#royal!marvel

———

“Good morning, James. Off to a late start?”

Bucky’s gaze landed on the girl who had spoken. He recognized her. She was the woman  that sold pastries for her family. What was her name again? Dot? He smiled as he took long strides to her bakery. “I had some new equipment to pick up.” 

She glanced at the large bag attached to his hip. There were a lot of rumors that Steve and Bucky were a little…off compared to the rest of the villagers. At least ever since they came back from the war. Steve was still loyal to the old ways. He believed the good royals would return. Meanwhile, Bucky was always trying to learn new things. Whether it was books or science or anything, the man had an odd fascination with anything new and different. No one knew what to expect when they came back, but this wasn’t it. The two had changed from the goofy friends and became something else.

So when Hydra came around? The village was struggling, desperate for any sort of help. They didn’t realize that Hydra was just the wrong kind of royalty. It didn’t take long for Steve to have enough of Hydra and Prince Brock. He disappeared in search for a kingdom he could be loyal to.

And Bucky became a bit of a hermit. No one saw him around except for when he chose to run a few errands. Bucky didn’t seem to like people. 

Dot fidgeted with her fingers before tucking her hair behind her ear. “I hear Prince Brock is visiting today. Will you - will you be around?” 

Bucky frowned, knowing what she was really asking. Would he be protecting them? Steve and him had made a point of protecting the women and children when Hydra came to visit. Brock was a little too eager to get to know the women personally. While he did as he pleased, soldiers would often torment the children and make them work for them. It made the pair sick.

But Steve had been missing for a week and Bucky had to find him. He didn’t have time for Brock and his games. “I’m afraid I’m busy.” He offered an apologetic smile and Dot nodded. Bucky noticed the way she trembled, the fear that made her shoulders tense. “If they’re still around by tomorrow morning, I’ll see if there’s anything I can do. But without Steve,” he faltered. “I’m not exactly hero material anymore.”

Dot hugged herself, knowing she had to try to understand. All the soldiers came back differently. Their coping mechanisms weren’t something she was supposed to understand. “I appreciate your honesty.”

“Just try to stay indoors.” Bucky turned away, knowing if he didn’t leave now then he’d get himself in the middle of the chaos. Then where would he be? He wasn’t a soldier anymore. He shouldn’t have to fight anymore.

Approaching the home just outside the village, Bucky’s feet trudged through the dirt. Night was edging closer and he could already see the moon peeking through the clouds. However, as much as he loved the idea of seeing the stars, he still couldn’t shake the guilt he felt when Dot asked for his help. Running a hand through his messy hair, he shook the irritating emotion and pushed it to the back of his mind. He had other things to work on. Like why Steve had been gone for so long.

Kicking the door open, old floorboards creaked under his weight as he lit a fire in the small fireplace. He was desperate to feel some sort of warmth. Bucky made his way to the table and started pulling out its contents. A telescope, maps, pieces of old equipment that he could reuse — each had their purpose. He shrugged off his coat, throwing it over the back of the nearest chair. The house felt empty without Steve. 

He hated it. 

Walking to the nearby cabinet, he grabbed a bowl and her food. “Alpine, come get some food.” The small patter of her paws signaled the feline’s arrival. She hopped on the table as he set her food down and immediately her purring signaled her content. Alpine always made his life seem so easy. Smiling slightly, he ran a hand over her soft fur before focusing on his newest finds. Picking up one of the pieces of scrap metal, he flipped it in his hand and eyed it carefully.  That should work.

Though the house was small, Bucky and Steve had made sure to divide their space. The second floor was for Steve with his own bedroom, a room for painting, all of it. Meanwhile, Bucky got most of the first floor despite the shared space. A bedroom for him and Alpine and the backroom for his creations and all of his books. 

It was funny, before the war neither of them would have expected Bucky to really be such a nerd.  Sure, he loved science and breakthrough tech, but before the war, he had really only been keen on watching. Now, after being a prisoner? After a lack of control and having to constantly fight for every scrap of knowledge? Bucky refused to be left in the dark about anything. If he could understand it, he wanted to know it.

Lighting the lantern in the small room, Bucky picked up one of the books he forgot to finish reading the night before. He closed it and set it on top of a large stack of others. Eventually he’d get to them all. There simply weren’t enough hours in the day. Taking the piece of scrap, he reshaped the metal into a dome and cupped it under the lantern. He was sick of the wax pileup that came from the late nights. At least this way he could reuse the wax and turn it into more candles. They were getting expensive nowadays.

Running a hand through his hair, Bucky redid the bun at the base of his neck. He walked over to the window. The shutters were old and would need replacing soon, but that wasn’t it. Outside, he saw the faintest glimpse of what looked to be —

Steve’s horse.

“Steve,” he murmured. His stomach twisted and heart clenched. Where was Steve? Why was Fury alone? Bucky bolted out of the room and ripped open the back door. He heard it slam shut behind him as he took off across the field, relieved when the beast seemed to recognize him. 

Coming to a halt, he grabbed the burned reigns patted him on the neck. “Whoa, there, calm down.” The horse seemed to fight him only for a moment before coming to his senses. He nudged Bucky in the shoulder, trying to turn him around and pull him back where Fur had come from. “Hey, stop.” Bucky tugged on the reigns once more, knowing Fury had a short temper. He still wasn’t entirely sure how Steve could deal with such a beast. Running his hand down the horse’s neck, he took a step back and looped the reigns around his fist. “You know where Steve is?”

Fury tugged at the reigns and Bucky knew he’d have to trust this crazy, infuriating animal. Oh, if Steve could see him now. He’d never live it down. Glancing back at his home, he took a slow breath. Mounting the stallion, Bucky turned away from his home, from the village.“Come on, show me the way.”

Fury took off and Bucky hoped and prayed that the horse remembered the way he had come. If not, things would get a lot worse. Glancing back at the disappearing village, he noted the way the stars were making themselves clear in the night sky. That had to be a good sign. Right?

———

Surely it shouldn’t be taking this long to bring Steve back. Why did Steve have to be such a knight? Why did he have to insist on finding another pair of royals? Nothing good ever came from them. No, he had to find Steve and bring him back. Then they could find a way to fix things with Brock and Hydra. Bucky ducked under a branch as Fury led him off the path. It had been hours since he had run into Steve’s horse and he had to say, he wasn’t exactly a fan of this idea. Anything would have been better than blindly following a wild animal.

“How the hell do I get myself in these situations,” he grumbled, looking around. “Fury, where are you taking me?” 

The horse nickered, but made no other notion to show that it understood anything Bucky said. Clenching his jaw, Bucky cringed when he heard the crackle of thunder and saw lightning light up the night sky. Water came down in a heavy downpour, earning an irritated grunt from the rider. “I swear if you are leading me to the middle of no — where.” 

Bucky’s gaze shifted to the sky as they broke through the edge of the forest. He didn’t remember any of this. Glancing back, he searched the grounds in hopes of finding a path and yet there was nothing. So how — how was it possible that there was a castle here? And for no one to know about it?

Gothic architecture shone brightly with every flash of lightning. Tall towers, looming gargoyles, and intense statues made the place look foreboding. It was intense. “Did you take me to Hydra, you ridiculous horse?” Dismounting, Bucky’s boots landed in the mud. It splashed onto his pants, but he ignored it. This wasn’t a time to focus on appearances. “What is this, Fury?”

He flinched when thunder rumbled through the sky, running a hand through his sopping wet hair. This was not what he had in mind for today. Hand holding tight to the reins, Bucky pushed open the gates. Fury jerked back, forcing him to stumble and earning a sharp glare. “Excuse you, why would you bring me all this way only to stop at the entrance?” The horse stared him down and Bucky rolled his eyes. “Fine. Chicken.” Bucky dropped the reigns and turned back to the castle.

Bucky spun around, searching for the source of the voice. “Hello? Who’s there?” He focused on the possibility of someone hiding in the shadows, instinctively reaching for a sword that wasn’t there. It seemed some things never got old. “Show yourself.”

“Jeez, this is supposed to be Roger’s friend?” Bucky tensed and spun around once again. His hand tightened around the candelabra, earning a grunt of distaste. “Watch it! Your hands are cold!” He froze, bringing the object into view. There was a face staring back at him, but it couldn’t mean… “You can talk?”

“Wow, you got some brains in that thick skull of yours.”

Bucky dropped the candelabra, taking a couple steps back as it hopped up. “What the —“

“Please, be careful. He has enough dents.”

Bucky jerked, looking back to the table. He had been so focused on his surroundings that he had missed the clock that had been there. It was also talking? “I — What is this?”

“What, never seen a curse before?” The clock’s sarcasm earned a glare from Bucky.  Lumbering forward, the clock adjusted its face and looked down at the candelabra. “Are you all right, Sam?”

“Yeah, he barely left a scratch,” Sam told him, waving him off before buffing out the scratch on his heel.

“Sam?” Bucky raised an eyebrow before asking the clock, “And what’s your name?”

“Everyone calls me Rhodes or Rhodey.”

Sam and Rhodey — a talking candelabra and clock. That was normal. Totally. Bucky was starting to wonder if he hit his head in the woods. Rubbing his temples, Bucky walked past the pair and wondered if there really was a chance Steve was here. After all, clearly the castle wasn’t abandoned. Looking back at Sam, Bucky said, “You mentioned Steve.”

“Yeah, we’re the ones who sent the horse.”

“Of course you were,” he grumbled. “Where’s Steve?” Sam and Rhodey shared a look, the silent conversation between the two not exactly something that he appreciated. “What is it?”

Rhodey gestured for Sam to explain, smirking when the candelabra huffed in frustration. He turned back to Bucky. “He’s in the dungeons.”

“Show me.”

Bucky wasn’t sure what it was that made him tense about this place. Everything seemed to have an air about it that he couldn’t understand. It was weird. With each item they passed, he wondered if maybe another object would come to life and make its presence known. Every turn, every change in direction, he made sure to remember. If he got himself lost and locked away, there would be no way he could help Steve.

“Through there.”

Bucky looked to the floor, to the objects that had led him here. “And I’m supposed to just trust you two?”

“You refused to carry us up all those stairs. We hopped the whole way up and you think it was some sort of prank?” Sam stared at Bucky as if he had grown a second head. “I don’t like cardio that much, friend of Rogers.”

“Bucky. My name is Bucky.” He clenched his jaw and opened the door, peeking inside. There was a chill in the air, worse than the rest of the castle. Stepping inside, he noticed how light streamed in through the cell windows. A high tower to keep your prisoners and yet the owner of the castle showed them the world they would forever be away from. Typical royals. “Steve?”

“Buck?” 

He shifted his gaze to the cell farthest across the room. Crossing the room in quick strides, he wrapped a hand around one of the cell bars and grit his teeth. “Steve, how long have you been here?”

Offering a weak smile, Steve leaned against the bars. “About as long as I’ve been gone.” Bucky noted the scruff of his beard, the oiliness of Steve’s hair, the dark circles under his eyes. The clothes he wore were untucked and torn, though he had no injuries. His friend was exhausted and definitely needed to get out of here. “It’s okay, you found me.” He paused. “Buck, how did you find me?”

