fast, strong. had a metal arm.

Bucky Barnes

↛ Series

Deception ❀

In order to save your father from an unnecessary fight, you force yourself into an arranged marriage with Brock Rumlow. But when he threatens your father over a small mistake on your part, you find yourself in front of your husband’s biggest rival and your old friend, Bucky Barnes. With the shared history between the two of you, Bucky finds himself drawn to you once again, and will risk everything he has just to keep you safe.         

A Change In Duty ✿

In the Northern Lands is where you meet Natasha’s fiance, King Steven and right hand man Captain James Barnes, who takes an affinity to you quickly, though you are hesitant to trust him. But when a familiar darkness begins to loom over the kingdom, you won’t hesitate to uphold the duty to your royals to protect them. And Captain Barnes will do anything to ensure the safety of the Queen’s Lady.

↛ One Shots

Devotion ❀

When a mission with Sam goes wrong, and you're left bruised and battered, Bucky is there to piece you back together.

Under The Weather

When you start to feel slightly under the weather, you push it aside as just allergies. But when 'allergies' turn into something like the flu, Natasha urges you to rest, despite your complaints. Luckily Bucky is there to take care of you.

Misfire

When the end of a mission turns south , Bucky's number one objective is to keep you safe. Though that becomes a challenge when you're miles away from the compound, and stuck in the middle of a storm.

The Knight and the Queen's Lady ✿ ❀

Being the Queen's lady to your best friend had its advantages. For instance, she always made sure you were always accompanied by Captain James Barnes, the knight who had seemed to meddle his way into your life. Over time, the wall you seemed to have built around yourself starts to crumble, as you begin realize your true feelings for the knight. knight!bucky

Worth This Love ❀

After a former knight is a bit too comfortable and flirtatious with you, Bucky makes it so that his former comrade knows that the Queen's Lady is spoken for. Sequel to The Knight and the Queen's Lady

Preservation ✿

Stranded in the middle of a dark road in Riga was not the way the day was supposed to go. Not with Sam and Zemo arguing about where to go for the night. And especially not with you bleeding in Bucky's arms.

Safety Net ❀

After he's plagued with an all too realistic nightmare, Bucky seeks out your comfort.

Christmas Blues

It's the holidays, and you're determined to get Bucky in the spirit.

Through It All ✿ ❀

When the aftermath of a brutal mission takes your lightened spirit away from you, you feel yourself cave into the dark. Fortunately Bucky is there to bring you back into the light, no matter how hard you push him away.

Not My Babe ❁

After a nasty break up to a nearly two year relationship, you find yourself dragged to a bar by your best friend, though a familiar blue-eyed biker makes the best of your crappy situation. biker!bucky

You'll Never Be Alone ❀

Bucky finally takes you on the date you deserve. Sequel to Not My Babe

Dosed ❀

When you are laced with a deadly pathogen, the team finds themselves working endlessly to find a cure. Only it might not be enough.

↛ Drabbles

Little Dream of Me

It had taken weeks for the injuries and bruises to vanish from your skin, complexion returning to its natural color. The bandages had come off, though the memories would always be in your memory. It took some time before the strength in your body returned, but with time and rest the feeling to your feet soon returned. 

But, the thought of knowing that they would never harm you again, brought warmth to you, one that you had craved your whole life. Instead, you felt the gentle, welcoming hands that came from those surrounded by you, who loved and cared for you. 

You went out with Natasha more. Joining her on her morning walks around the palace, arms linked as you indulged in the latest gossip. 

Trips into town nearly every day, eager to see what goods May Parker had baked. 

Hours spent in the library, positioned against the soft cushions as you read about dragons and princes and princesses. 

Napping in the garden with your head in Bucky’s lap as his tender hands massaged over your muscles. 

It felt freeing. With the castle empty, the newly wedded King and Queen gone on their honeymoon, you had nearly two weeks to do whatever you wished. And you finally allowed yourself to indulge in what your home had to truly offer. You finally stopped tormenting yourself, stopped punishing yourself. It brought back a light to your eyes you didn’t know you were missing. 

But Bucky saw the difference. He noticed everything, the good and bad days and everything in between. 

Being with him felt liberating, it felt right. 

Granted, you had the freedom to do it all along, recalling how persistent Natasha was in the beginning. But the notion of romancing yourself with the Captain of the Knight Guard of all men in the kingdom seemed wrong.

Not because of him, but you. The memories, the nightmares of being too close to another person. The repercussions that would soon follow. It was hard to rid yourself of everything, but old habits die hard, you supposed. 

But, every single day you made efforts to move forwards, instead of backwards.

You could finally live the life you deserved, finally live a life fearless.

Sunlight peered through the curtains that flowed with the morning breeze that passed through the window, flashing over your face. The sun was barely over the mountains, still early in the morning as you sleepily fluttered your eyes open. 

For the first time in years, sleep had now come to you easier than before, finally being able to stay asleep throughout the night. There were, of course, days where the nightmares you had lived through threatened to lure and pull you back into the darkening abyss. 

Still, there were also days where you slept soundly throughout the night, dreams of brunette hair and cerulean eyes, taking you off into the sunset, living a life of your own, just the two of you somewhere out in the countryside. The better days heavily outweighed the bad ones.

A sudden tingling sensation crawled along your arms, and you turned in the soft sheets to the man who laid beside you, fingers trailing up the bare skin of your arms, just until he met the fabric of your dress at your shoulder. 

His eyes met yours as you leaned forward, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. Wrapping your arm around his bare chest, he leaned down and peppered kisses along your arm, and goosebumps raised in his wake. 

“Good morning, my sweetest girl.” Bucky whispered gravely, sleep still evident in his voice. You hummed against the base of his throat, pressing a kiss to his Adam’s apple before pulling away. He looked so human; sleep-tousled hair, slight dark circles under his eyes and the pillow prints embedded against his skin.

“Morning,” you whispered back. A sleepy kiss placed against your lips, his fingers held your face, softly caressing your skin. Ghosting over the faded scar on your cheekbone.

There was nothing you loved more than waking up in his arms. Feeling his strong arms wrap around you, pulling you into the safety of his chest, of his embrace. He felt safe, he felt like home to you.

“Another day we have together,” his voice cut through the silence, hands rubbing up and down your arms. “what do you wish to do today?”

His stubble scratched your arm, sending goosebumps racing up and down your skin. A giggle passed through your lips as you turned out of his arms for a moment, simply taking a sip of water from the mug that sat on your bedside. 

“How about a ride, hm?” Strong arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you back. His warm breath spoke against the skin of your neck, trailing kisses up behind your ear. “A little picnic maybe?” 

A soft sign passed through your lips as you tilted your head backwards, falling into the crook of his neck. You nodded, feeling him wrap his arms tighter around you. 

“A perfect fit,” he whispered, softly kissing your cheek. “Almost like you were made just for me.” 

Heat spread along your cheeks. It had started to ache from how much you were smiling. It was still so early in the morning, you rolled onto your side so that your head was resting against his chest. 

“Maybe I was.” you replied with a sleepy smile. Your eyes fluttered closed for just a moment, though it proved to be longer as sleep pulled you back in. “Go back to sleep.”

Your sleepy voice was muffled by the skin of his chest, and a rumble of laughter passed through his lips. He held you closer and closed his eyes, cheek pressed to the top of your head.

“Yes, my little sleepy head.” 

He watched as you fell back asleep, breathing even before he allowed himself to close his own eyes, soon enough falling back into the slumber he once was in. 

---

Bucky had found the perfect spot. Just a few miles into the forest, near where the stream ran. Towering trees offered shade with their branches and leaves, creating a perfect picnic spot. 

He laid on his back, arm crooked behind his head, your eyes were focused on the nature that surrounded you; tulips in full bloom, green leaves hanging from the trees, birds chittering and soaring in the blue sky. 

Birds chirped in the sky and the sounds of the river rushing filled the silence. A perfect spot he had picked, just for the two of you to spend some alone time, away from the peering eyes of knights and servants, maids and footmen.

Away from the chaos of the palace, where it would just be the two of you. 

Bucky watched as you crawled across the soft grass to where a mother duck and her ducklings sat, observing them from a distance. He flipped onto his stomach, crossing his arms so that his chin was perched upon his muscle. 

Just watching you. 

Observing you. 

How the sunlight cast a warm orange glow down upon you. 

The smile that was present on your face as the duck began to waddle towards you. Only someone like you, who had the energy of something that was so 

You were ethereal, like you had been dropped from the heavens above. Your head turned back to him, a wide grin across your face. Little ducklings wandered up into your lap, softly squeaking as your finger lightly trailed over their fluffy heads.

So far in your own little world, you hadn’t noticed the way he looked at you. Like you were the only person on the earth. Like nothing else existed, nobody else existed. 

Just you and him. 

Turning your head, you felt a heat spread across your cheeks under his gaze. 

“Now what are you looking at, Captain?” you teased lightly, allowing the ducklings to find their way back to their mother before you crawled back to the quilt, Bucky’s eyes following your every move. 

“My whole world.”

A breathless laugh passed through your lips, and you looked down, hiding your bashful face away from him. He pushed himself up to his knees, taking one stride to hook his finger underneath your chin, gingerly guiding your head up. 

“You are my whole world.” His thumb traced over the skin of your chin, inching up to rub against your bottom lip. With the pad of his thumb against your skin, you pursed your lips and gently kissed his finger. 

Your eyes flickered between his own, nearly getting lost in the ocean blues. Heat was still present in your cheeks, not planning on vacating the longer he gazed at you. Like you were the only being that mattered to him. 

Like he would scavenge an entire forest, searching for you. 

Like he would risk his title as Captain to fight the men that laid their hands on you. 

Like he would kill any man who dared to lay their weapon against you. 

“I love you.” you whispered as his hand settled against your cheek. You smiled at him and leaned forward, capturing his lips with yours. 

Both hands cradled your head in his gentle grasp as he tilted his head, bringing you closer to his body. Chest to chest, your arms wrapped around his shoulders, gripping the back of his tunic tightly. He lowered himself back onto the quilt, pulling you into his lap as his hands traveled from your head down to your shoulders, before they found a home on your waist. 

“You won’t grow tired of me?” your voice was small against his lips, but he heard it. His arms tightened around you, his fingers dragging across the fabric of your dress. 

“My sweet girl,” Bucky began, a hand reaching up to brush some of your hair away from your eyes. “I would get tired of breathing before I ever get tired of you.” 

You felt the all too familiar sting of tears in the back of your eyes, but you blinked them away. His hand settled against your cheek. Warm lips pressed against yours, he pulled you closer lowering himself so that his back was against the quilt, caging you to his chest. You laid atop of him, legs tangling with his in the skirt of your dress. 

You pulled away from his lips and pressed your cheek against his chest, curling into him. One of his hands moved up your back and cradled the back of your head, caressing over your hair. 

“Show me that beautiful face of yours,” he softly whispered. The soft voice that was only reserved for you. You lifted your head, Bucky’s hand still present against your hair, eyes cast down upon the man you laid on. Who held you like you were the most fragile, most precious thing on this very earth.

From his point of view, it looked like you had fallen straight out of the heavens above. 

The sun sat just over your head, so that the rays of the sun shone over the top of your head, favoring the angelic look. Strands of hair fell down the sides of your faces. His pupils dilated the longer he looked at you, wide in awe of how beautiful you looked above him. 

In a swift move, Bucky rolled over, so that he was now the one hovering over you. He held himself over you as unrelenting giggles passed through your lips, so much that your whole body shook with laughter. Your hands gripped his shoulders.

Though to Bucky, it was like music to his ears. 

His hand still cradled your head, and he leaned down to press a kiss against your collarbone. He couldn’t wipe the ear splitting grin that nearly took over his whole face. He didn’t want to.

“There she is,” he whispered, lips trailing from your collar bone up the side of your neck, inching close to your jaw and then your cheeks. Goosebumps arose over your skin, and your nails gripped into Bucky’s muscles.  

His eyes trailed over the scar that was on your cheekbone, the one Rumlow had bestowed on you, and he leaned forward and pressed a longing kiss over the scar. 

“Bucky,” your voice was soft as your hand moved from his shoulder to his cheek. His eyes flickered over to yours. You could almost sense what he was thinking. 

But before you could say any more, he spoke first.

“One day, years down the road, I will take us away from all of this,” he spoke to you, uncurling his hand from your head to your cheek. “just the two of us. Away from royalty duties, away from the castles. Away from everything.”

A quiet, peaceful life in the countryside is what you pictured. A little cottage with a garden and a few farm animals, maybe. You could picture being curled up in Bucky’s arms as the two of you lived a normal, calm life. 

“And I will spend the remainder of my days making it up to you.”

There wasn’t anything for him to make up for, but you knew all too well that it was the night he was referring to. He didn’t need to grovel at your feet to beg for your forgiveness.  

It was him who had gone into the forest in the middle of a snowstorm, searching for the men that had taken you, eventually killing one of them. And he had brought you home in a matter of hours.  

“There is nothing to make up for, Bucky,” you said, smiling at him. “I will gladly be by your side until the rest of my days.” You leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “You have saved me in more ways than you know.”

Bucky pressed his chest against yours and pressed his lips to you, his fingertips pressed into the base of your head. His lips were soft against yours, and even though they had been pressed against yours so many times, it never failed to make your stomach flutter. 

To have someone who cared and loved you for you. Bucky was the first man to treat you with a kindness and delicacy you had only dreamed of. The first man to hold you without hurting you, to kiss where others had brought pain. The first man to treat you as if you were another human.

“I think you saved me too, sweet girl.” His voice was husky, low enough that it warmed your belly. “I love you.”

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, fingers carding through his brown wisps of hair. He pulled back enough to gaze down at your face, eyes flickering from your eyes down to your lips. 

“I love you, Bucky.” 

And he kissed you again, smiling against your lips as he held you closer than before. 

---

The village was buzzing with anticipation. 

The spring solstice had passed days after, and the town was filled with decorations that welcomed the springtime. To make up for the King and Queen’s interrupted wedding celebration, the townspeople had put together a wedding festival in their honor. 

Poles covered in varieties of different florals stood several feet away from one another, lining the cobblestone road. Navy flags that held the North’s insignia blew in the light spring breeze. 

You stood a few feet away from the couple as they walked down the pathway that led to the festival grounds, waving at their people as they held hands. Dressed in ceremonial navy blue clothes and both adorned in their jeweled crowns, the couple made their way to the grassy field. You weren’t too far behind, but you wanted to give them a moment alone together, before their wedding festivities continued further. 

Smiling to yourself, you looked around the village to see the townspeople dressed in their best clothes, little children playing together in the streets as couples linked arms with one another, twirling until the dizziness took over. Other children held kites in their tiny grasps, running across the grassy field, ribbons floating along with the breeze. 

Observing how close the townspeople were, brought a warm feeling to you. Dancing with one another, hands linked together as the music began to filter into the air. Even the knight guard, still donned with their swords and armor pieces, found them to be more relaxed, indulging in some of the festivities.

Sam stood next to his sister and nephews, hands gripped onto their little ones as he danced with them on the street. Scott held his young daughter on his shoulders, smiling up at her as he handed her a little bundle of flowers. Pietro walked with Wanda as they eyed vendor booths that lined the grass.

With the Eastern Lands under new control, with a far more gentle ruler than the latter, Alexander Pierce, there was no threat to the Northern Lands. 

Arms wrapped around your waist, and you felt your feet lift off the ground. A surprised yelp passed through your lips, replaced with a smile as it etched its way onto your face. You gripped the arms that were latched around your waist. 

“Bucky,” you cried through laughter. Your shoulders shook with every laugh that passed through. He placed you back onto the grass and turned you into his arms, though he still kept his hold on your waist. You rated your hands upon the soft armor that sat on his chest. 

He gave you a cheeky smile and leaned down to kiss your cheek. “Don’t you look beautiful this fine afternoon.” 

Blue eyes trailed over the navy blue flowy dress Natasha dressed you in, over the headband that sat across your forehead that held the small jewel that hung in between your brows. Your wrist and fingers held silver jewelry and your back wore ceremonial clothes, representing your true home. 

His eyes flickered down to your neck, eyes widening as he began to unravel his arms from you. Your head tilted slightly, curious as to what he was doing. 

“I have something for you,” Bucky caught your eye and reached into his pockets, fishing around for the small little bag. 

Opening it, he dumped the content into his palm, your eyes landed on the silver chain and the rose pendant, and a gasp left your lips. The necklace Natasha had bought you when you first arrived in the North all those months ago.

It had been maliciously ripped off your neck during that night, and you thought it had been lost forever. 

“Oh my gods,” your eyes flicked up to his, a smile breaking out on your face. You could feel the tears start to form in your eyes, “How… where did you--”

He held the chain in his hands and held it over your chest, clasping it together. Ever so delicately, he laid the pendant on your chest, adjusting the chain so the clasp sat on the back of your neck. 

“I found it that night… and fixed the clasp for you.” His fingers trailed over the exposed skin of your sternum, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “I know how much you adore it.”

A tear slipped over your cheek, and you leapt into his arms, hands grasping his stubbled cheeks and brought his lips down onto yours. His arms wrapped back around your waist, and he lifted you off the ground. 

“Thank you,” you whispered against his lips. Bucky’s hand coaxed down your back, soothing in circles until you pulled back. You finally understood what it was like to be seen. And to be loved by someone unconditionally. 

He smiled down at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead before turning you around in his arms. You watched as Steve held Natasha’s hand as they made their way over to the cake that was rolled out to them. 

“I would do anything for you, sweet girl.” he whispered in your ear. You placed your hands over his, watching as the King and Queen fed each other their cake, smiling and laughing at a low volume, so they could only hear each other. 

The townspeople watched with admiration, cheering and applauding as the couple sweetly kissed each other. You felt happy for your dearest friend, knowing how sweet the king truly had been with her.

Hands gripped your flesh, and for the first time in nearly a decade, you did not flinch. You knew whose hands were laid on you. And you did not cower as you felt his hands grip your muscles, or as his hands slid from your waist down to your hands, softly encasing them into his own. 

He intertwined your fingers, lacing them within his own as his thumbs lightly traced over the raised skin, amongst the scars that covered your hands. This time, you did not try to cover them.

“I believe you owe me a dance, my lady,” he whispered in your ear, quietly in contrast to the loud festivities that took place mere feet away. His chest pressed against the fabric of your dress, though you could still feel the warmth that radiated through his own ceremonial clothes, through the thin cotton of your dress. 

Steve and Natasha began to make their way to the center of the field, hand in hand as did all the other couples in the kingdom. 

“I suppose I do,” you smiled at him, allowing him to lead you onto the field, amongst the other couples. He led you onto the field proudly. Some townspeople whispered amongst themselves, and to others.

But Bucky spared them no glance. He kept his gaze solely on you. He stood in front of you, winking at you before grabbing your hands, as all the others did. The music began to flow through the field, you held onto Bucky as he led you. 

Your feet moved together, so smoothly and swiftly, like you had danced with him before. The fear of stepping on his boot nearly consumed you, but you focused yourself on his eyes, never tearing yours away. 

His hands slipped up your back, over your shoulders and across your arms before grasping onto your hands. Glancing over, you saw Natasha and Steve , both nearly in a fit of giggles as they both held onto each other, moving with the natural way of each other. 

There was no dance ritual they were following, just relishing being in each other’s arms is all that mattered to them in the moment. You turned back to Bucky, smiling as his eyes were still settled on yours. 

Hands back on your waist, he lifted you into the air, twirling you around in the air. Your hands held onto his shoulders, and you couldn’t’ stop the laugh that passed through you. The hearty laugh that shook your shoulders, that made your stomach hurt.

Bucky lowered you back to the ground, wrapping one arm around your waist, the other grasping your hand as he fell into a light sway. You wrapped your arm around his neck and leaned your forehead against his, nose brushing up against his. 

In that moment did you let yourself live, no longer allowing yourself to be haunted by the memories of your past. You no longer would you let yourself be tortured by the horrors of them. 

Living the life you were meant to live. Where you could let yourself be free. Where you could go wherever you wished, to do with whomever you wanted. Alongside Natasha. 

Alongside Bucky.

It was a change that you could finally adjust into. 

One that would last forever. 

Anxiously waiting for the captain to return, praying to the gods above that he would return with you. If you hadn’t frozen to death. She stood at the window, dressed in a warm nightgown, overlooking the snowy mountains. 

“My love, please… you must rest,” Steve rested his hands on her shoulders. “It is nearing the early hours of the morning. It has been a harrowing night.”

She refused once more with the shake of her head. 

“I could not rest even if I wished for it,” she admitted, biting her lip. “Steve, I am worried about her. W-what if they haven’t found her… o-or she was taken to the next town over? What if she does not make-”

Steve gently shushed her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulled her against his chest. “Do not ask about the what if’s, my love. We must stay hopeful.”

Tears began to gather at her waterline. 

You had been nothing but a helpful sweetheart since the day she had found you in her village nearly two years ago. The look of fear that had covered your face the day when she had approached you with two of her guards, all made sense. 

You had been nothing but perfection, attending to her at her every need. And an even better companion the closer she got to you. She had no idea that you were a runaway from the Eastern kingdom.

Quiet and reserved, but the sweetest girl she had ever met.

She considered you to be the closest friend she had ever had. Growing up wealthy, she always had friends come and go, but you were the first to truly see her for who she truly was.

“My dearest friend is out there. With the same very monsters that plague her dreams. I’m terrified for her safety.”

Steve nodded, stroking his fingers through her hair, trying to soothe his new Queen. “As am I, love. But let me assure you, Bucky will not return without her.”  

Natasha turned around, a few tears falling down her cheeks. “She was just starting to feel comfortable. This has been the happiest I have ever seen her since… ever, really. She is much more than just my Lady… if it had not been for her bravery, it would be me in their grasp.”

Before she could say anything else, Steve pulled her tightly into a hug, rubbing his hand over her back. She relaxed in his hold, taking a deep breath in, and exhaling after a few seconds. 

“I have the utmost trust in Bucky. I have seen the way he is around her, there is no doubt–”

Suddenly, the doors burst open, the nightguard running into the room, eyes wide. Natasha whipped around, teary eyes wide.

“Your Majesty, Captain Barnes has been spotted. And he’s approaching quickly.”

Natasha’s eyes widened, as did Steve’s as the guard pointed to the window. The King and Queen both rushed over to see the familiar dark fur of Dahlia, racing through the snowy village. 

Faintly, she could see the figure that laid unmoving in the captain’s lap, wrapped in the thick knight guard’s cloak. 

Reaching for a cloak herself, Natasha threw one over her shoulders and nearly sprinted down the hall, racing for the courtyard. Steve was behind her, running as fast as her into the snowy courtyard. 

The freezing wind of the winter storm prickled at her skin, goosebumps lining the exposed parts of her body, though she paid no attention. 

In the dead of the night, the sounds of hooves clicking against the snow-capped cobblestone echoed across the courtyard. 

Steve pulled her back just as the gates flew open, a second later Dahlia flew into the courtyard at a pace that could rival that of a wild horse. The mare huffed through her nose, shaking the snow off the top of her head. 

From the saddle, Bucky sat with you, bundled in his cloak rested in his arms. Though when he made eye contact with both the King and Queen, his blue eyes were in a state of pure panic. 

Slipping his hands underneath your shoulders and knees, he held you securely in his arms before dismounting from Dahlia. You were limp, your natural color had been stripped from you, replaced with the ghostly complexion that took over. 

“The healer… we need the healer!” the King ordered. In seconds, servants and knight guards had cleared the way for the Captain 

Natasha covered her chest with her hand, eyes widened. 

Taking in your appearance nearly made her sick to her stomach. How pale you were, unresponsive to Bucky’s touches as he pressed into your shoulder. Your eyes were shut, your skin and lips several shades away from your natural complexion. 

Never mind the blood that covered the entire front of your dress. The dress she had made specifically for you, was covered in your own blood that was frozen over. 

Head limp against his shoulder, the captain didn’t waste any more time, as he sprinted into the warmth of the castle, not waiting for either royal to follow. 

He didn’t know where he was going; panic consumed his mind as he held you tighter against his chest. He could feel the cold starting to seep into his skin

Still, there was no movement from you. 

“Into her room, James.” A voice called out suddenly, and the knight turned around to see the palace healer run up to him, a bag of supplies in hand with three handmaidens behind, their hands filled with blankets -- anything to warm you up.

He followed without hesitation, moving his feet faster than before. Glancing down at you, he adjusted you in his arms, to try to rouse you, whispering your name against your ear. 

“Open your eyes, sweet girl,” he pleaded against your ear, though he received no response.

There was no movement from you.

Reaching towards the end of the corridor, the door to your chambers came into view,  and the handmaidens moved alongside the healer as he pushed the door open, instructing them to light the fire, and light every candle that was possible. 

Bucky placed you on the warmth of the bed, his hand gently held the back of your head and gingerly laid you on the bed. You were so motionless, so lifeless, it ate at the deepest part of his stomach. 

Head lolling against the pillows, your hand hung off the side of the bed, completely lifeless. Bucky choked back the lump in his throat as he gingerly rested your hand back onto the mattress.

He was hesitant to let you go, he didn’t want to. He wanted to warm you up himself. He knew you needed the proper care without him hovering. 

Before he removed himself, he held your cheek and pressed a kiss to the side of your head, lips lingering longer than a minute, before he tore himself away from you. 

Natasha took over his place as she sat in the corner of your room, watching silently as the handmaidens began to peel off the cloak and unravel the bloodied bandages at your wrists.

The knight nearly ran out of the room, not daring to look back at the healer, who began to dab a warm towel at your face, or the handmaiden’s, who began to remove your dress from your freezing skin. 

The King himself had questions, as he stood outside the door to your chambers, waiting for Bucky to remove himself from your room, and back into the corridor. 

