Natasha sat on the row. Her hands and feet were shackled to the bench and appreciative glances were thrown her way. She snarled and shifted uneasily. Peter was sat three people away, his head bowed in sorrow and tear tracks clearly visible on his grimy cheeks. The square was bustling with people, all rich and wealthy settlers eager to see the fresh meat.
The auction started and she was hauled to her feet, roughly shoved towards the stage. As she was manhandled up the steps, flanked by several guards, whistles and hoots rang through the crowd. Cat calls were made and money bags were brought out. She couldn't help her lip curling in disgust, her eyes briefly meeting Steve's who's neck was hanging through a noose. Apparently the executions came after the auctions. She'd much prefer to be swinging from a rope.
Natasha shook off the guards and stood on the platform with her head held high, her hands and feet shackled in chains. She glared stonily into the crowd of potential buyers and couldn't help but recall the last time she'd been in this situation. She'd been a slave before, sold off to a rich bastard who'd tried to take immediate ownership. He wasn't like the others, he was smart and ruthless. There was no escape. When she ran, he found her. When she hid, he caught her. She'd thought that her only escape was death, she'd made her way to the docks and walked to the very edge of the harbour wall. An anchor from one of the merry little boats was secured tightly around her waist and she closed her eyes, breathing in the salty air for the last time.
Just before she took the plunge, a soft voice had called out. A soft voice coming from the mouth of a beautiful man. But Natasha had had her fill of beautiful men and turned her back to him, stepping off of the edge.
She hit the cool ocean waters and was pulled down by the heavy anchor. Bubbles and foam rushed past her as she sank further into the depths. Her feet had barely brushed the disturbed silt when something yanked at her shoulders and she was thrust upwards. Naturally she kicked out and tried freeing herself but there was no escape. She felt the knot around her midsection loosen as the rope was slashed through and the weight disappeared, making her rise to the surface even faster.
The strong arms wrapped around her held her firmly even as she tried swimming downwards. They carried on kicking with swift movements and it wasn't long before they broke out into the air. Natasha coughed and spluttered whilst her unknown 'rescuer' hoisted her up onto one of the numerous jetties. "What the hell were you thinking?" He pulled himself out and glared at her.
"You should have left me."
"And what? Let you die? Why would I let a pretty girl like you throw it all away." She turned to him in anger.
"See! All anyone cares about is the pretty girl's looks. No one cares what the pretty girl feels. I don't want to be pretty, but I wouldn't expect you to understand. You're all the same, all of you!" She took in his expensive attire and almost started crying out of frustration. "You're one of them aren't you?! I was so close, so close to finally being free. You ruined it, he's going to punish me and I'm going to be stuck with him for the rest of my miserably life or until he decides I'm no longer good enough and then I'll be passed around like a good for nothing whore." She swiped away the tears angrily and stood up.
The handsome stranger looked slightly overwhelmed and bewildered. "What?" Was his only response. "Are you a prisoner or something?" She looked at him incredulously.
"I'm a slave." She pulled down the sleeve of her dress and showed him the inked tattoo of a red eagle. The stranger frowned in concern.
