#when rebecca lists the men she loved who abandoned her and her voice cracks at greg's name alone- ough. no one touch me

[artekai]

Greg Serrano

[whatcouldgowrong-ohthat]

The Prince and The Pauper Ch.2

The goal WAS to wait. I swear it was. However, I had most of this already typed up and couldn’t just leave it alone. So here it is!

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?

Council meetings were a sight and sound similar to family gatherings. Almost no one got along. Everyone had their own agendas and opinions, often deeming themselves more right than whoever sat to their left or right. Making progress was all about forming the right alliances while also gaining steps in your own plans. And it was a bitter pill to endure such toxic environments.

“Tell me, what actions would you recommend for a prince that has no interest in marriage?”

“He has a duty,” argued a voice.

A third chimed in, “Duty without respect leads to consequences no one anticipates.”

More voices argued, overlapping one another as each man tried to prove their mind was the most brilliant. It was irritating to hear men try to kiss their own asses, but alas, it wasn’t something uncommon in Shield. Rebecca huffed in frustration, watching from the secret room just outside the conference hall. The grate allowed her to hear everything, see the backs of a couple of heads, and actually keep an understanding as to what was occurring within the palace walls. She never understood how James could be so trusting of their opinions. But then again -- he was a man. He was allowed to voice his own. He was actually encouraged to be heard. 

Turning away from the grate, Rebecca pressed her back against cool stone and crossed her arms. She knew about Shield’s laws. She knew the flaws, the loopholes, every in and out that could possible be thrown in his face. Why didn’t he ask her for help with this whole arranged marriage? She knew why. Rebecca just didn’t want to admit that her brother was impossible stubborn and still a little close minded. She knew exactly the type of bride he needed and yet here he was, allowing court to choose that instead. 

But wasn’t he supposed to be here?

Brow furrowing, Rebecca pushed herself off the wall and stepped up to the grate. James usually was on time to these sorts of meetings. Trying to see past annoying wigs and thick-headed, old farts, she was confused to see Brock standing in the center of the room. Why was he there? He wasn’t someone to be trusted.

“What are you up to,” she murmured, tilting her head and straining to get a better look.

“Might we wait for the prince’s arrival before discussing these matters?” Brock’s voice carried, silencing the arguments of others. They barely managed to hold their tongues before the door was opening again. 

Rebecca breathed a sigh of relief when she caught the sight of familiar, short brown hair. At least he hadn’t completely abandoned his duties. 

“My apologies for arriving late. There was some difficulty with my horse and the stable boy.” 

She froze for a brief moment. That…that didn’t sound like James. Turning around, she craned her neck to hear a bit better. Was he getting sick? That wouldn’t look good for the arrival of their guests. But surely someone noticed, right? Someone would comment.

“We don’t need your excuses, Prince James.” That was the Grand Duke Fury. Rebecca remembered the times he taught her how to ride. He was a good man, though a bit impatient with foolishness. It seemed the older James got, the more Fury was under the impression that he was incredibly foolish.

“Nick, be nice. His Highness is facing a marriage proposal. I’m sure you were the same before marrying Maria.” Archduke Pierce. The sound of his voice made Rebecca’s skin crawl. He was two-faced, always putting on a show, but she had heard the stories from servants. How he treated the help was just as important to her as how he treated royalty. And that treatment was not the same. “When you couldn’t provide the name of a woman to marry, we assumed you hadn’t looked at the list we provided.”

She could just imagine James’s sheepish grin. “I had more pressing matters to attend to. Besides, I trusted the judgement of my council. That is what you are here for, correct?”

Rebecca straightened, fingers wrapping around the bronze bars of the grate. Was he mad? Openly admitting that he didn’t do his research? Handing them the upper hand in conversation? Oh, she would be giving him a piece of her mind later. That was certain.

