I had the immense pleasure of working with Ellarie_png on a piece of art she created to go along with a scene from this chapter. Please check out this chapter on Archive of Our Own to see the art and link to her Instagram to see more of her incredible art!
And *huge* thanks to her for bringing this particular moment to life in full-color.
Simply search for: "KLeCrone Ao3 Winter of the White Wolf"
Winter of the White Wolf
Chapter 44 - The Mouse and the Lion
Nomble raised her head to watch the Royal Talon Fighter lean left and slip away between the distant mountains as it headed back towards the Design Center. As it passed out of view, she found herself saying a silent prayer that those aboard would be well: Sam for his injuries, and for both T'Challa and Okoye for their wisdom to do what was right for Wakanda and their allies in the wake of such violence and disarray.
On any other day, the distant mountaintop facility was a place of peace and technological innovations, but this would not be the first time where it was beset with strife. There were hospitals and medical complexes elsewhere in Wakanda, certainly, but the Design Center was an unspoken hub of knowledge on how to best treat severe injuries as well as those that might require more experimental techniques.
Nomble had glimpsed the aftermath of the Battle of Mount Bashenga and the Battle for Earth firsthand, and how the Design Center had transformed into medical treatment site in their wake. She hadn't been present for the time after the Battle of Wakanda, but she knew the fallout from that event was not-doubt similar. How those within would have rapidly pivoted their attention away from their experiments so that they could lend aid to injured without hesitation. It didn't matter what your trained specialty was: you were capable of helping until and after further medical support arrived.
Perhaps that was why the sight of the inside of the Propulsion Center desecrated with blood bothered her so: Because she knew those who were stationed there would now be among those tasked with helping their fellow scientists and guarding Doras with their injuries.
And now, Sam would be returning to the complex for treatment as well, and his appearance would no-doubt have a way of drawing questions from watchful eyes. For it was one thing to offer aid to Sergeant Barnes or Everet Ross when the rest of Wakanda was still, but prioritizing care of an outsider over Wakanda's own could be deemed… troublesome.
Nomble only hoped such matters could be managed with some elegance. In light of them: perhaps it was for the best that Barnes's care was not placed against those he'd so recently harmed. It was no coincidence that King T'Challa, Okoye, Shuri, and Ayo would be meeting shortly to discuss what had happened and their next-steps.
A sigh escaped Nomble's lips and she chose to take another moment to attempt to ground herself and her thoughts amid the sounds of nature. The soft rustle of leaves. The chatter of birds and branches swaying to a idelic breeze. The sun-kissed sweetness of warm afternoon light falling across her skin like a cascading reminder that the world was far larger than these worries that plagued her.
She drank in the play of dappled light across her skin and did her best to center herself and simply listen. Though she knew a patrol ship remained nearby in case of further ...developments… she was relieved to not be able to pick out the drone of their engines in the distance.
Would the man behind her be able to hear them still?
As if freshly reminded of her purpose, Nomble turned around, settling herself into a guard's alert stance beside her spear as she regarded the three figures joining her on their impromptu wilderness excursion.
A short distance away, White Wolf, Barnes, or whoever he wished to call himself remained standing in the center of a room-sized orange dome that separated him from the rest of the world. He hadn't done so much as take a single step since being commanded by General Okoye to remain still, but his ever-alert eyes shifted warily between the three nearby Doras and their surroundings. Nomble was surprised he hadn't at least thought to test the one-way shield for weakness, but perhaps he thought it better to bide his time and wait until less eyes were upon him.
Even after seeing firsthand what the man before her was capable of, it was hard to see him like this. The subtle nuances of the man she knew, her 'Isalamane Sentliziyo' that she had shared tea with not even a day ago, were buried under sweat, blood, grime, and a heavy weight of terrible defeat that was difficult to even glimpse upon. He kept his head low in a submissive, defeated posture she felt certain was not a feign. The working theory, that he believed them to be HYDRA felt all-but confirmed, though it was strange to her that he was not more inclined to fight. That instead he'd willingly chosen to be compliant.
It was heartbreaking to see him this way. Both so misguided and mistaken in his beliefs, but also unwavering in his resolve to ensure Sam Wilson received treatment.
His blue eyes lifted to meet her gaze briefly, but he broke away from the contact and let them fall back to ground. There, the blood-soaked earth pooled around his split-open left boot, and splashes of bright crimson slicked the wild grass at his feet.
It was clear from how he held his shoulders that he was favoring his right foot, but the pale man was doing what he could to mime that the grievous injury wasn't as severe as it truly was. Had it not been for the serum running through his veins, Nomble was certain he would have collapsed outright not half an hour earlier from pain or blood loss alone. Instead, she could see the muscles of his arm, neck, and face twitch in response from his injuries, though he kept his eyes downcast where he stood within his personal prison of not only the shield itself, but his own mind.
His expression was hard to parse, but his heavy breathing and the quick movements of his eyes gave away the unease of the situation he'd found himself in. It had only been a matter of months since she'd last glimpsed him in a state unlike his own, and each and every time it was surreal, as if pieces of the man she knew were peeled away and replaced with those of a stranger. Yet at the same time: she felt certain she could catch fleeting glimpses of her friend struggling within, and that same pervasive look of deep worry White Wolf kept wrapped around himself when he questioned if he belonged, or if he was merely a burden.
Nomble caught movement out of the corner of her eye as Teela inclined her head to acknowledge her from where she stood to one side of the dome. On the far side, Yama pursed her lips, raising her chin in thought as she silently regarded the man inside the orange energy dome. Though others might presume Yama was simply steadfast in her duty, Nomble knew her friend well enough to know she was focused on whatever plan she was scheming, and how they might try to get through to the man inside.
It was not as if Nomble was not also trying to consider such topics, but there was something in Yama's manner that spoke to her having grasped some precious breadcrumbs that could aid them in their quest. Perhaps Sam had offered her and Teela clues of some sort? Nomble felt certain she would know soon enough, but that it was wise to let Yama reflect on matters at her own pace.
As Nomble turned her attention back to the broader view, she let her eyes settle over their surroundings. Without all the other aircraft and people around, their location grew more recognizable, though her mind still struggled to pick out familiar details.