As the room began to fill with the healer’s voice barking out orders, Steve shut the door gently before turning to his captain. 

“Where is Sam? Is he alright?” Steve asked, but Bucky began to walk further down the hall, and away from your chambers. Away from Steve.

But the knight could not hear him over the loud ringing in his ears, his heart beat rapidly against his chest. Panic began to take over, and his eyes screwed shut, chest heaving harshly up and down.

It felt like the summer heat, despite the biting, windy winter storm that raged outside. He leaned against the wall for support, grunting as he beat at the stone wall with a curled fist.

“Take deep breaths, brother. Deep breaths. In and out.” 

Steve clamped a hand on his shoulder, fingers digging deep into Bucky’s muscle. The knight ran a hand through his hair, gasping as he took deep breaths in, exhaling moments later. 

“They got into the castle…” Bucky gasped out, head hanging in shame. 

“Stop.” Steve pulled him up and looked at his knight. “It does not matter who is at fault, and it is not yours, Buck. What matters is you took action when they stormed the gate. You did not stand idly by as they attacked, you bought time for Y/n to rush Natasha to safety. What she did, guiding them away from Nat was her decision that she made to protect her. Regardless, you still went after her, in the middle of a storm and returned with her in a mere couple of hours. Do not blame yourself at all, Buck.” 

Bucky nodded, wiping his hands over his face before sharply exhaling. 

“Sam? Where is he?”

“He should be riding in shortly,” Bucky replied, ghosting his hands over the scrape on his cheek from when he had been hit by the tree branch. “with Rumlow in tow.”

Steve looked over at him, piquing interest at the only name.

“Three men went into the forest.” 

He looked over at Steve, and the worry that once occupied cerulean eyes was now replaced with a blank stare, one filled with remorselessness. 

His eyes held a look that Steve had seen many times after the war; blank eyes, almost disassociating. 

“Bucky.” 

One was floating in icy waters, forever frozen, and the other’s body laid lost beneath the snow. 

“Dead. Both of them” 

Silence filled the corridor, save for the beating wind that raged outside. Steve remained silent for a moment, until Bucky spoke again. 

“One of them ended up in the lake,” he lifted his gaze up to meet Steve’s, expecting disappointment behind his eyes. “The other one… I snapped his neck.” 

A sight he could never truly get out of his head. That of his former adversary towering over you, a knife ready to pierce your skin. 

“He was going to kill her. And instead, I killed him.” Bucky said, leaning his head against the brick wall. 

Silence filled the empty corridor, and for a moment Steve said nothing in response to Bucky, opting to stare at the ground for a few moments. Bucky unclasped his belt, and the clang of his metal sword echoed. 

“I had already failed her once today, I did not dare to fail her once more” Bucky’s voice began to tremble slightly. “I never kill unless I have to. A-and in that moment, it was either going to be him or her. I did what I had to do.”

Steve’s eyes softened as he watched Bucky lean forward and run his hands down his face. His cheek was covered in little scratches, the king noticed as he took in Bucky’s exhausted form. 

“You should get your face cleaned up,” Steve commented after another beat of silence, gesturing to his cheek. “Wouldn’t want that to get infected.”

Bucky was silent for a moment. 

In truth, he did not feel okay in the slightest; the guilt began to eat away at him. But the fear of losing you trumped over everything else in his mind. He would not truly be at rest until you were okay. He may have been fine physically, but he was nowhere near okay in his mind.

But even then, the guilt would lay on him for months to come.

“I’m fine.” 

Steve sighed and nodded. There was no use in putting up a fight.

He held his hand out, beckoning for Bucky to stand with him, in which he obliged, clasping onto Steve’s wrist as he hoisted himself back on his feet. 

“I have faith that she will make it.” Steve said, with a small, but hopeful smile. 

Bucky was about to open his mouth to respond, when the doors to the corridor opened suddenly, and Peter came through the door. 

The young squire looked as though he had gone up against the whole army himself; scrapes and knicks covered his face, bruises that had started to form over his skin. 

But still, he remained standing, even at the early hours of the morning.

“Lieutenant Wilson has been spotted, Captain,” he panted, nearly out of breath. “He is approaching quickly… with something being dragged it looked like.” 

Steve looked over at Bucky, who simply shrugged. The King and Captain followed the young squire across the hall, towards the terrace that overlooked the courtyard, just as the front gates to the palace opened 

“More like someone.” Peter craned his neck to catch a glimpse of the figure that was dragged across the snowy ground behind Sam’s horse. 

A bundle of thrashing, trying to fight the ropes that bounded his wrists tightly. 

“Release me at once! You have no right!” Brock Rumlow’s screams filled the night air.

He had not one problem bringing pain and suffering upon you, Bucky had no problem bringing the same suffering onto him. 

“What shall we do with him, Captain?” Peter asked, observing as Sam dismounted off his horse, and moved toward the prince, who was resisting against Sam. 

If it were entirely up to Bucky, he would have opted to let him suffer and freeze to death. Even then, that would not be punishment enough for the crimes he had committed not only against the kingdom, but to you.

The scars that come from his wickedness. The fear that still lingered in you. Night terrors that grabbed at you in the dead of night. 

“Bring him below.” Bucky spoke after a moment. “I will deal with him myself.”

--- 

The dungeons were an entirely different environment from the palace above.

From above, the walls were lined with colorful portraits and decor that was welcoming. The dungeons were cold, dark and depressing. 

Only used for the worst of the worst that came through the kingdom. It was rare that it was ever used, as not much havoc went on in the Northern Lands. Not until these past few days. 

Not until the tyrannical maniacs who had tried to stage a coup.

In the middle of the room was Rumlow, hands chained together in front of him. His bloodied and broken nose and bruised face from when Bucky had kicked him in the face shined under the candlelight throughout the prison cell. 

The doors to the dungeon suddenly unlocked, and slowly did the doors creak open as the Captain made his way into the room, followed by his Lieutenant and the squire. 

Not one more. Not one less. 

“Where is my cousin?!” Rumlow’s voice echoed throughout the prison. He thrashed in his bonds, chains rattling as he fought the metal that dug into his skin. “I’ll have you hanged for this, Barnes!”

Bucky stepped forward, out from the shadows of the prison cell. He stepped forward, walking towards the chained prince in the center. 

“You are going to hang me for killing your cousin after the three of you, plus your father, staged a coup to overtake the kingdom? Is that what I am hearing correctly?” Bucky looked towards his second in command. “Now Lieutenant Wilson, does that sound like it is against the Treaty the North and the East signed after the war ended?”

Sam nodded. “Sure does to me.”

“And my dear young squire Peter… do you have any knowledge on what happens when a treaty’s laws are disobeyed by one of the parties?”

The young boy looked at his commander, then back to Sam. He gave him a light nod, and the young boy spoke up. “Punishable by exile… or death. Whichever the Crown chooses.”

Bucky turned towards the chained prisoner, eyes narrowing in on him. 

“You are a fool if you think anyone but you and your father will face consequences for the actions that happened this night.” Bucky gripped the sides of the chair that Rumlow sat in, sneering at him as he got closer to his face. 

The Prince scoffed and looked around the prison cell, jiggling the chains that wrapped around his wrists. His cold brown eyes locked onto Bucky’s blue eyes. Blood seeped down his chin from his nose. 

“There is no way out, Rumlow.” Bucky warned. 

Twitching in anger, the prince balled his hands into fists, muttering quietly under his breath. Nothing had gone according to his plan. 

So, instead, he picked a dangerous bone with Bucky. The minute your name fell from his lips, he damn near lost control. 

“Has Y/n ever told you what I really did to her?”

Bucky could feel his heart nearly skip a beat at the sound of your name. Though in his mind, he had felt the rage and anger start to rise, he kept his posture and expression to be neutral. 

Though he could only control himself for so long, as the prince continued on his tangent. “All those scars she has… comes from yours truly. And to see she still wears those scars, brings me an abundance of joy. I took the liberty of adding one more to that little pretty face of hers.”

Bucky took several steps back, turning around to hide the rage that he could no longer mask. His hands formed into fists, and began to quiver from the rage that threatened to consume him. 

“Some women need to be reprimanded physically. How is the bitch anyways? Nearly frozen to death, I hope.” 

Bucky turned back to the prince, taking no more than a few steps towards him. He leaned forward and punched in across the face, knuckles digging into his cheekbone. 

His teeth were covered in blood, dripping from his nose, down into his mouth and spilling over his chin.

“Oh, how I miss the days where I could just beat and torment her all day. Wrapping my hands around her throat until she succumbs to the darkness. To see how much the bitch could take.” 

With nothing more to add, the spoiled rotten prince hawked a glob of blood directly at Bucky’s face. 

Before he could smirk at his little stunt, Bucky lunged and punched him hard in the face once more, before he grabbed him by the throat, tore him from his seat and slammed him down on the damp-stoned floors harshly. His head smacked against the cement floors, and Bucky’s grip around Rumlow’s neck was tight, unyielding as he leaned forward, merely inches away from the prince’s face. 

“Keep running your mouth about her… and I’ll gladly snap your neck just like I did your cousin’s.” Panic filled Rumlow’s eyes, choked sounds  emitted from him as his face began to turn red. He pounded his chained hands against Bucky’s chest plate, but to no avail did the knight release his grip.

Veins building, skin red and sweaty, Bucky did not let go. Not when he saw the ring of darkening skin around your neck. Not when the man who laid his hands upon you in a violent manner, struggled under his own grasp. 

It ailed Bucky to think that you had been on the opposite side of a situation much like this for years on end, though for a few moments, it had brought a sliver of satisfaction to see the man who haunted your dreams, who had tormented you relentlessly every day, be at the mercy of himself.

The same very man that had scarred you, that had haunted your dreams, now began to struggle under Bucky’s grasp.

“Go on,” Bucky hissed into his ear, almost encouragingly. “Say something else about her.”

His grip suddenly released, and the prince coughed and gasped, spitting up the blood that still lingered in his mouth. 

Bucky leaned forward, closer to his face. “That’s exactly what I thought. Now where is your father hiding?”

Dark eyes glared back at the knight. 

“I know he’s hiding in the village, and you know where he is.”

Choking up his own blood, Rumlow turned his head to the spit, letting it drool from his mouth, until he was able to speak again. “Why should I tell you anything?”

Another punch landed against his already broken nose. A frustrated scream passed through Rumlow’s lips. “Aah! You bastard!"

Bucky stood from the ground, grabbing Rumlow by his collar and shoved him back into his chair again. 

“You have nothing left to lose. Your cousin is dead, your most trusted knight guard is also dead. And your father is going to have the same fate as you.” 

With no attempt to speak, Rumlow remained silent in his chair. 

“Tell me, or I cut you in the same ways you have scarred her.” Bucky brandished a long, jagged knife and pointed it towards the prince. “Your choice.”

For the first time that night, Brock Rumlow had faltered in his stance, his exterior beginning to crack. A helpless look to Peter and Sam did nothing to help him. 

With nowhere else to look to, Rumlow moved his eyes back to Bucky before he confessed. 

---

Warmth was the first thing you felt when your eyes began to flutter open..

There was a weight on top of you that you felt as your head moved, half-lidded eyes surveying the room you laid in. 

It wasn’t the cold vice grip of Quentin or Brock. It wasn’t bitterly cold, not as frigid as that night in the forest. It was warm and cozy.

Memories of Dahlia galloping as fast as her legs could go, The echoes of his voice desperately calling your name rang around in your head. His breath against your cheek as he shielded you from the raging cold.

Stay with me, sweetheart. Just a little bit longer.

Bits of memories slowly came back to you in flashes; Quentin and Brock’s daunting threats still lingered in your mind, amidst the howling of the wind from outside. . 

She has no purpose for you.

“Y/n?” A voice began to call you. It was smooth, soft and gentle.One that felt familiar 

Delicate hands found your face, and on instinct, you jerked your head back into the pillows. Heavy breaths left you as your eyes began to open fully. Your body was sore, aching in places you had never felt before. 

A pained whimper escaped through your lips, the jerking action had jostled your very tender, very sensitive side from when you had been kicked off the horse. You could feel the bandages that were wrapped underneath the fleece nightgown you found yourself in.

“Honey, it is just me, Natasha… I’m here.” 

Natasha. 

Her voice was the calm in the storm that swirled and scavenged your mind. Slowly, you began to blink, ridding the blurriness that cleared from your sight . She reached out once more, and this time you did not pull away. You let her place her hands in your bandaged ones. 

Blankets covered your You then noticed that the healer had cleaned out the cut on your cheekbone, placed wrappings around your wrists and neck, even beneath your dress with a cool salve to heal the bruising that covered your body.

“You have given everyone quite the scare…” she whispered as you looked around your room. You were still disoriented, eyes still adjusting to the sheer brightness. It was day time, though the hues of grey clouds casted a brightness into your room. 

“Nat?” your voice was small and scratchy, and it still ached to speak. 

She shushed you, moving to sit on the edge of your bed. With her aide, she adjusted the pillows and helped you so that you were sitting slightly up. She sensed the confusion written on your face, and squeezed your hand lightly. 

“Captain Barnes rescued you. We were not sure how soon you would wake… if you would wake at all.” You looked over at her in confusion. “He brought you home nearly five nights ago, honey. 

“Bucky?” you whispered, and she nodded. 

“He is fine. He’s attaining his duties to ensure the palace is safe and secure. To ensure that no one else is lingering in the village.”

You nodded, leaning your head back against the pillows. The dress you wore that night hung in the corner of your chamber, discolored with your dried blood that nearly covered its entirety. 

“It was extremely dangerous… what you did.” She spoke after a few moments of silence had passed. You looked over at her, “You were a fool to do that, Y/n. Y-you could have been killed… or worse.”

Worse. They could have been successful, and carted you back to the Eastern Kingdom, where your fate would be sealed. 

Tears were present in her waterline as she scooted closer to you. “You were unconscious for five nights, Y/n… I was not sure if you were ever going to wake again.”

You squeezed her hand back, with all the strength you had left. 

“I could not let them take you,” you said, despite the pain in your throat. “I would not let them hurt you the way they have hurt me.”

Natasha leaned forward and tightened her hold on your hand, bringing it up to hold to her chest. There had never been a day since meeting her that she made you feel any less of yourself. She never flaunted her status, or thought herself to be higher than you. 

She treated you like an equal. The first person to ever treat you as if you were more than a servant. It was her that you were introduced to kindness and warmth as she welcomed you into her home those few years ago. 

Here she was, for five nights she sat by your bedside awaiting your 

“Oh, my heart.” A tear fell down her cheek as she held you, as gently as she could. Your hand trembled as it rested on her back, eyes fluttering close. “I was so worried about you.”

For the moment, it was just the two of you, wrapped in each other’s embrace, Natasha smoothing her hand over your head soothingly. Quentin’s taunts slowly left your body the tighter she held you. She let go after a few minutes, hands gently coaxing down your shoulders and arms. 

Natasha looked over to the handmaiden that stood at the door. “Please, will you fetch my husband if he is not too busy.”

The maiden nodded before exiting out of the room. 

“Do you need anything?” Natasha asked after a moment of silence. 

You shook your head, resting your head back. There was a slight pounding that was still present 

Before you knew it, the King himself had made his way into your room, followed by the young Peter Parker. Natasha stood up to greet her husband, as he made his way towards your bed. 

Your eyes landed on the king, and to your ebay ability, you tried to push yourself up. But before you could press your hands against the mattress, Natasha shushed you and gently pushed you back down. 

“You will do no such thing, Y/n. Not when you’re still  in this condition.” she warned, and you sheepishly smiled. 

Steve came to your bedside, kneeling down so that he was within your eye level. He took your hand in his own, and squeezed tightly. 

“Y/n… I am so happy to see that you are awake. We have all been worried sick.” The King was gentle as he spoke with you. “I have some hopefully good news for you.” Your eyes looked into his as he offered you a smile. 

“In the five days you have been out for, Alexander Pierce had been apprehended and brought to the dungeon, where he and his son were charged and tried for high treason and kidnapping.”

You were shocked, and you could feel your heartbeat pick up at the sound of your old ruler’s name. Though, relief slowly came over you. 

Justice had finally come for them. Justice prevailed for you, for the years of abuse. Of being scarred to no ends, the emotional, physical and mental abuse you had faced for years and years had finally come to an end. 

“They will never harm you again.” 

You were too relieved to notice the tears that filled your eyes and spilled over your waterline. You sniffled and squeezed his hand tightly. 

“And I cannot express my gratitude in saving my beloved that fateful night,” Steve looked over at his newly wedded wife, a smile found its way across his face. “Because of you, she is safe.” 

Natasha leaned forward and gently wiped your tears away. 

“I could not bear to live without my dearest friend,” you croaked out, before releasing an exhausted yawn. 

Natasha adjusted the blanket over your body and placed a kiss on your forehead. Your eyes fluttered for a moment before Peter came up beside you.

“I hope you are feeling better, my lady.” The young boy was filled with an innocence that you adored. A smile spread across your face and the young squire reached out his hand and gently squeezed your shoulder. 

“Come, Peter. Lady Y/n needs her rest.” Steve gently beckoned, and the young boy nodded, gave you one last smile before taking his place near the King. 

Natasha fluffed your pillows, filled the mug on your bedside with water, and closed the curtains. “Rest up, my dearest.”  

Her voice sweetly called before you were lulled back to a dreamless sleep.

---

Five nights had passed since Bucky had laid you on the bed that fateful night.

The last he saw of you was when he had placed your frail body on the mattress, when he forced himself back so you could get all the help that was needed. 

He only wanted to lay by your side, to heal you, warm you up. To clean the blood that was frozen to your skin.

When the news of you waking up had reached him, he wanted to drop everything and run to your side. To make reparations to what his distracted mind had caused. Still, he had a duty to maintain as Captain.  

Starting off with the damages done to the castle, which were not as much as he was expecting. Full on riots had broken out, yet there was only minimal damage done to the inside of the palace and the ball rooms. 

Fortunately, there wouldn’t be that much fixing for the palace. 

It was nightfall, and only four days after the royal wedding did the rainstorm come in. Thunder occasionally rolled, and lightning flashed only for a moment, but it gave the dark corridor some light shown. 

Bucky stood in the darkness, facing the door of your chambers, his hand hovering over the doorknob. He hesitated for a moment, fidgeting in his steps. 

He had gotten the word that you had awoken a couple hours ago, all the while he had been busy dealing with the punishment of Alexander Pierce and Brock Rumlow. Jack Rollins and Quentin Beck were both dead, and Bucky had no remorse for the life he had taken that night in the forest. 

Now the remaining prince and king were on their way to a life of exile and shunning, he was hoping that would bring you some comfort and relief.

Pushing the door open, he was met with a wave of warmth, coming from the fire that was lit in the corner of the room. He quickly shut the door, keen on not letting any of the warmth escape. 

A rustle in the sheets grabbed his attention as his eyes flickered over to the bed. The room was dark, save for the candles that were lit, and the orange glow of the fire that casted a light over your sleeping figure. 

Quiet in his steps, he made his way over to your bedside, sitting down on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped under his weight, 

You slept soundly in the sheets, bundled in blankets and covers, dressed in a thick fleece night gown that hid the bandages that covered your wrists. 

Clean from all the blood that once covered your skin, 

Tremors slightly racked through your body, your arms and hands quivering where they laid. Color had been returned to your face over the past days, and warmth had slowly begun to return to your body.

Eyes closed and even breathing, Bucky reached out and slid your hand into his. He was beyond grateful that he had found you in the forest, alive. Though the injuries that had covered you almost entirely, here you were, still here with a beating heart. 

He held your hand tightly in his, leaning down to press a warm kiss against the back of your hand. 

The fire crackled, the room fell into a comfortable silence as Bucky leaned forward and ran his hand over the top of your head, thumb trailing over your forehead. A little cool to the touch, but not as cold as you were when he first placed you on the bed days ago. 

The wind howled outside, raindrops beating up against the window, though Bucky kept his eyes solely on you. His hand caressed over your head, thumb trailing over the bandages that covered your skin.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner.” he whispered.

He gnawed on his lip, the feeling of guilt suddenly began to rush through him. This would never have happened if he had just kept his guard up, if he had surveilled the palace grounds as guests piled into the ballroom.

Bucky was too torn in his thoughts, he hadn’t noticed how you were starting to rouse a bit. 

Heavy eyelids fluttered open, and you looked towards the pressure that sat near your head. Your body still ached everywhere, but all the pain seemed to disappear when your eyes landed on him. 

“James,” your voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, still a bit strained. 

Bucky’s eyes locked onto yours for a moment, before he moved closer to you, hands gingerly holding your face. 

He brushed his hand over your hair once more, caressing the back of your head. He leaned in and pressed his lips against your cheek. 

“Hi, sweet girl.”

You swallowed thickly, wincing at the swollenness of your throat. “You’re… here.”

Bucky nodded, looking down at you, caressing the top of your head. 

Through tired eyes, you looked up at him, taking in his ragged appearance; bags underneath his blue eyes, disheveled hair, chapped lips. He had worried himself about you these past days, he hadn’t taken care of himself. 

He had been too preoccupied with them, he knew if he looked at you, the anger and fury he had been hiding would take over. He kept himself away from you, to give you the time to rest and let the healers take care of your injuries. 

“I’m right here, sweet girl. I’m not going anywhere.” 

Bucky huffed a small laugh and nodded, stroking the side of your face, his finger trailing over your cheek. Tears began to well in your eyes. 

The knight reached for your hand and peppered kisses to the back of your hand. You noticed the red, scabbed skin that covered his knuckles. When his eyes landed on yours, he gave you a small smile. “Don’t worry about me, honey.”

He stroked your hair, leaning his forehead against yours. He was careful of the bandages that crossed the bridge of your nose. The swelling near your eyes had gone down significantly, he noticed.

Your eyes met his, observing him quietly as he gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. His thumb trailed down the side of your face, gently ghosting over the bandage across your cheekbone. 

“Are you comfortable?” he asked, adjusting your blankets to be tighter. 

Nodding, teary eyes still focused on him. “I missed you.”

Bucky nearly crumbled at your words, pressing a kiss against your cheek. 

All of this would have never happened if he had just kept his mind focused on doing his job. Despite the fact that he had guards posted at every door and window in the entire castle, his efforts never would have stopped the small army that crashed through the gates. 

Though none of the townspeople had been fatally wounded, he had still failed to protect the people in his kingdom. He had failed to protect the Queen and ultimately you, forcing you to take drastic measures to give yourself up instead of the one they sought out for.

Steve would never place blame on his captain, knowing that there were far too many Eastern soldiers that had made their way into the palace, and his knightguard would have been outnumbered. It did not take much to influence the young boys and men of the Eastern kingdom. 

But that didn’t stop the guilt that ate at him nearly every single day.

He had promised that they would never lay another finger on you as they rotted levels below the palace, but yet here you laid, bruises caused by the man who rotted in the mildew cells below.  

“I missed you so much,” he whispered as he dropped his head against your shoulder. “I-I’m so sorry I wasn’t here with you earlier.”

The marks on his hands were proof of that. He had been far too occupied with many things: down in the dungeons dealing with his former combatant,  making sure every villager was accounted for and safe, checking in on Pietro to see how he was healing.

That night would forever live on in Bucky’s mind.  

“You’re… here now.” 

He winced at the roughness that lingered in your voice, pulling his head back up. He had seen how bad the bruises were that snowy night in the forest. He had hoped the handprint shaped bruise would fade in the next week. 

“I am. I am here, I promi--” his words stumbled at the end. 

Promise. 

The last promise he had made was broken by his own foolish negligence. The one thing he had sworn would never happen again… happened. The demons from your nightmares, from your past had come back viciously, nearly killing you in the middle of the wintry, frigid forest. 

Hypothermic, beaten, bloody. 

You had been the most gentle soul that he had ever come into contact with, a personality so gentle, so caring that he could not believe that you were still as pure as you were, given your horrific traumatic past.

He feared he would never get over the feeling that had nearly drowned him the past few days.

“I’m so sorry I failed you,” You burrowed your eyes in confusion, watching as his head dipped again, “I promised you time and time again that I would never let them hurt you again…yet I failed to keep my promise to you.”

You watched the tears line his eyes, and you reached your hand out, fingers ever so gently grasping onto his tunic, and his hand covered yours. His grip over your hand was strong, but delicate as he caressed your skin.

Even in his desperate attempt to get you away from harm, when he had pushed you out of the direct line of an Eastern soldier, his grip was always gentle.

This time, despite the light aching that remained in your throat, you spoke with a firmer tone, “I am here… because of you, Bucky.”

He looked at you, still, with the guilt that had been gnawing at the insides of his mind, unrelenting and unbreaking. With a deep breath, you held his shirt in a tighter grip, weakly beckoning him closer to you. 

“I am lying here, because you came…  to find me.” Your speech was still a little slow, but the healer had assured you it was nothing to fret over. It was from his strong grip over your neck that made speaking a little more difficult. “P-please, do not blame yourself for their actions.”

Bucky held your face in his hands, gently caressing his thumbs over both of your cheeks, gazing down at you. “Please… for me.”

He nodded over and over, leaning his head against yours. “I promise, sweet girl.”

This time he didn’t shy away from the word. You would never be able to hold a grudge against anyone, let alone him. 

Bucky held you in his grasp, leaned down and pressed his lips against yours. His fingers moved down to the back of your neck as his thumbs caressed over your cheek. The grip you had on his shirt loosened for a moment, you spread out your hand to feel his heart beating quickly.

His kisses brought a sense of comfort and security to you. Whenever he had you in his grasp, he made you feel safer than you had ever been. 

Longing to be closer to him, you made a foolish decision to try to lift yourself up, but the pain from before suddenly flared up. You had tried to stifle the pained whimper against his lips, but he knew something was wrong.

