Beauty and the Beast Ch.8 (Bucky x Reader)
We are getting closer and closer to the end, guys! I’m thinking I’m going to finish this one up since it’s so close, then focus on “His Shooting Star” and “The Prince and the Pauper”.
Summary: It took the kingdom of Hydra five years to finally take advantage of the disappearance of the Stark Kingdom. It took Prince Brock two weeks to make the small, unprotected village of Marveline hate his existence. His ways left Captain Rogers to go looking for help, hoping to find a royal family that could protect the people. But what happens when he hasn’t come back? It’s up to Bucky to find out what happened to his best friend and the royal siblings, but he never expected what’s to come.
Chapter 8
"I love him."
The words seemed to echo in Sam's mind as he tried to explain the situation to his friends and family. No one could grasp at the fact that Bucky was gone. Everyone thought it was going well and to hear the sound of Bucky leaving for the second time? They couldn't understand. The unspoken truth was that they were running out of time. And no one knew what to do. Fear was taking the lead.
"Everybody, calm down," Rhodey shouted, voice carrying over the arguments already filling the halls. "Give Sam a chance to explain."
All eyes were on him. He fidgeted slightly, knowing this would be a little difficult to explain. "She's...She's in love with him."
"Then the spell should be broken," a voice shouted, their face lost in the crowd.
"No, it's not enough." Wanda this time. Sam breathed a sigh of relief when she appeared not too far away from him. "The curse isn't merely a Stark falling in love, but someone falling for her as well."
"Does it count if he doesn't even know who she is?"
More murmurs and arguments arose, everyone wondering if that was true. Was that a legitimate fear? Were these secrets going to be what kept them in this cursed state forever?
"Enough." The tin voice rattled through their minds, cutting thoughts and opinions short. No one expected to hear that voice. Tony creaked his way down the hall, ignoring the concerned look that Rhodey sent his way. This was certainly not about him. "I know that our family hasn't done the best by you. The curse wasn't right and we - I accept full responsibility for the mistakes of my father. If there was a way to turn you all back, you know we would take it in a heartbeat. You all have been good, loyal people. And I'm sorry." A pin drop could be heard, the silence was so deafening. No one had really seen Tony in years. It was as if a ghost had walked into their lives. He stood, armor glinting even in the low light. If he could give that smug smirk and enjoy being the center of attention again, he might've. But these circumstances caused a different set of emotions to dance in his stomach - anxiety, fear, worry. "Well, don't everyone talk at once."
Awkward laughter cracked through the tension. It seemed that there might be a chance that everyone would adjust to his sudden reappearance with little to no issue. "It's good to see you here, Your Highness," Scott spoke, earnings nods of agreement and a few smiles.
The anxiety slowly melted away and Tony found himself feeling a little more at ease. It would all be fine. It would all be fine. "Well," he cleared his throat, the sound akin to a pebble dropped in a tin can. "Where is my favorite stable boy, huh?"
Heads turned, eyes searching for the boy Tony had taken under his wing before the curse had struck. Peter had made himself comfortable aiding Wanda in the kitchens, but before he was the best stable boy the kingdom had ever seen. Tony was eager to train him to be a knight some day, making it his mission. However, the two hadn't crossed paths in quite some time.
"He isn't here." The confusion laced in Maryjane's voice signaled that she hadn't expected that. Wanda, Sam, and Rhodey immediately scanned the crowd, panic starting to set in when they realized the little teacup wasn't among their friends.
Even so, their panic was no match for Tony's anger. "What do you mean? Where is he?"
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Arriving home wasn't something that sat well with Bucky. He didn't understand it, but he felt like he wasn't coming home. It felt like he was leaving it behind. Dismounting the mare he had borrowed from Y/N's stables, he stared at the small house before him. Steve had to be here. He wouldn't be foolish enough to confront Brock and his men over and over. Not without backup. Right?
"Steve?" Bucky stepped through the doorway, gaze scanning and searching for any sign that his friend had been here recently. "Steve, please tell me you're here."
Nothing.
Making his way to the stairs, they creaked under his now foreign weight. He was hoping and silently praying that maybe, just maybe, Steve was sleeping hard enough that he didn't hear Bucky's arrival. But the sinking pit in his stomach reminded him that Steve had never been a light sleeper.