She hadn't set foot on this spot in what the world insisted was over six years, and during that time, nature hadn't any reason to stop growing simply to preserve her memory of the place. The wooded alcove smelled fresh and earthy, and was situated high enough atop Primitive Peaks that it afforded an expansive view of Warrior Falls. Though there was remarkable beauty in the vista, the location hadn't been chosen for aesthetics, but because it was nearly impossible to access from the ground due to its plateaued precipices. This natural feature made the spot a safe setting of respite for when they needed to work with White Wolf and the code words that plagued him.
While she was no stranger to the importance of this spot, Nomble was well-aware it was an almost sacred location to Ayo and White Wolf, both of whom had spent many long days and weeks here even after the snare of the code words had finally been broken. Freedom was not a destination, but a state of mind. There was work yet to be done even after Shuri had pulled the last snare from him, for the wounds left in the wake of such milestones still required further care and attention so they might mend in time.
Some of the wounds left behind were so private and personal that they were not discussed outside of Ayo, Shuri, and White Wolf himself.
And after all that he had been through? Neither Nomble nor anyone else were owed further explanation.
But being here so many years later, particularly without Ayo, cast a very strange veil of sentiment over the cascade of wild grass, unkempt bushes, and arching trees. Though Nomble knew that her Chief had been the one to select their location, it felt strangely invasive to be there without her. Not haunted, or unwelcome, but perhaps like being alone in someone's house while they were not home.
Her eyes lifted at the sight of Yama's movement as the other Dora set about relocating some fallen logs to clear the area around the shielded dome. Nomble took Yama's actions as a signal that she might be ready to engage with those around her, and she stepped over to assist her, "Did you visit this place? During the Decimation?"
"Many times," Yama confirmed, "often with Ayo. Sometimes without. It was a good place to escape to when the silence of the city and the world around us grew too great." The other woman turned to look out over the view as she added more quietly, "Though even then, it was strange how even the birds knew what had happened. They searched their voices to find new songs to mourn kin that glimpsed the realm of our ancestors as you our White Wolf did." Yama took in a deep breath of air as she added, "It is an immeasurable relief to share the view with both of you again. Even after this day we have stepped into so far, I would choose to face a thousand like it over the silence and wondering of those years."
Nomble could not know all her friend and others like her had seen and experienced during the Decimation, but the powerful sincerity in her words was not lost on her, "It is a relief to me as well," Nomble admitted. "Though sometimes, to see familiar locations change so much almost makes me feel like a time traveler from science fiction stories."
"I think I know another that may share your sentiment," Yama observed, tilting her head back as if to acknowledge the man not far behind them. She offered one of her signature smiles before she gently knocked one of her shoulders against Nomble's own and turned to step back towards their make-shift camp, "Come now. We should introduce ourselves to our Lost Wolf."
As Yama approached the shielded dome under which White Wolf was standing, Nomble felt certain Yama had the beginnings of a plan. Of sorts. Considering how the rest of the day had gone and their present situation, Nomble was also not disinclined to discover what it was.
While similar situations in the past had been de-escalated through some combination of code words and Ayo's unspoken bond with White Wolf, it was readily apparent that their present situation was off the beaten path in more ways than one. The Soldier didn't speak Wakandan, shouldn't have known about the failsafe in the arm, and certainly shouldn't have been able to manipulate their technologies. But not only did those observations appear to be true for the man that they saw before them, but he showed decided distaste against Ayo, and Nomble was certain General Okoye as well. The two of them had been the only two present to ever speak the words to the Soldier, and if he believed they were HYDRA, then it was sensible that he would not be at-ease around them. Beyond Ayo's desire to ensure Shuri was properly guarded, Nomble felt certain that the unspoken reason this task had been passed to she, Yama, and Teela in particular was their propensity to find a way through the fog that surrounded the Wolf.
She did not think he knew Teela well, and perhaps her fresh eyes were a further boon to their cause. Though Nomble remained uncertain about what the future might hold, she was confident that she and Yama could figure out some way forward with him, no matter how small. But how? How did one build a bridge with someone who saw no value in connection? Who wished only to run?
To be free?
Nomble found that knowing what she did: she could not entirely blame him.
White Wolf hadn't said a word since the last ship had departed and showed no interest in conversing with any of them. When he found all three sets of eyes resting upon him, he took a moment to flex the fingers of his vibranium arm and then swing it around once. In response, the internal servos whirled audibly as they attempted to synchronize and recalibrate to the internal systems, and those that had fallen into a state of suspended disarray in the aftermath of the electrical surge their King had used to quell the fire in the Wolf.
As he regarded them, Nomble felt certain he was questioning how soon such measures would be used against him again to maintain his compliance.
Teela looked up curiously as Yama approached the edge of the shield and leaned casually against the shaft of her spear before she addressed the man inside, "I do not know how well acquainted we are, but I am Yama," she gestured to Nomble "This is Nomble," then to Teela, "And this is Teela. What name do you wish us to call you by?"
Interesting. So Yama did not believe that simply because he wished Sam to call him by 'Barnes,' that others should feel permission to as well? She instead thought it wise to assume nothing, and seek to earn the knowledge and consent of whatever name he wished them to address him.
White Wolf didn't answer, he just watched her warily with those icy blue eyes of his. Nomble had hoped that the location might've somehow soothed him or made him more willing to converse with them, but that didn't appear to be the case. His focus shifted to Teela, then to Nomble, and as she met his eyes, she had to resist the urge to look away. How alien that tight and empty expression was on his face after seeing him the night before as they sat and grieved together.
She wasn't sure what he was thinking, but she met his gaze and kept it steady on her own.
"You are testing us to see if you will be reprimanded for not answering my question," Yama cooly observed. "Well you need not be so unnecessarily melodramatic. If you wish to remain silent, you can, but it only means I will speak twice as much. Perhaps more."
It was hard for Nomble to resist a small roll of her eyes at Yama's own admittal for her propensity for filling silence with the sound of her own voice, but Nomble knew it was not the time.
White Wolf narrowed his eyes at Yama's declaration, but he said nothing as he watched her approach the nearest edge of the shield, "And I will make my intentions clear so you do not have to guess at it: I wish to see the wound on your foot tended to. It is a grievous injury that will not mend itself, and I have brought supplies to help instruct you how to see to it if you wish."