“Your Highness, we’re your council,” Fury reminded. Sometimes she thanked her lucky stars that someone like him was around to keep an eye on James. Especially in moments like these. “But that doesn’t mean our purpose is to dictate the outcome of the kingdom’s future.”

“No, that would be the royal family’s,” another voice added. She vaguely remembered him -- Earl Cage. He was a good man, but she hadn’t seen him much since the Holiday incident. His permanent baldness had something to do with James’s pranks during his younger years. Since then, he was a great adviser, but didn’t exactly make himself join the family festivities. 

“We feel that the next step for Shield’s future would be to join with K.G.B and marry one of the royal family’s many daughters.”

There was silence, but it was overwhelmed by the sound of Rebecca’s heart beating rapidly in her chest. James promised anyone but the K.G.B. He promised he would protect her and that an alliance with them was not in Shield’s best interest. Taking such steps back for the women of this kingdom would be a nightmare. “No, James…” She held her tongue, fighting every urge to barge in and give her own opinions to Pierce’s ridiculous “advice”. “James, say something, damn it.”

“Which daughter did you have in mind?”

“The K.G.B king and queen have offered their pride and joy, the eldest.”

“I’ve heard rumors of Natalia’s beauty and brilliance.” Every word James spoke cracked Rebecca’s heart a little more. “She’ll make a perfect queen for Shield.”

Rebecca refused to let tears fall. She didn’t bother paying attention to the meeting coming to a close, knowing full well that she had her own alliances within that room. For the moment, she needed to catch her breath and formulate a plan. James had betrayed her trust in the worst sort of way, something they had always refused. They had always chosen to support one another despite their disagreements. He wanted her to advance in the world even through his tormenting her as his ‘little sister’. The sinking pit in her stomach refused to leave as she exited the small room. She was supposed to figure out her next steps, but her mind refused to cooperate. All she could wonder was , what had happened to her brother? What had happened to James Barnes?

 ___________________________________________________________

Everything hurt. That was the only thing he could think about. Everything hurt. Especially his head. What happened to his head?

Bucky sat up. THe action caused blood to immediately rush, finding its way to its proper places and causing his vision to go black. Squeezing his eyes shut, Bucky shook his head and tried to clear away that irritating, pounding feeling. “What the hell,” he muttered, trying to piece together the events before he passed out.

Opening his eyes, he breathed a sigh of relief when his vision returned to normal. However, the sight around him wasn’t familiar. He was in a…a tent? Glancing at the sheets around his waist, he didn’t recall how he got here. None of this was familiar to him. And where did his shirt go?

He tossed the sheets aside and rose from the bed. His legs tingled, probably from lack of movement, and he was relieved to find that he still had pants on. But no boots? Glancing around, he grabbed a shirt that was draped over what looked to be furs. He pulled the garment over his head as he stepped outside. The light was blinding. He shielded his eyes with one hand, adjusting the borrowed shirt with the other. However, the relief from the sun was short lived as he stepped on a broken branch. He grunted, instinctively picking his foot up. The sight to behold from his stumbling and twisting was far more entertaining than he would probably ever care to know.

“Whoa! Easy there, big guy. We can’t all take a hit from someone your size.” 

A hand found his back, helping him find his bearings. Bucky turned, wanting to thank the person. His brow furrowed as he tried to place the person. He wasn’t that tall. His scruffy blonde hair and impish smile showed a youthfulness that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “T-Thank you. I think.” Bucky took a step away, not appreciating the fact that he wasn’t sure where he was. Why didn’t he remember getting here?

“You look lost. Come on, Steve will be relieved to see that you’re finally awake.” Finally? Bucky watched the man walk ahead, still so lost and confused. The blonde looked over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “You coming?”

“Who are you?”

He raised an eyebrow before smiling sheepishly. “That’d probably help, huh? Uh…Clint Barton. Now, you going to move those trunks you call legs?”

