A Fairy Tale (Steve/Bucky, G)
Aug. 3rd, 2016 10:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fannishlissThis is for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
milly_gal, who encouraged me to write the whole story about Bucky and his wings. Hugs to you BB!
====
Once upon a time, a young soldier went out into the world to seek his fortune.
He did not meet an old woman along the road; he never got a chance to carry a fairy’s burden. He did not find a fish flopping on the edge of a lake; he never got a chance to take pity on the poor creature and earn three wishes. He did not find a lamp or free a genie. He did not pull a thorn from a lion’s paw.
The young soldier was an excellent marksman. His superiors gave him a rank and sent him to war.
The soldier was captured. The captors treated the men brutally, and the ones who were taken away never returned. He became one of those men who was taken away. They marched him to a room and strapped him to a table. They did things that left him sick and in pain, but somehow he survived.
One thing gave him peace in the midst of war: he had left his true love safe at home.
But lying there on the table, the soldier looked up to see his beloved, grown healthy and strong. All the magic that had never saved him before, had brought his true love to him at the very hour of his darkest need.
With a tender embrace, his true love lifted him off the table, fought a demon, led him through hell, and brought him back to life.
The soldier led the cheer when the prisoners returned, exulting, to their camp.
The story was not over. The war went on. The soldier’s love had become a mighty hero, big and strong, clever and daring, righteous and true. He won the heart of a virtuous woman. The soldier ached and held his peace, watching the back of his friend.
He fell, and he did not die.
He fell into hell, and the evil ones killed him again and again, and he could not die.
They tore his soul into pieces. He became little more than a puppet, and they held the strings. His friend was gone, the world moved on, and he slept and fought, killed and forgot, slept, remembered, fought, forgot.
All the magic in the world turned against him. The evil ones gave him a mighty arm, but he could only use it to kill. They kept him young, but he had no will of his own. He slept in a bed of solid ice, and shards of ice pierced his heart. They passed him through the fire and he came through it aching and empty. He was a wintry ghost, wielded by a terrible evil. He dreamed of a pair of blue eyes, a gleam of golden hair, and did not know what he dreamed.
At last, the day came when he finally woke up. The world fell to pieces all around him, and the golden-haired blue-eyed man was the only target he'd ever missed.
The soldier ran away, to hide and heal and dream back everything the evil ones had torn away from him.
The soldier learned how to think again: he chose where to sleep, what to wear, what to eat. He remembered things and wrote them down, precious gems from his stolen past.
Enemies came again to take up his strings, but his friend came too. His friend fought, and fought, and fought. Together they escaped to a kingdom ruled by a noble king, who vowed to keep him safe. He slept at last in peace, without fear, knowing his friend would not rest until the spells that bound him were undone.
He awakened to find that a powerful witch had cut the strings once and for all. The soldier was free at last!
His true love took the soldier into his arms. “Anywhere you wanna go, anything you wanna do, that’s what we’re gonna do, Buck,” his true love said.
Bucky pondered his own heart. He was tired and sad and felt guilty. But he had friends to help him get better. Even the man in the iron suit had changed his mind and said Bucky should be free. The whole world agreed that the evil things the Winter Soldier had done were not Bucky’s fault. He was truly free at last to seek his fortune, with his true love safe and strong by his side.
“Steve,” he said, “I wanna read books and listen to music and dance and watch movies. I wanna go to museums and travel and go to the beach and have picnics. I want to eat and drink and not worry about putting food on the table.”
“We can do that,” Steve said, nodding, all noble and serious like Bucky had always adored.
“I gotta tell ya…” Bucky said.
“Yeah?” Steve answered.
“I’m crazy about you, always have been,” Bucky admitted.
“I was kinda hoping that was the case,” Steve replied, “because I’m gone over you the same way. I saw it in your dreams, you know; Wanda and I had to look…”
Bucky thought Wanda was the very best kind of good witch; her gifts were good and kept getting better.
Bucky looked Steve in the eye and laid out his wishes. “I wanna sleep in the bed next to you. I wanna sit on the couch next to you. I wanna eat at your table, and sip from your cup.”
“Here I thought you were Snow White,” Steve laughed, “but it turns out you’re the Frog Prince.”
Bucky nodded. His smiles didn’t come as fast as they had in the old days. “That’s okay, I can be the Frog Prince, if it means you’ll kiss me.”
Steve kissed him, and the last shards of ice piercing his heart melted away.
“If you want to live on Coney dogs and ice cream, then that’s what we’ll do,” Steve said. “You deserve to take it easy for as long as you want, after all you been through.”
“I have to warn you though,” Bucky said. “My armor doesn’t always come off. The mask is still there most of the time. I don’t want you to think it’s your fault when you look over and my eyes are blank and dark.”
Steve laid his hand on Bucky’s neck and gripped him, just hard enough.
