Summary: a royalty AU in which Peter leaves for a week, Beck stages a military coup, and Michelle is pissed.

It happened on the second day after Peter left on a diplomatic trip to upper New York.

He'd left before. It wasn't the first time Michelle was left alone to handle the daily ins and outs of running half of a country. Even when Peter was there, she all but ruled over the parliament on her own. They hadn't anticipated anything different this time.

They had been wrong―so incredibly wrong.

With her arms pinned tightly behind her back, all Michelle could do was scowl at Beck as he ordered her to be locked away and took control of parliament.

"I have matters to attend to," Beck crooned, trailing his fingers across her jaw.

Michelle recoiled, moving out of his reach only to be shoved roughly by the rogue guard that was holding her too tightly.

"Get her out of here," Beck ordered. He turned to her parliament and Michelle was all too aware of the many wide eyes that followed her out the door.

Their people were loyal. They always had been and Michelle was willing to bet they still were. Whatever Beck had orchestrated, she doubted the rest of the country was in on it save for the rogues that he'd dragged into parliament to detain her.

Her suspicions were confirmed when, upon exiting the parliament building, the rogues that were holding her tightly crowded closer and blocked her from view. She was ushered roughly into a carriage and with a none too gentle shove into the seat. The curtains were drawn and daggers were leveled as the door closed behind her.

Beck had already taken the palace. The gate was drawn and unrecognizable faces patrolled the halls as she was pulled from the carriage.

"Let me go," she hissed, pulling free of the guards as they held her arms bruisingly.

She didn't run, but they jumped at her as if she had. Groping hands reached for her arms and held tighter still, escorting her through the palace halls as if she weren't familiar with her own home. She didn't pull away from them again.

Beck's rogues were everywhere. They roamed the halls, eyed her and snickered, and by the time she was shoved into her quarters, she knew they had infested the palace. It had been only a handful of hours since she'd left that morning for parliament, but Beck had moved in and settled his soldiers.

This wasn't done in the spur of the moment, she realized. Beck had planned for it.

The door was locked, the click of the key letting Michelle know she wouldn't be leaving anytime soon.

Not until Beck has the parliament, she thought bitterly. He wasn't one to leave ends untied and until the parliament was in his hands, he'd stay there.

The difficulty with a coup, Michelle knew, was that there was no way to know who was on whose side. Beck had filled the palace with his own soldiers, but what had happened to hers?

Many of them had accompanied Peter upstate, but the vast majority of them had been milling in the stables when she left that morning.

Had they all turned?

No, that was unlikely. She would have noticed something that big. Something else had to have happened. Beck had a silver tongue and as she held all the power when Peter was out of the country, he wouldn't have been able to mobilize all her men without her knowledge.

With that being said, something had to have happened and Michelle was eager to find out how and why, if only to prevent it from happening again. She half expected Beck to come and flaunt his success and was surprised when he didn't show up for hours. From what little she knew about Beck, he didn't seem like the type to lock her in her room and leave her alone.

Perhaps it's a mind game.

She got her answer when, hours after sundown, her door unlocked and Beck stepped into her quarters.

"Have you gone mad yet, Michelle?" he taunted, tilting his head in mock curiosity. The absence of her title didn't go unnoticed. "Have you figured me out?"

Michelle didn't give him an answer.

"Oh, this is killing you."

He chuckled and Michelle shifted her attention off of him.

With a hum, he slowly crossed the room as he echoed her thoughts aloud, "Where are your soldiers? How did you not see this coming?" Coming to a stop in front of her, he murmured, "What do I want?"

Michelle ignored his taunting and even as his hot breath hit her face, she didn't flinch.

"Not even you can sustain this," she told him. "Coups are only as strong as the dissent that leads them. You, Beck, are not a people person."

Beck raised a curious eyebrow.

"'Not a people person'?" he echoed. "My dear, I don't have to be. I have the parliament in my hands."

Internally, Michelle cursed. She'd handpicked the members of the parliament with Peter passing the final approval. No one in the parliament would have been bought out or intimidated into submission, which left Michelle to either call his bluff and risk being wrong or consider the possibility that he'd used something other than wealth and threats to win them over.

"Their frantic loyalty to you is just as exploitable as anger." His hand reached towards her and Michelle took a swift step back. Beck remained undeterred. "Your husband will receive the same warning as the parliament when he returns."

Michelle's gut twisted at the thought of Peter returning and finding Beck had monopolized the country during his time away. Beck wouldn't have to say anything to worry him.

"Until then," Beck hissed, his eyes narrowing and voice dropping low, "you'll do as you're told."

The idea was amusing and Michelle didn't muffle her laugh. She'd never been good at doing as she was told and Beck, as Captain of the Guard, was sure to know as much from his short time amongst them.

"Your coup won't last," she told him laughingly. "You have us now, but it won't last and I don't 'do as I'm told'."

With a twitch of his lips and a dark glimmer in his eye, Beck told her, "Then you won't last either."

She was to be Beck's puppet. Until Peter returned and Beck could work through him, he was using her, and Michelle was limited in options for fighting back.

The morning after his coup, Beck had held a dagger to her neck and warned her that if she didn't do exactly as he said, he'd slit her throat. She'd laughed, but Beck was quicker at adapting than she'd anticipated. Before she had finished laughing, he'd changed his approach.

"You'll do what I say," he said, "or your husband will face the consequences."

Peter could and would defend himself. She didn't worry about his physical safety. What she did worry about, however, was Beck's silver tongue and the tales he would spin for Peter about her, about the coup, about them.

Michelle had agreed to cooperate.

Peter was the gentlest and most trusting person she had ever met. She would not let him fall for Beck's tales and drown in his lies. So she lied for Beck instead, showing her face at the parliament meeting the following morning with a script written by Beck and a reassurance that Beck was not a problem.

"His methods―although uncalled for and brash―" She put her own spin on it― "brought my attention to many problems. The issue has been resolved."

While she did follow Beck's script, she did not read it. Michelle was not someone to be controlled and if Beck wanted to use her as a puppet, she was going to control the way he did so.