He pulled away from you instantly, eyes flickering over your body. 

Eyes clenched shut, you tried to steady yourself, taking deep breaths. Tears slipped down your cheeks gasping in pain as the pain flared near your ribs, and his hand gently pushed your shoulders to lay back down.

“Easy, take it easy honey.” Bucky whispered, gently soothing you as your head pressed against the pillows. “What do you need, sweetheart?"

Shaking your head, the pain had suddenly flared up near your ribs. For a moment, you had forgotten the bandages that covered your midsection, just under your bust. 

“N-nothing… it’s just a little cold.” you whispered, though you hadn’t been completely truthful. 

The truth was that you were still in a great amount of pain days later.  Your ribs and feet hurt the most, the rest of your body was just sore. The medicinal tea that the healer had made you had improved your throat, though embedded into your skin was the bruise of his hand hidden underneath the wraps of bandages. 

“You cannot hide your pain from me anymore, sweet girl,” Bucky said after a moment of adjusting your position on the bed. The strength had not returned to you yet, and it probably wouldn’t for the next few weeks. “What hurts?”

Deep breaths in through your nose and out through your mouth, Bucky gently guided you as the pain subsided for just a moment, allowing you to situate yourself more comfortably. He rubbed his hand down your arm, gently grasping your hand. 

“I’m okay.” you assured him. Though, he still didn’t quite believe you. His eyes flickered over yours for only a moment, before you folded under his gaze. “My s-side.”

You gestured, nearing where Brock had violently pushed you off the horse, landing on the very dense tree trunk hidden in the snow. 

“He… he pushed me.” Bucky’s eyes shot to you in an instant. His hands moved up your arms as your eyes began to fill with tears. “I thought they were going to kill me.”

Tears flowed down your cheeks, sniffling as the memories suddenly came back at you. Bucky gently brought his hands to your cheeks and darted his thumb out, wiping your tears away. 

“They did not succeed… because you did not give them the chance.” he whispered to you, keeping your eyes on him. “You fought and you got away. That was all you, sweet girl.”

Bucky was grateful for the fight that was still in you that night. The will to live had surfaced through all the terrifying memories, despite the power difference. You got away. 

You got yourself away. 

Lips pressed against your forehead, he gave you a small smile, quickly adjusting the blanket around your shivering form. 

Another beat of silence passed between the two of you, the only sound that filled the room was that of the fire crackling. 

“Are you still too cold?” Bucky asked after a moment later, grasping onto your hands. 

When he saw your nod, he made a move on taking the leather pauldron guards that sat over his shoulders, as well as the belt that held the sheath to his sword among other things. 

“I can warm you up,” he whispered softly into your ear. 

There was really only one way that he would warm you up, and it was with his skin pressed to yours. 

He would see them one way or another, you thought to yourself. 

You nodded after a beat of silence. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the back of your neck, before his hands found the top button of his own tunic. He undid the buttons on his own shirt, revealing the light bruises that covered his own chest from the fight. 

Bucky lied down beside you, ever so gently grasping your shoulders. In a swift move, he gently leaned you on your side for just a moment while he began to unbutton your night gown. 

Sucking in a gasp from the sudden jostle, Bucky waited until you nodded before he unlooped the creme colored fabric. 

You shivered gently as his fingers ghosted over your bare back. Over the raised skin. Goosebumps raised suddenly the further his knuckles cascaded down your back.

His eyes were suddenly focused on the mass of scars that covered your shoulders down to your mid-back where he had stopped unbuttoning, circular marks that only belonged to the butt of a cigar. He felt sick to his stomach, and his hand hovered over your bare shoulder for just a moment before he grasped you. 

In one fluid motion, he pressed the warmth of his chest against your bare back. You trembled, eyes fluttering closed as his warm chest pressed against your cool back. Strong arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his chest. 

“Just relax, sweet girl,” he whispered in your ear, eliciting goosebumps from you. 

His arms ran over your arms, down to your hands, where his fingers lightly ghosted over the raised skin that ran over the back of your hands.  

“I swear on my own life, I will never let anyone mark you again.” 

This time, he would keep his promise till his last breath.

Nodding, you melted into his embracement as his strong arms held you anchored to his chest. You had been shaking before, shivering from the cold that still lingered in your body, but the comforting warmth of his chest had relaxed your body significantly. The warmth had slowly begun to bring more feeling back into your hands and legs.

“Better?” he whispered against your ear. 

You nodded your head slowly. The injuries you had sustained that night still had caused you pain, but being in his arms, his strong yet gentle hold that he had on you, it made the pain a bit more manageable.

The room fell into a comfortable stillness. Bucky continued to hold you tight to his chest, caressing circles into your shoulder. Fingertips dancing along the raised skin that stemmed down to your back. 

No one would ever scar you again. He would make sure of it. 

“I love you, Bucky.” you whispered in the silence of the room. You could feel his breath upon the bare skin of your shoulder before his lips dragged from the top of your shoulder to the base of your neck. 

“You already know that I love you.” he whispered against the shell of your ear. You held onto his arms as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

The warmth had started to ease back into your body, and you were teetering on the edge of sleep, eyes nearly closed all the way. Your head fell back into Bucky’s shoulder, soft hums passing through your lips. 

But before you could slip into the abyss of sleep, you peered an eye open. 

“Bucky?” He hummed in response. “What will happen to them?”

He lifted his head up and caught your eye. His finger slowly caressed over the frown in your brows. 

“They will be marooned to an island far away from the mainland. And they will never be able to make their way to you ever again.” 

He leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours, holding you as close as he possibly could. There was a confidence in his words, one that he was positive in. One that you also believed in. 

Finally, you believed that everything would be okay. 

Finally, you could be at ease and rest. 

“Go! Get out of here! I will find you later, I promise!” Bucky watched as you scrambled to grab Natasha and run out of the room, dragging the Queen behind. 

The knight stood watching, a moment too long as he suddenly felt a fist connect with his face as he was torn out of his reverie. Not a moment was wasted as Bucky gripped his sword tightly and striked the soldier’s arm, kicking him across the room.

More had swept into the room, and Bucky gripped his sword tighter before charging with a yell, one that was filled with anger and frustration. 

A fury had swept through him, he didn’t care how badly he injured them, where his sword met flesh. Wiping the blood away from his nose, Bucky straightened up, looking for any other soldiers that may barrel through the doors. 

He sheathed his sword and  wiped at his face, brushing away the blood that oozed from the cuts and scrapes across his face. The only sounds heard were his own knight guards directing other maids and servants, guiding them in wherever they were needed. 

And the rushing footsteps, belonging to Goldman, who wore a panicked look on his face. 

One that didn’t settle with Bucky. 

“Captain!” The knight was nearly out of breath by the time he had reached Bucky. “Intruders… in the castle.” 

Bucky’s eyes narrowed in annoyance, searching around the ballroom for any soldiers that may still have been alive, but they all laid deathly still. 

“Think we’re a little past that, do you?” the captain snapped, gesturing to the mess around them. His eyes had begun to wander around the ballroom, looking at all the bodies that laid around. No guest or servant had  seemed to be harmed, a good thing in the captain’s eyes. 

“Lady Y/n…” Bucky whipped around at the sound of your name, eyes as wide as can be. “It is Brock Rumlow and Quentin Beck who have her, sir. But there’s still no sign of the Queen.”

“Y/n?” His throat suddenly went dry.

“Captain, she is not well. She is-”

Fear was immediately washed over, replaced with anger. Red, hot fury clouded his vision, jaw suddenly wired tight.  

Before he knew it, he was sprinting down the hall, disregarding the knight that had delivered the news. He didn’t stop, he couldn’t stop. The victor hall was nearly halfway across the castle from where the ballroom was, but nothing could halt Bucky in his movements. 

For a moment, he could have sworn his heart stopped beating for a moment. Fear was not an emotion he was accustomed to, but when your name fell from the knight’s lips, it devoured him. 

The knight was unable to finish his sentence as Bucky had sprinted out of the ballroom and ran as fast as he could to the victor hall, nothing but anger and terror scourged through him. Your fears, your nightmares had become a reality.

He had spent countless nights comforting you from the demons that plagued your dreams, spent countless days reminding you to let yourself be at ease. 

And yet he had let them into the palace.

He could hear the echoes of screams, who’s scream they were, he could not decipher. Just as he made his way to where Sam sat, shouting orders at other knights, Bucky suddenly noticed the banging of one of the hidden rooms. 

“Y/n! Anyone, please!” A muffled voice, laced with pure terror, horror. 

The Queen. Natasha. 

Bucky swiftly moved the table blocking the door with one smooth kick and unlocked the door, letting Natasha out. The bride stormed out of the room, emerald eyes wide with fear, terror and panic. 

“Your Highness, are you alright? Are you inju-”

“Y/n… Captain, where is Y/n?!” Natasha cried out,  her eyes were filled with nothing but pure panic. “She locked me in there during the riots, and-and then I heard her scream. Where is she, Bucky?!”

Bucky didn’t know. He didn’t know where you were, if they truly had taken you away, wherever they had taken you. Everything was too much, there was too much happening. 

“I… I...” Bucky had never been at a loss for words, let alone in front of a monarch.

Tears had begun to well into her eyes as realization dawned on her. “Oh, my poor lady.” 

“Captain!”

Bucky tore his eyes away from the Queen and turned to see Sam pressing the heel of his hand into Pietro’s shoulder. A guilt stricken look on his face answered the question. Before he could even register, a group of handmaidens had wheeled in a cart, stepping back to allow the knights to hoist Pietro, resting him on the flat surface and carting him away, towards the healers.

“Which way did he go?”

“Into the forest. I presume Pierce is somewhere lurking in the village.” Sam clenched his eyes, chin rested against his metal chest plate. “I let them get away.”

“No.” Bucky shook his head and offered a hand to his second in command. “There’s no point in placing blame now, brother. I had my guard down and failed to do a perimeter check.”

“Natasha!” Her head had looked down the hall and saw Steve run up to her and engulf her in a nearly bone crushing hug. She had wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.

Bucky glanced over at the royal couple, throat tightened as the two engulfed each other in a tight embrace, the sound of their light whispers of reassurance.

“I’m going after them.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “There’s a storm coming in, Buck. The odds of even finding them, let alone tracking-”

“I do not care how cold it is. I do not care what terrain I have to cross. I do not care if I come back with frostbite or not. I do not care about anything until she is safe, back in this castle. My only priority is to bring her home.”

This was your home, and he’d let hell freeze over before they let them take you. 

“Come with me or don’t, but you’re not stopping me.”

The Captain had begun to make his way down the corridor until something caught the corner of his eye. He looked down to see the broken necklace, the familiar rose pendant covered in crimson 

He was going to bring you home, by any means necessary.  

---

It was freezing. 

Not the type of cold that prickled at your skin and made goosebumps arise. Nor the type of cold that was comfortable. 

It was frigid, so cold that you could feel it in your bones, stinging. Tremors racked through your body, albeit weak and slow. The faint sounds of arguing had begun to clear as you started to come to. It was so cold, and everything hurt. Gods, everything hurt so bad. 

You were propped up, head leaned back over someone’s shoulder, arms placed in front of you on your lap. Your memory was very foggy; you faintly remember dragging Nat away and pushing her into the room, getting pushed up against the wall, and then nothing. 

Panicked eyes flew open and sharp gasp flew out of your mouth, wincing as the cold air hit your lungs. It was so cold. The wind slapped you harshly in the face, and it took you a moment to take in your surroundings.

Snowy trees stood everywhere, roots uplifting, though it was hard to see when buried in the snow. A light fog had begun to seep into the forest, making it hard to see clearly. The wind had begun to pick up, the frigid air nipped at your bare skin. 

Not that you could see anyways. Dark spots covered your vision, creeping slowly at the edges. It hurt to breathe, not only from the frigid air, but from the asphyxiation you had suffered from earlier. 

“Well, look who’s awake. The stowaway is finally on her way back to where she belongs.” Quentin taunted quietly in your ear. 

You said nothing and remained silent. Grant Ward had been silently watching you from behind, eyes narrowed.

“No one is coming for you. She has now purpose for you now that she is wedded.”

You ignored the tears burning in your eyes. You ignored him, the best you could.

Brock Rumlow turned around, eyes narrowed on your semi-conscious face. He pulled the reins on his horse and circled his way next to Quentin. 

“If she is awake, then she is capable of walking.” 

His boot connected with your ribs, hard and painful as it was, and pushed you off the horse, out of Quentin’s hold, and onto the snowy ground below. Snickered laughs erupted around you. 

The unfortunate odds of landing harshly against a tree trunk hidden beneath the snow were unfortunately not in your hands. 

It was a harsh landing, a painful one as well. All the breath was torn from you, like a transparent hand had forced itself into your lungs, pulling all the air from you. You contemplated laying still, pretending to be dead, but they would never buy it. 

If anything, it would only aggravate them more. Maybe it was foolish to think you could ever escape from them.

A cackle of laughter came from a third man, the all too familiar knight guard for the Eastern kingdom. Jack Rollins was just as malicious as Brock was to you.

“Kick her off again.”

Quentin turned his head to the knight. “What are you doing here? Where is Uncle?”

“He is hidden away in the village at some inn. He refuses to leave without the Queen.”

You laid unmoving in the snow, hoping that they would leave you to die, quietly observing their conversation. 

They would never be able to get to Natasha, not without having to deal with the King himself. As gentle as he may be, you never had any doubt that he would do anything for her protection.

“Father is a fool to stay… but then again if he is caught by Rogers, then one of us will have no choice but to take the throne. So… I see a win in my eyes. Let him stay for all I care.”

Turning your head, you looked to see Brock get off his horse and make his way to you. Fearful, helpless sobs emitted from you the further he got to you, and when his hand locked onto your bicep, harshly pulling you up. 

“You can walk your way back to the East. And if you die, it won’t really matter anyway,” He leaned in closer to you, whispering into your ear. “I want you, dead or alive.”

“As if her death would matter to anyone.” Quentin laughed, rolling his eyes. “She’s just a servant girl, with no importance to anyone.”

This was your hell. 

It was if you had never left, the months of being on edge, the terrors that plagued your dreams, even the patch of a few months where you had been progressing, you were never really free from them.

Brock left you, tearing his hand off your arm. You had managed to stay standing, swaying gently but you found your footing. 

Until Jack kicked you over again, this time landing face first into the snow. 

“Useless.”

You shivered as you somehow managed to find the strength to push yourself up, with the help of a tree trunk. Albeit shaky in your steps, you stood against the tree, eyes peered towards the men.

Heart beating rapidly against your ribcage, you huffed out a laugh. “I-if I am s-so u-useless… a-and a w-waste of s-space… then w-why t-take me back? You a-all h-hate me.”

Brock snickered to himself, taking your chin in his hands, roughly gripping your face before pushing you away. 

“It is all about control, stupid girl.” he said simply. “Walk. Now.”

Watching closely as the prince mounted onto his horse before they began to move forwards again, you followed them, for only a moment. Only a few steps forward before you halted in your movements.

This could have been your only moment to escape. The forest was vast, if you could just disappear through the fog, you may have a chance.

It was now or never. Freedom or imprisonment. Life or death. 

So, you ran. 

As fast as your frigid, aching legs could carry you, you ran off into the forest, not daring to look back. It was your only chance of getting away. Only chance of surviving. You would rather have a fate of freezing to death than being their puppet ever again. You would much rather have mother nature take your life than man. 

The forest was cold and dark, the fog had begun to settle in, spreading across the land with the wind. You were so cold, but that didn’t stop you in your tracks. It couldn’t, wouldn’t.

You needed to get away as fast as possible.

“She’s running! Why is she running?!” Jack cried out, gripping the reins of his horse. 

Furious brown eyes shot open, and looked around, seeing your figure nearly disappear into the thick fog. He hissed under his breath, “Bitch.”

For years, you had been at the end of their vile actions. The times they would lock you in your room, the times you had been locked out of the castle, food was withheld from you for days at a time. It was only when you were on the verge of passing out did King Alexander intervene. If you were incapacitated, you wouldn’t be able to do any of the tasks that were expected of you everyday. 

It was years of physical mistreatment; a push down the stairs, a slap to the face, constantly being tripped by them when they would pass you. Startling a horse purposefully and almost trampled by a half ton animal built of pure muscle. 

How they screamed at you, so vile and malicious it scared you. Your heart rate would accelerate, so much so that you feared your heart would give out. 

It took all the strength you had just to leave the Eastern Lands. Dealing with the aftermath had been difficult alone. 

“After her!” Rumlow’s scream pierced through the dark forest. 

Adrenaline was a hell of a drug as it rushes throughout your body, but you kept running. Your heart pounded against your ribs, your bound hands shaking with every breath you took.

You refused to slow down, no matter how much it hurt you. 

As fast as your frozen boots could carry you. It hurt like hell, but you pushed through the pain, pushed through the bitter cold. You had no feeling in your legs, but they were still able to move, still able to carry yourself further away from the monsters that lurked within the woods. 

The same woods that had been tinted with orange and red leaves, now a snowy and icy forest. The trees that once had leaves full of life, now had naked branches covered in piles of snow. 

“Y/n! Get back here, you little whore!” Quentin’s voice soon followed.

Their voices echoed throughout the forest. 

You would not go back. It had taken a whole year planning to escape the place, to make it so that everything was timed perfectly. 

You would not let them take you back. Not to the desolate land you had spent too many years in. As Steve would say, you belonged in the North, as you had built a life for yourself, slowly but surely. Natasha, young Peter, Wanada, the entire knight guard. 

Healing, finding your true self. It was all here, in the North. 

Bucky was in the North, and you did not wish to live a life without James Barnes. The first man to ever show you any kindness, to love you for yourself. 

He made you feel things you had only read about. He was your real life knight in shining armor, taking any and every opportunity to be near you. He was enamoured by you, obsessed with you. He made you feel important, helped you with dealing with the trauma you had faced. 

You couldn’t live without him. You loved him far too much.

You pushed yourself further, not giving yourself a moment to rest, a moment to breathe. You could not spare even a second. Glancing back, you did not see anyone behind you, which made you feel uneasy. 

The calls of your name were echoed once again, but this time it was much more quiet, more gentle calling.

Everything in your body hurt; midsection when he had pushed you, hands and wrists that were bound too tight for comfort, neck throbbed and ached. Your head and nose were in absolute agony. You did not dare to wish to know your appearance. 

Ice began to form over the blood that covered the front of your dress. The dress Natasha had ordered for you, specifically for her wedding. You had hoped, prayed to the gods above that she was safe, and hopefully found.

You were too occupied looking back behind you to notice the two figures emerging from the fog, thick cloaks over their shoulders, swords at the ready. 

Once you turned forwards and your eyes landed on the three figures, you halted in your tracks. More fear and panic surged through as you stumbled back slightly. You couldn’t breathe.

Had they found a way around the frozen lake? Their voices were so distant a minute ago. You held your shaking hands to your chest, slowly backing up. 

“Y/n?”

Another voice called for you in the distance. 

This one was different. No anger, or malice behind it.

“Y/n!”

It called for you again, this time much stronger, louder. Tears welled in your eyes, and you could feel your body start to lose strength each passing second. You couldn’t go on much longer, but you would rather die to the cold than to their hands.

The voice called once more, this time, it sounded familiar. Like it had called your name countless times. 

Your vision had cleared, just for a moment and your eyes widened, breath stolen from your lungs. 

A figure, straight ahead.

“B-Bucky?” 

---

The cold was unforgiving, but Bucky was accustomed to it. The same bitterness of the frigid air nipped at his face, but he spared no care.

You were somewhere out here. Not fair, the princes wouldn’t be able to get that fair in the current visibility. Northern winter storms were the most harsh in all the lands. 

Harsh, freezing temperatures, unforgiving wind. It was easy to get lost.

Anyone who didn’t know the forest, would not be able to make their way out of it. It took Bucky years before he was able to map out every square inch of the forest, memorized like the back of his hand.

Bucky gripped the reins on Dahlia, easing her forwards through the fog as it began to settle through the forest, weaving in through the trees. Sam appeared through the thick, grasping his horse's reins with a solemn look on his face.

“No sign of her, Captain. The winds are starting to pick up. I am trying to see if I can hear anything, but the winds are too strong.”

“She has to be somewhere.” 

Bucky wasn’t leaving the forest without you. He would not sleep, would not rest until you were in his arms. He had failed, had broken his one promise that you would never end up in their hands again. Yet, his guard was down, and this was the aftermath.

“Whatever you are thinking, quit it.” Sam called out, nudging his horse to catch up with the captain. “There is no use putting blame on yourself, like you said earlier. Clear your head, she is still out here, it’s impossible that they would make it more than five miles out.”

“She needs your head to be clear. She wouldn’t blame you, so do not do it yourself.” 

Bucky nodded, and with a deep breath, he progressed on. Though, he was anxious from his lace on the saddle, that he had only made it another minute or so before dismounting Dahlia. He looked around, before going in the one direction that he had missed. He knew you were out here somewhere. He felt it deep in his bones. 

Eventually he furthered into the forest, jumping over branches, uprooted trees before he heard the faint echo of a scream. 

Maybe more of a yell.

“Y/n?” Bucky called out.

Sam dismounted from his horse, sword already drawn. Bucky unsheathed his sword. 

“Do you see that? Up ahead, it looks to be a silhouette of something.”

Someone.

“Not something. Someone.”

The voice echoed once again, this time he could register the tone of it. It was angry, furious. His eyes widened when he looked at the familiar figure up ahead.

“Y/n!”

He had called your name out one more time, in hopes that the figure ahead truly was you. 

It wasn’t until you had stepped out of the fog, and the captain finally laid eyes on you.

“B-Bucky?”

Your voice sounded so broken when you called for him.

His breath hitched, and for a moment all the air was pulled from his lungs. He felt agony as he gazed at you, fear had slowly begun to be replaced with something else.  

Relief? Joy? Anger?

He couldn’t tell, nor could he stop himself from making his way to you. No force would have been able to stop him. 

He could hear the strangled cry that passed through your lips as he made his way to you. He kept focused on you, the closer you got to him, until you came crashing into his arms, tied hands grasping the fabric that covered his chest. 

Thank the gods. Bucky silently thought to himself. His eyes clenched shut and he pressed his face against your hair, his breathing suddenly shaky. He blinked back the burn of tears that had threatened to spill over his waterline.

Cradling your head to his chest, he held you as your shoulders shook with fear, every passing second. 

Never had he been so… petrified. 

Strong arms engulfed you as you sobbed against his neck, face pressed up against the column of his throat, head anchored to his shoulder. “I’ve got you. I’m right here, sweet girl. You’re safe, I’ve got you.”

His hand slid down the back of your head as you continued to shake in his hold, but when he felt a warm, sticky substance the moment his hand pressed against your neck, he pulled back to see blood. 

The sight made him sick to his stomach. Blood. Your blood.

“Look at me.”

His hands gingerly took a hold of your cheeks, guiding you to look up at him. Blood was practically frozen to your skin, the harsh frigid temperatures only seemed to decrease with every passing minute. A swollen eye, broken nose, cuts and scrapes littered the exposed skin of your collarbone and clavicle, and the rope burns around your wrists.

Not to mention the ring of bruises around your throat. His fingers ghosted over the bruised skin, looking closer to see the bruises were in shapes of fingers. 

Blue eyes raked your trembling form once more, worried eyes looking at your fingers that were too ghostly for his liking. More blood began to seep out from underneath the ropes.

With the most delicate grip, he grasped your forearms and pulled out a knife from his belt and began to slice through the ropes, until they fell to the ground. Only then did he see your blood crusted wrists through the long sleeves of your dress, and a wave of fury passed through him.

Bucky ripped off the heavy cloak that once sat on his shoulder and draped it around your shaking form, hugging you to his chest. 

“Y-you came f-for m-me.” you choked out in between sobs. Your voice was so scratchy, nearly faded away, and Bucky gently shushed you as your face contorted in pain.

Shivers still racked through your body, which should have brought a small sense of hope to Bucky. But it did not. It only fueled his anger and hatred for the men who lurked within the foggy shadows. 

“I will always come for you.” he whispered in your ear. Trotting sounds came through the trees and suddenly Dahlia appeared behind Bucky. “What happened, sweet girl? Who did this to you?”

Bucky needed to make sure that you knew what had happened. To see how much hypothermia was starting to take effect on you.

“B-Brock and Q-Quentin… Jack,” You pressed your face against his chest, your sobs dying down into whimpers. “T-they pushed m-me off the horse, a-and were gonna m-make me walk, b-but I ran. I-I don’t… k-know… w-where they a-are.” you shivered in between sobs.

Delirium had begun to settle in. Your words had slurred together, the grip on his arms slowly getting weaker. 

“Captain, three figures approaching us from the west. What shall we do?”

Jack Rollins, Quentin Beck and Brock Rumlow were driven by pure hatred, they would do anything to get you back. He looked to the west, eyeing the figures steadily approaching. 

You clinged to his chest, “Bucky, I-I’m scared.”

Bucky slid his hand over your cheek, gently shushing you as more broken sobs came from you. He began to tighten the cloak that sat on your shoulders, covering you tightly. Your lips had begun to turn purple.

“It’ll be alright, sweet girl. I promise. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you again. Just stay with me.” You bobbed your head wordlessly. Bucky turned to his knights. “Pick two of them off. There’s three of them…”

“I got two of them. Is this a dead or alive situation?” Sam asked, his grip on his sword was tight. He was angry, and rightfully so. 

Sam had felt some of the blame, watching as Rumlow and Quentin held you in the corridors. As second in command, he took on just as much responsibility that Bucky had, and prided himself in being fast in responding to situations.

But he had let them take you, injuring Pietro in the process.

“Dead or alive?”

