Chapter 23

6 January 2018, Royal Archives and Library, Aniana, Someplace Else

"I don't understand. It is supposed to be here, Pietro."

Frowning angrily at the enormous stack of books that he had just pulled from several long rows of bookcases to check for hidden papers, Pietro growled, "Well, sis, it isn't."

"Pietro, if it isn't here, then we won't be able to do our part and the whole plan will fall apart."

"I don't know that I even believe that there is a plan, Wanda, let alone that I want to be a part of it. This whole thing is ridiculous. Multiple galaxies, I can accept, since we can see them. However, multiple universes are impossible." He kicked the bookcase and mumbled to himself so Wanda could not hear, "Али ако је истините, онда је то више застрашујуће од јебене апокалипсе."

Wanda eyed her brother's back knowingly, probably having caught a portion of his muttering, and commented sharply, "Well, I don't like the idea either, Pietro, but just because I don't like it, this doesn't make it untrue. However, I am worried because she told me that it was here, yet I cannot find it. So, now that makes me wonder if something has gone wrong with her plan."

Tossing the last two books onto the floor, Pietro asked grimly, "Why do you trust this ћелава чаробница so much anyway? If this plan is so incredibly important, then why be so secretive about it? Why not give us more information, so we can understand what is really going on?"

"No, I think that I understand her reasoning. There must be so many pieces to the plan to make it work properly, especially with all the people involved. If we only know our portion, then we cannot ruin someone else's part or decide to do something different because we think it is a better idea. We all need to do exactly what she has arranged, precisely when she has planned it, or everything will be for nothing, Pietro."

"Maybe. Whatever. I'm bored and we're not even finding anything. Listen, sis, are you hungry? Maybe I could go and find us a snack or something. What do you think?"

Wanda smiled slightly at her brother and replied softly, "You always think with your stomach, you глупан."

"Now, now, now, if you call me names, then I won't go get you any of that tasty-looking Symkarian-style štrudla that I saw earlier. Besides, wasn't it you who insisted that we only use English when together, so we are ready for this mission?"

"Yes, and it is a sensible plan, since your English is much better than mine. I need the practice if we are going to work with the others, since I doubt anyone other than the Black Widow understands Serbian. Did you really see štrudla somewhere? You know how I love it."

Pietro smiled wickedly. "Maybe. So, why don't I leave the searching for this stupid thing to you, while I go find us something sweet to eat?"

"And some proper coffee."

"Always coffee with you."

Wanda turned her focus from the red cloud emanating from her hands, which she was using to send a stack of files back to the tall cabinet on the other side of the room. She narrowed her eyes and glared at her brother. "Only if it is good. It is hard to find anything approaching true Serbian coffee anywhere else, but the Symkarians are not so terrible at it."

Pietro laughed. "Okay, okay."

6 January 2018, Ste. 3800 B, Avengers Tower, New York City

Eleanor clapped her hands and exclaimed excitedly, "So, guess what, y'all? Natalia is bringing my guardian-dog home today, which means that I am going to be allowed on walks outside now to build up my strength."

Smiling at her friend, Emilie replied, "That's wonderful. You could join me and Levya when I walk in the morning, if you would like. I'd so enjoy having you come along."

"I would like that very much, yes. Thank you."

Emilie patted Lev's side and replied, "Of course. Hopefully Levya and your new dog will get along though. I suppose, in theory, an Alpha-companion and an Omega-guardian should be compatible. So, did they decide on a Briard after all?"

With a nod and a quick, uneasy look at the door, Eleanor answered, "Clint was leaning towards one of the breeds that is more commonly used as an Alpha-companion, but tradition and Natashenka won out. The dog's name is Marcellin. Natalia selected him yesterday herself and will be flying back with him directly from the Moyenmoutier abbey this afternoon."

Emilie gasped, "Oh, my goodness, you are getting a Moyenmoutier-trained Briard? Those cost a shocking amount. You are so lucky."

Eleanor flushed slightly and replied, "I know. Clint is still a bit grouchy about it, but it is actually a present from Tony."

