A/N: disturbing themes
With a moan of pain Nero tried to rouse himself from the headache that was making him feel particularly delirious. He didn't realize that he was shackled until he tried to grab his throbbing head with his hands and heard the clink of chains above his head instead.
Panic seized him and he forced his eyes open only to look up and see that his wrists were encircled in iron cuffs. They were attached to a thick chain hanging from the ceiling. He choked back a scream of terror, but he could not stop himself from trying to pull his hands free. The clinking from his efforts, however, only served to alert his captors that he was awake. Nero only barely realized that he was tearing the skin off of his wrists when he was slapped across the face, hard.
"Stop struggling, you're wasting your time."
Nero fought to suppress the panic overpowering him just as much as he had struggled to free himself from his chains moments before. He forced himself to assess the situation in hopes that it would somehow stop his mind from remembering all the other times he had been chained like this and the horror that the position usually entailed.
He remembered being torn from Fenris, and had a vague recollection of being taken from the ally before he had been knocked out. After that he had clearly been brought to this place, wherever it was. He was in a fairly small, windowless room, with a doorway leading to another room that looked only marginally bigger. He could see a table with numerous chairs around it and a few men playing cards, but other than that it did not appear the other room had anything else worth noting.
Nero was on his knees, which were being pressed uncomfortably by his weight into the grate that seemed to be covering a drain and if he didn't know better he would say he was being kept in a bathing room of some sort. But he had seen similar drains before and, after seeing the dried blood at the corners of the grate and the bloodstains on the floor, he was certain that if this had ever been a bathroom it sure as the void wasn't one now.
He was chained in the very center of the room, so that he could be attacked on all sides if need be, he was sure. It was very dark, the only light coming from the candles sitting on the table behind him and the small fireplace in the next room. There was definitely no light coming from the small wood stove in the corner in front of him, for which he was mildly grateful. Despite the fact that he appeared to be shirtless he was still fairly warm, although now that he thought of it, if he was sweating he would maybe have an easier time of trying to get his hands through the cuffs.
He twisted his position as quietly as he could, the man that had slapped him was now standing in the doorway and he was sure he would be hit again, or worse, if he made any sort of noise. As it was, he managed to turn his head so that he could get a glance at the corner of the table, and what he saw there brought the panic bubbling over.
Esperance had had a similar whip, although she didn't' use it as often as she made use of her demons and magics. It was made of numerous leather strips attached to a foot-long handle, from experience he knew that that in itself could cause a lot of pain. However, there were multiple jagged metal shards stitched to each leather strip, metal shards that were sharp and hooked and would serve to rip chunks of flesh from anybody unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end of it's use.
Any thoughts other than 'escape!' eluded him and with a yell he renewed his attempts to pull his hands free of the cuffs. With renewed desperation he called for whatever aid he could get from the essence around him.
In the other room the men playing cards looked up at the noise. A couple of men barely had time to stand before there were thick roots breaking the cemented floor and shooting up to the ceiling, forcing themselves through everything in their way. Chunks of concrete and shards of wood went flying, chairs where destroyed and the table was thrown to it's side. One of Nero's captors was impaled, a root puncturing his abdomen, and many others were pushed aside.
Water began to trickle up from the new cracks in the floor, droplets rose in the air and froze before shooting through the room, superficially wounding the men and blinding one of them.
"He's a fucking mage!" the man who had slapped him yelled.
But Nero did not hear it over his own screaming and the rush of energy flying throughout the room. One of the branches had upset the stove in front of him and when he subconsciously realized that the logs had not completely burned to cinders and that the ends of them were still glowing his power surged forth and stoked the fire. When the flame was sufficient it curled throughout the room and led into the next, where it set one man's entire body aflame and burnt another ones face.
Nero's hands were now stuck inside of the cuffs, although they were almost free. Blood was trickling down his arms and with a final tug he yanked them out, barely aware of the skin coming off with the motion. As he began to raise himself from his knees, however, somebody managed to get behind him.
Nero's vision went stark white then quickly faded into black as he was hit on the back of the head with a broken chair. As he fell the havoc around him ceased. His escape attempt had failed.
...
