"Natasha."
…
"So, a pretty nice place you got here." Natasha opened as they sat in Yalena's home.
Yalena opened a bottle of wine. "Can't offer you coffee, but I figured something a little stronger might not hurt."
"I had heard that there wasn't power in the city, but I guess I never thought about just how many things that limit." Natasha commented as she accepted a glass.
"Yeah, I got hot water for a bath, but want a cup of tea or coffee? And I have to start a fire and bring a pot to boil… But it's still great here, way better than the mess you left us in when you just abandoned us all like that."
Yalena didn't hide the accusation in her tone.
Natasha, for one, had expected it and quickly took a sip of her wine, intending to wet her throat before explaining herself.
Yet the moment the wine touched her tongue, she froze. It took all her training to swallow it down. "That… is horrible! What is that?" She asked, looking at the bottle.
Yalena burst out laughing. "That, that is the most expensive wine you will ever taste, a bottle like that is likely worth millions to a collector, and it's horrible!"
Natasha stared at the bottle as if it had personally offended her. "You're kidding me. People actually pay millions for this? I've had better stuff that came in a box."
Yalena wiped away a tear from laughing so hard. "I know, right? Camelot has treasures beyond imagining, ancient riches, legendary relics—"
"And this god-awful wine," Natasha finished, setting her glass down firmly as if it were dangerous.
Yalena leaned back in her chair, smirking. "It's not that bad, at least the first glass isn't, but if you let it air, it turns vile… talking about vile, why are you here? After you left us. Did you even think about what would happen to us after you fled?"
The humor drained from the room in an instant. Natasha's playful expression vanished, replaced by something heavier—guilt, regret. She set her glass down slowly, as if even the sound of it hitting the table would carry the weight of her past decisions.
"I thought about it every day," Natasha admitted quietly, not meeting Yalena's gaze at first. "I didn't leave because I wanted to. I left because I had to."
Yalena scoffed, crossing her arms as she leaned forward. "That's what you keep telling yourself, huh? You had to leave. And what about us? We didn't have a choice. We were abandoned—scrambling to survive."
"Dreykov didn't like the idea that you betrayed him, they only got harder, I can't even begin to imagine what he would have done if the King hadn't sent someone to rescue us."
"I took care of Dreykov, I was sure that without him, you would all be free!" Natasha defended herself.
"You took care of him? Yeah, right, you tried alright, and he survived, and when he came back? We were worse than ever. The training, the brainwashing, it only got worse." Yalena shot back.
Natasha's fingers tightened around the edge of the table, her knuckles whitening as the weight of Yalena's words crashed down on her. "I didn't know," she whispered, her voice cracking slightly. "I thought—when I blew up that building, I thought it was over. I thought you were free."
"Well, you thought wrong," Yalena snapped, her eyes blazing with anger and pain. "You thought you saved us, but all you did was make him angry. And we were the ones who had to pay the price."
The room felt suffocating, the silence between them filled with unspoken memories and shared trauma. Natasha closed her eyes for a moment, forcing herself to breathe. When she opened them, they shimmered with a mix of regret and determination.
"I'm sorry," she said, the words heavy but genuine. "I didn't know. If I had known, I would have come back. I would have burned it all down."
Yalena leaned back, her gaze softening, but only slightly. "Yeah, well, you didn't. But you're here now. So why don't you tell me why? You want forgiveness?"
Natasha hesitated, her lips parting as if the answer were on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn't quite find the right words. She looked away, staring at the flickering shadows cast by the dim light in the room.
"Forgiveness?" she repeated quietly, almost to herself. "No. I don't deserve that."
Yalena raised an eyebrow, her expression a mixture of skepticism and guarded curiosity. "Then what do you want, Natasha?"
Natasha exhaled sharply, the weight of the question pressing down on her. "I want to fix this. I want to make things right—not just with you, but with all of them. Everyone I failed."
Yalena let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "You think you can fix this by coming back now, after everything? It's not that simple. You can't erase what we went through."
"I know that," Natasha said, her voice stronger now, a flicker of determination igniting within her. But I went through the Red Room, I know suffering just as the rest of you, and I made it out, so I know, I know, and I can help."
