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therenlover · 8 months

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Balm (A Medieval!Helmut Zemo x Maid!Reader Fic)

A/N: Guess who's back from a 2-year hiatus and dragging Zemo back into style with me kicking and screaming? ME! ME! ME! More explanation is to come about why I've been gone and what the plan is now, but for the moment, enjoy the most-requested unfinished fic I had from before my mysterious disappearance <3

Synopsis: Your forbidden dalliance with Baron Zemo, the lord of the house, has finally landed you in the dungeons, subject to the whims of the guards and the endless passage of time. As your sanity slips away, you wonder what will come first, your execution or the Baron's return?

Tags: Hurt/Comfort Heavy On The Comfort, Reunions, Medieval!Zemo, Maid!Reader, Dungeons, Psychological Trauma

Rating: M (+18)

Warnings: References to Recent Sexual Assault and Psychological Torture (Male on Female, No Graphic Descriptions), Imprisonment, PTSD Symptoms **Stay safe and avoid this fic if you need to, this was a personal project made to help me cope with my own feelings about my trauma**

Word Count: 5,800~

_________

“Where is the girl?”

Sharp voices, some unknown and some chillingly familiar, boomed against the dark walls that closed in on me by the minute, gaining ground with every agonizingly long second. They were still far out, at least a minute away from the wrought-iron door of my cell. Somehow, though, I couldn’t bring myself to care. No, not anymore. If my execution was finally rapidly approaching with the sound of armor and thundering feet, it would be much more to my benefit than anything else the men approaching could possibly do to me. Or what they had already done.

The thought sent a shiver down my bare form despite the hardness of my heart.

Was there any torture, commonplace or strange, worse than what I had already endured at the hands of men who considered themselves to be bringers of justice and keepers of peace? I could not fathom it. Even a painful, slow death in the iron maiden would be preferable to the time I had been confined to the dungeons of the manor I’d once called home.

A soundless laugh, weak and bitter and halfway to a rib-crushing cough, escaped my cracked lips at the irony of it all. I tasted blood with every swallow.

Yes, I decided death was a welcome friend a long time ago, even if with it came the moment I dreaded most of all. In the pitch darkness, I let my eyes fall closed, and somewhere down the hall, the cacophony of voices grew louder.

“Why was I not informed of this the moment I returned to the manor?”

“I assure you, my lord, we thought it for the best-“

“For the best? You ignoramus-“

My lord.

The words stirred nameless feelings in my chest. Screaming, sobbing, nameless feelings that pulled the dregs of my humanity back to the stony surface of my strong facade.

How long had it been since those words had left my lips, a veneration above all others reserved only for the man I loved, despite their demands? I couldn’t even wager a guess. There were no windows in the dank room that served as my personal hell, just darkness and torchlight. The only way of keeping track of the suns and moons that passed was through the changing of the guards, and I had come to anticipate those for an entirely different reason. Counting the days had ceased being a priority long ago. It was much more important to count the passing shifts in order to prepare for the true punishment, doled out by faceless men in near-identical leathers. Here I was little more than the Baron’s abandoned whore, and rather than counting days I counted the cycling of warm bodies in the frigid underground air.

Horror and shame and rage coursed hot in my veins at the thought.

Surely this amount of men could only mean I was to be escorted to your execution, but I wondered in the darkness: Would they defile me one last time before dragging me out into the square, heavy hands and covetous eyes taking and taking and taking until there was no chance of forgetting what they had stolen from me, even as I took my final breaths? Or would they feign justice instead, slipping my bruised body back into the rough prisoner’s uniform that had remained crumpled in the corner far beyond my reach since the first hours I’d spent at their mercy? Either way, their impure actions would be evident when they dragged me out to the town square, which was a small blessing amongst the terrors that awaited. Maybe it would not be clear to the public, but the Baron… he would know.

He had known every inch of me. He would have to know.

He would see the marks, so similar to those left by his own fingers and teeth and lips and palms, and he would know the truth of the cruelty I’d faced, but he wouldn’t turn away from the sight of my broken body. It was his job as a crowned head to witness my death to the end the same as any other prisoner, no matter how gruesome or horrible an end I met. Perhaps that was to be his end of the punishment for the beautiful crime we’d shared. Perhaps, in a turn of events that I could only now imagine in the depths of my despair, he wouldn’t feel pain or punishment at all. My head could roll to his feet with no more than a tired sigh from his royal lips.

None of those possibilities really mattered though. Nothing mattered because nothing could be changed. Not anymore.

