Clever as the Devil and Twice as Pretty
Holly Black
2006, Red Room Academy
Natalia stared down at the small patch of brown dirt without speaking and without crying. Her hands were caked with mud from when she had pulled out the weeds that had littered the place a few minutes before. It was an unmarked grave, but she knew precisely who it belonged to. When she was still the young mourning girl who had just lost her child, she irrationally swore to herself that one day she would return and have someone put in a tombstone. Or, better yet, she would have someone carve out an angel to watch over her child. That somehow had felt better.
Her baby had laid six feet under her shoes for exactly five years now, but she would have sworn it was a hundred. She had lived so many different lives and had been so many different people that it might as well have been. She was Natalia Romanova, certainly, but she was also Tatiana Sokolova, Irina Zlataryova, Alion Vans, Marya Vonn, and so many, many others. She carried the weight of those women's souls as well. And, God, were those souls heavy with all of the sins that they had committed.
She kept her face marbled, hard and expressionless as she had learnt to ever since she was a child. The tall mansion of the academy towered behind her, but she was glad to have her back turned against it. It gave her some sense of privacy, even amidst her rage. Natalia was not born an angry child, but they had made her one. They had made her into so much.
She looked over her shoulder at the barren land. The wind tousled along the hard earth, making her red hair flick in her bitterly stinging eyes. She had not been back to the Red Room since her graduation ceremony. Even if it happened a mere month after her child was born and had died, she was glad to have the ceremony. She was frightened to lose another child and to not even be able to have one seemed like something she shouldn't fight. It made things easier as she graduated and earned another name: Black Widow. The Black Widow had a very particular skill set: seduce, interrogate, kill, assassinate, spy. It was not simply what she could do, it was who she was. Because of this, Natalia quickly found that a woman like her was needed all over the world, especially because there was no woman like her.
She was special.
Special.
It made her want to laugh.
She cleared her throat and she criss-crossed her legs as she lounged in the mix of mud and grass. She knew she had to leave soon, but she couldn't find it within herself to do it just yet. At the grave of her child, she felt something near to peace. It felt wrong to leave her baby here, especially since she was the only person Natalia had left, even if she was dead. James was gone; dead or as good as. Whatever it was that his superiors did to him was naturally kept from her. Whenever she was on missions, she sent out feelers and asked quiet questions, but, as the years passed, it was made clear: he was a ghost. He disappeared just as quickly as he had appeared.
And, God, that made her only angrier.
Natalia knew what it was like to lose people before. Her own parents had sold her away, making her an orphan, making her a person no one would ever look for. The Red Room had taught her to become other people, even within her own mind. She imagined up the idea that she was a person who her parents truly did love. She imagined them holding her between them as they swung her playfully by her hands. She came up with the thought that it was her own father that taught her how to use a gun so she would know how to protect herself. They were pretty images and they would become things she told others so often that sometimes even she began to believe it.
As she started to stand, she pressed her fingers to her lips and then placed her kiss into the dirt. She then whirled up into a standing position and her shoulders rolled back as she walked away. Her heart ached with longing but she pushed it down until she couldn't feel anything at all.
The madame stood in the doorway of the mansion and Natalia gave her a nod of reverence. The madame had a whisper of a smile on her lips as she gave a nod back. As her handler began to inform her of her newest mission, Natalia's eyes and mind drifted. Over the madame's shoulder, she could see young girls like figurines sitting in chairs with their delicate eyes closed. Their heads were swaying slightly as their feet lifted and slid across the floor. It was nearly as if they were dancing in place. A soft symphony played in the background and Natalia's red brows furrowed. She didn't recall ever sitting in a chair and dancing as these girls did. A new technique for training perhaps? A file was placed in Natalia's hands and then she was gone.
And this would be the last time Natalia Alianovna Romanova ever saw the Red Room Academy.
The mission was in Budapest.
Her targets were a man and his daughter staying at a hotel in the city for a business trip. From what Natalia had seen in the pictures, they did not look like much and, if anything, were rather tragic. The man was young and orphaned while all the girl had was her father. Despite their appearances, the man was reportedly destined for greatness. Their family had changed the world for decades thus far. The girl was more of a casualty than anything, but no one knew what the child was capable of and they thought it would was better this way.
The man and his daughter had no ties to the KGB which meant that they, at least, were not traitors, but Natalia's handler still decided that they would be much less of a threat if they were dead. Even if they had been traitors, they wouldn't have been in Natalia's mind. But, then again, they weren't innocents to her either. There were no sides in Natalia's mind. There wasn't a line, right or wrong, a black or white side. She soon found that she didn't mind who she maimed, tortured, or killed and that meant she was on her own side.
