Erynn's pov

It was a miserable day. Black clouds cluttered the sky, showing promise of rain later that day. People hastily rushed about and when the first drops of rain fell the streets emptied as people sought refuge from the downpour. The wrought-iron gate at the end of a driveway protested when a lonesome figure opened it, slipping out onto the streets. The young woman thrust her hands deep in the pocket of her grey raincoat. Her eyes never left the pavement as she walked.

Erynn wasn't the most graceful woman in fact many considered her downright clumsy. She brushed a stray tangle of blond behind her ear only to have it fall forward again. The resolute expression on her face declared, she was a woman with a mission. She knew time was of the essence. The only problem was she wasn't entirely sure she was walking in the right direction.

Her wary blue eyes cast nervously about the nearly empty suburban streets "At least there is no around to bump into." She reasoned to herself. She wasn't familiar with this part of town. In fact she still couldn't believe she was really going through with this. Her hand in her right pocket tightly clutched the white envelope that contained her hard earned savings. Her mind flicked back reflecting on just how many years she had saved, allowances, summer jobs, it all came down to this. She could back out of it now. She could only pray it was enough.

At the next crossroads she leaned against the side of a building hoping to find some relief from the rain while she scrutinized a torn and slightly smudged newspaper clipping. "Slave market," the bold headline made her shiver. "How could they shamelessly advertise such a thing? She wondered. "Why was she getting involved with something so abhorrent?" A small voice in her mind begged her to turn around and go home but she chose to ignore it. "I am not a coward." She told herself even though it didn't convince her even the slightest. It is easy to go with the flow and simply accept life as it comes. It is easy to close your eyes and pretend every thing is all right. But the truth is, everything IS NOT all-right. In fact, nothing has been all right since the end of the war.

Queen Relena's life and her plans for a perfect peace perished the same day when a assassin's bullets cleared the cabinet for a hostile take over of the new government. There were no gundams to set things right this time, and the pilots were public figures. They could not hide behind the shield of anonymity. One by one they were captured and forced into slavery. Two years had passed but the images of those brave boys publicly humiliated, dehumanized, and auctioned off like animals still haunted her. Her family was against the new government but there was nothing they could do; till now. One of the formers pilots was coming up for auction yet again…not as a star attraction to be paraded before the world media but as a simple commodity…an object…warn and broken by what was likely two tears of hell. Regardless, she was determined to have him.

She checked her watch. The auction would be starting in less than an hour. The downpour had lessened to a constant drizzle. With a deep breath She pushed off the wall and resolutely made her way to the auction house. Her skin tingled as she approached as the building absolutely reeked of evil. Two men guarded the door, big brawny and dangerous looking. "Where do you think you're going, cupcake?" One of them cooed when she was about to enter.

"Yeah this isn't a doll convention you know!" The other said with a grin displaying a mouth full of yellow teeth behind his sausage lips. Both of them laughed.

Erynn was shaking on her feet but she did her best not to show. "Pffft how very caveman of you." She replied, lowering the hood of her raincoat. "I'm here to possibly purchase a slave and you are hindering me." She tried to act cool, like this was an everyday occurrence for her. "Hey Ed, she is here to 'possibly purchase.' We are terribly sorry your highness and pray you shall forgive us. Please enter and be welcomed." The first one grinned, making a mock bow as he stepped aside.

When she was allowed to enter Erynn could not contain a sigh of relief. Then as her eyes adjusted to the spectacle inside that sigh turned into a gasp and her blood ran cold. Slavery was prompted by the new government, the media made it seem almost institutionalized. Sure she knew it was wrong. She knew loosing ones freedom was a horrible thing to in force on anyone…but she even in her nightmares she hadn't imagined it was this bad. Twenty slaves, naked or nearly so, were chained to the wall in the back. They were battered and grubby she could clearly see cuts and bruises marking their clearly underfed bodies.

Hey move it lady!" A firm push between her shoulders made her stumble down the stairs. She couldn't bring herself to look up at the slaves knowing she would throw up if she did. But not looking up would mean she couldn't see the pilot, which meant she would not be able to buy him free.