Distantly, I wondered if they would hang me, burn me, or separate me from my head. If I was especially unlucky, which I usually was, they might choose to make an example out of me and choose to draw and quarter me instead. The thoughts hung heavy in my mind, and all the while the end of my life drew closer and closer, marked by angered shouts and the gentle glow of torchlight, growing brighter and brighter in the corner of my sight.

I closed my eyes to the oncoming reality.

Seeing their reaction to me, strung up nude and probably still dripping with spend, would be too much. instead, I allowed myself to listen. That was the one sense they could not sully or steal away from me. Besides, if I kept my eyes open I would be forced to behold the faces of the guards, and I would much rather not have features to put to the nameless, faceless shadows that haunted both my nightmares and every waking hour. I had managed to keep them anonymous in my mind until now, and I would prefer to keep them that way until the end.

Something clanged a few feet away from the cell door, loud and tinny.

A voice called out from beside the noise, low and raspy. Familiar in the worst of ways. “My lord, what are you doing down here?”

“Where is she?” A new voice replied, “Which cell?”

Or… perhaps the voice wasn’t new. It rattled something within me, and slowly my memories regained some of their clarity. His voice was louder than I was used to hearing it, rougher around the edges than I remembered, but it was Helmut’s voice nonetheless. A weak smile spread across my bloodied lips despite my internal protestations.

He had come.

For what reason I still couldn’t say, but he was right there. He had come back and he was searching for me. The sound of him, his heavy footsteps and thunderous timbre close enough that I could almost imagine grasping the sounds from the air… I could not begin to describe the strange feeling bubbling up through my chest at his very presence, so close and yet so far. Still, I did not dare make a noise, I doubted I could manage a shout or even a whimper if I tried to, and instead, I listened as intently as I could.

The frantic conversation outside only grew louder as the men approached my cell. It was hard to fully focus on it. Through my hazy delirium of starvation and pain and hope, I could only focus on the image of his face in my mind, smiling brightly down at me in the firelight as he had so many times before. His touch was a phantom on my burning skin. It was a memory so close to reality that if I kept my eyes squeezed shut, it was almost indiscernible from the real thing, down to the bruises on my hips and the ache in my legs. Still, it was a fantasy, the final beautiful dream of a scullery maid who had taken too much from this cruel world to be allowed to continue to live in it.

I relished in every single moment I was gifted with him; past and present, real and imagined. There was little else I could possibly do but wait and hope, and hope was a dangerous thing.

“I’m afraid you’re too late, Baron. She is… no longer with us,”

The words made all the warmth I’d gathered up through my dreaming turn sour and cold in an instant. This was why hope was such a dangerous game for me to play. It comes just as easily as it goes, but it never leaves without taking something with it.

“What?”

“Her womanly constitution was simply too weak for the dungeons, my lord. We did everything by the book, I assure you of that, but she couldn’t manage it past the first week. She. Perished in her sleep,”

The guard's voice was so sickeningly genuine that even I almost believed him.

“That cannot be true. I refuse to believe it is true,”

“Aye, my lord. Any of us men could verify,”

Metal slammed against metal in the distance as shouting began in earnest, but I couldn’t focus on any of it. No, my mind was far, far away as I pondered the consequences of what I had witnessed.

I began to think that they never intended to let me die. At least not in the way I had been meant to. Instead, they would kill my soul and rob me of my sanity until my heart simply gave out from the horror of it all, hidden away in the bowels of the Baron’s manor where screams of pain and wails for help would fall on deaf ears. No one would come looking for me again. No one would even know I had survived. A sob escaped my mouth, breathy and broken. Would the tortures never cease?

A sudden silence followed.

Helmut spoke again in a quiet, measured tone. “What was that noise,”

I sniffled as the faceless man outside the door clambered to cover up whatever had caught the Baron’s attention.

“What, my lord?”

“That noise. What. Was. It.” The T seemed to be spat from the baron’s quivering lips. “I thought you said no others remained in these cells as we descended, so what could possibly be making noise?”

“I can assure you it was-“

A slam echoed through the dungeon. “Tell me the truth, or I shall imprison you long enough to find out when someone of your… constitution would perish under these conditions.”

There was silence.

No one spoke or moved an inch. I couldn’t even manage a whimper in that soundless eternal moment that seemed to stretch on and on into the oblivion that surrounded me on all sides. Creaking armor finally cut through it all, breaking through the void, and like a spark on dry kindling, everything burned quickly from there. Something clattered to the ground, metal rattled, boots stomped and keys clanged on their loop. Still, I could not bring myself to open my eyes, even as the great iron door of my cells groaned open and exposed my bare body to a new rush of freezing air from the hall.