She had tailed the little family for two days before she had precisely understood their routine minute-by-minute, knew their future week's schedule, and understood exactly who they were. She learnt the man and girl were guarded by a stocky man who could make a decent haymaker, but he was also an egg that Natalia would have no trouble in cracking. When it came to observations about the family themselves, Natalia observed that the little girl had anxiety problems, the man had a habit for flirting with pretty women, and yet the two members of the broken family were tightly bound. It made the plan a lot simpler than Natalia would have expected.
It was on the second day at midnight that she first tried to kill the father and daughter.
Her arms and legs pulled her easily up the fire escape, flipping and sliding through the steps and rungs that blocked her path. When she reached the suite's window, it took her exactly two seconds to pick what would be a complicated lock for anyone else. Her fingers curled around the sill, she curved her body into the room, and her black-booted feet were perfectly silent as she landed. The suite was lavish and all was still but the assassin inching in.
She slid across the carpet and ducked out of the way of the security camera. She pushed her back up against the wall and she stretched her black-gloved hand towards the door handle. The door only softly clicked as she pushed it open and stepped inside the little girl's bedroom. It was best to take the child out first. If she was dead, then the man would have less to potentially fight for. She didn't feel guilt or worry or even hesitation as she snapped a thin, metal wire out of her sleeve. Natalia Romanova had the reputation she did for a reason. And yet, when her green eyes lifted, she stopped.
The little dark haired girl was being cradled lovingly within the arms of the man. Natalia took in a silent, quick breath as her head tilted to the side slightly. Her mind flashed back to something she spent these years in events like the Children's War and in Rusaka trying to forget.
It had been a painful birth, but she let no scream escape her lips. She had this beautiful notion in her head that the first thing her child would hear would not be her mother's screams. She wanted her child to know nothing of the pain that she inflicted. It was worthwhile. Sweat poured down her forehead and dripped through her red hair, and he kept a stoic expression and a tight jaw as her child was brought into the world.
Her child had been a girl.
Natalia had never spent overly much time considering whether she had wanted a boy or a girl. She had reasonably been more focused on actually keeping her and the child alive. Yet the part of her that always took over as she laid sleeplessly at night had hoped for a boy. If she were to escape, she determined that being a mother to a boy would be better, more efficient. After all, what did she know of little girls? Little girls were intended to be precious, soft, and delicate. Natalia was precisely none of those things and, as much as she hated to admit it, even to herself, she feared having a daughter.
It didn't matter though.
She didn't have either.
After all, her child was dead before she even made it to her mother's arms.
She remembered how her arms were left suspended in midair, simply waiting to cradle the baby created of her and the Winter Soldier. She remembered the impatience she felt bubble in her chest and she remembered the taste of bitterness sting her tongue as she thought of how her soldier would not be there to see his child born. The doctor handled the baby with such lack of care, grabbing the precious, soft, and delicate girl by the back of the neck as he checked for a pulse. Natalia could still feel it in her chest; the impact, the impression, the blow of the madame's words.
"Slabaya malen'kaya veshch' mertva. Otbros'te yego." The weak little thing is dead. Toss it away.
Natalia's lips had parted and trembled ever so slightly. A small, wavering breath was taken in, but it didn't quench the burning, suffocating sensation she felt within her. As her red hair still clung to her sweat-riddled face, her head shook and she gritted her teeth into an agonized cringe. Her head was pounding and pain crawled throughout her body until it reached her heart.
The doctor nodded in response to the madame's demand before he turned sharply and carried the little being towards the bin by the door.
"Otday yeye mne!" Give her to me!
Her voice broke out from somewhere deep within her and it made everyone in the room look at her with wide, nearly frightened eyes.
"Otday yeye mne!" she angrily repeated, "Teper'!" Give her to me! Now!
"Natalia," the madame attempted to convince her with her soft and ever so controlling voice, but something within the young woman had snapped.
She hissed through clenched teeth, glaring deep into the blonde woman's lfieless eyes, "Moy rebenok ili tvoya zhizn'. Tvoy vybor." My child or your life. You choose.
It was rage that Natalia saw within her owner's eyes, but she didn't break her strong gaze. There was a long moment of terse silence as they glared at one another, and then, finally, the madame conceded. Her chin moved in the direction of the doctor as she stiffly nodded permission. The doctor carelessly dropped the infant into the mother's arms and stepped back towards the door.
She knew that they were all watching her, but she was too broken to care. She took in a shaky breath as she cradled the lifeless being in her arms. The baby's arms and legs hung uselessly around her and her mother fought an aching sob. Her long finger gently traced her daughter's features and she softly brushed back the tuft of red hair clinging to the baby's head.
