June 1942

Bucky waved goodbye to his army pals, pulling the duffel bag closely as he walked back in the familiar streets of Brooklyn. He had to admit, he missed the sounds of the city compared to the quiet of the army base.

It was still early and according to Christiane's recent letter, Christiane worked the mornings until she came back in the afternoon. She had quit the mechanic shop and was now working in an antiques shop with Anya in Brooklyn. He checked his watch, reading seven in the morning.

He turned onto his street, hoping that Anya hadn't left for work yet. As he started taking the stairs, his feet quiet against the steps, he finally faced the Bougourd sister's apartment.

He felt butterflies dancing in his stomach, his heart beat pounding against his rib cage. He knocked, waiting for a response.

Anya was making her morning coffee before hearing a knock. She was already dressed in a white collared shirt and a brown pencil skirt. She made for the door, mug in hand as she peered through the peephole.

"Bucky?" she opened the door, a radiant smile on her face.

"Anya," he returned the smile, hugging her.

"Christiane isn't here, she's at work right now." Anya set her mug down, grabbing another cup for Bucky. "Please sit, have you had breakfast yet? How long is leave this time?"

"Not yet, and for two days, and," he hesitated, before looking at her in all nervousness, "I'm not actually here to see Christiane, I'm here to see you,"

Anya was in the kitchen, moving around to put some buttered toast on the stove.
"Now why would you like to see me, Bucky?"

He paused again, trying to find the right words that would put his thoughts together. Instead, he decided to be straight forwards. He straightened up, looking at her as she came to sit opposite him.
"I would like to ask your permission and blessing,"

Anya took a sip of her coffee, her eyes focused on him, "Yes?"

"For Christiane's hand in marriage,"

She set the mug down, looking at him. Her lips curved at the corners, before growing in a full smile.
"Bucky, do you think its wise right now? With you in the army?"

"Timing is never right, but I hoped we could get married after the war. For now, I'd just like to give her my mother's ring, to hear what she'd think." He looked down at the table, watching the coffee swirl in his mug before looking back at Anya.

She saw him, saw his raw emotions - he looked like he was trying to stifle back tears, eyes full of adoration.

"I love her, Anya. I love her with all my heart and all my life." his voice cracked, his eyes focused now on Anya's.

Anya nodded, standing up to the kitchen to bring the toast back to the table.
"I know you do," she sat back down, legs crossed as she took another sip of her coffee.

"Do you promise to protect her, to be by her side always? To dedicate your life to hers and be with her in sickness and in health? Do you promise you'll follow her to the ends of the world and time? Do you promise to love her unconditionally?"

Bucky nodded, smiling as he felt the weight off his chest lifted, "Yes, I promise."

"You have my blessing and my permission, Barnes."

It was the end of her morning training at the SSR. Christiane walked back home, tugging on the darn collared shirt that itched her neck. At least she got to wear trousers she thought to herself. She turned onto another street, walking under the sun.

She squinted, trying to see who the little guy was as a big man shoved him. Her eyes flew wide, realizing it was Steve, again.

The man shoved him into an alley, Steve's arms up in defense already. She ran, turning into the alley as she saw Steve's lip already bloodied, the man's hand gripped at Steve's shirt.

"Hey! Hand's off!" she stood her ground firmly, looking him in the eye.

The man turned, taking her in slyly, "Well hello, sweetheart."

"I said take your hand's off him." her voice more stern, she moved pulling his arm away.

The man looked at her in shock, his face twisting into anger as he readied himself to push her to the wall.

Christiane gripped his wrist, twisting it quickly before kicking him at a full force to his stomach and her other arm elbowing him in the face.

Steve looked in shock to the fight, hearing a crunch and the man stumbling back shouting in pain.

"You bitch!" he muffled through. His hand over his nose.

Christiane stood ready, her arms up to guard her face, palm open and feet planted to the ground. Steve saw the green of her eyes emerald, her dark brown hair flitting in the wind; she looked like an Olympian goddess, Athena, poised to fight.