As her puppeteer, though, Beck was not ignorant of the way she twisted his words. She spoke to the parliament and he locked her in her quarters when she didn't. Her refusal to blindly do as she was told did not go unpunished, though.

Aside from the single meal she ate at the parliament building, Beck blocked her access to the kitchens. Rogue guards were posted outside her quarters and accompanied her at all times. During her second day speaking for Beck in parliament, her balcony was barricaded and her quarters were emptied of all books and writing materials between the time she was escorted to parliament and when she returned.

The third day passed the same and by the fourth evening, she had dark bruises on her arms where the rogues grabbed her whenever they escorted her between the parliament building and her quarters in the palace.

Unlike the previous evenings, when the fifth day drew to a close, Beck personally pulled her from her quarters and through the palace halls.

It had been days since she'd been allowed anywhere but her quarters within the palace, but she was unsurprised to discover Beck had arranged their throne room for himself. She and Peter had never spent time in the room; not after their coronation and the resulting ball. Beck, however, seemed to have made it his primary place of ruling.

He sat on Peter's throne and the sight of him there made her toes curl and her blood boil.

"A ruler should appreciate his worth," Beck told her, rubbing the arm of the throne. "You two never did."

"We rule with our people," Michelle argued, "not in an empty room."

It had been something Michelle had battled fiercely for. If she were to help Peter run a country, they would both be in communication with their people. Unlike rulers across the sea, they would not decide everything for their country from the confines of their throne room.

"You sure thought so, didn't you?" Beck hummed demeaningly and Michelle's shoulders drew tight. The guards holding her tightened their grip and the blackened bruises that now circled her arms ached in protest.

Beck grew silent and Michelle knew he was waiting for her to retaliate. Not for the first time since he'd seized her parliament five days earlier, she didn't do what he was expecting her to.

"Why am I here, Beck?" she asked. While she didn't necessarily enjoy being sequestered in her quarters without her books or a balcony to sit on, she enjoyed Beck's presence even less.

"You're my ever obedient puppet, aren't you?"

It wasn't an answer and in response, Michelle narrowed her eyes.

Any verbal reply she might have come up with was pushed out of her mind, though, at the sound of muffled shouting from the other side of the throne room doors. Shouting that sounded too much like―

"Peter!" she gasped as the throne room door opened and Peter was dragged through them by no less than three of Beck's guards.

She pulled against her guards but they held firm as Peter was shoved to his knees in front of her and Beck.

Hands pushed their way into his hair, holding him down in a way that she could tell was painful by the purse of his lips. She moved forward on instinct, nearly breaking free of the guards holding her back only to be stopped by an arm across her chest and pulled back into place. Her breath caught in her throat and Peter's wide eyes met hers for a brief moment before his hair was pulled roughly and he was forced to look at Beck instead.

"Welcome back, Peter," Beck sneered, still draped lazily across Peter's throne. "There've been a few―changes since you were last in town."

"I swear on my life, Beck," Peter snarled, gasping as the guards around him tightened their hold on his hair, "if you've so much as touched my wife―"

Beck cut him off with an echoing laugh. The sound was hollow and forced, but Beck didn't stop until Peter's threat dropped off and he was the only one to be heard.

"I haven't touched your dear Michelle," he said smoothly. The ghost of a hand flitted across Michelle's jaw, but she resigned herself to never telling Peter. "She has been a very willing accomplice."

"Liar!" Michelle hissed, her gaze snapping from Peter to Beck.

Beck raised his hand sharply and although he was too far to hit her, Peter shouted.

"An accomplice," Beck amended, lowering his hand and sliding his gaze back over to Peter. "Now it's your turn."

"Go to hell," Peter bit back.

It was enough of a retort to get Beck off of the throne. In one sweeping motion, he stood and grabbed Michelle's arm, pulling her forward until she was in front of Peter. Even as her knees slammed into the hard palace floor and Beck loomed over them both, Michelle felt herself breathe for the first time since Beck had first appeared in her parliament hearing days ago. Before she could fully relax in Peter's presence, Beck's fist was in her hair.

"Let's try that again," he murmured. With a painful yank on her hair and a shove of her head, Beck said, "It's your turn to comply and if you don't, there'll be consequences."

They were both puppets now and while puppets were kept in closets, Beck had the decency to let them remain in their quarters. Whether it was to avoid the rumors that were sure to leave the palace if they were forced to move chambers or because Beck had something else up his sleeve, Michelle didn't care. Even without her books or her art supplies―even without access to the balcony―she was glad to stay somewhere familiar.

The soldiers had hardly let them go and the lock hadn't even slid into place when Peter was reaching for her frantically.

His arms circled her shoulders, drawing her to his chest as the door clicked shut and the lock twisted behind him. She drew a breath and he was suddenly pulling away, his hands flitting from her shoulders to her cheeks and back to her shoulders.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, swallowing down a million more questions and focusing on the only thing he'd been able to think about since seeing her. "Did he hurt you? Are you okay?"

"I'm okay, Peter," she assured him, catching one of his hands in her own. "I'm okay."

He nodded in relief but as his hands fell from her shoulders to gently grip her arms, her lips thinned and her eyes left him just long enough that Peter knew she was lying.

"Em―"

He squeezed her arms to bring her attention back to him, to ask again if she had been hurt, but she flinched. Immediately, he dropped his hands from around her and looked at her with wide eyes.

"You're hurt."

It wasn't a question. She'd flinched when he'd held her despite how gentle he'd tried to keep his touch. She'd flinched and he was going to kill Beck for it.

"It's just a bruise," she said. She reached for his hands and pulled him back to her as she said, "Beck's soldiers are clearly terrified that I'll escape them."

Peter's eyes narrowed and he cast a wary gaze to her arms, but Michelle didn't explain further. When she changed into her nightclothes later that evening, however, he caught a glimpse of the black and purple fingerprints that encircled her upper arms. If he held her a little tighter that night as she slept, no one would know.