She was beautiful.
And they took her away.
They always took her away.
She wished she could have screamed and demanded for them to let her hold her longer, but what good would have it done? The child was still dead and Natalia was still alone. Her arms fell numbly on either side of her onto the table, making a quiet thud as they did. Natalia took in a sharp breath as her face crumpled. Tears ravaged at her eyes as she laid perfectly still against the metal table. She allowed for one solitary tear to burn down her still young face and she swallowed harshly. Her reddening blue eyes stared blankly up at the ceiling as if all of the life had been sucked out of her.
And, oh God, it had.
How could she have missed this? How could she have not known that he was going to be in here?! She had worked out every detail perfectly and she had studied them endlessly. She knew that the man cared for the daughter, but to be so tightly attached... The man was an infuriating conundrum and she hated him for it. She couldn't ever remember feeling hatred towards any of her targets before, but this time she did. Of course, she could still kill them both, but it would just be slightly more of a mess when it was all at once.
But she didn't wish to make a mess. It was the first time Natalia had found someone besides her own child who was innocent. The little dark haired girl's voice sounded scared as she mumbled and the father softly mumbled back, but they were both still so soundly asleep that neither could sense the assassin's presence. It would not be hard. She had done so much worse after all.
She could do it.
Her boot took another step closer and then she realized one terrifying thing.
She couldn't do it.
No, she couldn't wrap a metal wire around the innocent child's neck and pull and pull until her skin was so severely torn into that she either bled out or suffocated. It was always interesting to see which happened first.
But she couldn't do it.
She couldn't seem to force herself into killing the girl known as Lisa Stark.
And so she left the building the same way that she had come, promising, swearing that she would return the next night to finish the job. She loathed herself and her weakness that night as she sat in the darkness, still wearing her uniform and twisting the wire around and around. She wouldn't allow it to happen a second time.
"Ona mertva," Natalia spoke into the darkness with a glare scalded onto her face. She's dead.
She had to remember. Her daughter couldn't make a difference. This was why the pupils of the Red Room were not intended to have children; this was why they had a Graduation Ceremony. It was necessary. Children were a weakness. Love was a weakness. Love was for children, just as the madame had said. She had to remember.
And she did remember.
She remembered how she felt when she was around James. She remembered his ocean eyes and his broken soul. She remembered how he had made her laugh when she thought she never would again and she remembered how she had done the same for him. They had somehow managed to heal each other, loving despite the scars and sins that tattooed them both. She remembered how she did not feel angry when she discovered she was pregnant with his child. She was, if it was possible, glad. She loved them. Oh, did the queen love the king and their daughter.
"Oni mertvy!" she screamed, hurling anything and everything around her against the walls of her safe house. They're dead!
She was somehow standing now and she had her hands curled into fists so tight that her knuckles had bleached white. A twisted smirk slipped onto her lips and she felt sickeningly invigorated. She was the Black Widow and she had made a name for herself. She was dutiful and she was proud. She would complete her mission. She would not fail.
She spent the next day watching her targets, forcing herself into despising them. She was sickened by how the man, Tony, made his ten year old waffles and playfully covered her with whipped cream. She scoffed at how the child, Lisa, held his hand and followed him around all throughout his board meetings. She scowled at the way they cheerfully walked together through art galleries as their stocky bodyguard followed behind. What she hated most was how Tony carried Lisa to their hotel that night as her head rested drowsily on his shoulder. And so, when it was time, she found no hesitation within herself.
She had the full intention of murdering Tony and Lisa Stark that night in Budapest.
And she would have.
If she hadn't been stopped.
She had wondered if she had been followed, but each time she followed her routine of checking, she discovered no one. So she put her worries to rest and focused on the mission at hand. She was just pulling herself up onto the fire escape when two thick arms were being wrapped around her waist. In a flash, she had curled her legs back around the person holding her and forcefully swung them forward into the cement wall. The man collided with the wall and swiftly turned around only to raise what appeared to be a bow to block her next attack. They met eyes for just a moment as confusion took over her.
What was this man doing with a bow in his hands and a quiver of arrows on his back?
Could this be some kind of joke?
The man suddenly was punching her twice in the chin and she stumbled back before she sent a swift kick into his side. He barely grunted as she swung around and landed a roundhouse kick upon his cheekbone. He snatched onto her ankle and hurriedly rushed her back into the alley wall behind her. Her spine slammed hard before she lifted her other leg, using the wall as balance, and curled it around his neck. He bought up his arm to try to stop her ever tightening grip around his throat.
What the man did next surprised her, and that in of itself surprised her.
