4.10

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                                         Natasha

The days leading up to the ball were hectic.

The palace was a flurry of activity, from people decorating to caterers bringing in massive quantities of food and ingredients, to the royal tailors and their massive bolts of fabrics. And the florists. There were so many flowers everywhere it looked like they were growing right out of the marble.

I hadn't given much thought about what I was going to wear until Marzda came into the bedroom one day and announced, "it's our turn with the tailors."

"For what?" I ask, looking up from the toys that Fen had given Olympia.

"To get our outfits for the ball," she said like it was obvious. "Your dress and my suit."

"What if I wanted to wear a suit?" I joke.

She smirks, "then I'd have to suffer and wear the dress."

I look her over and grin, "that would be a sight."

"Maybe one day," she promises. "Come on, don't want to be late." She looks over her shoulder and calls, "Fen?"

Fen runs into the room and immediately goes to Olympia who hands them a toy. I was still unsure about leaving the two of them alone but had been assured that even when they were alone, they weren't unsupervised.

Whatever that meant.

Following her down the maze of hallways we eventually stop in front of a door that's propped open with a large golden statue and the sound of cursing could be heard from within the room. When we walk in, Valkyrie is all but yelling at the poor tailor who looks terrified.

"This was supposed to be aqua, not sea foam! Aqua!" She yells, waving her cape around.

"Valkyrie!" Marzda calls. "Leave that woman alone."

Valkyrie turns to us, "I will not! Keema gave me one job- make sure my suit was aqua!" She turns to the tailor again, "AQUA!" She steps off the small platform and strides towards us, "I'm not really a colors person but Keema is and she's absolutely terrifying."

"Really?" I ask her. "She seems so sweet."

Valkyrie glares at me, "it's all an act. It's how she sucks you in and then when you're least expecting it, she sinks her claws in!"

"Who has claws?" The woman in question asks from the doorway.

Valkyrie's eyes go wide as she turns to Keema, "nobody!"

Keema smirks and for a split second I can see the family resemblance to Marzda and then it's gone, "this is not Aqua," she says as she grabs Valkyrie's cape.

"I know," a clearly terrified Valkyrie says. "I was just telling these guys that this tailor is incompetent."

Keema shakes her head, "come on, let's go find the right color."

She drags Valkyrie away from us who looks over her shoulder and mouths, "help me," before disappearing behind a stack of cloth.

"Damn," I mutter when they are out of sight. "Tops must run in the family."

"What?" Marzda laughs out.

"Nothing!"

Suddenly she's right in front of me, so close her nose almost touches mine. She leaves an inch of space between our bodies, not touching me but still close enough that it sends a shiver through me. Her eyes drill into mine and I can't look away, my breath coming in shorts gasps.

Dear god she hasn't even touched me and I was acting like we just went ten rounds.

"Ты хочешь, чтобы я превзошел тебя, принцесса?" (Do you want me to top you, princess?)
She asks me in perfect Russian, her voice low, giving me a look that lights a fire in my stomach.

"I- uh..." I stutter out. "You don't speak Russian," I finally get out and then mentally curse myself for saying something that stupid.

She grins and pulls back, the spell broken. "I've learned a lot of languages in the past ten years. Russian was a 'just in case I ever see you again' language," she explains. "I wanted to surprise you."

"Well you did," I tell her, finally able to breath again.

She nods, "yeah I know. I've missed feeling you, Natasha," she says in a suggestive way.

My face reddens and I walk past her towards the waiting tailor, "we should get this over with."

I can hear her laughing behind me but she obediently follows me.

                   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Several hours later I'm standing in front of a full length mirror staring in awe at the dress that looks like it was painted onto my body.

It was a simple thing, just a floor length V cut dress that showed off ample cleavage, made from a deep ruby red fabric that was almost like silk but felt like air and was just as light. A black lace scarf hung over my shoulders and black elbow length gloves adorn my arms.

"Stunning," Marzda says from behind me.

I look at her in the mirror, "you're one to talk." I don't even try to hide what I'm feeling as I look at her and watch her cocky grin slowly form.

If I thought my dress was painted on, hers was a second skin. The material is same as mine, but in a black so dark it makes the red of her shirt look bright even though it's the same dark red as mine. A small red pocket square pokes out of her jacket pocket, and  she tugs at the hem of her sleeve nervously.

"I'm not sure about the jacket," she mutters.

"Take it off," I tell her.

She raises an eyebrow at me, "if you wanted me to undress all you had to do was ask."

"I just did," I retort. She laughs but takes off the jacket, revealing her bare arms. "What is with you and sleeves?"

She sighs and tosses her jacket aside, "I don't like hiding my marks." She gestures to her face, "not that I can hide all of them, but when I go on the missions and the other slaves see me, it gives them hope. That if someone just like them can break free, then so can they. It gives them hope and the courage to fight."

Stepping off the platform, I go to her and put my hands on her arms, "then don't cover them."

"You don't mind?" She asks uncertainly.

"No," I tell her. "I hate how you got them but they are part of you. And I love every part of you."

"You love me?"

I nod, "always."

She grins slightly, "can I kiss you?"

"Please."

She pulls me close, our bodies finally touching and places her lips on mine in a long overdue kiss. "I love you too," she whispers against my lips as she briefly pulls away.

"Then show me," I whisper back.

Her lips graze mine again and I can feel her smile, "yes ma'am."

All the Colors of Earth (Natasha Romanoff)Onde histórias criam vida. Descubra agora