“The talking candlestick sent your pain in the ass horse,” Bucky explained, shaking his head. “How can I get you out?”

Steve scratched the back of his neck. “Honestly? I barely remember who put me in here.”

“You idiot,” he muttered, rolling his eyes.

“Punk.”

“Did you really have to go looking for royals?” Bucky pulled the knife out of his boot, crouching in front of the lock. He had to pick it and get Steve out of here. He’d spent enough time in this ridiculous place. “You know they’re useless.”

“Uh, Buck —“

“No, seriously. I told you there was no point. That, if we were going to stop Hydra, we needed to do so with the people in our village. With soldiers we had fought with. Royals are only invested in themselves, what benefits them.”

“Bucky —“

Bucky raised an eyebrow, glancing up from where he’d been focused on the lock. “I’m not done lecturing you, punk.”

“Oh, good. I’d love to hear what else you have to say.”

Bucky closed his eyes, clenching his jaw. He’d been so focused on giving Steve an earful that he failed to hear someone else had come inside. Looking over his shoulder, he could barely make out the enormous figure lingering in the shadows. What was that thing? “Are you the one who locked him up?”

“Maybe.”

A woman?

Bucky rose to his feet and moved to take a step forward, stopping only when Steve grabbed his wrist. “He came looking for help and you threw him in a cell?”

“I don’t like trespassers.”

Bucky scowled. “You spoiled, little —“

“Let’s not threaten the owner of the castle, Buck.”

She shifted, walking along the edge of the wall and remaining in the shadows. He could feel her gaze locked on him. She was studying him. “What can I do for you?”

“Let him go.”

“That does nothing for me,” she reminded him. There was a glint of something in the dark. Fangs? Who was this thing? “Like you said, royals are only invested in themselves.”

“…I…” Bucky looked back at Steve. He knew what it was like to be a prisoner. Steve didn’t. Steve didn’t have those scars. Looking back at the shadowed figure, he offered, “Take me instead.”

“Buck!“

“You can’t be serious.” She was surprised. He could hear it in her voice.

“I am. Let Steve leave and take me instead. I know what it’s like to be a prisoner. Steve doesn’t. And he’s the only family I have left.” Bucky stepped forward, pulling free from Steve’s grip. “So trade us.”

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” Her critical eyes were filled with curiosity, something he wasn’t expecting. Most people in these situations would be calculating, cold, and yet there was a warmth in her eyes. It was guarded, but he could still see it. What was with this woman? “Who you’re speaking to?”

“Not entirely sure what I’m doing, but,” Bucky eyed her carefully. “Step into the light. I’d like to know who or what I’m making a deal with.” Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Sam bury his face in the wax of his candles. Apparently that wasn’t the right thing to say? Wait, was he seriously questioning his judgement based on a candelabra’s opinions? Bucky shook his head and looked back at the woman. “Well?”

She giggled, amused with his antics. “Very well.” A foot stepped forward, catching his attention. She was large, her foot bare and resembled something similar to a bear. He shifted his gaze up and as she moved closer, Bucky realized just how tall she was. She easily towered over him and her body, though covered in a loose shirt and trousers, was covered in fur from head to toe. Her face reminded him of something from legend. It wasn’t like a bear — closer to a lion and yet not quite there. Her tail flicked out from under her cloak and made him tense. Grinning, her fangs appeared once again and his eyes flickered from fangs to claws and back again. 

Bucky refused to let Steve stay with this…monster.

“Do we have a deal?”

Without hesitation, “Yes.”

She moved faster than he anticipated, unlocking the cell door and grabbing Steve by the arm. Bucky reached for him, hoping to say goodbye to the man that had been like a brother to him. “Steve —“

As he was being hauled towards the door, Steve called, “Don’t do anything stupid till I get back!”

“How can I?” The door slammed shut, leaving Bucky with Sam and Rhodey. His shoulders slumped as he stared at the spot where his friends once stood. His voice was soft, almost frail as he murmured, “You’re taking all the stupid with you.”

When the pair reached the carriage outside, Steve pulled himself free. He turned on his foot and asked, “Was that necessary? Could you not let us say goodbye?”

“I don’t have all the time in the world, Rogers.”

He frowned as she opened the carriage door. She took his arm and shoved him inside before slamming the door shut. “How did you know my name?” Steve watched her intently, trying to see past the monstrous features.

Clenching the window of the carriage, she grit her teeth before snapping, “I heard it from the clock.”

“But he —“ 

“Take Rogers back to the village,” she told the carriage, slapping the side. It seemed to bring itself to life, rocking from side to side as Steve tried to open the door. Alas, he was unable.

“Wait!”

“Go, now.” She turned away as the carriage took off. Her stomach clenched at the slip up she had made. Her brother had told her so many stories regarding the great captain. She couldn’t let him wander the halls and she hated having to keep him in the dungeon. He had been a great hero and yet he had no recollection of her kingdom, of her brother, of any of it.

Glancing up to the tower where her newest resident was waiting, she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to go back. Just like she’d heard stories of Steve, she’d heard stories of Bucky. He didn’t have much reason to be happy with her — what with rushing Steve out, leaving her people to fend for themselves, being one of the very royals he loathed. But between her two options, she knew she had to have hope for the latter. Steve was focused on loyalty and protecting the people. Any emotions he felt would be guarded and perhaps manipulated to help achieve his goals for the greater good. Bucky’s reasons for being here were clouded. While he didn’t have faith in someone of royal blood, if she had any hope of breaking the curse, his feelings would be more honest and raw.  No one in the whole castle thought she had any hope. And in truth, she hadn’t. Not until she heard Bucky speak so freely to his best friend. That was what she wanted. Honesty. Without it, there was no hope to beat the curse.

Bucky didn’t pay attention to the sound of the beast’s return. He knew what he was signing up for when he agreed to be a prisoner, he did, but Bucky still hated it. Crossing his arms, he leaned against the stone wall and grit his teeth when cold rushed through him. Memories of Hydra and constantly being surrounded by an endless winter came rushing in an almost overwhelming moment of mere seconds. 

“Bucky, yes? That’s what your friend called you?”

He looked up, blue eyes flashing bright even in the low light. “Call me James.”

She nodded, refusing to meet him eye to eye. Whether she felt guilty or disgusted by him, Bucky couldn’t tell. He couldn’t bring himself to care either. Instead, he turned his gaze to the window and the carriage disappearing into the trees. “You’re cold.”

Bucky scoffed. “No shit.”

“So come with me.”

Bucky jerked his head, gaze boring through her. She held the door to his cell open, gesturing for him to step out. “What?”

“Come with me.” 

“Why?”

“You’re freezing and you’re my guest.”

“I thought I was a prisoner.”

She rolled her eyes and gestured to the cell. “Do you really want to stay in here? I’m offering to be nice. Just let me.”

Bucky watched her carefully, studying her. Why would a royal be kind to him? Why would she call him a guest? Instead of commenting on what she had to say, he let her lead him out of the dungeons. She didn’t say anything for a while, instead holding Sam in her grip while Bucky carried Rhodey. Everything felt awkward and tense, but not in a resentful sort of way.

Bucky didn’t understand.

And neither did she.

“Are you going to talk to him?” Sam’s hushed whisper earned a glare from her.

“Haven’t I been?”

“Princess,” Sam murmured, pointing a candle in Bucky’s direction. “He’s rough around the edges, but you agreed to his deal for a reason.”

She bit her tongue to keep from arguing. Sam was right. Even admitting that would leave a bitter taste in her mouth. Glancing at Bucky, she offered a small smile. It didn’t look quite natural on her, but he didn’t comment. “You’ll have your own room with a fireplace. I know the winters can be cruel.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“No, but I want to. What you did for your friend was kind and shouldn’t be punished. It should be rewarded. While I can’t do much, I can at least provide you some warmth.” 

Bucky watched her, unsure of what he was expecting, but knowing it wasn’t that. “…Thank you.”

“Of course. The castle is lonely, I know, but you can go anywhere. This place can be your home.” She hesitated before telling him, “Just…don’t go to the East wing.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m giving you a whole castle,” she snapped, her voice borderline a growl. “All I demand is that you do not go to the East wing.” Bucky rolled his eyes, deciding it wasn’t worth arguing. At least not now. If what she said was true, he had plenty of places to explore and the castle was big enough to stay away from her. “Here we are.” Stopping in front of a large door, she turned the handle and gestured inside. Already warmth radiated from the fire he could see just inside. If all the servants were things, then how? “Get some rest.”

Bucky glanced at her as he strode past. He wanted to ask questions about her appearance and the castle’s history. How was he supposed to understand if he didn’t get to learn? Looking back to the room, he noticed the ornate decorations and extremely large bed. His whole home could fit inside these four walls and it was all for him? “Thank you,” he muttered, not exactly wanting to show appreciation. But he had to. This was better than his other option.

“Don’t mention it. You’ve had a long day. Sleep.”

“Was that an order?” Bucky quirked an eyebrow as he turned his attention back to her. “Or a request?”

“A recommendation.” She smirked and moved to close the door, pausing for a brief moment. “Goodnight.”

“What’s your name? If I’m living here, shouldn’t I know it?”

“I was kind of expecting you to just call me the beast.”

Bucky shook his head. “I’d rather not.”

Her fist flexed, as if she wasn’t used to someone asking her name. It made him wonder just how long she’d been cursed. How normal was it for her to be referred to as “the beast”? “Y/N.”

“What?”

“It’s my name — Y/N.”

Bucky nodded, appreciating that she actually gave him some sort of information. “Thank you, Y/N.”

Another pause with silence that neither of them felt really comfortable in. She cleared her throat, telling him, “Join me for dinner.”

He watched her, brow furrowing. “Request or order?” 

“I don’t know yet.”

“Then no.”

She glared at him. “Excuse me?”

“No. I have no reason to be ordered to dinner. So no, I’m not going.” He met her gaze. “I’m not a soldier anymore, Y/N. I don’t follow orders.”

Y/N clenched her jaw and gave a curt nod. “Very well.” She closed the door, her hand clenching around the knob until she felt it shift under her strength. Immediately Y/N released it and looked down at the twisted gold. Oops.

“Princess?”

Y/N looked at Rhodey who watched her carefully. “I’m working on it,” she muttered through gritted teeth. He raised an eyebrow, watching her intently. “I am!”

“Whatever you say.” She glared at him. “Did you invite him to dinner?”

“Yes.”

“Y/N.”

“I tried to.”

“The walls are thin, your highness,” Rhodey explained, earning a snarling growl. “I’m just saying.”

“I miss the days when you just bothered Tony.” Y/N turned away from him and walked away, her cloak billowing behind her with every long stride. She was intent on heading back to the East wing and clearly wanted to do so alone.

Rhodey let out a small huff before fixating on the twisted doorknob. “So do I, Princess. So do I.”

——

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Claws running through her fur, she quickly looked away from her reflection. Why was she trying this? Huffing, she already knew why. She just didn’t like it. The question was, how did they even get Bucky to agree to it? The idea of the man stumbling around a ballroom didn’t exactly sound like a good idea. The man spooked easy and this was so far out of both of their comfort zones, she wasn’t sure why Tony came up with it.

