No matter how long Steve had served as this country's monarch there was one thing he could never get used to. The thought that someone could own another human being and offer them as a gift. Like one would a necklace or book. Most nobleman under his reign had realized by now that Steve didn't agree with the idea of slavery, given all the work he'd put into making things at least better for those considered slaves.

Steve wished he could do away with the practice entirely and was making strides towards that end, but to simply do away with it without setting some groundwork would no doubt cause an uprising.

But every once in a while, usually after Steve's expanding borders had enveloped a new neighboring country, a nobleman would show up with slaves as gifts to try and curry favor. Steve wasn't entirely trying to dissuade them from doing so either. After all, it was much easier to make sure these 'slaves' were properly cared for under his own roof and pretty much all his closest friends, and best advisors, had been 'gifts'.

But this was different. The man being offered to him now was a criminal, an assassin who even Natasha feared. Kept in heavy chains and a muzzle like some kind of rabid animal. And people who did bad things, hurt others and broke the laws willingly, Steve felt there was some justification in having them serve as laborers as punishment, though he loathed sentencing anything much harsher.

Except, this man was different.

According to the man gifting him the assassin, an Alexander Pierce, they (being Hydra, the leading scientific organization in the country who served directly under Pierce, and Steve resolved right there to make sure every part of it was shut down in its entirety) had discovered a way to control someone. To wipe away everything that made them a person and turn them into whatever the owner desired. It would have sickened and horrified Steve in any situation, but there was one thing no one here knew or realized.

Because as Pierce took off the man's muzzle-like mask, Steve's stray thought that the assassin's eyes looked familiar turned into an overpowering unnameable emotion that felt something like heartache and horror. Because he knew the assassin. Knew him intimately. Loved him as completely as a human being was capable of loving someone. It had been years. More than fifteen years since they had been separated, with not even a whisper of his beloved's fate. After so long Steve had been forced to accept as the truth that his beloved must have died.

Steve wasn't sure if this was worse. Death at least would have been faster, but now, maybe, Steve could help him. Help Bucky, because Steve could no longer think of him as simply an unnamed assassin. Do for him what his beloved had once for Steve and bring warmth back to Bucky's eyes. Maybe they could even have another chance at a life together before death claimed them.

It took a monumental effort to keep his face from showing any of the mess of emotions that was coursing through him. Steve knew he wasn't entirely successful, his friends positioned around the throne room were not fooled, but it was enough to keep up appearances with those who didn't know him. There was a long pause before Steve took a quiet breath through his nose and forced himself to say "Your gift is certainly interesting, Lord Pierce."

It was subtle but his expression turned smug at the words. Steve hated it. "I'm glad to hear you say so, sire." Pierce said. Steve glanced at his shoulder and waved Sam forward. Sam, since Steve always had him do this, stepped forward at the signal and accepted the chain attached to the collar around Bucky's throat. Steve's heart wrenched at the thought.

Bucky didn't so much as twitch, nor did he make any move to stand even as Sam started slowly walking away. Pierce coughed quietly and when Sam met his eyes he put on a political smile. "He only responds to direct commands. He had no will of his own, unless it is in service of a mission." Pierce explained. Sam swallowed and hesitated, because he firmly agreed with Steve's policy against slavery. Pierce's smugness grew and he abruptly kicked Bucky. Hard. Bucky didn't even flinch. "Soldier, on your feet." Pierce snapped.

Instantly Bucky began to move. The way he moved was unlike anything Steve had seen. He moved like water, like gravity and human anatomy were nonexistent concepts for him. But there was something missing, some intent gone from his actions, that made him seem like a puppet on a string. He was only moving because he'd been told to and nothing more. Steve was both enchanted at the effortlessness and horrified by everything else.

Pierce gestured to Sam, who swallowed hard and finally said "Soldier, follow me." His voice was strong, the same one Sam used to direct Steve's guards when he needed to.

Bucky didn't move and Steve wondered briefly if Sam had to be more forceful, maybe strike him (he hoped to god not). But as Sam started walking again, Bucky followed, staying exactly the same distance away from Sam that he'd started at. He didn't look around the room, his eyes didn't so much as flick away from where he was staring blankly at the chain in Sam's hand. He just… walked forward like a ghost.

Sam led him out of the room and Steve could breathe easier. Sam would take care of him and all Steve had to do was dismiss Alexander Pierce and then he could be with Bucky. Of course, in practice it was not nearly so simple, but still. He had Bucky here, in his home and once again by his side; everything else could wait.