Winter Soldier x Reader. No warnings needed for this snippet.
Night was something most found peaceful, serein some might say. The never-ending blackness that stretched for miles over head of all those sleeping in their beds getting rest they desperately needed. People you were envious of at the moment, those who could effortlessly fall asleep with the perfect environment to engulf them in comfort. Unlike you, who was stuck awake in your bedroom staring up at the blank ceiling hoping to catch just a wink of sleep. A struggle that was not unfamiliar to you in anyway. Not after seeing him outside your window on the rooftop nearby.
Something about him unsettled you to the deepest parts of your core, although you had never even seen the man before he brought another form of dread into your stomach one could only imagine. With dark long hair and a mask that covered his lower face staring somehow directly at you through your window. Well at least you thought he was, It was kind of hard to tell with him being a couple hundred feet away but. Still, the fact that you could feel his eyes on you from that far was unsettling on multiple levels.
It was stupid to be paranoid over a man you saw one time up there. Maybe he was just a worker fixing something on the adjacent rooftop. Silly reason to be so jarred awake in fear.
Yet every-time you closed your eyes you could only picture his menacing aura above you. Whether he had broken into your apartment or chasing you through the snowy woods- something you had never dreamt before. He was always there bringing you these terrible dreams and awful feelings of dread deep in your gut.
Also I had a thought today while driving (I know, dangerous) but there’s no evidence that suggests Bucky knew how to ride a motorcycle before he became the winter solider, meaning someone had to teach him.
Someone had to teach the winter solider how to ride a motorcycle.
Imagine being that poor intern. You have to teach an assassin with a metal arm who’s ready to kill at anyone moment how to ride a motorbike. But on the plus side you get six college credits
So I know that most people are going to see this and probably think it’s something like Barbie’s The Princess and the Pauper. I just want to warn y’all that like the only thing they have in common is the fact that Prince and Pauper swap places. I hope y’all don’t mind, but I just wanted to make it clear ahead of time. :)
Summary: James Barnes is a prince given everything. He can travel and explore, live a life unlike any other man, and he loves every moment. He can love any woman or man, come and go as he pleases, and gives an opinion on the politics of his kingdom. When the news of his arranged marriage comes about, James finds himself needing only a moment to get away. However, a moment can change everything. What happens when a man identical to James crosses paths with him in this moment of weakness? And what happens when James is forced to live as “Bucky” - a simple peasant whose kept under the stern watch of Clint Barton and his sister, Y/N?
Chapter One
Rays of sunlight streamed through golden-framed windows, lighting up the contents of the study. Its warm glow cast a particular shine on the family portrait, lighting up the faces of the royal siblings. Dark hair framed similar faces, bright blue eyes staring intently at any passing viewer that took the moment to notice them. They were young in the portrait, no more than eleven and fifteen.
Oh, how times have changed.
Ten years had passed since that portrait had been finished. And James, the older of the two, only kept the décor around for the sake of his sister, Rebecca. Flipping through a book, the prince passed by the painting and instead stared intently at the pages. He was searching for an answer, for a way to get the council to see his way. He had to be prepared for today's meeting and although he'd had three years to prepare for the day, the particular subject that was planned for discussion always seemed to slip his mind. Until now. Until five hours before he'd be told who he's signing his single-status away to. It was an arranged marriage that he had never agreed to, but that was the tradition Shield had thrived on for centuries.
"You look busy."
James looked up, blue eyes shining particularly bright when the sun caught them just right. He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that it was only Brock. He had come to trust the man well over the years, the advisor really being someone that he would give his life for. "Yes, I was." He shut the book, knowing that confiding his concerns to Brock would earn himself a lecture. The man, though a friend to James, had the kingdom's best interests at heart. And the kingdom's best interests always involved tradition.
Brock smirked, pushing himself off the shelf he'd leaned against. He made his way to the desk covered in books, noting their titles and which particular ones had pages marked. "You're looking for a way out? Aren't you cutting it a little close?"
