. You shot up, running to Bellamy and grabbing his arm. “You need to go. You need to hide.”

“Y/N…”

You ignored his voice, in a fit of panic you looked around. There was no where! “He’ll hurt you. He’ll hurt me!” You cried, scared.

“Girl.” Thune’s voice cut your panic and you snapped your head to behind Bellamy, seeing your worse nightmare standing there with a angry look on his face. You began to shake, stepping back. You crouched, covering yourself, “please..”

You closed your eyes, waiting for the hit before a thump echoed and you looked up, expecting to see Bellamy on the ground only to see Bellamy standing over top of Thune. “Y/N… we need to go.” He went over to reach you and you flinched back, he stared worriedly before kneeling down and staring at you with his soft caring eyes. You could get lost in them, and finally you felt a tiny bit safe.

“I won’t hurt you. You can trust me.” Bellamy whispered, staring at your eyes. With a slow hand, you let your hand fall in his much larger one, letting him pull you up.

“We need to get you out.”

“What about the truce?” You asked, staring at the outside that you hadn’t seen in days.

“I’ll figure something out.”


You stood in the same room that you’d been standing in when you’d been wedded off. Tuck directly beside Bellamy as you stopped opposite of Thune. His face bruised because of Bellamy. Clarke stood next to you and Bellamy, Lexa in front of you all.

“What is the meaning of this?” Lexa’s voice cut in. “Thune, you first.” You flinched, cowering into Bellamy as tightened his grip around you, glaring daggers at Thune.

“Everything was going well, before that Skai person disobeyed the rules of our truce. He took the girl… Y/N, claiming i beat her.” Lexa let her eyes fall on you, watching as you flinched.

“Clarke.” Lexa ordered.

“Y/N has been beaten since the day we signed our truce because of Thune. Bellamy only just saved her, before he brought her to be.” Clarke keep her eyes on Thune as she spoke, then her voice became soft and she looked to Lexa. “Lexa, she has multiple bruises over her body.”

“That is a lie!” Thune yelled, outrage. Lexa held her hand out to him, looking at you. 

“Show me the marks.” You gasped, looking up at Bellamy before he nodded at you, reassuringly. You carefully stepped out from his embrace, raising your shirt to show blue, purple and almost black bruises all over your skin. As well as cuts that marred, cuts that would without a doubt scar.

“My god…” Lexa whispered, her eyes outraged as she looked over your body. You shivered at the cold, before she nodded and you let your shirt fall.

“I promised you safety in my home, Y/N.” She spoke, her eyes falling on Thune. He stared back defiantly at her. “This is a direct betrayal of out truce, Thune, and I can not let it continue.”

You sighed, turning to Bellamy who hugged you and smiled. “I told you I would keep you safe.” He kissed you on the forehead and you finally felt safe again. 

“You are allowed to return home, Y/N and the truce is still in effect.” Lexa reassured Clarke and you let a breath of relief. Happy you hadn’t ruined what you needed most.

“What about Thune?” Bellamy asked angrily, his eyes dark and narrowed towards Thune.

“He is sentenced to death by a thousand hits… by Y/N.”


Light The Way - Volga/Link [Volink, NSFW]

Okay but Link and Volga getting trapped somewhere like a cave or something, and Link having to cuddle up next to Volga because he’s so warm (or like hatesex in the cavern because they blame each other for getting trapped, that works too).

vavman
ruebird

Smut is so difficult to write. It wants plot.

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Imagine your OTP #3

Person A and Person B are in a prank war with each other. First, the pranks start innocent and cute, post-it notes on their back, popping balloons right behind them. Then it escalated to chicken boullioun cubes in the shower head, toothpaste in the Oreos, salt instead of sugar in their coffee. Finally, the pranks are getting out of hand.
Person A has resorted to staying in a hotel room, paranoid. Person B stocks up on food and locks themself in their room. Both are convinced one is going to prank them amd they end up staying locked up for a whole week. The entire time, they text each other, convinced one of them is just outside the door though they say they are hiding. They dare not send a picture for fearing they might give away their position.
Finally, Person A and B give up and walk out the door. A bucket of water set up a week ago at the front door soaks them both as they shake hands for a truce. Neither are convinced the war is over.

godaime-obito  asked:

Soulmate AU 10 for Kagami x Tobirama, pls?

