Baron Helmut Zemo

A refreshing breeze billowed in through the open window in the study.  Zemo would often find himself there, head delved into yet another of his books.  His fingers drifted over the pages of the leatherbound book within his hand, pressing them down as the wind toyed with the paper.  His dark eyes scanned each sentence, each word, consuming every morsel of detail. He was engrossed and had been for a large part of the afternoon whilst Poppy visited the local market.   He looked to the clock upon his desk, noting the time.  He’d insisted he go with her, but Poppy being as stubborn as she was, had reassured him there had been no need.  It had taken some time, but the Baron was slowly coming to terms with having her in his life.  Someone he cared for, someone he loved.  Much like the gentle summers breeze she’d brought a sense of tranquillity and healing into his life and home. The sound of tyres upon gravel ushered in.  He lifted himself up from his perch and peered out through the window as he always did upon her return, though the car below was foreign to him.  His hand instinctively found the pistol hidden within his desk.  It wasn’t often the Baron had visitors, especially those that arrived unannounced.  However, the figure that stepped from the vehicle he recognised. The Baron eased his way across the corridors, down the stairs and to the main door just in time to stop the maid, assuring her that he’d deal with them.  A metal hand thudded audibly against the ornate oak door, and Zemo braced himself to welcome their guest.    

‘Meet me in the kitchen when you’re ready, draga.’

How could she ever be ready to say goodbye to him for the last time? Any pull at her heartstrings when she watched him exit the library was quelled by the fact that she would see him again - he came in like clockwork, and the moment she spied him she’d find an excuse to say hello, even if she was busy working in the stacks. But now when they said goodbye, she knew meant it. The realization fell hard into the pit of her stomach, and Poppy slowly sank to the floor after the Baron’s exit. The woman allowing herself a few heavy, unreserved sobs into her open palms. And then, Poppy did what she’d done so often in life - stiffened her upper lip, wiped the wetness from her cheeks, took a deep breath, and steeled herself toward the next step. The next chapter in the story of her life. 

She approached the nightstand where he’d laid out her freshly laundered clothes, the same ones she’d been wearing that day in the library. Those clothes she kept folded, instead slipping into one of the outfits that she was certain Zemo had purchased just for her brief stay - a cotton bra and panties, and a soft, vintage sundress that teased the tops of her thighs, just a hint shorter than what she wore in the library but without any stockings underneath. She was reaching for a cardigan sweater that looked like one she would pick for herself when the door burst open, and suddenly she was spinning into the Baron’s strong arms, his lips pressed snugly to her own, and had he not been holding her so snugly by the waist she was sure her knees would have given out from underneath her weight.

They were doing this. What this was, Poppy couldn’t be sure. But she’d never been a woman to turn away from the unknown. It all happened in what felt like seconds - the car ride to her apartment where she packed a small bag of sentimental and functional items. Clothing, the Baron had explained casually, would be taken care of with visits from the owners of finest couturiers upon their landing. The explanation that she didn’t need a passport because he’d already obtained one for her. The knowing smile in Oeznik’s eyes as he drove them to the tarmac of a private airport Poppy hadn’t even known existed until that very morning. Her head spun, and yet, not for one moment did she reconsider. Every moment with her hand in Zemo’s, with her thigh pressed against his in the backseat of the car, with her eyes on his surprisingly boyish grin only assured her that this was an adventure that wasn’t to be missed.

When the two finally boarded the plane, Oeznik was hidden away in the cockpot preparing for their takeoff. And for the first time all day, the space between them fell quiet. Poppy’s heart raced in her chest, turning to face the Baron and looking up into his eyes, full lips parted as she allowed herself to become lost in the way he was looking at her. A shaky exhale fell from her lips and her fingertips twitched as she extended a hand toward him, resting both palms on his chest and bringing herself closer to the man of her dreams. The woman swallowed hard and gave Zemo a hopeful look, eyebrows slightly furrowed as she spoke softly. “Are you sure you want this, Baron?” Now it was her turn to pause, to check in with the man she wanted so much. She ached to hear him tell her that he wanted her, that he longed for her the way she did for him, and her body shivered in anticipatory arousal as she breathed out a question once again. “Are you sure you want me?”

Zemo cupped her hands against his chest, pressing them ever so tightly against his warmth.  He could have sworn that to hold her hands within his own was the purest form of human connection he’d felt in years, a connection he yearned to hold dear for the rest of his days.  His deep and calculating gaze loomed to hers, and with a quizzical brow he listened to her speak.  Had she really asked him that?  It’d been a long while since he’d been sure of anything, but of this he was certain.  He couldn’t quite comprehend how he felt for her.  A searing sense of protectiveness, and a new sense of both strength and an inner peace whenever he was in her company.  He loved her.  Following the loss of his family, he’d resigned himself to the fact that he’d never feel those emotions again.  However, as he peered upon the dark-haired beauty in front of him, he thanked whatever God there was for this second chance at happiness.

“Draga…”  He began, giving her hands a gentle squeeze.  “I do.  I want this, all of this, but most importantly I want you.”  He peered at her, taking in each detail of her face as if he were looking upon her for the first time all over again.  His usually sombre expression warmed.  It had dawned upon the Baron that she was finally his, just as he would always be hers, his Baroness.  Just as he had done before, he placed his finger beneath her chin and gently lifted her lips to his own.  Not in invitation, or demand, but because it felt like second nature to him, to kiss her.  

Long drive ahead tomorrow but I’ll see if I can sneak in some replies!