Bucky hadn’t thought about that. He was the leader of the protection of the North. The three men that lurked within the shadows had invaded and brought fear and panic to the good townspeople. To the visiting royals who had wished the new couple nothing but good wishes. They had invaded his home once again, and harmed you in the process. 

“I don't care if they are dead or alive, I deem them a danger to the village, and will now be wanted fugitives in the Northern Lands. We will be bringing them back to the palace. Whether they are dead or alive, I do not care,” Bucky hissed out. “their bodies will be brought before the King, warm or cold.”

“Understood, Captain.” Sam both nodded with a satisfying look upon their faces. One look at each other and it was evident they shared the same thought -- they would pay. 

“Wrap around, see if you can get the jump on two of them.” Sam nodded and guided his horse into the fog.

The sounds of your laboured breathing and the whistling of the wind were the only things Bucky heard as he gripped his sword tightly in his hand. He had placed himself in front of you and you felt yourself holding his backside.

“Hold on to Dahlia,” Bucky guided you to the other side of the horse, gently placing your hands on the saddle. A low whine passed through your lips as you held yourself up, Bucky pressed his forehead against yours. 

Strength was running thin within you, and you just wanted to be anyway but here.

“You are the bravest woman. We will be okay, I promise. Just hold on a little longer for me.”

The mare had let out a winnie, alerting Bucky to the figure that stood across the forest, where Brock Rumlow lurked. 

“Just hold on.” You nodded vigorously before he separated himself from you and rounded the horse, to block Rumlow’s view of you.

His sword was held tightly in his grasp

Deep brown eyes stared menacingly at the captain from across the bank. “We meet again, Captain Barnes.”

“Unfortunately we do.” 

Rumlow came closer to Bucky, though he took steps back the more he advanced. “Make this easy on yourself and just hand her back to us. And I will spare you once again.”

Bucky let out a humorless laugh. 

“The reason why you are still breathing is because I do not have the cruel heart to take a life when they are unarmed, and if my memory serves me right, you were taken out by a mare protecting her young. And if you think for a moment that I am giving her up, you have gone mad.”

You held onto Dahlia tighter than before, shaking with pure fear. If they had control over you again, your life would be over. 

“She belongs to the Eastern land.”

Bucky nearly shook with fury. 

“She doesn’t belong to anyone or anything.” he gripped his sword tightly, eyes completely focused on Rumlow as he stepped closer and closer, before he was only a few yards away. 

Rumlow unsheathed his sword, pointing it towards Bucky. It had been years since the two had come into contact with each other, the last time being when the North was invaded, all those years ago. 

When he had gone up against Rumlow himself in the dead of night during the spring solstice, in the earlier days of him being promoted to captain of the knight guard, he had the upper hand on the Easterner for the longest time, before he used a dirty move and brought a weapon against his left shoulder and nearly tore his arm from his shoulder. 

It was a long fight between both men, and Bucky had only gotten the upper hand on him when he pushed the prince into the stables, where a mare had just given life to her new foal. Bucky watched as Rumlow foolishly tried to claim the horse, but was met with a harsh kick that sent him flying yards and yards away.

That was years ago, nearly half a decade, and Bucky had become stronger as a knight.

This time, he was prepared. He didn’t need anything, just one look of your bruised, bloodied face was enough to send him over the edge. 

“That is a shame, Captain. Because she will be coming back with us.”

Silver sword raised, Bucky shook his head. “Over my dead body.”

Rumlow smirked, with malicious intent. “That can be arranged.”

Anger clouded Rumlow’s mind and he charged at Bucky, sword raised high over his head. Bucky quickly evaded his swing, blocking his strike with his sword. He was irrational as he sloppily swung his sword around. 

Bucky dodged and maneuvered his way out of Rumlow’s swings, swords clashing against each other. He was sloppy in his movements, sloppy in how he moved his sword. 

Every strike was blocked by the experienced captain, Buck grew tired and impatient and aimed for hitting near Rumlow’s wrist, alluding that he was going for his wrist made the price panicky and dropped his sword. 

In the process, the tip of Bucky’s sword slashed through the skin on his wrist, matching one of the thick, jagged scars that was hidden near your elbow.

Before he had the chance to pick it up out of the snow, Bucky kicked it away. “You are pathetic!”

Rumlow growled and scrambled back onto his feet. Anger coursed through him and when he looked over at you, a devilish smirk creeped onto his face, taking a step backwards, trying to inch closer to you. His movements were sluggish as the cold bit at him. 

But Bucky didn’t let him take another step. He charged at the prince, pulling him forwards by his cloak and his armor cladded elbow came into contact with his face before Bucky sent him flying into the tree.

“You’ve gotten sloppy over the years,” Bucky taunted Rumlow, brown eyes daunting into blue. “Can’t even hold your own, but that must be hard when your opponent has no combat experience, when your opponent is a lady.”

Bucky would never let himself be controlled by anger. He made sure of that when he was appointed Captain of the  knight guard all those years ago. He considered himself to be patient and controlled at all times. 

Until he met you, until he learnt of your past trauma, until he came face to face with the people who had left every single scar on your body. 

When  your name had fallen from Goldman’s lips, an anger clouded over him, though he remained calm and collected until you had crashed into his arms, blood and bruises covering your face, cuts, scrapes littering your arms, your entire body.

He could no longer contain the anger. The fury that had nearly possessed him when Rumlow had claimed you had belonged to them was the final straw.

“Does it make you feel like a man?” Bucky asked, walking backwards as Rumlow advanced on him, dodging all his attempted punches. 

Rumlow leaned down and grabbed a twig, smacking Bucky across the face, and for a moment the knight had almost been sent to the ground. 

But he found his footing and ran at Rumlow, dodging the punch that he threw at him. Grabbing his wrist, Bucky twisted and pulled Rumlow forward before suddenly bringing him down, knee connecting with his jaw. The prince cried out in pain, and suddenly all air was torn from him as Bucky kicked him square in the chest, sending him flying into a snowbank.

The knight approached him, pulling him up by the chest and before Rumlow could smack him with the twig again, Bucky had tilted back and headbutted the prince straight in the face, the sounds of cracking bone reached his ear, along with the cries of pain from Rumlow.

“Doesn’t feel good, now does it?”

Watching through fearful eyes, you observed the two men fight, gripping tighter onto Dahlia’s saddle. Your head pounded, the fight to stay awake proved just how exhausted you truly were. 

You failed to realize that Jack Rollins was approaching you, not until his fingers grasped the hood of the cloak and tried to pull you down, but the mare sensed the knight, and began to pull you forwards. 

He came at you from behind, sword raised, ready to strike you the moment you came into close contact. In your near delirious state, there was nothing you could do. Frozen in fear, you waived for the final blow.

But he stepped into the horse’s blindspot.  

“Rollins!” you heard Sam cry out in warning.

Until Dahlia kicked out her back legs, her powerful hoof connected with Jack Rollins’ chest, that sent him flying across the forest before he landed on the frozen lake. 

It took Rollins a minute or two to regain his balance, but the loud bellowing of the ice suddenly rang out, and the ice began to crack around him until it could no longer hold his weight. 

Within seconds, he was pulled into the dark, frigid waters below. 

You shuddered a breath, eyes wide in shock. You never expected this, not a rescue mission, not the deaths of the men who haunted you in your dreams.

When he didn’t resurface, you knew he was dead.

It was hard to catch your breath, panic swirled throughout your mind. What if Alexander is nearby? He will try anything to bring me back.

You whimpered, pressing your head against the saddle, praying to any gods above that your nightmare would end soon. 

Bucky looked back, Rumlow laid on the snowy ground at his feet, the captain's foot placed directly on top of his chest, pinning him to the ground. Sword pointed at the base of his neck, blood poured out of Rumlow’s broken nose, flowing like a waterfall. 

Sam appeared out of the fog, sword gripped tight in his hand, frantic brown eyes searching all around. 

Dahlia's whinny had alerted him, and when he laid his eyes on you, fear had struck through him. 

In the distance, he could see Beck start to creep up behind you, a knife sliding down into his palm. Face pressed down, you were disoriented, hypothermia had begun to take over your senses and your mind was fogged. Barely holding onto Dahlia’s saddle, the mare could sense your condition, how you were losing your battle to stay awake. 

You were in a state of delirium, and completely oblivious to the approaching man, but Bucky wasn’t. He was too close to you. Too close for comfort and it ignited a fire deep inside Bucky. 

He had appeared silently behind Sam, going into his blindspot. Bucky couldn’t yell out his partner’s name, not when Beck was that close. 

That was not a risk Bucky was willing to take.

Bucky slammed his sword into the ground, pinning the fabric of Rumlow’s tunic into the snowy earth, and snuck his way towards the second prince. 

He didn’t care about the consequences of the actions he was going to take.

He didn’t care if his title of Captain was stripped away. 

He didn’t care what issues it would cause. 

They had attacked his home for a second time, tried to annex the North, tried to kidnap the Queen, and instead took you as a placeholder.

Your broken nose was not enough, nor was your swollen lip, or the deep bruising at your neck, the rings of blood from the ropes. The large gash on your temple. Your swollen eye, the hypothermia that threatened to take over.

A fury passed through the knight as he hid behind a tree, just for a moment, until he could be directly out of Beck’s eyeline. He waited a moment before lunging out, catching Beck by the neck. The prince swung out the knife, but he was inexperienced with it, much like his cousin. 

He lacked confidence when swinging it around, and Bucky took that to his advantage.

One of Bucky’s arms had wrapped around the prince’s neck, pulling him further away from you. Twisting his arm, the knife dropped into the snow, Beck tried to sneak out of the knight’s grip, but Bucky only squeezed his arms harder. 

Dahlia had become uneasy and anxious in her footing as the two men fought against each other. The mare had begun to move in her steps, keeping you further from harm. The horse had already kicked the Eastern knight into the frozen lake, with her powerful legs that had sent Jack Rollins to his fate in the icy, frigid waters below. 

Bucky caught Beck in a chokehold, keeping the base of his neck in a tight, vice grip. The prince had tried to hit, pull, scratch, really trying to do everything to get the knight off him. His efforts died quickly, as Bucky grabbed his wrists and twisted, a choked cry escaping the prince’s mouth.

Sneering into his ear, “You don’t like, huh? You don’t like the feeling of being choked out? It’s pretty fucking painful isn’t it?” Bucky spat, anger filled his voice. “That fear, that pain… is exactly what every moment is for her whenever she’s near you, your cousin, and your coward of an uncle.”

Without hesitation, Bucky grabbed the side of Beck’s face, and twisted, until a sickening snap was heard. The knight released, and the prince fell lifelessly to the ground. 

Bucky’s breathing was ragged, like he couldn’t catch his breath. Looking down, he saw Quentin’s lifeless body, blank and empty eyes staring up into the night clouds.

Though, he felt almost no remorse. Bucky had killed before, but this was different. Seeing him start to creep up behind you, with a knife, ready to do gods knows what.

This was personal. 

“You will pay for this!”

Bucky didn’t have a care for either man. Had Rumlow not been armed, and nearly surrendered, he would have met the same fate as his cousin. He ignored the screams that were hurled at him. 

“I will kill her! I will come back and nothing will stop me from finding her, and making sure she has the slowest death possible!”

Bucky gritted his teeth, jaw wired shut as he stormed over to the man and delivered a swift kick to his face, knocking him clean out. 

“Bastards.” Sam muttered as he sheathed his sword.

You gripped the side of the saddle weakly, with the little strength you had left. Ice had already begun to cover your freezing skin, though slight tremors still racked through your body. Your head was pressed against the mare's leg, Bucky wasn't even sure how you were holding yourself up still.  

The little strength you had dispersed and you felt your body give out. Knees buckled, you were so out of it, so delirious, halfway into the darkness, and you were expecting to slam down into the harsh snowy ground. It felt like you had been falling forever, until you felt the warmth, the familiar warmth that made you feel safe. 

“I got you,” he whispered against the cold skin of your cheek. “I’m here, sweet girl.”

He came for me. You looked at him through half lidded eyes, whispering his name, but it still hurt to speak.

“Hey, hey,” your head lolled back against his shoulder, against his pauldron. “Y/n, keep your eyes open. I need you to stay with me.”

Your eyes were barely peeled open, “I-I’m so t-tired. S-so c-cold.”

Tightening the cloak around your shoulders, he lifted you up with ease, not caring about the winter chill that bitterly nipped at his face. He did not care in the slightest, he would shed all of his clothes if it meant you were warm. 

“Come on, honey, stay awake. Show me those beautiful eyes of yours,” Bucky nudged you as much as he could, shaking you to stay conscious. 

But your eyes kept drooping. Your body was limp. You had fought, pushed through the forest, through the snow and wind, and you were so exhausted. So tired. 

Bucky mounted onto Dahlia, adjusting so that you laid across his lap, covered in the thick fabric of his cloak. Your eyes were fully closed by now, and panic threshed through the knight. You were ice cold to the touch, and being out for only a few hours without a cloak contributed to your hypothermic state.

Not wasting a single second, now that he had you in the safety of his arms, he turned to his lieutenant. Frantic blue eyes Sam had only seen twice. 

“I need to get her back to the castle, can-”

Before the captain could even finish his sentence, Sam nodded, “I will have this handled. Go.”

Not another second was wasted, Dahlia had picked up a pace, running as fast as she could. The bitter cold bit against Bucky, but he didn’t care in the slightest. He didn’t care for the sharp nipping of the frigid wind. 

All he cared about was getting you to the warm castle. Getting you to the healers, to attend to all your wounds, even the hidden ones.

Bucky pulled the hood of the cloak over the top of your head, protecting your face from the unforgiving cold. He cradled your head to his chest, whispering, “Stay with me.”

Silence was his only response. 

“Faster, Dahlia!”

---

You made your way out of your chambers, adorned in the warm, fleece dress that Steve had provided you for the winter months, and made your way to Natasha’s quarters. Personal issues aside, you still had a duty to her. Pushing the anxiety down, as you always did.

She still deserved to have her dearest friend help her prepare herself for the day to come.

Even as sleep deprived as you were last night, you still clearly remembered Bucky’s confession. His arms holding you to his chest, his lips kissing your skin, over faded scars. He did not have to verbalize his feelings, you had already known. 

Perhaps the entire kingdom knew, the way he always had an eye on you, watching and observing from a distance. If you were in the captain’s presence, your safety was always his priority. 

But after last night, the way he delicately kissed the skin of your neck, how his lips danced across the base of your throat, where nasty bruises had once been from the vice grip of him, Bucky had left only goosebumps against your skin. 

He held you, loved you in such a way that you were not used to. 

Even though when you had awoken to the other side of the bed being vacant, you still had a smile when you first stirred in the morning. His declaration of his love for you had been burning in your mind all morning -- you could not keep it from Natasha any longer. 

You had your suspicions that she already knew, but you needed to vocalize it.  

Furthering down the hall, you turned and pushed open the door to Natasha’s chamber, shutting it behind you. Your back stood against the wood for a moment, until you pushed off and made your way further into her room, where you found her bunched up in the sheets. You could not imagine the anxious feelings swirling through her right now. In just a few short hours, she would become Queen of the Northern Lands. 

The first thing you did was gently peel back her curtains, the gloomy sky did not offer any light, but it felt better than keeping them closed. Before you could do it, Natasha suddenly sat up in bed, arms stretched above her head. 

“Good morning, my dearest.” she mumbled sleepily, a gleaming smile on her face. 

You smiled at her, one that lit up your eyes. “A good morning it is, your wedding day!”

Helping her out of bed, you slipped a robe over her shoulders and led her to the vanity, where you grabbed a brush. Natasha eyed you in the mirror. You brushed through her tangled hair, gently brushing out the knots. 

“You are in a chipper mood today,” Natasha said with a smile, “I do not think I have ever seen you smile in such a way, lady.”

You felt your cheeks heaten up and you glanced at her in the mirror. 

“There is something I have been eager to tell you,” you said, beginning to braid her hair down her back. You tried to hide the smile, but the thoughts of Bucky, and the way his hands felt against your body. “Bucky and I… um, we have -- w-we have kissed.” 

Natasha was smiling so wide, you could not help but giggle. “I am not going to say I knew it… but I had a feeling.”

You smiled to yourself, nibbling on your lip before you spoke again. “He… he told me that he loved me.”

She whipped around, green eyes wide with excitement. “And? Do you love him as well? I mean, of course you do. I have never seen you so nervous around anyone like him before.”

Truth be told, you didn’t know what it was like to be loved by someone before you moved into the North. Natasha had shown you what true friendship was like, but you had never been loved in a way that he loved you. 

For too long, you had been subjected to harsh treatment, the only love you knew was that of what you read in fairytales. You had longed to have a life outside of the palace.

You had never been allowed to venture off in the village and explore, being subjected to the small closet that they had deemed your personal quarters.

No fireplace, a straw mattress that sat on the cold, damp floors. The thin blankets and flat pillows the king had given you. 

The many nights you were sent to bed without a meal or water, the many times you had beaten over a small mistake, they had forbidden the healer to tend to your wounds, as many nights you found yourself tending to your own injuries. 

The night the princes had locked you out in the horse's stable when a blizzard had passed through, and if it had not been one of the chef’s to open the door for you, gods knows what state your body would have been in. You truly wondered how you survived as long as you did. 

“I… I do not know what loving someone feels like.” you responded quietly. 

Natasha turned in her chair suddenly, green eyes focused on yours as she stood. “Oh, my friend, I think you know exactly what it is to be in love. I have studied you for months, Y/n, since the very moment we stepped foot in the kingdom. I have seen the way you are around him, the look that completely covers your eyes.” She paused to grasp your hands, “I have never seen you more full of like then when you are with him. You come back with life in your eyes, a smile that is not forced, true happiness.”

Or maybe you did.

You had ignored the fluttering feeling the first time Bucky had reached for your hand, pressing a kiss against the raised skin. The way he looked at you, ocean eyes looked at you curiously, eager to know you. 

You had tried to ignore how the thought of his strong, muscular arms that had held you many times made you feel. When he had wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you out of the way of a crashing wagon, grasped onto your hand and yanked you out of the line of a punch by a drunk villager who had meant to punch another drunk. 

You tried to ignore the way it felt when he would leave you little tokens of affection around the castle; flowers on your bedside table, sweet pastries dropped at the front of your quarters every morning. On the inside, your butterflies erupted in your stomach as you would find little notes addressed to you hidden throughout the library. 

You tried to ignore every way he made you feel, but you could not rid them away. He made you feel safe, protected, wanted. He needed you just as much as you needed him. 

“I think you know the answer,” Natasha’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. Surprisingly to Natasha, you had let out a hearty giggle. The sight brought a smile to her face.

Nodding your head, you replied, “I think you are right.” Clearing and composing yourself, you sat her down once again. You only had an hour until you needed to start reading Natasha, as well yourself. “Is there anything you need before we start getting ready? Refreshments or something to eat?”

“If you please, my lady. Any type of tea is fine and if there are any muffins available?” she answered, looking up at you with green doe eyes. You smiled and dipped into a curtsey. 

“Of course, dear friend”

You squeezed her shoulder before you made your way out into the hall. The winter wind suddenly blew right at your face, and you found yourself missing your cloak.

The bitter cold winter chill passed through the halls, and you shivered, hugging yourself tighter as you quickly made your way towards the kitchens. The mountains looked beautiful, snow covered every inch of the once green forestry. It was a much more beautiful landscape than your previous home. If you would even call it that.

So lost in thought, you did not register the hand that reached out, gently grasping your wrist.

The terrified yelp turned into nervous laughter as your eyes settled on Bucky’s as he smiled down at you. An apologetic look of fear coursed through him as you brought your hand up to your chest.

“I am so sorry, sweet girl, I didn't mean to frighten you.” he said to you before leaning down to press his lips against your cheek, gently pushing you up against the wall in the most delicate way. “How are you today? Why don’t you have a cloak on? It will be freezing today.”

You shrugged, “I am fine, I forgot it back in the quarters, but I am merely fetching Natasha a morning snack. I think I will be fine, Bucky.”

Bucky looked skeptical towards you, but nodded, caressing his finger down your cheek, running along your jaw, the bottom side of your lip. “I just worry about you, sweet girl.”

You looked down, heart racing against your rib cage when he touched your face once again, and you whispered, “I know, but I can take care of myself.” 

Azure eyes looked at you. “I know you can. But I will take care of you anyways.”

Before you had the chance to say anything, his lips were suddenly pressed against yours, gentle as always. His hands slid from your cheeks down to your neck, softly caressing the base of your throat in the most delicate way. Goosebumps arose on your skin wherever he touched - a gingerness you had not learned until meeting Bucky.

“I am a very busy woman today, Bucky,” your voice was quiet, reserved as the knight pulled away, though his hands remained on your neck. But instead of malice, you were caressed with care. 

“I know, I know. You are as I am as well. I just wanted to wish you a good morrow, my love. Are you sure you won’t wear my cloak?”

You smiled and reached up, grabbing his wrist with a firm, but delicate grasp. “I am fine.”

Suddenly remembering the conversation you had with Natasha previously, you looked up into his eyes. 

He was never harsh with you, never angry or irate with you, even the times where you were dismissive with him. The way he treated you, the way he loved you. You loved him too, you realized. Missing his touch, craving his attention. He took care of you, unlike any man you had ever come across. He was the first to see you for you. 

“I…” you stammered, suddenly lost in your words. His eyes flickered between yours, waiting for you to say it. He knew the words sat on your tongue. 

He knew the words you were trying to say, but he never pushed or prodded. Though he did not need verbal confirmation to know what you wanted to say. 

“I… I need to get Natasha some breakfast prepared. She will need her strength today.”

Bucky nodded, still smiling down at you. “I will see you later tonight, sweet girl.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss against your throat, whispering against your skin, “I know you will look beautiful.”

A sudden heat crept across your entire face, you bashfully smiled at him. “I look forward to seeing you as well.”

You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, and then you forced yourself towards the direction of the kitchen, away from his warmth, his comfort. Natasha was still waiting, and she needed to be ready as soon as possible.

Though, you missed him the second you pulled away, missed his delicate hands, the way he held you, caressed you. 

He was nearly unreal to you. You had not met any other man as kind as James Barnes, as gentle and caring. 

Like nothing else mattered, only you. 

“Hey.”

Bucky’s voice carried throughout the corridor, and you glanced over your shoulder, and to your surprise, Bucky still stood where you left him, staring at you with a lovesick grin. 

“Save a dance for me tonight, sweetling.”

A smile, although it was small, made its way on your face. You nodded at him with the softest smile he had ever seen, “Yes, Captain.”

Eventually you pushed yourself in the direction of the kitchen, quickly gathering a cup of tea and a muffin on a tray. Though his words had made you smile, it had slowly drifted away as the day grew. The resounding words replayed over in your head, there was a pit forming in your stomach. 

Taking a deep breath in, you straightened your posture, composed yourself and carried the tray back to Natasha’s quarters, and began to ready her for the big day. 

From outside her room, the castle buzzed the entire time you spent getting her ready. Orders were being shouted every couple of minutes, but you paid them no attention. 

Instead, you were focused on Natasha, and braiding her hair the way she requested. On doing anything she wished for. It was her special day, and you intended it to be perfect.

“You and the Captain are such a lovely pairing. I hope to see you two together tonight.”

“He is to be on duty tonight, protecting everyone. And I will have to attend to you and anything that you shall need.” 

Natasha caught your eye in the mirror and sighed deeply. “What if I want you to have fun tonight? To celebrate?”

I will celebrate when I know they are gone.

“Well, Bucky will be on duty tonight, so I will be celebrating with my lonesome as you will be with your new husband.” You retorted back, tying off the braid and finishing the final touches. “Besides, I am sure he will still try to sneak away regardless.”

“Because he is madly in love with you, my friend.”

You swallowed thickly; you were now aware of just how infatuated James Barnes was with you. And she had known all along. “I am aware of that now. But enough about me, it is not my wedding day, it is yours. Now, what do you think? We have time to make or remove any changes you would like.”

Red hair was curled at the ends, her hair pulled slightly tied back and braided down the back of her hair, an additional two braids , thinner, surrounded by wavy ends. 

“It is exactly what I was hoping for. You are amazing in every single way.” Natasha complimented you, “Which reminds me, as a thank you for all your help, I ordered you a dress, custom made specifically for you, my dearest.”

You looked at her, mouth agape as she began to pull out a beautiful navy blue dress “I know you are not a woman keen on everything galore, but I wished to get you this. To remind you of how beautiful you really are.”

The dress she showed you was beautiful. It was a simple deep navy blue dress, sleeves that flowed down past the wrists, a neckline that would only show your clavicle and a silver string that wrapped around, just below the bust. 

It was simple and perfect, something that she had picked just for you.

“I don’t know what to say..” you were at a loss for words. In the two years you had been with Natasha, she had shown you the true friendship you had always longed for. From the moment she had met you, she had shown you nothing but kindness. 

She never looked down upon you in the slightest.

“Thank you very much, dear friend.”

“No,” She shook her head and reached for your hand, pulling you into a bone crushing hug. “Thank you for being the best assistant, and just for being an amazing friend, and always being there when I need you the most. The countless times your presence has calmed me, you have no idea.”

You hugged her back with just as much force. “It has been my pleasure. And I will continue to be here for as long as you need. Obviously, by the end of the night you will be married to your love, but I will still be here. If you need me.”

Natasha pulled back and gave you the warmest smile. 

“Plus, the Captain will love it so much.” she poked and prodded and you playfully rolled your eyes.

She truly was an amazing friend. The best you could ever ask for. 

“Now, let us finish getting ready.” You pulled away from her and grabbed her wedding dress that was hidden behind the closet door. With a smile on your face to mask the anxieties you faced on the inside. 

---

The knight guard stood at all entrances of the grand room.