Tobirama knows from the beginning that he won’t meet his soulmate for a very long time. The number on his forearm is high, in the distant future. Not a childhood meeting for him, not like Mito and Hashirama’s (though, to be fair, they both share a third timer that’s several years beyond the first). Not a teenage love, like Touka is destined for. And that’s all right with him, because it means his soulmate survives. He’s calculated the time, written it out on paper in the middle of the night when no one will see, and he’ll be twenty-six when they finally come together. 

Twenty-six seems like an impossible age for a shinobi, right up until the very moment he reaches it. 

It’s the year their truce with the Uchiha is formalized. Butsuma and Tajima are dead, killed each other months ago, and between Touka and Izuna and Hashirama and Madara and Mito, and several other matches denied until now, the treaties come together easily. A date is set, welcomes are prepared, and peace is no longer a dream, but a possibility. 

Tobirama, however, watches the numbers on his timer fall away, calculates exactly when it is they’ll stop, and knows it can’t be coincidence that the final zero will come on the day of the meeting. 

Deep in the midst of the Nara Clan’s compound, surrounded by Uchiha and Senju alike, with only minutes left on his times as it counts down, Tobirama can’t help but keep his eyes on the shifting numbers rather than his surroundings. The fall away, slide down towards single digits faster than he had imagined they could, and even though he should be keeping pace with his brother, paying attention to the politics, all he can hear is the pounding of his own heart. 

He takes a step, shifting sideways out of Touka’s path - 

The numbers drop, 6 5 4 3 - 

A shoulder slams into his. 

Zero.

He looks up to meet wide black eyes, the beginnings of a blush. It’s a boy, an Uchiha boy, probably only seventeen, with wild dark hair and a handsome face. 

I - oh,” the boy says. “Oh gods, you’re my soulmate? You’re so hot. Just- so hot. I must have been the most pious priest ever in another life. Or a martyr. Yay, congratulations me.”

Tobirama blinks at him, entirely speechless in the face of that flood of words. “Hello?” he attempts in response.

The Uchiha glances down at his bare arm, then up again, and grimaces. “Please tell me your counter just hit zero,” he says, almost plaintive. “If it didn’t, I am going to attempt a Doton jutsu even though I’m terrible at them and try to sink into the ground. Permanently.”

Tobirama can’t help it. He snorts, taking half a step back, and holds out his arm to show the neat row of zeroes already starting to fade to white. 

“Please don’t,” he says, and allows himself the faint tug of a smile. “I would hate to have to dig you back out.” A pause, committing the boy’s features and chakra signature to memory, and he adds, “I’m Senju Tobirama.”

“I know,” the boy blurts, then looks like he wants to smack himself. “Uh. I mean I’m Kagami. Uchiha Kagami. It’s - I was going to say nice to meet you but I don’t think that even comes close to covering it.”

“Not, it rather doesn’t,” Tobirama agrees, and it feels like his soul is lightening, like a warmth that reaches through him. Like family, like potential. He looks at Kagami for a moment, and Kagami looks back, and - 

“Oh, just shut up and kiss already,” Touka says from behind him, somewhere between annoyed and amused. Then, because she lives to make Tobirama’s life far harder than it should be, she ducks away from his attempted grab and cries gleefully, “Hashirama! Mito! Guess who found his soulmate~

Kagami laughs, startled and bright, and Tobirama can’t quite fight a smile even as he rolls his eyes, turning back. “Unfortunately,” he says dryly, “a whole host of idiots are part of the package.”

Kagami grins at him, and he’s beautiful. “That’s okay,” he says cheerfully. “I’m sure the package is pretty nice - um. That - that was not meant to sound like an innuendo. Oh gods. Can I go back to the Doton jutsu plan  now?”

Tobirama laughs, and thinks that if this is his soulmate, he’s well worth all the years of waiting. 