“Y/N!” Sam grinned as he stepped inside. He noted the garments in the far corner and knew not to press his luck about getting her to wear a dress. She had been more comfortable in pants as a human. What made moments like this any different? Shifting his gaze to her, he offered a friendly smile. “You look so…” He struggled to find the right word. After all, outright calling her beautiful was a blatant lie. She was changed to look ugly. It was part of the damage. Still, he could try to find the right word. “So…”

She glanced back at her reflection, the fur underneath her eyes now damp from tears shed. Someone had to be honest, right? Her voice soft, she said what he couldn’t bring himself to admit. “Stupid.” 

Sam frowned as he moved directly in front of her. “Y/N, this is a step in the right direction. Tony wouldn’t have suggested this if he didn’t think it would work. Now, we might not be in all of our human glory, but you better believe that you do not look stupid.”

Blinking away a new onslaught of tears, Y/N refused to allow herself to fall to a bunch of sniffles. Instead, she brushed the waterworks away and offered Sam a smile. “Thank you, Sam.”

“Of course. Now, let’s get you dressed, hm?”

Meanwhile, Bucky couldn’t understand who came up with this idea. He was curious, but no one would spill the name. It wasn’t something Y/N would come up with. Surely not. Bucky might not know her as well as he would like or as well as others in the castle did, but he knew well enough that this wasn’t her style. She enjoyed the gardens, reading, spending days warmed by the sun and content with a story in hand. The woman he had grown used to spending time with didn’t seem all that enthusiastic about spending her days as a typical princess.

So who planned this idea? And what was the importance of it?

He fidgeted with the cuff, the overwhelmingly rich and soft fabric foreign to his skin. Bucky had gotten used to itchy fabrics and worn clothes. It was part of his lifestyle as a peasant. This was something else entirely. Even the rich blue fabric was something different to the whites, browns, and blacks that he’d grown accustomed to. Shifting from one foot to the other, he finally released the fabric and chose instead to run his fingers through his hair. He knew it wouldn’t stay in place and part of him wondered if he should do something about it. Would he look better with it pulled back? Was it necessary for this? Would Y/N mind if his hair was constantly falling in his eyes?

And then the curiosity — why did he care if she minded?

“Need some help?” 

The sound of the familiar voice forced Bucky to look to the door. Peter was standing there with a feather duster behind him. “MJ, right?” he asked, quickly dropping his hands. The last thing he wanted was for someone to see him so fidgety. 

“That’s me.” She watched him carefully as Peter offered a sheepish smile.

“Rhodey sent us to check on you,” he admitted. “Are you ready?”

Bucky nodded, not knowing what else to say. Strands of hair fell in his eyes as he glanced at his reflection in the mirror. He looked…okay. Right?

 However, Maryjane seemed to have something on her mind. She gestured to the bed. “I’m sorry. You need to sit. I’m all for being supportive, but you aren’t going anywhere until we do something about that hair.”

The sound of music could be heard even outside the ballroom. It was welcoming and warm, wrapping the servants in memories calling back to a moment when celebrations were all too common within the castle’s walls. Now, it was a different sort of dance. A different sort of celebration. 

A small crowd of curious eyes attempted to peek through the doors, blocked by Rhodey. “Enough,” Rhodey hissed. “They need privacy.”

“We just want to see,” Peter told him, pouting.

Rhodey raised an eyebrow at him, crossing his arms. “No. Let Wanda and Sam do what they do best, Pete. They know what they’re doing.”

Inside, Bucky’s feet left a soft thud with every step he took. It wasn’t until he finally had the courage to look up, that he saw Y/N standing on the opposite set of stairs. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling, proud of the sight. She wasn’t wearing some ridiculous dress that would make her trip over her larger paws and claws. Instead she wore clothing similar to his except in gold. It was a stark contrast to the darker colors she often wore and compared to her darkened fur, it looked complimentary on her. Though not the typical definition of what one would assume the word ‘beautiful’, Bucky had to say that she looked…breathtaking.

His gaze met hers and he shared with her the smallest, most nervous of smiles. They came to a stop in front of each other, as if taking a moment to realize what exactly they had been corralled into. 

“You’re wearing a suit,” she murmured, head tilted with the faintest hint of curiosity.

Bucky smirked, turning and offering his arm. “And you’re not hiding behind a cloak.”

“Bucky, you don’t have to —“

“Do us a favor, Y/N?” She paused, waiting for whatever it was he could possibly have to say. “Take my arm.”

Y/N hesitated only for a moment before doing as he asked. She was gentle, making sure her claws didn’t catch on the fabric of his arm. “I wouldn’t have expected you to be someone who knew their way around this sort of situation, Bucky.” 

“I might not recall the name of the king I served, but I do have the memories of moments like these. Even a knight was supposed to know their way around a ballroom, Y/N. Or should I be calling you ‘princess’?”

She grimaced, earning a laugh from him. “Please, don’t. ‘Y/N’ is most fine with me.”

They made their way down the stairs together, Bucky surprising the both of them with the initiation he was currently taking. Neither of them expected him to have such a confidence.

As they came to the center of the room, the music slowly came to a stop. Bucky spared himself a moment before he looked up, noting how the ceiling was painted with cherubs and a cloud-filled sky. The baby blue that peeked behind infant faces and clouds was a stark contrast to the radiant gold that made up most of the room. It was ornate and extravagant. Nothing like Y/N and yet… Bucky had to admit, he could imagine a young Y/N — minus the fur — causing all sorts of mischief in a ball that were to take place in this room. 

“It’s gilded,” she whispered, earning a surprised look from him.

“So your family isn’t made of the finest golds and jewels?” His tone was teasing and enough to earn a smile.

“Oh, sure, we are.” A moment passed and he wondered if maybe she was speaking the truth. Maybe all there was to her was wealth? Maybe the parts he had come to appreciate were all a lie? Her voice broke through his thoughts, soft as she explained, “But we’re just as gilded as these walls. False fronts made to protect the turmoil within.”

Bucky watched her, several questions running through his mind at an almost violent rate. “Is that how you explain the fronts?”

“No.” Her voice dropped, the lingering sadness laced in that one word enough of a punch in the gut. “That’s how I explain who I am.”

Sam and Wanda watched from the far side of the room, a broad smile on Wanda’s face and a nervous fidgeting going about Sam. “They’re just talking, Wanda.” Where he was normally a confident man, it seemed Bucky was currently borrowing that courage so as to make it through the night.

It was fine. That was most certainly fine. Sam was sure that he could manage.

“Oh, I can’t look. One of them is going to slip, I know it.”Sam turned away, shielding his eyes as Wanda scoffed.

“You’re a child, I swear.”

“No, I am watching them destroy any romantic mood we created. If we let them at this too much longer, they’ll be a blubbering mess.”

“Then let me fix that.” Wanda made her way over to the orchestra, catching one of their ears and whispering the name of a song that Sam couldn’t quite place. Instead of trying to figure it out, he turned his attention back to the couple. This had to work…This had to take a step in the right direction.

Music filled their ears, low and comforting. It caught Bucky’s and Y/N’s attention and Y/N was quick to take a step back. Bucky caught her wrist, his hold on her gentle. “Don’t get skittish on me,” he teased, taking the smallest step closer. He guided her arms to their proper places, his own then landing on the small of her back. “Do you remember how to dance?”

She laughed, sending a playful glare his way. “Do you?”

He couldn’t stop himself from grinning. Bucky couldn’t place it. There was something about her. When he got past all the growling, the temper, and the determination to push him away at every turn, she was as easy to be around as Steve was. He enjoyed her company — genuinely and completely. “Careful, Y/N, you might find yourself enjoying my company more than you expected.”

Bucky led her around the dance floor, his movements easy to follow. He was slow and controlled, deliberate with his steps in a way that wasn’t clunky. Y/N never would have expected him to sweep her around a ballroom and yet he was doing it as if he had been dancing all his life. She watched, following in stride and biting her tongue to refrain from any sarcastic comment that could ruin the moment.

Y/N liked this. She liked him and being with him. She liked that he didn’t tread carefully when they talk. Instead of letting her push him away, he weaseled his way into her thoughts and emotions. He made it impossible to ignore him because all she wanted now was to be with him. Even in utterly ridiculous moments like this where both were stepping out of their comfort zones and trying to make the other feel at ease. Yes, definitely, even in moments like this.

“What song did you pick?” Sam asked, unable to take his eyes off the laughing, smiling, and dancing pair before them. It was like seeing an entirely different part of them. “I know it. I mean, it sounds familiar, but I can’t remember the name.”

“Tale as old as time.”

“All right, I know I don’t have the best memory, but —“

Wanda nudged him gently, chuckling. “No, the song’s name is, ‘Tale as Old as Time’.”

“Oh.” If Sam could blush, he most certainly would be. Shaking his head, he looked back at the pair as they made their way onto the balcony. “Where are they going?” 

He moved to take a step forward, blocked by Wanda. “Let them have more than a moment, Sam. Let them have a memory.”

Sam fixated his gaze on the balcony, knowing they were too far away to be heard. Y/N and Bucky were on their own. They simply had to hope for the best. And it was absolutely terrifying.

The music slowly drifted to the back of their minds as Bucky and Y/N took a seat on the balcony.  They were silent, simply enjoying the sight of spring peeking through the branches. Though there was still a chill in the air, it was clear by the buds of flowers that winter was finally coming to an end. Warmth would soon greet their every morning, their every day.

Until then, they could at least find that needed comfort in one another. 

“I didn’t step on your feet,” Y/N told him, earning a cheeky grin from Bucky.

“I told you I knew my way around a ballroom.” Glancing back at the shimmery floor, he added, “It’s been a while, but I guess some things are never forgotten.”

“Yes,” she agreed, voice barely above a murmur. “Some things aren’t.” 

“I never would’ve thought I’d consider this place anything remotely close to a home. I expected to be a prisoner, frozen in your dungeon, or…or…”

“Dead?”

Bucky ducked his head ever so slightly, nodding. He didn’t want to admit it, but that had been a fear for quite some time. “You surprised me, Y/N. I never — I didn’t give you a chance at first and I should have. I shouldn’t have judged you based strictly on a history I had with other royals.”

Y/N paused at the mention of other royals. She knew the ones Bucky was talking about. They were her family. Her father and mother. Maybe even her brother was one of them. Someday soon, she would have to tell him. She had to be honest.

Someday. Now was not that moment.

Instead, she asked a question that had been haunting her for a while. “Are you — Do you like…being here? With me, I mean?”

Bucky looked surprised, watching the way she avoided looking at him. Y/N wasn’t one to show fear, but in this moment she certainly was. She looked utterly terrified, desperate to be assured. Was Y/N scared of whatever his answer may be? 

