Widow of Siberia

Phase 1 - Chapter 1

2025

The mansion that had been gifted to the Winter Guard by the Russian government adhered to all of the members' needs. They had a training area, living spaces, private rooms and a communications room. Laynia Petronova, the Darkstar, admired the classical Russian architecture and decor as she walked through the living room, just exploring her new home. The warm glow of the lamp lights trickled over the dark wood panelling on the walls, a smell of old leather drifted through the air as only the thuds of footfalls of tired soldiers returning home could be heard in the quiet house. 

As she turned, stroking her fingers across the soft leather of the sofa, Laynia jumped at the sudden sight of the hooded scarlet figure of the Red Widow.

“Jesus,” she hissed, flinching away from her eerily still team mate, “this is a safe space, you don’t have to be so fucking creepy all the time.”

“Laynia, just because the last mission is over only means the next one has already started,” the Red Widow’s muffled voice spoke through her mask as she stayed statue-like in the corner of the room.

Laynia sighed and ran a hand through her blonde hair as she calmed her breathing from her shock, “are you going to tell us your name? Krasnyy is a great code name, but is it the only name you have? Because I’m starting to think you’re a robot.”

Pulling the loop at the end of her sleeve off off her thumb, the Red Widow tugged her black glove from her hand revealing a calloused and scarred hand underneath. “I am human. Krasnyy is not my name.”

“Are you going to tell me what it is?”

“No.”

Darkstar smiled in confused amusement as the Red Widow turned and walked out of the room, leaving her alone. She could be difficult to work with but she was efficient and Laynia couldn’t help but feel like there was a deep sadness in her voice sometimes when she spoke. 

A hand hit her shoulder suddenly, breaking her train of thought. Laynia turned to see her twin brother, Nikolai Krylenko, Vanguard, standing behind her.

“What did the Widow want?” he asked, pulling his mask from his head, letting his messy, blonde hair loose.

“No idea,” Laynia replied, rubbing at her eyes a little with exhaustion from finishing the last mission, “I’m going to bed.”

She followed behind Mikhail Ursus, Ursa Major, who was pulling his beanie down over his eyes after a long day of being in his bear transformation. The team very rarely stayed together for long but the time they did spend together led to them being quite comfortable around each other, only the Red Widow seemed to keep up appearances in private.

#####

Swords and knives covered the walls of the Red Widow's room, blades stabbed into them. The only piece of furniture she had was a mattress that lay on the floor with a blanket and pillow folded neatly at the top. Alone at last, Vienna pulled the red hood down and took off the two parts of her mask. The Red Widow stared at the deep scars that covered the area around her eyes, the harsh glare threatened tears as she looked at herself in the mirror that hung on the only clear bit of wall. Scar tissue and healing wounds obscured her eyes like a mask, making her a stranger to anyone who knew her before but the most recognisable face in a crowd to any stranger. 

It hadn't been long since her last mission with the Red Room. Infiltrating the traitors trying to take down the remaining branches had been a failure. Her own fault for getting sentimental. Vienna's mind was still foggy from the Red Room's Mind Oven but she could still see their faces so clearly. Her face. 

Hot tears fell from Vienna's eyes and her hand instantly shot to her face, wiping them away. If her handlers found out she was still in a place of such turmoil she would be subjected to more conditioning, and there was nothing she wanted less. 

#####

2000

"Look Nat!" 

Vienna spun as she showed her sister the new ballet steps she had learned.

The ballet wasn't all that important, except for fitness and form, even then they got that training elsewhere. It was just a front. The Red Room trained assassins. Spies. But Vienna liked to dance.

Natasha clapped as Vienna landed perfectly on her toes and took a bow. On the technical side of things; the fighting, the shooting, the acrobatics, she was brilliant. Hard working and extremely talented. But when it came to practical application, Vienna froze, everytime.

"You should practise your English Vienna," Natasha said as she pushed off the wall, she then switched to Russian so that Vienna could understand her better, "I know you find it hard but you must learn."

"Stupid," Vienna said in English, her soft Russian accent distorting the word slightly, "backwards language."

Natasha laughed as the young girl frowned up at her, "I know."

She put a hand on top of Vienna's head, making the little one smile again. It was strange having just the two of them after over three years with a third sister making them laugh. 

"How are you doing since Yelena left?" Natasha asked, gently pinching Vienna's cheek, making her face screw up.

"I don't know," Vienna shrugged, her smile faltering ever so slightly as she looked up at Natasha, "It is quiet at night."

Natasha nodded, holding Vienna's face in her hands as they stood in a brief moment of privacy. 

“I know we're not supposed to,” Natasha said softly, stroking her thumbs on Vienna's cheeks before letting her go, “but I'm going to miss her too, sunshine.”

Her lip quivering, Vienna nodded. "Do you know where she is?"

Natasha shook her head. “We probably won't ever know. We need to focus on ourselves, and what we can grab with our hands. She's too far away to help now.”

"But we don't need help,” Vienna raised an eyebrow at Natasha as she watched her sister wander towards the edge of the room. The redhead had a habit of listening for footsteps outside the door. “We are in the greatest institute in the world. Silent heroes.”

Natasha hummed, not saying anything as she nodded in an automatic agreement. It was what they were taught. What they were always taught. 

"If only you could keep that resolve in your tests,” Natasha chuckled in a very forced way, “You couldn't shoot again.”

"How do you do it so easily?" Vienna asked, looking into Natasha’s eyes with a pleading worry. 

"Practise, sunshine," she smiled sadly, not wanting to damage the innocence that Vienna had but knowing that it had to happen, "you'll get better at it."

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2025

Waking up with a start, Vienna felt as though she could hardly breathe. Her head throbbed and the still healing wounds around her eyes ached. Clutching at her face, she curled up into a ball on the thin mattress. She had been a naive child and she was suffering for it as an adult.