Dressed in formal attire, donned in shining metal armor, dark blue capes sat around their necks and sashes that wrapped just above where each sword saw, sheaths designed with the North’s insignia’s throughout generations. 

Captain Barnes began to make his rounds, and wouldn't let any guests begin to take their seats until he had inspected every inch of the room. 

“Well, don’t you clean up well, Buck.” The knight turned and saw Steve begin to make his way down the staircase that led into a smaller room. Bucky wore the same as his knights, only as the Captain, He wore a sash that ran across his chest, donned with the medals he had received from not only Steve, but rulers of both the South and the West lands.

He donned the same metal armor as his men, sword in its sheath. His hair was partially tied back, brown strands of hair came out from the tie and fell in front of his face. 

You had always said how dreamy he looked when he wore his hair like that. How handsome he looked. 

“Believe me or not, but I do wash up on occasion.” the captain jested before turning to look at his oldest friend. “And you look quite the same; always formal.”

“I am the King, Buck. It is almost always expected of me to be in formal attire.” 

A navy blue overcoat donned with all his medals, gold chains linking from the back to the front, gold buttons sewn in. A gold and blue sash at his waist, his sword at the hip, and his crown that sat on his golden hair. 

An outfit for a true king.

“Are you ready?” 

Steve took a deep breath in and exhaled. He had been ready practically from the moment Natasha had stepped foot on the land. 

After months spent apart, they were finally reunited with one another, and Steve couldn’t be more happier. 

“I am.” 

Bucky drew in a sharp whistle, and immediately following suit, the knight guard had begun allowing guests into the ceremony space. Each knight took his spot at each point in the room, where the royal couple would be protected at all costs.  

Steve had begun to make his way down to the head of the room, where he had shook hands with the priest. Next to him stood a table that held both of their wedding rings, and Natasha’s crown. 

Bucky did a last check off the room before the ladies were set to come in. The precautions he was taking were simply because of a snide comment from Pierce yesterday. If it was enough to have you on the edge, it was enough to put him on the edge.

---

“Are you ready, dear friend?” you whispered, adjusting Natasha’s veil. “You are about to become Queen of the North. I am so happy for you. You deserve all the happiness life can offer you.”

You handed her a bouquet of camellia’s, fixing and adjusting the strand of hair in front of her face. “You look beautiful.”

“As do you, my lady.” Natasha leaned over and grasped your hand. “Thank you for being here with me. It means the world to have my dearest friend next to me.” 

You looped your arm through hers and gave her one last smile before the doors had begun to open. She had gripped onto her bouquet tightly and took the first step, with you following her lead. 

Everyone around had begun to rise from their seats and turn towards the aisle, covered in flower petals. The light strum of a violin began to play in the background. You squeezed Natasha’s hand before moving further down the aisle. 

Scanning the room, Steve stood at the end of the aisle with the biggest smile you had ever seen. Knight guards stood at their point, though their eyes softened as the near future Queen walked down, looking beautiful and ethereal in the white gown she wore. Her red hair braided was a contrast against the white fabric, she looked angelic. 

Though you had been glancing at her the entire time, blue ocean eyes had been settling on you from the moment you walked through the doors. You knew his eyes were on you, though you had a duty to maintain. 

Deliver Natasha to her betrothed first. 

And as the two of you reached the end of the aisle, you respectively fell into a low courtesy, bowing to your ruler before you raised yourself and moved Natasha’s arm from yours to the King’s. 

“You look absolutely stunning, my love.” You overheard Steve murmur to his bride. Sam had offered his hand to you and led you to the side, where you were still within view of the couple… and in Bucky’s view.

Only when you pulled away did you look in the direction of Bucky. 

And his eyes were filled with nothing, but adoration. Cerulean sparkled in the candlelight as your eyes met his. 

Everything was distant. Suddenly, you could no longer hear the sermon being preached about love and unity. 

His eyes raked down your form, taking in every curve that the dress complimented you with. His stare never made you uncomfortable, because there was no malicious intent behind his stare. 

To him, you were the most beautiful person he had ever laid eyes on. And in the dress you wore, with how your hair was styled, the silver rose pendant that sat neatly on your chest. 

You were perfection to him. 

Every so often, his eyes would tear away from yours, even for a second to scan the room. But they would find yours once again. 

No words had to be spoken to know what he was trying to communicate with. 

You are absolutely breathtaking. 

Just as Steve and Natasha had begun to place flower crowns on each other.

I love you. 

Just as they had begun to recite their vows.

I wish I could hold you forever in this moment.

Just as they had shared their first kiss as King and Queen in the North, his eyes never strayed from yours. 

You had been so caught up in him, so infatuated, so caught up in the moments so enamoured with him, your anxieties had completely withered away.

The newly wedded couple had finally begun their descent, and you quickly followed after Natasha, curious to see what the rest of the night had in store.

---

It was a beautiful ceremony, though your gaze had been fixated on Bucky the entire time. You didn’t tear your eyes away from him, not for a second. You couldn’t help the flutter of butterflies you felt in your stomach.

You swayed to the music that filled the ballroom, silently humming the tune of the current song. They had played it before, during one of the many festivals in celebration of the betrothed couple.

Watching the newly wedded King and Queen dance with each other brought a smile to your face. 

Quite possibly two of the sweetest souls, and they were perfect for each other.

“Pardon me, my lady, but you look too lonely for my liking.” You turned your head to see Bucky walking up to you, a smile on his face as he took you in. “You look… so beautiful.”

You could feel your cheeks heaten up as you looked at him bashfully. “Thank you, Bucky. You look very handsome yourself.”

Rounds of applause erupted around you and you tore your eyes off of the knight and looked at the royal couple, how they held each other with such delicacy, with love. 

You felt Bucky grasp your hand and you turned to look at him. 

“You are always looking at me.” you said, keeping his gaze.  

“I just think you are just the sweetest thing I've ever had the privilege of being near.” he simply replied. “And not only are you gorgeous, you are also one of the kindest, most gentle souls I have ever come into contact with. Even with your terrible past, all the abuse you face, you hold no hatred towards anything.”

You laughed nervously and swallowed thickly, pushing past the lump in your throat “Gods, I am so grateful I met you, James. You make me feel…me”

Bucky’s cheeks were tinged with a light pink and wanted nothing more than to pull you in for a dance, just the two of you. If he could, he would steal you from this life and build a new one, from the start with you. He would have raided the Eastern lands if he had known the torture and abuse you had been subjugated to. 

A small farm in the countryside, to do nothing but live a simple life of tending to a farm, perhaps starting a family of his own, all with you by his side. He could love you at any given moment, just the two of you.

“When I first met you, I swore to the gods above that you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.” 

You huffed, “I surely am not the most beautiful. Some of the maidens in town are far more beautiful than I.”

“Not to me.”

Cerulean eyes stared into yours as you looked over at you. A gloved hand grasped your chin ever so delicately, pulling you in closer to him. You felt all movement in your body suddenly became jellish. 

His chest piece pressed against the exposed skin of your collarbone. It was cool to the touch, but you were warm. Your eyes flickered between his eyes down to his lips. His touch could make you melt where you stood.

You had wanted nothing more than to confesse your love to him, and there was nothing he wanted more than to kiss you endlessly, to hold you and love you. 

“I love you,” His lips were a breath away. “So, so much. I would do anything you asked of me, Y/n.”

You had opened your mouth to say something -- anything, but the sudden sounds screams and shouts, and Bucky’s attention was torn from you. 

The sudden charging of soldiers, donned in dark armor -- Eastern soldiers. 

The Captain did not waste a single second. 

With a sharp whistle, the knight guard had all unsheathed their swords, coming forth to form a barrier. 

“Get the royal’s out of here!” Bucky ordered the knights on the left side of him, to his right they stood at guard, knuckles tightened around the hilts of their swords. “Do not let them further into the castle!” 

With that, the knights began to charge, swords raised as they ran towards the attackers.

The East had tried to claim the North once, and they failed, They would fail once again. 

An Eastern soldier had latched onto your shoulders and nearly toppled you to the floor with him. A surprise yell had passed through your lips, but the hold was quickly lifted as Bucky brought his sword down against the soldiers, inserting himself in between the intruder and yourself. 

The knight kicked him in the chest before slamming the hilt of his sword against the man’s head. 

You stood behind Bucky, eyes wide. Eastern soldiers in the castle meant that their commander was near. 

Brock Rumlow and Quentin Beck would soon follow. 

“Are you alright, my lady? Are you hurt?” Bucky asked, coming up to you. You wordlessly shook your head, eyes tracking over the panic of the current room.

Bucky grasped your face in a firm, but delicate hold, pressing his lips against your quickly. “This is a serious situation. You need to go now, Y/n. I will come back for you, love.. but right now you need to get Natasha to safety. Hide somewhere - anywhere - follow Sam and listen to him.”  

Your eyes were full of terror, you felt paralyzed, frozen in fear. An urgent look in his eyes as they scanned the room, pushing you away and you fell to the ground, as another Eastern guard approached the two of you at a rapid speed, hailing a sword in his grasp. Bucky blocked a strike from the intruder, landing a kick against his chest that sent him flying across the room.

Bucky would never cause harm to you in any way, shape or form. He did it to protect you. To get you out of harm's way.

“Go! Get out of here! I will find you later, I promise!” 

You wordlessly nodded and scrambled to your feet, running in the direction of Natasha, who was surrounded by at least five knights and Steve, all their swords out at the ready. 

“Y/n!” Natasha cried out, reaching for you. “Oh my gods, my lady I was looking for you!” Green eyes mimicked your eyes, filled with nothing but fear.

Screams of the guests erupted, and you immediately latched onto Natasha’s hand. Despite the formal uniforms they donned, the knight guard did not hesitate to unsheath their weapons, charging at the incoming intruders beginning their seize of the kingdom. 

“Run, my ladies!” Sam yelled to you as he dodged a blow from an Eastern knight, landing a punch against the enemy’s face. “Run!”

“My Queen, I will find you later, I promise! Stay hidden!” Steve called out before charging into the pool or Eastern soldiers.

Not wasting a single second, you sprinted into the corridors, dragging Natasha with you. The moment you saw the grey banners, the snide comment from Pierce, you knew it was coming. You knew this was coming. 

Alexander Pierce always got what he wanted.

“What is happening?!” Natasha cried out, green eyes wide with fear, anticipation of what could happen. 

“We are being invaded is what is happening!” you replied, fear wavered through your voice. “You must hide, they will be coming after you!”

Eyes wide, you could not catch your breath, not when you heard the sounds of footsteps approaching, and they did not sound familiar. 

Without thinking, your eyes landed on the closet across the way, and you found yourself moving without thinking. 

“W-what are you doing?” Natasha whispered, and just as she was about to cry out your name, a yelp escaped her as you pushed her into the closet. She landed on the ground with a thud, and for a moment you wanted nothing but to express a thousand apologies. 

But not this time. Not when her life was on the balance. You were easily replaceable, she was not. “I vowed to protect you, and that is what I am doing.” you were firm with your decision and slammed the door, locking it from the outside. Natasha began to bang on the door as you dragged a table to block the door. Your name was muffled from the other side, begging and pleading to lock yourself in with her, but you did not falter. 

You could not lose her to them.

Not wasting another second, you sprinted in the opposite direction, hoping to have the time to find a hiding space yourself, just until the knight guard could contain the intruders. 

Just until Bucky could find you. 

But everything changed in seconds when a hand caught the back of your dress and forcefully slammed you against the wall, and suddenly a vice grip covered your neck. A pained cry escaped you, and you opened your eyes to see evil mahogany glaring deep into yours. 

“So, this is where you have run off to,” Brock Rumlow growled and leaned forward, sneering at you. “I always had wondered where you had gone, but now… knowing that you have been with our enemies the whole time. Just wait until Father lays eyes on you again.”

Terror took over your body as you laid eyes on the man that haunted your dreams, the all too familiar hands that had nearly killed you too many times to count. You were petrified. 

“But maybe he does not need to know that you reside here…” he said in a low tone, reaching behind him to pull out a knife, dragging it across your neck as he loosened his grip. “I could just kill you right now.”

The knife danced threateningly across your exposed collarbone, up the side of your neck, under your chin and across your cheek until he flicked the knife, nicking your cheekbone. You swallowed the whimper down.

“But you are not what we came for…” Your terror filled eyes flickered over to Quentin Beck as he approached, a sinister look upon his face. “...the Queen. Tell us where she is, and maybe my brother will show mercy on you and spare your life.”

There was no hesitation when you shook your head. You would die first before telling them where she was.

“No.”

His grip on your throat tightened suddenly and he pulled you back for a moment before ramming you back into the wall, this time much harder. Brock released his grip and you fell to the floor, coughing and gasping for a breath, vision doubling. 

“Tell me where she is!” 

You shook with terror, but you did not let the fear dictate your choice. You would lay down your own life even if it meant that she would be safe. With a firm shake of your head, you looked up at the two men, “I said no.”

“I see nothing has changed about her,” Beck spat down at you, turning to his cousin. “And what with her? Just kill her and move on - Father will not be pleased if we return without the Queen.” 

Rumlow sheathed the small dagger back into his belt and glanced around the corridors. The yelling from the hall had died down significantly, he noticed. “This was a failure.”

He growled to himself, turned his eyes down to you and a darkness suddenly washed over him. 

“If we return to him without the Queen, it is both of our heads, Brock! Do you not understand, fool?!”

A sinister smirk grew larger on Rumlow’s face as he stared down at you as you struggled to keep yourself up. The pain in your head began to pound, and you felt a warm liquid run down the back of your neck. A painful vice grip on your upper arm and you were forced up only to be slammed again. Your protests were quickly silenced when he pulled back and landed a punch to your face.

“Please…” you begged, whimpering as blood rushed out of your nose and down the front of your dress, crimson bleeding down into the navy blue. If it had not been for the tight grip he had on your arm, you would have fallen into a heap on the floor below. 

Blood seeped over the rose pendant that Natasha had bought for you, and before you knew it, Beck had ripped it off of your neck, throwing it across the hall. 

A cry escaped your lips. Your eye had started to swell, nose aching with every breath you took. Your nightmare had become a terrifying reality once again.

“Trust me, cousin,” Rumlow smiled as he saw how battered you were in front of him; bloody nose, discolored eye, bruised throat. “How will Father feel when he sees his favorite missing person instead.”

Tears began to gather in your eyes, your head shaking relentlessly. Even as they both grabbed your arms and began to drag you down the hall, you tried to stop them. Digging your heels into the ground with the little strength you had left. 

Just as Rumlow was about to raise his hand again, the door suddenly bursted open and Sam and Pietro came through the door, along with two other knights, Bruno Kreah and Herreck Goldman. Swords drawn, Sam’s eyes met yours and saw nothing but pure horror.

“Release her!” 

Beck held you against his chest, arms pinned back behind you with a knife pressed up against your throat. You did not move, nor did you breath, in fear that the knife would puncture your skin.

“One move, and it is her blood on the luscious carpet. Her blood on your hands, knight.” Beck taunted, moving steadily backwards, but with every step he took backwards, Sam advanced forwards.

Sam gripped his sword tightly, but did not make any move in fear of what they would do to you. He could already see the damage that was done, the blue of your dress tainted with the dark color of blood. He knew what would happen when Bucky found out.

Bucky. 

In a low, hushed voice, Sam whistled to Goldman, “Warn the captain.”

As the knight began to slowly backtrack, he slipped down the side corridor, unnoticed as Beck and Rumlow had their sole focus on Sam and Pietro. 

“Either the Queen or her lady, Lieutenant,” Rumlow pulled out the sword that sat on his hip, pointing it in Sam’s direction. “Your choice, Ser.”

You shook your head vigorously, tears cascading down your bloodied chin. “No! Let them take me. Please… spare the Queen.”

A menacing chuckle came from Rumlow, smirking at the knight. 

“You better wipe that smirk off your face before I wipe it off for you.” 

“Ah ah, Lieutenant Wilson, it appears the lady has spoken,” The vile Prince shifted his sword to point directly at your sternum. You stifled a cry of pain as the tip of the sword pierced through your skin. “You will let us walk out of here with Y/n, alone, or I will kill her and find the Queen myself. And my father will be very pleased with either or. Your choice, Wilson.”

Pietro unsheathed his sword and took a step forward, but halted in his steps as Sam held out his arm, pausing him. 

“Sam,” you gasped out, fighting to keep your focus on the knight. Brown eyes flickered to yours, and he could see the desperation in your eyes. “please, let me go.”

He had a guilt stricken look on his face, brown eyes mixed with betrayal and fear as he looked between Rumlow and you. He shook his head. The knight that was most gentle, one that had always laughed with you, protected you from afar, now staring at you from across the hall, watching your bloody and bruised body held up like a human shield. 

Rumlow sheathed his sword, gauging Sam’s movements carefully, as the prince had noticed all the weapons that sat on the walls of the corridor. “Well, I suppose everything is settled now-”

“No.” Sam opposed, raising his sword, about to charge, but Rumlow was quicker, more agile as he reached and pulled off a crossbow off the wall, and pointed it in Pietro’s direction. “No!”

Without hesitation, he fired an arrow into the young knight’s shoulder, mere inches away from his chest. The sounds of your screams overpowered Sam’s as he called out for his comrade, eyes wide with fear, terror. He had only hoped that Goldman had gone to warn Bucky.

The young man, barely the age of twenty, fell back onto the floors, cries of pain emitting from his throat, his eyes clenched tightly shut. Blood had begun to seep into the rug below.

“Maximoff!” Sam turned to his fallen knight, hands that were pressed into the younger knight’s wound, blood oozing between Sam’s fingers.

Rumlow threw aside the weapon and looked over at his cousin, nodding before making his way over to you. Strangled sobs left you as you hunched over in Beck’s hold, apathetic to the knife pressed to your throat. Your shoulders shook with every breath you took, and for a moment you could not catch your breath.

Strong hand gripped your hair tightly and pulled you up roughly and a scream came out, one you could not contain any longer. 

Everything hurt. 

You were scared, terrified as Rumlow was mere inches away from your face. 

“Comply with me, and no one else gets hurt.” 

“Pietro!”

His hand darted out and took a hold of your neck once again, this time in a more vice grip. He reached out and in a swift motion, smacked a candle stick against your head. 

Instantaneously, you were pulled into the darkness. Your body landed with a dull thump. 

Faint screams of your name was the last thing you heard before your eyes rolled in the back of your head and you were sucked into a world of darkness. Your body was lifted into the air, and the screams of your name began to dull out the further you ascended into the void.

“You belong to the Eastern Lands.”

You had not meant to spill the hot water from the kettle onto the Queen’s hand. She had assured you that there was nothing to be worried about, but she was not aware of what her husband did to you in the dark shadows. You knew she would never tell her husband the things shared between you, but a certain knight always made sure to report back to the King.

He had to have known. He had to. Otherwise you would be in your closet of a room, rubbing ointments over the darkening bruises that you hid under your dress.

It was only an accident. 

“Tell me now before I decide to send you to bed with a broken jaw.”

Before you could say anything, you felt a stinging sensation slash across the back of your palm and you looked down, seeing a pristine slit begin to leak, crimson tainting your skin as it rolled down the back of your hand.

“It was an accident, Your Majesty,” your voice trembled, watching as Alexander Pierce wiped blood -your blood- off his knife with a napkin before sheathing it onto his belt. “Her Majesty’s canine companion frightened me-”

Your head snapped to the side harshly, eyes clenched shut, you swallowed down the whimper. Your cheek stung so badly, you bit the inside of your cheek to silence the cry that threatened to leave your lips. 

This one had come sooner than you had expected. 

“I do not want excuses from you, girl,” Pierce spat at you. You nodded silently, afraid to upset him further. You knew all too well what it was like when he was truly angry. “Even after all these years, you still have not learned a goddamn thing.”

His hand reached out and roughly grabbed your bicep, pulling you up forcefully and slammed you against the wall of his study. A grunt caught in your throat that turned into a low whine the tighter he squeezed your arm. You looked at him with wide, fearful eyes.

“This is all your fault,” he spat at you. “It does not have to be like this, dear. I would not have to do this if you only knew how to do the littlest of tasks! All of this,” He grasped your wrist tightly, showing you the fresh scars from throughout the past few days, remembering the dark bruises that covered your arms, “this is all your fault! It does not have to be like this.”

“Please forgive me, Your Majesty, it will not happen again, I swear it.” you pleaded, voice void of any emotion. He was right, everything was your fault. Pierce glared down at you, pushing you harshly against the wall before releasing the vice grip he had on you. 

“You are absolutely right, Y/n. This will never happen again. And if it does, I will not hesitate to feed you to the wolves. Now get out. For your own sake, I encourage you to stay out of my sight for the rest of the day.”

You slipped out of his study faster than you had ever been, wanting nothing but to curl up and hide away from the monsters that lurked within the halls. More specifically the monster that stood at the end of the corridor. The one whose hand gripped the back of your dress and slammed you up against the window, your head connected with the glass so harshly your vision began to darken at the edges. 

The real fear sunk in when his hand closed around your throat.

“Spilling hot water on my mother,” His voice growled out, teeth bared as Prince Brock Rumlow glared down at you. Your hand gripped his wrist as he completely cut off your air supply. “What a stupid mistake on your part. I thought you were a smart girl, Y/n.”

The darkness that covered your vision began to lure you in, until suddenly his strangling hold was pulled off of you. If not for the prince’s vice hold on your arm, you would have collapsed to the floor while coughing.

“Come on, cousin,” The chilling sound of Quentin Beck’s voice reached your ear and you flinched when he gripped your elbow, pulling you to your feet. “As much as we wish we could kick her out of the palace, we cannot kill her. Nature will take her life rather than us.”

Sometimes you wished asphyxiation would take over. Then everything would stop. All of the pain, all of the sadness would just… disappear. Then maybe you would find peace.

“You heard what my uncle said. Get out of sight.” Beck pushed you out of his hold, dusting himself off as if you were a peasant. To them you were not even a lady. Just the servant they pushed around. “Maybe next time, you will be smart enough to use your brain when doing simple tasks.”

Your knees buckled and you fell to the floor, tears slipping over your cheeks. Humiliation and degradation sunk deep into your bones. You went to push yourself up, but not before you were pulled back harshly, darkness pulling you in instantaneously.

---

Sleep did not come easy for Bucky. 

Instead, he spent the darkest hours of the night keeping a close watch on you, making sure you slept. He had worried about your sleeping habits ever since the day in the stables, when he had given you the little push to share your haunted dreams and trauma, where you had finally let your walls crumble and trusted him completely. 

Bucky was no stranger to insomnia at all. In all his years of fighting battles, losing comrades and brothers, malicious dreams attacked him in the dead of night, plaguing his mind with visions of his dead soldiers, the guilt of a captain seeing his own men with empty eyes and an x marked on their foreheads. 

Screams, whether it was him or the soldiers littering around him, dirt, soil and blood mixed on everyone’s faces. He had nearly lost his left arm in a battle against the Eastern kingdom, against the very man who haunted your own dreams. 

Though it was years ago, and he had pushed past it, Bucky used the built up frustration and anger to become a more skilled fighter, heightened his defenses, and became a more understanding, but firm captain. 

According to Steve, it made him a better knight and a better man. In a way, he understood you. 

“I was once you, sweet girl.” A whisper above the thrashing winter storm outside of the window. 

Bucky studied you closely, listening how the sounds of the winds whistled low and eerily, your brows suddenly furrowed. Eyes clenched and twitched, a deep inhale of air, as if something had deprived you of a breath. Your body twisted, legs twitching. 

A suppressed pained moan left your lips, your head suddenly turned,cheek pressed against the pillow. Something was wrong, Bucky knew.

Gentle hands found their way to your face, one had tenderly held your jaw, thumb caressing your cheek, and the other had been placed over your sweaty forehead, thumb resting along the bridge of your nose, tenderly massaging away the frown. 

A tear slipped down your cheek before a fearful gasp escaped your lips. Bucky called your name gently, wanting to ease you from your nightmare soothingly and his thumb traced down your jaw, along your shoulder and just as he barely grazed your elbow with a more firm calling of your name, your eyes shot open and you lurched forwards, almost gasping for air. 

Despite the warmth of the crackling fire from across the room, you felt nothing but chills as you fought to catch your breath. You clawed at your chest, panic surging through every part of your body. 

But then you remembered the warmth presence behind you, the gentle, familiar hands that ever so softly grasped your elbows, the lips that placed a kiss along your shoulders, nose brushing against your hair. 

“Just breathe, sweet girl. In and out, slowly,” His voice was deep, but soothing and gentle when spoken to you. And so you followed his instructions, taking slow deep breaths in, and slow exhales until you eventually found your breath again. “I am here right here, Y/n.”

Tears filled your eyes quicker than you could process, rushing over your eyelids, racing down the skin of your cheek, dripping along the chest of your nightgown. It wasn’t until Bucky wiped your damp cheeks did you realize that you were crying. 

Shakily, you brought your hand up to your neck, nails lightly brushing against the skin to see if the bruises were still present, if they had truly followed you from your petrifying dream. 

Bucky slid along the bed, so that he was facing you from the side. His hand reached for yours, gently pulling it away from your neck and closing your trembling hand between his. 

“It was about them, was it not?” Bucky broke through the silence, tenderly brushing your hair away from your face. 

You looked down in shame, nodding your head. You cursed yourself; you had been making such good progress with the nightmares. It had been weeks since a dream as terrorizing as the one you just experienced. 

“Are you okay?” Bucky’s voice was tender and soft, a look of worry on his face. 

Nodding, you looked over at him with teary eyes. “Of course

The knight could sense hesitation in your voice and he grasped your hand tightly in his. 

“Do not lie to me, Y/n. Please, tell me what ails you.” he begged. 

Eyes are the windows to a person’s soul, something Bucky’s mother had always believed, and if it were true, terror and fear were in control of your soul. 