At the comment, White Wolf's eyes shifted to Teela, who had been present for the injury in-question, though Nomble knew she was not the cause of it. Teela swiftly came to her own defense, "None of us wish to raise weapons against you. We only acted out of necessity when lives like that of Sam Wilson were threatened."
White Wolf huffed out a scoff and turned his attention back to Nomble, clearly remembering her actions prior to when Sam was taken hostage. The wounded man kept his voice low as he narrowed his eyes and addressed her accusingly, "The two of you were back in that lab."
"Yes," Nomble admitted, "And we were taken by surprise. But the lab is a place of healing too."
White Wolf snorted derisively, and in response, Yama held out a hand in a casual gesture, "I think you do not like others telling you what to believe. I cannot prove to you that our intentions carry no malice, nor that the lab you glimpsed has aided yourself and others. But!" She held up a slender finger, and Nomble could see the visible shift in her friend as her tone grew pointed and direct, "You know your own body. Do you remember the nails?** That which we removed?"
Barnes wasn't sure what the woman who called herself Yama was trying to prove, but he felt the uneasy silence weigh upon him as her question floated in the air between them. He didn't move as she continued to speak, throwing out her questions as rhetoricals, "It is not an act of belief to know if they still press into you or not. Only you can know if they are still there."
He could feel the challenge present in her tone, and part of him wanted to remain still, to not play into her obvious attempt to manipulate him, but another part of him wondered what it would mean if she were right. If the nails were no longer there…
He stepped back, retreating further into the shielded area. Watching. Waiting. Bracing himself for something more. Some movement. Some word or distraction. A command. He knew exactly what her words implied, but he was forbidden to do so much as touch his own skin, no less the nails he knew were there. Doing so would result in a swift rebuke. In enrichment. Was she testing him? His compliance? His memory?
"Your body is your own," The one called Nomble added, taking a few soft steps in those strange split-toe boots of theirs to stand to Yama's left, "We will not reprimand you for your curiosity if you choose to either validate or invalidate our claim."
This was a trick. A test. But for what purpose? He was doing what he'd been asked to do. Were they simply toying with him for speaking out of turn?
"You do not need to seek our permission or blessing," Nomble added, keeping her eyes trained on his.
"And we will not command you," Yama stated, "because your will is and will remain your own."
Barnes narrowed his eyes at that claim but found his thoughts lingering around her statement that the nails had been removed. It wasn't possible. They were there not a day ago. He was certain of it.
Still, as her eyes laid a challenge bare between them, he found himself rolling his fingers testingly. Questioning his resolve. The implications of her claim.
He didn't move quickly. With great care, he took a step further away from them so he was sheltered under an overhanging of trees and slowly, carefully, moved his right hand towards the back of his head. Cautiously, testingly, he waited for the moment that one of these women who were not handlers, but he must treat as handlers retracted the permission latent in their statement and reprimanded him for his curiosity.
But no words came. No command.
He tried to pretend he didn't feel his fingers trembling as they made contact with his strangely short-cropped mess of bloodied hair. Cautiously, he delved deeper, running his fingertips gently across his scalp.
In the last week, he'd memorized the locations of the nail heads by heart. The tender spots where welted flesh was tapped with metal driven into his skull.
They lay hidden along his scalp like a field of constellations. Cruel contact points for the machines that haunted him and made his heart race in response for what they represented, for what they were capable of. But as his fingers searched for the first nail, the one closest to his ear, he felt nothing but a pucker of a scar. He adjusted the angle of his hand, running his confused fingertips over the spot he was certain it was supposed to be.
But there wasn't any sign of the warm, exposed metal head.
As his fingers searched for the next one, Yama continued speaking, "Those monsters that ensnared you put you through unspeakable horrors. They drove nails through your very skull so they could direct electricity to specific cortical neurons at-will. They did this to isolate parts of your brain in an attempt to modify your behavior, suppress your memories and emotions, and make you compliant so they could abuse you."
Barnes narrowed his eyes at that, doing his best to stay focused in the present, though his mind latched onto her words, struggling to weigh them against experiences he only barely remembered.
There were flashes of images. Sensations. Being strapped to a chair as the sound of drills rang in his ears. Surges of white-hot light and pain so intense it was all he could do to stay conscious.
He knew if he offered the right answers, they might stop. But he never seemed to have the right answers to their questions.
The whirl and scream of drills.
The charred scent of burnt flesh.
The searing pain that he thought would never end.
The questions just kept coming.
Flickers of sensation wrapped themselves around his mind, threatening in their piercing clarity of purpose.
Yama held up two fingers of her hand, "I cannot make you believe the candor in my words, but I can promise you the nails are no longer there, because I was there with Shuri when she removed them. All sixteen of them." Yama gestured in Nomble's direction, "Nomble was present to see them pulled free as well. We were also there as the chasms those cruel spikes left behind were mended with time, patience, and care."
Barnes could not read the woman's expression, but he wished he could. There was an intensity there, how she kept her eyes focused on his as she spoke while he wove his fingers through his short hair, trying to locate the heads of the remaining nails.
He found none.
Not a single one.
...How could that be?...
...They'd been there only yesterday. He was certain of it.
...If they were not there... and if not only that: but if where the incisions had healed over… it gave credence to the claim that time had passed.
Even still, such an observation didn't blindly make the rest of the claims true, "You're just trying to confuse me," he challenged.
"I am not the cause of your confusion," she stated firmly, tapping a finger to the side of her own head, "Others harmed you, tortured you, and even after we toiled to remove their web of poisoned handiwork, the damage your mind has suffered from those grievous injuries is not completely healed."
Yama rolled her palm face-up, gesturing it near the side of her head, "But based on facts you know to be true, on if the nails are still present: you need to choose to believe it is the day after you last recall it is, or it is not. If it is not, then perhaps it is time to reconsider the assumptions you've made. You've already done this once already, I think."
He didn't need to respond, because Yama continued, as if she enjoyed the sound of her own voice, "You went from presuming one thing about Sam and willingly, terribly injuring him, to wishing to see those same injuries healed. That tells me you are capable of reconsidering your beliefs, much as I have chosen to reconsider my beliefs about you."
Barnes narrowed his eyes at her. He knew she was the one who had volunteered to help Sam Wilson with his own injuries, but he wasn't sure what to make of that even expression of hers. She didn't look away when he focused on her and struggled to pick apart her words and look for cracks in her statement.