"Maybe, but there's no proof that tradition always suited a kingdom best." James offered that boyish grin, the same one that would get him out of trouble with his mother. "And I have a history with the council. They know I've made good decisions in the past and I've always had Shield's best interest at heart."
"Yes, but you aren't king yet, James. Should you push your luck every chance you get?" Brock hesitated, lifting the cover of one book before dropping it with a soft thud. "You don't know. Perhaps this woman could be someone you see yourself with. You could really have a life with this woman and fall in love."
James snorted. "You actually think that?"
"Perhaps."
The prince watched his advisor for a moment, noting the way Brock didn't meet his eyes. "You know who she is." It wasn't a question, but a statement. Brock was the best at finding out any information he possibly could. It was his best skill and one that James often relied on for finding out those particular details the council tried keeping in the dark. This seemed to be one of those moments that he would definitely be relying on Brock's talent. "Well, come on, then. Tell me who it is."
"I shouldn't, Prince James."
"Why? It could help me, you know. I thought you were on my side."
"You already know that isn't the truth. I'm on the side of the kingdom. You are merely one man."
James huffed, leaning against the edge of the desk. He wasn't sure he would really mind the idea of a wife. It was possible that tradition might work, sure. He wasn't going to be so thick-headed that he would argue for no reason. However, there were some potential unions that James had no interest in being a part of. One of which was K.G.B. Their women were strange and the idea of his little sister having to endure anything similar to the stories he heard of the "Red Room"? A shudder ran down his spine. No, that was one union he refused to be a part of. For the sake of his sister, he refused to let the K.G.B marry into Shield. He would not let Rebecca lead that life. Not as long as he was alive. "Brock, you know I am only against one potential bride. Only one. Can you assure me it isn't her?" Brock hesitated, gaze fixated so intensely on the books that James was almost positive he could burn a hole through them. "Brock, please?"
Brock drummed his fingers and finally met James's gaze. "If you gave Natalia --"
"Oh, come on!"
"I'm only saying this as your advisor."
"Then what about as my friend?" James stood, anger flashing in those brilliant eyes. "I didn't want to marry, but so long as it could open doors for Rebecca, I was willing to consider."
"Says the man who was looking for an out moments before my arrival. It doesn't matter the name of the kingdom or the princess. It doesn't matter the influence it has on your sister. You enjoy your lifestyle, James, and its coming to an end makes you a terrified man," Brock pointed out, earning a glare.
"Watch yourself, Brock."
"I could say the same to you, your highness." Brock faced James completely, hands dropped to his sides. "You say you are fine with an alliance and you look for any possible loophole. Tell me, James, which is real? Which story is honest?"
"I don't want Rebecca to endure any influence from K.G.B."
"Then who would you recommend? Tell me the name of one woman that you would willingly marry. Tell me which kingdom would lead to you putting these books away and instead acting as the future king. If you can give me a name, I will go to the council right now and put this whole argument to rest." Silence. "I thought not. It does no good to talk yourself in circles, your highness."
James grit his teeth, shoulders tensing and practically reaching his ears. He tried to slow his breaths and calm himself, but knew he was unable. His heart beat wildly in his chest, hammering through all his anger and frustration and yet unable to calm him in any sort of way. "What would you do?"
"My responsibility."
He glared at Brock, hating that the man was so dutiful to Shield and its mind-numbing "duties". "It's done," he muttered, looking away. Another statement. James had no loophole, nothing to offer instead. He was left with the council's decision and it would lead to Rebecca suffering in the future.
"There are still hours until the meeting. Get some fresh air. Allow yourself to clear your mind before you go before them."
James glanced to the window, to that warm sun that had been encouraging only an hour before. Now it seemed that was his fleeting escape before everything would be finalized and set in stone. Grabbing the jacket draped over the chair, he ordered Brock, "Don't tell anyone that I've left."
"Yes, my prince."
Hesitating, James told him, "Don't tell Mother or Rebecca about K.G.B. They need to hear it from me."