She numbly let the crowd sweep her along. It was amazing how many people knew of the market. It was even more shocking that seemingly normal looking people actually wanted slaves. Sure she was here, but she just wanted to help the pilot she could not believe the anticipation and greed she saw on the faces of those around her. Finally Erynn pushed through the press of bodies and made her way up to the a small stage bearing the number she had seen on the newspaper clipping. She had a photo from a magazine article showing five pilots as they had been Victorious after the first eves war. She hoped the one she was looking for was not so changed that he was no longer recognizable. She heaved a great sigh and waited for what was to come. It didn't take long. Green-eyes, there was no mistaking those green eyes. They had lost their fire eyes it seemed and the young man seemed to stare dully at a random spot on the wall. His clothes where ragged and she could see various scars, some were likely souvenirs from his life as a warrior but others were still raw, barely healed. Several were not healed at all red and angry with infection. Her heart ached to see Trowa Barton seemingly broken, mind and spirit.

She approached him cautiously. In this crowd no one paid any attention to her. "Trowa..?" She whispered. There was no response. She gently stretched out her hand to tough his shoulder; again, nothing. His skin was damp and cold, lifeless almost, but for his shallow breathing. Erynn grasped his shoulder tighter shaking him slightly. Finally she got a response. His face lifted a fraction and almost in slow-motion his haunted eyes focused. She saw curiosity, pain and fear mirrored in those mossy green orbs. A jolt of adrenaline flooded her veins and emotion coiled in her abdomen. She tried to convey encouragement and hope with her smile. "I'm going to get you out of here." she said softly. She wasn't sure he heard, or was even capable of understanding her words but she had no time to repeat them as a violent jerk of the chain around his neck tore him from his place on his knees and up onto the stage where measly existence was once more bartered for cold hard coin.

He was too weak to stand properly and his uncooperative limbs nearly sent him to the ground again. If not for the slave master's hold on his collar he likely would have went sprawling. This served only to further incite the crowd. She could barely hear the man's angry shouts over the laugher and jeers. Apparently the slave master took Trowa's weakness for resistance and the man slapped him angrily. When the Ex-war-hero was finally positioned appropriately on the dais and stripped of the tattered rag that had once been a shirt the crowd quieted to hear the auctioneer wax-poetic over the boy's flat abdomen and firm torso in attempt to drive up the price. The green eyed youth let it all happen stoically but she could she him twitch slightly when the slave master moved his hand across his abdomen and buttocks. Then the bidding began. It was fierce at first but no one could deny that the luster had worn thin on this particular piece of 'merchandise' she just might have a chance.

"200 credits," A sour faced woman called when the initial fever had slowed.

"500 credits!" The new high bid came from a weasel of a man in a battered hat. There didn't look to be anyone willing to contest him. "Five hundred credits, going once," the auctioneer sang out. "500 credits, going twice…"

Erynn fingered the envelope in her pocket. It was now or never. Taking a deep breath she said "1,500!" The crowd gasped. No one in his right mind would bid that much for a run down pilot, even if it was a good trophy. After that a silence remained. Erynn didn't realize she held her breath, everybody stared at her. "1500 credits." She said again, gasping out of breath.

"The lady bids One thousand And Five hundred credits!" the auctioneer echoed as if he meant for her to take it back. "1,500, do I hear 2,000? Two-thousand anyone" The slave master looked around but no one moved." he didn't mess about saying going once…going twice this time he banged his gavel on the podium and called out "Sold!" before she had time to reconsider. "Pay the man and claim your prize." He smiled.

Erynn felt sick but she forced her body to move toward the brutish man she had seen manhandling Trowa on to the stage. She tool the envelope out of her pocket as if in a daze willing her hand not to tremble.

"That is a lot of money to carry around young lady. Didn't steal it did you?" The slave master teased.

"Would you care if I did?" She snapped impatiently. Her eyes where already on Trowa. All she wanted now was to get out of this place as soon as possible.

The slave master shrugged as he tugged the envelope from her grasp. He thumbed through the bills with practiced ease. He would not be taken in by counterfeit currency. After ensuring that the promised amount was there he yanked the chain clipped to his belt once more, forcing Trowa to move. The pilot tripped and fell to his hands and knees, angering the slave master growled and raised his fist to backhand the visibly cringing slave. "Stop!" Erynn jumped in between the two. "He is mine now, mine to discipline as I see fit." She took a deep breath and handed him a few more wrinkled bills. "Here is a 100 credit bonus to see us safely out."

"Just sign the papers missy. You've already paid twice what that lousy piece of useless filth is worth."

