#desk instead of talking to me taking five mins to talk to an agent book a ticket in tatkal | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theimaginesyouneveraskedfor · 6 years

Text

Relic ~ 11

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten

Tags: @omgcupquak3stuff @dora3374 @the-butterfly21 @oakenshieldgisborneandwinchester @everyjourneylove @russian-empress @cd1242 @the-lupine-sojourner @ara-toa-min

(sorry to those who I can’t tag for some reason. If you like, you can message me and I’ll just start sending you the link to the chapters as they come out)

Add yourself to the taglist here

THREE MONTHS LATER

It’s always difficult changing one’s routine. After so long at the museum, it felt as if you were starting over again. At first you had thought it a tragedy; on par with those of the Ancient Greeks and Shakespeare’s unending repertoire of doom. And then you had come to accept it; embrace it even.

Had you even been happy working in the stuffy museum?

Until James had mysteriously appeared and aroused your suspicion of some mythical history thief, there had been little excitement. Without him it would have felt wrong to stay. At least telling yourself that didn’t make your departure feel like a ridiculous mistake.

You had quickly cleaned up after the CIA and begun the tedious process of having your possessions stored and moving back home. Your mother didn’t mind the company so much and you couldn’t stand being hounded by agents. You still spied the occasional eye watching you, knowing well you would not so easily lose your tail, but now you didn’t have to reminded of all you had lost.

You pondered applying at another museum but you had enough saved to take some time to figure it all out. In the meantime, you sold articles to scholarly journals and even managed to give a few talks at those conferences Holly spent so much of her time at. You were fortunate enough not to have run into her yet, but you assumed it may be due to her lack of an assistant.

It felt like you were taking a breather. Immersing yourself in research, rekindling that old curiosity which had driven you to your field, was intoxicating. And after your run in with underworld operatives and government agencies, you wanted to reveal all you could. All the history you had ever known was coloured with conspiratorial underlining and cruel reality.

You couldn’t blind yourself with the narrative you had painted in the gallery. Staring at the past as James had. You wanted to know more. You felt like a child who had waded into the deep end. Truly though, you missed him.

It was preposterous that someone you had known for only a few months should affect you so much but you couldn’t help it. There was much about him you wanted to know still. That you needed to know.

“Y/N,” Your mom called from downstairs as you shuffled through the books and papers which blanketed your desk. It was like your university days. Hidden behind a barricade of words; the queen of your castle, “You’ve got mail.”

“Mail?” You echoed, “Alright. One moment.”

You moved the open folder from your lap as you almost dropped it and stretched your arms with a crack. You spent too many hours bent over your desk and your mother’s warnings about your posture were starting to resonate with you. At least in the museum, you could walk around on tours or set up displays.

You nearly tripped down the stairs, entering the kitchen where your mother was cooking dinner. The smell of onions and garlic filled the air and you looked at the clock in surprise. Time passed when you locked yourself in an office with your blinds drawn.

“I thought you would’ve grabbed it yourself,” She muttered as she pointed to the counter with a knife, “I don’t think it’s healthy for you to be cooped up there all the time.”

“It’s how I make money, Mother,” You replied, “Which I don’t see you complaining about when I cut you a cheque.”

“Just take your mail,” She rolled her eyes, “It’s quite fancy for regular delivery.”

You looked to the envelope; black with a silver line down its flap. It was a letter sized packet and you had never seen anything like it. Eager, you tore open the lip and dumped out the thick stack of paper within. Your mother watched between chopping, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“Well, who’s it from?” She asked impatiently.

Dear Y/N,

It is the our honour to inform you that you have been selected as one of the speakers from your country for the Wakanda International Historical Conference. After reviewing your qualifications, we have found you to be an ideal candidate for our lecture series and hope you can join us.

This year’s inaugural theme is Hidden Imperialism: Past and Present. Your paper should be fully edited and ready for presentation upon arrival. Within we have included any resources you may need for your last-minute touches as well as an outline of the event.

Thank you and welcome to Wakanda,

The Wakandan National History Commission,

And His Majesty; Prince T’Challa

Your eyes were wide and you could barely breathe. You hadn’t given much thought into the application as you had believed it to be a long shot. Instead you had carelessly ticked the boxes and revised an essay you had written far too long ago. You didn’t truly recall when you had submitted it and thought it was some twisted joke.

“I’m going to Wakanda…” You said dumbfounded and your mother took the letter from you, “I can’t believe it.”

You had watched on the news as Wakanda’s borders had been opened to the globe and you had never dreamed of seeing it yourself. Now you would be part of a history conference which would bring the world inward and the country outward. You really needed to pinch yourself. Ow.

“Congrats,” You mom smiled handing back the letter, “It’ll be nice to get a break.”

“Hey,” You shook your head, “ You know, I still have another month to prepare so you’re stuck with me until then. I have to go make sure all my documents are in order, too. And what if I can’t go because of all this stuff with the CIA?”

“Don’t worry so much, you’re starting to sound like me,” Your mom laughed, “I’m sure it’ll be just fine. Just don’t go getting eaten by a leopard or whatever beasts they have over there.”

“Mom,” You sighed, “I’m not going to be in the middle of the Savannah.”

“You never know,” She shrugged, “You remember when that Koala attacked you at the zoo. You’ve a knack for attracting trouble.”

“Don’t remind me,” You muttered, looking at the letter once more. There was much to be done before you left.

#relic #fic #series #marvel #mcu #Bucky Barnes #part 11

55 notes · View notes