Yalena fell silent, her gaze boring into Natasha's as if searching for any sign of insincerity. When she found none, she sighed and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.
"Help us, how? And why do you think we need help? We're free of the Red Room, we've got a new home, work, and heck, I've got wine more expensive than a plot of land in New York."
Natasha leaned back slightly, crossing her arms. "But do you really have freedom? You are working under some magic king of incredibly power, the entire world is thinking about how to get rid of him, I think leaving would be good, leave and be able to choose for yourself what you want."
Her words caused Yalena to narrow her eyes. "So you think we are kept here against our will? Forced to work? Trained to become killers or something? And then you come, to save us and make us work for whoever you work for?"
Natasha's eyes widened slightly, her posture stiffening. "No, that's not what I meant. I'm not here to recruit you or drag you into someone else's war. I just—" She paused, running a hand through her hair, frustration clear on her face. "I just want you to have options. Real options. To choose your own future."
Yalena's expression didn't soften. "You don't think we have that already? And even if not, where else could we go? Dreykov wasn't there when they freed us; he is still out there. here, in England, in Albion, we are safe."
Natasha exhaled slowly, her shoulders slumping slightly. "I get it. Safety is important. I'm not saying it isn't, but if Dreykov is still out there, do you really think this place is untouchable forever?"
Yalena couldn't help but look at Natasha in shock. "Are you kidding me? Dreykov? Coming here? Please, Arthuria is a capital G goddess; the entire UN is shitting their pants over his last display; here in Camelot, I could have assassinated the president of America and be totally safe."
Natasha blinked, momentarily stunned by Yalena's bluntness. "That's... not exactly comforting," she muttered, leaning forward. "I get that Arthuria's powerful, but power like that also attracts enemies. The UN isn't going to stay frozen in fear forever. Eventually, they'll act."
Yalena shrugged, swirling the wine in her glass absentmindedly. "Let them act. They've already tried once, and Mordred sent them packing. You think they're ready for another taste of that? Trust me, Natasha, we're safer here than we ever were on the run."
Natasha stared into her own glass, her fingers tapping against the rim. "It's just... I've spent so long running, planning, staying ahead of the next threat. I can't imagine a place where you don't have to."
"Well, maybe that's your problem," Yalena said, leaning back with a smirk. "You can't imagine it, but I'm living it. Sure, it's not perfect—this wine is proof of that—but it's better than anything we had before. No handlers. No missions. Just freedom."
Natasha hesitated. "But what about choice? Isn't this just another version of being under someone's rule?"
Yalena's smirk softened into something more thoughtful. "Are there anyone in the world who are truly free? Who isn't under the rule of someone else, here it's a person sure, but aren't you under a system if not a person?"
Natasha fell silent, Yalena's words sinking in deeper than she wanted to admit. She knew the truth of it—no one was ever completely free.
"I guess you're right," Natasha admitted, her voice quieter now. "But it's still hard to trust that kind of rule. I've spent my life fighting against control."
"I get it," Yalena replied, leaning forward and resting her arms on the table. "But you don't know her. If you did, you wouldn't be offering to help us get out of working for her, but help us not get fired."
"Her?" Natasha asked.
Yalena clicked her tongue. "Damn, I forgot you didn't know, but well, cat is out of the bag. The king is a woman! It's crazy, but true. But honestly, I'm not sure if it matters. Being a God and all, she is so different from others. So pure, not at all like politicians and stuff."
Natasha blinked, the revelation catching her completely off guard. "Wait... the King of Camelot is a woman? And you're telling me she's some kind of... goddess?"
"Yep," Yalena said, leaning back with a smug grin. "So very different from those greedy men in power normally. She is pretty much perfect, if a bit stuck in her ways, unwilling to allow new stuff."
Natasha shook her head slowly. "You know, I was among the first to meet him… I mean her, I did suspect it, but it was impossible to judge back then, but still, a God? How does that work?"
Yalena chuckled, swirling the wine in her glass again. "How does that work? Hell if I know. Magic, divine will, fate—pick one. All I know is, she's not normal."
