Truth
Clint and Bucky look at each other like they aren't quite following what she said.
James is the first to speak. "Natasha, you need to think on this. It's not something you can just agree to like it's nothing. This will change your whole life."
Natasha shakes her head, answering him. "I know exactly what this does to my life. It's not like I can be bound any tighter than I already am." Natasha looks steadily at her master. "He already owns me; there will be no change. Slave, wife, what's the difference? In the long run, I have no control over my life. With this, at least there is the promise of getting away at some point."
The men look uncomfortable. "Unless," she narrows her eyes at them in suspicion, "those were just words to paint me a pretty picture and draw me in."
Barton rushed to reassure her. "No! Of course not. I would never even consider promising something I didn't fully intend to follow through with."
"Save a sham of a marriage, of course."
Natasha wasn't concerned with how unfair she was being. There was only so much she could tolerate, and being asked to help the man currently holding the key to her chains was the final straw. She kept reminding herself that if he needed her the way he professed to, she was in the clear.
If not, well... Then this is as good a way of putting an end to the whole thing as any other she can think of.
Refuse. The thought keeps popping up in her mind.
Surely she couldn't actually refuse. The moment she did so, she would right back to square one, chained up and thrown in a cell. The guards would enjoy having her back, she was certain. A feisty, little slave, their favorite plaything.
Unfortunately for them, she had learned a little something about resistance as she matured. She knew what it was that men like that enjoyed. It was all about the struggle. As the rings around her wrists and ankles leftover from her time in chains could attest, she had been a perfect participant for that when she was younger.
Now, though, she would refuse to give them the satisfaction. She has a particular talent for sussing out what each person wants most from her and either giving them exactly that, or withholding it, depending which scenario benefited her most.
They wouldn't have nearly the fun with her that they remembered. She was far past the point of begging for her freedom or for their cruel treatment to come to an end.
Barton draws back at her use of the word 'sham' as though struck by her words. They had been said with the goal of wounding in mind, and they had done exactly that. James, beside him, looks taken aback at her barb.
Good. They had to know what they were getting into by choosing her for this. She was definitely not going to make things easy for them.
After all, when had they ever made things easy for her?
The thought makes her uneasy for some reason but she refuses to examine why.
"Natasha," her master starts. "You have to understand. I will make good on all that I have promised you. The vows we exchange will be kept, insofar as they have been agreed upon behind closed doors, just as all marriages." He pauses. "It will be a true marriage. It must be. You understand that, don't you?"
Natasha blinks at him, awaiting further explanation. When none comes readily, she decides to seek clarification for herself. 'A 'true marriage?' How can it be a 'true marriage' when, surely, your plan is to have as little to do with me as possible?"
"We... will be a part of each other's lives. That much is unavoidable. We must keep up appearances as best we can." He fixes her with a serious look. "We will be forced to coexist and cooperate for the good of the estate, the title I hold as Earl, and the running of the household. You will have most say over the running of the household while I tend to keep to the estate at large, as well as anything required of an Earl." Clint was hedging around something, she could tell. His words were too light for the intensity in his face and posture: the frown, the folded arms. It's all making Natasha increasingly uneasy.
She remains silent, forcing him to continue.
"There will be plenty of crossover, particularly if there are any children produced during our union. They will, at least in name, be our children, if not in blood." He was hesitating again, restating information, trying to stall, to think of another way to say what he needs to say, or to avoid it entirely. Eventually, Natasha loses her patience.
"What is it you are trying not to say to me?" Natasha did not hold with beating around the bush. Better to have it out now, before any further plans were made. If there is a reason she should refuse, she needs to know it now. Though she could think of little that would cause her to refuse, seeing as how her refusal would surely result in her being cast out and left to fend for herself. If not that, then a cell to be certain.
"If there is something you think I will find distasteful enough to change my mind, I'd rather hear about it now, before I am too far involved to escape it later."
Barton watches her carefully for a moment, glancing around at James, who nods, and then his body faces back to Natasha even as he fixes his gaze on the floor, arms crossed over his chest again. This time in less of a closed off way and more... protective?