He backpedalled and began to spin around until Natalia's head grew dizzy. Then he quickly dropped, slamming her spine once more into something hard. She slid her feet along the ground until she was crouched before him. She snapped out her batons and smirked. She would hit and he would block. The electricity would zap, but he remained unharmed. The dance continued, but she could tell that whoever this man was, he was not giving their fight his all.
And that made her angry.
She swiftly elbowed the man in the face before she wrapped her arm around the back of his neck and rolling her body up and over his shoulder. She landed on the ground behind him before he could even realize it. She stabbed her baton into his side and she watched as the electricity coursed through his back until he fell. She dropped on top of him, swiftly wrapping the wire around his throat and preparing to yank at both ends.
"Don't," he choked out, "YA ne ubil tebya, kogda u menya byla takaya vozmozhnost', ne tak li?" I didn't kill you when I had the chance, did I?
Natalia wasn't certain why she paused, but she did all the same, "Vy ne mogli ubit' menya, yesli popytayetes', Strela Chelovek." You could not kill me if you tried, Arrow Man.
He choked out a laugh as a stream of blood slid out from underneath her wire and down his neck, "Vozmozhno Vy pravy." You're probably right.
She mockingly hummed in agreement before she began to tug tighter.
"Stop, stop, hold on," he gasped, "Make a different call. I did. You could too."
She was taken aback. Her mouth opened to question what he meant when suddenly a searing pain was cutting across her side and she hissed. Blood spurted out of her now torn uniform as more bullets pinged onto the ground and walls all around them. The man's eyes narrowed as he began to tug at the wire clasped around his throat. The world around them was screaming with gunfire as she rolled off of him and behind a nearby garbage can, pulling a glock out of her thigh holster. Bullets continued flying as the man dragged himself behind a shelter of his own.
As she returned fire, she yelled over to the man, speaking English as that was what seemed best for him, "Friends of yours?!"
"You're not the only one after the Starks!" he yelled back as he began to shoot his arrows at them.
She knew they were likely mercenaries, but certainly no match of her nor to the man, it would seem. They stood behind their shelters with their weapons raised, rising up to return fire when they could. The gunfight continued as the mercenaries creeped closer and sirens screamed in the distance. She was nearly out of ammunition and the man appeared to be out of arrows. They exchanged a look and they both immediately knew what the other had planned. It was as if their minds had connected and they could see what was happening in each other's.
She suddenly stood up, kicked off of the alley wall, twisted around the upcoming mercenaries, and reached the back of the lineup. She began to take them down, one-by-one as the man took out those in the front. They worked as partners, helping each other when help was needed and making sure to watch each other's backs. Natalia had never truly done that with ro for anyone before, besides James. It was an odd feeling to be working with someone; she found herself nearly relieved at having the support. But that didn't change who she was. Even when they were all dead, Natalia's guard wasn't let down. The man and Natalia glanced at each other just once before they both immediately raised a gun to the other's forehead.
"Drop it," she demanded.
"You first."
Her eyes narrowed and her jaw tightened as she began to think of all of the possible ways she could incapacitate him. He was still badly injured after all. It wouldn't be hard and she still had a mission to complete.
"I was sent her to take you out, Miss Romanova,"
It wasn't his admission that made her blood go cold; it was that he knew her name.
"I don't want to," he continued.
"And why not?" she spoke through gritted teeth, glancing up at the suite where her targets were likely escaping from.
"Because I believe you could be better used elsewhere," he told her seriously, "How would you like to protect instead of kill?"
She stepped closer, pressing her barrel into his skin, "And what makes you think I do not like to kill?"
His eyes were full of sadness as he spoke, "Because you're human."
Human.
That was something that Natalia had never considered or even believed. She was human. She did not feel human. She felt like a marble statue with glittering, sharp glass stabbed into her beauty. She was beautiful and she was dangerous. She was not human. There was too much blood on her hands for that, all of the woman she had become did.
Her child came to mind as she absorbed his words. Her child deserved better. Her child deserved more. She hadn't wanted her child to hear her screams when she was born, but she most certainly wouldn't have wanted her child to hear her make others scream. She wanted to protect people, just as she should have protected James and how she should have protected their baby.
But she couldn't because they were gone and she was alone.
Natalia Romanova slowly lowered the gun and stiffly nodded at the man.
He gave a small smirk, "Well, Miss Romanova, welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D."
That's Chapter Ten for you, Folks! Whaddya think? Not my favorite personally, but I still like how it turned out. And how the Budapest mission being her sent to take out our two favorite Starks, huh (Iron Daughter Series tie-in! yay! Expect to see more of Lisa real soon!). Okie-dokie, bye! See ya next time, but, for right now, I'm going to sleep...
Funny Thingamabob first:
This is just messed up, okay.