Her Eyes Spoke
Wars usually change things for the worse. Lovers are parted, families are broken, homes are destroyed. Kings and governments grow fat on a feast of death served from the backs of the common man at the hands of the common soldier. Thousands of innocents lost everything they had and more, and yet it was the only thing Yakov ever wanted. The other men in his unit were anxious, terrified even, when the Cossacks were given orders to fight the Germans on the eastern front. The world was at war for the first time in history, and he couldn’t wait to be a part of it. Natalia disapproved, of course. He was older than her, but she still called him a stupid child. They aren’t sending young men to fight for motherland, they’re sending them to die for her she warned. As Czarina Alexandra’s personal attendant in the Imperial Guard, she was too close to politics to have even the faintest hint of the idealistic and battle-thirsty nationalism that coursed through his blood. For all her scolding, Yakov was a little hurt that she didn’t cry when his unit shipped out of Petrograd to go east. It was the September of 1914. He asked her to write to him, but she insisted he would be dead before any of her letter would ever reach his camp.
He should have known that Natalia was right. Not two months into the fighting, half his unit was taken prisoner by the Germans after a messy battle in Poland. It was two years before an American captain named Steven Rogers and his platoon liberated the camp. He was an odd man, more peacemaker than soldier. He was more concerned with care of the newly freed prisoners than executing the guards. Yakov was intrigued, engaged even. When his cellblock was opened, Captain Rogers quickly reciprocated the interest when he learned that Yakov spoke almost perfect English. He learned that the American was the leader of an international force with no purpose other than liberation POV camps on both fronts of the war. Six months turned Captain Rogers into Steve and Yakov Baranovich into Bucky, and another four months and a few shattered arm bones before he finally decided it was time to go home whether the war was over or not. He was a little hurt that Natalia didn’t cry when he came back.
Petrograd- February 23rd, 1917
“Wake up. You’re lazy ass is late,” Natalia stated as she flung open the curtains to flood her bedroom with sunlight.
Bucky groaned and pulled the blanket over his head in a child-like attempt to block out the painful light, only to feel her yank it away completely, leaving his bare skin exposed to the bitter cold. Natalia looked all too amused, already clothed in her heavy winter uniform. Though he gave her an annoyed scowl, it wasn’t until he started shivering that she finally smirked and threw the blanket back.
“And what am I late for, empress?” he grumbled once he had finally rewrapped himself.
“Work. Some connections of mine in the 1st Guards Cavalry Division 3rd Cossack Brigade are short on men and need the extra hands. The Czar has been insisting on keeping the Life-Guard fully armed; something about unrest over the war…” she trailed off at the last bit, and Bucky saw her eyes drift only for a moment to his nearly useless left arm (granted, not too useless to hold a rifle), and though she was sensitive enough not to stare, he could still feel her indignation and anger.
“I got home last night and you already expect me to work today?” he complained when she tossed his boots and coat on the foot of the bed.
She flashed him a mischievous grin and bent down to run her gloved hand along the curve of his cheek.
“I expect you to stay sharp. You’re no use to me as a sparring partner or a bed partner if you get out of practice.”
He smiled back, but when he leaned in for a kiss she put two fingers between their lips just enough to keep them from touching. Ah, ah, ah, her sparkling eyes scolded, not needing words. Be patient, my love. Not everything at once. Natalia’s talkative eyes was one of the images Bucky had clung to in the prison; the way they spoke more often than her voice and with an enchanting elegance that could almost make one forget she was capable of killing a man with her bare hands. But though her eyes scolded, her lips teased and all he wanted was to pull her back onto the bed and relive the night before for the rest of their lives. He almost did, but she stood back up and wrapped her scarf up around her neck.
“Put your clothes on and report for duty, Cossack. The Czar doesn’t pay you to sleep all day,” she ordered with a sardonic flourish before striding out of the room for her own job.
Bucky sighed. She was disappointed, he could tell. Happy he was home, but disappointed. In him, in the Czar, in the war, in the world, maybe, it was hard to say exactly, but she was acting to be in too good a mood for her to be anything but perturbed. Best not to make that any worse. Despite the aching in his chest and arm, he slowly got dressed and made his way to the other Cossacks assembled in front of the Imperial Palace. Along the way, he couldn’t help but notice that even though the streets were emptier than usual, they were somehow also more bustling, as if those few who were still alive in the midst of the war were scurrying to get something done. He was relieved to find a few familiar faces among the men in the 3rd Brigade, some from training and a couple from the infantry on the eastern front. The commander looked vaguely familiar, but Bucky had no name to put to a face.
“Romanova told us you would be join us late,” the commander stated, but not unkindly, as he inspected Bucky from head to foot. “I was shocked when she said you had made it back at all. Not many men are lucky enough to come home before a war is over.”
“Luckier than most, at least,” he agreed, trying not to think of how much movement he had lost in his arm.
It did not take long for him to notice the rest of the men beginning to fidget more than before.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“Protests, I heard,” a young soldier answered. “They’re starting on the edges of the city.”
“Our orders are to stay here and defend the palace,” the commander elaborated, and Bucky felt a pit form in his stomach.