“Yes, I do.” She jerked, eyes meeting his in a look he could only describe as pure shock. Never had her emotions been so open and raw before him. However, he wouldn’t take advantage. No, he respected her too much for that. If she would be raw with her emotions and fears, then he could be honest with his thoughts as well. “I’ve enjoyed every moment here. It’s closer to a home than anything I’ve ever had before. But…” Bucky glanced at the forest, strands of hair falling from the bun and framing his face. Y/N watched him intently, wishing in that moment that she had the fingers to run through his hair, to tuck it back into place.

“But what? Is there something I can do?”

“No, it’s nothing you did or can do. I — I’m worried about Steve.” Finally, Bucky met her gaze. “He’s my oldest friend and the closest thing I have to family. We’ve been side by side for years; been through everything together. ‘Till the end of the line’ was a promise we made when we were kids. I expected the war to be that line and when it wasn’t, we stayed as close as possible when we came back. I told you how he was always sick as a child and every day I’m —“

“You’re terrified he’ll get sick again?”

Bucky shook his head, knowing very well that Steve was healthy. But Hydra was there which meant Steve wasn’t necessarily safe. “There’s a kingdom there that has been torturing the people of my home. They’ve been cruel and vindictive and…” He took a shaky breath, trying to calm his racing heart. “I’m terrified that he’s gone and fought a bully he couldn’t beat.”

Y/N watched him carefully, noticing the unshed tears in his eyes. Steve was Bucky’s world. And Bucky was a part of hers. She would do anything to help him. Taking his hand in her paw, she gave a gentle squeeze. “Come with me.”

———

“What is this?” Bucky held up the small mirror. It wasn’t as extravagant as some of the items he’d seen in the castle. It wasn’t even as extravagant as most of his room. He felt the etchings of something against his palm, but other than that, there was nothing from the silver mirror. 

“A not-gilded mirror.” Y/N watched him carefully, the glow of the Rose illuminating his face in a warm yellow. It seemed to flicker, reminding her of something akin to a candle. “All you have to do is look at it and ask it to show you what it is you want.” He eyed her skeptically and Y/N rolled her eyes. “You’ve spoken to talking objects, spent your days with a beast, and are now questioning magic? Trust me, Buck. I’m trying to help you.”

Bucky’s fingers tucked around the edges of the mirror as he stared at his reflection. “I’d like to see Steve…if that’s okay.”

The mirror’s reflection rippled, washing away his image and replacing it with something else. Something much darker. Bucky tensed at the sight, tears welling in the corners of his eyes. Steve was pinned against a wall. Blood and mud caked his face, barely hiding the busted lip and bruised eyes. His nose was bent awkwardly, making a shudder run down Bucky’s spine. 

However, as the image moved further back, showed him more, guilt settled in his gut and heart. Two Hydra soldiers had him pinned, unable to move. A third was the one that had beaten his face and, judging by the way he struggled to breathe, there were more injuries hidden behind his tattered shirt. What made it worse was there were more and one in particular was watching with the sickest smile on his face.

Brock Rumlow. 

Stomach twisted, heart racing, Bucky knew all too well that this was his fault. He traded places with Steve. He had been enjoying himself, living a life where he felt whole, and his friend was suffering.

“Hydra,” Y/N whispered, catching his attention.

“You know them?” Bucky looked up at her, searching her eyes and earning a pained expression that he couldn’t quite read. He’d never seen such a look from her before. It was the second time she left him with a new emotion. His heart twisted, but this time it wasn’t from guilt. It was pain. Heartbreak? “Y/N?”

Words were lost in her mind. She couldn’t piece anything together. They seemed to be lodged in her throat, twisting her windpipe and leaving her breathless. What could she say? That her family was the one that first fought Hydra? That their disappearance was why Hydra was tormenting his home? Why they were currently hurting, possibly killing, his best friend?

No, taking his attention off of Steve was selfish. She’d been selfish long enough. Just be keeping him here, she’d been selfish long enough.

“Everyone knows about Hydra.” Squeezing his free hand, she let it go and took a step back. “Go to him,” she whispered, surprising him.

“But I thought —“

“Go. He needs you. And you clearly need him. Use the mirror and it will show you the way.”

Bucky glanced from the mirror to Y/N and back again. He wanted to go to Steve, but he couldn’t simply walk away from Y/N. She was important to him, a part of his life that he couldn’t forget. Taking a slow breath, he nodded. He didn’t have to walk away from Y/N forever. Just long enough to help Steve.

He rose, moving to hand her the mirror, but she held up a hand. “Don’t. I want you to keep it. Something to remember me by.”

Bucky watched her, the frown on his face breaking her heart. Y/N couldn’t stand the sight of it, looking away as Bucky wrapped his arms around her. She tensed in his grasp, relaxing after a brief moment and wrapping her arms around him. “Thank you, Y/N.” She swore she felt his lips press a kiss to her cheek, but she wasn’t sure. And she refused to assume.

“Go, please.” She was lucky her voice didn’t break. “Steve needs you.”

Bucky pulled away from her, knowing he couldn’t meet her gaze. If he did, he might not be able to bring himself to leave. He wanted to say something, to promise he’d bring back, but for some reason…the words wouldn’t come. So he left swiftly, almost silently, and Y/N was left to her tears.

Standing, Y/N walked to the balcony overlooking the forest. Tears ran through her fur and she shuddered. She didn’t feel the warmth from outside anymore. No, it seemed the bitter chill was stronger than ever. It was only made stronger when she saw Bucky borrowing one of the horses and riding off into the night.

“What happened?”

Sam’s voice earned no flinch, no turn or look. She remained fixated on Bucky’s retreating form as Sam came closer. She knew she needed to explain. What she had done was to better the life of two men, leaving her servants and friends, leaving herself and her brother, completely in the dark. Taking a shaky breath, she whispered, “I let him leave.”

“I heard.” He waited for a moment, wondering if he should ask.“Why?”

Y/N hesitated, scared to admit those emotions. They were real. She couldn’t ignore them any longer. Bucky had slipped past the walls that guarded her heart, making himself at home. And she let him leave. Looking over her shoulder, teary eyes and tear stained cheeks showed Sam just how broken she was. “I had to, Sam. I —”

“Oh, Y/N…”

“I love him.”

----

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Wandering the long halls, he started to think about the beast that ruled this castle. Y/N. The name was different. It sounded different in his head and on his tongue and yet there was a sense of familiarity to it. He just didn’t understand why. But after blatantly saying no to lunch and dinner three days in a row, she seemed less interested in reaching out to him. That meant he lost track of the hours. He didn’t know when food was served or anything. They practically ignored his existence.

So now he was wandering with a growling stomach tugging at his attention. He needed to eat something. He needed to find the kitchen and then he needed to eat something.

“What were you expecting to happen? You know how she is and trying to play last minute matchmaker never worked out for you. Even when you were human!”

The sound of a new voice made Bucky slow his strides. It was female. Not Rhodey or Sam. How had he been here a week already and yet hadn’t met anyone else? Leaning against the wall, he was curious what else he could learn.

“I was just trying to help. We’re running out of options.”

“What if there aren’t any more options, Sam? Can’t you be satisfied with that?”

“No! Of course I can’t! It’s not only about her. There’s a castle full of servants and people that don’t deserve to live their lives as…objects.”

“They don’t or you don’t?”

“Shut up, Wanda.”

“Hey, um…” A new voice — a boy’s. Perhaps a teenager? “The big guy is listening to you from the door.”

“Bucky?”

At the sound of Sam calling him, Bucky rounded the corner and stood in the doorway. What he hadn’t expected to see speaking to the candelabra was a large, porcelain teapot. He assumed this was Wanda. Next to her was a smaller teacup with a chip at the very top. Bucky couldn’t help, but be curious what his name was.

“What are you doing here, Bucky? We haven’t seen you leave your room since…” Sam faltered, shrugging. “Well, since Y/N showed it to you.”

“I —“ His stomach interrupted him, the low rumble of its discontent and hunger being heard by everyone.

The teacup snickered. “He’s hungry!”

Oh, how Sam wished Y/N was here. He’d give anything for that stubborn woman to see the sheepish look on Bucky’s face. He’d give anything for his princess to have a conversation with this man that didn’t end in them trying to one up one another. But unfortunately, she wasn’t here and the odds of that conversation happening weren’t looking great. 

“Well, if he’s hungry, let’s get him something to eat.”

“I don’t need much. Just some water and a sandwich or something,” Bucky rushed out, his words running into one another. He scratched the back of his neck, strands of hair falling free from the bun and shielding his face.

“That’s not happening,” Wanda told him. “Peter, get some food put together for our guest.”

“I’m not a guest.”

The look Wanda gave him was enough for Bucky to wish he had only thought the words instead of voicing them. She had that motherly look. It reminded him of Steve’s mom and all the lectures she gave him and Steve during their youth. “You certainly aren’t a prisoner, so you aren’t going to eat like one.” Wanda’s voice tore him from his thoughts. “If you were, we’d send Vis to make you food.”

Sam snickered, shaking his head. “Believe me. You don’t want that. No one deserves that kind of punishment.”

Bucky found himself smiling at their kindness. When was the last time someone other than Steve was nice to him simply for the sake of being nice? “Thank you,” he murmured before hearing the clatter of a plate.

“Let’s not get Y/N’s attention,” Rhodey snapped as he entered the room. “You know how she barely sleeps as is.” Realizing Bucky was in the room, Rhodey instantly regretting his words. He probably should have been more careful.

“We’re getting something for Bucky to eat,” Wanda explained. He noticed how she was beaming a little brighter than she had been the past few days, but decided not to comment. Perhaps Bucky could bring some light to their home.

“Here ya go.” The sound of Peter’s voice made Bucky turn. He had been so focused on the new voices, the new people to talk to, that he hadn’t realized how large the kitchen actually was. There were two large tables in the center of the room, spanning the length and leaving room to spare. Lining every wall were shelves. Some had herbs, others had plates and cups. There were jars filled with unidentifiable things and even a few spices here and there. Tucked away on the opposite side of the room he noted that there was a large stove and a thick door. No doubt, on the other side of the door was the cold room filled with things like meat.

Shifting his gaze, Bucky looked back to the table where Peter had set up a plate filled with leftovers. It was radiating heat, filled with corn and carrots, a couple pieces of bread, what looked to be boar meat, and something else he hadn’t seen before. “How’d you put this together so fast?” he asked, looking at Peter curiously.

“We’ve been waiting to see how long it’d take you to visit.” Bucky glanced at Sam, confused. Why did they care? And that still didn’t explain the food.

Rhodey seemed to notice his confusion and elaborated, “Peter’s a little overeager. Boy’s been making a plate of food for you every night just incase you came by.”

Bucky chuckled and looked at Peter. “Thanks, kid.”

“Thanks for calling me a kid. Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’ve actually missed it.”

Bucky frowned at that, taking a bite of his food before he asked, “How long have you been like this?” He looked at all of them, his eyes scanning the room. “And how many of you are…”

“Cursed?” Wanda asked, amusement lacing her voice. A moment of silent passed. It seemed they were all debating whether that was information worth divulging. “Too long.” 

Her answer made him feel sick. He wanted to know the story. Bucky wanted to ask all the questions and understand what made this happen. Each of these people had stories and lives, something they wanted for the future. They had something or even several things that made them tick. How did they get cursed? What made it happen?

