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September is for Stark

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Steve heard Tony’s soft hitching breaths before he saw Tony’s slender form, and walked over the gravel to stand beside Tony. “I thought you might be here,” he said, voice low and scraping across the gravel they stood on. 

“I don’t know where else I would be,” Tony said softly. “It’s our wedding peak, Steve.” 

“Tony,” Steve started softly, just to be cut off.

“We just got married, Steve.” Tony turned to look at him and Steve was horrified to see tears glittering in his eyes, reflecting proof of the grey eyed one’s blessing, even as they shone with sadness. “We just got married. I’m not with child, thank Zeus for that, and you are about to go off to fight someone else’s war in someone else’s land for someone else’s wife.”

Steve tucked Tony into his side. “I have to go,” he said softly after a moment’s silence. “If someone took you, I would tear the world apart to get you back,” and despite where the Fates had cruelly let them land he cracked a smile at the way Tony’s head ducked as a blush traveled up his neck and down the neckline of his dress at the affirmation of his love. “It’s only fair I extend the same courtesy.”

Tony shuddered at the statement, a fire lighting inside him. “You can’t go,” Tony said fiercely, clutching the fabric of Steve’s tunic. “I won’t let you.”

Steve’s face was gentle and kind, even as he looked like he was one gust away from being torn apart. “Tony,” he said softly, and Tony choked on a sob. 

“No,” Tony moaned. “You have to stay, you have to stay with me ,” and maybe it was selfish, but Tony was alright with being selfish if it kept Steve safe and loved by his side.

Steve tugged Tony into his chest, taking a deep inhale of the oil Tony used every day and his born scent of smoke and rain. “I’ll come back, love,” he murmured. “I’ll come back and we can spend the whole week in our bed in Phthia until there’s no way you’re not pregnant, and we’ll live there, as king and queen or as pilgrims in the middle of the forest, I don’t care, and our little pup will be loved and cherished.”

Tony sniffed and grabbed a fistful of Steve’s tunic. “Heroes never come back,” he said, soft enough that Steve wasn’t sure if Tony was talking to him. “Heroes don’t get happy endings. Hercules, Jason, Achilles, they all died,” Tony looked up with ready eyes. “They don’t get a happy wife and a home, they get killed in some foreign land, fighting someone else’s war, or some god decides that they've done too much and they die of madness or bloodlust.”

Steve did his best to smile. “Well, I’ll be the first,” he said earnestly. “I’ll come back, sweetheart. After all,” he leaned down to scent Tony. “I’ve got plans.” 

Tony sobbed and pressed closer to Steve. 

Above the constellations swam as Artemis passed her course, the two clinging to one another as the sun rose.