He wasn't sure if he was conscious or if he was still dreaming. His head was fuzzy and he couldn't focus his mind nor his sight on anything. He couldn't tell if his back and arms really were burning or if he was imagining things.
The first time had woken up he had been at the mercy of Esperance, fortunately she was in the mood to tear him apart emotionally rather than physically. She reminded him of his failure to protect Arsenio, the disappointment he had proven to be to both her, the Archon and his first client. The disappointment he was now, having allowed himself to be caught. She had scraped her nails along his cheek and forced him to kiss her, then set an electricity spell on him when he refused to do so.
The second time he had awoken it was to his own screams. The whip was being used on him, one moment by Esperance, one moment by Arsenio, the next moment by a man whose face he did not recognize. He watched the blood splatter onto the walls and the person whipping him as if he was not the one enduring it. He couldn't really feel the wounds being inflicted upon him, as though the pain was so intense that his brain couldn't possibly interpret it.
The third time broth-soaked bread was being shoved in his mouth and somebody was rubbing something onto his back. At first he thought maybe it was to dull the ache as initially it was a cool sensation. And then it burned and stung and he cried out once more before darkness enveloped him.
There were numerous other times he remembered similar things happening after that. He faintly wondered how long this had been going on, had it been hours? Days? Weeks? Did it matter? He was having a hard time remembering if escaping and living in Kirkwall was a dream, or if it had actually happened. Maybe it was a fantasy he had made for himself. He struggled to focus on it, to remember, but he could not and soon his attention was wandering, vaguely he listened to the conversation taking place from behind him. Or inside him, or maybe he was partaking in it. He didn't know anymore.
"I cannot describe how pleased i am to finally see this, this...knife-ear paying for his nerve. Who does he think he is, living in Hightown? They should all just be exterminated." a young male voice was saying.
"Yes, ser." another voice agreed without any conviction.
Footsteps made their way from behind him to in front of him, a hand grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head up from where Nero had been resting it against his he opened his eyes he could barely make out the blurred face.
"Hmm," the face said, "I've had an interesting thought. He always seemed so proud of himself, when he walked about, as though he thinks being a kinfe-ear is something less than atrocious." the voice chuckled, twisted promises hidden in the sound, "how fitting would it be to take a knife to his ears?" The hand holding his hair let go and the man in front of him stood and walked to the doorway, "take away his badge of honor. Give him ears a human would be proud of."
"As you say, messere."
...
His ears were throbbing where the tips had been cut off, and now they were so swollen that he was having a hard time hearing. He wondered sometimes how he was still alive, it seemed to him that he had been losing a lot of blood. Was Esperance healing him? Why did everything still burn if that was the case? If he moved too much he felt scabs all over his body crack and start bleeding again, so evidently he still had wounds. Nero would have shaken his head at the confusion but he had neither the strength nor the will to do so, instead he let his mind wander freely, no longer caring to try to focus it.
"Perhaps if he is a mage we should send for Otto Alrik? That would provide a more permanent solution to your problem without outright murder wouldn't it, Eugene?"
"Hmm, you bring up a good point. Yes, do that. It wouldn't be a bad thing to start friendly relations between my family and the Templars. Emile has brought so much shame upon us, I do not know why my parents continue to fret about him. Would you be so kind as to lend me some clothing? I think i would like to make use of this very interesting whip you have here."
"Of course, messere."
Nero felt water dripping down his face and didn't realize for several moments that he was crying. He would have preferred if they had intended to kill him.
...
Out of the corner of his eye he could see silver reflecting candlelight at him and he wondered if he would have winced if he could be bothered. He also wondered what he would see if he, by chance, caught a reflection of himself in the armor belonging to the Templar. Then he decided he was probably better off not knowing.
"How long has it been here?" the armor asked.
"About three weeks now, Ser Alrik." The voice that was Eugene's replied.
"You said you were using magebane? For this length of time that must be getting tremendously expensive."
Eugene chuckled, "it is no problem, i assure you. I am rather surprised at how delirious it seems to be making him."
"Ah yes, continued usage will do that. I've always found it quite entertaining."
"That it is."
"Yes, well. I will have the tranquility brand sent here. Then you wont have to keep using the magebane. Of course, you will let me play with him afterwords, yes?"
"Of course, ser."