When the night shift came to relieve them, he was saddened but not surprised that he went back to Natalia’s apartments to find them empty. The bed was cold, and he had to bite back a scream at smelling her on the pillow but being alone.
February 27th
A familiar fear took hold of Bucky’s mind and clutched his lungs with an iron grip as he stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the other armed Cossacks while the mob drew closer to the palace gates. The angry screams and howls of suffering were deafening on the thin dawn air, not unlike the battle cries of wounded soldier who forced themselves to fight on. He and the other soldiers looked to the commander atop his horse, but the man was only staring at a piece of paper in his hands while his lips pursed tightly together. Bucky’s finger was instinctually rested on the trigger of rifle, even though he was not eager to fire on the approaching citizens. Fast approaching citizens.
“What do we do?” one of the foot soldiers finally asked. He was no more than a boy, knees visibly shaking even under his heavy overcoat.
The commander took in a sharp breath.
“Men, I am not going to lie,” he announced in a booming voice. “We have order from the Czar to suppress these riots by force.”
His long pause made Bucky hold his breath.
“But we also have orders from God to protect the dignity of the motherland’s people. The Czar has done nothing but send her sons to be slaughtered by Germans and let her daughters starve in the streets! Gentleman, revolution is upon us, and we will not stand here in idleness as our brothers and sisters give their very lives for the betterment of Russia. I ask you now to stand and fight for the glory of our country and all her people!”
While the other men cheered in agreement, shouted affirmations like ‘kill the Czar!’ and ‘storm the palace!’ Bucky’s fear turned to anxiety. A force as strong as theirs matched with the sheer numbers of the oncoming masses would make it into the palace before nightfall. Yes, people were starving. Yes, he had suffered for two years in a Polish prison camp for the Czar’s war, but the ideals of liberty and equality were snuffed by thoughts of Natalia. A mob this broken and bloodthirsty would not stop to interrogate each member of the Imperial Guard as to the potential of their true allegiance. If they breached the palace walls, she would be shot on sight.
Slinging his rifle over his shoulder, Bucky quickly turned and sprinted along the gate toward the back of the palace, not caring as his fellow soldiers hurled insults at him and called him a coward and a traitor to the people. Maybe under different circumstances he would have stayed; been so bitter for his childish rush to be a pawn manipulated in the Czar’s games, but he lost Natalia once for idealism, and refused to do some again.
Thankfully Bucky could the guards at the less heavily guarded back gate by their colors to also be part of the Czarina’s Life Guard regiment. Though they pointed their rifles at him, he held his hands up in surrender.
“Please, you have to get me to Romanova,” he begged, out of breath from his run. “The front gates won’t hold for long. The royal family needs to be smuggled out now or the mobs will kill them all and everyone in their way.”
“I know where Romanova is,” one of the older guards spoke up. “Hand over your weapon and I can take you.”
Bucky did so gladly and followed the guardsman up the frosted pavement to an entrance through the frozen garden and up a back staircase that opened up into a small room that looked as if it was hidden within the walls, being bare of any paint or furniture other than a small table. Natalia and a few other members of the Imperial Guard were huddled around it, talking in hushed voices. The guardsman who led him there cleared his throat, causing the others to look their way. Natalia’s eyes went wide with shock.
“What are you doing here?!” she hissed, grabbing Bucky by his good arm and pulling him over to a corner away from the others. “You’re supposed to be holding the front gates.”
“The men turned and joined the riots,” he explained.
“Christ,” Natalia groaned and rubbed her temples. Bucky took her hand in his.
“If we don’t leave now, they’ll kill you with the royal family,” he said just above a whisper. “Let’s just run. You’ve given everything for the Czar, you don’t need to give him your life.”
She stared back at him with her jaw slack and eyes harsh, half in surprise and half in anger. He didn’t regret saying it, but now he understood her disappointment. She was disappointed that her state had failed, disappointed that she had not done enough to protect it, and disappointed in him for changing during the war. I wouldn’t have cared her eyes said. I wouldn’t have cared if you defended the Czar to your last breath or put the bullet in his brain yourself, as long as you had fought for something. Now you want to run.I fell in love with a soldier. He was stupid and naïve, but I loved him. You aren’t a soldier anymore, and now he could feel the full weight of her dissatisfaction. But instead of saying it out loud, she simply planted a soft and almost remorseful kiss on the corner of his lips.
“You gave everything, and you suffered,” she murmured as if her eyes had not just torn him apart. “Run. Go find the Captain America who saved you. Start a new life. But I have more to give.”
She had not cried when he left for war convinced he would die. She had not cried when he came home against all odds. Yet a single tear rolled over the crest of her cheek. It was at that moment that it was the tear of someone who did not have enough left to weep. Had they never been there to begin with or frozen up inside, he wondered.
“I don’t want to leave you,” he finally answered. “I won’t let them kill you to get to the Czar.”
Despite the shimmer of liquid that still sparkled on her skin, Natalia laughed.
“Go. Start a new life and I will find you one day.”
He opened his mouth to object, but she put a finger to his lips the same as she did on the last sunrise they spent together. She leaned in so that her breath was hot on his ear and he could not hear what her eyes were trying to say
“I promise I will find you one day, but today, I am go to kill the Czar.”