Loki: Winds of Winter

Chapter 54 - Casual Conversation

Bucky glanced around the pitched tents of the Wolves of Westeros, listening to the hum of voices. It reminded him too much of World War II and he felt this constant itchy feeling on his skin like ants. Should this familiar feeling comfort him? He felt it should, but it was not. Glancing around, he saw a small group of Wildlings conversing with Frank Castle. The Punisher seemed to rather like the brutal honesty of the Free Folk. Eddie Brock maintained his position as traveling journalist, but, whenever Ragna needed him, he would become Venom. Bucky Barnes avoided the Hound as much as possible but was friendly enough with Bronn. The former sells-sword was usually quick to offer a drink or some witty tale of his adventures in Westeros. However, that night, he was out 'cavorting' or as Ragna would say, 'asking to get his cock and balls hacked off should his wife find out.' 

The Wolves of Westeros had moved positions from nearer to the Pyrenees to closer to Bordeaux, but not near the city itself. They were far enough away to avoid prying eyes, which is what Ragna wanted. She wanted media attention when it counted. When it did not matter, she wanted to shoo the flies away. Bucky turned around and walked up the slope that overlooked the camp. The wind caressed his face and Bucky could almost swear that he smelt the sea. He heard a humming sound and turned around, seeing Ragna sitting with her back to the camp a few yards away from him, a melody coming from deep in her throat. She seemed so relaxed, more relaxed than he was used to seeing her. Ragna was wearing a white shift with no shoulders, her feet bare, and her skin its Jotun color. Her red hair was loose, and she was nursing a mug of ale. Bucky paused, wondering if she knew of his presence. "I know you're there, Barnes. You might as well sit and join me," Ragna said. She sounded... tired? Barnes sat down beside her and watched her closely. The light of the moon made her simple appearance ethereal and alluring. Bucky could see certain... outlines... in the haze of the moon's rays.

"I didn't know you were out here," he admitted. Ragna smirked a little and took a sip from her mug.

"Nobody knows I'm out here. I dismissed Clegane for the night and then made my merry way on up here," Ragna responded. She took another sip before passing it on to Bucky. The Winter Soldier paused before accepting the wooden cup and taking a long draught from him. He coughed a little but was otherwise unaffected. "It is peaceful up here. If you really test your senses, you can hear the animals crawl through the grass, and you can smell the sea. I was born near the sea. Father said the day I and Rhaenar arrived in Kings Landing, our Aunt Daenerys was crowned, and Odin came crashing down into Westeros. He said my mother stood up before the All-Father. My mother has risen in the defense of many of our blood, but... I always feel hesitance directed at me. Why? I am her daughter," Ragna said and Bucky realized that she was upset. This was Ragna being upset. She was still so calm and seemingly tranquil; yet Bucky could sense a storm below the surface. "You think of me as abhorrent," Ragna suddenly stated and Bucky was mildly affronted that she assumed that.

"Possibly... when we first met... I did. When the Short Rebellion was explained to me, I felt anger at what happened to those children. What you had those parents do to their own children," Bucky admitted and Ragna chuckled dryly. 

"I think that is when my mother realized that she had given birth to a monster," Ragna said as she raised her hand and looked up at the moon through her fingers. Her nails were dark in Jotun form and the faint heritage lines could be seen. Bucky looked at her and shook his head.

"You're not a monster. And I'm sure that your mother does not consider one of her own children a monster. I'm sure that if my mother was alive and knew the things I'd done, she would still love me," Bucky said. Ragna glanced at him, her eyes narrowing slightly. 

"Your mother was not the daughter of a great house, with such responsibility on her shoulders. My mother was destined to marry a king, until he turned out to be an inbred bastard. And then my father stepped in. Mother has curbed his more violent tendencies to the best of her ability; but if anything happened to one of our family, she was the cruel and violent one. I look like her, but I am more like my father. However, I have something of both their spiteful natures within me. I don't think Mother can handle that. I once heard a servant whispering that I reminded some people of the 'Mad Stag'," Ragna said and Bucky winced. Bronn had had a few choice and disgusting words to say with regards about the little brat in question, and they were not nice. 

"You do not deserve to be compared to that little whelp! You are a great general! You've led men! You are a statesman!" Bucky said before he bit his lip, wondering where that outburst had come from. It seemed so out of place with him. Ragna chuckled and took the mug of ale back. She downed the rest of it and smacked her lips. 

"It would seem that the aged Valhallan has loosened your tongue, Barnes. You should drink more often," she said as she stood up. Ragna seemed to sway a second and Bucky was quick to leap up and catch her around her waist. His metal hand rested easily on her hip and being this close, Bucky looked down at her. Her crimson eyes were luminous and seemed to reflect the stars. Bucky felt something stir within him. He had lain with women before WWII, during WWII, and as the Winter Soldier (as a reward). However, he did not recall feeling this pull to any other woman before. This heat coiling within his veins and this urge to devour somebody. Her in particular. Ragna's hand reached up and lightly danced up his metal arm."It is so strange, is it not? That something capable of snapping a man's neck could be so gentle," she stated. Ragna smiled at Barnes and pulled away slowly. She gave him a curtsy and walked down the hill back towards the camp. Bucky watched her gracefully exit before looking back towards the moon. Its cold rays had made her seem so warm, yet so distant and above him. 

How can she seem so much better than others, and yet seem so human? he contemplated.