Laughing as she scratched behind Lev's ear, Emilie replied amiably, "Oh, then, that makes complete sense. Dr Stark does like to spoil you, doesn't he? And he definitely enjoys buying you the most expensive gifts possible, too."

"He was her terminal guardian, Emilie." Clémence frowned with disapproval at Emilie and then reached out to squeeze Eleanor's hand. "Of course, Dr Stark would naturally want her to appear to advantage as this affects his reputation, too. Additionally, it is obvious that he likes her very much."

Eleanor flushed deeply and replied, "I don't think that Tony is as concerned about social standing as many Alphas are, but I shall always be grateful for what he did for me and mindful of my duty to his reputation. He's incredibly kind to me."

Shrugging dismissively, Emilie responded, "My dear, Dr Stark knows that his fortune will cover him regardless of any social difficulties, which is good because he's definitely had his fair share. Not even our Grandmama Arsenault would refuse him entrance to one of her parties and she is the most horrifying snob of the entire New York Acadien social set, which is saying something."

Clémence turned bright red and, with a horrified gasp, exclaimed, "You shouldn't speak like that about Grandmama, Emilie!"

"Nonsense. Nous les Acadiens are too proud of ourselvesand you know it, Clémence. We act like we founded the state, not the Dutch. Worse, we pretend that it was our military prowess alone that allowed us to take New York from the British, not a cooperative effort with the Iroquois Confederacy. To hear Grandmama and her friends talk, you would think that it was Acadians who thrust the British out of New York again during the Revolutionary War, not the Americans."

"M-maybe. I know that the older society ladies can be a little prideful about our history, but you shouldn't speak like that of Grandmama. It isn't respectful, Emilie."

"Oh, you're a such little chatonne, Clémence! Our mothers cannot hear a word we're saying here and neither of our Alphas care anything about Acadian society, so we can say what we think. Eleanor doesn't mind. Anyway, we were talking about Dr Stark and how much he spoils our Eleanor, which she totally deserves. Who cares about Grandmama and all the other Acadian crones anyway? The way they've treated my Bucky is atrocious."

Desperate to stop the conflict between her friends, Eleanor interjected urgently, "Tony has been very generous to me, you are right. In fact, Natalia said that he nearly demanded that he be allowed to present me with my guardian-dog when he heard that Dr Lafoudis, my new physician, had approved of it. She says that he's been upset about my isolation and wants me to be able to go outside and feel safe now, which is so sweet, don't you think?"

Glancing nervously over at Emilie first, Clémence replied sincerely, "Yes, it really is."

Eleanor added sadly, "Natalia says Tony blames himself, since he brought in the bad physician that we were using, but he truly had no way of knowing that the physician was purposefully making things worse. I wish I knew some way I could return Tony's kindness without upsetting Clint in the process."

Clémence asked anxiously, "But you are doing ok now, right? You're better? I've been so worried about you."

"I am, yes." Eleanor smiled warmly at Clémence, "Thank you for asking."

"I'm so glad. What that man did is just evil. You don't know how angry I got when my mother wrote to me about it. Ugh!"

Emilie scoffed angrily at Clémence, who asked innocently, "What?"

Emilie hissed into her ear, "Well now you've put your foot in it, you silly ninny." Emilie looked contritely at Eleanor and said, "I have to apologise for both of our families, Eleanor. They are reacting unreasonably. Neither Clémence nor I would ever fault you for something outside your control. I know that you have been so miserable and it is terrible that society would blame you."

Eleanor nodded, but all the colour had left her face and she said softly, "Thank you."

Clémence insisted, "My family is wrong, Eleanor. Steve agrees. You are a dear person and if you are ever struggling with anything, then I hope you will let Emilie and I help you."

"Thank you, but I truly am quite alright." Eleanor gripped her hands together for a moment before she swept her hair to the side and re-established her usual perfect posture. "Unfortunately, the social damage is already done. People who want to make trouble for Clint can always say that I am an unstable, weak person, since I once had to be confined for agonia."

"Well, they are idiots." Emilie squeezed Eleanor's hand. "Bucky says that no one blames an Alpha who struggles with severe conditions like his, so they should stop penalising Omegas for anything that is even slightly out of the norm. I suppose he is right, too, even though I feel a bit nervous admitting that."

