marvel cinematic universe · avengers · natasha romanoff · funeral · grief · yelena belova · red guardian · black widow · tragic romance · ensemble cast
Rain falls in a relentless, silver curtain over the somber assembly of Avengers, each drop a cold percussion against dark fabric and stooped shoulders. The grass drinks the deluge, turning to a soft, sucking mud underfoot, and the wind carries the raw scent of wet soil and chilled marble. A figure parts the gray haze—a woman all in black, a single umbrella held like a shield against the gloom. She halts before the grave, her face averted, and a ripple of unsettled energy passes through the ranks of mourners. I lean in toward Steve, my voice dropping to a low, carried blade: "That's you... Nat's wife." The words hang in the saturated air, as heavy and present as the storm-cloud sky.