“They will be here, Bucky.” you whispered fearfully, gripping the blankets. “I have to be alongside Natasha at all times, that is my duty as her lady. I cannot let my emotions take control over me, but I am too scared to think…” Your eyes trailed over the visible scars, knowing there were more under the layer of clothing. “To think of what happens when they see me? What will the King think of me then? I-I ran away from the East, all the way to Natasha. If they see me, they’ll take me back to those desolate lands.”

Bucky gently shushed you and reached over, grabbing your hands. He gave them a light squeeze and leaned forward to kiss your cheek.

“I know for a fact Steve would not treat you nor look at you in a different way. Rest assured that Natasha cares more about you than she shows. If you tell him about the Eastern King, rest assured they will not be allowed within a five mile raid within here.”

More tears gathered in your eyes. You shook your head slowly, hands trembling slightly as they covered your eyes, whimpering as a cry passed through your lips. The sight nearly destroyed Bucky. He reached for your hands, peeling them away from your face as he rested the heel of his palm against your jaw, his thumbs caught all of the tears. 

“When we were at war with the East, I fought against Brock Rumlow alone,” Your eyes darted up to him. “around the same time you had begun your work with the Queen. I was sixteen when I officially became a knight, the same year Steve took the throne when he was fifteen. Two years later we were at war against the men of Alexander Pierce, fighting every single day.” His hands never stopped caressing your nearly dried cheeks.

“One fateful night though, Eastern soldiers had snuck into the village, attacking the innocent townspeople; men, women, children. The screams that were heard, they still haunt me in my dreams. The coup was led by Pierce’s son, Brock Rumlow, and try as he might, he was unsuccessful. Not only did he get thrown through wooden doors by a very protective mare with her newly born foal, but I am the reason for the scarring to his face.”

Mouth parted in shock, you continued to listen. “I would be a liar if I said it was an easy confrontation. In the end, we were both weakened and he got me when I had my guard down,” he pushed his tunic down over his left shoulder, revealing a ring of scars forming where his arm meets his shoulder. Raised skin that still radiated a slight pink over his tanned skin, your eyes ran from his shoulder all the way to meet his eyes. “We only lost a handful of souls, but Steve made sure the East paid for it.”

You knew why he decided to share his past with you. You knew he wanted you to desperately tell the King.

“I am scared, Bucky,” you whispered. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against your temple. “Brock… when he finds me…he will-”

“He will not have the chance. I will be right by your side the whole time.” You leaned into his embrace and practically placed yourself in his lap, curling up against him. “I will not leave you.”

You felt your eyes start to get heavy, your head resting back against his shoulder, Bucky readjusted himself so that he was pressed back up against the frame of the bed. “Please stay with me.”

Your voice was barely a whisper, but Bucky heard you clearly. He held you tighter and wrapped a blanket around your curled form. “Sleep, sweet girl. I will be here in the morning.”

–--

The throne room was a beautiful sight, but in the very moment you found yourself facing the thrones that were made for the King and Queen of the North, it was a field of nerves. Especially when the King himself sat on his throne, a silver crown adorned with jewels from the deep mountains of the forest sat perfectly on his head.

You swallowed thickly, glancing over at Bucky to make sure he was still there. 

“Lady Y/n, what brings you here at this hour? It is so early, surely you would like to get your rest to prepare for the long day ahead.” The King was kind with his words, almost concerned. 

The sun was still hidden behind the mountains and would not arise quite soon, but you could no longer sleep until you had discussed this with Steve, and Steve alone. 

“I fear I could not sleep if I truly wanted to,” There was an emptiness to your voice. Perhaps it was the sleep deprivation, or perhaps it was the nightmare haunting you. “I uh-” you hesitated, until Steve took a step forward, coming down the few steps to face you. “I do not know how to say this.”

Steve held his hands out, urging you to place your hands in his and as you placed your hands in his, he squeezed tightly, reassuringly. “Whatever it is that ails you, I encourage you to share with me, Y/n. You are my beloved’s closest companion, and yet I feel as if I know nothing about you.”

It amazed you how kind and generous your new king truly was. In the four months that you had been living in the North, you had never seen a mean bone in his body. He ruled with genuine compassion and care for his subjects and his people, always visiting the townspeople at least every week. 

Everyone adored and loved him. You could not think of a single person with ill intent towards the King. Steve was a ruler that loved and took care of all of his people.

Yet he never raised a hand towards you in any way, even when you accidentally squirted lemon juice into his eye one afternoon, making tea for him. Surely you expected to be backhanded, but a gentle squeeze of your shoulder and a laugh, the king had forgotten it happened in the first place.

“Before I came into the care of Natasha, I worked for the royal family of the Eastern Kingdom. I resided in the East for eight and a half years of--” You sucked in a breath. “of mistreatment from the King and the Princes. Though I only worked strictly for the Queen herself up until her passing, even when I assisted her, they sought to use me. I fear the moment they see me, they will have control over me again.”

Steve shook his head vigorously and looked back at the two maids who had rolled back the curtains, revealing the sun beginning to peak over the snowy mountains. 

“In the Northern Lands, nobody has control but I alone. And I assure you, Y/n, nobody has control while you live in my territories. Now, let us figure a solution to prevent the Easterners from coming into the palace.”

Your eyes widened and you turned to Bucky. You never intended for them to be banned from the wedding, let alone the kingdom. 

“Your Majesty-”

“The only reason why Alexander Pierce was even invited was strictly for diplomatic reasons,” Steve’s voice resounded with a firm tone. “He and his armies have brought my people pain and suffering. He has brought the most unimaginable grief to my mother, to me, to my people. And I will ban his presence from stepping anywhere near my land or my people. And that includes you, Lady Y/n.”

Words did not come to you, mouth gaped open. 

“Natasha talks about you all the time, and she’s told me the things you have done for her,” his voice changed from firm to gentle in an instant, your watery eyes darting up to meet his. “Yet I feel as if I know nothing about you at all besides your love for literature. You are an enigma to me.”

No family would do that. Orphaned at a young age, you did not know if your parents abandoned you or if their fate had come to them so quickly. No brothers or sisters, no childhood friends. 

No place to call home. 

“I am in no way, shape or form like Alexander Pierce or his son and nephew. They have destroyed my family, killed my father, nearly killed my best friend and now he has brought an overwhelming amount of pain on you. He will not hurt you again, nor will he be allowed in Northern territory.”

“Sir-”

“No, Y/n. These men have hurt you, scarred you,” he held up your hands, raised lines of skin covering the back of your hands and wrists. “If this were to happen in the palace I ruled, your hands would not be covered in reminders of abuse. And if they were, those responsible would be banished.” 

“You do not know me, I am just a servant.” was the only thing you replied. 

What were you to say? Trying to differentiate Alexander Pierce and Steven Rogers was easy. Tearing away the years of physical, emotional and mental abuse even after a year of being under someone’s rule seemed to be the hardest part. Even now, looking up at the king. You had never met someone so kind and genuine. 

“You are not just a servant. You are Lady Y/n, of the Northern Lands. You are an amazing woman, an amazing companion to those around you, and such a gentle soul considering your traumatic past. Everyone truly is graced with your kind presence, even the palace staff, the knight guard. Please, do not think of me as that tyrant. I like to think I actually have a sense of humor.”

You chuckled, a lone tear making its way down your cheek. Steve let your hands go, gently placing them at your sides. 

“They will not step foot onto Northern territory. Rest assured, my lady, I will not rest until your fears have dissipated.”

This time it was Bucky who spoke. You looked over to him through tired, teary eyes. Gods and lords above, the only thing you craved was to just melt into the arms of your knight. 

“It is still at an early hour, Y/n,” Steve nodded to Bucky. “please go back to bed. Sleep if you can, we’ve a long day ahead of us now. We do not acquire your presence until midday. Now please, rest up as much as you can and I shall see you with my betrothed soon.”

Soft hands danced across your shoulders, down your arm until Bucky’s familiar hand grasped yours, gently urging you in the direction of the corridor. It wasn’t until now that you truly realized how tired, sleep deprived you were.

His hands never left you as he led you down the same hallway, the thought of him leaving you alone brought tears to your eyes, a few slipping down your cheek. Exhaustion settled deep in your bones, and if it weren't for the hold he had on you, to the ground you would have gone, like a sack of bricks to the floor.

“What is it, sweet girl?” Bucky frowned at the moisture along your cheek. 

Warmth covered your cheek as he held your hand tightly in his own.

“I do not want you to leave,” your voice came out more of a whimper. Your hands gripped his tunic. “Please, Bucky do not leave me alone, I-I cannot be b-by-”

His hands delicately held your face, his lips coming to gently press against your own, a gentle way to silence you. You nearly melted in his arms, hands coming to rest on his chest. The way he held you, gently cradling your head as if you were the most delicate being in the whole world, you had never been cared for the way he had cared for you. 

“I will stay by your side until my last day.” Bucky whispered against your flushed skin. “I know you are deprived of rest, my sweet girl. You need to sleep, especially with the festivities beginning late midday.” 

Once you reached your chambers, Bucky swept you into his arms, which emitted a surprised gasp from you, though you leaned your head against his shoulder and he walked you over to your bed. As every other time, he was as gentle with you as the last time. 

Placing you on the bed ever so gently, he readjusted the pillows, until he could see that you were comfortable. He covered you with the covers that kept you warm on nights as frigid as the winter storm began to pass.

You nearly succumbed to the slumber instantly, barely felt the knight’s presence slide into the bed behind you. Only a few hours would you rest, both yourself and the captain were to be ready to welcome guests into the palace for the dinner party. 

Eyelids drooping with exhaustion, you turned and pressed your face into Bucky’s chest. “I am scared, Bucky.”

The knight soothed his hands over your back, rubbing circles into your skin in order to calm you. 

“I know. But please, just trust me when I say that they will not harm you again. You have my word, my lady.” he whispered into your ear, pressing a kiss against your temple. “Please, try and get some sleep.” 

You peered up at him through sleep-lidded eyes, remnants of a small smile curving your lips. Though you were too sleep deprived to think straight, you trusted Bucky with every fiber in your body.

---

The chill of the winter air settled in your bones, feet shifting in the boots Ser Herreck Goldum had provided you with. 

Snow and ice crunched under your feet, walking alongside the King and the soon to be Queen. And just as His Majesty had promised, knight guards walked alongside the thrice of you. The Captain, alongside  five of his most trusted men; Wilson, Lang, Barton, Goldum and Maximoff. 

Strong and loyal men who would willingly fight and shed blood for their royals, as you would for Natasha. Tough exteriors to the men, rough around their knightly duties, but gentle in spirit. They guarded around the royal couple, swords sheathed at their hips, the Captain kept his hand on the hilt, ready for anything. 

You stood slightly behind Natasha, bowing every time you met royals from other lands and countries, everyone looked at you with a kind smile.

The heavy cloak that sat around your shoulders kept the winter chill from nipping at your skin. Courtesy of His Majesty who had ordered a cloak to be made for you the moment you stepped foot on his palace grounds. You wondered if Steve was real or rather a dream. 

No Lord or King had ever done that for you.

A light snowfall began to float from the skies, small specks of snow landing in your hair, one even landing atop of your eyelash. You shook your head playfully, the snow shaking away from the clutch it had on your hair, and you could have sworn hearing Bucky laugh under his breath. 

The crowds of people moving closer caught your eye, as well as the flags mounted getting closer with every second. Kings and Queens. Lord and Lady’s

It made you nervous with every passing second, dreading to see the familiar flag of the Eastern kingdom, the dark maroon fabric, two swords clashing with a small saying from the ancient language. 

You stood with a silent smile, bowing to every royal you encountered as both the King and soon to be Queen greeted their guests with kindness and gratuity. Every so often, you would turn your head towards Bucky’s direction to see if he was still behind you, and each time you were met with a gentle smile and cerulean eyes. 

The captain dipped his head slightly, his eyes worried, almost as if they could ask - were you okay?

You nodded and gave him a tight lipped smile. When you had woken up, Bucky was still there next to you, though there was a dread that sat deep in your bones. 

It damn near made you panic for a solid few minutes, but Bucky assured you over and over that they would not see you. He held you until your mind settled and only when it was nearing the middle of the day did he roll out of your bed, quickly pressing his lips against yours. 

Dark, grey clouds loomed over the mountains, you noticed. The once green hills were now covered in several feet of thick snow. You wondered how cold those woods truly were, the thought alone was terrifying.

“Everyone has been so kind today, dearest.” Natasha squeezed her lover's arm. 

The smile that was on your face, albeit a small one, disappeared when your eyes laid on the familiar dark grey fabric, the all too familiar insignia.

Nails dug crescents into your palms as you curled your fingers tightly into a fist. The panic began to swirl throughout your body, feeling the stinging on your palms as the brisk winter chill brush across the courtyard. Despite the bitter cold, you were too hot.

Bucky glanced towards you, eyes narrowed when you did not return his gaze. His eyes trailed down to your hands, where he saw droplets of blood begin to drip in the snow. The knight clenched his jaw tightly for a moment,  his hands ready as they rested on the hilt of his sword. “Which one?”

He looked towards you, awaiting your answer. 

“Grey.” 

Bucky whistled, grabbing Steve’s attention. Two other knights peered in his direction. 

“They are approaching soon. Dark grey flags are the Easterners. They are prohibited from entering the grounds in the North. Let us not forget the pain and suffering our lands went through at the hand of the monsters approaching.”  

Bucky nearly gritted out the last part. Steve nodded and both Goldum and Maximoff stood on either side of the royal couple, hands fixated on the hilt of their swords. Lang, Barton, and Wilson had stood by Bucky, while the captain had placed you directly behind him, in the middle of two other handmaidens. 

Bucky pulled your hood over your head, tucking strands of hair into the hood, so that you would blend in perfectly. Unnoticed. He then grabbed your hands and unpeeled them, wincing one he saw the bloody crescent shaped indents. Crimson dripped out of your hands and into the snow below. A bad habit you had picked up in the East.

“My lady,” he sighed worriedly, but you kept your head down, completely silent. Fortunately, Wanda spared a piece of her apron and tore a long strip off. Together, both Bucky and Wanda worked to wrap your hands quickly, before King Alexander and his monstrous kin approached. 

“I shall see to it that Lady Y/n’s hands get the proper treatment later this evening, Captain Barnes.” Wanda said in a hushed tone, and for that you were eternally grateful. The knight nodded and turned to you, dipping his head to meet your gaze. 

“It will be okay, sweetling. Trust me.” He tightened the hood and both handmaidens did the same. Bucky turned around and heaved a sigh, hand ghosting over the hilt of his sword. “Stay hidden.”

Wanda covered herself with a hood, sliding closer to you, offering her hand, but you were too anxious, too fearful to. But the young maid understood completely, moving her hand to rub up and down your back before drawing her hand back. 

Bucky glanced around, seeing the all too familiar crescent of the Eastern Lands, a grey slithering snake wrapped around a dagger. They began to get closer. A darkness began to loom in, Bucky could feel it. 

“They are approaching. Stay hidden, just until they are out of sight again.” Bucky dipped his head to catch your gaze. You were almost inattentive, disassociating. “The moment they are out of sight.”

He quickly nodded to Wanda and you, after turning around. He whistled, and his knight guard formed a barrier around the royal couple and the two maidens behind. His hand was perched on the hilt of his sword, watching their every move. His every move.

Brock Rumlow. 

Mahogany met cerulean, and from the moment Bucky laid eyes on him again, a darkness covered him. Though, as Captain of the Knight Guard, he had to keep his composure. There were still other monarchs around, some traveling with young children. He did not wish to traumatize any innocent folk, especially not that of a young child. 

“The North is to never associate itself with the darkness that covers the land in the East,” Bucky announced loudly to his men, as more knights followed from the gates. “Let us not forget these are the same men that burnt our people’s homes down, attacked our kingdom. They are not our allies. They are our enemies, and they are forbidden from stepping foot on this land!” His voice raised, with every intention for Alexander Pierce to hear.

Black armor covered the dark princes’ bodies, the emblem of the snake sat directly on their chests. They sneered as the two, Quentin Beck and Brock Rumlow, eyed the knight guard, until falling upon Steve and his bride. 

“Your Majesty, it is a pleasure to be here.” Rumlow bowed, though sloppily. Beck did as well, though his eyes settled on the future Queen. 

“A pleasure indeed. Pleased to meet your acquaintance, Lady Natasha.” 

Bucky stepped in front of her, hand gripped fully on the hilt of his sword. “You are not welcome here.”

“Is that so? Surely you are jesting, for this statement came from a knight.”

King Alexander Pierce’s voice made your skin grow cold. The voice that haunted your dreams, that plagued your mind at random times. The voice you so desperately wanted to keep away from.

You remained stoic, unmoving. 

“Steven-” 

Bucky stepped forward, hand fully gripped on the hilt, “You are not welcome here.”

Quentin Beck’s eyes raked over the captain’s form, though he was not nearly built as Bucky was. He began to take steps back, and Bucky picked up on it, 

“Do not make my knight guard cause a scene here, Alexander.” Steve said. “Let you not forget the pain and suffering you have brought upon my people.The pain you brought on to my mother.”

The King of the East simply chortled, stone cold blue eyes filled with disbelief. “Ah, my deepest regrets-”

“Take your regrets and shove it.” Bucky snapped, eyes boring into the KIngs, into the Princes’. “You are not welcome here!”

Brock Rumlow then stepped forward, bumping chests with Bucky. His brown eyes were filled with nothing but darkness, the same eyes the captain had come into contact with all those years ago. The same ones you had been forced to stare into. 

“Captain Barnes, how ill-minded of you to speak to a king in that tone of voice,” he reprimanded the captain, though he paid no attention to the pathetic prince. “if we were located in our kingdom, you-”

“And that is the beauty of it, Rumlow. We are not in the Eastern lands, now are we?” Bucky interrupted, his demeanor completely shifted to something more fierce. “Last I checked, we are in the North. You have no jurisdiction here.”

Rumlow began to push forwards, and the knight had enough, and forcefully shoved the price so hard that he slipped on the ice, landing on his rear. 

The sounds of swords unsheathing began to fill the air, as two Eastern knights, Jack Rollins and Grant Ward began to step forward, as did Wilson, Barton and Lang, swords in hand, ready for anything.

“I do not wish to repeat myself; you are not welcome here. Let us not make a scene in front of every other kingdom within the greater distance and ruin your reputation further, Pierce. The North has officially cut ties with the East from this very moment until further notice.” Bucky stepped forward, pushing Rumlow away from the royal couple and pointing his sword, as did the rest of his knight guard. 

Steve pulled Natasha away, just as Bucky had begun to get irate. Alexander Pierce forced a laugh and patted Quentin and Brock’s shoulders, halting them in their stance as they began to charge.

“Easy, you two.” the king began to retreat back to the carriage, as did the princes. “We must obey as we are in their land. But worry not, Captain Barnes, we will be meeting again. In the very future.”

Bucky did not like that, not in the slightest. He did not falter in his stance, not until the Easterners began to retreat, until they were clear over the snowy hills. The captain then released a heavy, tense breath. 

“I do not like that last message.” Steve came up to Bucky, concerned eyes that bored into his own. Bucky agreed, nodding as he looked back at your direction for a moment, though there was no change in your stance. 

The knight sheathed his sword back into place and soon his men followed in suit. “I will double the night watch when dusk comes. To ease your worries.”

Natasha watched as the two conversed, though her mind went straight to you. She quickly turned around and made her way over to you, reaching for your hands when she saw them wrapped in the fabric of Wanda’s apron. Specks of crimson peaked through the fabric.

“Y/n…” she began, and you looked up, eyes wide with tears brimming at your waterline. “They are gone, my dearest.” She reached out and wiped a tear that fell from your eye. “Captain Barnes will ensure that there is protection for us all tomorrow.”

You let out a shuddered breath, and Natasha glanced behind her to see only a few carriages left that were about to greet the betrothed couple. She squeezed your forearms and you nodded, taking in a deep breath. “I know he will.”

She gave you an encouraging smile as she stepped back into line with Steve. Bucky walked back to his position next to you, and when his eyes met yours, cerulean softened instantaneously. He could tell the panic and fear that surged through you when you heard the voice that haunted your dreams.

“He will not give up.” you said quietly, tears slipped over your cheeks. “They will be back.”

Bucky’s jaw was clenched tightly. He knew they would be. There was no denying the fact, not when Alexander’s Pierce’s final words before ascending over the hills; But worry not, Captain Barnes, we will be meeting again. In the very future

“Please trust me, my lady. The safety of the King and Queen is my only objective, and that includes you,” Bucky whispered to you, eyes boring into your tear filled ones. “As the Queen’s Lady, trust I will not let anything happen to you.”

You trusted him with your life, but Alexander Pierce was steadfast, tenacious. He would not give up until he got what he wanted. What he wanted, you did not have a clue. You only hoped that they did not know you were even here. 

You had only hoped. 

---

The rest of the afternoon felt numb to you. 

It was not long until Steve and Natasha began to make their way back into the castle, you and the rest of the maidens followed them back to the palace. 

A quick rehearsal dinner was all that was left in the day, you reminded yourself. You took your place in the hall, observing as Steve and Natasha began their routine, arms linked as they led each other to their seats.

It was nearing dusk, and you were exhausted from the day. From the very early hours of the morning, the few hours of sleep, the whole interaction hours earlier. It was a lot to take in, and your hands still needed to be tended to. You supposed you could do it yourself, you did not want to burden anyone else today. 

“Y/n?” You straightened up upon hearing Steve’s voice. He had begun to approach you with a soft, sympathetic smile. “Please, go rest for the rest of the night. I cannot fathom how difficult it was earlier today for you.”

Shaking your head, you began to detest, insisting you were fine.

“I hate to say this, but as your King, I am ordering your dismissal for the night.” he said, though he was jesting in an unserious tone, it brought a smile to your face. 

“Yes, Your Majesty.” you said, dipping into a curtsey. You smiled at him, eyes going from the king to your best friend, who smiled and winked at you. 

You excused yourself for the night and made your way into the halls, making your way to your chambers. You were relieved to be under the rule of such a kind, generous man. Total opposite from the  man you had been i close proximity merely hours ago.

Entering your space never felt so good. You quickly peeled off your dress and replaced it with your nightgown, desperate for a good night rest.

Before anything, you needed to get your hands cleaned. It would not be the first time you had cleaned yourself up. Just as you were ready to situate yourself, the door suddenly opened, and you could feel the presence of your knight.

You did not have to turn around to know that it was Bucky. 

“Hi,” you whispered, turning around to face him. He was dressed in a loose tunic and pants, he looked as though he was about to retire for the night as well.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he replied softly, making his way over to you as he gently grasped your face, thumb caressing your cheek. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against your lips. 

When he pulled away, he took your wrapped hands in his and began to untie the torn fabric, revealing the crescent indents from your nails, dried blood covered your palms. 

Without another word, Bucky began to reach for the medical supplies you had pulled out, prepared to clean the wounds himself. He guided you towards your bed and lifted you up, adjusting so that he made sure you were comfortable and began to clean.

You sat in silence, the damp cloth gently painted over your palms, ridding the dried blood away. When he spread the gel, the stinging did not affect you. You were so exhausted, the only thing you yearned for in the moment was rest and sleep. Before you knew it, Bucky began to wrap your hands in the gauze around your hands. 

“All done, sweet girl,” Bucky whispered softly, and he leaned down to press kisses against your bandaged palms. You smiled at him, softly thanking him before a yawn took over you. 

You stretched out your legs before scooting over to the other side of the bed, a silent invitation for the knight. The soft cotton of your sleeves felt soft against your cheek as you turned on your stomach, arms folding underneath your head. 

“What?” you whispered under his gaze.

“Nothing. You are just… so beautiful.” Bucky said, laying down on the open spot next to you. He sprawled out on his side, his arm propped up his head, chin resting in hand as he gazed down on you. 

Flipping yourself on your side, you looked at him , cheeks heating as he rested his other hand on your cheek, leaning forward to capture your lips in a long, soft kiss. 

He pulled away after several long seconds, dipping down to kiss your exposed neck, goosebumps littered your skin as he kissed the sensitive skin. You sighed, eyes closing shut as he kissed around the column of your throat. In all your years, no one had ever shown you the affection that Bucky had shown you. 

From the moment you stepped foot in the Northern territory, he had been instantly enamoured. Now, several months later the two of you laid in bed together, even after the stressful events of the day, you felt a moment of peace. 

Bucky pulled away from your neck, leaning down to kiss your lips once again, he whispered against your lips, “I love you.”

A small gasp left your lips, eyes opening as they made contact with cerulean. He caressed your cheek, hand brushing over your forehead, over your hair. “You do not have to repeat it back to me, but I wish to tell you how I feel about you.” 

Bucky ran his hand over your hair, eyes filled with nothing but adoration when he looked at you. You opened your mouth, but another yawn had overtaken you, eyes drooping. 

“I think it is time for you to get some proper rest, my sweet girl,” he whispered, bringing the covers over himself and you. He pulled you closer to him, so that your head rested on his chest. 

A kiss to your head, the world began to get dark and darker, until your eyes were fully shut. Within a few minutes, your breathing had evened out, indicating you had finally fallen asleep. 

Bucky wrapped the blankets tightly around you before he found himself starting to lull to sleep, his grip on you never faltering.

“Yes, honey,” Bucky chuckled, tightening the straps over your back. “Just cause Steve says it’s empty doesn’t mean it is. I can’t risk anything happening to you, therefore you get to wear my vest.” He winked at you and tightened the last strap across your abdomen. “Gotta keep my girl safe, now don’t I?”

You smiled sheepishly and nodded, continued to watch him strap a few guns and knives to his body. Exhaling a tense sigh, you ran your sweaty palms down the side of your tactical uniform, Bucky noticed. “It’s gonna be okay, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

“I know,” you whispered, grabbing his hand. “I’m not exactly equipped for these types of missions, I’m just a little nervous.” 