All at once, silence prevailed again, cut only by the wails of air rushing down from the stairway.

I couldn’t lift my head; it was far too heavy on my trembling shoulders with my grubby, matted hair falling like a filthy curtain in front of my face. I didn’t need to lift it, though, to know Helmut was there in the doorway, beholding me in all my shame. Another sob cut its way through my throat and body at the thought. I was so consumed in my pain that I almost missed the sound of soft footsteps on the packed earthen floor beneath me.

“Schatz?” He whispered. I winced at the tenderness of the nickname he had once grown so fond of. It was like I could slowly feel him comprehending the level of my suffering the longer I sat, eyes screwed shut. If I stayed just like that, unmoving and unseeing, I might be able to imagine it all away like a dream. That was easier than the alternative. He had finally seen me as what I had always been: nothing. It was only a matter of time before his kindness soured too.

Despite the gruesome scene before him, though, he did not turn away. He did not run.

Instead, the Baron took a few tentative steps forward. I could practically feel his presence before me. Then he inhaled, sharp, but stayed silent for a moment more. If I hadn’t dared to know him better, I would have thought he had reached out to touch me before choosing another course of action. He couldn’t have done that, though. There was no possible way he still cared for me, especially after seeing me in such a state of filth and shame. Right?

“Oh, my sweetest one,” Helmut murmured, “what have they done to you?”

And just like that, I shattered at his slightest word.

“M-my lord, I…” my throat burned in protestation, a thousand red-hot needles thrust with every breathy whisper, “I have failed you. Punish me how you see fit,” In a sudden rush of pain, it was as though I could feel every bruise and slice on my body, every aching muscle in my arms screaming for release from the manacles above my head. I didn’t dare strain against the restraints, though, because even with Helmut present I couldn’t fathom what might happen if I stepped out of line knowing the guards were just steps away at the door. Despite the fear, it was excruciating.

As if he could sense your agony, the Baron jumped into action. “Someone remove her shackles! Now!” He shouted back towards the door.

I could hear a bit of shuffling behind him, trembling as the noises grew closer and louder. There were people with us now, people who might witness firsthand the impropriety of my relationship with the lord of the house. People who would use that against me in the worst of ways. A whimper escaped my lips at the thought as I could feel them lean in to undo my hands from the bolts on the wall. Though no one else would possibly notice, the man above me still smelled like sex.

Helmut was a constant tether to sanity through the terror. A distraction from the world outside the two of us in each following moment.

“You have not failed me, little one,” he said, “In fact, I’m incredibly proud of how strong you must have been.” His voice was soft, one only ever used for me. It felt almost too good to be true.

I shook my head, ignoring the sharp pains that shot through my neck, eyes still firmly closed. I couldn’t allow myself to hope. Not yet. “Why have you come here?” I begged, “We cannot be seen together. Your reputation…”

He sighed softly, and a familiar hand came to rest on my knee. I jumped from the alien sensation at first but corrected myself quickly. It was just Helmut. I knew those calloused palms by touch alone, as sure as I knew my own. Those hands were just as incapable of hurting me now as they had been when I first held them in the soft lamplight of the harvest festival so many moons ago.

“I am the head of this manor and the Baron of these lands. If I wish to protect the woman I love, I am well within my rights to do so,”

“Don’t,” I protested.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t give me hope. Not now, not so soon before we’ll be parted again,”

With a loud clunk, my wrists were released from their manacles.

After however long I had been imprisoned in this dark, wet hell, the muscles in my arms had weakened considerably. What once was toned muscle from years of labor now sat taut against bone, withered away with time and disuse. I could do little more than let them drop to my sides as the Baron rubbed calming circles into my knee with his thumb.

Why couldn’t he see how much it would hurt to be apart from him after this agony? How allowing me to dream now would only mean those dreams could be crushed when he returned to his life above. I had committed a crime, after all. Even if the punishment I had endured until this moment ended, I would still serve the rest of my treasonous sentence to the death without him. Alone. It all made me feel so defeated that I could do little more than cry dry tears and memorize the feeling of his skin on mine. It would keep my mind with me longer once he had gone if there was a pleasant memory to cling to. I couldn’t decide, though, if keeping my mind would be a blessing or a curse.