Now that Peter had returned, Michelle was left to pass entire days alone in their quarters. Beck's soldiers pulled Peter away shortly after their only meal and he wasn't returned to her until evening.

"He's reversing acts of parliament," Peter told her the first evening.

Her eyes flitted over him, checking subconsciously for any sign that Beck had hurt him, but he seemed unharmed.

Peter's jaw tightened as he muttered, "All the work we did to support the lower classes. He's destroying it."

"And you're the one seen doing it," Michelle said softly.

Peter nodded and she gently brushed her fingers through his curls. She pressed a firm kiss to his head before murmuring, "We'll figure something out."

Michelle didn't write to Pepper. She hadn't sent anything with Peter when he'd left over a week ago, having intended to write Pepper shortly after he left. When Beck moved into the palace and began to undermine parliament, however, she was too preoccupied.

Now, eleven days after Beck's military coup, it was a conscious decision.

Anthony Stark had been the reason for Peter's visit upstate. All but Peter's father, Tony had helped Peter and Michelle rule since well before their coronation. As such, Pepper had quickly and smoothly found a place in Michelle's life and although they didn't often see each other, there were weekly letters back and forth that kept them in touch.

For the last two weeks, there had been silence on Michelle's end and she knew Pepper wouldn't allow it.

She had expected a worried letter, not a visit. When Beck flew into her quarter early one afternoon with a sneer across his face, however, she learned that all her mail had been thrown aside without a glance. They hadn't even realized Pepper had been trying to contact her.

"The queen of upstate New York is here," he told her.

God bless Pepper, Michelle thought to herself, though she kept her face blank.

"She believes there's something wrong." Beck's hand wrapped around her arm, pulling her towards him as he snarled, "You'll assure her nothing is wrong. Everything is just how it's supposed to be, but you're feeling a bit under the weather."

"And if I don't?" Michelle argued, leaning away from him with a scowl.

Beck merely sneered, passing her off to his soldiers with the instruction to never let her out of their sight.

"So much as a whisper," Beck warned her, "and you'll be escorted out."

With a sneer of her own, Michelle let the soldiers walk her through the palace halls and away from Beck. They didn't touch her, but the wall they formed around her and the presence of more rogue guards patrolling the palace was enough to keep her from physically fighting back. Michelle had never been one for physical altercations, though, and there was plenty of time between her quarters and the tea room for her to mentally draft a warning for Pepper.

As soon as she stepped into the tea room, the soldiers dispersed around the room. They stood in front of all the exits and Michelle didn't miss the raise of Pepper's eyebrow as she watched them move. Michelle pulled her in for a too-tight hug before she pointed it out.

"Don't say anything," she breathed in Pepper's ear, her lips barely moving with the warning.

Pepper held her tighter then pulled away with a well-hidden look in her eyes. She was worried and Beck's soldiers had only added to her concern.

"I didn't hear from you," Pepper told her, pulling Michelle onto the sofa beside her. "I sent you three letters and not a single one got a response."

"I've been feeling under the weather," Michelle replied, Beck's lie falling smoothly from her lips. Pepper saw through it.

There was a reason Pepper had become Michelle's closest confidant and mentor. She was quick. Quick-witted, quick-thinking, and quick to adapt.

Something was wrong and Pepper knew it, but she also knew Michelle would not tell her. Soldiers she had never seen before stood around the tea room and Michelle talked about how boring parliament proceedings had been recently, something Pepper never expected her to say.

There was a problem with parliament, then, Pepper reasoned.

Michelle saw the moment it clicked in Pepper's expression, hidden from the soldiers but not from her. Plowing forward, Michelle mentioned how their soldiers were starting a new training regimen and it's really unnecessary for them to be everywhere, but Peter thinks it's good training.

The pieces had begun to fall into place in Pepper's head by then, but when a man stepped into the tea room, a dark red cloak falling from his shoulders and a long sword tied to his hip, Michelle began making excuses to leave and Pepper frowned.

"We're looking into a representative to take over parliament hearings," Michelle said. Her shoulder shifted backward and Pepper's eyes flickered behind her. "They're too frustrating these days."

"Right," Pepper agreed smoothly. "Anyone in particular?"

"No." Michelle's head tipped back and the man behind her narrowed his eyes.

Him, then, Pepper realized. He was part of the problem.

"Your Highness." The man stepped forward, his hand dropping to Michelle's shoulder too roughly. "The doctor recommended more rest. This doesn't look like rest."

"We were just finishing." Michelle's voice was too tight, but she stood and stepped away from him to hug Pepper goodbye.

Pepper almost missed the gasp of "Help us," before Michelle pulled back with a smile.

"I'll write when I'm feeling better," Michelle promised.

She was pulled out of the room by the man in the cloak before Pepper could do more than nod.

When Peter was brought back to their quarters that night, he was limping. It only took three steps for Michelle to notice and as soon as she did, she rushed to his side. Her arms had barely wrapped around him when he collapsed against her, nearly sending them both sprawling towards the ground.

"Peter?" She stumbled under his weight but managed to pull the two of them to the sofa. "Peter, what happened?"

"I'm okay," he said instead, catching her hands in his.

"That's not what I asked," she replied pointedly. "What happened?"

"He wanted me to issue a request for military action against upstate New York."

Michelle's thoughts flitted briefly back to her short conversation with Pepper. Had Beck figured them out? Was he really going to start a war against them?

"I wouldn't do it." Peter shook his head. "It would have alerted Tony. He'd know something was wrong."

At that, Michelle bit her lip. Her sudden hesitancy didn't go unnoticed by Peter and he frowned.

"Pepper visited today," she told him quietly. "I couldn't tell her, but―but she knows. She knows something's wrong."

"MJ, why would you―" Peter broke off, looking at her worriedly before continuing― "He could find out. Beck will find out and then―"

"They're hurting you, Peter," she interrupted. Clutching his hands in hers, she said, "They're hurting you and they're hurting our people, and―and I couldn't just let her leave. She'll figure out something."