What You Can’t Finish

Requested by anonymous: Can you do an imagine where the reader and Daryl were best friends before the apocalypse, and they reunite at the Hilltop colony?

What You Can’t Finish

“Paul Rovia. But my friends call me Jesus.” He extended his hand to help me stand back up, a big smile on his face. “We have a camp. Not far from here. The Hilltop Colony. You’ll be safe there, and there’s lots of other people.”

You look this guy up and down; skeptical. “Let me get this straight,” You raise your gun again, “You come out of nowhere, knock me on my ass, and then expect me to just go with you to who knows where?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

You considered it briefly. It wasn’t like you had many options. You reached out and shook his hand. “I’m going to call you Paul, though. ‘Jesus’ is too sacrilegious for me. I was raised Catholic.”

——-

“You comin or not?” Daryl yelled from outside.

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch, Dixon!” You yell back, trying to pull your boot on and walk down the front steps at the same time.

“Keep talkin like that and ya can’t have none of this.” He dangled a six pack of beer in front of your face.

“I’ll talk however I want, and I’ll still get beer.” You playfully jabbed him in the ribs and stole the six-pack while he was distracted. “See?”

“Yer dead!” He smiled and lunged forward.

“Don’t start fights you can’t finish, Dixon!” You yell, running off into the woods.

The dream ended there. You were suddenly awake, lying in your bed, listening to the sounds of the early morning at Hilltop. There was someone knocking on your door, and you groaned and turned over, willing the memory to come back.

The knocking was still there. “What?” You groaned.

“You’re supposed to help me milk the cows this morning. Remember?”

Shit. It was Fran. You hated working with her. She never shut up. You never missed Daryl Dixon’s stony silence more than when you had to do a chore with Fran. “Yeah, I’m coming. Just give me a minute.” You roll out of bed, shaking the cobwebs from your head, and began to get dressed.

You ran through the woods at full speed and finally crashed right into the creek. Daryl was right behind you, not missing a beat as he barreled through the cold water right at you.

You yell out as he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder. “Truce!” You’re afraid he’s going to drop you in the water, but he sets you down instead.

Daryl swiped the beer out of your hands. “Don’t start fights you can’t finish.” He pulled a can off the plastic carrier as you both sloshed your way to dry land. You found a sunny spot in a clearing and collapsed into the grass, opening the can with a ‘hiss’.

You follow Fran into the makeshift barn where the cows were kept. Sighing, you pick up a few pails and the broken one you use as a milking stool. Fran started going on about who knows what. You never knew what that woman was talking about; it’s like she forgot there’s an apocalypse and still thinks there’s celebrity gossip worthy of chatting about. It’s as if all the celebrities weren’t dead in her mind.

“You’ll miss me when I go away in the fall.” You said, breaking the comfortable silence between the two of you as you lay in the clearing sunning yourselves.

“Yeah.” You expected him to deny it, so this clear admission of thoughts and inner feelings shocked you a bit. “Won’t be the same round here.”

“You’ll just have Merle to hang out with.”

“Don’t remind me.” Daryl slung a scrawny arm over his face.

You reached down and took his other hand in yours. “You could come with me?”

Daryl just shook his head. “I’d never get into a fancy college like you.”

“You could just move to the city with me. I hear Atlanta’s nice. And you could open a mechanic shop or sumthin.”

“Nah.” He lolled his head to the side to look at you. “Merle and me are gonna figure sumthin out.” It was quiet for a bit. “Just don’t forget bout me when you make new friends and have bigger adventures.”

“I could never forget about you, Daryl.”

“Y/N!” You snap out of it when you hear Fran yelling at you.

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been saying your name for quite a while now. Where’d you go just now?”

You shrug. “Nowhere.”

“Hey, guys. Jesus is back.” Scott came around the corner and into the barn. “He got back about an hour ago. I don’t think he brought supplies, though. But he did bring a lot of people.”

“Should we check it out?” You ask, brushing your hands on your jeans and standing.

“Go without me.” Fran said, moving milk pails away from the cows. “I’m not too keen on meeting new people. Not after Negan’s group.”