"Steve," he tried once more, opening the door that lead to his bedroom. It was empty, bed neatly made and fresh drawings hanging in the air to dry. Bucky clenched his jaw, trying not to let his fear bring up the worst possibilities. "Damn it..." His voice was barely above a whisper, trembling as he tried to keep the tears at bay. His choosing to trade places with Steve was what brought this mess on. It was his fault.
"Mister Bucky?"
That...That wasn't Steve. Bucky looked down at the satchel attached to his hip. It had been where he had stored the mirror, but there wasn't anything else in there. Or so he believed.
Peter nudged the flap of the bag open, grinning up at the man who stared at him in complete shock. "Hi!"
"What the hell are you doing here?" Bucky lifted Peter up, setting him on the bed and crouching before him. So many questions ran through his head. Did Y/N know? Were they looking for him? Why was he even here?
"I wanted to figure out why you left."
Bucky frowned. "Peter, you shouldn't be here."
"And neither should you. You should be with Y/N."
"No, I should find Steve." He rose, his mind already listing the different places Steve could be. The best one to check would probably be the tavern.
"You stay here."
"But -"
"Peter, stop. I don't have time for this." Bucky walked around the bed, closing the satchel as Peter hopped across the thin mattress. "Just let me find Steve and I'll be right back." The door closed behind him, silencing Peter before he could develop any sort of argument. Rushing down the stairs, he came to the front room as the not-too-distant sound of horses met his ears. What was that?
Opening the door, Bucky stumbled back when he came face to face with an unexpected guest. His hand instinctively grasped the leather at his side, his jaw clenching and shoulders tensing. "Brock."
"Hello, Barnes." The Hydra officer leaned forward, arm propping itself against the doorway and revealing the sight just behind him. Steve was in chains, unconscious and head cast to the ground, a hollowness to his face. He'd lost weight and the injuries did nothing to help keep his strength. The sight made Bucky's heart stop. This was what happened to his best friend? This was what he had caused?
"Steve..." He stepped forward, his mind instantly reeling and instinctively acting on all he could think of - instinct. He was stopped by Brock's hand pressing against his chest. His piercing gaze shifted to the officer before him. Oh, all Bucky wanted was to punch that smug grin off of his face. "Let him go."
"No." His grin turned into a smirk as he added, "I think I have a better idea."
The sound of shouting forced Peter to look away from the door and instead, to the window on the opposite side of the room. He hurriedly made his way across, struggling to finally reach the windowsill, but finding aid with the nearby chair. Breathing hot air against the cloudy glass, he squinted and struggled to make out the figures. "Bucky!" Hopping eagerly when he recognized his friend, Peter's brow scrunched when he noticed that someone was punching him. "No! No, stop it!" Peter spun around, looking around the room for some form of escape, but finding nothing that could be of any use. "Come on, there has to be something."
Bucky's knees hit the ground, arm unable to dodge the foot that kicked the back of his head. His face greeted the mud and he grimaced. It tasted disgusting. He grunted when one soldier twisted his arms behind his back, another yanking his hair back and forcing him up.
"So where were you, Barnes?" Rumlow asked, his voice closer to Steve.
Meeting Brock's gaze, Bucky sneered before spitting out grass and dirt. "Go fuck yourself."
Brock scoffed before gesturing for one of his soldiers to throw Bucky's bag his way. He caught it with one arm. "Let's take a look, shall we?" He watched the way Bucky's eyes flashed, the emotion something he didn't care to think too much about. Instead, he flipped the satchel over and spilled out its only contents. The mirror.
Bucky jerked, trying to free himself from the two soldiers. Through gritted teeth, he spat, "Be careful with that."
Brock smirked, tossing the satchel to the side before picking up the mirror. He didn't pay much attention to the reflection, instead flipping it over. The smug expression, that pleased glint in his eyes, it vanished at the sight of the insignia on the back. He turned his attention back to Bucky. "Where did you get this?"
Bucky grinned. "Bite me."
"You can never make things easy, can you? Always having to turn me into some sort of bad guy." Brock rolled his eyes and turned away, taking strides towards Steve. Bucky tensed when he saw one of the soldiers pass him a sword. "Do I have to ask again?" Stepping behind Bucky's oldest friend, he held the sword to Steve's throat. The look in Bucky's eyes earned an amused grin. "Where did you get the mirror, Barnes?"