"He'll figure it out first, Em," Peter murmured, still leaning heavily against her. "He'll―God, he'll hurt you too."

"Pepper's quick," Michelle assured him. Her arm snaked around his shoulders as he finally succumbed to the urge to lean fully against her. Pressing her lips to his head, she murmured, "She'll figure it out quicker."

In a way, they were both right.

It was a full day's time to travel upstate from their palace. By Michelle's best estimate, Pepper would have arrived by late afternoon the following day and while she remained locked inside her quarters, Peter was pulled away shortly after they'd awoken. He did not return that evening.

"Where the hell is he?" Michelle demanded, pounding on the back of her locked door. "Tell me where my husband is!"

Her fist ached and her throat was tight with fear as she was suddenly faced with the very real possibility that Beck would kill one of them. She'd taken it for granted. Beck had let them spend the nights together and she'd taken it for granted, assuming it wouldn't change.

"Keep pounding and you'll join him," a guard's muffled voice said through the door.

Michelle's eyes grew wide and fear gripped her chest, but she pounded even harder on the door and shouted again for them to tell her where Peter was. With a shout, she threw her shoulder against the door, knowing it wouldn't budge but hoping the noise of it would drive the guards to open it and answer her.

She collided with the edge of the door as it was pushed open, the corner cutting into her shoulder. The side of her head bounced off the corner and she stepped back in a daze.

There was a hand tight around her arm a second later and she suppressed a victorious smile as they pulled her from her room.

"Beck won't like this," a guard muttered.

"Then he can stand guard instead," the guard holding her grumbled back. "I can't stand all the banging."

He led her down the hall and through the palace doors before Michelle realized where they were going. There was only one guard who led her across the lawn and around the back of the palace, but she didn't try to pull away. Peter was at the forefront of her mind and if Beck had ordered him to be sent to the royal prison, she didn't dare risk angering him further.

The prison had never been used in the time since Michelle and Peter had taken the throne in the southern half of New York. They had taken great care to ensure it was in decent condition in case the need ever arose, but it seemed to Michelle that Beck had intentionally reversed all their work in the span of a day.

It was more of a cellar than a prison. Dirt covered the candlelit walls and two guards stood posted outside a cell at the very far end. Michelle didn't even try to quell the urge to run.

She broke free of the single guard, earning an angered shout in return, and raced to the cell. The two guards standing in front were quick to pull her away, but not before she caught a glimpse of Peter tucked away in a corner.

"Peter!"

Her gasp was broken off by a grunt as one of the guards shoved her back roughly and she stumbled. With a scowl, she righted herself and demanded they let her in.

"What's she doing here?" The guard on the right addressed the one who had escorted her from the palace, looking past Michelle to do so.

"Wouldn't stop shouting to see her husband," he grumbled. "At least here, she'll shut up."

"Not if someone doesn't let me in right now," she snarled, pointing sharply at the locked door. "I'll keep shouting until someone lets me see him."

"You've seen him," the guard on the left said. She scowled at him. "Get lost."

With a huff, she snatched the keyring from the wall and shouldered her way past the guard, twisting the lock open as she did so. Three shouts rose from behind her as she threw open the door and dropped the key ring. Her eyes fell on Peter's still form in the back corner.

"Peter." She dropped to the ground in front of him with a breath.

"MJ?" He groaned, lifting his head from the wall to blink at her. Michelle nodded. "You shouldn't be here."

His words slurred and Michelle's eyes flickered over his arms and face. Curled up with his knees to his chest, she couldn't see much of him. The dark wasn't helping either, but she could see dried blood on his temple and a dark mark on his chin. His shirt was torn and Michelle hoped with everything in her that it wasn't his blood that stained the edges.

A hand wrapped around her arm from behind, pulling her to her feet, and Michelle lashed out violently.

"Let me go!"

Her fist found the guard's nose and an echoing crunch sounded around the cell. His hand fell from her arm as he shouted in pain and Michelle rounded on the guards with an angry sneer.

"I'm staying," she snarled, eyeing the guard whose nose she'd broken. "Post another guard for all I care," she hissed, "but I'm not leaving."

She waited until they took a step back and watched as they pulled the cell door closed. As the lock slid back in place, she dropped back down in front of Peter.

"God, Peter," she murmured. His eyes were foggy when he looked at her and she swallowed a lump in her throat. "What did they do to you?"

Peter's hand shook slightly as he reached for her and Michelle leaned forward. When his fingers brushed the side of her temple, she twitched at a sudden and unexpected pain. Peter's frown deepened and even though there wasn't much light, she could see something dark covering his fingertips.

"You're bleeding," he told her. His wide eyes found hers. "Michelle―"

"It was the door," she told him softly, smoothing down his curls gently. "They opened the door and I―well, I ran into it."

Peter's eyes narrowed as he blinked at her.

"I was worried about you," she whispered. "They wouldn't tell me anything and you never returned to the room."

Peter nodded slowly and Michelle wanted to ask again what they had done to him, but she doubted he'd tell her. Even if he did, there was very little she could do about it here: in a locked prison cell with no medical supplies.

"Beck knows," he murmured. His hand found hers and it shook, but he held on tightly. "At least, I think he does."

"About Pepper?" Michelle asked. Peter nodded and Michelle let out a breath. "How?"

Peter shook his head. "I don't know."

The cell fell silent.

Michelle shifted to sit beside Peter, her back against the wall and her hand still in his. Outside, the three guards murmured and candlelight flickered against the ceiling, but she couldn't see much through the small hole in the cell door. Peter was at her side, though, and he was breathing, if not irregularly.

"I'm glad you're here," Peter's voice said beside her, almost too quiet to hear.

Michelle squeezed his hand in the dark and smiled. "I'm glad I'm here too."

Michelle didn't remember falling asleep. She remembered dozing, but always snapping awake before she could fully relax until one time, she snapped awake and she couldn't remember closing her eyes.

Beside her, Peter was still out. Whether he was asleep or unconscious, though, Michelle couldn't be certain. With the tentative daylight that was streaming into the prison, it was easier to make out the abuse Peter had suffered before she arrived.

