Title: Unbreakable
Author: homesweethomicide13
Rating: T
Pairing: None specific
Warning: Violence, torture
Disclaimer: I wish
Summary: When Barda is captured and tortured by a Shadow Lord servant, he proves just how unbreakable he is.
Unbreakable
They came to him less and less these days. In the beginning, he'd never been alone for more than a minute at a time, and not in pain for even less. He'd started to wonder what the time before this had been like, when pain wasn't his constant companion, when the darkness didn't surround him every hour of every day. He could barely remember sleeping on anything but the solid ground.
He'd long ago lost feeling in his arms, which was probably a blessing. They'd been shackled to the wall above him for three days now, the cold metal cuffs digging into his wrists. Although he did not feel it, he knew that the skin around them would be raw. He had slight feeling in his shoulders, but his entire body was so used to feeling pain that the ache was barely noticeable. If the stone floor was cold, he could no longer tell. He had no idea of how much time had passed since he had first been thrown into this chamber. It could have been days, or it could have been years.
No one had come for him. But then, what was he to expect? He didn't even know where he was. For all he knew, he could be a million miles from Deltora, though he doubted he was too far from the Shadowlands. There was also the possibility that his friends didn't know he was missing – plenty of ways to fake a copy of him and have it walk and talk as if he were still there.
The sound of grating metal jolted him alert – he'd been resting, his head leaning against one arm, coarse stubble rubbing against his bare skin. That was something he'd found odd – whenever his beard grew too long, someone came in whilst he was sleeping and shaved him. He'd never asked why, nor did he particularly care. It was just… unusual. He lifted his head, tired eyes focusing on the figure that strode into the chamber, followed by two minions.
"Ah, you are awake. Such a shame. I had hoped to slap you awake." He knew the voice. He'd heard it mock him so many times.
"Sorry to disappoint." He murmured with a slight laugh. He shook his lank hair out of his face.
"Your friends have yet to rescue you, have you noticed?" The figure began to pace around the chamber slowly. "Perhaps they have already forgotten about you. Perhaps they never cared."
"You would not understand friendship, since it is plainly obvious you have no friends, no companions." In a flash, the figure was at his side, and a heavy boot was being slammed into his already bruised and damaged ribcage. He coughed a little on impact, and there was a slight hiss of pain, but a moment later and he was laughing quietly. "I had a feeling you would resort to violence so soon. Is it too much to ask that we have a conversation once in a while?" His tone was mocking. He knew it would not do him any good, but he did not care.
"I would have thought after so long you would have learnt your place here, worm." Another strike – fist to the jaw, this time. His head jerked to one side and he let it stay there for a moment. Spitting out blood, he turned and fixed his eyes on the figure's face. It was another copy of that foul creation Prandine, of course. Halphane, this one was called. He grinned easily at him, and then spat blood into his face. "How dare you! You are nothing but a weak, useless excuse for a man!"
"More than I can say for you, H." He growled. "Now, was there something you wanted? Or can I go back to not caring?"
"My master knows you have knowledge that we desire. Knowledge that concerns the Toran female, Marilen. She remains at the palace, though not as a bride to the pitiful king."
"What can I say? Lief's dashing good looks just melts her heart. She cannot bear to be away from him for more than a few minutes." He smirked. Halphane backhanded him hard enough to draw more blood. "Alright, alright. That was a bad one, I know. Forgive me, I am running out of lies to tell you." He laughed again.
"I think being locked away down here has done something to your sanity." Halphane remarked with a sly smirk. "Maybe if we keep pushing, you will finally snap."
"Oh I am pretty stretchy when it comes to the mind, H. Go on, keep pushing. I wager you will be the insane one before you are even close to snapping my wits." There was a challenge in his voice now. "You think you can slowly scratch your way through my thick outer shell, get to what you believe is the soft, weak core. Well, sure, keep on scratching, mate. Just do not be surprised when you find that I am even tougher on the inside."
"You talk too much." The boot came down again, this time into his jaw. Blood spattered over the floor, and over his bare chest. He coughed violently, more blood spattering the floor, and dribbling down his chin. He flexed his jaw muscles cautiously, and winced when pain flared up. Dislocated again. Biting his lip, he turned and smacked his own face into the hard wall, relocating his jaw.
