A/N: Another peice of Circle of Magic fanfic from me. I've now read all of TP's Tortall/Circle books, I'm proud! They're all wonderful. Anyway, this is a fic based off of information in The Will of the Empress and Melting Stones about Briar, Rosethorn, and Evvy in Gyongxe. Warning: dark and violent, the rating is for a reason. Some language. Please read and review!

Words: 2756
Characters: Evvy, Briar, Other
Time: Between Shatterglass and The Will of the Empress
Genre: Angst/Hurt/Comfort

Disclaimer: Everything you recognize belongs to Tamora Pierce. Not me.

EDITED

A single, grimy lamp illuminated a dank room. It was dungeon-like and square, with what looked like water but smelled like sewage leaking in through one corner in the back. Three walls were made of stone. The fourth side was made of metal bars, rough and rusted but thick and immovable, with a single door that could only be unlocked by the few red-coated guards that remained in the dark pit where prisoners were kept. Evvy's toes barely brushed the slimy floor. She wore only a thin cloth sack, a thin thing that was yellowed, old, and torn, with rips for her arms and her head. Her arms were suspended above her head by sharp, cold chains around her wrists, fixed firmly into the wall by a lock and clasp. Similar cuffs bound her ankles.

Her whole body ached from the position; her head hung limply due to fatigue. She stared at the ground, not really seeing anything. All she could feel was pain. Blood, aches, slashes; all of it had become far too familiar to her lately. Breathing hard, Evvy focused on just staying alive, consciously aware of every heartbeat. Between the hazes of hunger and pain, simply holding her eyes open was a challenge.

Distantly, she heard a clang, then heavy, lazy footsteps coming toward her from the corner of the cell. Evvy tried to raise her head and glare or resist, but the strength wouldn't come. A rough hand yanked her chin up instead. Two inches away from her loomed the distorted, filthy face of a man, too dirty and dark to distinguish any clear features except for tiny eyes. They were black as pitch, glittering, menacing. The man bared yellow teeth and puffed foul breath over her, breath that smelled like raw meat and death and rot.

"Aren't you a pretty one," he said, an evil smile curling across his face. A silver tooth flashed in the darkness. His proximity drove a fresh wave of fury and adrenaline through Evvy's body.

"Let me go," she spat, straining against the chains around her wrists and ankles. The man, a Gyongxe soldier and prison guard, slammed her body into the wall with his fist, knocking the air from her tired lungs. She felt her shoulders crack, her elbows and knees flattened unnaturally, blood dripping from fresh scratches across her back. With one hand, the man grasped her bound wrists, and with the other, he shoved his hand under the sack to her bare chest, grinning.

He ran his hand from her chest all the way down to her legs, where he unlocked the cuffs on her ankles. He did the same with the cuffs at her wrists, but he used his own strength to keep her pinned there, every inch of his filthy body pressed against hers. Evvy bit her lip until it bled to stop herself from screaming again. Twisting and turning, Evvy tried again to get away – but her captor only laughed and held her all the harder.

"Don't even try, wench," he growled. Flickers of saliva landed on Evvy's cheeks, and she winced. The soldier smirked. Now he slid his face closer to hers, the stench of his breath becoming nearly unbearable. Coughing weakly, Evvy tried to jerk her head away, but he grabbed her chin, forcing her back to face him. "You're going to look at me when I break you," he hissed, anger and lust resonating in his voice. Terror clamped around Evvy's heart.

Don't give in. Don't give him what he wants, Evvy thought determinedly, shutting her eyes tightly. The soldier didn't like that at all. He slapped her hard across the face, and then stepped back, leaving Evvy to drop to the floor, helpless. Her head hit the floor with a crack; deep throbbing accompanied the stars that danced in her vision.

"Don't make me mad, you bitch," the soldier said from somewhere above her. Looking up, all Evvy could see through the blinding pain was a glowing red, the fabric of his imperial uniform. One of his metal-toed boots pressed against the back of her hand, harder and harder until she felt her fingers break.

Evvy couldn't hold back a scream; the sound tore at her throat and made her ears ache. There was a brief pause – the sound of something being drawn from a belt – and then the soldier targeted her feet instead. Something hard and cold slammed against her bare toes and the arches of her cracked feet. Evvy winced, curled instinctively into a pathetic ball, crying. Slap after slap after slap rang out in the room. She was close to something, some blackness, that had to be death, she thought; it was relentless. She gasped and writhed on the ground, all thoughts gone from her mind, leaving nothing but the pain, the agony. It took over everything. Involuntary tears streaked through the grime on her cheeks.

