When Natasha opened her eyes, she was standing in the middle of a very large field, just a few steps away from a precipice overlooking a raging river. She stumbled back away from the edge, looking around her. She could only hope that the angel had sent her to the same area Clint had been sent to, otherwise she had a long trip ahead of her. Days, at least. Unless she could find a train - but she wasn't even sure if they'd been invented yet. So she chose the direction that seemed like it might be in vaguely the right direction and started walking.
She spent five hours in the blazing sun, following an old gravel road before she heard a clatter from far behind her. She turned, and saw an old-fashioned wagon hitched to two horses. As the wagon drew closer she made out a family of five: two parents, two boys around ages 14 and 11, and a girl who couldn't have been more than 6. And they were all dressed in medieval-fashioned clothing. Please, don't let me have gone back this far. Natasha thought, but as it was there was nothing to do about it. The family pulled the horses over, slowing to a stop beside her.
"You look exhausted, dear." The woman said in a soft, kind voice. "Would you like to join us? We may not be going to the same places, but we can bring you as far as you need."
"Where are you headed?" Maybe that would give her an idea of where she was.
"A city called Germering - it's small, but it has room to grow, and we needed to get away from the big cities." The woman replied. Natasha let out a breath of relief.
"I'm going to Munich, which is only a few hour's walk from there - a ride would be much appreciated."
"Well then, come in by all means." The woman said with a welcoming smile that contrasted the frightened looks of the children and the apprehensive look of the man. Natasha's work suit and the various weapons strapped to her sides certainly didn't make her look incredibly trusting.
"Thank you." She said as she swung herself over the side of the wagon. The woman laughed.
"Don't thank me now, dear. We have a long trip ahead of us, and with these three little ones you might not be thanking me for long." Damn. Seemed like she'd only been transported in time, not space. "Ah, but I've been rude. My name is Aleyd. This is my husband, Heinrich, my two boys Iwan and Jakob, and my daughter, Amalie."
"I'm Natasha." She wasn't sure why she didn't just think up a new name, but it wasn't like anyone in this time was going to know her, so it wasn't of much consequence.
They settled into a comfortable silence as the time passed, and Natasha felt herself slowly drifting off into sleep.
Days passed - long days of bumpy roads and screaming children and being so hungry she could pass out, because there was no way Natasha was eating these people's food when they had so little already. She pretended to eat it when they handed it to her, then slipped it back into their packs when they weren't looking. The only towns they passed could hardly be called towns, just clusters of small houses scattered here and there around the road. The longer they were on the road, the more anxious she grew - Amanda hadn't exactly been precise about how long the pen and inkwell could stay apart, and then there was always the fact that Natasha really didn't know if it would work at all, or if she'd be able to find Barton. She gripped the pen a little tighter, keeping it firmly wrapped in its cloth. Even good people could do bad things for money, and Natasha didn't want anyone even catching a glimpse of the pen's gold-plated lining.
Another few days, and Aleyd was insisting that they would be arriving in Germering that very day. Natasha hoped she was right. She was just closing her eyes, trying to keep her mind off her stomach, when she heard the clatter of horseshoes and the dull sound of shouting. She jerked up, instantly alert. There were men coming, probably near twenty of them - all on horseback, all with swords at their hip. They circled the wagon, forcing them to pull to a stop. Bandits. Natasha pulled herself slowly into a crouch, trying not to draw attention to herself.
"Hand over all of your food and weapons." One man said - the leader, Natasha presumed by his commanding tone. He was the one to take out first.
"We're simply trying to pass through, we're not here for trouble." Heinrich said quietly. The men jeered.
"And we're not here for trouble either." The leader responded coolly. "If you'll hand over your possessions, your horse, and maybe your wife there -" The jeering grew louder.
"Get down." Natasha murmered to Aleyd. The woman shot her an astonished look.
"Natasha -"
"I said, get down." She pulled herself to her feet.
"Who's this pretty little thing, all dressed up in a man's clothing?" The man said with a raucous smile. "Have you come to surrender yourself to us?" Natasha could feel her anger, now, growing in the pit of her stomach. She would have to do this quickly, get them away from the family. So she jumped out and tried to run - made it a couple yards away before she allowed them to catch her, the leader grabbing her neck with one muscled hand and lifting her into the air, cutting off her air flow. But now the group was a good enough distance from the family, which was all she needed.
Natasha grabbed onto the man's arm and swung herself up until she had his neck between her thighs, and snapped it with a quick jerk before the others could react. Then she was onto the next one - and the bandits were getting over their surprise, drawing their swords and hopping down from their horses to face her. She pulled her knives from her boots, slashing and stabbing and throwing them when necessary. She dodged a sword coming near her, and snapped the arm behind it with one quick movement. She heard the scream of anguish, but she was already on to the next one. She caught sight of the family, staring her with eyes that were wide with horror. "Go!" She shouted, and she could see Aleyd shaking her head even now, even after they saw that she was a monster, but then one of the bandits came toward them and she could see Heinrich saying something, and then clicking the horses until they moved into a gallop.
The moment of distraction was enough for a man to slip up behind her, and she only had the slightest time to move so that instead of piercing her heart the sword stabbed into her right side. She let out a gasp of breath, but she didn't have time to recover so instead she pulled the sword out with a sharp cry, and then ducked another swing. Short and simple, now. But she could feel the days without food taking their toll, and with the wound in her side she was struggling for breath as she took out man after man. She felt a tearing pain in her left arm as a sword glanced against it, and then a blow to the side of her head. She took out two more men before she collapsed to the ground. There was only one man left now, kicking her viciously in the ribs. She would've vomited if there was anything to throw up, but as it was she gathered the last bit of strength she had to twist her attackers ankle and roll away from the sword that came down towards her, before grabbing her last knife and stabbing the man through the back of his chest.
She slowly pulled herself to her feet, one arm pressed against her side to slow the bleeding. She tore up one of the men's shirt, wrapping it around her side and then her arm. Every movement was agonizing, but at least she wasn't coughing up blood. She turned and started walking away from the scattered corpses. It was going to be a long walk.
It took hours, and she'd nearly collapsed a few times. But finally, she could see a city in the distance. She called it a city because, although significantly smaller than what it had been in modern-day, it was still much larger than the towns that they'd passed through on their way. Just another minute. She told herself, forcing a deep breath in. Blinked away the dots that flew into her vision. She was not going to pass out just a few steps away from her destination. So she took one slow, agonizing step at a time until she reached the town. People were milling around, but the chatter ceased when she stumbled into the square. Looks of apprehension, fear, confusion - all of those flew around.
"I'm looking for a man named Clint Barton." Natasha said, slipping into fluent german and making her voice as loud as it could go at this point.
"I know him." A boy, no more than fourteen, stepped into the road.
"I need you - to bring me to him." Natasha gasped out, but her knees were buckling and her vision was growing dim and she had just time to notice that the wound in her side had opened up again before she fell unconscious.