Hello, this is TheRussianPrincess here! This is my very first fanfiction that I have ever posted. I hope you like. The first two chapters are introducing my OCs.
General Info: I do not own any of this, the charaters, the plot, the words, etc.
Warning: There is mention of Boy on Boy here, mind you there is a reason for the rating, if you don't listen to it, then you really need to pay more attention. There will be some sex later on in the chapters, currently unknown as to what kind. I will keep you posted.
Anyways, on with the show, first up Anastasia aka the Blind Arrow.
Chapter One: Anastasia
It all started seventeen years back. That fated meeting between a spy and a marksman. Even though the marksman claimed to hate the spy, that night they came together. That night a miracle happen.
Seventeen Years Ago
Avenger's Mansion
Hawkeye paced, waiting for the mission that would give him what he had waited for, a shot at taking down the traitor. Captain America walked over to him, looking tired and worn but happy and content. Parenthood suited the Captain.
"How's Alexandria doing?" He questioned, wanting to have the pleasantries out of the way before his mission started.
"She is doing well, sleeping in Tony's arms." Steve smiled, it made him look less worn down. "You ready for it, Clint?"
Hawkeye nodded. "You know how long I have waited for this."
"Yeah, but I wish I could go with you, or send someone with you for that matter." Captain said sorrowfully. It really did pain him to have his team, his family stretched so thin at the moment, but God forbid tell anyone of them not have to children. It made Hawkeye smile, who knew the Avengers could breed like rabbits.
"I know, Captain, but you need to stay here and protect you family. Let me deal with the treats outside the city limits for a while." He rested a hand on Steve's shoulder. "Go and rest with your loved ones."
Steve nodded. "Good luck." Was all that was said before Captain America went back to his husband and year old daughter.
Somewhere between the boarders of Finland and Russia
Clint made good time reaching the boarder, soon he would be face to face with the woman who had betrayed his trust, soon he would have his revenge. The trip took him four day to find the warehouse she was rumored to be staying in. Light poured out of the widows illuminating the darkness. He crept towards the building, bow strung and ready, yet he met no opposition. There was not a single person guarding the entrance or the either structure. He frowned at this, either she had grown cocky because this was her homeland, or she was waiting for him.
He took a chance and entered through a side door. It was warming lit and warm inside, such a contrast to outside that Hawkeye stood there for a moment allowing his senses to adjust.
Clint saw the outline of a shadow, not far from his position, he crept forward. No sound emanated from him as he stealthy approached. Sneaking a glance from behind some crates, he came face to face with the red head he had been hunting for so long.
"Hello, Hawkeye. Did you have pleasant trip?" Her voice was still pleasant to listen too, but it had a false sweetness to it.
Still he gave a tight grin and played along, it was saver in the long run that much he knew. "It was nice, a bit cold, but then again that is what I get for traveling in snow. How have you been, Widow?"
Black Widow just smiled and walked back to the table that was placed in the center of the room. "Come." Her called like a siren. "Join me."
He walked toward her with caution. She excelled at drawing people into her web, he had been caught once and he was determined not to be caught again.
The table he noted had two place settings and food, not just any food some of his favorite Russian dishes: pirozhki and kholodets.
"Widow, what is this?" He tried to stay angry at her, but worry set in. She had never acted like this before, it was odder then when he found out she was a traitor.
"Dinner." She turned to him, a sad smile on her face. "Even though we are enemies, would you humor me tonight?" He had never seen her look so sad, so broken. He knew the rigors of her training was hard on her body and mind, but she wouldn't allow herself to be seen a weak, except when she was with him. That thought made him flinch. How long had she been without someone to let her guard down to? How long had she been fighting the sleepless nights and the pain her memories brought her.
"Answer me this first, Natalia." She looked at him with those far away blue eyes and he gave in. Clint wrapped her in his arms, fighting back all the years of hate and deception between the two. "You planned this, you planned for it to be just me."
"That's not a question." She mused. "But I did, I knew you would come for me." She nestled closer. "You always come for me."
He kissed the top of her head. Had it really been five years? Five years of despising the woman that held his heart. If only things were different, then she would never be alone, he could have protected her from this. "Let's eat, and you can tell me about the ballet." He whispered to her hair, before pulling back from her. He eased out a chair and offered it to her, which caused her to let out a small bubble of laughter.
"Always the gentleman, arn't you Clint?" She teased as she sat down.
He quirked a smile. "It is the least I can do after you cooked this."
Dinner was a pleasant affair, the food was good and just being able to talk to his partner like old times was even better. Slowly it was washing away the guilt, the hurt and the rage. Hawkeye knew that when they left this warehouse they would start their fight again, but for now he didn't want to go back out to the cold.
"When was the last time you slept?" His question popped out before he could stop it. He prayed he had not crossed a boundary.
She was silent for a moment before stating in a small voice. "Too long." Her eye were down-cast. "The nightmares are becoming worst," Her blue eyes met his, "But I do not wish to dwell on these things tonight."
Clint shook his head. "No, Tasha, you need to sleep." He stood, holding out his hand to her. "Come one, let's go to bed."
Twelve Years Ago
Somewhere in Russia
A young girl clutched the hand of her mother. "Do I have to go, Mother?" The child's thick Russian accent made her mother smile.
"Yes, my little one." Her mother knelt down to gaze into her daughter's startling blue eyes. "I have a job I must do, and for now you must stay here and learn." It pained her to leave her child in the hell hole that taught her, but it was better then watching her daughter die because she was ill prepared for the life ahead of her. "I was no older than you when I went through this school. It gave me many skills for later in life."