"She's something beyond us, and she's real. You saw what happened on the battlefield when Mordred fought. You think a normal human can command that kind of power?"
Natasha leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table as she processed this. "So, she's actually all that? Divine, noble, untouchable... but what does she want?"
"Exactly what she says she wants," Yalena replied, shrugging. "Order. Peace. Prosperity. A kingdom where people don't starve, and no one fears eviction or war. She's not about control for the sake of it—she just believes that without structure, things fall apart."
Natasha tapped her fingers against the table thoughtfully. "Sounds almost too good to be true. People like that usually end up disappointing you."
"True." Yalena admitted. "But you forgot, she isn't a person, she is a God, you can't judge her the same way. The way she thinks, it's not like you and me. Even the knights of the Round Table also think differently, which is why I think it might work."
Natasha's lips pressed into a thin line. "You really believe in this… I guess I'm just… too used to betrayals, to distrust, to believe in it as you do."
Yalena smiled softly, a hint of understanding flickering in her gaze. "I get it, Nat. You've been through hell, just like me, just like the others. But that's exactly why I believe in this. Because for the first time, we're not being used or betrayed. We're being protected."
Natasha exhaled slowly, the tension in her shoulders lessening just a fraction. "And what happens if this 'God' turns out to be just another flawed ruler in the end? What happens if she fails?"
"Then the world is doomed. Because what can you do against a God? Weapons mean nothing; you can't kill a god, so let's just hope that never happens. I never was one for that kind of stuff, but meeting a real Goddess changed me, I guess." Yalena replied with a hint of humor in her voice.
The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of Yalena's words settling between them.
Natasha reached for her glass, staring into the deep red liquid. "I almost miss the times when the world was simple; it seems that it grows stranger every day."
Yalena chuckled, leaning back in her chair as she swirled the wine in her glass. "Simple? Nat, when was the world ever simple? We were raised in the middle of lies and war."
Natasha gave a small, tired laugh. "Fair point. I just wish I could figure out where I fit into all of this. I thought I knew, but now I'm not too sure."
Yalena studied her for a moment, her expression softening. "You'll figure it out. You were always the smartest of us, the first to figure out we should flee, the only one smart enough to pull it off."
Natasha took another sip of the million-dollar wine. letting its sharp, unpleasant taste linger for a moment before swallowing it down. "I was the first to run, Yalena. That's not exactly something to be proud of."
Yalena shook her head, a gentle scoff escaping her lips. "Then don't be, but don't go around giving us pity, we don't need it, don't want it. We have moved on, finding a new life here; the young ones have a chance at a normal life; even the rest of us do."
Natasha set her glass down. "I doubt we can ever get that, the Red Room, the scars it left behind, those aren't something that can ever heal."
Yalena leaned forward, her elbows resting on the table. "Again, remember we work for a Goddess, and not just any. One that has the Holy Grail, the power to perform miracles, grant wishes. With that, she could heal us, give us everything those bastards took from us."
Natasha's eyes widened slightly, her fingers brushing against the rim of her glass. "The Holy Grail? You're serious?"
Yalena nodded, her gaze steady. "Dead serious. And it's not some fairy tale. I've seen what she can do, this wine? She made it from nothing, I gave a list of things, and she used the Grail to wish she had it, and boom, it all appeared out of thin air."
Natasha blinked, leaning forward slightly, her voice quiet but intense. "She can just create things out of thin air? Anything?"
Yalena nodded. "Pretty much. Food, supplies, weapons—you name it. It's why Camelot is thriving despite the chaos outside. She's not running on hopes and dreams. She's making things happen, literally."
Natasha leaned back, exhaling slowly. "And you think she'd use that power to fix you?"
"I think it could happen; she seemed a bit unwilling to use it too much, but she is kind. She wouldn't let us go unrewarded, so we work hard because she alone can give us things no one else ever could." Yalena replied confidently.
(End of Chapter)
Damn, Yalena is really spilling all the beans, and here I thought she was supposed to be some kind of master spy... she really has let go hasn't she.