That night, as Jack fell asleep while the sun was going down, exhausted from a game he invented that had them jumping and running across the small cell for hours, Natasha sat in the opposite corner from the boy, tracing circles in the dust that gathered on the worn wooden floors. For what felt the hundredth time since they had been taken from The Nightingale, Natasha found herself thinking of John. Their last encounter played in her head over and over again in any moments of quiet that she had, from the way he wouldn't even meet her gaze when she asked him for the truth, to the way he pulled her back when she tried to walk away, his eyes heavy with emotions.
For most of her imprisonment, she had been furious at him, overwhelmed with the idea that he had been so willing to deliver her to the men who had slaughtered her village, kidnapped her family, and sent soldiers out to find her. The knowledge that he had made that deal to trade her life for immunity to sail the seas as a pirate left her nearly shaking with anger and filled with hurt so intense she felt the ache deep into her chest, but the longer she had to sit with what he had done, the more her anger faded. The hurt was still there, but she had also begun to reach a level of understanding, knowing that, for whatever reason, he had made that deal with Easton the first night that they met, when she was nothing more than a stranger running to him on the beach for help, before they even knew each other's names. Even more so, he had gone back on his agreement with Easton within days, after their first conversation and he offered to help her, seeming genuine despite what she knew about him now.
The anger she felt towards him had faded away the most she thought of him, the hurt she had felt had even begun to disappear as she tried to convince herself that John had only offered Easton that deal because they were strangers to each other, as she told herself repeatedly that he had tried to keep her safe over the last couple weeks. Now, thinking of John, she mostly felt overwhelming sadness, as the idea that she might never see him again brought forth a sort of pain and anxiousness that she hadn't anticipated feeling. Thinking of Alexander in those quiet moments too, she felt the same way, although she was not surprised as the sadness she felt over possibly losing him. Alexander had easily become a companion to her, a confidant in her voyage away from home to save her family, and she missed the safety she felt when she was standing with him.
Both men were at the forefront of her mind as she sat in the dark, her fingers creating random patterns across the dirty floor, when the door to below deck opened and a warm glow from a lantern cast light upon her pictures and the dark space around them. Natasha stood as the sailor descended the stairs and approached her cell, finding a familiar face from a sailor who had brought them dinner the previous night. As he came to stand by the cell door, Natasha crossed the space towards him, glancing back over her shoulder once to ensure that Jack was still sleeping.
"Captain Easton has requested your presence," the sailor said, unlocking the cell door. Natasha instinctively stepped away, crossing her arms protectively over her chest, looking down at the sailor's hands for any signs of the cuffs that had been used on her the last time Easton summoned her. Thankfully, she saw none in his hands as they pulled open the cell door.
"You can tell Easton I'm not interested in dining with him again," she responded evenly, forcing herself to keep her voice low, hoping she wouldn't wake Jack. He had managed to laugh and smile, genuinely, for the first time since they were kidnapped as she indulged in the game he had invented earlier, and she didn't want to dampen that lightness in overwhelming darkness by having him wake up to another sailor taking her away.
"He instructed me to inform you that either you join him this evening, or the boy dies." Natasha watched as the sailor's hand navigated towards his sword, and she instinctively stepped so she was between the door, her body tensing with anger, her fingers clenching at her side as she wished for her own sword to be hanging from her belt.
"Fine," she exhaled, her jaw tense as she stepped out of the cell, waiting by the door until it was locked behind her to ensure Jack was alone inside, and then headed for the stairs, the sailor following close behind her.
The atmosphere on board The Nereus was noticeably different from the last time she was forced above deck, primarily because many of the sailors were absent from the main deck. As Natasha crossed the space, looking around, she realized why. In the near distance to her right, small dots of warm light cast reflections across the dark water, confirming Henry's earlier comment, Natasha that they had docked for the night. The lights of the village caught her attention, only when the sailor yanked her back did she realize that they weren't heading all the way across the deck towards Easton's quarters. Instead, they stopped only halfway, and the sailor had pulled her towards the edge of the boat, where Easton was standing with a second sailor.
"Good evening, Ms. James," the Captain greeted her, and Natasha had to actively contain the scowl that begged to form on her face.
"Are we going somewhere?" She asked, looking past Eason at the familiar set up of a rowboat hanging over the edge of the ship, supported by ropes. Her heart quickened at the idea of leaving The Nereus, knowing that as long as she was on board, she was safe from anybody on land who was seeking to find her. Setting foot on land meant she was more vulnerable, and she had no way of knowing what Easton had planned.