There was a pause in the beating, and in her shakily returning consciousness, Evvy heard the metal tool clatter the ground before she was hauled roughly back to the wall. For a few brief seconds, her dead feet were on the floor, but her legs couldn't support her. The only thing keeping her upright was the soldier's tight grip. "Tell me what I want to know," he whispered, "and I'll stop. Tell me what your accursed plan is. Tell me where your companions are."

"Never," breathed Evvy. Another slap stung across her damp cheek.

"Tell me!" the soldier shouted, furious. He hit her with closed fists in the ribs, in the stomach, in the head, until her whole body was bruised and limp.

Unconsciously, Evvy opened her mouth, about to speak, to end the pain and the tears – then clamped it shut at once, horrified at herself. No! She couldn't let her body betray Briar or Rosethorn, ever, no matter how much pain she was in. Evvy tried valiantly to connect to her magic – Briar had said once there was always power in the nature around her.

But in these harsh walls, the stone's power was so buried that Evvy didn't know if she had the strength to find it. Another fist landed in her ribs. Think, Evvy, she told herself fiercely, distracted by each new shock of pain. How could she stop herself from speaking, from thinking, from feeling?

An idea came into her mind, somehow pushing its way through the haze. She was pressed against cold, hard, dead stone – but it was still stone. She could always work with stone. Feeling deep into the cage around her, Evvy tapped into the buried source of her own magic, the heart of the stone in herself. Like Luvo. The rocks around her, worn-down and degraded, were weak in their hearts – but they were enough. Thinking fast, Evvy pushed all of her senses, her entire being, around the warm heart of the stone inside herself. With her concentrated power, she had just enough strength to search deep, deep, deep into the near-impenetrable walls around her.

And finally, she felt their hearts, beating in time with her own. It was so comforting, so familiar, like the old friend that she had never had was wrapping his arms around her and warming her, healing her, loving her. Pulling the stones' power into her body, Evvy created a wall of crystal around her heart, until she felt nothing but sharp, steady stone in her mind, body, and soul. Not a single sparkle of magic was visible to an external eye. The crystal protected her secrets, captured them inside herself so that no matter what happened, no matter how hard she tried, she could never reveal them unless the crystal was broken. And nothing could break the crystal, for it was her heart, the heart of her magic.

The soldier was aware of nothing. He let Evvy drop the floor once again and drove her face into the ground until all she could taste was dry dust. But this time, Evvy didn't speak; she didn't gasp; she didn't scream. Hold on, she told herself fiercely. Hold on for Briar, for Rosethorn, Luvo, the people –

"Bitch! Filthy street-rat, low-born, open girl!" the man shouted. Evvy rolled over, retching nothing and trying to fill her tired lungs with anything other than the stale air in the cell. She heard the soldier storming away, throwing the metal door shut, and leaving her whole body so beaten, broken, and torn that Evvy wondered if she would ever be healed again. Her crushed fingers made her hand useless, her bruised feet made walking impossible, her broken ribs made gasping each breath seem so pointless.

But her mind remained cool and calm. She would never say a word, would never betray her friends, even when he came back. Her crystal was her shield.

A chain jangled somewhere a few paces away. Vaguely Evvy heard more movement and grunts, the sounds of a struggle. A door slammed; a man laughed. Someone stumbled into her cell, but Evvy didn't have the strength or will to look up. It would only be the soldier again, back with another tool, perhaps a knife or a mage, to try and coerce her into spilling all her secrets. Opening her eyes wasn't worth it. It hurt even to twitch her wrists and ankles; they were bleeding and raw from ropes and chains around them.

"Well, lookie here," Evvy's imprisoner said, a vicious laugh in his voice. "Look at who was snared in our little nets." He kicked the body that had just fallen into the room.

Evvy forced her eyes to open and forced her head to turn to the man on the floor rather than the boots of her captor. The new prisoner's dark hair was matted with blood, and two long slashes crisscrossed on his arm and shoulder, visible through torn and dirty clothes. He was on his knees, his arms and legs bound, his head down in exhaustion, shame, or fury, Evvy couldn't tell. Blood dripped from a cut under one puffy, black, closed eye. He had bloody feet and hands, too. Hands that were covered in moving, living green tattoos of plants and vines. They were wilting and weak, as powerless as the man before her.

Briar.