Helmut didn’t give up despite my insistence on pushing him away. In fact, I could almost imagine he grew gentler as a few guards shuffled about behind him. “Where are the fine clothes I had given you, my love?” he asked, “How can I warm you?”

What little moisture had returned to my mouth dried completely in an instant at his words. I couldn’t rip the answer from my tongue if I was forced to with a dagger at my heart.

Still, the Baron tried again. “If they’re here, please try to guide me to them. I can have one of the guards retrieve them,” The moment he mentioned the guard, every muscle in my body tensed, trembling from the effort of it all despite my mental protestations to calm. I couldn’t raise any alarms. I was too late, though. Helmut took note of my reaction with a measured rage as his teeth snapped together. “Ah,” his voice was a low growl, “I see now. No need to fret, Schatz. I’ll have Oeznik bring you a fresh gown. You won’t need whatever they dressed you in down here from now on anyway,”

Distantly, I could hear the hurried rush of slippered feet disappearing down the stone corridor, and I could only assume it was the trusted manservant following his lord’s orders to fetch me some clothes. I was so focused on following the sound of footfalls up the stairs that I almost didn’t notice the warmth of a cloak settling around my bare shoulders, draping over my nudeness and surrounding me with the string musk of cedarwood and sweat. I almost felt safe there, within the thick fur and leather of that mantle. When was the last time that had been even partially true? I couldn’t honestly say I knew. Maybe was that Helmut was there, so close to my side, or maybe it was that my modesty was covered for the first time in gods know how long, but no matter which was true, a strange sense of relief began to flood my veins. It burbled up to the surface like some sort of warm natural spring flowing from the very core of my being. For the first time in ages, I could breathe without terror, even if not without pain.

After the initial rush, though, it almost felt as though not facing my imminent demise made everything worse.

If I wasn’t actively about to be executed at any given time, that meant I had to face the things I’d seen, the things that had been done to me… oh yes, things felt much worse when I had to confront them in the proverbial light of day.

All at once, I learned that there were fates far worse than death and that mine was one of them.

A gasp, wet with blood and spittle, escaped my throat as I burrowed deeper into the cloak, pressing my face to the collar where the Baron’s scent was strongest. He was quick to bring a hand to my face, but I pulled away from the gesture. I couldn’t bear to look at him. To let him look at me… it was unfathomable. Not as I was.

Despite everything, Helmut was as patient as he could be while I trembled there. He rubbed his calloused thumb slowly over my gaunt cheeks, hushed me, and dried my tears. Everything about him seemed to radiate comfort like the sun.

The switch flipped when one of the guards made the mistake of speaking.

“Baron,” the new voice said, voice low, “don’t you think it best to-“

He never got to finish his sentence.

No, before he had the chance to utter another syllable, Helmut was standing at his full height and grasping the man firmly by some piece of his armor, dragging him closer across the muck on the floor.

“What were you about to say to me?” The man did not reply, but the Baron refused to relent to his silence. “I asked you a question, worm. When your lord commands, you obey,”

The guard's reply was stuttered out as soon as his heaving breaths allowed him a moment's respite. Was Helmut… choking him?

“I was going to suggest that you return to your father to get an official pardon before you decide to elope with a rightfully imprisoned woman, Baron, no matter the nature of your business with her. Need I remind you that he is the true Baron of this manor until his passing, after all,”

That was, evidently, not the correct thing to say.

A growl ripped free of Helmut’s throat that could have been loosed by a wild beast as he shoved the man harshly to the floor.

I heard others move to defend their comrade, but they all seemed to still at the sight of Helmut’s ferocity. In an instant he was standing over the fallen guard with what I could only imagine was a murderous rage from behind my shut eyelids.

“Rightfully imprisoned? Rightfully imprisoned?” Rage dripped from every seething word, “There is no rightful imprisonment when you strip a prisoner of their decency- of their humanity! When was the last time she was fed? Allowed time off the rack to care for herself? Rightfully imprisoned… you lost the right to claim that the second you locked her down here without the advisory of my father, who has given me full permission to free her and return her to my quarters immediately,” Helmut paused for a moment before adding, gravely, “I shall call a healer for her there to confirm what I believe to be true, and if it is… well, may the gods have mercy on your souls, because I certainly will not,” With that, he spat into the face of the guard at his feet and stepped back, taking heaving breaths, though I could not tell if it was from the effort of his rage or the effort of holding it back.