"You caged me," he leveled. "If this was all about 'rescuing' Sam, then why am I here?"
"Because your violent behavior threatens many more than yourself," Teela pointedly offered. "You have injured many people today, and your mind is not well. It is not as if you were inclined to talk civilly when you sparred with my sisters."
"You attacked me first," Barnes stated plainly. For all their paltry words, he remained certain this was a ploy of some sort. He couldn't explain the absence of the nails, but that didn't make these people his benefactors. As he'd learned before: Nails and pins could always be replaced. Trust could be feigned.
"We reacted to protect ourselves and those we care about," Nomble observed. Her voice was softer than the other two women, and Barnes turned his attention to her, "Like the others, I took no joy in it, but I did not seek to gravely injure you, and I think you did not wish to gravely injure us. I wonder if you have considered why."
The truth of the matter was: He hadn't considered that particular question. "You wanted to take me alive," he leveled, "I don't have any value to you if I'm dead."
Nomble shrugged lightly, subtly changing the subject, "But we would have been unable to pursue you if you had sought to kill us. You did not."
The truth was: Barnes didn't have a clear understanding of why he hadn't chosen to use lethal force on the pursuers he believed were HYDRA. He'd been trained to not leave witnesses. To shoot to kill.
Why hadn't he?
Had HYDRA put something in him to temper and control his actions? To prevent him from acting against his handlers and their allies with lethal force? He was certain he was missing something, "What was the meaning of the words you said to me outside the facility?"
Nomble blinked, but Barnes repeated the strange phrase she'd yelled out to him, "Ilya horyas men carë úvië ná i carë lúmenen yan me ná antaina."
The two other tribal-clad women looked between he and Nomble, and her posture shifted in response, "Your pronunciation is very good," she began in that strangely soft voice of her, "It's a quote from a book, The Fellowship of the Ring. It means 'All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.'"
He didn't recognize the title, "I know the translation of the words," he clarified, "But why did you say it to me?"
She opened and closed her mouth once before she found her voice, "It's hard to explain. It's a rare fictional language you and I sought to learn as a challenge. Sindarin. Grey-Elvish."
"Such nerds…" Yama remarked, though Barnes wasn't sure what her tone implied.
He chose to ignore her.
Nomble shot Yama a decided look but then returned her focus to him as he asked, "A fictional language? What purpose would that serve?"
"Little purpose," Nomble admitted, "But for the fun of it. It meant we could speak to one-another and not have our conversations be overheard. Like a private code of sorts."
Yama looked as though she considered saying something more, but Nomble pressed on, curiously, "Do you know it? Or are you simply reciting the words you heard me speak?"
"Im ista ten," he admitted. I know it. He didn't know why he knew it, but he did. While he didn't recall how or when he'd learned the language, he got the impression that his statement to Nomble was the correct answer.
And he didn't know what to make of that, nor the subtle expression she made with her face after he spoke the phrase.
When it became clear they might be here awhile, Yama saw to clearing out a greater area surrounding the dome so their view of White Wolf was not obscured, and that it might be safe to consider a campfire hours later once the sun drew low and the temperature dropped.
The man standing inside chose to stay silent as she and Nomble used their spears to clear bushes and detritus while Teela kept a watchful eye on their charge. He silently observed them, but Yama didn't miss that he was continuing to grow paler, and that as he stood, his balance was beginning to waver.
Nomble's repeated attempts to at least get him to eat or drink to replenish himself had borne no fruit. If Yama had to guess: it was because he believed they intended to drug his food to subdue him. While they planned no such thing, the longer that horrific injury on his foot was left untreated, the more Yama wondered what she might do if he collapsed outright. The fact that the damage was concealed within the hollow of his boot only led her mind to imagine what ills could be festering.
And then all at once: Yama had a plan.
A plan she was certain the General would not approve of, but... one she hoped Ayo might.
Nomble retained the almost supernatural ability to pick up on it the moment things coalesced in her mind, and her friend regarded her with something between curiosity and apprehension as she raised an eyebrow and inquired, "...what is that which is swimming through your head?"
Yama waved a hand as she pulled up her Kimoyo Beads and opened her palm, "I am still working on the details."
[Author's Note: The following exchange is offered as a series of text messages. It plays out much better with how I visually coded it if you want to look for this chapter over on AO3/Archive of Our Own.]
Yama:
Is Sam with you yet?
Ayo:
No, but he is in a waiting area with King T'Challa and Okoye.
Shuri is seeing to M'yra now.
Her injuries are quite extensive.
Shuri feels confident she will live, Bast willing, though her quality of life remains in question.
Yama:
I am sorry to hear that. I will keep her in my thoughts.
Our friend refuses food, water, and treatment.
I have something I would like to try, but I feel compelled to seek your blessing before I do.
Ayo:
You did not tell me what you plan to do.
Yama:
I would seek your willingness to be flexible with my activities when I am on-break from guard duty.
Ayo:
You are being unnecessarily obtuse.
Yama:
*Necessarily* obtuse.
Do Nomble and I have your permission to take a break from guard duty so we might help our friend?
Ayo:
...
Yes.
But be careful.
And do not involve Teela in your scheme.
Yama:
I am wounded that you would think me capable of a "scheme."
I am but your humble and obedient Lieutenant, Chief Ayo.
Ayo:
Go and help our friend before I change my mind.
Do not make me regret this decision.
Yama:
Thank you.
We will speak soon.
And then we may bask in the wake of my highly refined ingenuity.
Ayo:
Do not ask me to reserve a recovery room as recompense for your boldness.
Good luck.
May Bast offer you blessings and smile upon your "not-scheme."
As Yama lowered her wrist, she looked over to Nomble and offered what she hoped was a conspiratorial half smile, "Nomble: Ayo has told me that you and I are permitted to take a break from guard duty."
Nomble raised an eyebrow at the remark, but it was clear she understood the significance, and recalled the last time she had received such specific prompting.
In the aftermath of the fateful challenge between N'Jadaka, the man who called himself 'Killmonger,' and T'Challa, the Dora Milaje and the King's Guard were to remain loyal to the throne as it passed from one king to the next. At the time, all were unaware that T'Challa had survived being thrown from Warrior Falls, but it was clear that members of the prior royal family and their allies were in great danger, so they made haste to escape before Killmonger could claim them as trophies and spoils of war.