"Of course, but please, take the time to calm yourself."
Watching his retreating form, Brock tilted his head curiously. Was the prince really so easy to manipulate? How...pathetic. Sighing softly, he picked up one of the books and read its spine. Grimacing with distaste, he set the book back in its place and muttered, "Pierce will be glad to know that everything's falling into place rather well."
---------
Shield's vast country was a particularly wonderful aspect of the kingdom. With massive forests to the north and south and mountains protecting it from both east and west, Shield was practically impenetrable. It made escape, desperation, and a need for adventure almost easy to find. The kingdom never had to worry about the nomads that lived within the forest because they didn't have the resources to take on Shield's army. They needn't worry about the possibility of threat coming from the mountains due to the never-ending winters that plagued the peaks.
But between the two, James's favorite escape was exploring the forests. He never seemed to get enough of the possibilities. The northern forest was eerie with a constant fog. It left him desperate to seek out anyone who had the potential to survive a world that lacked food, resources, or any means for expected survival. Meanwhile, the southern forest was constantly damp with thick canopies that left almost no room for sunlight to come through. Animals thrived as did evolved plants. He remembered one knight who had come back without his leg, delirious from the acid that had come from one of the carnivorous flowers.
So which was he to escape to?
James dismounted his horse, knowing better than to encourage the beast to trek into the northern forest. He pat her neck, cooing comforting words as he eyed the dense fog before him. Other than making out vague shadows and figures that he assumed to be branches, James could see nothing. It was the perfectly place to leave his thoughts behind, lost to the world. "I'll be back soon." The horse, Domino, knickered, moving in front of him and earning a roll of the eyes. "I will. I've explored this place more than the other and have yet to run into anyone that could live here. Relax." Domino was obviously displeased, but allowed James to move around him. "I just need to clear my head. If I don't come back soon, come and find me."
It wasn't exactly normal that James assured his animal or that he even offered it solutions, but the bond he shared with the beast was unlike what most would work to create. The two trusted one another and, on more than one occasion, had saved each other's lives. He knew that he could trust Domino to find him and bring him back safely.
And so James walked. He was slow with his steps, deliberate just in case. He couldn't afford to be late for the council, but James certainly didn't want coming back to be easy. He wanted the challenge and was desperate for it. All he wanted was to get lost in the possibilities of a future, but if not, he could get lost here. Here could be enough. Ducking under a branch moments before it could snap him in the face, he rounded a corner and kept on a new path. Maybe he could find someone this time? Maybe now there would be something different?
However, as easy as it was to get lost, as easy as it was to hope for a new adventure, it was just as easy to lose track of time. There was no way to tell where the sun was in the sky, its rays unable to break through the thick clouds residing just above. Instead he was left to guess, to assume whether it was moments, minutes, or hours.
And perhaps it had already been more than the former. Pausing in his tracks, James squinted, already knowing it would do him no good. Of course it wouldn't. Sighing softly, he scratched the scruff of his jaw and looked around. Had he come from that way? Or that way? Could he try to backtrack with his footsteps? No, the ground wasn't soft enough.
"Domino!" His voice echoed, lost to the wind and James knew that maybe he was in trouble. Maybe he would have to offer a few apologies to Fury, Pierce, and Brock.
Maybe.
"Domino," he called again, spinning around. The more he looked, the more his memories began to blur together. He really couldn't recall which was which. "Really, now you want to be a stubborn mule?"
"That's not very nice."
James froze, the sound of the feminine voice surprising him. He looked over his shoulder, a woman decked in red being the exact opposite of what he was expecting. "Hello."
"Hello." She smiled, tilting her head curiously as James turned to face her.
"You're the prince."
James knew he shouldn't admit to that. If this woman wasn't alone, they could possibly kidnap and attempt to ransom him. Or worse, they could kill him. "I'm afraid you have me mistaken."
"No, I don't. I'd know that face anywhere. You look exactly like Soldat.”
