nine
"a change of heart"

To say that Natasha Romanoff mistrusts Lusine Volkov would almost be an understatement.

Increasingly so the longer the agent spends trawling through security footage from before, during, and after the events of The Battle of New York. The day of many deaths. The day the Avengers saved Earth.

The day a monster had a sudden change of heart.

That monster's heart was a liar's heart. Through and through. After centuries of violence, anger and chaos, how could a heart so black suddenly see the light?

Her fingers tap away on the keyboard, searching for anything and everything that could validate the suspicions everyone else dismisses with a wave of a hand and a reminder of the second chance she'd gotten all that time ago when Clint made his call.

That was different.

She was not a goddess. She was not a child of chaos itself. She was human, able to be downed by bullets. Lusine is not. She's entirely the opposite. If she really wanted to, Natasha was sure that Lusine could wipe out the city and still have room for plenty more destruction.

Even the thought of that spurs her on, fingers darting across the keys, eyes locking onto the screen when her familiar figure glides into the shot, grinning like a maniac.

When almost every other agent has gone home, and the clock strikes two, Natasha has found all she needs.

Satisfied, every incriminating clip is saved on a drive ready to be shown to whoever she could convince to watch it, including those who Lusine has already managed to draw in with her eyes of blue and smiles of velvet.

Those silvered smiles would burn to the ground. Replaced with ash and smoke. And, when that finally clears, the true identity will be revealed.

The creature who had made her home on Earth and crawled her way into their organisation with sweet talking and a common enemy would turn tail the moment the false was burned away to reveal true colours shining blood red and stolen gold beneath.

Though a crest of dishonesty is branded into the chest, the plague would be burned away, one way or another.

Natasha slips the drive into her pocket and zips it tight. Her little secret weapon designed to destroy whatever life the extra-terrestrial woman thought she was making for herself on Earth. Not out of malicious intent, but out of good intentions to protect her home.

It was her duty.

Done for the night, she switches off the monitors she'd been using and exits the room, but when she passes by the training room, a lone figure stands, fists up, ready to strike.

She moves quick, beating the punching bag to a mess of stuffing and leather, collecting at her bare feet. Through the still silence of the night, thick as the veil between worlds, heavy breathing and fists colliding with the bag is all that rings through the dark.

For a moment, Natasha stops to watch, curious, despite being keenly aware of who she was alone with in the darkest hours, in the hours she owns.

The woman is unaware. Too focused on her training.

Sweat glistens on her skin, shining in the moonlight pouring through the floor to ceiling windows, illuminating every line of honed muscle. Though, Natasha was sure she could see vicious scars torn like rivers through a picturesque landscape along her arms: destruction carved in lines of anger along fair skin, leaving behind a rawness that could never heal.

But, as she dares to peer closer for a better look, the woman stills.

As she turns her head to stare through the dark, the scars upon her face catch the moonlight like moths to a flame and Natasha cannot ignore the creatures as they flutter and soar between them, the drive burning a hole in her thigh.

"Have a good night, Natasha," She says, shoulders still rising and falling as she catches her breath.

"Goodnight," She replies, slipping away before any misfortune could befall her in the darkest hours.

The woman watches her leave and, once she is certain her audience has dispelled, continues beating out her frustrations into the punching bag, hanging up another when the former bursts, beginning again, and again, and again until the sun rises to greet her with a beaming smile that promises a better day than the last.

-

-

Again, Lusine is already there when Olea and Florian arrive at training that day. And, again, the trainees are running back and forth, but it didn't appear they'd been running for long as all were still full of energy, barely sweating.

Today, she doesn't shout at them. Instead she stands, still and observant. As if these were candidates for her elite and they were running to impress her, not be trained by her hand. Moulded into warriors at the top of their craft. 

"Nice of you two to finally turn up," She says, smile wry on her dry mouth as if it'd been left out for days.

"You never used to be such a morning person, cousin." Olea laughs, swapping the little bag she holds into her other hand, "but, now look at you! I have a few things I need to put in order and help the doctors with, but Florian will stick around and either help or train with the agents. Stop by before you leave, please?"

Lusine nods her head. "Of course," She replies. "Besides, this evening, I'm due another healing. Just to boost the regrowth."

"I'll have everything ready, Your Majesty!" Olea quips, already bouncing out of the room, bubbling with energy for the new day.

