Yay! My first multi-chapter Victorious fanfiction in quite a while! My first AU! I hope you enjoy it. I know this first chapter is a little grim, but hold on, because I promise the whole thing won't be like this.

The dungeon was cold and damp. It smelled of mold and rotten rain. Footsteps of the guard echoed through the stone hallway.

In the cell at the end of the hall, a dark shape huddled in the corner. He didn't know how long he'd been there; there were no windows or clocks to tell the time, but based on his hunger, he figured it had been close to a week, maybe five days.

In all this time, no one had fed him. His once-muscular chest was now thin and flabby. He could count each of his ribs with ease. In fact, as he'd had nothing better to do, he'd done just that. He found he had twenty ribs, ten on each side, and he later discovered two smaller ones in his lower back. So twenty-four.

His beautiful shiny hair was now just a tangle of stiff, blood-clotted strings. He had a few painful, infected wounds scattered across his body. One of the scratches right under his left eye had swollen up so much that he could barely see from it anymore.

Though he was quite the formidable sword-fighter, five knights had come at him at once, and they were older, tougher, and more heavily armed. He hadn't stood a chance, but he fought until they captured him. So now, here he was.

The guards paid him no mind; it was obvious he'd never escape from the cell which was made entirely from stone and cement, save for the wall separating him from the hallway, which was constructed of sturdy metal bars.

By this time, he was only barely alive; he hadn't eaten since before the battle in which he was captured, and the pain in his stomach was unbearable. He knew he would have died of dehydration earlier, but his damp, moldy cell had a few puddles of scummy water on its floor which he had eventually become desperate enough to drink from. He only drank it when he had to.

And when the guards weren't looking. They had refused him food and water on what he had assumed to be the second day, and he never asked him again. His pride would not allow him to beg, or to let them catch him lapping up the filthy floor water like a mangy hound.

And somewhere in the back of his mind, he was afraid if the guards caught him drinking it, or eating the strange moss—perhaps it was fungus or mold, but he didn't really care—that was on the walls, the guards would have his cage cleaned out. Then he'd die for sure.

Yes. This is what Prince Beck Oliver of the Kingdom of Topaz had been reduced to.

And yet, he never forgot how lucky he truly was. Grim as the situation seemed, he was the most fortunate of his unit. The others who had been captured were executed almost immediately after being brought here. But Beck still lived.

When he slept, it was a painful, tortured sleep, filled with the nightmares which forced him to relive the skirmish which had landed him here.

He recalled his pride when his father, King Joshua Oliver, had positioned him at the head of the company which would attack the Kingdom of Rowana. It was his first big assignment, something he had dreamed of ever since he could remember.

His squadron had gotten through the battlefield, which stretched for miles all the way across the length of the border between the kingdoms. Once they were inside of the enemy Kingdom, they'd stealthily made their way through the pheasant towns, only having to fight a few of them. It was in the capitol city, the city of nobility, where they had run into trouble.

They were trying to attack the castle directly, but they had been confronted right in the middle of the City of Icean. They were severely outnumbered by heavily armored knights, and only about half of them had escaped with minor wounds.

The others weren't so lucky. They had been dragged back to the castle where their execution had been arranged. Beck was almost among them, but the King of Rowana, Edmund West, had come down to inspect the prisoners for himself. All of them were in pretty bad condition, so he shrugged most of them off and ordered their death. But then, he came across Beck.

"So you're this troop's leader, are you?" He had sneered. "Fine job you did, getting your people captured and killed before you even make it to the desired battle ground. You were trying to get to the castle, right?"

Beck had bared his teeth and given the King a defiant glare, refusing to answer the question.

King Edmund had only thrown his head back and laughed. But when he peered down at Beck again, his face became more serious.

"Wait just a moment," he muttered. "You're the Prince!" He turned to his troops and gave a victorious laugh. "Look, knights! You've captured the Prince of Topaz!" He roughly shoved Beck forward for his people to see.

The knights thrust their swords in the air and cheered triumphantly. Behind him, Beck heard his troops muttering in shame and anger. He scowled and glared at the King.

"Don't worry," he said smoothly. "We won't kill you just yet. You could be a valuable asset in winning this war, so we'll keep you around for a bit."

He turned back to his people. "Shapiro!"

A boy about Beck's age stepped forward. He had a head of crazy, curly hair which was nothing like Beck had ever seen, and large glasses, unlike the small spectacles which were common in Topaz. Was this how people of Rowana dressed? If so, he thought it was thoroughly ridiculous.

"Yes, Your Majesty?" Shapiro said, bowing to the King. Beck then realized he must be a Messenger of Rowana, one of the few people allowed to travel freely across the border without trouble.

"I want a message delivered to the King and Queen of Topaz. Tell them we have their son, and if they do not surrender the war by the next full moon, they won't see him again."

The Messenger scribbled out the words on a scroll of parchment. "Right away, sir, right away!"

"Yes, make haste," the King murmured. "We want them to have as long as they can to make up their mind." He glanced at Beck evilly. "Hurry along now, Robbie."

The boy—Robbie Shapiro—exited the hall.

"They're not going to give in," Beck growled at King Edmund.

"Oh?" The King raised an eyebrow.

Beck snarled. "My parents know that the Kingdom comes first. They won't give in, and that's exactly what I'd expect of them."

"Then you, Prince Beck Oliver," the King whispered, "are doomed."

And that's when the guards had taken him to the dungeon, where he had stayed with his hands bound behind his back, for days.

It was looking hopeless. Now Beck could only hope that his parents would find the strength to pull through and win the war when he was gone.

So there's the first chapter! Jade hasn't come in yet, obviously, but we'll get to meet her and Cat next chapter.

I hope you all aren't too confused about the whole world they're in. If you have any questions, just message me—I'll be glad to answer them.

Also, I'm always open to suggestions! Only a few parts of this plan are set in stone, so if you have an idea, I'd love to hear it! I'm not promising to use it, but I will definitely look. So send in those suggestions! And please review. The more I get, the more I'll write.