Neither Okoye nor Ayo could order their charges to act in a way that could be perceived as benefitting the prior royal family, but Ayo was clever, and she saw fit to gently...skirt around… the technicalities by telling Yama, Nomble, and Tasdi they were released from duty for a time to tend to "their mutual friend."
In short order, the three of them had chosen, independently of course, to hurriedly and somewhat haphazardly release Bucky from a deep freeze so they could usher him to caring hands that would hide him and keep him safe while civil war brewed on the horizon.
Then they returned to their next scheduled shift, allowing them to be present and accounted for during the later fight on the mountain the next day.
So as Yama regarded Nomble, she was certain her longtime friend drew upon the unspoken subtext in her offering to temporarily remove herself from guard duty.
Teela shifted in place as she regarded them, "And I?"
"I am not to involve you in my scheme. Ayo's words, not mine," Yama clarified.
"Then I shall not be involved," Teela agreed, and Yama felt certain she would not, though she was understandably curious what they were up to.
Did this make Teela part of their adoptive 'pack' now as well?
Yama would have to consider that later when her heart wasn't racing so.
Yama took a deep breath and moved to stand a short distance away from the curved edge of the shield so that she was furthest from where White Wolf stood in the far corner. She faced him as boldly as she dared, "I have seen the violence you are capable of, and I would be lying if I claimed it does not give me pause. I do not have the enhanced strength and constitution that runs through your veins. I have only my teeth, armor, and claws." At this, Yama retracted her vibranium spear and placed it on the ground beside her. With methodical intention, she then used her fingers to undo the clasps on the plates of silver armor that shielded her shoulders, and placed them beside the compacted spear. When she was done with that task, she undid the clasps on her bracers and placed them atop the armor plates before adding, "And now I have not those. This is my way of showing you through intention that I trust you not to harm me."
Yama did her best to summon truth to her words, but she found it rather difficult when though uninjured, she knew what horrors the man in front of her was capable of inflicting when not in a healthy mindset. Her nerves questioned if her declaration of trust could have been more than a little misplaced.
The fact that she could see Nomble and Teela's hands tighten on their spears was not exactly encouraging to her own resolve.
As Yama sought to gather her wits about her like a kaleidoscope of startled butterflies, she reminded herself that both of the other Doras would be capable of remotely triggering the electrical node on the Lost Wolf's shoulder if he chose violence against her.
It wasn't exactly a comfort, especially considering what he was capable of given the opportunity.
Hopefully she didn't end up in Shuri's lab as well.
At least she'd be among good company.
She took a few steps to one side to pull out the medical equipment case and snapped it open so that the inside was facing their Lost Wolf, "These are medical supplies. As I have said to you before: my only wish is to see the wound on your foot tended to. I have spoken only truths to you, but I know that you have been met with pain and unspeakable horrors and have no reason to trust. But trust must start somewhere."
Yama raised both her palms to face up and tried to push away the nervousness she felt building within her, "Would you permit me to step inside the boundary if I promise not to approach you further? And would you choose not to harm me?"
"Yama…" Nomble began, but her concerned voice said nothing more as the Lost Wolf kept his eyes steady on Yama's own, breaking contact fleetingly to regard the medical kit beside her.
"I hold no ill-will and no tricks, and I will gladly leave the kit for you, if that is what you wish. But the wound you have is severe, and it brings me pain to see you suffering and the wound left untreated. I helped Sam, and I am happy to share what I know so you can treat it yourself, if need-be."
The Lost Wolf said nothing at first, but Yama didn't miss the glance he made to his ailing foot. He had to know how dire the injury truly was. "Fine," he intoned in a low voice that verged on threat, "But if you try and so much as touch me..."
"I will do nothing without your consent," Yama promised, hoping their exchange of words amounted to an accord.
She'd know soon enough.
And she hoped she wouldn't regret her bold plan. She knew she wouldn't hear the end of it if things went sideways.
Nomble figured out what Yama sought to do only a moment before Teela, and the two of them each took a step forward, as if hoping to negotiate with Yama to still her plan.
Instead, Yama did what she could to suppress the urge to take a deep breath as she stepped through the one-way boundary of the shield... and directly into the injured Wolf's den.
Yama only resumed breathing when she realized the man across from her hadn't moved. Slowly, she feigned what she hoped looked like ease and lowered herself to the ground where she stood. With practiced precision, she crossed her legs and settled, adjusting herself as she rotated the metal medical case so they could both see its contents. Then, with one smooth finger, she drew a line in the blood-soaked dirt so that it divided the inside of the dome roughly in half. The Lost Wolf didn't react as her finger scrawled across the soil, but he watched, tense and curious as she did, "What are you doing?"
"I have drawn a line. And as a show of trust, I will not cross it," Yama spoke very specifically before adding, "I would ask you to not cross it either. In doing so, you would show me you do not intend me harm."
He considered her statement from across the undulating orange dome, but said nothing.
"Do you know of the tale of the Mouse and the Lion?" Yama inquired, doing her best to keep her voice casual, though she feared the deep and all-encompassing tension in her body spoke otherwise.
Their Lost Wolf made a face before he deadpanned, "No."
"You look like someone who might enjoy the story," Yama observed, trying to make the prepared statement sound natural, "It is a fable. Nomble is very good at telling stories like it." And with that, Yama looked to Nomble, hoping she would firmly take the hint in both hands.
Instead, the expression Nomble offered her was something along the lines of 'What in the Orisha's name are you getting at, Yama? I swear, we are to have words when this is over...' yet all the same, Nomble did her best to play along, attempting a somewhat lopsided smile as she admitted, "I am rusty with such stories."
Yes: Nomble was destined to have words with her when this was over.
"Oh, I'm certain you remember well-enough," Yama waved away the concern before turning back to their Lost Wolf, "It will be easier if you sit. You need only remove your boot and sock so we can see what injury is beneath." Yama's words were for him, but she glanced briefly to Nomble as if asking her to begin her story.
He remained standing with his boot on as he looked between the three of them: Yama sitting cross-legged on the far side of the line drawn within the dome, Nomble stood a few steps outside of the shield with her spear beside her, and Teela looked between them as if Yama had grown a second head.