She rolls her eyes and turns to the boy

Florian, half asleep, blinks at Lusine.

"Will you parry with someone once they've had a rest? Choose someone you think will keep you on your toes. You look like you need waking up, child," She tells him, her question dressed in the red of command.

"Sure." Is all the boy replies, desperate for distraction, still seeing the blood of his brother spluttered across her face, haunting him in his bid for a new life.

-

-

After a break and a session of parries, the trainees were drenched in sweat and ready to engage in something a lot less exhausting.

Unsurprisingly, their mentor has other plans.

They stand lined up with their backs to the broken mirror, paying false attention to the woman before them as muscles they didn't even know could hurt throb and ache beneath their uniforms.

"Now, when you're on the battle— I mean when you're in the field, you may find yourself staring an enemy in the eyes, but, rather unfortunately, may have lost your weapon, run out of bullets, etcetera." She folds her hands behind her back as she paces before them, Florian seeming to be the only one paying attention amongst the crowd with his bright eyes and flushed cheeks.

"So, what do you do?" She asks, posing a question she wasn't even sure they could be bothered to answer.

But, to her surprise, Agent Edlan seems inclined to give her an answer.

"Use your fists, or feet, I guess," He responds, as if this were the obvious answer.

"That would work if they were also unarmed. But what if they're not? What if they've got a gun? You're dead moments after they pull the trigger." Lusine unfolds her hands. "Instead, find yourself a weapon or a shield, but also a shield can work as a weapon, trust me. Find yourself anything to defend yourself."

Florian is already glancing around the room for potential weapons. She can see him doing it, blatantly, but she can't choose him, he would make it look too easy.

Besides, she isn't entirely sure he's completely stable.

Since the death of Sebastian, he hadn't been quite the same boy she'd known to run around the grounds with a sword twice the size of him, to smile even when he lost, or to engage like he used to.

These days, he always seems a little bit disjointed from the real world. As if he's somewhere else entirely. Maybe he's not alone wherever he goes to. Maybe Sebastian is there, teaching him how to hold his sword and shield at the same time or maybe just reading to his little brother, just like he always used to, even when he got older.

Lusine swallows and glances away from the corrupted boy.

"Agent Mills, would you like to show everyone how it's done?" Lusine asks, tilting her head to the side as she smiles mischievously at the disobedient agent, willing to do anything to distract herself from yet another ruined life.

"No, thank you," She replies, wishing to sink into the mirror shattered by her back, delve into the mirror world where she could swim in lakes of silver, not blood, tears and war.

Lusine's smile drops from her face.

"That was an order, Mills," She tells her firmly, voice slick with iron plating, snarling with armoured teeth. 

As a believer in an army only being as strong as its weakest, Lusine was determined to make a respectable agent out of this miserable girl. Drag her to the top and make her stay.

Meekly, Agent Mills steps out of the crowd and shuffles onto the training mats.

Out of the crowd, she looks even smaller. All skin and bone, no muscle, no meat. The clothes hung off her body, almost loose.

A fawn on ice, Mills readies herself, looking around the room almost in panic.

Lusine reminds herself to be cruel to be kind, ignoring the few mouths that drop open as she summons her staff, the blunted replica of her spear, and steps forwards.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes," The fawn squeaks out, shaking in her boots, tears already bubbling in her wide eyes, illuminated like the moon, glassy and blue.

"Well, then make your move!" Lusine barks, rattling the moon as she stumbles back a pace at the snap of wolfish jaws.

Her eyes dart around the room as she searches for something, anything, to use to defend herself as Lusine takes steady steps forwards, giving the girl plenty of time to pull herself together and fight back.

Suddenly, a bright light flickers to life in her eyes. As strikingly blue as a frosty lake in the depths of Winter, just beginning to freeze over as the icy grip begins to squeeze.

Lusine has to press her lips to confine her smile as Agent Mills, in a spark of inspiration, unbuckles the belt at her waist, which should've held a pistol, and wraps it around one of her hands, the length of it ready to clap Lusine across the jaw and send her reeling.

"No," Lusine says, "don't wrap the buckled end around your hand. That's the part that could do the most damage, if you hit successfully." She holds her advance. "Do it the other way, Mills."

"Okay," She replies, as sheepish as ever, and unwraps the belt, switches it to the other way, then regains her stance, though she still trembles.