You shrug. “Suit yourself.” You wandered over to the main house, waving to Hilltop people that called out ‘good mornings’, just to be polite.

“I don’t leave for another few weeks.” You say, upset and sad and angry.

Daryl shrugged. “But you’re leavin. What’s the difference between us sayin good-bye now or then?”

“The difference is that you’re cuttin our time short!”

“I told ya. Merle thinks he found us some work or sumthin. So, we’re heading a little further south. He wants to go now.”

“You can’t.”

Finally, you get to the old mansion and pull open one of the doors. “Hey, Paul,” You call out as you go inside, “I heard you brought people instead of my toothpaste!”

The group was right inside the door when you stepped in. They were all staring at you, hair dripping from the forced shower Gregory probably made them take. “Oh, hi.” You wave.

There was a beat of silence. “Hi.” The red-haired man was the only one that spoke.

“I’m Y/N.” You shift your weight awkwardly. “Welcome to Hilltop.”

“We’re not staying.” The one with a full brown beard said roughly.

“Well, whether you’re staying or not, wel—“ You broke off mid-sentence as movement caught your eye from the top of the staircase. “Oh my god.” You practically screamed.

The look of shock and relief on your face probably looked more like “terror”, and the group probably expected to see a walker on the stairs when they turned around to follow your line of sight. But, instead of a walker, they only saw Daryl Dixon rooted to his spot on the staircase, the same look of shock and relief playing on his features. The air seemed to be sucked out of the room and for a beat, no one moved.

Then, Daryl was flying down the staircase at top speed as your knees gave out and you started to cry. He caught you and enveloped you in the same hug he’d given you after your boyfriend cheated on you. “I thought you were dead.” He said, quietly. “Merle and I went to your house after the outbreak, but it was trashed.”

You nod. “I left in a hurry. I wanted to try to find you.”

He let go of you finally, and wiped the tears from your cheeks. “Don’t go cryin on me now, girl.” You both started to laugh.

“You know her?” A woman with brown hair asked, and you were both suddenly conscious of the fact that there were other people in the room.

“Yeah. This is Y/N. We’ve been friends since we were little.” Daryl clapped his hand on your back a little harder than he probably meant to.

You looked him up and down and said, “Yeah, and it looks like not much changed since then. You’re still a punk.” You smirked at him, digging into his side with your pointer finger.

“Don’t start nuthin’ ya can’t finish.” He laughed, picked you up, and slung you over his shoulder. “I’m still stronger than ya.”

“Truce!” You call out, just like old times, and it gets you set back on the ground. Everyone in the group was gaping at you two. “Why are they staring at us like that?” I ask.

“We’ve just never seen this side of Daryl before.” The man with the beard said.

“I can be fun, Rick.” Daryl said, trying to frown.

“Damn near playful even,” The red-headed man mumbled in surprise.

“Oh, have I got stories for you, then.” You nudge Daryl. “Dixon the Younger here was the most fun person I hung out with when I was little.”

“Those are stories I want to hear.” The brunette woman said.

“Ya ain’t gonna hear shit.” Daryl said as threateningly as possible.

“Tell you what.” You address Rick. “You let me come back to live in your camp with you guys, and I’ll tell you any stories you want to hear.”

Rick shifted his weight, and almost smiled a bit. “How many walkers have you killed?”

“Too many to keep track.”

“How many people have you killed?”

“Two.”

“Why?”

“They tried to hurt me.”

There was a pause, before Rick nodded and said, “Welcome to the group, Y/N.”

“You can’t.” You repeated again. Then, you stepped forward and placed a soft kiss on his lips. “I love you.”

There was only sadness in his eyes as Daryl said, “Don’t start what ya can’t finish.”

You leaned your head on your best friend and the only man you’ve ever truly loved. “I won’t start what I can’t finish.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around his.

He nodded knowingly. “Me neither.”

—–

I do requests! Just send me an ask!