His face was bruised, but it wasn't nearly as bad as his arms. Dried blood covered his shoulders and although he was leaning against the prison wall, Michelle wondered if his back was torn up; if Beck had whipped him.

She swallowed down the thought and squeezed Peter's hand, hoping not to draw the attention of the guards outside.

Peter woke up with a sharp breath. His eyes snapped open and darted towards the prison door before landing on her.

"MJ." It was just her name, not a panicked question or a flurry of concern, but she still nodded.

"Good morning, tiger," she murmured. She lifted his hand to brush a kiss to his bloodied knuckles. She raised an eyebrow at them, suddenly wondering if perhaps Peter hadn't been the only one bruised last night.

"He threatened you," he explained softly, his eyes on hers. "I broke his nose for it."

"And he whipped you for that."

Peter grimaced and didn't deny her assumption, much to Michelle's dismay.

"Peter―"

"I'm okay, Em," he promised, squeezing her hand. "It hurts, yeah, but hey, I'm okay."

Michelle pursed her lips, eyes flickering towards the door as she thought of what she could do to protect Peter when Beck inevitably returned and found them together. If they were lucky, they would have a few hours before then. If the sound of the heavy prison door being opened was anything to go by, though, they were out of time.

"MJ." Peter tugged on her hand and her gaze flitted back to his. "Don't."

"Don't tell me not to, Peter," she said sharply. "Don't be a hypocrite." She fixed him with a stern look as she reminded him, "You got hurt for protecting me. You're in no place to tell me not to do the same."

Peter looked ready to argue, even opened his mouth to do so, but Beck's face was visible through the cell door and a guard was unlocking it before he could.

In the time it took Beck to step through the cell door and fix them both with a glare, Michelle was on her feet between him and Peter despite Peter's attempted protests.

"You sneaky little bitch," Beck crooned, stabbing a finger at her. "I don't know what you did, but I know you did something when that Stark bitch was here."

Michelle's eyes narrowed on him.

He took a step forward and Michelle stepped in front of him, stopping him where he stood.

"You have me today," she told him sharply. "Peter stays here. Unharmed."

Beck's lips twitched into an amused smirk and he looked past her to where Peter was attempting to clamber to his feet.

"Does Peter agree?" he mused tauntingly. "Only if his royal highness agrees."

Peter was all but slumped over from where he stood supported in the corner. Michelle turned to look at him, silently pleading with him to simply say yes. He could hardly stand without something supporting him. It was clear to her that he needed the day to rest, but it was equally clear how unlikely he was to agree.

He had let Beck whip him to keep her from being a pawn; to keep her from being hurt. Not being able to stand was not going to change his mind.

"What do you think, Beck?" Peter rolled his shoulders only to grimace and hunch over yet again.

"I care very little what you think," Beck told him plainly. His fingers slid around the inside of Michelle's arm. "Fortunately for you, madam the queen," Beck hummed mockingly, "you are precisely the tool I need."

Peter's eyes widened and he stepped away from the wall, one arm reaching for Michelle and the other wrapped protectively around his abdomen, as Beck tugged Michelle towards the cell door.

"MJ, no!" Peter stumbled and his outstretched hand darted to the wall for support.

"Enjoy your day off, kid," Beck said, pushing Michelle into the waiting arms of two guards. He pulled the cell door closed behind him, locking it as Peter shouted in protest.

Turning back to Michelle, Beck's face hardened and he grabbed her chin roughly as he muttered, "We're going to fix your mess."

They had both been right about Beck and Pepper figuring out what Michelle had said and by some miracle, the word had spread quicker upstate than Michelle could have ever hoped. It should have been another day before Tony and Pepper were able to move soldiers, but Beck's rogues had spotted a legion on their way that morning. They would reach the palace walls by that afternoon.

Beck was not wasting time. Aside from the two soldiers that remained posted outside of Peter's prison cell and the three that accompanied her and Beck, all the others were sent to fortify the palace walls and delay the advancement of the Starks' military.

"It's not just the House of Stark," a guard said, eyeing Beck warily. "There are soldiers wearing the Parker crest as well."

Beck rounded on her with an explosion of anger that made her eyes widen.

"Your soldiers have returned, then," he snarled, grabbing a fistful of her hair.

"I told you: you won't last," Michelle said. She grit her teeth as he pulled on her hair painfully and sighed a breath of relief when he let her go in a howl of anger.

"Double the guard in the prison," he ordered the guard. "No one gets in and the kid doesn't get out."

The guard scurried off to fulfill the orders and Michelle watched as Beck returned to pacing in front of her. He muttered under his breath, occasionally looking up to eye Michelle before resuming his spiral.

It was when his eyes settled on her for the third time that the ground shook and the clanging of swords echoed from outside the throne room.

"How the hell―"

Beck cut himself off and reached blindly for Michelle. His sword was already in his hand and the guards at her sides had theirs leveled at her, but Michelle didn't pause to think about the odds stacked against her.

Beck's nose was freshly broken. He'd cleaned it since last night, but the bruises had darkened around his eyes and she knew Peter had a mean swing. Unluckily for Beck, Peter had learned it from her and Michelle was not looking to hold back.

Beck's scream was more satisfying than Michelle had expected. The heel of her hand collided with his face and he howled before she'd drawn back her hand to shove him out of her way.

She spun out of the reach of the guards' groping hands and shot towards the doors to the throne room. Her fingers brushed the handle and she grabbed it just as an arm snaked around her neck and pulled her away. She thrust her elbow back and into the guard's unprotected side as the door flew open and a mix of soldiers wearing the Parker crest and the Stark crest flooded the room.

She could have cried with relief at the sight of them, but she didn't. Choking back her cry of joy, she pulled free of Beck's soldier and pushed through the swarm of soldiers entering the throne room.

They filled the palace halls. Beck's rogue soldiers littered the floor but their returned soldiers were already taking care of the carnage.

