Celaena just needed to breathe. The guards didn't care, as they shoved her back to that dark cell. She needed real air, and space to clear her thoughts, but such things were luxuries in Endovier. Her heart was beating wildly, and she felt as though she may faint. Since she had been shoved into that mine that morning, she had known something was different, that something was wrong. Despite the dark, and the delirium, Celeana didn't stop counting the days. She had no chalk to assist her, to mark the walls, like prisoners in books had had, but she was Celaena Sardothian and she was sharp enough to count days even in a hellhole like this. The sky was dark, but Celeana could feel the presences behind her, the leering guards. There were fewer than normal; there weren't supposed to be, but today they were likely off drinking somewhere, or gambling. Away from this cursed place. She didn't care where they were, as long as they weren't here. At least it gave her a chance.
When the staff that had been prodding her along came the next time, she grabbed it, using it to swing round and knock out one of the guards behind her. There were only four left, though their shouts for assistance echoed around. She didn't have long now. Holding the staff as though she were to use it to balance, she winded two more of the men and it took less than one unsavoury grin for the other two to flee for help. She needed air, that's all she wanted. Sprinting as fast as she could, which wasn't as quickly as she wanted due to her weakness, she made for the nearby mound of raised earth. She was sure she could hear the shouts of guards, but they were far behind. Or far enough behind for her to do what she needed.
Celeana gasped as she looked out, over the whole of the slave mines and over the barbed walls of Endovier. She couldn't see far, just the forest, but it was enough. She could breathe again. Smiling through her tears, Celeana breathed and stared out over the forest, imagining she could see all the way to that small apartment in Rifthold, or better yet, to the boat that would have taken her away from Erelia all together. The shouts got closer, but Celeana blocked them out, squeezing her eyes tightly shut. She didn't open them till she was sure she felt a hand brush against her own, but she didn't look at the figure, for fear he would disappear. More tears ran, and she let out a breath as phantom lips kissed her cheek, before drawing back. So gentle, so familiar. She couldn't help herself, and she looked to her side where the figure had been moments before, and now, there was only air and mist. Turning her head back to the trees and the hope she needed to cling to if she was to last, Celeana nodded. "Happy New Year, Sam." Her whisper was the first words she had spoken in so long, and her voice was hoarse, but she needed it to be said, so that some part of her could pretend that it was heard. With that, she let her last tear fall. They would not see her cry.
When the guards reached the hill, the assassin did not struggle as they gripped her and pulled her back to her cell at sword point. She only moved once, to tilt her head in the hope that she would see the outside one last time.