Surprised, Clémence asked, "Why?"

"Because it isn't our place to challenge the way things are done, is it?"

Eleanor sighed and fiddled with the new large, sugarloaf emerald ring on her right hand. "No, it isn't."

Her expression clouded with confusion, Clémence stated, "But they are wrong, Emilie. Steve says that he doesn't approve of snobbery like that or judging people based on superstition about illness and I completely agree with him. If we do not stand with our friends when they are having difficulty, then what does our friendship even mean?"

Emilie turned to her cousin, who was sitting next to her, and exclaimed heatedly, "I am not turning on Eleanor! I am only saying that I am not comfortable suggesting that I want to go change our entire society. That feels frighteningly radical to me. Why can we not just make our choices and stand by them? Passive resistance to bigotry is a valid option, Clémence."

Unable to withstand the furious expression on her cousin's face, Clémence seemed to collapse in on herself, as she stammered, "I-I-I…I wasn't suggesting we become radicals and go protest. Steve would never allow me to do anything like that, nor would I even want to. I just thought that, as our matches are famous men and you and I are both Arsenaults, if we clearly reject anyone who is judgemental about this, then some people will notice and it might make a difference. Might it not?"

As she could see that Emilie was going to respond angrily and further escalate the argument, Eleanor reached across and squeezed Clémence's hand, then interjected, "I am grateful to both of you for your support. I believe that you are correct, Clémence, that we can make a difference through our actions without being required to become public agitators. By going walking with me, Emilie, you would be making enough of a statement."

Emilie furrowed her brows for a moment and then replied with surprise, "I would hardly be doing much by talking walks with my friend. Anyone who objects to that is outrageously bigoted."

Her face flushed with embarrassment and nervousness, Clémence quietly commented, "My father does, Emilie."

"What? But Uncle Jean-Marc knows Eleanor! And Eleanor is the reason for your Introduction to Steve."

Clémence hung her head and murmured, "Yes, I know. Father called me last week because he assumed that I would not have talked to Steve about this while he was still on the mission. Father said that I needed to be careful about my associations, since they affect the family. Fortunately, I was able to tell him that Steve had already rejected that nonsense."

Emilie was flushed red with anger, as she exclaimed, "That's…that is just ridiculous that he would say that."

Her eyes full of tears, Eleanor replied, "Thank you for standing up to your father on my behalf, Clémence. That was very loyal of you and I am grateful."

Getting up from her chair, Clémence leant across and hugged Eleanor impulsively. "Eleanor, you have always been kind to me. Of course, I am your friend."

Emilie's lips were pursed as she sat very still for a few moments and then added, "I am embarrassed that my uncle would have said such a thing, Eleanor. I suppose you are right, Clémence. We must be very clear through our actions that we reject that type of thinking."

"You do not need to anger your family, too, Emilie. It is ok."

"I don't care a bit what my parents say, honestly. They are still so awful about Bucky that I have already realised that their opinions are sometimes flawed. Bucky is amazing, but at least I can see why they had a concern initially. But they never admitted their error, even though he's been utterly faithful, has never laid a finger on me in violence once, has financially supported us quite well, and (far from being a criminal) he is actually an Avenger. Their predictions were so wrong. So, what do they know anyway?"

"Both of you are lovely for being so willing to support me, but I honestly would be horrified to cause further discord between either of you and your families."

Emilie shook her head. "Honestly, I am the last girl in the world to consider rebelling, Eleanor. Clémence is just the same. I'm sorry to say that we Arsenaults are a stodgy, hidebound old family that enforces the strictest Byzantine protocol upon all its members. I never questioned it as a child, but that changed when they were all so unreasonable about Bucky. Now, I am severely disappointed that our parents, who know you, would react so unreasonably about something that is hardly your fault. So, Clémence and I are simply doing what is right. Now then, let's talk more about your guardian-dog. What does your match think about a Briard, since he wanted another breed?"

"Well, Clint is fine with us getting a Briard, but he is pretty upset that Tony is the one giving me the dog. Nevertheless, he accepted the situation because Tony is my terminal guardian, even though Clint is still unhappy. Natalia is much more pragmatic about that sort of thing, yet she is just my sister and not my match."

