Chapter 2
Amelie lay on the cold, wet floor of the General's cabin, staring blankly at the ceiling above her.
Her body was entirely numb, but her throat was sore from screaming, and her cheeks wasted with tears.
She couldn't think. She couldn't move. She couldn't breath. All she could do was lay there, disregarded like an old toy –broken.
Fresh tears, the only warmth Amelie felt, caressed her cheeks. It was so quiet she could hear them hit the wooden floor.
As Amelie regained full consciousness, she became more aware of her surroundings- the cackles of men's laughter above deck, the constant creaking of the ship, the distant break of waves upon the proud English ships prow.
Amelie sat up, groggy and sore. She tried to push the memory of the General's possessive body out of her mind, but it was hard to ignore the bloodstains on her petticoats.
Feeling sick, Amelie stumbled to the door of the cell, shaky hands fumbling with the door.
It was locked.
Fresh tears of frustration poured from Amelie's eyes, and she kicked the door. Of the course the General locked her in. She'd just jump off and try to swim to land if she got above deck.
Her back to the door, Amelie slid to he ground, tears spent. Suddenly, from outside, Amelie heard the voices of two men. They were loud and obnoxious –they were obviously drunk, celebrating their return to their homeland.
"Are ya sure its this room?" one man slurred, leaning heavily against the General's door.
"Yah," the other replied, voice thick with alcohol. "This's the one…"
Amelie, curious now, listened with amusement as they fumbled with the door. 'You won't get in that way…' Amelie thought.
"It's locked." The second one mumbled after a minute of repeated failures to open the door. 'Thank you Captain Obvious.' Amelie though, rolling her eyes.
"Drat…Well, it figures he'd keep her locked up for himself."
"Yeah," the other man replied, audibly scratching a ragged beard. "Though I heard he was just gonna drop her off as soon as we got to England…"
"Huh. Probably sell her as a whore or something. You'd think he had enough money already, being royalty and all…"
Royalty? The General was Royalty? Somehow Amelie couldn't imagine him holding anything but a sword, much less a scepter or a wine glass.
"Well, no use hanging around here. Looks like we can't have a little fun with her tonight."
Suddenly, Amelie was glad the door was locked. 'Wait…' Amelie thought. 'It's already night?'
Amelie paled when she realized it was. Through the small port window, she could see the sky dimming at a rapid pace. 'That means the General will be back soon!' Amelie panicked, heartbeat quickening.
Panicked at the thought of another night with him, Amelie scrambled from the door, desperate for escape. There was a small port window above a cluttered desk. She stood atop it, unbalanced for a second. Looking for something to smash the glass with, Amelie grabbed a weighted ink well. Ignoring the sticky black ink on her fingers, she flung it at the window, dousing herself with the rest of the liquid in the process.
'I look like a mess anyway,' Amelie sniffed.
Hiking up her skirts, Amelie poked her head out the window to see if anyone had noticed.
Boisterous laughter resounded from the hall further down the hull of the ship. The men were feasting in victory – and there was no need for a lookout behind the boat to watch for enemies so close to the mainland. Amelie hoisted herself into the windowsill, carful to avoid the fragments of glass that remained.
She slipped out the window, wincing slightly when her knees and shoulders scrapped across the invisible knives.
Dropping to the deck, Amelie scanned for any land. It was getting darker by the minute, but she could still make out a lumpy blob against the glistening horizon. She could swim that far.
Amelie sprinted across the deck, tasting freedom.
Launching herself over the edge, Amelie flailed in the air, attempting to right herself.
Amelie slammed into the water, a coffin suffocating her.
It was freezing, and deep – Amelie didn't know which way was up. Suddenly, adrenaline kicked in, spurring Amelie upwards, towards light and life.
Breaking the surface, Amelie coughed and sputtered, suffocating in her own clothes.
Shaking the water out of her congested ears, Amelie was alarmed to hear men shouting behind her.
Amelie quickly stripped her skirt and bodice, undoing the ties with nimble fingers.
Stroking strongly now, Amelie paddled away, breathing deeply between each stroke; she hadn't swum for years.
