War Orphan, PROLOGUE, KING STEVE & DEAF THEIF LITTLE SISTER OFC
CHAPTER WARNING: mention of death (nothing graphic) mentions of infidelity (nothing graphic) mentions of a child born out of wedlock
A NOTE FROM THE AUTHORESS:
Hey there everyone! This is yet another little writing project that I had abandoned in the past. It is heavily inspired by Pseudo Princess ( post/187958720583/pseudo-princess-masterpost-photo-credit-1tony), a MCU royalty AU as brilliantly imagined and written by shreddedparchment. So please do give them some love!
Steven Grant Rogers, the newly minted king of Brooklyn, only felt rage- pure, unbridled, raw rage as he stared down at the small chest that he had found while in his late father's study. It had been hidden underneath a floorboard, and the curious young man could not help himself and opened it, revealing letters, a rendering of a young girl, withered flowers and a feather from some unknown bird.
The dread and anger only grew more pronounced as he read though each letter- professing a certain never ending love to the stoic ruler, talking about secret meetings, thanks for gifts in the form of a small house, goats and books…
And the king's illegitimate daughter, a fiery tempered girl with her father's brilliant red curls and freckles and her mother's petite build and sense of wild adventure.
Johanna.
She is so beautiful, read one such letter to the king. She thanks you for the new set of quills, ink pot and bottle of ink that you sent her for her birthday last month. I swear, her fingers are now permanently stained with ink, and she is set on writing a book and publishing it when she is of an older age.
Steve gritted his teeth, anger painfully clenching at his heart.
"How could you do this to mom?" he muttered angrily. "I thought you loved her- why would you do this to her?"
He collapsed into the grand throne like chair that stood neck to his father's desk, overwhelmed at the other side to the king that he had grown up calling father. He rifled through the letters, unsure of what he was looking for. He plucked a random envelope and opened it to find shaky penmanship.
Johanna has been asking questions about you- about her father… what should I tell her? That her father is of noble blood, a member of the royal family, the ruler of this kingdom… read one of the letters that had been addressed to the late king.
And just like that, the letters ended.
The letters ended three years ago, right around the time of the Great Grass Sickness, and Steve knew without a doubt that his father's springtime fling had died during the plague.
"Johanna…" murmured Steve, closing his eyes and taking a deep shuddering breath of air, trying to calm his temper as he did the math in his head a few times, realizing that Johanna would be around eighteen years of age now, not even ten years younger than he was.
A slip of parchment, folded into quarters, fell out of the bundle, Steve managing to intercept it before it could land. He opened it and smiled at the sketching of a child- Johanna, as he took the main focus of the rendering to be.
He squinted, bringing the sketching up closer so that he could peer at the careful charcoal markings. She looked to be around ten or eleven years old, with long curls that caped out behind her as she stood in a field of flowers with a brisk wind whistling through her loose curls and making her kirtle flutter around her ankles. She wore a straw hat to protect her face and the back of her neck from the cheerful sun, and was holding onto her headwear with a single hand while laugher danced across her face. Her other hand clutched at a gathering of bright blooms and her feet were bare of shoes or stockings. The careful charcoal markings showcased perfectly deep dimples imprinted in her chubby cheeks. But what really caught his attention, was a purple and red stain that covered the left side of her face. He recognized it almost immediately- it was a birthmark that popped up every few generations in the royal lineage. Steve had the same marking, only it spanned the entirety of his left shoulder.
Something was stirring inside of Steve's chest- an unfamiliar feeling that he couldn't quite put a name to.
I have a little sister, he realized, a small smile growing on his face. I have a little sister.
A little sister.
"Steve?"
He looked up from the letters to see his wife, Duchess Margaret Carter, with one hand cupping her swollen stomach. She smiled softly at him as she waddled her way across to him. He reached out blindly, clasping one of her hands in his as she ran her fingers through his blond locks.
"What is troubling you?" she murmured softly, coming to stand in between his legs, one hand on his shoulder for balance.
"Dad had an affair," he blurted out. "And I have a sister- well, a half-sister."
"Oh, Stevie," she sighed, hugging his head close to her chest.
"I don't wanna be like him," he mumbled from in between her bosom, pulp with motherly milk. "I'm not gonna raise taxes, or imprison innocent civilians. None of that. He was my father, but he wasn't the father I strive to be one day. And in order to achieve that, some things need to change- starting with Johanna."