Summary: The annual Games were an antiquated and ridiculous way to find a suitor for the next royal in line for the throne. But being the victor wasn't enough to secure the Prince's hand in marriage. No, you had to be the victor for three years in a row to warrant the opportunity to ask and no one had managed it in almost 40 years.

"You do remember that this is about more than just winning a medal and an accolade," Danny frowned at Steven. "If you keep the title for three years its expected that you marry into the royal family. Me, specifically."

"I am aware of that," his face barely moved, he didn't give anything away. "I'll see you next year, you Highness."

Notes: Thanks to sardonicwolf for the beta :) Any mistakes that are still floating around are my own.

Well aware that I have another AU similar to this ongoing but this is the happier dumping ground for some of the scenarios in my head and it is technically different, lol.
There are 7 chapters, all written, all been to beta, I just need the time to go over each chapter. They'll all be posted in the next few days, shorter chapters will likely be published together.

Each chapter begins with one of the 31 Rules of Courtly Love, written by Andeas Capellanus in the 12th Century.

Originally published on ao3: October 2015


XIV. The easy attainment of love makes it of little value; difficulty of attainment makes it prized.

Daniel grabbed another drink from the tray as the server passed by. He had no time for evenings like this. He could deal with talking to ambassadors and keep up appearances, but he hated this particular evening. No actually he loathed it, with a passion. Other royal functions were fine, like the winter and summer solstice ball, or Grace's birthday ball. He didn't even mind the fancy clothes he adorned. But he couldn't stand this party. Mostly because it was about him.

It's not that Danny didn't like attention at times. Like anyone else, he was flattered by it; and having grown up in a royal household, he'd become used to the eyes on him when he was outside of the castle walls.

But the annual Games were an antiquated and ridiculous way to find a suitor for the next royal in line for the throne and this year (along with many that had passed and likely many more to come) that was him.

Knights came from far and wide to compete. There were five different events. The overall winner would meet and mingle at this fancy party and get to know the Royal family better. Being the victor wasn't enough to secure the Prince's hand in marriage though. No, you had to be the victor for three years in a row to warrant that opportunity to ask.

That triumph hadn't been accomplished in almost forty years - not since Sir Edward won and asked for Clara's hand and was readily accepted. It was expected that should a knight be strong, versatile and determined enough to keep winning, then they were considered perfectly suitable. If the Royals then refused, it negated the point of the entire Games, so it was an implied obligation that the royal being asked followed the tradition and accepted the offer of marriage.

Upon reaching his eighteenth year, Danny became the prize in these farces, taking over from his aunt (who had been the custodian of the crown should anything befall the Queen, that was, until Danny was old enough to be ruler). Sometimes he wished Matthew was the older brother, then that idiot could be the prize and Danny could stop worrying about it.

He'd spent many a party talking with victorious knights, all of whom had different reasons for taking part but at the end of the day, it only came down to three: wealth, power or love. Or a combination of those three. But then they would win and Danny would put them in their place. There was no true wealth to be won as spending was closely monitored in the royal household and in this kingdom, in this family, it was done for betterment of the whole kingdom, not just a greedy few. And there was no power to be won either. Though the eventual winner would marry into royalty, the power of the throne remained with the blood line. Clara was Queen, Eddie was merely her consort. Though at least one knight in the past remarked to Danny that even then, it beat living in a hovel and scrounging for food. Beating off bandits for a measly village reward. That Knight had not returned the next year. Killed by bandits, Danny later found out.

Then there was love. And that was one of their dreams more easily deflated. All they had to do was meet and talk with Danny for a while and they'd invariably go away unhappy. He wasn't sabotaging, well, not entirely. But he also wasn't going to beat around the bush. This was him, this was who he was, and love was a difficult thing to pin down. If they didn't like him when he was brusque, short-tempered and stubborn, then there was no point.

So even if they did return to compete for second, or even a few third year hopefuls, they never won. And Danny was saved from having to marry the idiots and could breathe a sigh of relief.

Not that he was 'unpracticed' in romance, love, sex. Marriage was one thing that would only happen for him should there be a winner, but he'd had plenty of dalliances. One of which, with Clara's young lady in waiting, had produced a child. Though having a daughter out of wedlock would perhaps have been frowned upon by some, the family were delighted, as it was unlikely a female knight would best the male champions and therefore any marriage would not wield an heir.

Grace was his life. He loved that little girl with every breath he had and despite her naive love of the Games (hoping her father would meet a dashing Knight who would sweep them both off their feet and love them forever) he wished only for them to end.