UPDATE: There is a parts 2 and 3, and an epilogue to this fic. You can read them here:

Part 2: http://poetanddidntknowit34.tumblr.com/post/141525235390/what-you-cant-finish-pt-2

Part 3: http://poetanddidntknowit34.tumblr.com/post/141553798040/what-you-cant-finish-pt-3

Epilogue: http://poetanddidntknowit34.tumblr.com/post/141612317505/what-you-cant-finish-epilogue

anonymous asked:

Imagine instead of bringing the team to the farm Clint brings them to the apartment building where he's the landlord and they meet Lucky and Kate (who Tony says is too young for Clint) and they got to the roof with the other tenants and basically the same idea as the farm scene but at the apartment building

Bed-Stuy?  You’re super secret safe house is in Bed-Stuy?”

Clint ignored Stark’s incredulous yelps as he brought the quinjet in for a landing.  The jet’s stealth mode meant that they could safely land on the apartment’s roof without being tracked.  The jet fit easily into a corner near the generator he’d had installed last year; cover it with a tarp and it’d blend in just fine, so even eyes from the sky wouldn’t be able to tell it was there.  And there’d still be plenty of room for a barbeque tonight, besides.

“I’m just saying,” Tony said as they disembarked.  “The Tower is right over there.  Why don’t we just–”

“Head to the first place Ultron will think to look for us?” Clint asked as he helped Natasha toward the stairwell.  He didn’t like how much she was shaking.  He was gonna kill that Sokovian witch.  “No one knows about this building, Stark.  Not even Shield.  We’ll be safe here.”

“Will we?” Cap asked.  He gestured to the quinjet, which he and Thor had just finished covering.  “There are civilians all over the place here, Barton.  That’s a massive security risk.”

“No one here will tell anyone,” Clint assured him.  “They know me, they know who I am.  They’re good people.  They can keep a secret.”

“And what about when one of them complains to their landlord about the jet parked on their roof?” Stark snapped.

“You don’t need to worry about him either,” Clint said.  “He’s me.”

That stunned them into silence.  Clint explained as he led them downstairs to his apartment.  “Most of this neighborhood was destroyed during the Chitauri attack.  This building was still standing, but the landlord was part of some sort of mob business.”  With awful fashion sense, he added mentally.  “They tried to drive the tenants out in order to cash in all the land deals springing up from the the federal rebuilding money.  I bought the building to keep the tenants from losing even more of their home.  Seemed the least I could do.”

It hadn’t ended there, of course.  It’d been a long three years since the Battle of New York, trying to protect his people from those tracksuit animals.  Things had actually gotten better after Shield fell; after all, Nick Fury had ended up needing a safe house, too.

He didn’t mention that last bit to the others.  They’d find out soon enough.

They reached his apartment, and he unlocked the door and swung it open, keeping one arm around Nat, and jokingly calling out, “Honey, I’m home!”

Lucky immediately started barking and rushed over to greet him, tail wagging furiously.  Clint squeezed Nat’s shoulders and then dropped down to his knees so the dog could wash his face.  Damn, but it was good to be home.

“Make yourselves at home,” he said over his shoulder.  “Dinner’s in a few hours.  I’ll go let Grills know to expect a few extra tonight.”

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Queens consort of England - Berengaria of Navarre

Berengaria of Navarre was born circa 1165 the eldest daughter of Sancho VI ‘the Wise’ King of Navarre and Sancha of Castile. She had 3 brothers, Sancho (the future King Sancho VII of Navarre), Ferdinand and Ramiro, Bishop of Pamplona and two sisters Constance and Blanche of Navarre, who married Count Theobald III of Champagne.

Berengaria was described as having dark hair and eyes, “petite, and a fine musician… in all things, a suitable consort for a king”. Ambroise, a contemporary Norman minstrel, described her as “elegant and prudent”.

Richard I of England 'the Lionheart’ had been betrothed since infancy to Alys of France, the sister of King Phillip Augustus. However, Richard’s father, King Henry II, had made Alys his mistress, and Richard was therefore reluctant to marry her. Gossip claimed Alys to have even borne the late King’s child.

Richard’s mother, Eleanor of Aquitaine, the Dowager Queen of England selected Berengaria as a future wife for her son. A marriage with Berengaria was desirable as it would bring a dowry that would aid Richard finance in the Third Crusade and would provide protection for the southern borders of Aquitaine. Richard was a great friend of her brother, Sancho, Berengaria had met Richard only once prior to their espousal, at a tournament at Pamplona held by her father.