Bucky’s eyes softened when he heard the small crack in your voice, his hands encased around yours and he tenderly pressed a kiss to the back of your palm. “I’m gonna be right by your side the entire time.”

You bobbed your head, taking in a deep breath as Bucky gently slid a gun into the holster on your thigh. “But just in case.”

The two of you had been assigned to track down a lone mercenary in the middle of western Canada. The stormy weather had made it difficult for the jet sensors to get a read on the building that sat in a nearly empty forest.

A mercenary hacker under the name Roman Donovan had been on Tony Stark’s radar for quite some time, after noticing the many sudden security pop ups, indicating that Donovan had smothered his way into Tony’s tech. Both Steve and Tony had been working relentlessly to find a position on him, until a sudden location popped up. 

You had your doubts, whether you were the best candidate for this mission, but Steve had reassured you with your technical and computer knowledge that you were the perfect fit.  A squeeze to your hand reminded you that Bucky would be with you every step of the way.

With a nod from you, Bucky placed the small comm device into your ear, tapping it a few times so he could hear the breaths that left your lips. He slipped one into his ear as well, tapping it a few times until he could catch the chatter of the two agents in the cockpit of the jet. 

“Prescott and Logan, stand by. We’ll radio you in case we need backup,” Bucky announced, pressing the button that opened up the ramp of the jet. He turned to you with a soft, comforting smile. “It’s just a simple extraction of files,” he reminded with a gentle hand to your back. “Ready?”

A final nod of your head, you looked at him. Ready.”

---

The building had been vacant this far, Bucky had led the both of you to the control room where you rapidly typed on the main computer. Bucky stood by the door, sending cautious glances over his shoulder every few seconds to survey the dark hallway. 

“I’m almost done,” you called out to him, fingers dancing across the keyboard, desperately pushing into the numbers and letters faster. “It had more firewalls than I expected.”

Bucky glanced over in your direction, a frown taking over his features. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Not necessarily. Just means this guy wants to keep people like me out of his stuff,” you mumbled. Bucky chuckled under his breath.

A few more clicks to the keyboard, you powered off the system and the flash drive ejected  out of the main computer. Stepping back, you watched the monitors as the files slowly disappeared from folders and main screen savers, until all the screens went dark. 

“I think I got it,” you muttered, eyes wide as they focused on the screens. The flash drive began to flicker a blue color, indicating that the files had transferred successfully without a trace of Stark technology.

The loud slamming of a door alerted Bucky, as he raised his rifle up, pointing towards the sudden sound. You pocketed the flash drive and raised your head at the sudden sound, eyes filled with confusion as they flickered over to Bucky’s alarmed blue ones.

“Get behind me,” You quickly made your way over to him and his hand immediately darted out to grab your wrist. Though you could feel the tension riding off his body in waves, his hold on your arm was gentle. “Stay low.”

You nodded and grasped the back of Bucky’s tactical vest, fisting the thick fabric. With a cautious foot forwards, Bucky stepped out into the hallway, taking slow, steady steps into the dimly lit corridor. 

Your hands made their way from the fabric of his shirt to his vibranium hand, and you gripped as tightly as you could, in a way to ground you. He couldn’t feel the tight pressure, but he could feel the weight of your hand in his. 

The two of you stealthily made your way through sets of hallways and stairwells, inching closer and closer to the doorway, until the loud slamming of boots against the tile floors halted you in your stance. Fear corrupted every fiber of your body, you couldn’t take your eyes off the panicked look in Bucky’s blue ones. 

You felt Bucky push you away behind him, before a sudden force knocked him to the ground, grunts passed through his lips. 

“Y/n, run!”

Not looking back, you trusted Bucky enough to know that he would make it out unscathed, with only a few scrapes and bruises. You, however, were not a field trained agent, with little  combat knowledge. You bolted the other direction, on the way to warn the two agents standing by in the jet.

“I need backup! Logan, Prescott, to the northeast side of the building, now!”

It wasn’t until you felt the pull of your vest and the weight of someone did you register your head slam against the ground, rather harshly. A strangled cry left your lips when you felt a needle puncture your skin, just at the conjunction between your shoulder and neck. 

His hand pressed down on your neck harshly, cutting off your air supply, but you were frozen in fear - he head injected something into your skin. You did not find the strength to fight back.

Fear paralyzed every fiber of your body.

Grunts and strangled screams were heard, you didn’t know if it came from you, but suddenly the weight was lifted off you, though you registered nothing of it. A few greedy breaths of fresh air. The pulsing of your heartbeat rang out in your ear, chiming and pudding against your skull. You laid frozen.

“Y/n is down, I have Donovan apprehended. I need backup, please!” Bucky spoke into the comms a moment later as he threw the hacker on his stomach and pinned his wrists behind his back. He was tempted to sap his wrist, but he held back. 

“Roman Donovan, you are a hard son of a bitch to find,” Bucky growled in his ear, reaching into his vest to pull out a pair of wrist restraints, tightening them to Donovan’s wrist. The man yelled in pain and discomfort.

Bucky glanced over to you, eyes softening when he took in your fragile form on the concrete. You just laid there, almost lifeless, but once Bucky saw the rise and fall of your chest, only a little relief came to him. It quickly rushed away when blue eyes focused on the empty syringe near your foot. 

“There’s a lot more pain coming your way. What did you inject her with?” Bucky yelled viciously, grabbing Donovan roughly by the hair. But the man simply let out a dark chuckle, eyes narrowing on you. The way weak coughs passed through your lips, the way you burrowed deeper into yourself.

“I know your weak spots, James Barnes.” was all he said. 

The hurried footsteps of Prescott and Logan reached his ears and Bucky abruptly stood up  and watched the two agents haul the mercenary to his feet and slam him against the wall, patting him, finding a gun strapped to his back and a small grenade. 

“Secure him to the panel near the bay doors. Bastard can fly out for all I care.” 

Bucky wasted no time in making his way over to you. A gentle hand soothed comforting circles up and down your arm, gently coaxing you and Bucky gently lifted you up in his arms and leant you against the wall, concerned as your head lolled back. 

“Baby, are you okay?” His panicked gaze flickered from the bleeding gash on your temple, to the light bruising around your neck, the small dot of blood at the conjunction between your neck and shoulder. He sighed, bringing a hand to rest on your cheek. “Y/n, answer me baby, what hurts?”

Your eyes were clenched shut and you brought a shaky hand to rest over Bucky’s, and you lifted your gaze to meet his worried blue ones. “I’m okay… I think.”

“You think?” Bucky asked, running a hand over your hair. 

“I-I don’t know, I feel fuzzy,” you mumbled, leaning your head back against the wall. 

Taking slow, deep breaths, you felt Bucky rub slow, soothing circles up and down your thigh. There was a buzzing sensation circling throughout your temples, down to your cheeks, along our jaw until it spread through the rest of your body. 

“Deep breaths in and out, baby,” Bucky whispered soothingly, leaning down to kiss your knee.

But then, in a moment or two, you felt it suddenly disperse. As if the wave of numbness rid itself out of your body. You allowed Bucky to help you to your feet, brushing his hands over the front of the vest before making sure you had no further injuries. 

“We’ll check you over at the compound,” Bucky said as he wrapped an arm around your waist and led you down the hall, following the two agents in suit. “Let’s get out of here.”

---

Bucky watched helplessly as he and Steve watched as Dr. Cho and her team scanned over your body. He couldn’t imagine how confused and scared you were, hands gripping the sheets. Your first field mission had been a complete disaster. Bruce walked in, the used syringe in an examination tube. 

“What do you think he injected her with?” Bucky asked after a couple of minutes of silence.

“It’s weird,” Bruce began, handing the folder over to Bucky. 

“I pushed it through a scanner, to see if I could find any sort of answer to what this is. All tests come back negative for a virus or disease. Has she had any of her symptoms progress on the way home?”

Bucky shook his head, “No, she’s just been… frozen, paralyzed almost. He has injected her with something; I saw the blood on her neck and it seemed like he had tried to… kill her or something.”

“You think he would?”

“Why else would he press his fucking hand over her throat?”

“That, I am not sure. So unless she starts to show signs of some sort of sickness, I unfortunately have no answers. I’ll check in with Tony, see if he has any answers. I’ll keep you guys updated.”

“Thanks, Bruce.” Bucky sighed, watching as the doctor left. He opened the file, reading over the diagnosis levels. “I still don’t get it.”

Steve hummed, taking the file out of his hand. 

“The only thing he said to me was ‘I know your weak spots’ and then called me out by name. But I have never come into contact with this guy, not even as the Winter Soldier. The dude is early twenties and lived with his grandma in east Maryland up until two years ago, living in some studio in Princeton up in Jersey. How the hell did he end up in Canada?”

“That doesn’t track at all. Unless he has dug up on all of us. He probably just wanted to get you by surprise.” Steve said. “Real name is Benjamin Croot. 24 years old.”

“Sergeant Barnes,” Dr. Cho’s voice broke through on the intercom. “She is asking for you.”

Bucky moved faster than he could process. He rushed through the doors and you turned your head at the sound of his boots. 

“Is she okay? She’s not hurt or anything?” Worried questions spewed out, his hands came to grip yours as tight without hurting you. He brushed his hand over your warm, sweaty forehead. “She’s warm.”

Dr. Cho nodded. “My team ran all the tests imaginable for this certain… situation. And everything came back negative, which worries me. If what Y/n described is true, then he must have injected her with something that is lethal or close to being lethal.

“She said to have felt numb, fuzzy almost. Those are usually the signs of a virus or even… a pathogen starts to form. But what I don’t get is that I could not find a single trace of.. well anything really.”

“Dr. Banner doesn’t have an answer either, though he’s checking in with Stark as we speak.” Bucky said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “What should we do? Keep her here?”

The woman sighed, pieces of her hair falling from the neat bun. “Honestly, I’m not sure. Part of me wants to keep her in the medical wing, just in case, but her stats are all normal, though her temperature is abnormally high.”

“How high?”

She flipped open the chart. You hadn’t really been present in the time either of them were talking. You were just so tired. Physically and mentally. 

“The last time I took it, her temperature was sitting at about 100.5, which isn’t that bad, but it’s not great either. So, I would advise to just rest for the night, and when she wakes up we will run a couple more tests, see if anything has changed.”

Bucky nodded, squeezing your hand as the doctor excused herself. 

“Whatcha thinkin’, sweetheart?” Bucky sat on the edge of the cot, brushing hair away from your eyes. 

“Tired.” He could tell your energy was scarce.

“Let’s go to bed then, hm.”

His movements started before you even had the chance to reply. As gently as he could, he slid his arms around your waist and shoulders and helped you up to your feet. The two of you made your way from the medical bay to the residential wing, to yours and Bucky’s shared room.

“Don’t you have the interrogation to do?” you mumbled, watching his features contort when he pressed his thumb against the scanner and led you into the room. In your fuzzy mind, you barely registered Bucky’s touch as he gently peeled your uniform off and slid your pajamas on.

“I’ll do it tomorrow. Besides it’s late, sweetheart and I think I speak for the both of us when I say it’s been a long day,” He gently eased you onto the bed, gently covering your form with a blanket. 

A shiver racked through you and Bucky watched with a concerned look as you tightened the blanket around your shoulders. He flicked off the lights and crawled into bed next to and wrapped an arm around your waist. 

“Sleep, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” You faintly nodded and relaxed into his hold, feeling his hands run smoothly up and down your arms. The faint glow of the television set and the low volume did nothing to tear you from your due slumber, though you faintly felt the coolness of Bucky’s appendage running over your hair before you slipped into a dreamless sleep.

---

Sweat coated every part of your body as you woke up with a sharp gasp of air. 

Pounding temples, you peeled your eyes open and sat up; the faint glow of the TV caught your eye. The movie Bucky played had finished and had been playing in an endless loop. 

The clock on your nightstand read 2:07am, you reached for the cup of water and took slow sips, barely and faintly registering the sounds of Bucky’s light snores. 

You felt the nausea before anything else. It ran from your stomach up to your chest and you clamped a hand over your mouth, threw off the covers and made a beeline for the bathroom. 

That was until a wave of dizziness hit you and your knees buckled. Vision tunneling, you would have fallen to the floor if it weren’t for the strong pair of arms that wrapped around your waist before you could touch the carpet. I’ve got you, a tired voice murmured, but your hazy mind didn’t hear the quiet mutter.

The warmth of Bucky’s chest touched your heated back as he sped to the bathroom, flicked on the light and watched helplessly as you crashed to your knees and emptied what was in your stomach into the toilet. 

Bucky kneeled behind you and grasped your hair in one hand and rubbed soothing circles along your back. He felt you slacken in his arms, head resting back against his shoulder and when he pressed his palm flat against your forehead, he almost hissed at the radiating heat.

“You’re burnin’ up, sweetheart,” His wide blue eyes darted to your half-lidded ones, cerulean darting over your sweaty, clammy skin. 

“I don’t feel good.” you croaked. 

It hit him in one, big wave as he took over your tattered form. The confusion, the fatigue, to your spiked fever, Something wasn’t right, considering the fact that you rarely felt under the weather.

Those are usually the signs of a virus or even… a pathogen starts to form. Cho’s voice rang in his voice

Weakly, you flushed the toilet and leaned back into Bucky. Shivers racked through your body and Bucky peeled your shirt off your shoulder to see a dark blooming bruise where Donovan had injected the needle. 

“FRIDAY, wake Steve and Dr. Cho. Tell them to meet me in the medical wing,” Bucky called for the AI and slipped his hand under your back and knees and lifted you up against his chest. 

You jolted slightly, dizziness clouding your mind as Bucky stood up. You were limp in his arms, like jell-o.

The cool air of the hallway felt like a slap in the face, you pressed your cheek into the warmth of Bucky. A low whine passed through your lips and Bucky ran his thumb just below the back of your knee. 

“Buck,” Steve called, eyes widening as they fell on your shivering form. “What happened?”

But Bucky didn’t stop his movements, he spared a glance to Steve and kept heading towards the direction of the medical bay. Steve followed Bucky’s fast pace, quickly matching his speed.

“Her temperature is too high,” Bucky said, glancing over at his friend. “When we checked into the medbay, Cho noticed that her temperature was a little higher than normal, but when she got up a couple minutes ago, she was burning hot.”

A slick sheet of sweat coated your forehead, Steve noticed, and how small tremors racked through your body every so often. His eyes fell to the darkening bruise on your shoulder, Bucky caught his eye. 

“I think she was laced with something.”

Your fingers grazed the fabric of his shirt and Bucky looked down, continuing his trek to the medical wing with Steve hot on his tail. You could feel the rapid thumping of Bucky’s heartbeat as you weakly bunched his shirt in your fist.

“Laced? Laced with what?” Steve questioned as he rounded the corner, eyes locking onto Cho’s at the end of the hall.

Bucky looked down at you, clammy skin, eyes barely open, though you kept a strong grip on his shirt. “I don’t know.”

Everything was hazy the moment Bucky set you down on the hospital bed. Though sweat coated nearly every inch of your body, shivers racked through your body relentlessly. It was sweltering and freezing simultaneously. 

Nurses rushed around you, obstructing Bucky’s view from you, one of them placed a cannula just under your nose, an IV into your arm. The thought of more needles sinking into your skin made you sick. 

The last time someone used a needle on you, he was malicious as he jammed the needle into neck harshly. The memory brought nothing but fear to you. 

You were hot. Uncomfortable. The pain in your head was nearly unbearable.

“Bucky,” you called out, only it came out more of a whimper. “W-where’s Bucky?”

Metal clamped gently on your hand, the other hand coming to smoothly brush your sweaty hair back. “I’m here baby, I’m right here.” 

“It… it hurts,” Bucky watched as another nurse attempted to put another needle through your skin, he noticed the subtle shaking of your head, the whimpers.

“Is that really necessary?” he asked with a sharp glare, it melted away when he looked over at you. “What is it, baby? What hurts?”

“My head.”

Worried eyes wandered over to Cho’s as she placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Sergeant Barnes, I understand you want to offer her comfort, but I can assure she is in good hands with my team.” 

Bucky nodded, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek. His finger trailed over your forehead gently, and when he saw Steve and Sam in his peripherals, he sighed to himself. “I’ll check up on you later, sweet girl. I have something to take care of.”

You nodded drowsily, the dizziness taking control. 

Bucky reluctantly moved away from your bedside to his two closest friends, solemn looks on their faces. Sam kept his eyes on you, watching as the nurses took your temperature.

“How is she?” he asked. Bucky kept his eye on you the entire time, watching your tired eyes start to close. 

“It’s not looking good,” Bucky sighed. “Her temperature is extremely high, nausea, light-headed and dizziness. Whatever this bastard did to her, he has to deal with me now.”

“He’s downstairs, whenever you’re ready.” Steve said, his eyes laying on your frail body. “It is 2 in the morning and one of my teammates is lying on a hospital bed with a fever of over 100 degrees and a migraine that’s probably killing her. Let’s get this over with.”

---

Roman Donovan sat in a cold, bright room, hands cuffed to the tables with two SHIELD agents armed standing at the entrance. A smug smirk sat on his face as he fidgeted with his fingers. His head perked up at the sound of the door opening. 

“Well, if it isn’t the mighty Winter Soldier, what a traitor you are to your own country, huh? I mean, working for the people who you literally fought against-” Sam walked behind him and gripped his shoulders tightly, fingers digging into his muscles. 

“I am only gonna say this once, so you better fucking listen to me. What did you do to her?”  

Donovan chuckled, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, old man.”

Bucky shook his head, vibranium fist clenched. 

“You know, Roman, this guy isn’t too fond of repeating himself. Especially to arrogant assholes like you.”

“What did you do to her, Donovan?” Bucky was strangely calm.. “You know the woman you attacked earlier, the one whose throat you almost crushed after you injected her with drugs? She’s got three degrees in chemistry, computer engineering and computer science, so I get why you, a man of your personality, would go after someone who is not strong enough to put up a fight against you.” 

Steve looked on through the window, phone pinging. He pulled it out, the text from Natasha sent dread through himself. 

Temperature over 105, tests coming back positive for some type of influenza. Cho is really worried. Not looking too good for her.

“Shit.”

He went on and walked into the room, leaning over to where Sam stood. 

“So aggressive, James. And for what reason?”

Sam chuckled, crossing his arms. “If you think this is aggressive, you’re in for a ride.”

“I’m gonna ask one more time, and if I don’t get an answer, that means you’re straight up out of luck.” Bucky leaned forward, black and gold vibranium reached for the chain of his restraints and pulled him down, causing Donovan to hit his head. “What did you inject her with?”

The man tilted his head, blood dripping down his cheek. “What makes you think I injected her with anything?” he cockily sneered. “I thought all the Avengers were required to be knowledgeable in the field, cause let me tell you, Sergeant, that little girlfriend of yours is such an easy target.” 

Steve nudged Sam, leaning his phone towards his eyeline, showing the text message. Sam felt a pang of worry settle deep in his stomach, sharing a worried glance with him. 

There wasn’t much time left for you. 

Steve stepped forward, pulling Bucky aside to show him the text message. 

Blue eyes raked over the words he had been dreading the most. "Not looking too good for her.”

“Well Donovan, I want my answer.”

The man smirked. “Yeah? Or what?”

Bucky’s left hand reached out and grabbed a fistful of Donovan’s hair and slammed his head against the metal desk one time only, though it was enough to break the man’s nose. Screams of pain resounded in the small but soundproof room. 

“No one’s gonna hear you, Donovan! Those guys with the big ass guns? They’re not gonna help you either. Not when one of their own is about to die in this building. And so help me, Benjamin,” Bucky sneered into his ear, the man’s eyes wide with fear, “if she dies under your hand, there is nothing on the green earth that is going to stop me from tearing you apart. I’m gonna ask one more time, what did you inject her with?”

“A deadly pathogen! It’s a pathogen that kills its hosts within 24 hours of it being administered.”

Bucky’s eyes glanced at the clock. 2:58 AM. It was a late night mission, the jet had landed in Canada at 7:45 PM. Meaning you had to have been injected with it at 8:00 or so. Meaning six hours had already passed, he had eighteen hours left. You had eighteen hours left.

“Did you know adults that experience fevers that go over 105 degrees can run into complications causing serious implications of brain damage,” Sam blurted out. “means you’re in the dog house if we lose her. And ain’t a single one of us is gonna stop that mean.”

“Is there an antidote for it?” 

Donovan nodded. Bucky slammed a pen and a notepad down on the table, causing the man to jump in fear. “I suggest you better start writing it down. Now you get to deal with Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. Better start writing.”

Eighteen hours would go by quickly. 

---

“Sergeant, it’s not looking good for her,” Dr. Cho said, voice breaking slightly. “This virus that she’s fighting, it’s too strong.”

Bucky looked through the window, heart shattering as his blue eyes fell on the breathing mask they covered your mouth with, the tubes that kept you hydrated. You looked so… lifeless. Natasha sat by your side, her hand gripping your wrist, though you were so out of it, eyes barely open.

“He injected her with some sort of influenza. He knows the antidote, but he has less than eighteen hours.”

She noticed the worried look in his eyes. 

“She was constantly asking for you. Even in a state of being delirious, she was still calling for you. Natasha was able to calm her down.”

The soldier gulped. “Is… is she going to die?” 

For a moment, Dr. Cho couldn’t answer. She didn’t know the probability of the antidote being made on time. 

“James, I cannot answer that. But what I can say is that I will do everything in my power to keep her alive. She’s a fighter.” With that, she excused herself. Bucky stood still for a moment before pushing the door open.

The sounds of your heart monitor and the sounds of oxygen traveling through the tubes filled the room. Natasha’s emerald eyes met Bucky’s, a small smile presented on her face. 

“Any updates yet?” she asked, but it fell on deaf ears as Bucky kneeled at your bedside, grasping your limp hand tightly in his. 

The amount of pain that swirled in his mind was almost too unbearable. Your eyes met his, though you couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. Tears welled in your eyes as they rushed down your cheeks. 

“It’s okay, my love. I am right here.” His voice was above a whisper and pressed a kiss to your palm. “Tony and Bruce are gonna find a cure for you, honey. I promise. It’ll all be okay.” He felt you weakly try to grasp his hand back, but the action alone made you more tired. 

“I love you so much, baby. Words can’t comprehend my love for you. I want you to know that,” Tears welled in his own eyes, his hands reached up to cradle your cheek. You leaned into him. “I love you.”

Your skin was so warm under his touch. His eyes read over the stats on the open chart, seeing your temperature rise every hour. 

“She was injected with some sort of influenza. Tony and Bruce are working right now.” 

“Did you find anything else?”

Bucky kissed your hand, gently guiding your head back on the pillows. “Son of a bitch has the antidote. Had to break his nose just to get him to spill it out.” 

Natasha placed her hand on his shoulder. “I will stay with her and I’ll alert you guys if anything changes. Just try to hurry.”

Bucky nodded and leaned down, hugging your frail, weakened body and pressed a kiss against your chapped lips. “I love you, Y/n. I’m gonna fix this.”

He did not spare Natasha a glance as he stormed out of the medical wing, boots stomping with every step he took. Long strides took him to the end of the hall, where the elevator was.

“FRIDAY, where is Stark and Banner?”

“Both are in Mr. Stark’s lab. Shall I notify them that you are coming?”

“Tell them I have a stop to make first.” Bucky slammed the button to the interrogation level. “ I’m coming with the antidote.”

---

Donovan jumped in his seat when the doors opened, revealing the shadow of Bucky’s figure. A knife sat in his hand. The prisoner visibly shivered. 

“You know what I’m here for, Donovan.” 

“Come on, man! It hasn’t even been-”

The knife that was once held in Bucky’s hand was now lodged into metal table, an inch away from Donovan’s finger. 

“You’re fucking crazy!” 

“What happened to the tough guy act, huh? You wanted to act all big and bad up in Canada. Why the sudden change of heart?” Bucky taunted him, walking closer to the pad of paper that had been scribbled on, step by step, three pages, front and back. “Remember, you’re targeting my weak spot.”

He seemed ashamed, guilty almost. But it wasn’t because your life was in jeopardy. It was because he was caught, with no one left to save him. 

“You know, you’re already facing five counts of criminal charges of unauthorized access into government systems, you wanna add a murder charge to that? Assault with intent to cause bodily harm? That sounds like fifty years to me, that is with just the unauthorized access charges.” Bucky sat down across from him. “And if this,” he held up the paper, “isn’t true or it doesn’t cure her, you’re facing a very serious murder charge of a federal agent.”

“You’re nothing but a coward, Benjamin Croot. Tough guy act falls the minute you’re faced against someone who overpowers you. You’re gonna rot in that prison for the rest of your life.”  

---

It was morning.

The sun had risen fully. 

10:47 AM

Tony and Bruce had been hard at work, trying to figure out the antidote. It was nearing the afternoon, and they had been at it since nearly four in the morning. But neither were giving up. Not when your life was on a timer.

Bucky had dropped off the paper before going back up to the medical bay, spending his time with you. He hadn’t slept since he first woke up, his groggy eyes immediately landing on you staggering to the bathroom.

He laid in the small bed with you, balancing himself on the edge, giving you all the space. He had laid a damp rag over your forehead, in hope to cool you down a little. Tremors racked through your body suddenly, Bucky jolted. 

You laid still for a moment, eyes clenched shut, brows furrowed. An unpleasant gurgling sound came from you, body jerking slightly. Bucky’s eyes widened and he pressed the call button repeatedly before running to your side. You weren’t awake, you were warmer than before, heartbeat rapid as the monitor started to go crazy, alarms blasting. Dr. Cho and a couple nurses suddenly bursted into the room, eyes wide

“What’s wrong? What’s happening to her?” Bucky cried out, helplessly watching as they pushed you on the side. 