"Your Highness, are you―"

"Is anyone in the prison?" she interrupted. She was already moving in Peter's direction even as the soldier nodded. "Find me a doctor, would you, please?"

"Of course, your highness," the soldier agreed. He nodded and Michelle all but ran across the yard.

She passed dozens of soldiers, some escorting Beck's rogues into the prison and others moving into the palace.

"Your Majesty!"

"Peter's in there," Michelle explained shortly, pushing her way through the prison door and between two soldiers.

The cells were filling up quickly, but the cell at the far end of the hall was wide open and two soldiers stood guard outside. When she flew through the door, they didn't so much as raise a hand to stop her.

Tony was knelt beside Peter, sword lying flat at his side and helmet tossed haphazardly by the door. Peter's eyes were firmly closed and his lips were nothing more than a thin line, but as soon as she took a step in his direction, he opened his eyes.

"MJ."

Peter's murmur drew Tony's attention back to her and he turned.

"Oh, thank god you're alright," he said. He waved Michelle over to his side and she was there in two steps.

Tony was still talking to her, saying something about how Pepper was in a bit of a frenzy making sure they were okay after her visit, but Michelle was focused solely on Peter.

"I've already called for a doctor," she murmured, brushing curls from his forehead. "No matter what he says, you're going on bed rest for at least a week, you hear?"

"It's not that bad," Peter protested weakly. Even as he reached a hand up to wrap around her wrist, his fingers quivered and he grimaced.

"Bed rest," Michelle repeated softly.

With a resigned sigh, he nodded.

"You're both on bed rest for all I care," Tony said, drawing both of their attention towards him.

Michelle's eyes narrowed on him, but Tony was explaining each step in his plan to oust Beck for them before she could form a counterargument.

"We've got two legions against his small array of rogue soldiers," Tony reminded her. "He's done for. Pep is already taking care of your parliament and I will be personally overseeing his sentencing."

"He did a lot of damage, Tony," Peter said. "He―Everything that MJ and I worked for, he erased and I'm pretty sure the whole city thinks it's my fault."

"Now that is a foolish assumption if I ever did hear one," Tony said, both brushing off Peter's concern and sharing a look with Michelle that said he would take care of it. "You've been through hell. Both of you. You're gonna take this time to breathe, heal―" He looked pointedly at Peter― "and let the adults handle it."

Michelle was ready to offer her help, to promise that she wasn't hurt and could at least be of assistance, but the doctor knocked on the wall behind her to announce his presence and her thoughts zeroed in on Peter's injuries yet again.

In the time Michelle talked the doctor through Peter's injuries (the ones she knew about, at least), Tony slipped away. Peter dipped in and out of consciousness, leaving Michelle to guess at where he was injured based on how he'd moved that morning and since her return.

"His back is the worst," she murmured, watching the doctor clean dried blood from his arms. "Beck whipped him."

Doctor Banner hummed and drew away from Peter to look at her.

"I need to get him somewhere cleaner before I can do anything," he said. He eyed the bloodied back of Peter's shirt as he told her, "He's going to bleed again and I don't want to risk an infection."

Very gently, Michelle nudged Peter awake. Between her and Doctor Banner, they helped Peter to his feet and slowly walked with him out of the prison.

The palace grounds were filled with soldiers, some wearing the Parker crest and others wearing the Stark crest. Despite multiple offers to help Peter instead, Michelle refused and Peter's arm around her shoulder tightened minisculely each time. He didn't want to be pulled away from her any more than she did.

The walk from the prison to their chambers was long, but Peter moved slowly and Michelle would have sooner fallen on Beck's sword than forced Peter to walk faster. Even with the slow movement, the cuts across Peter's back had reopened by the time they arrived at their chambers.

Doctor Banner got to work cleaning Peter's injuries the second he settled on their bed.

Laid on his stomach with his shirt off, Peter buried his face in his pillow in what Michelle assumed was an attempt to hide his grimacing. His hand clutched hers as Banner worked, though, which meant that even with his face hidden, Michelle was aware of every minor pain he felt.

Doctor Banner treated Peter as soldiers and the palace staff slowly brought back what Beck had taken from their room. As Peter's back was wrapped and he was given a sedative to help him sleep off the pain, one of their bookshelves had been fully restocked. When Doctor Banner had finished tending to the few minor injuries Michelle had, their quarters were partially re-furnished and the balcony was once again accessible.

"I'll be back to check his dressings in the morning," Doctor Banner assured her, nodding at Tony as he stepped into their quarters. Pepper was nowhere to be seen.

"Thank you," Michelle and Tony said at once.

Doctor Banner bowed his head at each of them and disappeared through the open door, pulling it shut behind him.

The room was silent for a moment as Tony's eyes flickered over Peter's wrapped back. Michelle was still sitting beside him on the bed, her hand tucked in his even though he'd been asleep for a while now.

"How did you arrive so quickly?" Michelle asked, breaking the silence between them.

"Pep had a guard break away from her caravan before she had even left sight of your palace gates," Tony explained quietly. His eyes didn't leave Peter. "We had enough time to ready the guards before she returned."

"And our soldiers?" Michelle asked. "Where did you find them?"

She hadn't thought much about the disappearance of their military, but it was unfortunately suspicious. As far as she knew, Peter hadn't arranged a training exercise or even sent them abroad before he left.

"They were sent to Jersey on Beck's orders," Tony told her. "Apparently, he fabricated a story about rogue soldiers organizing a coup."

Michelle frowned. She should have been told if their soldiers had been sent away from the palace, let alone out of the country.

"How come I wasn't told?"

At her question, Tony grimaced and his eyes finally left Peter to look at her. She raised a brow at him and he said, albeit hesitantly, "As Captain of the Guard, Beck is in charge of all military operations when Peter is gone. Consent from the Queen is not required."

Tony's eyes left hers again as Michelle frowned. She'd been sure they had combed through all the old laws and changed those that had been so outdated. If this had escaped their attention, what else had?

She made a mental note to carefully read through the military law books as soon as she could and redirected the conversation back to what had originally piqued her curiosity.