First taking a sip of her tea, which was nearly cold, Emilie commented, "She is very intimately involved in your life though. Your match cedes a lot of authority over you to Agent Romanova though, doesn't he?"

Immediately defensive, Eleanor explained firmly, "That is just how Clint and Natashenka work though. He trusts her to help me. As long as he has no particular or no very strong opinion on something, then he is willing to give Natashenka her way. Nevertheless, if Clint truly disagrees with her though, then he makes it clear and Natashenka immediately drops the matter. There is no question as to how the authority is divided."

Emilie explained, "Oh, no, I wasn't trying to say anything about your match's ability to hold authority over the bondmatch. I just meant that they have clearly decided that Agent Romanova is allowed to be very involved, so perhaps your match permitted her to have this choice since it mattered to her. Their relationship is different, so I cannot expect them to arrange things like Bucky and Steve are doing now."

"Yes, that is exactly right. Natalia was very insistent that a Briard is not just the correct breed because of function, but because a guardian-dog with the famous Moyenmoutier red collar commands enough respect that it opens doors for any Omega who is guarded by one."

Clémence commented, "I would never have thought of that, but she is right. Only the very wealthiest and most connected of families can purchase one."

"I think that is one of the reasons that Clint most objected, however." Eleanor sat back and folded her hands neatly in her lap. "Clint feels that everyone will know that he could not possibly have managed to provide me with a Moyenmoutier dog on his own. As Natashenka explained to me, it is tantamount to announcing my connexion with Tony. And frankly, Clint has never been comfortable with how much of our lifestyle is underwritten by the Avenger's Initiative, which receives much of its funding from Tony."

Emilie asked, "But Agent Barton is employed by the Avengers, so why does that matter?"

"My security, my companion, my driver, our apartment and most of the furnishings in it, use of a private chef, and even the weekly visit from the hairdresser and manicurist are all funded by the Avengers directly. That is a pretty unusual arrangement."

Emilie shrugged. "The chef, hairdresser, and manicurist are available to all Avengers personnel and their Omega matches. All of us can use the drivers on staff, as well. The security manages all of the private living floors. All members of the Avengers receive furnished living quarters. None of this is just being given to your match as if Agent Barton cannot afford it."

"I know that and Clint realises that, too. However, he is still bothered by it." Eleanor regarded her nails carefully, as she considered how best to explain. "I think Clint feels uncomfortable because of his background, but also because he does not want to feel as if he is beholden to Tony specifically. Although, I don't think Tony would ever see it that way. Tony is simply providing benefits to his teammates in the same way that he gives things to any of his friends."

Clémence spoke up, "Steve is uncomfortable with it, too, actually. He reminded me just yesterday that our bedroom is approximately the size of the whole apartment that he and Bucky had at the start of the war."

"That's interesting. Bucky has said that he has no problem reaping the benefits of a billionaire teammate." Emilie laughed and added, "Although, I have to admit he said that specifically in regards to the upgrades that Dr Stark made to Bucky's beloved Sveta."

Her eyes widened as Clémence whispered, "Who is Sveta?"

Emilie laughed. "Oh, that is his sniper rifle. Sveta sleeps in a special weapons locker built into the base of our bed, which has custom padding and a special sensor for his arm that releases it. Sveta lives next to her 'sister': Masha, which is his fully customised handgun. The only things that Bucky loves more than those two guns are me and Steve. I'm not actually joking about that either."

Clémence nodded with complete understanding. "I don't know if he has named his shield, but Steve won't let me even touch it. He got really growly once when I moved it over slightly because he'd propped it up against the table leg and I was afraid it might make a mark. I won't ever make that mistake again."

Eleanor smiled. "That's interesting that your matches are so possessive about their weapons. Clint is very different. When he was teaching me how to fire a gun, he had me stand in his weapons closet and try holding all of them. Then he brought along the four that he thought fit my hand best and we tried them all in the range. Clint shares freely with Natashenka, too."

"Really? What about his bow?"