Bucky's gaze never wavered from his unconscious friend. He couldn't fail him again. "I - The castle.”
"The only castle around for miles is Hydra's and this," he flipped the mirror around, showing the back to Bucky. "Isn't the Hydra insignia."
Bucky bowed his head, strands of hair shielding his face as he tried to blink away tears. "No, it isn't."
"So care to share with the group?"
Clenching his jaw, Bucky refused to look his way. Steve was the stronger of the two. Always had been. He was a good man, a fighter. He didn't deserve this. But if Steve was awake, if he could fight, he wouldn't want Bucky to say a word. The idea of Hydra getting the upper hand was something Steve would never let happen. Shoulders slumping, he couldn't help but wonder - how did it get this bad?
"Alright, have it your way." Brock tossed the mirror to Bucky's feet, the reflection staring up at him, mocking him. Bucky blinked, fresh tears slipping down his cheeks and onto the glass. He glanced up, seeing the sword raise. Steve might not want Hydra to win. But Bucky did not want Steve to die. His eyes grew as the sword came down, struggling to break out of the grip of his captors. "Wait!" The sword stopped only an inch away from Steve's neck. With his back to Bucky, Brock gave his soldiers a knowing smile. He turned to face Bucky, flipping the sword and striking it into the ground. "Yes?" Bucky's panicked gaze looked from Steve to the mirror and back. He could right this. He could help Y/N through whatever Brock had planned, but he couldn't save Steve if he was dead. Eyes never wavering from Steve, he said, "Show him. Show him everything." Brock's brow furrowed, confusion evident. It vanished as quickly as it appeared when he noticed the reflection in the mirror begin to change. Gone was Bucky's reflection, quickly replaced by the woods. It seemed to be traveling, showing the way to the castle that appeared just beyond the trees. Brock picked it up, eyeing the imagery carefully. It was dark, a looming structure he couldn't quite place the familiarity of. It wasn't until the image rippled again and showed a wild animal, a beast, that Brock dropped the mirror in disgust. "What the hell was that?" The sight of Brock's disgust made Bucky's stomach churn. Not so long ago, he would have reacted the exact same way. Now that he knew Y/N, the clear reaction only made Bucky angry. "She is a good person. Someone better than you could ever be." Brock laughed. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you have feelings for that creature." When Bucky's gaze never wavered, Brock laughed. "Are you in love with that thing? That beast?" Bucky jerked forward, fighting off the guards only long enough to rise to his feet. They pulled him back, a third soldier unsheathing his sword and pressing it to Bucky's neck. He didn't flinch, staring Brock down. "She's not a beast." "A 'she' is it?" Bucky growled. "Yes." "Careful, Barnes, you're sounding a little like a beast yourself." "She's good and kind. There's more humanity in her heart than you and your men combined." "She's a danger to your town's people." "No more than you, Rumlow," he spat. Something shifted in Brock's features. Bucky couldn't quite place it, but the sight sent a shudder down his spine. He clenched his jaw, flinching when Brock raised his hand, pressing the blade against Bucky's neck. It pricked the skin, allowing a slow trickle of blood to glide down his neck. "Let's see about that, hm?" Taking a couple steps back, he turned to his soldiers. "Let's pay this castle and its beast a visit!" Soldiers cheered, rising up with excitement and immediately going to their horses. Hand catching the shoulders of two nearby soldiers, Brock said, "Take care of these two. Make sure they can't follow us."
"Rumlow, I swear to whatever god there is that you will pay if you so much as touch her." Bucky tried to throw off the soldiers holding him back, ignoring the stinging pain that came from his neck. Brock looked his way and smirked. "You'll have to catch me first, Barnes." "Rumlow!" Bucky lunged, missing the sight of one of the soldiers raising the hilt of his sword. He was struck in the back of the head. Falling to his knees, the last thing he saw was Brock mounting his horse before everything went black. Peter's features were pressed to the glass to the best of his abilities. He fidgeted nervously. Bucky was unconscious like his friend. The soldiers were leaving to attack his home, his friends and family. And he was stuck here. "This isn't good. This is not good. Not good at all."
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