“I know it, Buck,” he said. “Mine doesn’t come off either. I gotta always be ready. With great power comes —“
“—great responsibility,” Bucky finished with him. “I read that one too.”
“But I want to help you take off your armor,” Steve said. “Like Jonathan and David.”
Bucky lifted his eyes, and Steve had no trouble seeing the love there. “We’ll take off each other’s armor sometimes, and help each other put it back on.”
Steve kissed him again, and their kisses went on for a while.
“I don’t want to always be the soldier,” Bucky whispered, scared and safe in Steve’s strong arms, “but I know I always will be the soldier. Even now I have a new arm, and I threw the muzzle into the river years ago, but somehow, it’s still there.”
Steve held him tight and kissed his temple. “You can be who you need to be, every minute, every hour, every day, and I’ll be who you need me to be, and you’ll be who I need you to be.”
“How can you be sure?” Bucky asked.
“You’ve always been exactly who I needed,” Steve insisted. “My whole life, when I had nothing else, I always had you, and that was enough. You’re my blessing, Bucky, already waiting for me the day I was born, weak and spindly, and you loved me anyway.”
“Punk,” Bucky whispered, remembering the incandescent beauty of that fiery little guy. He tried his kisses on Steve and they were nearly as sweet as Steve’s were to him.
“Sometimes,” Bucky said, “I wish I had wings.”
“Like Sam?” Steve asked.
“Not like Sam!” Bucky denied. “No, I mean fairy wings, gossamer things that unfold when you want to fly…”
“Huh,” Steve said. “I think there are a few folks out there like that these days, what with the Terrigenesis…”
“Well, I guess I don’t want them for real,” Bucky said. “I want to not be a soldier, and be a fairy sometimes.”
“Like, the fairies down the street, back in the day?” Steve asked.
“Yeah,” Bucky breathed, a huge rush of something magical thrilling him with Steve’s understanding.
“You wanna dress up with feathers and lace and finery and paint your face and wear high heels and lady things?” Steve said in a rush.
“Maybe,” Bucky said.
“Okay,” Steve said. “I think you look swell whatever you have on.”
“It sounds kinda fun though, don’t it?” Bucky said, and felt a tiny grin breaking through the mask.
“Yeah,” Steve said, “it kinda does,” and kissed him, slow and sweet, till all their armor melted away and nothing was left but joy.
And they lived happily ever after.
milly_gal, who encouraged me to write the whole story about Bucky and his wings. Hugs to you BB!====
Once upon a time, a young soldier went out into the world to seek his fortune.
He did not meet an old woman along the road; he never got a chance to carry a fairy’s burden. He did not find a fish flopping on the edge of a lake; he never got a chance to take pity on the poor creature and earn three wishes. He did not find a lamp or free a genie. He did not pull a thorn from a lion’s paw.
The young soldier was an excellent marksman. His superiors gave him a rank and sent him to war.
The soldier was captured. The captors treated the men brutally, and the ones who were taken away never returned. He became one of those men who was taken away. They marched him to a room and strapped him to a table. They did things that left him sick and in pain, but somehow he survived.
One thing gave him peace in the midst of war: he had left his true love safe at home.
But lying there on the table, the soldier looked up to see his beloved, grown healthy and strong. All the magic that had never saved him before, had brought his true love to him at the very hour of his darkest need.
With a tender embrace, his true love lifted him off the table, fought a demon, led him through hell, and brought him back to life.
The soldier led the cheer when the prisoners returned, exulting, to their camp.
The story was not over. The war went on. The soldier’s love had become a mighty hero, big and strong, clever and daring, righteous and true. He won the heart of a virtuous woman. The soldier ached and held his peace, watching the back of his friend.
He fell, and he did not die.
He fell into hell, and the evil ones killed him again and again, and he could not die.
They tore his soul into pieces. He became little more than a puppet, and they held the strings. His friend was gone, the world moved on, and he slept and fought, killed and forgot, slept, remembered, fought, forgot.
All the magic in the world turned against him. The evil ones gave him a mighty arm, but he could only use it to kill. They kept him young, but he had no will of his own. He slept in a bed of solid ice, and shards of ice pierced his heart. They passed him through the fire and he came through it aching and empty. He was a wintry ghost, wielded by a terrible evil. He dreamed of a pair of blue eyes, a gleam of golden hair, and did not know what he dreamed.
At last, the day came when he finally woke up. The world fell to pieces all around him, and the golden-haired blue-eyed man was the only target he'd ever missed.
The soldier ran away, to hide and heal and dream back everything the evil ones had torn away from him.
The soldier learned how to think again: he chose where to sleep, what to wear, what to eat. He remembered things and wrote them down, precious gems from his stolen past.
Enemies came again to take up his strings, but his friend came too. His friend fought, and fought, and fought. Together they escaped to a kingdom ruled by a noble king, who vowed to keep him safe. He slept at last in peace, without fear, knowing his friend would not rest until the spells that bound him were undone.
