Fondness
She turns around with trepidation. The door had shut behind James with an echo, the sound ominous in the room.
At some point, Clint must have decided to approach her. She felt his presence even though he moved silently enough she hadn't heard it.
When she finally looks back, she's face to face with the man again.
She finds it alarming, but not in the same way it used to be.
He wears a smile, one he appears to be carefully forcing to stay in place. Making himself seem less threatening to her, perhaps? She can't imagine why that would be his reasoning, but that is the outcome.
After all, why would he try to seem less threatening to his future wife? Wouldn't that be counterproductive to maintaining control over her in his life?
"So, Natasha. How do you find your new room?" He gestures around, spreading his arms wide and backing away a few steps, looking around them as if he is also acquainting himself with his surroundings.
"You are too kind, My Lord." She grits the words out. They don't rankle the way they used to, even just the day before, but they still sit wrong on her tongue. "Surely this is too grand for a simple slave such as myself."
He must hear the sarcasm behind her words but he chooses to ignore it anyway. Probably for the better.
Instead, he responds with more kindness, almost… friendliness? Not before he lets out a laugh though. "My dear Natasha, I get the feeling you are anything but simple. In fact, I'd wager you are something rather special. To have captured James' attention the way you have, you must be very-" he pauses, cocking his head to the side before settling on the word, "enticing to him."
There it was again. He had done a wonderful job at making it clear she was not his choice, but rather James'. She chooses to focus on that bit of his speech rather than try to dissect the meaning behind the rest of it.
"You keep pointing that out. That James is the one who chose me." Clint stares at her, expression neutral save for his raised eyebrows, obviously a signal for her to go ahead and ask whatever question she clearly had.
"If you were displeased with his choice, could you not have just found another you felt was better suited to this life?"
It had been niggling in the back of her mind since he had first referenced her being brought in by James. It was a question she needed answered before they proceeded any further. If he had any protests to being tied to her for the rest of their lives, why was he allowing this ruse to continue?
"Ah, but you misunderstand. I have no complaints about his choice." He winked at her, then went about trying to answer her question. "Since I'm the one in need of a wife, I felt it would be… unfair to choose one for myself. There is all kinds of potential for problems to arise if I were to choose someone I had my eye on." He explained it a bit ruefully. It didn't seem like he was disappointed by the decision. More like he didn't enjoy having to think about it. Like the whole thing weighed heavily on him.
Natasha processed that for a moment. "So you allowed him to choose with the expectation of being unhappy? To ensure you wouldn't become happy with someone else?"
Truly she wasn't understanding what he was trying to communicate. All the pieces were there, but she was still missing something. The picture she needed to see in order to put it all together.
"I allowed him to choose so that there was a symmetry between us." After a pause, he continued. "This whole thing was his idea, to marry someone for show. He came to me with the concept of finding someone I could be with publically, so there would be less suspicion cast on us."
Clint scoffed softly. "As soon as I told him I would even consider it, he started hounding me with questions of who I would choose. So by the time I gave in and admitted it did seem to be the best way of going about things, I had a condition."
Natasha nods along to his explanation. She could feel understanding building in her mind, but it was still all hidden behind a closed door.
"I told him I would agree to marry someone, provided it was a woman of his choosing. That way, with any luck, we would be able to avoid any possible jealousy. True, I would spend time with whoever he chose publicly, but he wouldn't have any fear of being displaced. Choosing someone with a stronger connection to him than to me seemed to be the best compromise."
Natasha was stunned. They lapsed into silence.
As she thinks about it, it does make sense. Clint would be spending a lot of time with his new wife for a good long while, needing to keep up appearances of a happy newlywed. She could easily see his lover experiencing jealousy over something like that.
It was all very… respectful of his partner. Clint was going out of his way to ensure James felt as comfortable as possible with this arrangement that, by all accounts, he should not be a part of, thus giving him a position of almost equal standing in the whole thing.
That just left one question.
"But why me? There is no connection between James and myself. He is a servant, your servant." The most she had seen of the other man was in passing. The same as their master. "What could he possibly know of me to think I wouldn't pose a threat to your plans?"
That damned gleam was back in Clint's eyes again. "I don't think for a second he recommended you because he thought you wouldn't pose a threat."
He let the words settle for a moment.
"But then what in the world would have caused him to pick me?!" Natasha was fast growing exasperated with this conversation.
Clint, on the other hand, just kept smiling, getting wider and wider with every hint she was given.
"Suffice it to say, whatever he saw, he must have been very fond of. It was a very short list of candidates he came to me with." He started making his way over to one of the chairs in the corner of the room, gesturing to them and silently asking permission to sit in them. She nods on automatic. She feels no sense of connection with this room or it's furniture; it's not hers, why should she care where he sits?
Testing the cushion of one of the seats, he settles in like he expects to be here for a while. Raising his eyebrows expectantly, he pats the chair directly beside it.
Making her way over to him without giving it any conscious thought, she sits. Grinning, he continues their conversation right where they left off. "In fact, this whole thing may have caused a terrible turning of the tables. And not in my favor."
Giving up on riddling things out for herself for the afternoon, she questions. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"He found you this morning. And it wasn't on my orders that he did so." He leans back, an elbow resting on the arm of his chair, chin cupped in his palm so he is leaning away from Natasha, giving him more room to study her. "Since you were surprised by the room, you clearly weren't discussing what I thought you were discussing. So, tell me: what was it you were up to? I get the distinct feeling I missed out on something."
Natasha can feel her cheeks heating at the reminder. She had treated James as she would any other man getting in her way. She had preyed on the weakness that plagued most men when it came to most women: they stopped thinking with their heads.
She had completely forgotten who he was in that moment. It shouldn't have worked; he was obviously very devoted to Clint.
And yet, it had worked. She had distracted him just as she had intended, and he had reacted in just the way she had learned a man would.
How could she explain to this man, who was both her master as well as her promised husband, that she had baited his lover?
And worse, that it had worked?
The panic must have shown on her face because there was an evil grin spreading across his. "Ah ha, so there was something!"
Natasha was very uncomfortable with where the rest of this conversation was heading. "I'm not sure what you're implying, My Lord, but there was nothing untoward that passed between us, I can assure you of that."
She couldn't meet his gaze as she said it.
"Natasha, please. Clint." He sighs, changing his approach to their conversation. "I wasn't implying anything. James has my full trust. Despite what you seem to think of me, he is his own man and I encourage that as much as I can. I have no desire to hold him back from the things he desires."
"Provided the things he desires coincide with the things you do?"
There is a sound outside the door that nearly drowns out Natasha's words. The door swings open and in walks James himself, carrying Natasha's meager belongings, amounting to a single wooden chest in his arms and a travel bag hanging from his shoulder.
Natasha stands up from her seat across from Clint, intent on approaching James and relieving him of his burden. She is looking forward to putting her things away in this room, with the hope that the action of settling in will make it seem more real, more hers.
She almost missed the words when Clint spoke. "On the contrary, I believe he is better at showing me the things I desire than I am at recognizing them for myself."