Nomble said something under her breath as she retracted her spear and put it aside, following Yama's lead. She cleared her throat and attempted to find her voice, "There once lived a Little Mouse," Nomble began, "She was not a particularly wise mouse," Yama felt certain Nomble's emphasis was for her, "but she was a quick and curious mouse."
"Then one afternoon while the Little Mouse was out looking for food, she spotted a great and Mighty Lion resting out among the thick grass of the savannah. Now the mouse knew the Lion was quicker than she, but when she noticed a sheaf of tender grain growing nearby, she was so overcome with the thought of how delicious it might taste that she scurried closer to get a better look."
"Just as she drew close to the grain, the Lion chanced to open an eye, and quick as anything, he pinned the brave but careless Mouse under one of his massive paws." At this, Nomble altered her voice so it took on a deeper, regal tone, and the sound of it drew a smile to Yama's face. It had not only been over five long years since she'd heard her dear friend step into such a performance, but she had not heard this particular spark of joy return to her voice in the time after she had carried so much private grief.
It was like watching her come alive.
Nomble leaned forward, intent on the story opening up before her, "'Little Mouse,' the Lion decreed, 'You dare disturb my pleasant slumber?'"
She adjusted her voice higher as she spoke for the terrified mouse, adding an almost storybook inflection to the dialogue she recited, "'Mighty King, I did not mean to disturb your slumber! I was merely hungry. If you would take mercy on me and let me go, I would swear to you a favor in exchange for my life!'"
Yama was fairly certain Nomble wasn't aware of what her hands were doing as she spoke, but she rolled them in front of her, as if miming a performance, "The Lion chortled at the ridiculousness of such a claim, 'A favor? From you? I am King of all you see. Every tree. Every watering hole. Every blade of grass. What value could a little mouse like you ever offer me as a favor?'"
"'You will never know if you eat me now, Mighty King. But I swear to you that I will keep my promise,' said the Little Mouse."
Nomble's voice returned to pose as the story's narrator, "The Lion considered the mouse's words. He had seen and heard many things in his long life, and though he didn't know what use a mouse's favor could be, he decided such a small meal was beneath him, and that he would let her live." Nomble raised one hand as a conductor might, "He lifted his great paw and spoke, 'Then you may go. And you may take your meal with you.'"
"And with that, the Little Mouse dipped her head respectfully to the Lion, stuffed as much grain as she could carry into her mouth, and scurried off."
When Nomble stopped speaking and silence hung in the air for longer than the tale necessitated, their Lost Wolf saw fit to ask, "Then what? What happened to the mouse?"
Yama looked conspiratorially to Nomble, and she could tell by Nomble's expression that her friend had latched on to Yama's play. "May I enter the shielded area so I might tell the second half of the story? I will share in Yama's promise to stay on this side of the line that divides us."
Their Lost Wolf looked between the two of them, as if set on determining their intentions, but his curiosity must have gotten the better of him, because he gestured her forward impatiently, "And then?" He pressed.
Nomble stepped through the shield and settled to Yama's left, drawing herself atop her knees as she situated herself and got comfortable. Surprisingly, the Lost Wolf sat down across from her as she did, as if joining the session by proxy.
Nomble tried not to react to his actions as she continued with the story, summoning her best narrator's voice, "Months passed, and now and again the Little Mouse would see the Mighty King. At first she was cautious, fearing he might break his promise in pursuit of an easy meal, but he did no such thing. He would allow her near so she could nibble at tender greens and fine grains, and when the hawk-eagles would fly overhead, he would stretch himself,'" Nomble extended her hands, miming a feline's languid poise, "To grow his mighty shadow so the Little Mouse could scurry into hiding and evade their keen eyes. While she waited for the birds of prey to tire in their fruitless hunt, she would tell the Mighty King about the many things she'd seen: The tales she'd heard on the wind, and the sweetness of a mouse's experiences that were so very different from the lion's own."
"The months drew on, until one day the land was parched, and food was growing scarce. The next time the Mighty Lion saw the Little Mouse, he told her she would do well to travel East, to where he'd heard the Summer rains still offered a bounty to the land." Nomble drew up her kingly voice as she spoke, "'You are absolved of your favor, Little Mouse. Go in peace and in good health,' proclaimed the Lion."
"She left?" the Lost Wolf questioned, confused.
"She left," Nomble confirmed in her own voice before she continued in her sprawling narrator's guise, "And the Little Mouse travelled to the sprawling green meadows the Mighty Lion told her about. She lived happily there for a few weeks, until she overheard the pied crows gossiping to one another," Nomble adjusted her voice, transforming it into a shrill caw, "'Did you hear of discontent to the West? The Lion's pride wanes because their King had grown weak and lame.'"
"The Little Mouse knew she was absolved from her favor, but she wished to know if the pied crows spoke of the Mighty King she knew, so she journeyed West to see what she could find."
"When she returned to the place she knew, she saw the Lion limping ahead of her before he settled into the tall, dry grass and licked at his left paw. He looked thinner than she remembered, but she was a brave mouse so she called out to him as she approached, 'Mighty King,' she said, in her strongest voice, 'I heard word on the wind that there was discontent in these lands, and that its King had grown lame. I came to see if there was anything I could do to help.'"
"The Lion was surprised to see the Little Mouse, and he regarded her curiously as she approached and seated herself in front of his great paws, 'You have come all this way to check on me? Even though you owe me no favors?'"
"'I have,' The Little Mouse confirmed, 'for it was what I know to be the right thing to do.'"
"The Mighty King considered this. 'But you know I am tired, lame, and hungry. What makes you think I would not simply take the opportunity to eat you?'"
"'If I did not know you, I might be afraid, Gentle King,' the Little Mouse admitted, 'but I have watched you over months. I know that you have sharp teeth and fearsome claws, but I have seen you use them to defend those you hold dear. I do not think you would use them against me when I come to you now to see if I might help you.'"
"The Lion considered her words as he turned over his left paw, revealing a terrible wound that had grown from there a cruel thorn that had snarled and festered into the tender pads of his mighty paw. He held it out to the Little Mouse so he could see this wound he hid from others out of shame, 'I have tried all I know to remove the thorn,' he admitted, 'but its barb holds firm, and it digs only deeper as I try to free myself from its snare.'"