He awakened to find that a powerful witch had cut the strings once and for all. The soldier was free at last!
His true love took the soldier into his arms. “Anywhere you wanna go, anything you wanna do, that’s what we’re gonna do, Buck,” his true love said.
Bucky pondered his own heart. He was tired and sad and felt guilty. But he had friends to help him get better. Even the man in the iron suit had changed his mind and said Bucky should be free. The whole world agreed that the evil things the Winter Soldier had done were not Bucky’s fault. He was truly free at last to seek his fortune, with his true love safe and strong by his side.
“Steve,” he said, “I wanna read books and listen to music and dance and watch movies. I wanna go to museums and travel and go to the beach and have picnics. I want to eat and drink and not worry about putting food on the table.”
“We can do that,” Steve said, nodding, all noble and serious like Bucky had always adored.
“I gotta tell ya…” Bucky said.
“Yeah?” Steve answered.
“I’m crazy about you, always have been,” Bucky admitted.
“I was kinda hoping that was the case,” Steve replied, “because I’m gone over you the same way. I saw it in your dreams, you know; Wanda and I had to look…”
Bucky thought Wanda was the very best kind of good witch; her gifts were good and kept getting better.
Bucky looked Steve in the eye and laid out his wishes. “I wanna sleep in the bed next to you. I wanna sit on the couch next to you. I wanna eat at your table, and sip from your cup.”
“Here I thought you were Snow White,” Steve laughed, “but it turns out you’re the Frog Prince.”
Bucky nodded. His smiles didn’t come as fast as they had in the old days. “That’s okay, I can be the Frog Prince, if it means you’ll kiss me.”
Steve kissed him, and the last shards of ice piercing his heart melted away.
“If you want to live on Coney dogs and ice cream, then that’s what we’ll do,” Steve said. “You deserve to take it easy for as long as you want, after all you been through.”
“I have to warn you though,” Bucky said. “My armor doesn’t always come off. The mask is still there most of the time. I don’t want you to think it’s your fault when you look over and my eyes are blank and dark.”
Steve laid his hand on Bucky’s neck and gripped him, just hard enough.
“I know it, Buck,” he said. “Mine doesn’t come off either. I gotta always be ready. With great power comes —“
“—great responsibility,” Bucky finished with him. “I read that one too.”
“But I want to help you take off your armor,” Steve said. “Like Jonathan and David.”
Bucky lifted his eyes, and Steve had no trouble seeing the love there. “We’ll take off each other’s armor sometimes, and help each other put it back on.”
Steve kissed him again, and their kisses went on for a while.
“I don’t want to always be the soldier,” Bucky whispered, scared and safe in Steve’s strong arms, “but I know I always will be the soldier. Even now I have a new arm, and I threw the muzzle into the river years ago, but somehow, it’s still there.”
Steve held him tight and kissed his temple. “You can be who you need to be, every minute, every hour, every day, and I’ll be who you need me to be, and you’ll be who I need you to be.”
“How can you be sure?” Bucky asked.
“You’ve always been exactly who I needed,” Steve insisted. “My whole life, when I had nothing else, I always had you, and that was enough. You’re my blessing, Bucky, already waiting for me the day I was born, weak and spindly, and you loved me anyway.”
“Punk,” Bucky whispered, remembering the incandescent beauty of that fiery little guy. He tried his kisses on Steve and they were nearly as sweet as Steve’s were to him.
“Sometimes,” Bucky said, “I wish I had wings.”
“Like Sam?” Steve asked.
“Not like Sam!” Bucky denied. “No, I mean fairy wings, gossamer things that unfold when you want to fly…”
“Huh,” Steve said. “I think there are a few folks out there like that these days, what with the Terrigenesis…”
“Well, I guess I don’t want them for real,” Bucky said. “I want to not be a soldier, and be a fairy sometimes.”
“Like, the fairies down the street, back in the day?” Steve asked.
“Yeah,” Bucky breathed, a huge rush of something magical thrilling him with Steve’s understanding.
“You wanna dress up with feathers and lace and finery and paint your face and wear high heels and lady things?” Steve said in a rush.
“Maybe,” Bucky said.
“Okay,” Steve said. “I think you look swell whatever you have on.”
“It sounds kinda fun though, don’t it?” Bucky said, and felt a tiny grin breaking through the mask.
“Yeah,” Steve said, “it kinda does,” and kissed him, slow and sweet, till all their armor melted away and nothing was left but joy.
And they lived happily ever after.
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no subject
Date: 2016-08-07 10:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-08-07 10:50 am (UTC)Glad you liked it -- it came together better than I thought it might! :)
no subject
Date: 2016-08-07 01:22 pm (UTC)It reads really well and as always I love your Steve and Bucky :D