The moments that followed beloved into sort of quiet chaos in the darkness of my mind. There was a shirt scuffle as the guard seemingly rose to his feet once more, aided by his compatriots, while Helmut stood silent. I could just make out the shaky sound of his ragged breathing. Everything else just melded into a cacophony of voices and loud, disjointed noises that seemed to jump out of the darkness and straight for me. It made me want to implode.

It was as if, all at once, everything became… too much to bear. The air was too thick and the sounds were too loud and every inch of my being was alight with small bursts of needling pain, driving far past my skin and deep into my bones as the room grew colder and colder around me. The sensations were nothing compared to the tortures I had endured before, physically or otherwise, but with the promise of freedom and safety waiting so closely to me in the form of the man that I loved, even the smallest of pains felt unbearable and unending. It was as if every bit of suffering. Had fought through at the hands of the guards to survive to see this glimmer of hope had been compounded into one, large pressure that threatened to crush me the second I clawed my way to freedom.

Helmut would never allow that to happen, though. Not again. Not after he had seen me in this state. I could only suspect that this newfound softness in him meant he wouldn’t allow me away from his side for quite some time, no matter how ridiculous or unbelievable such an idea seemed. In the deepest, most shameful corners of my heart, I could only hope it would be true. I wanted desperately to be tucked away someplace soft and warm and utterly mundane where I would never be forced to face another ounce of horror or darkness for the rest of my life.

Somewhere between the sudden influx of sensation and the daydream of peace, I forgot to keep my eyes shut.

My eyelashes peeled apart, adhered together with some sort of muck, revealing Helmut standing before me. The sight of him was enough to let me fight through the pain of the light and keep them open. A soft sob escaped me once more.

His body was tense and readied for movement, white shirt soaked with sweat and grime and what looked like it had to be blood as he stood with his back to me, one arm outstretched back towards me in a silent gesture of comfort he didn’t even know if I would see. He could not reach me, nor did I think he intended to, but it offered me security nonetheless. His other hand sat easily on the hilt of his sword, resting sheathed on his hip as it always did during long trips outside the manor walls. Had he come directly to me upon his return home, not even taking the time to shed his outdoor cloak and sword, only to find me missing from my place in his chambers? I banished the thought from my head. That was unimportant at the moment. What mattered was that Helmut’s body served as a barrier of safety between me and the rest of the world. It gave me just enough courage to keep my eyes hooded, but open.

It took a moment to adjust to the darkness. While the torches in the hall still burned brightly, the great iron door blocked most of their glow from reaching my gaze. The light was just enough to focus in on the world beyond Helmut’s silhouette, letting me catch sight of the glint of a guard's sword appearing from the dark corner of the room before the Baron did.

What once was quiet chaos devolved into loud, maddening chaos from there.

I screamed. That was certain, even when all else was not. It was a dry, cracked, raw thing that escaped me as the hidden guard broke rank and lunged across the room. There was no humanity in his ice-cold eyes, not the slightest glimmer of anything besides bloodlust and pure self-preservation crossing his face, and yet somehow, despite all the time I had spent at the mercy of him and his companions, I held no fear for myself. Instead, the terror that wracked my body was for the man who stood between me and the sword.

Helmut was the only thing in the world that could keep me from an eternity of torment and his attacker knew that better than even I did at the moment. He intended to kill the man I loved, a treasonous act, in exchange for the safety of his own hide. If Helmut was bested… I couldn’t even fathom it. The moment stretched on endlessly, and yet there was no time to think about the sight I beheld. As the Baron took note of the man, he drew his own sword. I urged my own abused muscles forward, managing to almost drag myself across the few feet of space that separated me and my lord and his hand, still outstretched towards me; a beacon of reassurance. The moment my fingers brushed his, I collapsed, muscles spasming against the dirt. I had done my part. From there, I could do nothing but close my eyes once more and wait for the telltale metallic noises of swordplay.

They never came.

Helmut jolted before me, hard enough that even from my spot on the floor I couldn’t help but wince, and I heard the telltale swish of his blade leaving its sheath, feeling the wind in its wake on my teary face. Still, the terrible fight I anticipated didn’t rage on. I couldn’t hear any of the other guards present so much as breathe. I found myself utterly lost in the darkness. My cluelessness towards the current situation was almost worse than seeing Helmut skewered, at least in that moment as I reached out and grasped fistfuls of dirt, desperate to hold on to something real. Someone groaned a quick, pained breath, and then everything ceased to be.