Baron Helmut Zemo

Eyebrows furrowed and Poppy’s expression shifted. The sadness that had painted her face remained, but it was no longer for her own disappointment or heartbreak. No, her eyes were welling now solely for Zemo - for everything he’d had, and everything he’d lost.

“Helmut, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know…”

Poppy had never lost anyone. She’d never had anyone to begin with. The woman wasn’t close with her parents - her father had passed away when she was a toddler, and her mother was detached, uninterested in what Poppy had to say and even less so in what she had to think. The young woman left home as soon as she could, diving headfirst into academia and finding refuge in books. She hadn’t spoken to her mother since she called to share the news of her undergraduate degree with the cold, unenthused woman on the other end of the line. And with romantic love, the sort she so longed to cultivate with Zemo, Poppy was hardly more experienced. She’d rarely given herself permission to expect much of anything from anyone. Though a couple of serious boyfriends had come and gone from her life, none were someone she could envision spending the rest of her life with. But now, looking into Zemo’s eyes, she found herself unable to stop imagining the life they could build together. Though it felt foreign, absurd even to her ultra practical brain, for some reason when she thought about a future with Zemo she felt…warm. Full. Right. And now she was about to lose it before she’d even truly had it in her hands.

Poppy swallowed, eyelashes brushing the apples of her cheeks as she close her eyes and sniffled, hand still pressed tight to Zemo’s heart. At once, Poppy felt incredibly torn. Zemo had every right to push her away. He’d lost more than she could even imagine. The world had been so cruel to him. But somewhere in that optimistic heart of hers, the lessons from one too many love stories gave her hope. She could never replace what he’d lost. She would never even dream of it. But she could bring him something, she was sure of it, if he would only let her try.

Brown eyes opened and found his gaze again, the tip of her nose painted with a light shade of pink, her lips dry and parted. “I…” her voice betrayed her emotions, cracking and wavering, and she swallowed, tongue darting out to wet her lips as best it could before she started again. “I feel something when I’m with you. Something I’ve only read about in books.” She moved her hand from his thigh and the other from his chest, cradling either side of his face, thumbs brushing at the stubble that lined his jaw. The look on her face was heartbroken, heavy with guilt for longing to convince him to take her when all he wanted to was keep her -and his burgeoning feelings- safe. “But if you don’t want, if you can’t…” It was so unlike the woman to stumble over her words, and a deep blush spread across her cheeks, lower lip trembling as she inhaled deeply to collect her thoughts. “When do you have to leave?” It was clear the woman was trying to keep her chin up for Zemo’s sake, not wanting him to feel bad despite the fact her heart was in pieces. “I could ride with you. Help you pack. Something, Zemo.” And though Poppy realized her words sounded almost desperate, and in a different moment, with a different place, she might have been uncomfortable with the idea of this being the way she last saw the man she’d grown so fond of in the Library. But now, she couldn’t begin to care. She was her knees before him, tears long cried and face flushed with an openly vulnerable sorrow. There was no point in hiding what she so desperately wanted.

There hadn’t been a day since the destruction of Sokovia that Zemo hadn’t been fleeing, plotting, incarcerated or involved in some sort of illicit scheme or activity.  Restrained within his cell, he’d been forced to halt, to mull over the wrong doings of his past, facing an inevitable future locked within the Raft.

‘The living are not done with you yet.’ was a phrase once spoken to him by the late Wakandan King, but what use was he to the living when he so desperately yearned to reunite with the dead?  What use would he ever be, even after being acquitted of his crimes and released.  Only upon meeting Poppy had the coldness within him relinquished its grip.  She was the human embodiment of warm embers, a gentle soul capable of rekindling his lust for life.  If only he’d allow it.

He placed his hands upon hers, thumbs brushing ever so gently across her soft skin as he pressed his forehead forward to her own.  Poppy had nothing to apologise for, that he knew.  He’d been the one who’d kept his past hidden from her. And though it was a necessary defence, a means of protecting her, little did the tactician know just how close they’d become.   “Oeznik can see to all of that, but we have enough time for breakfast?”  He questioned, hesitantly pulling his face from hers.  His brow furrowed, a desperate attempt to stem the sting burning within his eyes.  It angered him, the emotions welling within him.  He couldn’t make this harder for her, he wouldn’t, and so he lifted himself from his perch.  “Meet me in the kitchen when you’re ready, Draga.”

The Baron pressed his hands upon the edge of the worktop, his knuckles white beneath his skin and palms clammy with a rare strain.  A necessity, he reminded himself.  This had to be.  

“M’lord?”  Came the familiar Sokovian voice.  Oeznik had returned, a brown envelope in hand.  “I hope I’m not speaking out of turn, but must you part?  You’re different around her, much like your old self.”

“Oeznik, we’ve known each other many years, but that doesn’t excuse your boldness.”  Zemo hissed in reply, instantly regretting his animosity.  He didn’t deserve that.  He heaved out a heavy sigh and turned to his friend, his expression softening.  “You know why.”

The butlers’ lips stiffened to a thin line.  He edged himself nearer and placed the envelope upon the worktop, dismissing himself in the process.  

Zemo lifted the package and was about to throw it in his anger when he noticed something unusual.  The package was heavier than he’d expected.  Only slightly, but it was noticeable. He peeled it open and emptied out the contents.  Not one, but two sets of passports, drivers’ licences, bank cards and the like fell from the envelope.  All the documents required for him and Poppy to make a new start. He laughed, a genuine smile creeping its way onto his lips, and he instantly began making his way back to his room.

Within a mere moment he’d crossed the space and stood before her, his chest heaving.  

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He questioned her sternly, though he couldn’t hide the desperation within his voice. “You want this life, with me?”