Who made it happen?

“Do you want some more?”

Bucky jumped, startled from his thoughts once again. It seemed almost too easy for him to get lost nowadays. He looked to Peter then to his empty plate. Had he really finished it so quickly? 

“Aw, look! Big man’s ears are all pink. He’s blushing,” Sam teased.

Bucky shot him a glare, ready to say something, but he stopped himself when Peter made his way to get the man more food. “You don’t have to —“

“Nonsense. Do you know how long it’s been since we got the opportunity to help someone? Someone who willingly participated in a conversation with us?” Wanda hopped over to him and nudged his hand gently. “This is our way of thanking you.”

“But I haven’t done anything.”

“You’ve come out of your room. You’re talking to us.”

“And,” Sam added. “Judging by the look on your face, you’re actually interested in how all of this happened.”

“Don’t go getting any ideas,” Rhodey snapped, crossing his arms. “That is not our story to tell.”

“Isn’t it?” Bucky raised an eyebrow. Clearly curiosity was getting the best of him.

“No,” Sam begrudgingly agreed. “It isn’t.”

“Then how am I supposed to comprehend any of this?” Bucky felt something nudge his hand and looked down, surprised to see another plate of food. How was Peter able to move so fast? 

“Have you thought about talking to Y/N and asking her?”

“Rhodey, come on now, Bucky doesn’t have the confidence to go talk to her,” Sam teased. He barely jumped up fast enough to avoid the swing of Bucky’s hand. “Rude!”

He huffed, ducking his head behind his hair as he grumbled, “I don’t have any interest in talking to some royal brat.”

“Someone has a problem with authority figures.”

“Rogers said you’re a soldier,” Rhodey said, brow of gold furrowing in confusion. “So —“

“I was. Past tense.”

Silence fell in the room as Bucky went back to eating his food. Clearly he wasn’t so open to discussion regarding his history. He wasn’t Steve and judging by the way they glanced at each other, Bucky managed to put the pieces of the puzzle together. Steve liked being distracted from the now. He enjoyed talking about the old days because he still felt drawn to them. He had no ties to the village or a calm life. Not unless Bucky was a part of it. 

Clearing his throat, Sam asked Bucky, “Would you like a proper tour? It might help with adjusting to the whole thing.”

“I want to help!”

Sam and Bucky glanced at Peter and, in all honesty, Bucky was actually amused by the little teacup…boy. He reminded him of his little sister, Rebecca. Clenching his jaw, he picked at his food. Rebecca had been a scar he hadn’t thought about in a long time. He went out of his way to avoid her. 

Closing his eyes, he took three slow breaths. In and out. In and out. In and… “Where do we start?”

Peter was more than eager to fill the silence of the tour, telling Bucky about everywhere and everything they came across. If there was a painting hung on the wall, Peter somehow remembered who painted it, why it was here, and what it meant to whichever sibling had purchased it. So far, the only thing that interested Bucky was learning that Y/N had a sibling. 

His mind drifted to the walls. There was so much unnecessary art. He noticed the long lines of armor lined on either side and wondered whether they were alive or merely decoration. Were they cursed or a means for the royal family to show off? 

Finally tuning back in to his tour guides, he listened to Sam. “Up the stairs is the East Wing and —“

“East Wing?” Bucky slowed his steps and looked to the grand staircase. It was tall and broke off in two different directions — east and west. That little itch appeared in the back of his brain, wondering what it possibly was that Y/N was hiding up there. What secrets could she possibly be keeping?

“Don’t even think about it, Buck. She gave you one rule, remember?” Sam looked up at him. “Just follow it. Please.”

Peter noticed the way Bucky wanted to argue. However, he was the kid in the situation. He shouldn’t have an opinion. He really shouldn’t even say anything. Still… “Um…there’s a lot more to the castle you have to see, Bucky.” He earned his attention. Thank god. 

“Like what?”

“Well, there’s the gardens! And we have the dining room and ball room and there’s the armory and —“ Peter swore he saw Bucky’s eyes glaze over with every addition to the list. He looked impossibly bored. Lamely, he finished, “There’s the library.”

His ears perked, eyes shining that bright, curious blue. “That’d be something to see.”

Sam breathed a sigh of relief as Peter perked up. The kid obviously felt accomplished. “Then to the library,” Sam announced. He followed the overly eager Peter, the two of them leaving soft thuds echoing through the hall with every hop they took.

But Bucky was much quieter than the pair.

He ducked to the side, silently moving up the stairs. Glancing to the hall, he smirked as their voices became a low echo. They didn’t even notice he decided his own destination was a little more interesting. 

Bucky wasn’t sure what he expected, but dark and gloomy wasn’t in the top three or even the top ten. He wandered the halls, the eery quiet enough to send a chill down his spine. Goosebumps covered his skin as he passed by the broken windows. Multiple panes were shattered with glass shards left on the floor. He was careful to step around, not wanting to alert any one of his presence due to a simple misstep. 

Lifting a tattered curtain out of his way, he ducked out of the moonlight and back into the shadows. Why was the place so destroyed? And why did Y/N want to keep him out of it? Surely this place didn’t serve any importance to anyone in the castle. Another step and he found himself in a new room. Broken pieces of furniture littered the floor and a slashed painting took up most of the wall to his left. Raising an eyebrow, he tried to see the details. It looked deliberately destroyed and the moonlight was barely bright enough to give him a good look at it.

Where was Peter and his memory now?

Huffing softly, Bucky lifted one of the larger tears and noticed how, when it met the one above, the image formed a portrait. Y/E/C stared at him, peering through his very soul. The color looked familiar and warm, but he couldn’t place where he’d seen those eyes before. Shifting his gaze, he was met with the kindest, most open and honest smile he’d ever seen. He’d never seen such a look from anyone and yet it was captured in a portrait of all things.

Who was this woman?

Bucky’s curiosity was pulled from the portrait when he noticed a warm glow coming from out of the corner of his eye. He looked away, his brow furrowing when there was nothing there. Odd until he saw its reflection had come from a broken mirror. Turning his head, he noticed the balcony where most of the moonlight was coming in. Nearby was the only piece of furniture that wasn’t broken. A small wooden table. In the center of it was a glass dome and inside — a floating black and red rose. He walked closer, feeling almost entranced by the glow coming from the flower. Circling the table, he noticed how there was a bit more black than there was red. Why? 

Lifting the dome, he set it to the side and crouched in front of the magical flower. His mind was racing with questions. Was this connected to the curse? Why were the petals black? Was this the significance of the East wing? One little rose? He reached out, his fingers lightly touching the black stem. It was so dark. Such a light, hopeful glow was coming from such a dark little thing. Bucky didn’t understand it. 

He wanted to.

“What are you doing in here?”

He jumped, pulling his hand away from the rose and spinning around. Y/N stood before him, blocking his exit. Her looming figure was covered in her cloak, the rest of her shrouded in shadows. Claws clung to the doorframe, splintering the wood when she saw the dome was removed. “I—“

“Get out.” Her gaze shifted to him and Bucky felt his stomach clench. Her eyes were filled with hatred, anger, and fear. Fear? He swallowed when he noticed the color of her eyes, the back of his mind drifting back to that portrait. Y/E/C stared at him with such animosity. “Are you deaf?” She stepped forward, glass cracking underneath her feet. “I said leave.”

Y/N ripped her claws out of the wall, knocking the mirror in his direction. Bucky quickly jumped out of the way, knocking into the table with a grunt. She lunged towards the table, towards him, and Bucky stumbled back. Catching the table before the dome fell, a low growl rumbled through her chest. A snarl curled her lips as she used the utmost care in covering the flower. “Leave, Bucky,” she muttered. “Now.”

Pushing the small bit of fear aside, he stepped forward and asked, “What is that?”

Y/N spun on him, snapping at him with her fangs. She rose to her full height, towering over him and covering him in her overwhelming shadow. “I said,” she snarled. “Get out!” Claws gleamed in the moonlight, making him flinch.

Bucky froze. His mind flashed to Hydra, to men breaking him down and beating any sense of humanity out of him. He remembered the cells and being prisoner. He remembered constantly living in fear. Spinning on his feet, he quickly ran out of the room. Glass crunched underneath him, but he paid it no mind. All he could think about was his racing heart, his quickened breath, and the sinking pit in his stomach. He had to get out of here. 

Y/N watched him leave, eyes wide when she realized her mistake. A large hand covered her face as she closed her eyes tightly. She screwed up. Royally.

Racing down the stairs, he stumbled around Sam and Peter. “Bucky!” Sam’s voice was distinct, but fell on deaf ears. “Bucky, wait!”

Running ahead, Bucky’s feet echoed in the halls as he approached the massive doors. He pushed it open, grunting from the unexpected fight against the outside wind and snow. Glancing back, he saw the fear and panic that crossed Peter’s and Sam’s faces.

“Mr. Bucky?” Peter’s voice made him falter.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not staying here.” He shifted his gaze to the stairs. “I can’t stay here with that thing.”

Bucky opened the door more, a flurry of snow coming inside as he slipped out. The door closed with a loud thud, leaving the two in the empty hall. Peter blinked away unshed tears. “S-Sam? What do we do?”

Sam grimaced, shaking his head. “There’s nothing we can do, kid.”

-----

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“Go away, Sam.”

“Oh, no. You do not get to demand that I leave.” He glanced around. Sam didn’t think it was possible, but Y/N had found a way to destroy the room even more. Her claws were digging into the table, her gaze fixated on the rose. “You can’t will it either way. You know that, right?”

Her claws dug into the wood and he rolled his eyes. “Y/N, what happened?”

She growled. “He left.”

“I saw that. I’m asking why.”

Y/N tensed, closing her eyes and inhaling slowly. She forced her shoulders to drop and looked his way. “I told him to leave,” she corrected herself. “He didn’t leave until I practically threw him out of the room, snarling and growling like the fucking monster that I am.”

“Nice pity party you got going. I would’ve brought cake if I knew to expect it.”

She snarled, but Sam didn’t react. He didn’t jump or push. “Y/N, I have known you since we were children. I have been by your side through every thing your family pushed onto you. Every ball and attempt at forcing you into marriage, every war where you almost lost your brother, the night you lost your parents — I never left your side. I understood why you had your walls up and as your best friend I helped you sneak around with Loki.”

“Don’t say his name.”

“Someone has to, Y/N. Loki is why we’re here. Loki is why we’ve been like this for nine years. It was too late for him to get back at Howard, so he took his anger out on you and on all of us. Now it’s up to you to not let him win. It’s up to you to be the hero your family refused to let you be.” 

Y/N looked away, anger sinking in the pit of her stomach. She remembered that night so vividly and yet, she didn’t want to think about it. Her mind was on her people. Her mind was fixated on the man who came into her castle, who gave them and her hope. It was on Bucky. 

She looked out the window, finally tearing her gaze away from Sam and that damn rose. The snow had picked up, the windows were attempting to ice. And he was out there. “I have to fix this.”