The Brave Mouse scurried atop his paw. She could feel the lion's eyes on her, feel his hot breath as she inspected it, 'My eyes are close to it, so I can see what you cannot. Mighty King, may I try to loosen the barb from you? It may hurt, but I will try my best.'"
"The Mighty King chuckled weakly, impressed by the small creature's will, 'I have tried many times and failed. I do not think a Little Mouse such as yourself would be able to do what I cannot.'"
Yama stayed silent, watching out of the corner of her eye as their Lost Wolf listened with almost reverent rapture to Nomble's dedicated retelling of the fable, "'I may fail,' the Little Mouse acknowledged, 'but I will not know unless I try. And I wish to try, because I wish to see you freed from this thorn that pains you so.'"
"The Mighty Lion was impressed with the Little Mouse's resolve, 'Then try. I promise no harm will come to you.'"
"And so the Little Mouse did. She summoned all her strength and pulled and pulled. And when the thorn did not budge, she grabbed ahold of the thorn with her teeth, and used her body to tug on the troublesome thorn. Just when she thought there was nothing more that she could do, she felt the great thorn shift, and she squirmed and struggled, using her tiny fingers to help part the angry flesh. With a final heave, the thorn at-last came free in the Lion's palm!"
"The Mighty Lion flexed his paw and regarded it in astonishment, 'You have done the impossible! How can I ever repay you, Brave Little Mouse?'"
"'I did not come because I owed you a favor, or because I wished to earn your favor,' the Brave Little Mouse replied, 'But because I did not want to see my friend in pain or distress when I might help.'"
With that, Nomble sat back, gesturing her hands open before her as her best attempt at a storyteller's voice concluded, "And with that, the Brave Mouse and the Mighty Lion lived out the rest of their days knowing that friendship, while a fickle and curious thing, could sometimes sprout from the most unexpected sources, and that one should not underestimate the value of a Brave Little Mouse." Yama did not miss the small smile that crested the corner of Nomble's mouth as she concluded her story.
Yama turned her attention to regard Lost Wolf before her. The man's expression was difficult to parse as he silently eyed his own bleeding foot. "I know what you're trying to do," his voice challenged, but the tone was more tempered than before.
Nomble shrugged her shoulders easily, "It is only a story. Nothing more. Nothing less. That is the wonderment of such tales: That you might find movements that resonate with you, and make you see the world with new eyes."
Yama did her best to share in the casual nature of Nomble's tone, "And I only wish to offer you the same aid I've spoken of before," She gestured to the line drawn between them, "I can see things you cannot, for I have spent a great deal of time studying medicines and techniques so I might help others with their wounds. I am content to instruct you on what you can do to tend to your foot, but I would be remiss if I did not tell you that I would be better suited to help because of my skills, experience, and the precarious location of your injury." Yama shrugged, "But I will do nothing without your consent. And I will not cross that line of trust between us. But if you so choose to extend your foot across the boundary, I will do everything in my power to ease your pain and mend your foot to the best of my ability."
Their Lost Wolf appeared to consider her proposal carefully. He didn't say a word, but his eyes travelled between Teela, Nomble, and Yama as he deliberated. Then slowly, carefully, he tucked-in his bad leg so he could untie the laces on his boot. Like a wary, wounded predator, his hands were tense and calculated as he pulled open the tongue and laces of the boot. With great effort, he slipped his foot out of the blood-slicked leather.
The sock that Yama saw inside may have been white in another life, but it was soaked through with so much blood that she wasn't entirely certain what she was looking at until the Lost Wolf gritted his teeth and slowly, painfully, peeled off the sock as well, discarding it on the crimson-soaked dirt nearby.
Only then could Yama see the extent of his ghastly injury.
His foot was sliced clean through. Split open a cruel, straight line that ran between his toes to nearly his ankle. Yama not only couldn't imagine the immeasurable amount of blinding pain he was in, but the fact he'd been willing to bear weight on such an injury at all. She was faintly aware of Nomble making a quiet sound from off to her left, but Yama decided to keep her eyes focused forward on the Lost Wolf so he was certain of her resolve.
And like the Brave Little Mouse from Nomble's fable, she was certain of her resolve.
He didn't say anything as he breathed heavily and choked on a gasp of air as he regarded the injury. His wild eyes glanced between his garish foot and the medical kit as he considered his options. "And you can help? Like you helped Sam?"
"I can," Yama said with more confidence than she altogether felt in that moment. She could not make the foot whole again like Shuri could with her advanced tech and her synthetic skin replication and printing assemblage, but she could help, "But I will do nothing you do not consent to. Your body is your own. And so your choices for your body are your own."
"I don't like people touching me," he said as a statement of fact in a tone that was new, though not accusatory nor threatening.
"I will not touch you if you do not wish it, but your wound needs attention, regardless of who sees to it."
He said nothing.
"I am going to touch my Kimoyo Beads so I can pull up a medical display," Yama said slowly. When the Lost Wolf did not object, she did so, opening her palm and rolling over a menu that detailed the anatomy of a foot along with links to associated journal entries regarding various approaches depending on the type of trauma the extremity had been subjected to.
The Lost Wolf appeared to consider her words as he looked between the display and what Yama hoped was her own steadfast expression. Then slowly, carefully, he used his arms and his intact foot to scoot himself closer to the hand-drawn line dividing the dome in half. Yama felt her breath hitch in anticipation as he paused for a long moment as his body neared the boundary. Yama swore she heard the forest grow silent in shared camaraderie as the man before her cautiously extended his injured foot so it lay on Yama and Nomble's side of the dividing line, eyeing them warily as he did.
The tension between them was thick, and Yama didn't miss how Teela repositioned herself so that she would be ready to react at a moment's notice if the Wolf chose to lunge for either Yama or Nomble. Teela wasn't the only one whose nerves were heightened: Every bit of Yama's combat training insisted the skilled opponent before her was wound so tightly that one wrong move could be her last.
Slowly, she telegraphed her movements and pulled a Kimoyo Bead from her wrist, holding it between her fingers, which she bid not to tremble, "This bead is a special medical bead. It is capable of helping numb the pain so I can better clean the wound and prepare it for stitches. May I touch it to your skin?"