"Daniel," his mother walked up behind him. "You must talk to him. People are watching."

"Let them," Danny huffed out. He'd spent the Games watching with his usual disinterest, why should the after party be any different? "I don't care what they think. Besides, I don't like him."

"How do you know if you won't talk with him?"

"Because I know his type, Ma, okay? He's just a posturing, stuck up asshole who wants to lord it about the place. I bet you his reason for taking part was the power angle. Power and Glory. Nothing to do with me and I refuse to end up married to that kind of schmuck."

"Well, I thought he seemed like a very polite young man. He complimented my dress."

Danny wrinkled his nose. "Well, that makes all the difference. If his taste in fashion is impeccable, he must be the love of my life," the sarcasm dripped from his tongue and Queen Clara's shoulders slumped, giving up.

"Fine, hate him, see if I care. But talk to him properly at least once before you retire to bed?"

"Okay, Ma, okay," Danny grumbled, unable to deny his mother these requests. Especially when she gave him those eyes.

He downed the last of his drink and then snagged another as he approached the stoic man. Danny wasn't stupid, he could tell what the knight was doing, scoping out the room, most likely for possible threats. The Knight was a soldier through and through, and clearly never switched off. His impassive face and impressive stature was putting plenty of people off from speaking with him.

"Sir Steven," Danny greeted him as he approached his side. "Are you enjoying the evening? It is, after all, in your honor."

"Not just mine, your Highness," Steven responded.

"I should congratulate you. Again." Danny had already done so at the conclusion of the Games and the medal ceremony, but that was formal and in front of a crowd. They hadn't actually talked properly. "The events this year were tough."

Each year the five events were randomly selected from a choice of fifty, so the competitors could not concentrate their training efforts on one single event in order to win. The spontaneity of them kept everyone on their toes and the events were drawn the evening before, giving only a few hours of practice time for those competing.

Danny looked up at Steven, who shrugged at his words and it angered him that he could be so nonchalant about it; about the whole situation. The Games were serious to Danny. They dictated his future.

"What, you thought they were easy? Just some silly little tournament to take part in on a whim?"

"I took part because it was my father's dying wish that I try."

Danny took a moment. "I'm sorry for your loss. You fulfilled his wishes, you took part. And you proved something by winning, I guess. Does that mean you won't be back next year?"

"I haven't decided yet," Steven answered. "Maybe I got lucky with the choices of events this year. And there is something to be said about retaining a title."

"You do remember that this is about more than just winning a medal and an accolade," he frowned at Steven. "If you keep the title for three years its expected that you marry into the royal family. Me, specifically."

"I am aware of that," his face barely moved, he didn't give anything away.

Danny snorted in disgust. "Nice to see how much you care about the effects of your grand plans on anybody else. On me. On the rest of my family. On my daughter."

"You love her very much."

"I do. Of course I do. She is the light of my life and she lost her mother in childbirth so I am all she has. She is an angel who, get this, is ten years old and every year at this time she wishes only that I get to be happy. And I will not let some trumped up knight take that away from her."

Steven was giving Danny a strange look that was hard to decipher. "Like I said, I'm aware of the situation." He shuffled his feet, turning himself to look at Danny better. "You clearly have a lot of heart. And I've been watching and listening to you this evening. You greet all these diplomats and dignitaries in a way that makes them comfortable and you know exactly who they are and any treaties you have with their kingdoms like the back of your hand - that shows you're intelligent and take pride in your work as Crown Prince. You also clearly have physical strength. Your father is a knight of renown, I'm sure he taught you well. These are all qualities I admire in person."

"Well, thanks for the character deconstruction. Just so you know, I'm not fond of knights. I find them pompous and arrogant with really big heads and when they go blundering on into places they only make my life more difficult."

Steven let a smirk escape his lips but tempered it quickly. He took a breath, his chest puffing up. "I think I will compete again next year."

"You… what?" Danny craned his neck forward, thinking he must have misheard. "I thought you already said you wouldn't. The whole 'dying wish' thing was fulfilled. Time for you to move on to something more challenging…"

"I dunno," Steven seemed almost wistful, enjoying himself as Danny sputtered. "These Games hold a certain appeal."

Danny held up a finger between them, planning to tell Steven just how much he didn't like hearing that, but instead he couldn't come up with anything that could put a nail in the coffin and instead just waved it off, took a step back and walked away.

"I'll see you next year, Your Highness."

"Whatever," Danny muttered as he headed off, intent on letting his anger fall to the side as he tucked Grace into bed and then slept comfortably in his own.