Sam watched her run past him, her feet thudding against the floor as her figure became a blur and then disappeared out the door. He smirked, lighting the three candles decorating his figure. Glancing back at the rose, he muttered, “Best watch yourself, little flower. Looks like my girl is finally getting back to herself.”

The castle was lost behind the treeline, but Bucky kept going. His feet were slowed by the several inches of snow that had already fallen. His body trembled with fingers too pale, nose too red, and lips too close to blue. Everything was aching and he couldn’t remember which way was right and which was left. He couldn’t find the right path, if there even was one. Icicles hung from branches, threatening impalement with each rattle that was brought on by the wind. He shivered, hands clenching and nails digging into his palms. 

Why did he have to forget his jacket?

Ice and snow clung to his hair as he came to a pause. Bucky leaned heavily against the nearest tree, blinking slowly. Snow clung to his lashes and left small kisses on his cheeks. He hated it. Why couldn’t he remember how to get back to the village? Why couldn’t he remember how to get anywhere? 

The wind brushed through the thin fabric of his shirt, sending goosebumps across his flesh. His ears picked up at the howling noise that came with  it. A shiver went down his spine as he looked around. Snarls, nips, and growls greeted him. They were close. The snow came up to his shins, his hair was practically frozen, and his whole body trembled. He was going to die. They were close and he was going to die.

But he had to try — Bucky had to try and get back to Steve.

“Steve,” he murmured, his breath coming out in a thick fog. He looked up, yellow eyes greeting him through the shadows of the trees. 

He was most definitely going to die, but hell, he’d go down trying at the very least.

Bucky took off running. Snow kicked up in flurries around him, his vision blurring from tree to tree as he kept going. Something nipped at his heels, but he didn’t dare look back. Instead, he reached for a fallen branch and threw it behind him. The sound of a whimper signaled Bucky had hit his target. He kept going. His chest was burning, his lungs hurt, and everything in him begged him to stop.

Grabbing a tree, he swung around to change direction. One of the wolves knew better, anticipated him. It skid to a stop, snarling and jumping on Bucky’s back. He fell forward, hands disappearing in the snow. Bringing an elbow up, he hit the side of the wolf and knocked it into the snow. He tried forcing himself up, slipping where snow had become ice. He fell again.

Clenching his jaw, he flipped onto his back and panted heavily. He had to get up, but he…couldn’t. He couldn’t bring himself to get back up.

Another wolf appearing, low growl sending a shudder up Bucky’s spine. He moved fast, grasping at the snow. He felt something underneath, hands curling around before he brought it up as the wolf leapt for him. Teeth snapped around wood and Bucky squirmed underneath it. Claws dug into his chest as the animal clenched its jaw tighter, trying to snap the branch.

He closed his eyes, the sound of the cracking branch letting him know exactly what was about to happen to his neck.

But it didn’t. 

Everything stopped. The branch and beast were thrown off of him, forcing Bucky to open his eyes. He looked up, seeing the back of an all too familiar figure. Y/N had found him. “What are you —“

Her growls interrupted his question. A wolf lunged and she moved swiftly, as if it were a dance. Its jaw clenched around her arm and she threw the animal into a tree. It whimpered, wobbling as it struggled to stand before collapsing on the ground. 

“Your arm,” he murmured, eyes glancing at the drops of blood in the snow. Bucky scrambled backwards, his back colliding with a near tree. She spun around, hand grabbing the third wolf by the throat before throwing it into a fourth. All that was left was the second and fifth. 

“Are you all right?” She looked at him over her shoulder, concern shining in her eyes. He stared at her, jaw slack and eyes wide. “James —“ Her voice got lost in a wolf’s howl as it pounced. Claws lodged in her back, jaw snapped around her shoulder and Y/N was staggering forward. 

Panic slipped its way into Bucky’s heart as she grabbed the beast, ripping it off her back and throwing it away. Her knees buckled as she took another step, but Bucky quickly found the strength to rise to his feet. He grabbed at a branch above him, using his weight to tear it off. Flipping it around, he lunged forward and shoved the broken wood into the chest of the last wolf. 

There was silence.

Neither looked at each other. Instead, their gazes were fixated on the massacre of blood and animal carcass around them. Bucky swallowed, the adrenaline coursing through him finally cracking through the frigid cold he’d felt for so long. “You…You came for me,” he murmured.

She looked at him then, nodding ever so slightly. Taking a step forward, she took off the cloak she’d been wearing and wrapped it around his shoulders. Her legs buckled again and Bucky’s gaze fixated on the blood oozing out of her shoulder.

“You’re bleeding.” His voice was soft, cracking around the words. Instinctively, he brought the cloak tighter around him. Immediately he took a step towards her as her eyes rolled to the back of her head. He caught her, arm looping under hers and hand finding its way to her back. “Y/N,” he whispered, lowing her into the snow.

She was limp in his arms, breathing shallow and eyes closed. He took a step back, looking around them and wondering if maybe he could leave. Maybe he could find his way back to the village. His mind told him to go, to find a way back to Steve.

But his body remained in place. His heart remained frozen in place.

Why couldn’t he just go?

Sam and Rhodey wanted to help and did everything in their power to do so. They even brought Wanda in to help. She poured more hot water into the bowl as Rhodey dropped in new rags. Y/N was situated in Bucky’s bed. The fireplace was roaring, creating an orange glow to fight the moonlight coming in from the windows. 

“Thank you,” Bucky muttered, picking up the rag before placing it on Y/N’s shoulder. She hissed, finally waking up. She was finally greeting him with those y/e/c eyes. He didn’t realize how pretty he thought they were. How human. 

“What are you doing?”

“Cleaning you up,” he told her, looking away as he grabbed some medication that Rhodey had brought. “Glad to see you aren’t dead.”

“Careful, I might start thinking you enjoy my company.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I’m never saying anything nice to you ever again,” he promised, earning a chuckle from her. Hesitating, his hands hovered over the worst injury. She fidgeted underneath him, as if anticipating what he’d do next. “This might sting,” he warned before applying the medicated rag to her shoulder.

“Ow!” She growled, nipping at the air next to him.

“Watch it!” Bucky glared at her. “What the fuck is with your temper?”

“It hurts,” she growled, leaning against the headboard. She looked away from him.

“You’re expecting it to hurt more than it actually is,” he told her, raising an eyebrow. “Can’t you just relax?”

“Really?” She glared at him, eyes steely and cold. “If you hadn’t run away, I wouldn’t even be injured.”

Bucky gaped at her. “You’re pinning this on me? When I’m trying to help you?” She shrugged and his look of shock turned into a glowering scowl. “You told me to leave. And if you hadn’t insisted between all your snarling and growling, I wouldn’t have thought that my best option was to leave.”

Y/N scoffed, clenching her jaw. Everything in her wanted to scream at him, to blame him and throw the temper tantrum of a life time. He wasn’t even supposed to be in her wing. He wasn’t supposed to see anything that was hers. Hers, not her families. It was her only privacy.

And he had violated it. 

“You…intruded. You came in and disrupted the one bit of privacy I have.” She shifted uncomfortably, eyes meeting his. “It isn’t an excuse. Just an explanation as to why I —“ Y/N hesitated. “I’m sorry, you know.” She offered a weak smile, “For the snarling and growling.”

Bucky couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his own lips. He gently applied the medication, noticing how she fought every instinct to move away. Though he wouldn’t tell her, he appreciated her trusting him with this. “I’m sorry too,” he murmured, eyes shifting from her injury to her eyes and back again. “For leaving. I gave you my word that I would stay and yet I ran like a coward.”

“It’s probably ‘cause of the snarling.”

He laughed at that, shaking his head as piercing blue eyes studied her intently. Y/N wasn’t so bad after all. “Do me a favor,” he said, applying the medication to another spot. “Call me Bucky.”

Y/N looked at him, surprised. “Thank you…Bucky.”

—-

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Sam smiled sheepishly as he explained, “Bucky made it.”

Her look of confusion left Rhodey even more amused. He added, “Guy must’ve noticed how we were struggling with getting down the stairs. We woke up to him showing Peter how to use it.”

“He didn’t have to do that,” she murmured, the sentence lost on her friends. “Just be careful. There isn’t any reason to use it as a toy or risk breaking it.”

Y/N walked around them and made her way to the study, missing the shared look of confusion that passed between the three. Rhodey eyed her cautiously, asking them, “Did she just accuse us of breaking things? After what she did to her room?”

“Let it go, Rhodey,” Wanda warned, giving him a knowing look.

Sam offered one of his signature cheeky grins, nudging Rhodey. “She’s exactly like her  brother. What did you expect?”

“SON OF A —” Panic raced through the three as Bucky’s shout rang through their ears. They all took off, quickly passed by Y/N as she hurried to the origin of the sound.

Bucky in the gardens.

“What happened?” she asked, her heart beating wildly in her chest. Wide eyes searched through the snow covered bushes, trees, and flowers until the sound of laughter cut through the pounding in her ears. She hurried, taking long strides down the cobblestone paths until Peter and Bucky came into view. Peter was on a table near him while Bucky was sitting in the snow. He was covered in the cold powder. Arms, shoulders, and head were decked out in white, thighs vanishing underneath the new layer of snow. Y/N immediately slowed her steps at the sight, raising an eyebrow because she had never seen Bucky in so much white. He looked almost pure. But then she noticed that cheeky grin and those brilliant eyes of his and that word “almost” rang in her head again.

“Do I want to know what happened?” 

The boys couldn’t whip around fast enough at the sound of Y/N’s voice. Peter’s sheepish smile and shuffling made Y/N shake her head. Meanwhile, Bucky was quick to rise to his feet, brushing off the snow and shaking it off his head. 

“I might’ve had something to do with it,” another voice said as a wheelbarrow came around the corner. 

“Scott,” she breathed, voice wavering.

“Y/N.” He grinned, his wonky wheel lifting him up to create the slightest crook of his body. “I haven’t seen you around here in years.”

Bucky’s gaze focused intently on Y/N. She was on a first name basis with the castle’s gardener? Wasn’t she a royal? Why would she spend her time here and with a commoner? Pulling himself from his thoughts, he asked, “You came here a lot?”

“Before the incident,” Scott explained. “Y/N was my right hand here.”

“Is that right?” Bucky looked from Scott to Y/N, boyish smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Don’t overthink it.” The tone in her voice signaled the end of the conversation. Bucky wanted to press, to ask more questions and figure out what made her tick, but the way she looked away from him showed that it wasn’t his place. Or at the very least, now wasn’t the time.

“At first I thought I was here to find a way to help him water the winter’s flowers. I turned away for a couple minutes and he hit the tree. Dropped a ton of snow on me,” Bucky explained, knowing it was time to change the subject. “Something about an initiation process?”

Y/N nodded, understanding exactly what had happened. “Scott likes pranking everyone when they come here.”

Silence fell. No one knew what exactly to say and suddenly there was this level of awkwardness that had Y/N feeling like she was maybe intruding instead of living in the moment. Clearing her throat, she took a couple steps back, completely oblivious to the three friends peeking out from behind the nearby bush. However, Scott did see them. He noticed the way they gestured for Scott and Peter to beat it, to let Y/N and Bucky have a much needed moment. It had been a couple of days since the two had any solid interaction since the wolf incident. They needed this. 

