Chapter Text
Natalia Romanova was raised in a loving home with a loving mother and father. Their castle was more secluded, up in the snowy mountains. Living in this land was harsh and cold, but she had grown used to it. The villages were small, but her father had gained enough money to keep his lands thanks to the trade routes used to move goods through the mountains to the other side of the country. But that wouldn't always be the case, and she was aware there would need to be an alliance secured to help keep her family safe from the growing raids and wars that raged on around them.
She would turn twenty-six in the upcoming months and there were whispers and comments made about her age and her unwed status. Natalia wanted a husband, yes, she also wanted children one day but she wanted something her parents had. They may not have loved each other like some of those married in the villages but they had come to respect one another and did well to raise a child together. Mutual respect was all she asked for. True love wasn't a reality for someone of her status.
Over the last few weeks, things were growing worse. People in the village were getting sick, and those using the trade routes were fewer due to the fear of being attacked. Father could barely keep his small army afloat, and she knew her time as a maiden was coming to an end, even if her father tried his best to push off an alliance with marriage. So when she was called into his study for a meeting, she wasn't surprised. Her red hair was pulled back in a small bun, her posture rigid as a servant led her into the room. The study’s walls were lined with books, and a fire crackled in the corner, but her gaze didn't settle on her father but on the man standing before him. Ivan Petrovitch was a decent-looking man with dark hair and a scruffy beard. He was around her father's height, but his presence made others on edge. He commanded respect, even if he wasn't someone of a noble lineage like her or her father. He was a diplomat, he had survived one of the worst wars of this century, and all had taken his advice. He was a smart man, she respected him, but she didn't trust him. He did things to further his career and status, not to help.
“Natalia,” He smiled at her, gesturing for her to come sit. “Your father and I were just talking about you.”
She watched the pair intently, her father avoided her gaze. He looked older, the way the fire beside him caused shadows and creases on his face, it reminded her how neither of them were young anymore.
“Who is it?” She knew what this was about. Her time had run out. “Is it finalized?”
“Not yet,” her father spoke up. “I wanted to speak with you first.”
She swallowed, nodding. Both of the men looked tense, and she racked her brain for men who were eligible that she knew of. There was only a handful; however, her being older also put several men off. But there was one man whose family was as desperate for a bride as her family was for an alliance. “It is him, isn't it? The soldier.”
Her father nodded.
The man had also served in the war, like Ivan had. Rumors surrounded him like ghosts; they tainted his reputation. He was raised to be one of the most successful heirs in the family, but rumors spread about how he fought in the war. The cruelty he showed, the callousness and coldness he had. His father ran the army, but he was the assassin. The war changed him. Some said he wasn't even fully human anymore, that he had sold his soul to the devil and was given metal parts to protect him from others who wanted to kill him.
Many had tried. Some had gone after his father with little success. He was the single male heir to the Barnes family, a bachelor with women lined up at his door. But when he came back from the war, he isolated himself, and no one wanted to hand their daughters over to the man. The Barnes had wealth. But others were afraid of the evil spirits that might surround the Barnes family. It didn't help that Rebekah, their only daughter, passed a few seasons ago during childbirth. People believed the family was cursed for what James Barnes did.
Natalia didn't believe half of the rumors, but she also never wanted to figure it out for herself.
“When?”
Her father looked up, shocked. “You aren't even going to fight it? You know what they say about this man, Natalia.”
“And you know what they say about me, Father. Or have you been blind to the rumors?”
He pursed his lips. No, he knew of them as well. The Black Widow. The old maiden who knew too much. Many believed she was a spy, and they wouldn't be wrong. She was smart, her father had allowed her to study whatever she liked, and that made her dangerous to the men she would marry. Most were afraid her family would marry her off so she'd topple their kingdom. The rumors weren't unfounded; her ex-betrothed was no longer around, but that was not entirely her fault…still, the rumors stuck.
“Perhaps we are a perfect match for each other.” She tried to ease the tension. “Two misfits.”
“Natalia!” Her father barked at her, not amused one bit by the joke. Ivan smirked.
“Send the offer.”
Her father sighed in resignation. They were getting desperate, and both of them knew the family was running on borrowed time.
“I don’t want to send you to that man.”
“You won’t last another winter.” Ivan chimed in. “And she is not getting any younger.”
Natalia glared at the man, crossing her arms. There were others far older than her.
Her father sighed, running his hands through his greying hair. “If they are desperate, then they will be willing to negotiate. I could add clauses in there to protect your well-being, giving you causes for divorce.”