"He is a little different about all his bows, it's true." Eleanor tilted her head, as she considered it further and then added, "Natalia was surprised when I told her that he'd given me access to all the drawers in the weapons closet, since he keeps three bows in there. I am nowhere near strong enough to draw them back though, so I don't think Clint is very concerned about me damaging them. He bought me a little children's bow to learn on and I even struggle with that one. I hate practising archery and I absolutely dread our lessons."

Emilie asked with obvious shock, "Agent Barton is teaching you how to fire guns and how to shoot arrows? Truly?"

"Yes, why?"

"Bucky has said that the day I pick up a gun to fire against an enemy, that is the day he has failed as an Alpha."

Eleanor gasped. "Oh, wow, Emilie. That is a pretty extreme statement."

Emilie narrowed her eyes and replied defensively, "Most Alphas would feel threatened if their match wanted to learn how to protect herself other than to carry one of the stun guns or tiny pistols, Eleanor. Protection is their province and an enormous part of their designation."

"I don't think it ever occurred to Steve to teach me about weapons and I'm so grateful. I wouldn't want to refuse to learn if he wanted me to, but I'm glad I don't need to." Clémence asked, "Was it Agent Barton's idea to teach you or yours?"

"His, of course." Eleanor waved one hand dismissively. "I never wanted to learn to use weapons either, Clémence. But target practice is fun for Clint. He spends hours and hours at it every week. That is probably why he thought it would be something we could do together, so I said I would learn."

Flabbergasted, Emilie asked, "So, he is teaching you to use a gun as a hobby or something?"

"I suppose so, yes."

Emilie stammered, "Does he not have any idea how that would be seen by almost anyone other than you?"

"No, no he really doesn't. Clint does things his own way."

Clémence commented nervously, "But he is just trying to share what is important to him, Emilie. I think it is sweet in a weird way."

Suddenly laughing, Eleanor replied, "That is Clint."

7 January 2017, Prince Thor's Pavilion, Someplace Else

"My lord."

Thor lifted his head and raised his bloodshot eyes towards the entrance to his pavilion tent. When he saw Sif standing before him, he stood up sharply and bowed. "Lady Sif, I did not expect to see you this evening. I must apologise for my appearance. How may I be of service to you?"

"Will you not attend the feast this evening, my lord? Fandral had hoped to see you present."

Looking away with both embarrassment and frustration, Thor replied gruffly, "I am greatly pleased that Fandral's wife has safely delivered a child, both for their family and for the kingdom. Our people are diminishing, so every birth is particularly blessed."

"And yet, you do not attend the festivities, my lord. As both our regent and our commander, your presence is always remarked by all, as is your absence. We are all aware of your grief, nor would we ask you to set it aside. Prince Loki was your brother and he died in service of the kingdom. However, if I may be so bold, I would ask that you reconsider whether you might not at least attend the banquet for a short space of time."

Rubbing his hands through his scruffy beard, Thor replied with an exhausted sigh, "It is not merely the loss of Loki that occupies my mind. There are much more pressing issues over which I am presently struggling, Lady Sif."

"Are the tidings from Jotunheim so poor, my lord?"

"Yes. The situation, as it is, appears to be untenable. I cannot now see how we shall bring this to a successful finish. The Allfather is still caught in the Odinsleep and Loki shall never again wake. I know not how to proceed and I no longer have anyone to whom I can turn for advice on either the war or this more private concern that troubles me."

Sif bowed her head. "I am sorry, my lord."

Thor stared at her for several moments, then took two steps forwards. "Sif."

"Yes, my lord?"

"I am a man of action, not of words. I cannot make a speech worthy of what I wish to say."

"Perhaps it is not necessary to say anything more than what you mean."

"I should wait, I think, for a time when the kingdom is not in danger of falling before its enemies. These things should be said when one is surrounded by a setting worthy of the sentiments behind the words." Thor looked down at her with a frown and wild eyes that bespoke of weeks of strained, nearly sleepless nights. He waved his hands in the air and dramatically gestured as he continued, "Yet, I know not whether I shall ever walk the halls of my forefathers again. The battle goes so poorly that we may never return home unless it is to be laid on the boat for Valhalla. Will you permit me to speak to you now, therefore? I swear that I mean no disrespect to your worth."