"Much better." He grinned. "You know, my old chief used to tell me I talk too much. He observed our training once, and I was talking down my opponent. Handy thing, though. Makes them lose focus, takes their mind off the situation at hand." He only laughed when another punch was thrown his way. The chains around his wrists jangled as he moved slightly, leaning closer to Halphane. "For example, you have forgotten what happens when you get too close to me." He swung out with one leg, his foot planting itself in Halphane's throat. The vile thing fell backwards with a strangled gasp, and clutched at his throat. "See? Works like a charm."
"This is not over. You will pay for what you have just done." Halphane clambered to his feet and scurried to the door. The metal grated against the stone floor, and then there was the telltale sound of a key in a lock.
Barda leant back against the wall, and laughed.
"The master will get this knowledge, and it will use what it knows to destroy your precious friends, and your world." Halphane was back a few days later, his throat still deeply bruised.
"Really now? How fun for all of you." Barda smirked. "But you will fail, you know that, right?"
"Be quiet!" Halphane had tools with him this time, and now he sliced open a shallow wound in Barda's chest with a long, thin blade. Blood trickled down over his skin, pooling against the waistband of his trousers – or, what was left of them.
"You know why evil always fails, H?" He murmured, ignoring the pain and the blood, keeping his eyes on Halphane. "Sure, you have your schemes, your many plans, your vile creations and monsters that do most of your dirty work. You have power, lots of it, and you have the added bonus of not caring who you hurt or destroy to get what you want." He paused as Halphane brought the hilt of the blade down on one knee, and there was the crunch of bones. Barda just laughed. "See? Bet you did not even think twice about doing that. That is what make you all so apparently powerful. But yet you still fail. And I will tell you why. The good guys, the ones fighting against you, we have something you could never hope to achieve, nor to understand. This one little thing might not seem that much to someone like you, because you do not understand the meaning of it. No, you are far too caught up in your evil schemes to actually stop to think about it."
"I said, be quiet!" There was a long pause in dialogue as Halphane just about lost it with him, beating him, slicing him, injuring him any way he could. When he stepped back, breathless, Barda was black, blue and covered in blood. And yet, he kept his eyes on Halphane.
"We have the strongest weapon of all, you know?" He grinned. "Love. Trust. Family and friendship. Honour. Loyalty. Determination. We live together and fight together. We believe in each other. We trust each other. We are loyal right to the very end, no matter what."
"If that is so, then where are your precious friends and family now?"
"They will come. They will come when they can. That is what they do." Barda shrugged as best he could, given that his arms were still shackled above him. "They know me, better than you or your precious master does. They know I can take care of myself, can handle anything you vile things throw my way. You have not broken me yet, H, and you never will!"
Time passed by. Halphane returned more often now, most of the time just to let out some frustration by beating and wounding his prisoner. A couple of weeks later saw Halphane sitting opposite Barda, an axe balanced across his lap.
"I killed a man with an axe, once." Barda murmured. "Shadow Lord spy. I had been following him for some time. Then, one day, he tries to kill Lief. Nothing new there, you guys just cannot get enough of trying and failing, can you? I was nearby, saw him lift a knife. I barely hesitated for a second before I grabbed the nearest weapon and sliced him in half. I shall never forget it."
"If you do not quit yapping, you shall be sliced in half." Halphane growled. Barda grinned darkly.
"No, that will not happen. Your master still requires my knowledge, no? I am certain that there is a rule in place here. I am not to die. Beat me to within an inch of death, by all means, but I get the feeling that if I am killed, then you will be next in line."
"You are lucky my master seems to think your life is important."
"Oh, look at that, I was right. Guess I am a bit smart, after all." Barda tilted his head back, resting against the wall. "Smart and stubborn. How many times have you come here, H, thinking that maybe this time you will break me, maybe this time I will crack and tell you everything you need to know? About the same amount of times you have walked away cursing your failure, I would wager."
"Perhaps I should cut out your tongue. That would stop this noise."
"But then, if I ever did break, you would never hear what I had to say concerning the knowledge your master requires. You really are pretty stupid, are you not?" Barda laughed. "And I thought Glock was dim-witted…"
"Hold your tongue!"
"Or what? You will slice it off?" He grinned. He knew all the right buttons to push now. He knew exactly what would frustrate Halphane to the point where he would once again resort to a good beating. "Face it, H. You shall never break me."