When he finally looks up again, there is nothing guarding his face anymore. The only thing there is an apology and a thinly veiled hope that she will not turn on him now.
"The marriage… must be binding." He says at last, just as Natasha is getting ready to lose her patience with him again.
That was not at all the kind of thing she was prepared to hear him say.
"We are in a very... unique circumstance. Our union will already be suspicious enough as it is. You will have come from nowhere, and, while we will do our best to disguise your true position here for the last decade, there are bound to be some who are not so easily misled. We can only hope that recognition comes after the deed is done."
Natasha is still stuck on 'the deed,' which her master seemed so eager to skip over. No. She's not letting that go unaddressed. "We are required to consummate the marriage. That's what you're trying to say? Because people will disapprove of your choice of bride?"
"Your union must be legally binding, beyond question. Yes." Her attention is immediately caught by James as he interjects, placing a hand on Barton's shoulder. She had momentarily forgotten his presence with all the new information now racing through her mind. Now, though, she is unable to look away.
He sees her looking and cannot meet her eye.
"Because there will be questions." It's a guess, but she knows she's right by the resigned looks on both of their faces.
"And you? How do you feel about this whole arrangement?" She demands, ignoring Barton for the moment in favor of hearing James' opinion on the whole thing. "Surely you don't agree with this."
James looks to his lover to see how he addresses the outburst.
"Actually, Natasha," Barton's voice is soft as he responds. "It was his idea."
Natasha gapes at them. James doesn't say more so she turns to Barton.
"I was planning to forgo the formalities of the whole thing: the consummation, the formal ceremony, everything. It was James that brought me to my senses. He reminded me that, as much as I would prefer to just marry and have it done with, there are certain expectations that cannot be snubbed." He cringes. "At least, not given the circumstances."
"The circumstances? You mean the fact you don't actually want a wife, but are forced to take one anyway."
Natasha hears the words leave her mouth, but she doesn't recall choosing them, much less giving herself permission to say them.
Barton studies her for a moment. When he speaks, he weighs his words carefully. "I feel no need to search any further for someone to share my life with, no. I have found the best partner for myself. It just so happens my choice is... widely frowned upon." He frowns as if in demonstration. "If that is what you mean, then yes. Certain appearances must be kept in order to avoid undue scrutiny."
She sees James squeeze Barton's shoulder where his hand still lays. James spots her watching and he tips his head in a slow nod. The motion, matched with his intense stare, she understands is him encouraging her to capitulate.
She sighs. "Fine. What does- what all does that entail." It is meant as a question, but it comes out clipped, frustration getting the better of her.
James steps forward to answer again, coming in closer to wrap an arm around Barton's shoulders, a hand gripping each of his biceps. "We happen to be in a very unique situation. As my position with Clint allows me to be a legal witness to the consummation, it will be less of a formal event. It can be much more intimate than if it were to be a fully public bedding."
He says it all very matter of factly, as if they weren't discussing Natasha having sex for the first time with a man doesn't even like while his lover watches on.
Then again, perhaps it is healthier for all involved to look at it that way.
"Fine." Natasha concedes. There is little point in fighting it. She has already agreed and she would be damned if she didn't get her freedom now that it was being dangled in front of her face like a carrot to make the horse trot.
Hopefully she gets hers at the end of the ride as well.
Her master straightens a little, like a weight had fallen from his shoulders. "Good. I am glad this hasn't complicated our arrangement." He laughs quietly to himself, reaching out to grab her hand and bring it to his mouth, bending at the waist to place a soft kiss to her knuckles. "Although, something tells me I should have known better than to doubt you."
The words, said looking up at her from his bowed position, send a chill up her spine. Flustered but determined not to show it, she questions, "Will that be all, master?"
Looking between James and the man still holding her hand, she fears she may not have hidden her reaction very well at all. Still, "Yes. For now."
He lets go of her and her arm falls to her side as he dismisses her with a nod of his head. Quickly, she makes her escape.
When she agreed to this, it hadn't seemed nearly so dangerous. Turns out, she was wrong.