"What it is that you wish, my lord?"

"I wish you to marry me, Sif—here in the camp on Vanaheim. March onto the fields at my side, as my wife and companion. Lead the troops with me, as a princess of Asgard. I would make you queen of the nine realms, if it were in my power to do so."

Incapable of covering her emotion, Sif replied softly, "Would you truly? Then I know not why you waited so long to speak."

"Honestly, because I am a fool. Somehow, I did not know my own heart until a year ago, which is inexcusable, as I now realise that I have loved you since I first saw you with a sword in your hand. However, I have also hesitated to speak in this last year, since we have been hard at war. It did not seem to be the time for feasting and celebration."

"I see. This has now changed?"

"No. I simply find that I can no longer face the burden of this war without you at my side, Sif. I long for you too greatly and it pulls at my mind constantly. I do not know the way forwards."

Sif stood very still, as she watched Thor, then shook her head. "I am sorry to cause you pain, my lord, however I do not see how I can agree. A marriage now, especially one so sudden, may cause a grave scandal."

Thor grunted with surprise, but found sufficient strength to recover his composure enough to bow and reply, "Very well, I understand. I value your honour and reputation too greatly to consider anything that you feel may harm either one, Lady Sif. I thank you for allowing me to speak so plainly about such a delicate topic, despite our surroundings. You need not worry that I shall press you further. I quite understand."

Turning towards the exit of the tent, Sif said quietly, "I am sorry, my lord. Truly. Please believe that I wish that I could answer differently."

"If you do not believe that I could make you contented, then there is no other answer to be given, my lady. Your happiness is of greater concern to me than my own."

Bobbing her head respectfully, Sif turned and nearly fled from Thor's tent in the direction of the feast.

Thor stumbled back until he was standing in front of a camp chair into which he let himself fall. He stared blindly in front of him for some time, only coming back to his surroundings when he heard the sound of the tent flap being lifted once more.

"Come and eat with us, my lord. You will make yourself ill if you stay here fasting and mourning."

"She refused me, Hogun."

"Perhaps it was not the correct timing. Lady Sif is a warrior, my lord. She would not wish to appear to have been the easy or comfortable choice selected to give you comfort in the midst of a difficult battle."

Thor stood up unsteady and hoarsely shouted, "Who would say this? Who would dare to question the Lady Sif's worth? I would have their name, so I can discover what they say once I have loosed Mjolnir into their face."

Hogun bowed, then replied calmly, "I do not think that anyone has said anything of this nature, my lord. However, you have hidden your feelings well, as is very proper during a time of mourning and war, so a sudden wedding would almost certainly come as a surprise to the people."

"My desire to be wedded to Sif is anything but sudden, Hogun. I had hoped to court her properly back on Asgard, once this war was won. She deserves nothing less. However, I now find that I am weak. I am uncertain how to go forwards without her at my side."

His sad eyes wide with concern and empathy, Hogun bowed once again. "Perhaps, my lord, all is not yet lost. Sif is not indifferent to you. You may be unable to court her, but you might permit yourself to show your feelings more publicly."

"I promised her that I would not press her further, Hogun. I shall not go back on my word, nor do I wish to make her uncomfortable. Sif deserves far better than that."

"Very well, my lord. However, might you not honour her request to come to the feast for Fandral?"

Thor nodded. "Of course. You are right. I owe nothing less to my brother-in-arms, as well."

9 January 2017, Ste. 3800 A, Avengers Tower, New York City

"Natashenka?"

Immediately closing her magazine, Natasha looked over at Eleanor with concern. "What is it?"

"Did you read this thing in the Stars! magazine?"

Snorting with disdain, Natasha replied, "No, I never read that trash and neither should you."

"Well…I don't usually. But Clémence asked me if I'd seen it, so I went to their website and looked."

Natasha made an annoyed face and held out her hand imperiously. After taking the tablet from Eleanor, Natasha laid it in her lap and began scanning the article. It was only a few seconds before she made an angry snarling sound and then set it down again. "I should have been alerted immediately about that article. There are several people who will be receiving a visit from me later today. However, that doesn't fix things for you now, does it, sestrenka?"