The cell door slammed; the soldier must have left, roaring with his victory. Evvy's mind whirled, thoughts conflicting and crashing like an earthquake – Briar was here, he was with her, but he was captured. Not free. But with her. And all of a sudden, he crystal around her heart shattered like glass, despite all of her efforts and all of the strength it took to create. Her heart beat too powerfully. "Briar," she whispered from painful, cracked lips, pushing herself to her sore knees. Her limbs shook underneath her, and when she tried to support herself with her hurt hand, she nearly collapsed again.

Briar looked up at once, his one good eye wide and fearful. Somehow he moved towards her, raising his bound wrists so that he could hold her face in his torn, tender hands. "Evvy?" he said incredulously. Evvy nodded, tears forming behind her eyes. She shut them quickly; salt irritated the cuts on her face.

"By Lakik, Evvy," whispered Briar, his gaze scanning over her body. "You – you're - "

He trailed off; his voice was weak and shaking. Evvy couldn't tell how much pain he was in. But she knew that she herself must be barely recognizable after all that had happened. Her body was still screaming its protests in her mind as she tried to move and speak to him. Briar's hands left her face and instead he lifted them over her head and gently pulled her close to him, holding her as if he would never see her again. Resting her head on his chest – there was fresh blood on his shirt, but she didn't care – Evvy could feel his heart beating rapidly. He was alive. She wasn't alone. "Rose – Rosethorn?" Evvy managed. Her voice came out scratchy, and she had to cough painfully. "Luvo?"

"They were together, last I saw," murmured Briar in words only she could hear. The guard might have still been right outside the cell; Evyy had no idea. "She was trying to get into the castle by the – by the bottom passage. We got separated… there were too many people."

He shuddered, and Evvy used her good hand to find his and hold it carefully, aware of the tender state of both of their bodies. "She's tough." It still hurt to speak, but Evvy kept talking, needing her own reassurance. "She'll be fine. Rosethorn always is."

"I lost her," said Briar bitterly. "First you – I didn't know where you were, anywhere, and now Rosethorn…."

"Shh!" hissed Evvy desperately, throwing up her hands to cover his mouth. Just that movement made her shoulders cry in agony, but she ignored it, concentrating instead on Briar. "Don't say that, Briar, it's not your fault – it's the soldiers, and - "

But she stopped short as Briar pulled away from her slightly, looking at her face; his eyes were wide and dismayed as he looked at her. His hands moved to her cheek and traced over one of the many cuts and bruises that she didn't even know she had. He looked at the ripped sack she wore, her broken, deformed hand, and her black and blue, useless feet. "What happened?" he breathed, dismayed.

"You don't look much better yourself," Evvy replied softly.

"But you," Briar insisted. Evvy turned her head away.

"It's nothing."

"The soldiers." Realization crept onto Briar's face, mixed with anger and horror and pain. "They did this to you. Because of us."

"Briar, don't – it's not your fault!" Evvy said again, her voice an urgent whisper. "It's my fault that you're here, that you got captured. You shouldn't have taken any risks because of me, and now you're – you're – "

She winced and stopped talking when her head throbbed violently. Unfortunately, Briar must have noticed, for he let out a frustrated sigh and hugged her close again, taking care to not cause any more pain to her already aching body. It took only a moment before Evvy's final resistance fell. The last of the sharp crystal shards dissolved out of her body and left her defenseless, with only Briar as her support. "I won't let them even touch you again," he said, his voice laced with suppressed emotion. "I won't let them get anywhere near you."

"Briar," Evvy protested. But her heart wasn't in it anymore. She closed her eyes and leaned into him, so glad for his presence, so glad for his protection. She could forget about the pain, forget about the fear, forget about the danger. He was the friend she had felt before. The one who meant as much to her as her magic and her life and her heart. They heard the bang of a soldier's sword on metal bars in the distance, and both of them flinched instinctively.

They could forget for a while, perhaps. But not forever. "We must get to Rosethorn and Luvo," Evvy murmured, her eyes closing against her will.

"We will," promised Briar. "Rest, okay? If you can?"

"I'll try."

And, in his arms, she was asleep before she knew it. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd slept. Her mind was simply too tired to continue functioning. Now, she didn't even have the fear and adrenaline to force her to stay awake like she'd had before Briar came. Evvy didn't hear the continued crashes and bangs of soldiers, or the occasional, muffled scream of a prisoner. But Briar heard them all, and at each one he held Evvy closer. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, ignoring the rusty, metallic taste of blood from a scratch on her head. He closed his eyes to try and block out the noise. Resting his head on hers, Briar let a tear fall from his eyes, and had to bite his lip to make sure that he didn't make a sound and wake his student.

They would never forget. Bodies and blood and death danced behind Briar's eyelids, and he wanted to scream to make it all go away.

It never would.