The man took another step forwards trying to take a swing a her before she ducked, punching him in the stomach again and using his outreached arm to put over her shoulder. She pulled down, throwing him over her shoulder onto the ground. He scrambled up, running out the alley and limping.

"How'd you do that?" Steve looked at her, eyes wide in awe.

She brushed the dirt off her clothes, walking to Steve to offer up his arm to stand.
"Just some training," she grabbed a handkerchief from her bag, dabbing it on Steve's lip. "This'll need some disinfection."

"I'll be fine," Steve waved his hand, holding onto the handkerchief as they walked out the alley way.

"Not when that gets infected and you run a fever," she stopped, looking at him in threat to the argument.

Steve sighed, before smiling to her and nodding, "You're always right about this,"

Christiane laughed, rolling her eyes, "That's because it's happened before, Steve! Come on, let's go home."

Anya sat by the windowsill, watching the summer rain fall against the glass, dark and metallic against the night.

"You're thinking about him, aren't you?"

Anya turned around to see Christiane standing by her doorway.

Her smile was faint, trying to hide her emotions, "How did you know?"

"You have this look in your eyes when you think about him, like you're full of love but so empty from it," she walked closer to her sister, hugging her tightly.

"I'm still thinking about the last time we talked," her voice barely audible.

"To be queen?"

"He didn't even come in person to ask me. He's so engulfed in jealousy," she bowed her head down, looking to her hands.

"Go," Christiane replied, "Go find him. Go tell him how feel."

Anya chuckled, "Look at you, always being the big sister out of the both of us."

"You were always the logical one, I was always the emotional one," Christiane engulfed her sister in a hug.

"How's the boys?" she whispered quietly.

Christiane tip-toed to the living room, seeing Bucky passed out on the sofa and Steve on the armchair before she tip-toed back to her sister, "As still as rocks," she laughed quietly.

"Go back to bed, poulette," pulling her sister to kiss her cheek. "Bonne nuit"

"Bonne nuit," she kissed her sister's cheek before tip-toeing back to her room.

Anya returned her focus to the droplets on the glass, laying down back into her bed, pulling the covers up.

She closed her eyes, taking a breath in as she tried to envision the Bifrost entrance.

"Little one," Heimdall's voice approached, her eyes opening as she hugged him tightly.

"I saw you coming," he smiled to her sympathetically. "He still doesn't want to see anyone."

"I need to see him," her eyes focused onto the Bifrost leading to the palace.

"I know," he gave her a cape to wear over her in dark blue, "He's in the palace library."

The velvet of the cape, a brooch with the tree of Æsir in silver. "It's beautiful, Heimdall."

"Keep it, Frigga wanted to give you the Valkyrie blessing," he smiled, nodding to her to take it as he fastened it on her.

"But…"

"Frigga sees you as family, a warrior, as strong as a Valkyrie," he brushed the silver brooch before holding her at her arms. "He's in the palace library, go little one."

"Thank you, Heimdall, for everything," she looked over her shoulder before walking down the Bifrost, trying to think of words and ways. The closer she got, the angrier her sadness turned. She was enraged, fists balled up as she walked on in determination until she reached the front of library.

Anya took a deep breath before opening the heavy wooden door, causing Loki to turn around, his eyes wide and in shock.

"Anya? What are," he replied cooly, his eyes still in anger.

She shouted, "Loki, how dare you give me such an ultimatum and not come to me in person?" She walked up to him, pushing him in the chest hard as he stumbled back, a look of amusement in his face.

Anya continued, "You think this is funny? I love you! Do you hear me? I love you, Loki and yet you are so engulfed in jealousy and pride to even see what is and what has always been in front of you."

His face changed, eyes softening as he tried to take a step towards her, a hand outreached to hold her, "Anya, please,"

Anya backed a step, her voice quiet, "I have always loved you Loki, and I always will."
She turned her back, running to the door sending the cape flying behind her.