"No mood for pleasantries, it seems," Easton responded, looking annoyed, and the words sank into Natasha's heart as she remembered her first conversation John, and how he had said those same words to her when she insisted on asking right away what had happened to her father. "We'll have to work on that," she barely heard Easton continue talking. "Matter's well discuss along the way, we're already late." He waved his hand, and the sailor behind Natasha took her arm and moved her towards the ship's edge. She pulled her arm away from him sharply, refusing their help as she climbed overboard and dropped into the rowboat, settling onto one edge. Easton followed, sitting across from her, and the two sailors joined behind both of them. As the boat lurched, lowering them into the water, Easton continued speaking.
"Now, there are a few matters to discuss about the night ahead of us," Easton continued, and Natasha had to resist the urge to roll her eyes at the way the words sounded, as if they were merely discussing business as two partners, not a young woman and the man who had kidnapped her and was ultimately leading her to her death. She didn't respond, letting him continue in his speech as he sat up straight, squaring his shoulders, clearly appreciating the attention he thought he was getting from her. She was only barely listening to him, though, looking off just beyond his head at The Nereus retreating into the distance.
"When we first land you'll be brought to a local dressmaker who will clothe and prepare you appropriately," he started, and as much as Natasha wanted to continue ignoring him, the words caught her attention. "Afterwards, you will accompany me to the governor's ball."
"Stop," Natasha held up her hand, talking loudly over Easton until he stopped, looking mildly annoyed. "First you kidnap me in order to deliver me to the most powerful people in our land who only want to kill me, then you lock me and an innocent child in a cell for three days with barely any food or water, and now to expect me to play dress up and go to some ball, after threatening to kill Jack if I didn't come with you, as if none of those things I just mentioned mean nothing at all."
"Precisely, and do you know why?" Easton leaned forward, clasping his hands together in front of him, a disturbing glint in his eyes as the faintest, uncomfortable smile pulled up the corner of his mouths. "You will do exactly as I say, whatever I say, because if you don't, you can be certain that those close to you will suffer immensely. The boy, the pirates, even the friend you think you found in one of my men." Natasha immediately thought of Henry, wondering how Easton knew about the conversation she had with the boy earlier in the day. "Have I made myself clear?" Natasha looked down at her own hands, her jaw tight with tension, but didn't respond to Easton. He seemed to take her silence as acceptance of his terms, and continued his spiel about what he expected her to look like and how he expected her to behave while they were at the ball. He finally stopped once they reached the dock, and they walked in silence, Natasha following Easton and the two sailors in silence, until they reached what she assumed to be the dressmakers' shop. Staring up at the building, she felt the familiar pain in her heart as she thought of the last shop she had been at.
Easton and the two sailors stopped at the stairs, and Natasha knew she was to go in alone. Slowly, she climbed the few steps, but then stopped to look back at Easton. "Why are you making me do this?" She asked, looking down at him.
"Isn't it obvious, my dear?" Easton replied, his voice pleasant, but falsely so, as it sent a chill down her spine, worsened by the way his eyes scanned her figure. Natasha visibly shuttered and turned away from Easton immediately, stepping inside the shop, despite how little she wanted to, just to get away from Easton's leering gaze.
Inside the shop was surprisingly warm and inviting, candles hanging from the ceiling in an intricate metal design that cast warm glows against the clothing set up throughout the space. The space was clean, the dresses even more beautiful than the ones she had seen in the village near hers, and she felt immensely out of place amongst the exquisite pieces of fabric, even more so when a young woman came gliding from a room at the back. She was tall and thin, wearing her dark hair pulled up high upon her head, glittering gold pendants hanging from her ears, a similar pendant hanging on a chain around her neck. Her dress was a deep red and swirled around her elegantly as she moved, and even the way she spoke to Natasha told her that she was somebody accustomed to a higher standard than she had ever seen.
"Ms. James?" She drawled, her voice low and think. Natasha nodded, her hand reaching up instinctively to the own chain around her neck, the locket hidden underneath her shirt, finding a small amount of comfort in the feeling of the cold metal pressed between her fingers and her chest. She hoped Easton wouldn't notice it and make her remove it for whatever appearance he wanted her to keep up.