Time stopped there for a while. Maybe it was only in the prison of my own mind, but it was as if the space between breaths had extended out into the infinite darkness and fear that consumed me whole. He couldn’t be dead. Even if he was, I couldn’t bear to check.

The moment was only broken when a familiar voice cut through the silence. “Shall I have him disposed of, my lord?”

My eyelids were heavy, but I forced them up and open as I released my fistfuls of dirt and dragged my face up to look towards the door only to find Oeznik had returned. With a bundle of linens in one hand and a bloodstained sword in the other, he stood flanked by some of the elder Baron’s personal guards. If looks could kill, the man who had attempted to take Helmut’s life would have been in a much more merciful situation, and the baron stood before you, triumphant.

His blade remained pressed into the man’s neck, keeping the poor bastard frozen mid-swing for fear that one wrong move would take off his head. All the while Helmut’s face remained hidden from my view. If his body language was anything to go by, it was taking all of his self-control not to slaughter the guard right then and there, but he remained as still as a statue, unreadable and cold, as I reached a trembling hand up to his still extended hand like a lifeline. He squeezed my cold fingers in his own comfortingly the moment we managed to touch.

“Just ensure that he doesn’t move from this cell,” Helmut replied, “None of them should,”

It was as if the great group of men gathered around the door forgot how to breathe. I, on the other hand, felt freer than I had in an eternity.

“Shall I lock the door behind us?” Oeznik inquired.

Despite his hidden face, I could hear the pure wickedness and vengeance in Helmut’s grin. “Yes, Oeznik, and station a few of our best men at the door. One of them may still have a key, and all would be for naught should they simply remove themselves from captivity,”

“Right away, my lord,”

It shouldn’t have surprised me when Helmut let go of my hand and finally shifted himself to regard me once more. Still, the look in his eyes made my heart feel although it could stop beating. He turned and knelt before me, taking my muddied face in his hands and brushing a thumb over my cheek. His touch was so tender I almost forgot to breathe, as though taking even a gulp of air would break the spell and plunge me back into reality. The light, remained, though, even as he sank to his knees to assist me.

“There's no need for us to tarry here any longer, schatzi. Come along now,”

An almost childlike, hysterical wonder flooded my senses as I tried to pull his cloak tighter to my body. The warmth was addictive. “We’re going? Together?”

“Yes darling, together,”

“But what if someone sees us? Baron, I can’t let them see you like this, especially with me in such a state. If someone from town were to see-“

Though his face betrayed none of his emotions, the ice-cold tone of Helmut’s voice was enough to send a shiver down my aching spine. “I will cross that bridge when I’m required to. Now come. You’ve spent far too much time in this dank hole already and I refuse to let you remain here for even a moment longer,”

I needed no more convincing than that to take the Baron’s hand as he helped me up on unsteady feet.

Standing again was a strange sensation, to say the least. It was as if I were a fawn taking my first steps across the damp forest floor in spring. Helmut kept me upright against his side and jumped into action the moment he was needed, bracing my body on his as my legs gave out time and time again in the steps toward the door. When the struggle became too great for him to bear watching, he wasted no time before sweeping an arm beneath my knees and cradling me to his chest, making sure to keep me wrapped securely in his mantle along the way. From there I could do little more than let the shock set in, drifting in and out of the present as he carried me away from the hell hole I had believed I would never leave again. All the while, a loose, pained smile crossed my bloody lips.

On the way up the steep, winding stairs, I faintly recalled hearing Helmut muttering to Oeznik, who remained a few paces ahead of you during the ascent like a buffer. The contents of their conversation eluded me. I could only assume they were speaking of what had transpired, but I couldn’t say with any certainty. Not with the way my mind seemed to be covered in a thick fog as soon as I let my eyes drift shut once more, tucked into the furs that surrounded me on all sides. The only certainty in the world became the steady thrumming of Helmut’s heart and the heady musk of travel clinging to his clothes and skin.

As the last of my lucidity faded, I opened my eyes one last time, only to be greeted by the warm light of dawn. It streamed down upon me in a million colors from the stained glass windows lining the hall. I had believed so truthfully that I would never see the sun again, and yet here I was, bathed in the glory of a new morning. A new day.

Everything became lost to time from there as my eyes drifted shut once more, still catching glimpses of colored light from behind my eyelids until I lost my grasp on the present.

#helmut zemo #zemo #baron zemo #zemo x reader #daniel brühl #x reader #marvel fanfiction #falcon and winter solider series #technically there will be a part 2 to this but it'll take me a few days to edit it up

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