The Rise of Athena (An Arrow: Season 1 Fanfiction)

Chapter 1: The Гамбит (Gambit)

(When it's in italics it's a flashback; just thought I'd let you know) 

Two years earlier...

I hugged Oliver, wrapping my arms around his neck. He gently returned the hug, giving me his signature smirk. 

'Be safe,' I whispered in his ear. His breath tickled my neck and sent delightful shudders through my body. 

'I will, Lil' sis,' he replied softly. I hugged him tighter. 

'I wish you didn't have to go.' He let go of me and stepped back. 

'It'll only be a bit on the ocean with Dad. I'll take plenty of photos and be back before you know it. I promise.' He kissed my forehead tenderly, letting his lips linger before letting go. 'I love you, Evelyn.' He smiled softly and walked away, waving to me before getting on the boat with our dad. I moved closer to Moira, my mom, as she leaned her head on my shoulder, giving another wave, watching the boat pull out from the harbour, as it set out on its little journey. 

I hoped I'd see Oliver again. 

Unfortunately, that wasn't to be. 

I screamed and awoke. The sound of the dripping roof from above me snapped my senses back into focus. The rope burned through my wrists and I struggled to gain focus, the dim lighting of the Russian warehouse igniting my senses for the millionth time that night. I tried to remember what had happened the night previous before I was put here. I remembered the mafia boss, his hands all over me. I shuddered, feeling suddenly quite sick from that interaction, as I did the previous nights that this routine went on. Then I was tied up here and would wait for the next day to roll around. Then I would wear skimpy dresses and attend meetings with the mafia boss, who had put me in some sort of arranged marriage with him. He was handsome, with dark hair and keen green eyes that pierced into me and sent shudders of fear through my body. I didn't love him, though. Not at all. My eyes flickered up to the dirty, somewhat cracked windows as I watched the moon roll around, shining its dim light onto the cold, hard concrete floors. It was then that I got a good look at myself. I was wearing the same clothing from when I was first taken, all those years ago in Starling City. 

I felt bitter in the silence. Bitter that I was taken from my home. Stripped of every basic right, even over that of my own body and mind. Stripped of privilege, of the life that I once knew. My family. They must be worried sick. Mom... Thea... Tommy... the rest of the family. Dad... Oliver... no, they weren't around anymore. Two weeks before I was taken, we got the word that the Gambit was sunk in some kind of storm, or freak accident. My thoughts were interrupted by a loud sound. I jerked my head around, nearly giving me whiplash. I heard it again, clearer this time. A gunshot. Then a scream. I looked around frantically, trying to seek the source of the screaming and the gunshots. After hearing a few minutes of a scuffle, and some more screaming and gunfire, there was silence. Growing frantic now, I began to tug on the ropes binding me to the pole, stretching my arms at an ungodly length. Every time I pulled, my shoulders burned. 

'Help!' I screamed. 'Help! I'm right here! Help me!' I heard the sound of shoes clicking on the floor and the sound of a gun reloading. 'Help!' I screamed again. Just then I heard a knife being unsheathed and I looked back and forth, but still, I couldn't see anyone. I screamed again. 

'Shh,' I heard a man's voice say. He put his hand over my mouth. The hand was rough and calloused; smelled like guns and ironed suits. I tried to fight him, but he kept his hand there. 'I save you,' he said in a Russian accent. I was confused. Then I felt the knife sawing through the ropes. Just then I heard another man speak in a Russian accent, this time in a language that I could only assume was Russian. 

'Почему мы ее забираем (Why are we taking her)?' The voice was deep. I had no idea what he was asking, but I listened anyway. 

'Она невиновна. Не заслуживает быть здесь (She is innocent. Does not deserve to be here).' 

'Where are you taking me?' I questioned in English once the mystery man took his hand off of my mouth. 

'Somewhere safer,' the same man replied, in English this time. 

'Who are you?' 

'Sleep,' he said, and I felt a sharp pain in my neck. 

'What the hell?...' I droned off, but my eyes were drooping fast and they closed, not of their own accord and I fell asleep. My last thought was soft, on the tip of my mind. 

Please don't hurt me.