“She’s choking. Her lungs are filling up with fluids, and if we don't drain it, she will lose her.” Bucky’s eyes filled with horror. “Sergeant Barnes, I know you’re concerned for her health and safety, but I need my full attention if I’m gonna save her. Please.”

Bucky wordlessly nodded, his eyes fixated on your body, your face. 

Eyes closed.

Pale skin.

Lifeless, almost. 

The monitor flatlined. Bucky was pushed out of the room. Sheets pulled around your bed as voices screamed and yelled, though it was all distorted. 

“Bucky?” He turned to Sam, tears spilled over his cheeks. 

“She’s…” A cry got caught in his throat. “she’s flatlining.”

Chocolate eyes widened. 

“I need to find Tony and Bruce.”

Sam loved you like a sister. The two of you had always been close, ever since you joined the team. And when Sam laid eyes on you, defibrillator pads pressed on the exposed skin of your chest, head laid back, a knife twisted into his heart. 

Neither men didn’t move a muscle until the flatline changed to a faint beeping. 

---

“Please tell me you’re somewhat close to putting an antidote together.” Bucky and Sam pushed through the doors. Tony looked up, “How is she?”

“She’s running out of time, she flatlined for a minute,” Bucky rambled out. “Please, Tony. What do you have so far?”

“It’s almost done, I think. We followed every single one of the steps, used past remedies that have helped even Thor himself from a virus. But if this guys even altered one of these steps-”

“He’ll have to face me then.” Bucky finished. “Is it ready?” Tony nodded, though he had a look of hesitancy. “What is it?”

Tony looked over at Bruce, having just placed the antidote in the freezer. “It needs to maintain a temperature of -50 degrees. Meaning…”

“You need to bring her down here, or else it won’t work. I have all the medical supplies she’ll need down here. I just need you to transport her.” 

“I’ll do it.” Bucky said, not that anyone else would have even offered. “Have every single thing ready by the time I step foot in here.”

“I’ll inform Cho.”

Both scientists nodded, scrambling to ready the emergency medical cot. Sam followed Bucky as they raced through the stairwell, racing up the stairs, though adrenaline gave Bucky all the energy in the world it seemed. 

Once he reached the room, Sam sprinted to ready the elevators, to get you to the lab as quickly as possible. Dr. Cho had removed all the tubes and wires off of you, only an oxygen mask with a tank attached. 

“Come on, baby,” Bucky strapped the oxygen tank to his back and slid his arms underneath your knees and shoulders, and ever so gently he lifted you up, grey hospital gown drenched in sweat. Your head lolled back, arms and legs completely limp. “I got you, baby, I’ve got you.”

With you laid against his chest, he moved swiftly, his pace faster than normal and it wasn’t long until he was in the elevator with you, nearly unconscious in his arms. Bucky looked down at you and rested his forehead against your sweaty hair, though it did not bother him in the slightest. 

Your brows furrowed for a moment, followed by a whimper. “We’re getting there, love. We’re almost there.”

The doors opened and Bucky made a beeline for the lab doors, immediately going to the corner of the room where they had the cot set up. As gently as he could, he cradled the back of your head as he placed you down on the mat, softly placing the tank on the ground. 

“Okay, now Tony.” Bruce unbuttoned the gown at the shoulder, revealing where you were attacked. Bucky held the side of your face, caressing your cheek. 

He had placed a part of his armor on the hand piece as he took it out of the freezer, glancing  at the space from the freezer to you, and in two big strides he held the needle just above the darkening bruise and quickly administered it into your skin. He pressed the button and a fluid was shot into your shoulder.

Your body shuddered for a moment, there was no sudden movement from you.

It was the longest minute of Bucky’s life, his eyes filling up with tears. The sudden rise and fall of your chest kept getting  stronger with every breath you sucked in. The bruise surrounding your shoulder slowly vanished, your natural skin color coming back. 

When your eyes peeled open, Bucky nearly sobbed in relief, crashing on his knees as he gripped your arms. 

“Y/n, baby, can you hear me?” he pleaded desperately. 

“B-Bucky,” your voice was raspy and raw.

“Oh my god, you’re okay. You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” he muttered over and over like a mantra, cradling the back of your head as he peppered your forehead and cheeks with kisses. You were still a little warm, not as life threatening as it was beforehand.

“W-where am I?” you tiredly asked, eyes roaming around the lab. “What happened?”

 Bucky gently took the oxygen mask off, replacing it with a nasal tube. “You were poisoned, honey.” Flashes of you flatlining not even two hours ago flooded his mind, but he shook them away. You were well and alive, breathing with a steady pulse. “You were really sick for a while, 

but Tony and Bruce here made a cure for you.”

You nodded, still a bit drowsy from the near death experience. “What about… him?” 

Though your voice was barely above a whisper, Bucky heard you clearly. “He’s already taken care of. If I had it my way, the bastard would spend the rest of his life on Raft for all I care.”

Tony chuckled, coming over to pat your hair and a quick kiss to your head. “Leave that to me, kiddo. This kid doesn’t know what’s coming to him. Get some rest, hon.”

Bruce, Tony and Sam all bidded you a goodbye, leaving the two of you alone. 

Bucky cradled your face in his hands, pressing a soft kiss against your lips. “I love you, sweet girl.”

“I love you, too, Bucky.” You sounded downright exhausted. But you could finally rest. “This is why I stay behind the computers.”

Bucky chuckled and laid against the pillows, pulling you to lay on his chest. “Valid.” Your laugh was a tired one, Bucky could tell. “C’mon baby, let’s nap together.” 

You had no obligations on that, closing your eyes as you held onto Bucky’s arm, lulling to sleep. 

Finally, Bucky could rest knowing that you were at ease and finally able to rest without being in pain. His eyes drifted shut and you both finally succumbed to a well deserved rest.

A chill swept up your spine as you stepped into the corridor, a fleece lined cloaked sat on your shoulders over your dress. You made your way down to the kitchens, peering your head inside, seeing Wanda sitting at one of the benches enjoying her breakfast. 

You slipped into the room, sneaking two muffin pastries from the cabinet and quickly made your way back to the hallway, walking in the direction of the training grounds, looking around for the captain, wanting to give him a little boost of energy for the day.

It was a snowy morning; the skies were painted grey, still recovering from the raging storm that had passed earlier this morning. You had remembered Bucky mentioning the clouds that began to pass through the mountain. Snow would be expected for the next couple of weeks. Though you didn’t mind, it was a beautiful sight to see. As you came up to the training yard, you looked around the nearly empty grounds that were covered in snow searching for the captain, but all you found was his lieutenant and squire. Sam’s eyes moved from the young boy and beckoned you forward with his hand. 

“Morning, my lady,” Sam greeted you with a warm smile.

“Good morning,” you reiterated softly, sending a warm smile to the young squire. You glanced around the yard. “Do you know where Bucky is?”

A knowing smile crossed over his face and he nodded. “Went out for a ride with Dahlia. He should be returning any minute.”

You nodded, tightening your hold on the pastry in your hand. Sam noticed the slight tension in your body, and he patted Peter’s shoulder and made his way over to you, standing inches away from you. 

“Y’know,” the knight started as you looked over at him. “he is just as infatuated as you are. Probably even more,” You smiled slightly, your shoulders relaxed. “I’ve known the captain for years and I can truthfully say that I have never seen him this happier since your and Her Grace’s arrival. I believe you make him a better person, lady.”

Your brows furrowed; that couldn't possibly be true. You had been told stories of Bucky’s bravery during the war, during his time as captain, defending the kingdom and its people from danger. 

How could your presence make him better than he already is?

You opened your mouth to retort, but Sam held up his hand. “Believe me when I say he has not been this happy and chipper in a long while. He may not seem like it with you, but with me he’s the grumpiest person I have ever met.”

You couldn’t stop the smile that took over your features, cheeks burning hot. Who would have thought that someone like you, a noblewoman who had hopped from region to region with no immediate family, had wounded the captain of the knight guard on his knees for you. 

“Do I make it that obvious?” you quietly asked, and Sam laughed, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched Peter shovel the snow away. 

“Kind of,” Sam chuckled. “But he makes it way more obvious.” He winked at you just as the gates opened slightly. The sounds of hooves galloping against the road came closer within earshot. “Besides, I think you two are perfect, I believe you even each other out. And you have really helped him.”

Sam’s words echoed in your mind and you sent him a smile, turning your head to see Bucky and Dahlia ride in just across the yard. Until blue eyes landed on yours, then did he guide the black mare in your direction. The lieutenant stepped back just as Bucky dismounted and made his way over to you with a smile. 

“Good morning,” Bucky whispered in a low voice, leaning in to grab your hand and place a soft kiss against your palm. 

You could have nearly melted at the sound of his voice. 

“Hi,” you breathed out, pushing the wrapped pastry in Bucky’s direction. “I remember you saying that you liked the blueberry muffins Wanda had made a few weeks ago.”

Bucky smiled as he took the two pastries from your grasp, leaning down to smell the sweetness of the muffin. ‘’Thank you, sweetheart,” You smiled and nodded and began to pull away, but he held onto your hand tighter, keeping you anchored to him. “Have you eaten today?”

“No, I have not,” you mumbled, slightly cursing yourself for not grabbing something for yourself. Perhaps you could snack on something with Natasha later whilst going over the guest list for the wedding. 

“Have breakfast with me.” Bucky requested, not giving you a chance to answer because he was pulling you by the hand towards the castle. You obliged silently with a smile, holding his hand tightly as he led you to the kitchen, where thankfully there was no one. The lingering smell of the porridge the cooks made hit your nose and your stomach grumbled in response. 

Bucky sat you down at the table and squeezed your shoulder before making his way to the stove, reaching for a bowl. You watched him with adoration as he ladled porridge into a bowl and topped it off with the fruits you enjoyed the most and brought it over to you. 

The flutter in your stomach as his fingers brushed against yours was hard to ignore, not with the way he effortlessly cared for you. It was a foreign concept to you, some things were going to take a little longer to get used to, but even after everything he had done for you, his actions still surprised you.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you said, reaching out to grasp his hand as he finally settled next to you. 

“You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart,” he insisted, but you shook your head.

“No, I need to. I really appreciate you, Bucky. Even when I pushed you away you still put effort into caring for me. It is something I am not used to, but I cherish your thoughtfulness so much.”

If he could, he would have pressed his lips against yours if you were just a couple inches closer. He so desperately wanted to, grasping your body closer to his.

Bucky squeezed your hand affectionately and nodded his head. “There isn’t anything I wouldn't do for you, milady.” He placed your porridge in front of you, along with a glass of juice. “Eat. You’ll need your strength for  later today.”

You smiled and took a bite of your breakfast, all while still holding onto his hand tightly.

---

The crackling of the fire filled the small space of the library as you spread out all the guest names, unaware of the surnames written elegantly on the thick cards. Natasha held Steve’s hand as they both walked hand in hand behind you, silently going over the names. Bucky and Sam stood yards away, standing with straight, rigid postures, though Bucky loosened whenever you glanced his way with a smile. 

“Is this everyone, lady?” Natasha asked, grasping Steve’s arm tightly, pulling him along. 

You hummed, taking a step back from the table where the cards sat. “The Kingdom of Wakanda sends their congratulations to you and their apologies for not making it. Otherwise, here are the two hundred guests who will be attending, though it is mainly your people.”

“I took the liberty of inviting some from all around the lands, though I am not expecting everyone to be in attendance. The harsh storm is projected the week of our glorious day, I doubt some will actually make the trip up here,” Steve said, looking over at Natasha with a smile. 

The look of love. A look that had crossed Bucky’s face whenever he gazed at you. 

“The less people the better, I would say,” Natasha whispered, though you could hear here even though you buried yourself. “Just you and I, my love.”

“Just you and I, dove.” Steve repeated, leaning in to place a soft kiss on the corner of her mouth. 

You felt eyes bore into your form and you moved your eyes from the cards over to the knight standing by the bookshelf, his attention solely on you, the softest smile and the adoration glinting in the ocean of his eyes as he looked at you.

This time, you did not shy away from his gaze. 

Instead, you smiled at him and looked back, a silent conversation played between the two of you. His eyes fell from your face down to the dark colored dress that you wore, smiling when he saw the rose pendant hanging from your neck, the memory of him first defending you flashed through his mind. 

His azure eyes found yours once again, this time lighter. 

You look beautiful. You could hear this gaze tell you, even with no words spoken.

Your hand instinctively found its way to the rose, grasping the charm tightly as you subtly bowed your head at him and looked away after minutes of gazing into the blues of his eyes. 

You turned your attention back down to the cards again, glancing over to your dearest friend to see her in Steve’s arms as they admired the snowfall together, relishing in each other’s presence, quietly conversing, though you could not directly hear them, a smile crossed your face as you heard Natasha’s quiet laughter. 

Though Bucky’s gaze remained locked onto yours, you continued to look at the attendees for the wedding, wondering who you would get the honor of meeting. You smiled to yourself, seeing the captain still locked on you in your peripheral vision. Turning your head, you looked towards him and playfully rolled your eyes at him, emitting a chuckle from the knight before you turned back to the cards, a smile evident in your features.

The smile was torn from you in an instant, vanished completely and it felt as if all the air from your lungs was stolen as your eyes locked onto the card with the names of the people who haunted your dreams. 

King Alexander Pierce. 

Your hands began to tremble, even after you formed them into fists.

Prince Brock Rumlow.

Tears burned in the backs of your eyes, threatening to peek out.

Prince Quentin Beck.

Breaths came in too quickly, you felt dizzy and numb.

You wanted to wither away and lock yourself in your room, but you remained still, a lump formed in your throat as you tried to bring yourself out of the memory that was threatening to reel you in, pulling you beneath the surface.

I am not their puppet anymore. I am not their puppet anymore. I am not their puppet anymore. I am not their puppet anymore-

A warm familiar hand touched the small of your back and a soft voice spoke out to you, quietly and hushed, “Y/n? Are you alright?”

The sound of your name falling from his lips pulled you from the dark waters that dared to drown you. You blinked your eyes and turned to him with a look of fear, adoration quickly vanished, and Bucky could see the panic beginning to bubble over. 

He quickly caught your hand in his, squeezing tenderly as he ran his thumb over your scars, cautiously glancing back to Steve and Natasha, seeing them both caught in their own little world. 

He tightened his hold on your hand, his other hand tightening around your waist. His head dipped down, his lips brushed against the shell of your ear, “You’re okay, you’re not there anymore. You’re safe with me, you’re safe. It’s just you and me sweetheart.”

Your heartbeat began to settle and you found yourself following his breathing, slowly inhaling and exhaling just as he did, until you found your breath again. 

Bucky pulled back, placing a hand on your shoulder, urging you to look at him. He was silent, and just as before, his eyes upheld a conversation.

Please don’t shut me out. Not now. Cerulean eyes begged you and you pushed out a smile, albeit small and forced. 

“Later, please.” you softly requested, only loud enough for the knight to hear. 

Bucky nodded and began to pull away from you, but not before placing a soft kiss against your temple. Your eyes slipped closed, relishing in the feel of his lips against your skin, his hand tightening around yours before both of his touches pulled away simultaneously. He walked back to his post, though kept an eye on you, as you’d expected.

You took a moment to compose yourself, sniffling quietly and patting the skin under your eyelids with your fingers until you looked ahead at Natasha, revealed to see her still in Steve’s arms, oblivious to the world around them.

“Shall I leave you be, Nat?” you called quietly, and the woman turned in her lover’s arms, eyes widened.

“Oh, my dearest,” Natasha squeezed Steve’s arm before untangling herself from him and making her way over to you. “I think I would like to spend the day alone with my fiancé.”

She was smiling brightly and it brought joy to you, knowing that she finally had found her love. You nodded and hooked your pinky around hers before pulling away, leaving her alone with her lover. Bucky’s gaze followed you as you made your way out of the library, though you stopped in front of him. 

“Later.” you reminded him.

Bucky nodded and leaned down, placing a kiss against your cheek. Once he pulled away, you silently made your way out of the library, exhaling shakily once the doors shut. The trembling resumed and you brought a hand to your mouth to muffle the sob that threatened to spill out. 

You couldn’t escape them, no matter how far you fled.

Anxiety bubbled in the pit of your stomach as you wrapped your hand around the frigid metal railing, looking over towards the snow covered mountains, praying to the gods above that they wouldn’t make it due to the weather. 

If not, you feared the things they would do once they found out where you were.

---

You had been staring at the same page for well over ten minutes. A huff of frustration passed through your lips and you stood up, tossing your book on the table as you strode to the window. The sun was beginning to set, casting beautiful shades of purple and pink across the sky. An anxious feeling had been gnawing at you for hours, and no matter what you tried, you could not get rid of it, continuing to nibble on your lip.

You heard the door to the small study that you currently found yourself in open suddenly, automatically knowing it was Bucky. 

“Is it later?” His voice was soft. Your throat tightened as you turned to face him, meeting his concerned gaze. He stepped forward, reaching for your hand. “Let’s go for a ride.”

Your brows furrowed as his hand tightened around yours, looking back to the window to see the lowering sun. “The sun is going down. How will you ride in the dark?”

Bucky said nothing and led you out of the study by the hand. You caught his eye but all he gave you was a smile. “Just trust me.”

Trust me.

Of course you trusted him, there wasn’t anyone else in the entire universe who had treated you with this much kindness, this much love. In perspective, Bucky shouldn’t have cared this much, as you were just a woman tending to her employer.

Yet there he was, a comforting shoulder to cry on, a companion to make light conversation as you ventured into town, someone to call a friend. 

Perhaps even more. 

“I do.” you said as he slipped on a heavy cloak over your shoulders, tightening several knots from your sternum down just below your bust. His eyes met yours, his gaze never leaving you, even as he brought the hood over your head. It was only when he led you to the stables did his eyes leave yours. 

The dark fur of Dahlia caught your eye and you couldn’t help the surge of excitement that passed through you. As Bucky went to gather supplies, you made your way towards the mare, holding your hand out, but she did not need to sniff your scent as she immediately brushed her head along your arm.

“Hello, sweet thing,” you whispered softly, scratching along the white patch of fur along her snout. A hand gently touched your shoulder and you looked to the side to see Bucky pack the last few of his supplies.

He wordlessly handed you a bundle of carrots to feed Dahlia and he prepped her saddle. It didn’t take long, once he was finished, he couldn’t help but to stop and watch how the smile you wore reached your eyes, even a little. He noticed you looking back at him and reached out for your hand.

“I thought we could try something a little different this time,” Bucky said, placing his hands on your waist. You could feel him rub his thumb over the fabric of your dress. “You’ll want a good viewing seat.”

Before you could process his words, Bucky lifted and placed you directly onto the saddle, waiting for you to adjust yourself before he hoisted himself behind you. He reached around you, grabbing the reins and looked down at you. 

“Ready?”

You nodded and he tugged on the reins, letting Dahlia take off through the open stable doors. You leaned back into Bucky, head falling onto his shoulder, feeling one of his arms snake across your waist to hold you steady.

Shades of pink and purple and orange nearly faded, revealing the dark night sky. You clutched onto Bucky’s arm tightly, seeing the dark forest come into view. But he just held you firmly to his chest and whispered, “look up to the sky.”

Your eyes glanced over to him briefly before turning to the dark sky. Just as Dahlia passed through the first line of trees before a green light casted over the sky, spreading out, feathering across the sky. A gasp passed through your lips, watching in awe as the light shifted through the sky, moving along with the air. 

“Not completely dark,” Bucky whispered in your ear as Dahlia galloped further in. Bucky didn’t want to go further than a few miles, knowing the dangers of the cold forest. 

“The Northern Lights, right?” Bucky nodded. “It is so… beautiful,” you breathed out. Bucky kept his gaze solely on you, even as he slowed down his horse. Watching the way you were smiling, the light in your eyes he hadn’t seen since this morning, whatever tore the spirit away from you. There were names he himself recognized, but he was cautious about the idea of assuming anything. 

“It is,” he murmured, keeping his gaze on you as he pulled on the reins. Green reflected off the snow, giving the forest more light than you had expected. 

Moments of comfortable silence passed by before Bucky eventually had to ask. 

“I think it is later now.” he whispered against your ear. He could feel you nod against his shoulder, eyes still glued to the sky, so he gave you a few moments to compose yourself. You leaned forward, slipping away from his warmth. His hands ran up and down your torso before he dismounted, keeping close to Dahlia.

“Whatever it is, I am here with you. I am not going to let anything happen to you, Y/n. I promise.” Bucky said, latching onto your hand. 

You could have melted right off of Dahlia and into his arms, but you held yourself steady. Your eyes slipped close for a moment and you gripped his hand tightly and took a deep breath.

Trust me.

Your eyes fluttered open, meeting azure eyes.  

“I saw their names on one of the cards,” you whispered, eyes gauging the sudden rigidness of his shoulders, though his facial features softened. “They will be here for the wedding.”

Bucky nodded, understanding who ‘they’ were. He could hear it in the shakiness of your voice, the fear that covered your eyes. He stroked the back of your hand as you explained the fears you felt. 

He couldn’t stop the rage that swam through his body, the fury he felt knowing there was no way you could avoid them at the wedding. You would be in a constant state of anxiety, of paranoia, of fear. He couldn’t let you become fearful of your own home. 

“What are their names?” Bucky asked, voice steadily calm despite the anger and fury he felt.

He had to keep his anger far away from you. 

You had been subjected to enough of it in your lifetime. After nearly half a year knowing you, Bucky could get a read on what made you anxious and what made you calm. 

You shook your head, hands beginning to tremble. 

“Y/n, I need to know who they are. You may not want to, but we need to tell Steve-”

Your hand ripped out of his hand in an instant. “No! No, Ste- His Majesty does not need to know. It does not concern him, therefore he does not need to know. Nor does Natasha. It does not concern them,” you cried out, eyes filling with tears. The sight nearly broke Bucky’s heart.

“Your safety is my number one concern.”

You gaped at him, and the one question you had been holding in finally spouted through. “Why do all of this for me, Bucky? I am merely a servant! I-I am not some princess or queen, just a noblewoman, the queen’s lady! The purpose of my position here is to serve my-”

“Not to me you’re not,” the knight retorted, taking a step back towards the mare and he reached for your waist and pulled you off the saddle and into the warmth of his arms. 

“Bucky!” you yelped, clutching onto his forearms.

But the knight did not listen to you, not as he picked you up and effortlessly carried you until the two of you were under the branches of the towering trees, your back pushed gently up against the base of the tree. 

His hold wasn’t caging or forceful. More careful and gentle. 

“You are so much more than just a lady to me,” Bucky said, exhaling heavily as his eyes bore into yours. “To me, you are everything. Ever since the first moment you stepped into the palace, all I wanted was you. You, woman, have captivated me. You have made me a better knight, a better captain, soldier… a better man.” His shoulders rose and fell, though you did not feel any fear. Not as his hand gently held your cheek. “You have no idea what you do to me, sweetheart. I care about you more than I should, but I don’t care. I protect what I care about. And I will fight a king if it means you are away from harm.”

His heavy breaths fell from parted lips and you couldn’t help as your eyes flickered from his eyes down to his lips. Bucky leaned his forehead against yours.

“You are all I care about. Nothing else matters when I am with you.” he whispered before pressing his lips against yours, melting against you as he felt your lips press into his.

You had been kissed before, but never like this. Never as passionate as this.

Everything Bucky did was gentle. The way he held you, hugged you, kissed you. You would have expected his lips to be chapped and dry from being out in the cold weather, but they were soft against yours and he kissed you, you could not help but smile against his mouth.

You kissed the knight that had shown you nothing but kindness and a delicacy that no man had ever bestowed on you. 

Once you pulled away, shoulders heaving, lips swollen and flushed skin, Bucky pressed his forehead against yours, holding you close. You kept your hands firmly on his chest, sighing softly.

“You have no idea how long I have been waiting to do that,” Bucky breathed out and you couldn't help the giggle that passed through your lips. 

“I am glad you did,” you whispered against his cheek. Bucky pressed his lips into the skin of your cheek, trailing down to your jaw. 

He peppered kisses along your jaw, teasing your neck slightly before placing a kiss against your lips. It was short and sweet, the way he held your face could have made you melt where you stood.

“I need names, Y/n.” Bucky whispered against your lips. He pulled away and pulled you into his chest, arms circling around your waist. You wrapped yourself in his warmth, resting your head against his heartbeat. 

You looked up at the lights in the sky again, sighing softly. “Can I tell you tomorrow?”

Bucky pulled you away and pressed his lips against your forehead. “You can tell me tomorrow, honey. But for now, let’s go home.”

Home. It was now in the Northern Lands, you decided. After tonight, there wasn’t anywhere else you would want to be. You wouldn’t trade being in Bucky’s arms on the way home for anything in the world. 

The half of a year being in the north was far better than the eight years spent in the East. 

There, nobody was like Bucky, who offered to help you off a horse, ease the heavy cloak from your shoulders, and walk you to your chambers. 

You hadn’t loved anyone like you loved Bucky. 

He led you to the comfort of your bed, helping you out of your shoes and turning away respectively as you changed into the soft fabric of your nightgown. You sat down on your bed, looking at Bucky as he kneeled in front of you. 

You leaned down and kissed him, pleading eyes boring into his. 

“Can you stay with me? Just until I fall asleep?” you asked shyly, swallowing nervously, but his warm hand held your cheek. 

“I’ll stay as long as you need me to.” 

It took a moment before you were both comfortably laying in bed, Bucky’s arms wrapped around you as your back pressed to his chest. He could feel the rigidness of your muscles, so he ran his hand over your stomach, holding you tighter to his chest.

Issues could be resolved tomorrow.