“Hey, Pete,” Scott muttered, nudging the table the little teacup sat on. He didn’t have to say anything else. Instead, Peter silently jumped inside the wheelbarrow. “I have some new flowers to show the kid. He’s been cooped up inside way too long and I have to hear more about this feather duster. MJ, was her name, right?”

“Scott —“ Before Y/N could say anything else, before she could formulate an argument, the two wheeled away. They stood in silence with Y/N staring intently at the ground and Bucky watching her curiously. She sighed, shoulders slumping. In an odd way, she looked almost small. It was as if she was trying to curl into herself.

“So this was your sanctuary, huh?”

Y/N’s gaze shifted back to Bucky. When did he step closer to her? She tugged at the cloak around her shoulders, trying to shield more of her fur covered body. “You could say that.” Still focused intently on where Scott and Peter disappeared, she said, “I wanted to thank you. For that design you made on the stairs. Everyone really appreciates it.” 

“Of course. I was glad to help.”

She finally looked at him, noticing the way he focused so intently on her shoulder. “What?”

“How are your injuries?” Reaching for her cloak, his fingers brushed her fur. The instinctive growl she made earned an amused smirk. “Didn’t we talk about that?” 

Huffing softly, Y/N forced herself to look away from him. She didn’t want to focus on his touch or the way he was looking at her. They’d made steps in the right direction, but the idea of him being so close when she looked like this? It made her ill. It made her feel like she might throw up.

Bucky watched her carefully, his fingers gently brushing over her fur and knocking the cloak back. He stepped closer, frowning when he saw that she had taken the bandage off and was leaving her injuries unprotected. “Why aren’t these covered?”

“The bandages were itchy.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “You’re like a child, I swear. Are you sure Peter’s the youngest out of all of you?” 

Y/N glared at him. Well, she attempted to. It shifted into the smallest relaxation, the smallest hint of happiness, when she noticed how much Bucky had changed. They interacted and spoke now. They teased one another. It was different from any relationship she’d had with anyone except Sam. And even then, it had a different feel to it. “I’m pretty sure you haven’t had to bandage up an animal, Bucky.”

“But you aren’t an animal,” he reminded her. Glancing at her face, he shook his head in amusement. Her eyes were so big, her jaw slack. Apparently, she hadn’t expected him to say that. “You’re a human, Y/N. Now, will you let me clean that before you let it get infected?”

Bucky hadn’t expected her to accept his help. He’d expected an argument, irritation, maybe a bit of snarling. But sitting in the dining room while he tended to her shoulder? Getting her to laugh at a story of his childhood with Steve?

No, that was not what he had expected.

Still, he wasn’t complaining. Glancing up at her, he liked seeing the way her eyes lit up. The way she relaxed and smiled, she looked almost human. There didn’t seem to be an animal-bone in her body. 

“So let me get this straight. He purposefully went out of his way to get his ass kicked, was the scrawniest little thing, and would practically encourage men to beat him up?”

Bucky chuckled, strands of hair falling in his face. “Steve hated bullies.”

“Past tense?”

He hesitated, shrugging. Describing Steve was like describing home and family. It came so easily to him. “Pretty sure he still does. Not much has changed about him as we’ve gotten older.”

“Is that why he was such a good soldier?”

“Probably,” he muttered, the mention of war making his shoulders tense. “Steve was always looking for a fight, always wanting to stick up for the little guy.”

“Is that why he joined?”

Bucky paused, his hands hovering over her skin. Steve had always looked at Hydra as the biggest bully. How could he describe Steve’s soul, his entire reason for living, and sum it up in a couple sentences? “Steve had been sick up until we were considered men. It wasn’t until his body caught up with his mentality that Steve felt like he could actually do something. And at the time? Hydra was this monster that…They were awful, a plague on our home. And Steve signed up as soon as he could. And I —“ Bucky faltered, leaning back when he came at a loss for words. His eyes shifted to his lap. “He might’ve gotten better, but Steve was still my responsibility. I promised his mom.”

“And that’s why you joined.”

Bucky looked up, surprised. She said it so matter of factly. If anyone back at the village realized that Bucky left for Steve and not for some noble cause, they would have been disgusted with him. Bucky would have been deemed a traitor to the people instead of a hero. “That doesn’t make you upset?”

“Should it?” She leaned forward, arm still propped on the table. “Everyone has reasons for their actions, Bucky. Everyone. And more often than not, they aren’t as noble as people want to believe. The world is a cruel and selfish place, but that doesn’t mean your actions were. Running away so that you could live? Leaving your men behind and saving your own hide? That would have been selfish. That might have made me upset. But choosing to fight to protect your friend? That just makes you a good friend.”

Bucky watched her for a moment, anxiety getting the better of him. He bit his lip and ducked his head, a wave of warmth flooding through him. All his time fighting Hydra, his years as a prisoner of war, coming back to that ridiculously normal village — he had grown so numb. Bucky had gone out of his way to ignore his emotions because he didn’t feel they were validated.

Until this moment.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his words almost missed by Y/N as she watched him curiously. 

A part of her wanted to know if he remembered. She wanted to see how much of Loki’s spell affected the memories of her people. Did Bucky remember who she was? Did he remember who he fought for? Did he remember that the kingdom that fought tooth and nail to protect the people from Hydra was none other than Stark? Did he remember that he and Steve used to fight for royal siblings named Anthony and Y/N Stark? Or did he think that they simply vanished into thin air? What was the full influence of Loki’s —

“Y/N?” She blinked, realizing that she had definitely gotten lost in her own whirlwind of confusing thoughts. “Sorry, that was probably more information than you wanted, right?”

“No, I don’t mind. I appreciate you sharing with me.” Y/N smiled. “Actually,” Y/N rose to her feet and offered him a paw. “Come with me. I want to show you something.” 

Eyeing her suspiciously, Bucky couldn’t help his curiosity. He’d explored a lot of the castle already. What more could there be for him to see? Gaze shifting from her to her hand and back again, Bucky sighed and took her hand. Whatever it was, it couldn’t hurt, right?

Bucky craned his head up, looking at the tall mahogany doors that traveled from floor to ceiling. What was with this castle and giant doors? “Y/N, why are we here?”

“It’s a surprise. Will you just close your eyes?” She noticed the bewildered look he gave her. The scrunch of his nose, the furrow of his brow — it was kind of adorable. He looked like a little kid with a puzzle. “I haven’t growled, snarled, nipped, or threatened to use my claws in at least two hours. I think that means I’ve earned a bit of trust.”

“Two hours means I’m supposed to trust you?”

She groaned, rolling her eyes. “I promise that this is a good surprise. Please?”

Bucky hesitated for a moment, shaking his head before finally closing his eyes. Y/N was doing her best to hide her excitement. Sam had mentioned Bucky’s love for books and learning new things and had mentioned that he had yet to see this room. Of all of them, she would have expected this to be the first at the top of the list. 

But at least she got to see his face when he saw it for the first time.

Opening the doors, Y/N stepped ahead of him. The sound of her retreating form made him pause.“Y/N?” he asked, looking where he hoped she was standing. There wasn’t a response at first, but he started seeing flashes of light cross over his closed eyes. “Where’d you go?” The sound of curtains opening kept him spinning around, trying to find where she was. It wasn’t until he sensed her standing directly in front of him that he finally relaxed. Y/N smiled down at him, taking in his features now that he wasn’t looking at her. He seemed calm and relaxed, actually at ease.  Her hand curved in the crook of his elbow, pulling him closer to the center of the room. Bucky didn’t flinch away and the sight made her relax. He really wasn’t scared of her. “Y/N, what are you trying to show me?”

“Just wait,” she murmured, the sound of her voice so low causing his heart to beat a little faster. He tried to ignore the feeling, unsure of what the actual cause was. Perhaps it was because he wasn’t used to the tone? Taking a couple steps back, Y/N forced herself to stop fidgeting. “You can open your eyes now.”

Bucky immediately did, wincing from the onslaught of bright light. He hadn’t expected it. No other room in the whole castle was this bright. Scrunching his brow, eyes squinting, he gave his vision the opportunity to adjust before finally taking a look at everything around him. It was…

Beautiful.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, eyes landing on the two floors. His gaze traveled over bookcase after bookcase, shelf after shelf, cover after beautiful cover. The smell of books overwhelmed his nostrils, reminding him of home. The light came in from the windows, so bright and warm. Spinning around, his eyes flickered over pieces of art, sculptures, the globe on the far left side of the room. He noted the maps next to it and how there was a ladder instead of a staircase that one could take to the second floor. He noticed the little sculptures wedged between books, keeping them in place. The leather bound books weren’t just black — they were blue, green, red, purple. Some were grey, others white. No spine looked exactly like the other. “This is your library?”

Y/N shrugged. “Not anymore.”

Bucky frowned, looking at her over his shoulder. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Sam told me that, since coming back from war, you have this thirst for learning knew things. He told me it was important to you, for you to understand things and what made them tick.” Y/N shrugged. “I want you to have it.”

A laugh filled with disbelief escaped his chest. He looked back at the room, still amazed. It was too extravagant, too much. “You can’t be serious.”

“Absolutely. It’s yours if you want it.”

Bucky’s gaze shifted again, back to Y/N. His smile was beaming, eyes glowing. The feeling in his chest and stomach, he didn’t understand it. It was light and fluttery and unlike anything he had ever felt before. She introduced him to a new emotion, showed him a new side of herself. “Thank you, Y/N. Honestly, I — I can’t thank you enough.”

Meanwhile…

Steve sat at the farthest table in the bar, beer in hand and eyes staring intently into the bottom of the mug. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be wallowing. He should’ve fought for Bucky. 

The thoughts wouldn’t leave him alone. The guilt wouldn’t leave him alone. It was eating him alive. Was Bucky okay? Did that animal leave him locked up? It had been months now. Months since he’d last seen Bucky and all he wanted was to get his friend back. 

Boisterous laughter rang through his ears and blue eyes looked up, piercing through the crowd and immediately landing on the owner of the voice. 

Brock Rumlow.

He and his men had frequented their visits. They refused to simply come and go like they once had. It seemed Steve’s brief moment of disappearance encouraged it and Bucky’s current vanishing solidified the belief that they could make this place their favorite to disrupt.

Steve didn’t feel angry often. He did his best to keep his mind clear, to look for the right thing and the good moments. But the more Rumlow was around? The more Bucky was gone? Anger rotted his heart.

“Shut up,” Steve said, not thinking that he would be heard.

However, all eyes were on him in a moment. Rumlow was leaning back, woman in his lap and another’s arms looped around his. Nails dragged lazily down his chest and, instead of focusing on the woman who wanted his attention, Rumlow was much more interested in the man who decided to mouth off. 

“Did you just tell me to shut up?”

Everyone remained silent as Rumlow shoved the girl off. She stumbled to the side, caught by one of his horny soldiers. Standing up, Rumlow took slow strides to Steve’s table. He stared down at Steve who watched him so intently. Chuckling, Rumlow asked, “Where’s your guard dog? Barnes, right?”