The men were shouting louder now, obviously panicked that their prize was getting away. It sounded like they were debating on who could swim or not.
'Wow.' Amelie thought. 'They're skilled sails men, but they don't know how to swim? That's sad'
Smirking slightly at the comedy of it, Amelie paddled harder, adrenaline running thick and strong through her blood. Slowly but surely, Amelie began to feel the current of the ship behind her. 'Damn' Amelie thought. 'Why are they bothering to go after me?!'
Soon enough, an atomic splash startled Amelie from behind. Strong arms encircled her waist, and bound her arms with heavy rope.
Amelie struggled to free herself, knowing she'd be unable to escape –let alone swim – tied in rope. But the arms remained tight, stonewalls, imprisoning her.
Amelie spat salt water, and whipped her hair, hoping to at least distract her offender. They were pulled aboard by rope, both sopping wet and smelling of the sea.
Amelie was dumped ungracefully on the deck, knees collapsing beneath her.
Amelie coughed up the remaining seawater in her lungs, feeling truly like a drenched rat.
A polished boot's measure tapping brought Amelie's gray eyes to the General's green. He was scowling, a dirty look that aged him. Amelie stared at him impassively, keenly aware that her formerly white petticoat was now ink stained, bloody, soaking wet, and see-through.
Not that it mattered; he'd already seen her naked before. But it was still unnerving being practically nude in front of 20 ogling men.
Blushing slightly, Amelie crossed her arms over her chest; trying to scrap together what little modesty she had left.
The General stepped forward, twirling his sword expertly, jade eyes glowing, calculating.
'What's he going to do?' Amelie wondered. Honestly, she was so beyond caring what happened to her. She'd already accepted her death. So long as he didn't attack her in bed again…
Amelie involuntarily began to tremble. Furious that her body was showing weakness, she bit her lip. It started bleeding, and the nectar cleared her thoughts. Calming herself, Amelie resolved to never be taken advantage by a man like that again.
Boldly looking up, Amelie challenged her predator, questioning with her eyes. Amelie stared at the man: he who had murdered her family; he who had stolen her from her homeland; he who had violated her, and tossed her aside like garbage. He who was looking down at her now, smirking. 'What will he do next?' Amelie pondered.
He was crouching next to her now, eagerly leaning into her personal space. His eyes flit between hers, two unsuitable gems of greed. Amelie's jaw hardened. 'I will not submit to you.' Amelie snarled in her mind.
"What am I going to do with you?" the General breathed. A ghost of a smile crossed his lips before they slammed into Amelie's mouth. Rough against her, he tried to force himself into her mouth. But she refused.
Frustrated, he tried again, but in vain. Thoroughly flustered, he pulled back, more surprised than anything. Looking around, he seemed to remember he had an audience.
"Get back to the hall!" he ordered. To Amelie he hissed "You're coming with me."
Arms still bound, Amelie had no choice but to follow him back to his quarters.
'Please no, please no, please no…' Amelie pleaded in her mind. 'Anything but there!'
The General all but dragged her across the deck, and locked the door behind them.
Once inside, Amelie hastily turned around, eyes wide. This was his territory now.
"That was very stupid of you." The General growled. "You do not want me to get mad. You almost made me look bad in front of my men. You are getting very close the edge of my patience."
"It's not my fault that you forced yourself on me." Amelie stated calmly.
"Do NOT test my patience!" The General snarled. "You are lucky you're even alive right now! If you cause any more problems for me, I seriously doubt you'll make it to land, girl."
And with that, he stormed out of the room, locking the door again behind him.
'Why did I do that?' Amelie scolded herself, tears falling again. 'Am I even trying to survive?' Amelie questioned herself. 'Not really' she concluded.
Locked up, and alone, Amelie curled up on the ground, sobbing. 'I don't want to live…' Amelie thought. 'But I don't want to die either…where does that leave me now?'
Author's Note: Sorry. I'm so sorry. This chapter was not happy either. *sob* I didn't mean to make the General (Arthur, no duh) so cruel, but...I kinda needed Amelie to hate him for a while, so...
You see my point?
Yeah, please review!