The woman, who introduced herself as Dana, set a hand on Natasha's upper back and started leading her towards the room in the back she had come from. Natasha followed reluctantly, stepping into the room where two other girls, as equally beautiful and gorgeously dressed were waiting, a cream-colored ball gown spread out across their outstretched hand. In the back of the room, partially revealed behind a thin wisp of a curtain, was a large bathtub, and despite how the idea of bathing in front of others made her feel, the idea of simply having a bath, a real one and not just the ocean water making her smell perpetually of salt water, was too tempting to pass. Thankfully, Dana and the two young girls left her alone to bathe, and as she sat on a long bench afterwards, wrapped in a sheet of the softest material she'd ever felt, she couldn't deny how much better she felt after the most simple of activities that she had missed.
When Dana and the girls returned, they picked up the dress as well as something that resembled a nightgown, and approached her. They first pulled the dress that resembled a thin nightgown over her head, and to Natasha's surprise, it fit perfectly around her frame. Then one of the girls, who looked about her age with honey colored hair and green eyes, approached her with a more stiff piece of fabric, small and mostly squared shaped, with ribbons that tied the two pieces of fabric together. Natasha watched as the girl set the fabric against her waist and then came around her back and then pulled roughly. Natasha gasped and couldn't help the swore that escaped her lips as the fabric compressed her torso painfully.
"What is this?" Natasha exhaled, finding it hard to breath as the stuff fabric compressed her lungs as well, pushing up her chest. She laid her hands across her stomach, feeling the fabric tighten even more as the girl behind her bound the ribbons together.
"A corset, ma'am," she responded in a small voice, and an accent that Natasha had never heard before. She looked down at the fabric, making a note to ever avoid having to wear a corset again. Once the girl finished tying it, she and the other young girl, possibly her sister, helped her into the cream-colored dress, surprised at how well it fit. As one of the girls bound her into the dress, the second started working her hands through Natasha's hair, brushing it and twisting it into curls before pinning them to her head. The process felt as if it had taken hours, and when Dana's workers stepped away from Natasha to give Dana the final look of approval, Natasha felt antsy and on-edge.
Thankfully, Dana found no faults with the work her girls had done, and lead Natasha to a mirror so she could see the work they had done. Looking at her reflection, Natasha hardly recognized herself. The layer of grime she had acquired, especially over the last few days as a prisoner, had been fully washed away, and whatever they had mixed with the bath water had left her skin glowing and smelling of roses. Her dark hair had been twisted intricately into knots at the nape of her neck, a few loose tendrils framing her face, curling as they dried along her jaw. The dress was what truly made her look like a different person, however, as she had never worn anything even a fraction as beautiful as it.
The neckline of the dress was lowcut, exposing more of her upper body than she would have ever cared for, especially where the silk fabric dipped down slightly at the middle of her chest. The sleeves rested off her shoulders with thick layers of fabric, intricately decorated with a lace pattern that reminded her of leaves of a tree. When the fabric reached her waist, it loosened, transforming into a different texture than the silk bodice. It brushed against the ground delicately as she turned around in the mirror, trying to take in as much of the dress as possible, in awe at its beauty and detail.
As gorgeous as the material was hanging from her frame, the layers of the skirt made it full and awkward to move in, especially with the shoes she had been given to wear, which had a heel higher than anything she was used to wearing. It took her a few paces back and forth across the room until she felt comfortable enough walking in them to leave the backroom and head slowly, reluctantly, towards the door where Easton was waiting.
Outside, she found that two horses pulling a sort of carriage had pulled up outside the shop, and Easton and the two sailors were already sitting inside. One of the two exited as she came outside, offering her a hand to help her up the step into the carriage. As much as she could have liked to reject his outstretched hand, she couldn't have been able to climb in otherwise, with the layers of her skirt falling heavily around her legs, so she took the sailors hand as she stepped into the carriage and situate herself beside Easton.
As the sailor climbed back into the carriage and sat across from her, his eyes lingered for longer than she felt comfortable, Natasha looked down at her hands in her lap, focusing on them as the carriage lurched forward, and beside her Easton made a comment that made her stomach lurch with uneasiness. She had already dreaded the night ahead of her, and now, dressed uncomfortably in foreign clothes with no means to defend herself, she felt even worse.
*****
A/N: Happy Wednesday! I hope you all are having a great week! :)