"Now, try and hit me," Lusine commands, not leaving room for refusal.

This girl will be the example to the others. If she can strike and succeed, so can they and maybe it'll inspire them to work harder. Or so Lusine hopes.

"But, I—"

"You're not going to hurt me," Lusine cuts her off, beginning to walk toward her again in an effort to inspire more action from her, to force it from her muscles into reality. "If you can't even hit me how are you ever going to be able to hit the enemy? If you can't act in training, how can you ever hope to survive even a second in the field? You'll die. Leaving behind everyone you love. Your mother, your father, your siblings."

A step punctuates her every point and, when she's within distance, she takes a swing at the moon-eyed statue, bringing her to life as she melts from stone to flesh and jumps back, dodging the attack with the grace of a leaping deer.

Alert, Mills wets her lips and flexes her fingers around the belt. The crowd dissolves into the background as the adrenaline floods her system in a mountainous tsunami, crashing into her system to wipe away the fog and leave behind a furiously pumping heart and burning muscles, eager to be put to use.

Agent Mills lashes out with the belt and appears to catch her opponent by surprise. The belt buckle strikes Lusine's upper arm with substantial force behind it.

Both women wince.

And as one's face flushes red, mouth open in fear of wrath, and lowers her weapon, the other begins to beam with a wide smile.

"Well done, Agent Mills," She praises, signalling the end of their spar, not wishing to push the girl too far the first time. Each one of her teeth gleams under the artificial light as Mills washes with confusion. "You are all dismissed a little early today. I hope you learnt something from Agent Mills today. Be here early on Monday. I want to try something new."

The trainees file out, chattering amongst themselves. Agent Ayla Mills glances over her shoulder as she exits alongside her closest friend and, to Lusine's surprise, waves a quaint goodbye.

-

-

As Lusine, dripping sweat, unbandages her fists after a long few hours pushing her body to its limits, Natasha thunders into the room, with a grave-faced Steve and a nail-biting Olea following closely behind.

"Can I help you?" Lusine questions calmly, dropping the wrap onto the bench as she turns to face the intruders who wore their emotions raw. This isn't a gathering of friends come to gossip and chatter over a cup of tea. No, this is something else.

"Agent Volkov, I need you to come with me," Natasha demands, and, at the title, Lusine's brow quirks with amusement. "I have some videos that I would like you to view and comment on. Director Fury is waiting."

"Okay," Lusine replies, not entirely sure what a video is, though she was sure she'd heard the word before somewhere and complies to Natasha's wish, smiling a little as the surprise on her face. Had she been expecting a brawl? Perhaps that would come later anyway. "Lead the way, Agent Romanoff." She extends a hand to the doorway. "And that reminds me, actually, if you're going to use any formality at all," she takes a step forward, standing at an arm's length from the woman, "Your Highness will suffice."

An unnerving toothy smile rises onto her mouth. Insane, not meeting her irises or the crinkles of crow's feet. Natasha only looks right back into the monster's mouth, still.

A small, clammy hand clamps around her forearm, but Lusine's eyes blaze ice blue as she stares down Romanoff, daring her to make a move.

Natasha turns and begins to walk away, which the rest take as their signal to follow. The cousins walk with linked arms, Lusine with her chin up and shoulders back, not afraid of whatever the agent has in store for her to witness.

Steve strides ahead, lost in thought, face crumpled into a mixture of emotion as he wonders just how bad these clips really could be. If they were that incriminating, then Lusine would have no choice but to leave once again. S.H.I.E.D. would never let her remain on Earth if she was a major threat to the world, not that he believes for a second that she is a major threat.

The woman he'd come to know was vulnerable, broken, and healing. Not fit for taking on the world, let alone succeeding. This is all a waste of everyone's time.

However, there is still a little piece of him, a little voice of doubt in the back of his mind, that reminds him she has read all of their files. She knows everything. Every strength, every weakness, every horror that has ever befallen or been caused by one of them.

Partly because it stings like betrayal, Steve lets them all walk into the room without a word where Fury awaits to watch the footage that could send the woman away for good.

-

2710 words
13.1.19

note: i don't know whether to recast natasha because i think scarlett's look suits her, but i don't like scarlett's actions that much so idk what to do... if anyone has any fancast recommendations, let me know!