Erynn took the pen mechanically and made a near illegible scrawl then shoved her copy of the document in her coat pocket. The man was telling her how to successfully manage her new purchase and suggesting that she had gotten in over her head. He even went so far as to suggest that she had no business here and should not come back; As if she planned making this a habit! She patently ignored the man too numb to listen anymore. She kneeled down in front of the pilot, unchaining the shackles around his wrists and ankles nearly gasping at the sight of the raw flesh she found beneath. "I'm sorry. I am SO sorry. You'll be all right, I promise. You will be all right." She found herself muttering, though she wasn't entirely sure if she was trying to soothe him or herself. He regarded her strangely as if wondering how her words applied to him. He looked lost waiting for her to TELL him what she wanted him to do. Comprehending finally she asked, "Do you think you can walk for a short bit?"

Trowa nodded. It seemed he regained some strength and spirit. Erynn smiled at him offering him a hand up which he silently accepted. "It's not too far." she ensured him, wrapping her arm loosely around his middle for support again she was shocked at how cold and clammy his skin felt. She wished she had thought to bring him something warm to wear…or an umbrella at least. Her raincoat would have a difficult time shielding them both and he surely couldn't run home in this condition. A taxi … since she had not had to bribe the man she could afford a taxi home. She thought with relief.

Trowa's pov

Trowa silently accepted the girls help. He didn't quite understand what was going on. It was incredible hard to focus his mind. His life had been such hell he wasn't sure if he'd been drugged or not. His new mistress hadn't hurt him yet. That seemed like a promising sign. But you could never know. Her blue eyes seemed full of emotion that was for certain …pity maybe? He wondered, didn't know what to think. She seemed gentle as she helped him up the steps, for now, that was enough.

The streets were wet and there were oil slick puddles everywhere but the rain had clearly stopped. A brisk wind had cleared the clouds away. It seemed as if he had not seen the sky for weeks on end. One day slid into the next and he truly had lost all sense of time passing during his endless days of servitude. He blinked his eyes against the bright sunshine but as he walked his lanky form half draped over the girl at his side he gradually felt his strength return. The fresh air was doing him good and he almost forgot the dark place he had been, he almost forgot he was still a slave—almost, but not quite yet. He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes and noticed she was looking at him as well. She smiled kindly "You okay?" She asked only to slap her forehead with her free hand. "Stupid question…" She scolded herself as he watched her in surprise. "I can be such an insensitive dork sometimes." She realized.

Trowa could only gape at her. It had been so long since ANYONE had even considered his welfare and Longer still since anyone had spoken kindly to him. It seemed that the other pilots had been the only ones to have ever truly care for him…and Catherine of course but even though he knew she cared…she hadn't really understood him. Slavery had made his memories of that time hazy and his heart ached. What would she think of him now, broken as he was? He wondered then pushed the thought from his mind with a shiver. His new mistress was speaking to him again. He had to learn what she wanted…had to do what was expected…he didn't want to be hurt again. He was so lost in his thoughts he wasn't even aware of the ride home. The slam of the taxi door made him jump and he trembled with fear.

"Trowa, I promised I'd get you out and I have. You don't have to be afraid. You will be safe with me." She told him. It was strange to hear the gentle intonation of her voice and he felt himself relax for the first time in ages.

"Thank you…" the words came out in a thin rasp barely audible. Even before this last war he hadn't been all that talkative. More recently he had spent so much energy trying not to cry…or scream he couldn't even say how long it had been since he had last tried to speak.

"Do you know this place?" his new mistress asked absently using her foot to nudge open the huge, iron gate at the end of a driveway. Why she hadn't ordered him to shift it for her was beyond him. Did she really think he was THAT weak? Wait she had asked him a question…the house…more mansion really. He squinted and cocked his head to one side. It certainly seemed familiar. Why? He wondered for a few heartbeats then it came to him. It was Quatre's! Or at least it had been once…before they had all been captured. He could feel his jaw drop.

The girl smiled widely. "My family bought this place, hoping we can return it to the rightful owner when the time is right."

Trowa could only nod. He couldn't believe it was all real but she opened the front door and let him into the family room to seat him on the couch. "My family stays in London this summer but when I heard about the slave market I figured we ought to stay here for a while." The girl continuously chattered. "My name is Erynn, by the way."

Slaves don't have names. Even before that he hadn't really had a name. But she had named him earlier. Twice she had called him by name. Would she beat him if he used it? He wondered. She stood regarding him with warm blue eyes. Tentatively he whispered "Tro…Trowa." It took more effort than he ever imagined to wrap his mind around those simple syllables when he finally managed to give them voice his body betrayed him and the exhausted pilot collapsed, falling into a deep, deep sleep.