One for sorrow 2

The metal doors clanged loudly, open and shut. Footsteps echoed loudly through the hall, coupled with loud scuffles and dragging sounds. Phin dragged himself out of the makeshift pile of rags and dirty straw he had been using as a bed, gazing blearily out into the corridor. The armored thugs that did the wizard's bidding were dragging in a large group of skinny, raggedly dressed boys, locking them in the cells closer to the doors. Into the cell next to Fye's they threw the smallest of the lot, barely more than a limp bundle of rags. It landed next to the bars between the cells, with only a quiet whimper to argue continued life.

Fiyero hauled himself to that side of his cage, reaching through to check on the child. The pulse was steady under the bruised and filthy skin, and he pulled back, even as the small form shivered and flinched. Frightened grey eyes regarded him through snarls of dark hair, long ears twitching slightly in apprehension.

"Easy there, little one." The blond witcher soothed, keeping his tone gentle. "What's your name?"

"Name?" came a confused murmur. "Whelp, brat, waste of space. I don't know."

"Ahh, hush, little one. It's alright then. Who brought you here, where did you and the others come from?

"Danza's orphan house. The man in the dark cloak bought them, and I was thrown in for makeweight." She levered herself into a crouch, bracing herself against the bars, thin fingers wrapped against the iron. Fiyero reached out again, tracing around the numbers branded livid and raw against her forearm.

The door banged dramatically open, Faethor striding in arrogantly, surveying the rows of caged children with an almost indulgent shade of disgust. A few more strides and he found himself between the caged witchers, careful to keep to the center of the wide aisle and out of reach of either one. "I find myself in need of another test subject, gentlemen. Merely blood samples this time, nothing so very invasive, hmm? Any volunteers?"

Phin spat at him, the thick gob of saliva splattering across the top of the mage's basilisk skin boot. "Go to hell, you fucking bastard," he swore in a voice hoarsened into a barking rasp.

"Now, now, no need to be crude. Remind me again why I shouldn't dissect you for more comparison data? After all, I only really need to keep one of you alive for ongoing studies."

"You promised. You swore you wouldn't kill him, as long as…" Fiyero dragged himself painfully up to a standing position against the bars.

"A bare minimum of cooperation is all I ask, son of my mother. For that little consideration, I allow both you and your mutant companion continued room and board in my humble establishment, without vivisecting either of you. I hardly think a touch of courtesy is unreasonable." The blond mage smiled darkly at the pale blond witcher he had once called brother. "Blood samples, today, from one of you in the lower laboratory, without undue fuss. And in return, I'll make sure the staff doesn't 'forget' to feed you today, no matter how much easier it makes dealing with you."

"I'll do it." Fiyero ground out, not looking at either of the others.

"Fye, you haven't recovered from the last set of 'tests' he put you through. I can manage…" Phin spat, still leaning wearily against the bars.

"You haven't eaten in a week, Delphinium. I'll survive this." Fiyero extended his wrists through the slot in door, allowing himself to be bound for the trip upstairs, knowing his injuries were too extensive to fight the guards successfully today anyway.

"Excellent, if you've decided then?" Faethor swept off towards the stairs without waiting for a response.

Fye allowed himself to be dragged off down the hall, staging one careful stumble against Phin's cell door, allowing the other witcher a quick brush of fingers along his cheek. "Be careful, Fye."

"Aren't I always?" he whispered in a dull tone as he was pulled away.

The torches had burned out and been replaced in steady progression by the time a pale and trembling Fiyero was returned to his cell and bowls of the murky gruel that passed for food were shoved through the slots in the bars. He looked drained, barely able to lift the bowl to his lips, giving up after a few meager sips. At the far end of the corridor, the first few boys were being unceremoniously dragged out of their cells and toward the door to the laboratories.

"I told you I could have managed. Damn it, Fye, how many samples did he take?" Phin snapped, ignoring his own bowl in favor of staring across the corridor with worry.

Fye blinked, shaking his head slightly before attempting another sip of food. "As much as he could without outright killing me, I suspect. He had those studies he drew from the others he dissected out, kept pondering over them as he bottled my blood."

Phin cursed softly, before finally gulping at his own meal with a slight grimace of distaste. "I'll never get used to how this slop tastes. Are you going to be okay?"

"Think so. He dosed me with a few vials of Swallow, before he started bleeding me. Not sure if it was to keep me alive or just something he wanted for his experiment, though."

"I'd put money on experimental purposes, Fye, given the lack of interest he's shown in your welfare so far."

Fye snorted softly, taking another small sip out of his bowl. "By his standards, he's handling us with kid gloves, Phin. I haven't entirely forgotten how he treated me before I was given to Kaer Morhen and the mages took him."

"Of all the renegade mages on the continent, we ended up in your brother's dungeon. Ten years since we figured that out, and I still can't believe it."

"I can. I walked into a trap set specifically for me, and you got over emotional and came after me. Thus leading to us spending 10 years in the hands of a sadist whose childhood idea of fun was dropping fire ants down my pants. I should have seen his involvement coming long before he showed up to gloat." He slowly finished most of his bowl, then deliberately set it down and pushed it over to the side of his cell. The large grey eyes that had been wistfully watching him eat widened at the gesture. A moment later, a small hand reached tentatively between the bars toward the food, before flinching back as the eyes narrowed suspiciously, fixed on him. "I'm not going to bite, little magpie. Go on. Eat something before you waste away to nothing."

She warily eyed him a moment more before snatching at the bowl, wolfing frantically at the dregs of watery gruel. When she had licked the last of it clean with the fervor of the starving, she reluctantly set the bowl down before darting back to her own pile of straw, where she could watch the strange food sharing adult from safely out of reach. He didn't move from his half reclined position against the wall, and she let herself succumb to sleep, more content than she could ever remember being.

"You're as likely to waste away to nothing as she is, Fye," Phin remonstrated quietly from across the corridor, shaking his head. "Why you'd go and waste food like that, as rarely as it's handed out, I'll never understand."

"Oh, I don't know. Why did you go off and come looking for me, when it would have been more practical to cut your losses and go home for the winter?" was the quiet reply. Fye half smiled at the disconcerted look on the other witcher's face, glancing over to check on the sleeping elf. "Altruism isn't always a bad thing, Phin. Sometimes, I need to prove to myself I'm more human than monster."

"You think entirely too much, Fye. You're starting to sound like Geralt." Phin finished off the last of his own gruel before retreating to his bed.

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"My point exactly."