Bucky frowned at the comment, but still moved. It only took him two steps to catch up to this Clint man. The two walked past several tents of random shapes and sizes. Most looked on the edge of being utter shambles. A part of him wondered why people chose to live this way. Weren’t there castles around? Weren’t there kingdoms where they could seek refuge?

“You look so confused. Poor guy,” Clint muttered, amusement laced in his voice. How was this man so casual and at ease? Bucky couldn’t wrap his head around it. Everything had him on edge. He was noticing every little thing and this man acted as if he was freaking out. He couldn’t help that he noticed everything. It’s just…that he did. “Steve! Look who’s decided to join the land of the living.”

Steve. He remembered that name. Vaguely, but he did. Allowing himself to focus on the new faces, he was met by the blue-eyed gaze of yet another blonde. He was taller than himself, but about the same size. His face was familiar -- like that of the young boy he used to cross paths with in a village.

What was the name of that village?

Bucky jumped slightly when a pair of hands wrapped around him in an attempt at a hug. He kept his hands at his sides, not sure why Steve was hugging him. Unless…was he the boy from the village?

“You look better than you did,” Steve told him, taking a step back when he realized how confused Bucky was. “Jeez, the last time I saw you, we were just two idiot kids trying to make names for ourselves.”

Bucky remembered that. He remembered the idiotic stunts they used to pull and shook his head. “Been a long time, hasn’t it?”

“Yeah, I never would have expected to see your face here.” 

Bucky looked around at the trees. They were so empty, cold and practically forgotten. The fog that lingered in the air reminded him of a fire. Was that what happened here? A fire that the forest never quite healed from? Looking back at Steve, his voice was barely above a whisper as he asked, “What happened?”

“One of Hydra’s members.” A new voice. It was oddly familiar. 

Bucky glanced over Steve’s shoulder, recognizing the eyes of the woman that had spoken. She had been staring down at him…Then she had looked concerned, scared even. Now? None of those emotions were there. Clint went and hugged her, ruffling her hair and earning a laugh. For some reason, the sight made Bucky’s heart beat a little faster. She looked happy even in the middle of such a dismal place. How strong did a person have to be to be capable of experiencing life in such a way?

“Buck?” The sound of his nickname caught Bucky’s attention. He looked back at Steve, trying to keep himself from blushing at the idea of staring. Steve chuckled and shook his head. “I can see what kind of man you’ve grown into.”

Bucky didn’t comment. Instead, he looked to Steve and told him, “Something happened in those woods, Steve. I don’t remember anything. I don’t remember why I was there or who found me before you did.”

“Hydra gives their men these ridiculous code names to refer themselves as. It’s to maintain some sort of level of anonymity. That being said, Scarlet Witch was the one we found you with. She studies magic and…” Steve hesitated, not sure what else to say.

Bucky watched him, jaw clenching when he thought about what the woman possibly could have done to him. “Steve, now isn’t the time to hide things. I’m already fucked as it is.”

Steve scratched the back of his neck, knowing Bucky was right. It was just a matter of finding the right words. “Because of the tricks that the Scarlet Witch is known for, Y/N believes she did something to your memories.”

He frowned, his heart dropping to his stomach at the very idea. Someone��someone took his memories? His gaze shifted back to Y/N, wondering how she knew that. And if this was the case - what was stolen from him? Was that why he didn’t recognize Steve? Did he have a family? Was he married? If there was anyone who knew about his disappearance, were they looking for him?

Steve noticed the panic in Bucky’s eyes and clasped his hands on either of his shoulders. “Buck, breathe. We’re going to figure this out together. I promise, we’ll restore your memories.”

Bucky finally met his gaze. The fear was so vivid in his stormy blues, making Steve even more worried for him. “Steve --”

“I promise.”

There was no room for argument. He knew he would have to believe in Steve. It might have been years since the pair had crossed paths, but he believed Steve was right. He believed Steve would do everything he could to get Bucky’s memories and get him home.

“I --” He sighed. “Where do we start?”

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