The little girl hugged her mother. "I understand, Mother." She drew back. "Promise me, you will come back and teach me more ballet?"
The woman laughed. "Naturally, Anastasia. Now go." She shooed her little baby toward her new home, a home that would soon become a prison. Natasha Romanova stood, waving to Anastasia, once her daughter was out of sight she whispered to the wind. "Endure for five years, my brave child. I will come back for you."
Seven Years Ago
Moscow, Russia
A young beauty with hair as red as fire and eyes as blue as the sky, danced gracefully in the snow. The citizens had become enthralled with this dancer ever since she had appeared a few months ago. She moved with such grace, such power that it brought tears to the toughest of critics. Yet not a single person who had seen her dance knew her name.
She only danced when it snowed, as if she was trying to court each snowflake the fell. The people began to call her a princess, their princess. Little did they know that for every dance the girl performed for them meant hours of rigorous training and torture for her.
The girl had finished her dance and disappeared into the flurry of snow. "Where were you, girl?" The old hag that had been her teacher glared down at her.
"Dancing." She didn't even bother to hide that fact. Dancing had brought the ten year old more joy then even the hope of seeing her mother again. She had, what the Red Room Academy liked to call 'too much spirit'. They could not break her, or brainwash her for that matter. Anastasia had too much blind faith and hope to foolishly fall into their traps.
"Well, as much as I would love to beat you. I'm afraid today is the day I let you go." The woman left her alone and confused.
Go? Go where? Clapping broke her line of though. A figure strode into the light of her cell. Before her stood a woman with auburn hair and blue eyes. "Did you know you have a name for yourself already, child?"
That voice was so familiar to her, yet try as she might she could not remember who's voice it was. The lady kept talking. "They call you a princess. I think that is a suiting name. After all I did name you Anastasia." She smiled at the girl, watching everything click into place.
"Mother?" Her voice was in a horse whisper, disbelief clear in her voice.
"I told you I would come back." Natasha said, throwing her head back to laugh.
Her daughter lit up and hugged her tightly. "Does this mean we can leave?"
Still laughing she answered. "Yes, but first I do believe we need to establish this name of yours to more higher ranking people."
There was a gleam of mischief in both mother's and daughter's eyes.
Four years ago
Somewhere in the Ural Mountains, Russia
"Thank you, child." An old gypsy woman said, brushing the snow off her skirts.
"It was nothing." The girl's voice held little emotion as she scanned the area for any more threats. Turning back to the woman the girl smiled. "The threat has passed. You are safe."
"Such a kind child you are, helping out an old woman like me." She sat down on a stump and gestured for the girl to come closer. "Now tell me your name, so I can repay you."
"There is no need for that."
She waved her hand. "Child, do not do me this dishonor. It is against my ways to leave a debt unpaid. Now your name."
"Anastasia." The girl looked down, almost ashamed that she had spoken such a thing out loud.
"What a strong name you have. Russia truly has a treasure in you, Anastasia." The gypsy started chanting and placed her hands over Anastasia's eyes. When she was finished she smiled. "I have give you a simple gift. It will allow you to see beyond your sight." She pulled out a red silk band. "Just tie this over your eyes and you will see more then you ever had before. Whatever is evil in that sight you will be clear and whatever is pure will be shown."
Mist rose around them as the night dragged on, come morning Anastasia found that she was alone, no trace of the gypsy to be found save for band, and a giver of arrows.
One year ago
Russian Embassy, New York, USA
The ball was nothing sort of lovely, but dull. Things were so dead here, people coming to talk to the famed Russian Princess, to compliment her on various things, but none wished to just talk to her. It drove her mad. The ambassador smiled, as he and his wife came up beside her.
"Lovely party don't you think, Princess?" His wife was nice, Anastasia supposed.
"Yes, but please, you do not have to be so formal with me." She said this every time, but it never changed. She wondered if it ever would.
"Nonsense, you are Russia's Princess, to call you anything less would be scandalous." She was so dramatic at times. Still Anastasia smiled, and bowed her head at the wisdom of those older then her. This masquerade did help keep most of the suitors away, they weren't sure which red head was the famed Princess.
A blond haired man bowed before her and offered his hand to her. "Would the lady care to dance?" He voice was soft and alluring.
She arched an eyebrow behind the elegant mask. "Would your date be jealous of you dancing with another woman?" She quipped. The ambassador smiled ruefully at her, it was always the same, any young man come to ask for a dance she would bait and trick with her words, yet should would dance with any ambassador, prince, or diligent till her feet would bleed all for the sake of her country.
"I do not see how that could come to be, since I did not come here with a date." A smile tugged on his lips. Did this male think he had gotten the better of her?
"Why, then would you come to me for a dance?"
"I have found you are the fairest here. You are posed and elegant, even when you are trying to hide." He moved closer to her, a playful shine in his blue eyes. The golden mask that hid most of his face accented his tanned skin, and his tux fitted him nicely. "And I come in the name of friendship, rather than courtship. You might find that if you dance with me, all the other will go find someone else to hound."
The ambassador's wife piped up before Anastasia could reply. "Go and dance, my dear." She smiled encouragingly. "I haven't seen you dance in a while."
She sighed, placing her hand delicately in his. As she led her to the dance floor she asked one question. "What is your name, oh savior of mine?"
He smiled. "Daniel Rand."