Steve clenched his jaw, rising up. He stood about an inch taller than Rumlow and used it to his advantage, even though the leader of Hydra’s army refused to back down. “You don’t get to talk about him,” he said through gritted teeth. “I told you. You and your friends, just…be quiet. Go. You don’t have to stay here.”

Rumlow snorted. “No, we don’t. That’s the best part.” Smirking, he gestured to his men. Each reached for their sword. “We want to. And without Barnes, you’re only one guy - one drunk fool. So why don’t you go home? Hm?”

Steve’s hand instinctively flexed. He wanted to hit him. He wanted to pummel Rumlow into the ground and leave him in a bloody pulp. But there were fifteen other men, not counting the ones outside. They all had their swords and Steve was unarmed. And, though he didn’t want to admit it, Rumlow was right that Steve wasn’t of sound mind.

This was a fight for another day.

Shoving past each Hydra soldier, he forced himself to leave and never look back. The creak of the bar’s door and stench of alcohol were left in his wake. Rumlow smirked, watching him leave before glancing at one of his soldiers. “You, find out what happened to that Barnes guy.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I want to know exactly where he ended up.”

———-

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However, while Sam was enthusiastic to see the progress, he was one of the few aware of another’s progression. The Rose. It was withering away more and more with each passing week. The beautiful red was fading to that inky black and the petals that were already rotted had collected at the base. The sight was heartbreaking.

Sam stared at the symbol of their curse, jaw clenched and shoulders tense. He wasn’t sure what to think or do. Love comes at its own pace, in its own time. And though it felt like Bucky and Y/N were going at a snail’s pace, they were at least moving in the right direction. The rose’s petals just made it feel slower with each passing day.

“Staring at it won’t make it go away, Sam.”

He looked over his shoulder, the glow from his candles revealing Wanda watching him with that knowing smile. She was just as concerned as he was and honestly, the sight of her was better than Rhodey. Rhodey’s fidgety concern never did them any good. The man had lost a lot of his courage and confidence since the curse had taken place. Wanda was something else. Even with the curse, she refused to lose herself. It was what kept Sam so stubborn and strong. If she could do it, so could he. Finally, he breathed, “I know.”

“They’re in the library again,” Wanda let him know, hoping it would assure him in some sort of way.

“She showed him that place two weeks ago, Wands. They barely leave it now.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

Sam shook his head, eyes fixating on the Rose again. “Not if it means they’re stuck in their books and barely talking.”

Wanda huffed. “Maybe they’re just enjoying each other’s presence.”

“If that was enough to stop the curse, you know I wouldn’t mind it. They — They need a push. They need something that can make them see what it is that’s between them.”

“Y/N would kill us if we meddled.”

Sam didn’t want to point out that Y/N would kill herself if she was the reason the curse won. Wanda didn’t know Y/N like Sam did. She tried to, he’d give her that, but Sam being the knight left in charge of Y/N helped him really develop a friendship and understanding with her. He needed to take that and use it to help in some way.

Wanda watched Sam. He was easy to read. The man couldn’t succeed at a card game or lie even if he wanted to. He was too open about everything and she appreciated it. It helped her figure out where his mind was going before he even knew. Hesitating, she suggested, “Maybe we could pay her brother a visit. Maybe it’s time.”

Sam thought about it. Once upon a time, Tony was a lover. He knew how to romance and often tormented Y/N because she was so against the idea. It wasn’t until Loki when she held any sort of interest. That in mind, it would make sense to ask Tony for advice. The question was, “Do you think he’d help?”

He looked at her and Wanda offered a small smile. “There’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?”

Sam grimaced. “Yes, you’re right.”

Wanda laughed when she noticed his hesitation. “We could ask Rhodey.”

“No. No, we need to do this. It’s just — I don’t want him throwing me again! I still have a small dent from the last time.”

She snorted, rolling her eyes. “Come on, Sam.”

They knew it had been a while since anyone had visited Tony. His curse was different from Y/N’s. Loki had made sure to make both of them suffer in the worst sort of way. While Y/N was forced to live her life as a beast, every day seeing the effect her curse had on the palace’s servants, Tony had…something else.

A life of almost complete isolation. A life he chose because of Loki’s curse.

And that’s what led their journey below the castle. They were far enough underground, their journey bringing them through the wine cellar and even further bellow. Tony always liked staying out of the way when it came to his creations. Now it appeared he’d turned his sanctuary into his prison. Looking up at the door, Sam shifted slightly. He really didn’t like the idea of having to talk to Tony. Y/N was always the easier sibling. She knew she was smart, sure, but she still second guessed herself enough to keep the arrogance at bay.

Tony didn’t know how to do that.

“Are you going to knock?”

Sam gulped, his mind flashing to his last encounter here. “I need a push.”

Wanda nudged him forward and Sam sent her a pointed glare. He didn’t like being herded. Certainly not. Biting his tongue, Sam looked back at the door and raised his solid gold fist. Once, twice, three knocks until he chose to wait. They knew he wouldn’t answer, but they at least need to make their presence known before opening the door.

A low creak rang through their ears as they let themselves in the room. It was a rather spacious room, lit only by the glow of a few candles. There was a desk with book after stuffed book filled with Tony’s notes and ways of trying to figure out the curse. Judging by the layer of dust coating them, it had been a while since any of the books had bee cracked open. The chair had been discarded, lying on its side as if it were nothing more than a forgotten toy. Across the room was a painting similar to the one that hung in Y/N’s quarters. The only difference was that this particular portrait had his appearance burned out of it.

“Your highness?” Wanda called, eyes scanning the room.

Sam was never patient enough for Tony’s games. Letting out an annoyed huff, he shouted, “Come on, Tony, we know you’re in here. We need to talk. It’s about your sister.”

They heard the groan of iron before seeing it. The scrape of metal against metal sent a chill down their spines. Sam and Wanda shared a look before hearing the door on the far side of the room open. The creak of each step grew louder as Tony stepped through, finally visible through the dim light. 

“Oh, Tony,” Wanda whispered, her eyes taking in the rusted iron that mirrored the blackened petals she had seen earlier. “Is this part of —“

“Loki’s curse?” Tony’s voice came out to be an echo, as if it were rumbling through that metal chest of his. Gone was the human body he had taken such pride in, replaced by the shell he’d often used as protection when going to war. “He thought it to be…what was the word he used — ironic?” 

“We need to talk to you, Tony. We need your help.”

“Yes, I heard about my sister and her guest. Rhodey keeps me well informed.” Tony walked past them, almost kicking Sam if he hadn’t leapt out of the way fast enough. “Doesn’t explain your being here though.”

“Your sister isn’t exactly as successful with romancing as you are,” Sam told him, earning a laugh from Tony. It was weird to hear him sounding so…hollow.

“No, she’s not, but I have no interest in giving her tips.”

“Can’t you help us? If she breaks the curse, then you’re free.”

“I’ve long since lost hope that there is a way to break this curse, Sam.” He creaked as he leaned against the wall, the sound of metal against stone making Wanda and Sam wince. “I’m a hunk of metal. Every day it’s getting harder for my heart to beat. Breathing is…a chore. This has been a slow and painful punishment for our father’s mistakes and honestly, it would be giving Loki too much credit to say that there’s a way to end this.”

“There is a way. It just involves you helping your sister.”

“Ah, yes,” he laughed. “How did the whole thing go? That ridiculous spiel that Loki put together to anger everyone within these walls?” Tony looked at him, the metal of his face giving nothing away in regard to his emotions. All they could go off of were the tones of his voice. “‘The day the heartless Stark falls real and true…’” He let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head with a whiny grind of metal. “I always forget the rest.”

“‘So goes the curse that bears a Stark’s blind fear and rue,’” Sam told him, gaze shifting to the ground.

“‘Ten years time stands still, a kingdom’s home left to rot,’” Wanda added, her voice wavering. Each of them had memorized the curse when it first came about, desperate to find a way out of it that wouldn’t leave the weight of their lives on one young woman’s shoulders. “‘Till a love bears all, past crimes forgiven and forgot.'”

“Just like Loki to make something painful with rhymes.” Tony grimaced. He was disgusted for several reasons. His father’s actions resulting in Loki taking advantage of Y/N. Loki using Y/N’s youth and manipulating it, calling her heartless. His father taking every opportunity to make countless mistakes with neighboring kingdoms. Tony being left to fix his father’s actions. Tony being left to rot while trying to find loopholes. Y/N giving up for so long.

He hung his head. Of course Y/N had given up. Loki had tucked the castle in a fog, making people forget the kingdom and how to get to and from it. Everything had been stacked against her. Even his way of coping was stacked against her. He’d locked himself here, writing and rewriting the curse until he had to block it from his mind. Every day he felt something new, inside or out, turn to iron inch by inch. Hearing it again, after so many years, Tony felt sick. When did he stop being the brother Y/N could count on?

Looking up, Tony rest his head against the wall. The clang made him clench his jaw. There was no way to avoid any reminder. But if there was a hope of this curse breaking? Of Y/N being as strong and amazing as he knew she could be? Tony would have to help.

“I don’t know what to tell you about Y/N and the man she’s with, Sam. I don’t even know his name.”

“Bucky — he was Steve’s friend. You remember Steve, right?”

Tony tensed. Of course he remembered Steve. He was good at his job and a good man, always wanting to do the right thing. In fact, Tony had always hoped that his little sister would either wed the knight or someone like him. But his friend? Tony’s mind drifted to the memories he had of James Barnes. He hadn’t been given “permission” to call James by his nickname, only hearing it from Steve. The guy was a bit of a jokester when it came to his friendship with Steve, but there was always this dark side to him that Tony couldn’t quite figure out. And while he always preferred a guy with a dark side, he didn’t necessarily like that kind of guy being with his sister.

“Wasn’t Steve here before him?”

“Yes, but his search for help didn’t exactly leave him open to staying with…” Sam hesitated.

“A furry looking monster?” Tony chuckled, shaking his head. “Do not get me wrong. Steve is a good man, but sometimes his focus is so infuriating that it’s hard to get him to see anything else. Bucky was really the only person that could get through to him back then.”

“Bucky offered to stay so that Steve could go free. Even when he saw what Y/N looked like.”

Tony looked at Sam when he heard that, surprised. He knew he shouldn’t be. Those two had the weirdest relationship Tony had ever seen, but knowing what Y/N looked like and deciding to stay showed a level of loyalty he’d never heard of. So a dark side and loyal…

Maybe there could be worse things. 

“All right, so Rhodey told me about the wolves and the library and the invention thing. Honestly, that was a good idea. All of you are ridiculously loud with your constant thudding on the floors.”

“Says the tin man,” Sam muttered, slightly amused. He would never admit it, but he was relieved for Tony’s help. 

“Well…there is something you could plan.” Tony wanted to smirk. He wanted to get up and get to work planning on the idea that had popped in his head. He could see it working extremely well, but only if executed right. “Now listen very carefully because with people like Bucky and Y/N, you only get one shot.”

The two shared a look, knowing full well what could happen when Tony got one of his ideas. What exactly was the great Tony Stark planning?

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