"Jersey isn't on the way from upstate," Michelle reminded him, drawing Tony's attention back to her. "How did you find them?"

"They found us, actually," Tony admitted. "They'd found Beck's supposed rogue soldiers: a few farmers who knew nothing whatsoever about a coup or even military action in the area. They were on their way back when we crossed the river."

For another long moment, only the sound of Peter's soft snores filled the room. Michelle watched him, content to have nothing better to do at the moment.

She should talk with the guards, arrange new protocol so that she and Peter were always in the loop on their whereabouts. Not knowing where they had gone had been terrifying even if she hadn't had much time to think about it.

She should talk with parliament. Explain what had really happened. Start working with her people again and fix what Beck had destroyed.

She should talk to Pepper. Already, she had a list of questions about what to do and how to earn back the respect and trust of their people. If she couldn't even keep one man from taking her throne the second Peter left, how could they trust her to keep them from further harm?

"Rest, Michelle," Tony said, interrupting her spiral of thoughts. Her eyes moved from Peter to Tony and he nodded at Peter on the bed. "Take a cue from your husband and rest."

"I'm not hurt," Michelle argued. There was a cut on her forehead and bruises around her arms, but she wasn't hurt in the same sense that Peter was.

"Peter took a physical beating and you took an emotional one," Tony said. He gave her a look that made her slump against the headboard of their bed as he repeated, "Rest."

"If I do," Michelle negotiated, "will you promise to send Pepper in when she's available? I know she's with the parliament and I―"

"If you rest," Tony interrupted, "I'll tell her. But only if you lay down and close your eyes."

She huffed and muttered in annoyance, but she laid down beside Peter and pulled his hand to her chest. He was still on his stomach and she'd seen how torn his back was, so she didn't dare move too close or lay her head on his shoulder.

Cracking an eye open, she spotted Tony watching her with crossed arms, waiting for her to make good on her end of the deal and narrowing his eyes at her when he noticed her peeking.

"Sleep, Michelle," he said, finally turning to leave. "Let Pep and I handle the "right now" and when you're both recovered, you'll be back in charge."

She closed her eyes, but only because she knew Tony would come to check on them again and if she wasn't sleeping, he wouldn't send Pepper. What she didn't expect, however, was to sleep through the two times he did poke his head into their chambers and wake up the following morning.

Peter had shifted during the night. He'd pulled her almost completely under him, throwing both his arm and half of his body across hers as she laid on her back. When she opened her eyes, he was watching her.

"How's your back?" she murmured. Her arm that wasn't trapped under his chest reached up to hover across the dressing on his back.

"Hurts," he replied with a small smile. He pressed a kiss to her lips and if he hadn't been such a dead weight on top of her, she could have been fooled into believing the last week had been a fever dream.

"We should call Doctor Banner," she muttered, her lips brushing his as she spoke.

"Already done." Peter bumped her nose with his, tipping her lips back up to his. "And before you ask," he said, pulling away momentarily, "Tony said he'd send Pepper in after we ate."

Her need to talk to Pepper was no longer pressing. Not when Peter was awake and actively distracting her from the way her body ached after the stress from the last several days. In fact, talking with Pepper was far from her mind. As long as Peter stayed awake and kept smiling at her like that, she would be more than happy to stay shut away in their quarters while the Starks took care of Beck.

Peter was still injured and Michelle was fighting sleep with every blink, so after a long good morning kiss, they both settled back down into their bed. With a bit of reluctance and a loud groan, Michelle was the one to get up and tell the guards outside their door (posted there for Peter's own peace of mind, apparently) that they were ready for breakfast.

Finishing their meal meant that the itch under Michelle's skin returned, leaving her with the feeling that she should be doing something even though the last thing she wanted to do was leave Peter's side. Even when Pepper arrived, bringing with her promising news from the parliament, Michelle was restless.

Pepper promised the parliament was looking forward to her return and Michelle's foot wriggled as she sat on the sofa. Pepper explained that their people―parliament included―still held nothing but respect for them both, but Michelle's eyes flickered aimlessly between Pepper, Peter, and the cracked door. Pepper was telling her they all wanted nothing but a safe recovery for both her and Peter, but Michelle was hearing whispers of when will you be back and why did you leave that rendered Pepper's voice inaudible.

"Michelle."

She blinked and Pepper's worried face came into focus in front of her. Behind her, there was a rustling of sheets and blankets followed by a muffled grunt that had Michelle on her feet in a flash.

"What are you doing?" she exclaimed, pressing a hand to Peter's chest to stop him from standing up. "You'll hurt yourself."

"Are you alright?" Peter asked, ignoring her warning and getting to his feet. He wobbled but Michelle was there to keep him from falling, though he hardly seemed to notice. "Em?"

"I zoned out," she told him, gently pushing him back to sit on the bed. "I'm okay."

"Pep and Tony have it handled," Peter told her. His hand reached up and tangled in her hair. "You don't have to worry about anything right now."

"It's a little hard," Michelle huffed, "when the last thing the parliament saw of me was Beck's soldiers dragging me out of―"

"You said they didn't hurt you." Peter's voice dropped and his eyes darted towards the door as a dark look took over his face.

"They didn't," Michelle assured him, pulling his attention back to her. "But they weren't subtle."

"The parliament understands," Pepper said gently. Both Peter and Michelle turned to her. "They understand your need to take some time off and they understand your actions. It's even been brought to my attention," Pepper said, with a small smile, "that the laws passed under Beck were improperly filed and, therefore, invalid."

Michelle blinked in surprise and beside her, Peter let out a soft huff of a laugh.

"They had your backs," Pepper told them, "and I fully believe that's thanks to your decision to rule alongside them, rather than over them."

Knowing that none of Beck's laws had officially been passed seemed to lift all the weight off of Michelle's shoulders. He hadn't destroyed their years of work and the parliament hadn't been fooled by his puppetry.

"That's―" Michelle didn't know what to say, but Pepper seemed to understand.

"Parliament is taking care of themselves for the moment," she promised. "They'll be ready when you are, but they'll be okay until then."