James's brow furrowed as he looked around, expecting others to come from what he assumed was nowhere. "Who is Soldat?"
"He is." She pointed past James. He turned around again, his head practically spinning. However, it all came to a screeching halt when he saw the person before him. Ice seemed to hit his veins, stopping him from forming any sort of retaliation. Before him stood an all too familiar face. An all too familiar person.
It was him. Except it wasn't. Long hair shielded the same blue eyes and where James had scruff, this "Soldat" had a full beard. He was wearing simpler clothes and it seemed there was a hollowness, a wall in his gaze to keep the rest of the world at bay. It was similar to the look he'd seen in his men that had come back from the war. Now he was seeing it in himself.
"It looks like Crossbones didn't fail us," he spoke, his voice exactly like James's except softer.
"Who is Crossbones?" James frowned and made a pass for his sword. The action was stopped almost instantly when a knife whizzed just past, barely nicking the back of his hand before striking the ground. He looked to where the attacker must have been, unable to see anyone through the fog. "What is this?" He took steps away from the woman and Soldat, frowning when they took slow strides towards him. "I demand for you to explain yourself."
"How cute." The woman's hands glowed scarlet, a type of magic James had only ever heard stories of. "He thinks he has a say here."
"Who are you?" James's back hit a tree, earning an uncomfortable grunt from him.
"Don't think about that right now." Walking to his side, the woman ran her finger along his jaw and leaned closer. Her eyes flashed scarlet as she whispered in his ear, "I have something else to cloud that little brain of yours."
His mind flashed brilliantly, as if wisps of scarlet were dancing through his mind. James grunted, clenching his jaw as he leaned forward. A hand propped on his knee, struggling to hold him up. "What are you --"
"Go, Soldat, I have this." The words were muffled, practically lost on the prince.
"Just be sure to finish the job this time."
The sound of footsteps was lost beneath the pounding of James's heart in his ears. He breathed heavily, practically hearing the sound of blood coursing through his veins. Everything was heightened, turned up to a twelve. It left him trembling, lost in his mind. Falling to his knees, he started forgetting about Shield and his life. He started forgetting about titles and duties, his mind drifting off to a world he had yet to see before.
Until it stopped.
James fell forward, turning his head just in time to see the scarlet woman cry out and stumble back. An arrow struck the ground. He only saw her feet and legs, his hands pinned at his sides by the weight of the world and unable to lift him up. He didn't see the attacker. He couldn't make them out through the black edging at the corners of his eyes. Everything felt so...heavy.
"Wh-Wh..." His voice trailed off, lost in his throat.
"Fight or flight, witch? She won't miss again." That voice sounded familiar. It was male, but James couldn't bring himself to make out where he knew it from. "And I can do this all day." Who was he? Why was he so familiar? Blinking slowly, he watched the scarlet woman's feet turn and run, disappearing in fog almost instantly. The man's feet turned to face him and, instead of walking towards him, James felt the hands of a third person flip him over. They were small and frail. For a moment, he tried fighting, thinking that it was the scarlet woman yet again. Until he saw this woman's face. It was a blur, but clearly different from the other that had attacked him earlier. Finally, the man who had spoken appeared just behind what he assumed was a concerned face. His low voice rumbled, "Oh, Buck..."
Was that his name? Buck?
The woman looked towards the man still standing. "We have to get him out of here, Steve." She finally spoke. It was nice, oddly comforting.
Steve. Buck knew a Steve, but that was a long time ago. A really long time ago.
"If she was here, there's no doubt that the others are close." Watching Buck intently, her hand brushed the scruff on his cheek. "Maybe Bruce can do some damage control."
Steve nodded. He disappeared for a second before it felt like the ground was disappearing out from underneath Buck. He realized then that Steve was carrying him. Shaking his head, the blonde looked down at Buck and couldn't stop himself from asking, "How the hell did you get out here, Bucky?"
Bucky. He shrugged, unsure how to answer because he couldn't really remember. But that name sounded familiar. Bucky.