Ivan scoffed, “The family is aware of his behavior, and they won’t agree if there is a chance the alliance will fall through over a divorce. Besides, if she divorces, she will never be able to remarry.”
Natalia rolled her eyes. “Perhaps I won’t want to remarry. Marriage is not all we women are good for, Ivan.”
He grinned at her, “So there is truth to those Black Widow rumors.”
“Only if you want them to be.” She flashed him a smile that was all teeth and no charm. Her father was far less amused with her, giving her a stern warning. However, she could handle herself, and she wanted him to know that.
Two months later:
She wore a dark red dress made out of rich velvet. It was heavy but also warm. The accents were were black lace that lined the skirt and top of her bodice. The dress itself was simple, the bodice holding little detail but the colors were what made her stand out. With her red hair and pale skin, some whispered that she looked like a vampire. Her veil was made out of the same black lace, and she kept her hair down. If she was going to be wed to the most brutal man on the continent, then she was sure as hell going to make it known that she was also just as dangerous. She wasn't prey. Natalia Romanova would never be prey. Her parents did not approve, but they did not object to her decision. She was sure her future husband would have words, but as she stood in front of him, he wore no expression, no emotion. It was as if he were a hollow shell, standing in front of her.
He wore all black. The colors were so dark she could not tell where his jacket ended and his pants began. It was form fitting, every inch of him covered down to the black gloves he wore on his hands. He was a handsome man, in his early thirties. His hair was longer than she expected, nearly passing his jaw, and his eyes were an icy blue. She could understand why he was popular among the women before he went off to war. This man, however, didn’t look evil. He simply looked broken.
“Natalia Romaova, do you vow to be the wife of James Barnes, the mother to his future children, from now until the day you depart from this world?”
She looked into his eyes, and he stared back. The blue of his eyes looked cold, like a lake just beginning to freeze. “I do.”
The priest repeated similar words back to him but natalia was more focused on him, watching his expression. His voice was gruff, low, as if he wasn’t use to speaking. The ‘I do’ was quiet but it was all that was needed to seal her fate.
They were supposed to kiss, but he didn’t kiss her; he simply walked off the altar as soon as the man pronounced them married.
She followed. He had opted not to have a celebration, the ceremony being the only thing to formally show their alliance between the two families. Her parents were leaving the moment it ended, per his orders. She wasn’t surprised to know he hated strangers in his castle, and from what she heard from the staff, James rarely had anyone inside the enormous building, including family.
He left the large banquet hall, down a corridor lined with ivory molding. Candles kept the place lit, but the whole castle felt cold. There was hardly any furniture or personal effects. No paintings or tapestries. It felt like a prison of his own making. He stopped once they were deep enough in the corridor that you could no longer hear the crowd of people chatting, being escorted away. He turned to face her, and even with her heels, he was much taller than her. “This is a political arrangement between our two families, nothing more. You will stay out of my affairs and out of my business, do you understand me?”
She couldn’t stop the look she gave him. She should have been better at schooling her features, especially with her new husband. “You can avoid me as much as you like, but we are supposed to consummate our marriage.”
The soldier made a face, like the idea disgusted him. “We will have plenty of time for that. Speak with the staff, they will show you to your quarters.” He said gruffly, adjusting the black glove he wore on his left hand. When she noticed, he quickly stopped, dropping his hands. And then he walked away, leaving her in the hall.
She wasn’t sure if she should feel annoyed or relieved that her wedding night did not go as planned. Perhaps she should be relieved that the ‘cruel man’ hadn’t done anything to harm her. But if this was how her marriage would be, then it would be a very boring one…
Natalia roamed the halls, still in her dress, looking through empty room after empty room. Some held pieces of furniture, a rug or two, but most were just empty. The place felt haunted, like it once held a thousand memories that had long since been scattered and forgotten. Even the staff were few and far between. Quiet like mice, trained to go unnoticed, not to disturb their master. It was eerie.
By the time her lady-in-waiting found her, it was time for bed, and she was led to her chambers. Her room was not like the others; it held shelves full of books, a chest filled to the brim with plush blankets. There was a large sitting area near the hearth, and the bed was big enough for at least four of them to lie spread out on it. The real kicker, though? The candlesticks with hand-carved spiders on them. The book that lay on the small table by her couch that talked about the continent's most poisonous spiders. The splashes of red in the room where all the furniture was made out of a dark wood. He made it clear he knew of her past. She wasn’t sure if this was a threat or his way of making a joke. Either way, she gave him points for creativity.