"I severely doubt you will last forever."
"I would sooner die than tell you anything." He smirked. "That there is determination. We talked about that, some time ago, do you remember? It is one of the things that aids the good guys in defeating scum like you."
"Silence!" His hand clenched around the handle of the axe.
"My old chief once said something about a palace guard. He said, 'he could be the strongest, bravest, fastest guard in the whole world, but it means nothing. What makes him so strong, so hard to defeat, is his loyalty, and his determination.' Well, H, wanna play a guessing game?" Barda laughed. "Who do you think the chief was talking about, hmm?"
"I do not care."
"Oh, but you do. You know he was talking about me, and that irks you because now you are starting to realise that you will fail here. I remain loyal to my friends, my family, my king, my land. My loyalty prevents me from saying anything that you might use against them. But it is my determination that means you will stand beside my lifeless body before you learn anything of use. For I am determined to get through this, determined not to let you win. I am stubborn, always have been." He leant forward, shoulders twinging in pain as his wrists pulled against the chains. "I shall let you in on another little secret. When I am determined enough for something, I usually get it."
A few minutes later, after Barda had acquired some new wounds and fresh bruises, Halphane resumed his seat opposite the beaten and broken man chained to the wall.
"You vent your anger onto me because you know I do not fear you." Barda murmured slowly. "You thought I would be afraid, thought I would talk the moment you started torturing me. I have faced far worse things than you, H. Not even your precious master scares me." He laughed, low in his throat. "I have faced Vraal alone, fought vicious monsters, battled pirates, travelled upon a dragon in the dark of night, nearly died more times than I can remember." He smirked. "That is the thing about me, H. I am very hard to kill, and even harder to break. How long will it be before you learn that? You will not succeed. I am Barda the Bear, palace guard and Deltoran hero, and the man who will one day rip you apart very slowly as payment for every sliver of pain you have caused me."
Halphane did not return for another few days. When the door swung open, Barda lifted his head, expecting to see that foul thing's face sneering at him. He was pleasantly surprised to see three faces instead of one – and three familiar faces.
"He is in here!" It was Jasmine, as wild as he remembered. Lief was at her side, his sword drawn and already shining with blood. Doom was at her other side, his sword in a similar state to Lief's. The man ran forward, wielding an axe in his other hand, and made short work of the shackles on Barda's arms. As his arms dropped to his sides, Barda smiled.
"Knew you would come for me." He murmured as Doom lifted him into his arms.
"Never doubted us, eh?" The scarred man gave him a rare smile. "Lief, Jasmine, round up the others. I cannot fight if I am to carry Barda. I have no doubt that he is unable to walk."
"They are on their way." Jasmine told him. "Kree flew to them once we found the chamber."
"Oh my… what have they done to him?" Lief whispered, staring at Barda's wounds, his bruises, and his scars.
"Think of it later, Lief. First we must get out of here, and get him back to Del."
Barda's smile grew as he allowed himself to slip into a much needed rest. His friends had come for him, just like he knew they would.
When he next awoke, he was lying in a soft bed. He was warm, and the pain had lessened to a dull ache. He lifted one arm – which still felt strangely light and unusual – and noticed it was bandaged up. Struggling to sit up, he glanced down at himself. He was covered in bandages.
"Barda!" His friends had been clustered around his bed, and now they were all alert and staring at him, surprise and relief in their eyes. "You are awake!"
"They… they could not…" He murmured. "Could not break me." He began to laugh, quietly at first, and then louder. A few of his friends shared concerned looks. "Do not fear. Could not break me. Too strong. Too loyal. Too determined. Cannot break Barda." He fell back against the pillows, a smile on his face. "Home." He whispered, before falling asleep again, leaving his friends to murmur their concerns about his health, and his stability. Only Doom watched Barda's sleeping face, another rare smile tugging at his lips. The others could talk about insanity, but he knew. He knew that feeling, knowing that they hadn't broken you, that you were still who you were before the torture, before the pain.
He knew. He'd been there.
Author's Note: This was just a little idea I had that wouldn't go away. I might write a companion piece or a sequel, I'm not sure. Barda just strikes me as the type who would live through torture, bear it, because he's too loyal to betray any information he has. Anyway, let me know your thoughts! - homesweethomicide13