Eleanor sniffled miserably. "Not really. It is awful."

"It is, yes. The author of that little journalistic treat is obviously a very ignorant Beta." Natasha patted Eleanor's knee perfunctorily, as she spoke. She then continued angrily, "Yet, she is peddling the usual tripe, Eleanor. Beta culture has long wilfully misunderstood sibling bonds. It is hardly a surprise that your cousin availed himself of the opportunity to make a profit at your expense when he was so unwilling to help you when you needed it."

"But this is all false!" Eleanor glared hatefully at the tablet on which the magazine article was displayed and asked, "It must be libel, mustn't it?"

"Hm, well, possibly not, since Clint and I are public figures. The bar for libel is higher for us. You, on the other hand, are not. Yet, since you are married to a public figure, that makes your relationship with Clint legitimate news. They were very cautious about the claims that they made. The worst parts are actually quotes from anonymous 'close' sources. There are other rumours described as 'common questions' or similar vague terms that technically don't purport to be fact."

Horrified, Eleanor whispered, "You mean, they can actually write things like this and get away with it?"

Natasha leant back into the sofa cushion as she watched Eleanor carefully. "Probably, yes. I shall see what our attorneys say. There are particular protections for guardian-class Omegas in a bondmatch. I admit that I am not fully aware of how these would govern libel."

"But Natashenka, this is not just a little bit of gossip. They implied that Clint sleeps with both you and me! They specifically said that I was kicked out of my family for having an intimate 'connexion' with a neighbour, which anyone would read as having been a physical relationship. Then, the article clearly questions whether the absence of the rest of the Avengers at our bondmatch means that you and Clint actually forced me! And they specifically state that I am severely mentally ill."

"Yes, however, nothing was a direct accusation, sestrenka. I'm sorry, but yes, it might be technically legal if all the assertions are made cleverly."

"So, everyone is going to think that all this is true and we can't do anything about it?"

Natasha brought the tablet with her, as she walked over to Eleanor and sat beside her. She then wrapped one arm around Eleanor and set the tablet on the table. "I wish that I had an obvious solution other than forcing a retraction, which would be hard. Some smaller gossip sites or publications would be easier, but Stars! is very well funded."

Eleanor stared up at Natasha for a long, tense moment before she stood up awkwardly. "I think…I think that I'll just go lay down for a bit."

"Stark will already be on this, soloveyka. In addition to our family's lawyers, the team has four attorneys and Stark has an army of them. We can unleash all of this legal talent on Stars! and its staff to make this go away if possible, Lenochka."

"I know. Yet, once this sort of thing is out there, you know that the damage cannot be fully remediated. It is just so awful that I don't know how to handle the thought that my reputation will be so horribly sullied now over lies. I just think that maybe I'd like to go lay down for a while, if you don't mind, Natalia."

"Of course, I don't mind. Do you want me to make you some tea first?"

"No, thank you. I'm sorry."

Natasha stood in the hall, watching as Eleanor hurried into the bedroom that she used when in Natasha's flat and closed the door quickly. With a snarl of fury, Natasha spun on her heel and rapidly made her way back to her tablet.

Less than a minute later, a bleary-eyed Clint answered, "Uh, hello? Nat? Это ты?"

"Да. У нас свежая катастрофа. The press has found out that both you and Steve have matches and we have a serious problem in how they reported it."

Clint cursed loudly in Russian and sat up on the edge of his hotel bed. "Does Ellie know yet?"

"Believe it or not, she knew before I did. Steve's match sent her the link. There are a lot of people who have some explaining to do."

"F***. How bad?"

Natasha made a sound of intense anger. "Initially, the article seemed like all the usual kind of inaccurate s*** that Betas gossip about: a report that you and I are actually lovers not siblings and then some ignorant nonsense about Omegas, but then they added some nasty rumours that Lenochka slept with that Beta neighbour and that you and I forced her to compel the bondmatch. There's more. I sent the link to you. I'll be going down to Stark in a minute, but, knowing him, he is probably already talking to the attorneys."

