I was looking through tumblr for writing prompts to use, because I need to be better about actually writing... and I found one that gave me this story. I don't really remember the original prompt at this point, though. I'm not sure if I am going to add more to this story, so I'm going to mark it as complete, but if people want more chapters, let me know! I hope you like this story!

-owl

The bell had struck midnight just as the queen's regiment poured into the capital city. The squad she was personally commanding carried her into the castle and to the royal physician's chambers. Barely ten minutes after the queen had been laid in a cot and the physician had been roused, the king raced into the room.

The four months leading up to this incident had seen Queen Ziva of DiNozzo leading her army against the army of the neighboring country, Investigatii. Even though King Fornell had claimed at the wedding that Investigatii's issues were with King Anthony I, and not DiNozzo as a whole, it had been only a year since then and they were at war. Meadth's army was on its way, being led by King Gibbs.

"What happened to her?" Tony asked the four soldiers who had carried his wife to the castle. His eyes were locked on Ziva, laying, unmoving, on the physician's cot as the physician worked to stop the bleeding.

The tallest stood straight to address his king. "We were outnumbered, not by a lot, but enough that it was an issue. The Queen was in a bout with two of the enemies, she was winning, then the sky started raining arrows." The soldier stopped speaking abruptly, starting to shake slightly.

Tony turned to look at the men, nodding his head in a manner that was clearly an order for someone to finish the story.

The shortest pulled the tallest away, and out of the room. Then, of the three soldiers left, one of them took off his helmet and continued. "Investigatii had archers hiding out of sight, we didn't think to look for them. Queen Ziva was hit by one, straight through her palm. The moment she was distracted, the two she was fighting against gained the upper hand and, well, this happened," he finished lamely.

Tony could not even form a complete thought before there was the sound of a hacking cough from behind him. He whipped around to see Ziva leaning over the edge of the cot and coughing up blood. After a minute, she laid back in the bed,as she did she caught Tony's eye.

"You five," Tony commanded, gaining their attention, "I want you all to return to the battlefield, check in with Sir McGee, and give him this." As Tony finished, he pulled out a letter he had been meaning to send to Tim and Ziva on the front lines.

The soldiers nodded, and the tallest took the letter from Tony before they all left the room. The physician followed them, adding that Ziva would be fine for a while, and that he would be back soon.

"What… was the… letter about?" Ziva asked, straining to speak through her pain.

Tony moved to sit on the end of the cot. Gently, he picked up her uninjured hand and kissed it tenderly. "I just got word that Gibbs and the Meadth army are on their way. I was going to send that out to you in the morning, but, well, this happened."

"I almost had them."

"What, Sweetcheeks?" he asked. In no way was her comment a response to his answer. "You almost had who?"

She drew her hand out of his and brushed her blood saturated hair out of her face. "I was winning. I was so close— if I had just gotten further—" She stopped and coughed — sans blood — before continuing. "I could see the commander of Investigatii's army, I could have finished it tonight."

She smiled, more of a grimace, really, and coughed again, falling into a restless sleep. Once she was asleep, her face smoothed out and the lines of pain disappeared.

Taking the chance to look at the wounds his wife had received, Tony grimaced. There was a days-old cut across her right arm, and one marring her cheek. A deeper wound was running down her left arm, a strip of linen covering it. A line of bruises spanned the distance between her shoulders.

Tony kissed her hand and moved from the end of the cot and onto the chair right next to it. "You did wonderfully, Sweetcheeks, I'm so proud of you."

Three days later Ziva had been deemed recovered enough to be moved from the cot in the physician's chambers to her and Tony's rooms. After the night she had been rushed to the castle, her coughing — while still a persistent issue — no longer contained blood. The cuts on her right arm and her face had faded into the beginnings of faint scars. Her left arm had scabbed over enough to not need to be covered. The bruises, though, were still fairly visible, an angry reminder of what had happened.

Tony had been sitting on their balcony with Ziva when the door to their rooms banged open and a blur of black skirts barreled into Ziva. Quickly, Tony grabbed Ziva so she didn't fall over.

"I'm so glad you're alright!" Abby exclaimed. "Tim sent me a letter from the front, saying you got hurt. I rushed here as soon as I could."

Abby had been at the manor house of the McGee family, with Tim's parents, while he was at war. It was only a day's ride from the castle, less if riding a fast horse. It would make sense that Tim would send her a letter that Ziva had gotten hurt.

Either way, Tony figured, it was probably a good thing that Abby was here to be with Ziva. He would be riding out that day to meet with Fornell about a possible truce. They were going to meet in a neutral area, a few miles to the west of the battle field.

"Ziva?" Tony asked, interrupting her and Abby's conversation. "I need to go if I want to make my meeting with Fornell. Will you be ok if I leave you here with Abby?"

Ziva bristled at his words. "I do not need to be left with a babysitter. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Tony."

Forgive me for worrying, Ziva. You did, after all, have a brush with death only a few days ago," Tony deadpanned as he left the room.