Pepper stayed just long enough for Michelle to write up a quick note for the parliament, thanking them for their support and promising them full support in return for any updates they wished to make to the current legislative process. However they decided to further protect the parliament was up to them and Michelle was eager to see what they proposed.

"We'll make changes to the guard as well," Michelle murmured, passing the hastily written note to Pepper. "But I'd feel better if I could be there for that."

"Perfectly understandable," Pepper said with a nod. Nodding towards where Peter was laying on the bed, she told Michelle, "Take the time off, Michelle. God knows that he'll follow you down the hall otherwise."

Michelle snorted, glancing back at Peter who still couldn't stand on his own but looked prepared to do exactly what Pepper had warned.

"I will," Michelle promised and, as soon as Pepper slipped back out through the door, she rejoined Peter's side. "You need the rest more than I do, you know," she hummed, threading her fingers through his hair.

"Like Tony said: We've both been through hell," Peter said, leaning carefully against the headboard.

"I don't think that's what he said." Michelle raised a doubtful brow at him but Peter merely brushed a kiss to her temple and grinned.

"Maybe I put my own spin on it," he admitted with a halfhearted shrug. "The point is that until we're both standing, neither of us is going back to deal with the mess that Beck left behind."

Tony and Pepper were more experienced than them. They'd been ruling for a decade before she and Peter had taken on half of the work and, despite the itch under Michelle's skin to work, she knew they would take care of Beck better than either her or Peter could.

"As long as Tony and Pep are around," Peter reminded her, "we don't really have anything to worry about."

"They do have their half of the country to run, you remember?" Michelle asked, settling gently into his side. When Peter didn't grimace, she relaxed against him. "We can't keep them here forever."

"Just until we're back on our feet," Peter echoed as his arm slowly snaked around her waist. "At the very least, let him take care of Beck. God knows I'd just have him hung."

Michelle knew that Tony would not decide any different, but she also preferred Tony giving out the sentence rather than Peter. It was perhaps a little selfish, maybe a little naive, but as much as she could help it, she didn't want Peter to have blood on his hands. If she knew her husband at all, she knew that he'd agonize over it for years to come and as much as Beck deserved his punishment, Peter did not.

"You should get some more rest," Michelle told him softly. "You've got a lot of healing to do if you want to get back on your feet, tiger."

"Not tired," Peter muttered even as his head dropped to rest on top of hers.

"I'll talk you through my new plans for parliament," Michelle offered teasingly. "I was thinking we rearrange the chain of command so that all orders must first come from both of us before going through―"

Peter let out a long, loud snore that made Michelle smile. Careful not to laugh and jostle him, Michelle shifted so that he could slide down the headboard and rest his head near her lap.

"Was that enough to convince you to sleep?" Michelle teased. Her fingers combed through his curls on their own accord, silently thankful not to find blood caked in his hair like when she'd found him the night before.

"Keep talking," Peter told her. He rolled onto his stomach, tossing an arm across her legs as he buried his nose in the blankets by her thigh. "I want to hear your plans."

Despite rarely attending a parliament session, she knew Peter did, in fact, care about what went on during meetings and what legislation was passed. Since nearly the beginning of their reign, their evenings had been spent with Michelle running ideas past Peter or telling him about the latest changes that had been made. His name did go on the acts passed, but he'd confided once or twice that he simply enjoyed listening to her more than the parliament.

"They're great and all," he'd said, hiding a sheepish smile by ducking his face into the crook of her neck, "but I like you better."

"Alright," Michelle murmured, watching him settle on the bed. "Are you settled?"

With an awkward nod, Peter closed his eyes and Michelle began explaining the rough draft of new military regulations that she'd thought up thus far. Whether it was due to the medication Doctor Banner had been giving Peter or his body simply needing the extra rest to heal, Peter fell asleep before she'd reached the end of her current plan and started thinking out loud, scraping plans left and right as she walked herself through them.

Even when, by the end of the week, Peter was able to stand without needing support and walk short distances around the palace, the Starks did not leave. It wasn't until Beck had been taken care of, parliament had passed new military regulations, and Peter was no longer taking medication that they finally convinced the Starks to return upstate.

"Write me," Pepper ordered, pulling Michelle into a tight hug as they stood outside the Stark's carriage. "If even four days go by and I don't hear from you, I'm sending Tony and an army of soldiers."

"We'll be alright, Pepper," Michelle promised. She stepped away from Pepper only to be pulled into an equally tight hug by Tony, much to Michelle's surprise.

"Keep them in line for us, yeah?" Tony muttered, glancing first at Peter then around the palace grounds. "We're here for you two, one hundred percent, but next time we visit, I don't want to be bringing the cavalry, you understand?"

Michelle rolled her eyes but nodded knowingly.

"You sure you're both okay?" Pepper asked, Peter still hovering at her side.

"Look at 'em, Pep," Tony said, gesturing to Peter then to Michelle. "They've got this. We're just a letter away, too, and they know it."

At Tony's sharp look, Michelle nodded yet again.

"Yeah, Pep," Peter chimed in. He moved to Michelle's side and slipped his hand into hers. "We got this."

"I was referring entirely to Michelle," Tony told him, waving a finger in his direction. "You still have a limp and I'm leaving Banner here with you for at least another week."

Peter's protests were short lived and, after being pulled into one last round of hugs, the Starks left.

"You don't really think he meant only you, right?" Peter asked after a moment. He glanced at Michelle. "He does realize that I'm the king and, technically, above you, right?"

"With words like that," Michelle warned, "you'll be below me and in the servants' quarters no matter how hurt you still are."

Peter grinned and pressed a quick kiss to her lips before hobbling around and walking back towards the palace gates.

"I'm kidding, Em," he murmured, though Michelle had already known as much. "You're so much better than me."

Michelle just hummed and turned her head to press a brief, barely-there kiss to his shoulder.

"I love you," she whispered, squeezing his hand three times.

With a nearly blinding grin and a squeeze of her hand, Peter echoed back, "I love you too."