"The press timed this so Steve and I would be out of contact, didn't they? Our presence at these meetings was publicised."

"Not sure if Stars! keeps track of where you are, Clint, but Rogers is with you so it is possible. Therefore, they might have assumed that we won't be able to combat this immediately so they'd get to direct a full new cycle. I don't know, Yastreb, and I don't like this."

Clint's anxiety was building to the point he leapt up and began pacing the floor frantically. "I can't come back yet, not for another day. There's no way, Nat."

"I know, bratik. I know. Eleanor is in her room though, so call her now. She needs you. That's why I woke you up. You cannot do anything else from there, but you are the only one who can help make her feel better."

"S***. Yeah, ok. Hold on." Clint turned around and called out, "Yeah, it's Nat…yeah, that's what she called about…no clue. I'll ask." Clint looked back at Natasha. "So, have any of the networks picked it up yet?"

"Tell Rogers that he is capable of looking at that himself. I need to go, Clint."

First checking the state of his t-shirt, Clint then ran his hand through his hair and began combing his fingers through his beard. "Yeah, ok. I gotta call Ellie."

"Yes, you do. I have my own things to handle right now. I'll call you in a couple of hours, but if you find anything out then I expect you to let me know immediately."

Clint stared at the phone for a moment before he took a deep breath and pressed the button to make a video call.

When she finally answered, he could tell that Eleanor had hurriedly run a brush through her hair, but that she hadn't had time to powder her face to cover the fact that she'd been crying. "Clint? Are you ok? Isn't it the middle of the night there?"

"Yeah, but I needed to call you, baby."

"Oh. The article?"

"Yep. Nat called and I'm glad she did. Don't worry about this, Ellie. This reporter is definitely not getting away with lying about you. I've only had a minute to think about it here, but, at first glance, it seems to me that the best thing for us to do is agree to a big interview with one of the major news networks or something. Cap, Barnes, and me can go on there and make s*** real clear. They cannot be allowed to just make cr** up about you. I won't allow it, Ellie."

Clint could see the uncertainty in her eyes, as Eleanor replied, "But Natalia said that they can't be sued."

"I don't know if that's true or not, but we sure as h*ll can do something immediately to combat this kind of attack on our matches' characters. If we go out there and answer all their questions, then this reporter just looks like a scumbag that hates Omegas or something."

"Won't it just look as if we are trying to do damage control to cover up a scandal? People might still believe the lies."

Clint propped the phone up on the bedside table, so he could have both hands free. Then he scrubbed his hands over his face to try to wake himself up further. "We're never going to be able to control what everyone else thinks about the Avengers, Ellie. We couldn't before this happened either. But if the vast majority of people not only believe us, but are disgusted by the lies this reporter told about our matches, then we win."

"But do you think that they will believe you? Truly?"

"Baby, I don't know, but I sure as h*ll intend to come out swinging. I know that Cap is so furious about what they wrote about Clémence that I'm seriously glad that Barnes is here. I don't think that I'd be able to keep him from doing something foolish in retaliation. Honestly, I pretty much wanna go track this reporter down and force them to make an on-air apology. Can't do that though unless I want to spend some time in jail afterwards, so I'm gonna try to make the smart play as Nat would call it."

"Honestly, Clint, you think it will be ok? We can do something about this?"

"Yeah, baby. I really do. I love you so much, ok? I am proud of you. I want everyone else to know how great you are, too."

Clint saw the tiny smile ghost across Eleanor's lips and knew that, somehow, he had said the right thing.

Note:

Just like in the MCU movies, in the A/B/O portions of the story, Wanda Maximoff (and her brother, Pietro, when he was alive) is from Sokovia. However, in the Someplace Else universe of the other portions of the story, Pietro (still alive) and Wanda are from Serbia, as in the main storyline comics.

For those who are interested, here is a rough translation of the Serbian:
Али ако је истините, онда је то више застрашујуће од јебене апокалипсе. (But if it's true, then it's more scary than a f***ing apocalypse.)
Ћелава чаробница (Bald sorceress)
Глупан (dork/fathead, etc)