The indomitable Eleanor of Aquitaine, then aged 70, traveled over the Pyrenees to collect Berengaria and escort her to Sicily where they were due to rendezvous with Richard. On reaching Sicily they were joined by Richard’s sister, Joanna, the Dowager Queen of Sicily. They were expecting to meet up with Richard in Messina, but he had already continued on his journey for the Holy Land. Berengaria and Eleanor had arrived at Sicily during Lent, and so the marriage could not take place until after Easter.

The voyage to the Holy Land continued, but the ship carrying Berengaria and Joanna was shipwrecked on the coast of Cyprus in the course of a violent storm. The Cyprians besieged the English survivors of the wreck at Limasoll. A large ammount of treasure, intended for use on the crusade, was appropriated by Isaac Comnenus, the Emperor of Cyprus. Richard dispatched a letter to Isaac, which was arrogantly ignored. Outraged, he unleashed the full force of the famed Plantagenet fury on the unfortunate Isaac. The Cyprian Emperor was overthrown and English governors were set up over the island which was used as a garrison for the crusade.

Berengaria and Richard were married on May 12, 1191, at the Chapel of St George at Limassol on Cyprus, she was crowned Queen of England the same day by the Archbishop of Bordeaux and Bishops of Évreux and Bayonne. She travelled on to Acre in Palestine with Richard and accompanied him for the first part of the crusade. When Richard finally agreed a truce with his enemy, Saladin, Berengaria left the Holy Land for Poitou in France, Richard was taken prisoner on his way back to Europe in 1192 by Duke Leopold of Austria, whom Richard had insulted gravely in the early stages of the crusade and was held prisoner in Germany until 1194, when his mother Eleanor arranged for his ransom.

The marriage of Berengaria and Richard produced no children, Richard proved to be an indifferent husband, more interested in his warfare than his wife. He was rumoured to have been homosexual, and though he did have at least one illegitimate child, Philip of Cognac. On his release he made no effort to send for Berengaria, and a priest is said to have ordered him to reconcile with his wife. Richard was ordered by Pope Celestine III to reunite with Berengaria and to show fidelity to her in the future.

When he fell ill and thought death was near, Richard vowed that if he recovered he would never leave his wife again. He did recover, and true to his vow, he went to Poitou and became reconciled with Berengaria. An entry in the Polychronicon records- “The King took to him his Queen Berengaria, whose society he had for a long time neglected, though she were a royal, eloquent, and beauteous lady, and for his love had ventured with him through the world.” He granted her the revenues arising from mines in Cornwall and Devonshire as her dower. The couple’s reconciliation was short lived however and Richard, despairing of heirs by his queen, eventually named his younger brother John as heir to England.

Richard the Lionheart died on 6th April, 1199 at Chalus in Limoges, from a crossbow bolt wound infected by gangrene. His mother was by his bedside at the end. His neglected wife was not even summoned, but she was reported to be greatly distressed at his death.

Berengaria although Dowager Queen had never seen England, she never remarried and lived on at Le Mans in Maine, one of her dower properties. Richard’s succesor, his younger brother King John, seized much of her property and failed to pay her pension. She sent envoys to complain and Eleanor of Aquitaine and the Pope, Innocent III, both intervened. The Pope threatened John with an interdict if he did not pay, but he never paid most of what was owed to her, at his death he still owed Berengaria more than £4000. John’s son, King Henry III, finally did pay much of what she was owed.

She founded the abbey of L'Épau on the outskirts of Le Mans in 1229 and entered the convent there. Berengaria died on 23 December 1230, before the Abbey was finished and was buried there according to her wishes. Her tomb monument has been moved many times over the proceeding centuries and doubt remains over the exact location of her burial. A skeleton of a woman who died in her sixties, which thought to be hers, was uncovered by Pierre Térouanne in 1960 during the restoration of the abbey. These remains are preserved beneath the stone effigy of the queen, which is now in the chapter house of the abbey