Their Lost Wolf deliberated over her words and glanced between her and Nomble cautiously, then nodded once. Carefully, Yama positioned the bead so it was close to his ankle and toggled the mechanism, pressing the bead so it came into gentle contact with Barnes's flesh. He tensed as a shimmer of purple energy sprouted out into his nerves, but visibly relaxed as a sizable portion of the pain was suppressed. Yama was aware of the soft breath he let out as his blue eyes steadily regarded her, looking for any signs that she planned to fool him or renege on her offer. She did her best to ignore it as she rummaged in the medical box beside her for an antiseptic spray. She removed the cap and showed it to him, "This is a medical spray that will help clean the wound and prevent infection. It will feel cool, and might sting slightly. May I spray it on your foot?"
He considered this question for noticeably less time than the first question, and nodded his head again, prompting her to continue. Carefully, she applied the spray to the top of his foot, and made a gesture with her hand, "Can you lift your foot higher so I can get the underside? Once you do, avoid letting the wounded portion touch the dirt."
He did as requested, and Yama tried to keep her wits about herself as she prepared to ask the next question, which was due to be the riskiest yet. It was as if all the world around her faded out, and she was left simply regarding the man in front of her: the man with her friend's blue eyes. "I would like to clean the wound now so I can prepare it for stitches. May I use my hands and the sterile gauze to do so?"
Yama expected him to look down at his foot before making his decision, but instead, he kept his wary eyes focused exclusively on hers. The weight of his immutable expression was heavy, and his crystal-blue eyes darted back and forth to regard each of her own, looking for cracks, for anything that might tell him she meant to fool him and do him harm.
So as she sat and waited, she met his eyes and pulled strength into herself as she raised her chin and unwaveringly held his gaze. She could not know what he saw, but she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this was not a time for her words, but for presence. That he should see her and the profound resolve she felt deep within her.
I know you. I trust you. And you will know me.
He was first to break the contact as he found his voice again and offered simply, "Okay."
Though he did not say it out loud, allowing her to touch his wounded foot, to tend to it with reverent regard was a profound act of trust. He didn't even flinch as she gently used squares of sterilized gauze and cleaned around the wound. Oddly, she found the tension she felt only moments before evaporated away entirely as they sat in shared silence. He was no longer on-edge, waiting for a snare to come. Instead he was attentive, cautious, confused by the unsung accord latent between them.
"Why are you doing this?" He asked, his voice wasn't as harsh as it once was. "You could just have electrocuted me and done it while I was unconscious."
Yama shrugged easily as she continued her work, "Because I have witnessed compassion in you, and wish for you to know it as well." She paused, adding, "And because I am stubborn. As you are."
"She is stubborn," Nomble agreed, and Yama didn't miss the small, private smile she held for her when she glanced over.
Yama turned her attention back to her work, feeling the remaining tension drain out of her as she asked the figure in front of her, "Would you like another story, Nameless? Nomble knows a sweeping tale about a mysterious black dragon named Toothless and a young Viking that I think you would enjoy."
The man she was tending to shifted his hands behind him, as if settling into a more comfortable position while she worked. He looked between the three women, and even Yama caught sight of Teela stepping to take up a more casual roost atop a nearby log.
She was smiling too.
"Barnes," the man before them gently corrected. "You can call me Barnes."
"Barnes," Yama accepted the gift of his name, "It is nice to meet you."
This man before her would know kindness and the meaning of their 'Ukupakisha ibhondi,' regardless of whatever name he chose to go by.
And that was simply how Yama decided it was going to be.
Author's Remarks:
I had the immense pleasure of working with Ellarie_png on a piece of art she created to go along with a scene from this chapter. Please check out this chapter on Archive of Our Own to see the art and link to her Instagram to see more of her incredible art!
And *huge* thanks to her for bringing this particular moment to life in full-color.
Simply search for: "KLeCrone Ao3 Winter of the White Wolf"
** - Re: Nail Thing - So as you can probably tell by now, I really enjoy trying to interweave my story with established MCU canon, and this "nail thing" is (for better or worse) *not* something entirely of my own invention. It's pulled from a small image in the Marvel Studios Visual Dictionary that displays the inside of the red codebook…. Complete with a diagram of cortical neurons with a nail driving through the layers. I have to imagine that the machines were set up to drive electricity to certain isolated areas of his brain and just… goddamn it, HYDRA. :(
I took a scan of it and uploaded on the chapter posting on Ao3 it here if you're curious to see it for yourself.
* Isalamane Sentliziyo - Wakandan Translation: Kin of the Heart
* Ukupakisha ibhondi - Wakandan Translation: Pack Bond
While this chapter isn't *exactly* a bucket of comfort, I'd like to think it has some things moving solidly in the right direction. It's also nice to have a "quieter" scene focused on Barnes, Yama, Nomble, and Teela, where you can see a bit more of their personalities come into focus outside of the surrounding chaos. Yama's medical training? Nomble and Bucky's love of stories? It's all nestled here.
I *love* the power of shared storytelling, and there is something magical to me about the idea of Nomble sort of coming out of her shell and back to life as she's drawn into the performance of the moment, no-doubt hopeful some part of it might break through to her Isalamane Sentliziyo.
One of my goals for the closing scene of the chapter was to try to hit that very particular story beat of the scene from "How to Train Your Dragon" when Toothless first reaches out his head so it can make contact with Hiccup's outstretched hand. I loved the idea of the subtle parallel here where Barnes, who probably hasn't known a moment of kindness in the last 70+ years, is showing just this flickering ember of trust that is so foreign to him it's almost unrecognizable. And he's not showing it because someone convinced him he's "Bucky" or tried to coax him into "remembering:" I'd like to think it's because someone acknowledged not only his unspoken (and up until this point: mostly private) pain, but also his propensity for compassion. That's something he might not have even recognized in himself up until this point.
And that same person believes *he's* worthy of compassion too?
That's certainly something for his cyborg brain to chew on.
This is a living, breathing story, and I want to thank all of you for such wonderful thoughts and conversations. I'll say it once and a hundred times more: your comments, kudos, and encouragement continue to be a light in the darkness, especially during some particularly difficult RL weeks here. Thank you for sharing the continued journey of this story with me.
Written to "Forbidden Friendship," by John Powell, from the "How to Train your Dragon" Soundtrack and "Saturn (Instrumental)," by Sleeping At Last.