Anguish and Torment
(A/N: Anguish and Torment of two varieties. Physical and Mental. Physical for the brothers, mental for Aaron.)
Hans struggled frantically against the men pulling him towards what could only be described as a stone and iron oven in the ground. Rhun was frantically struggling himself. Perhaps more so than Hans, but for a different reason. That reason being because he was about ready to throw away this charade if it meant saving his brother from that godforsaken pit. To do so, though, to offer himself, might only make certain Hans was put in there. But if he didn't act, Hans went in anyway as a test! Wasn't it better to try to help him? No, it wasn't. Then the next time Hans would be targeted again in order to get to him. Seeing his baby brother suffer like this a second time would be a far worse punishment than anything they could do to him otherwise. For his sibling's sake, he had to remain quiet… But god, to stay quiet for this… A moment of panic went through him. They would bake his sibling if they put him in there! The sun was merciless in the day. Hans wouldn't survive five hours!
"Are you out of your minds?! This is an execution, not torture!" Hans protested frantically.
"Is it? Hmm? I suppose we'll see," the Duke answered.
"Why are you doing this?! Why?!" Hans demanded. The Duke paused momentarily, a flash of confusion going through his eyes before he continued walking again without answering. Hans cried out as they threw him into the pit in the ground and shut it, locking it tight. At least he was outside, Hans dryly said to himself. "Don't do this, please!" Hans begged. "You can't! My Lord Duke, I beg you!"
Rhun could only gape in horror and savagely, repetitively, bite his tongue and check himself to be sure he didn't do anything that gave them away. He gasped as they bound him to a tree tightly by chains. They chained his hands upwards too, so he wouldn't find a way to escape. He tried to pull away, but it was a useless endeavor. Quickly and efficiently he was gagged. "Hear your brother scream… Until he doesn't," the torturer said to the older prince before turning and walking away, following the Duke. Rhun looked after them in terror. The Duke, he noted, didn't move normally. He moved like… like it wasn't him in that body… Or like he was a mechanical automaton. Rhun sharply looked back towards the pit, eyes wide.
Conceal don't feel, don't give yourself away. Don't give yourself away… Oh god, Hans! No, no, don't give it away. It'll only be worse for him then.
With a subtle shiver, he closed his eyes tightly and willed away the sounds of Hans pleading for the Duke to let him out.
Stop, Hans. Stop. You're only making it worse. For both of us. And so much harder. Please stop.
Hans did, finally, stop, and Rhun let out a shaky breath. Now, though, he wondered why. Please let his sibling be okay. Please…
Frozen
"Why are you doing this, father?!" the Duke of Cumberland's son demanded.
"It is not your place to question me, whelp!" the man shot sharply.
"I don't understand! Papa, he spared my life! Please let him go. That man does not deserve your cruelty. Neither him nor his brother!" the boy protested.
"Get out of my way," the Duke said, shoving passed his child.
"No!" Aaron protested, moving in front of his father again. "Listen to me, please! Don't do this! Let him go. For my sake!" He yelped as his father struck him viciously. Shocked, he looked up at the man in hurt.
"You stupid, ungrateful little waif! I have done everything for your sake!" the Duke roared. "They will endure whatever I wish them to endure! You will not turn my heart." The Duke turned, storming towards the 'mirror room', as everyone called it. When he entered, Aaron knew he wouldn't see his father for possibly days.
"Dad!" Aaron called after him. The man didn't turn. "Dad, what is my name?!"
The Duke froze in place, looking up but not turning. There was dead silence for a long moment. "Burdensome Waste," the man finally answered, and the child felt as though he'd been stabbed through the heart. The man entered the room, and the boy sobbed, closing his eyes tightly.
Frozen
Hans lay in the pit, huddled close on himself. The sun beat down so harshly. He felt like dying. He wished he would. It was so hard to even open his eyes anymore. The heat was so intense… How was he not blistering and burning yet? He should be. The iron was so hot, and the stone… It was like he was in an oven, baking alive. How much longer before he succumbed? He whimpered, closing his eyes again. He was going to be so horribly sunburned after this, he noted to himself slightly humorously. Humorously because sun burning was the least of his worries in this godforsaken pit. Cooking alive was a bigger concern, but he didn't even want to think about that. He would be so beyond out of it when finally they dragged him out.
He heard a hiss and opened his eyes. He frowned. Water? The floor was apparently hot enough for the water to evaporate almost instantly and hiss. Wait… Where would water even come from? He felt it splashing down on him suddenly and jumped slightly, looking quickly up. His eyes widened in shock. The Duke's son was there, pouring water down from above and onto him! He blinked up at the boy then closed his eyes tightly, relishing in the cooling feel. He wanted to ask why the child was here, but he just didn't have the energy. He wanted to enjoy every second of this water. It stopped and he felt dejected, but soon the kid was back, pouring more down onto him. Hans opened his eyes, looking suspiciously at the boy. The teenager—was he a teenager?—finished pouring the water, left, then returned once more. This time he lowered something down. Hans squinted then started. Water. The teen was giving him water. He gasped and dove for it with all the strength he could muster. Which was very little. He used it to cool his lips and mouth first before daring to drink it, lest it shock his body. The boy then brought out a blanket, spreading it over the pit and leaving Hans in blessed shade. Hans could have cheered, except when he tried his voice didn't come. Well, something that could pass as a sound came out, but it was parched and hoarse and basically silent. He cursed it. Cursed the fact he couldn't praise the boy and thank him. Why, though, was the child doing this? He frowned again suspiciously. What did he gain?
Meanwhile, Rhun was looking at the Duke's son in shock, eyes wide but filled with gratefulness. The young one looked over at him curiously. Rhun bowed his head to him and turned away. He wouldn't expect the same kindness from the child. He had been the one advocating for the teen's death in battle, after all. And punishing Hans for sparing his life. That boy owed him no kindness, so he wouldn't ask for one or give any indication he wanted one. The teenager approached cautiously, warily eying Rhun. "Are you thirsty?" he asked.
Rhun looked up at him incredulously, still gagged. The boy blushed nervously, realizing Rhun couldn't very well answer when gagged. But if father saw him even anywhere near these two… But they were hurt and he wanted to help them! He didn't like seeing them like this. He took a deep breath and ungagged the prince. Rhun shook his head and grimaced, glad the cloth was out of his mouth. The boy opened his mouth to speak again, but Rhun cut him off. "Is my brother alive? Is he alright?" he immediately demanded in a whisper, lest anyone else be nearby and spying on them for any signs of concern. For all he knew this boy was his father's lookout, but he couldn't refrain from asking anymore. He had to know!
The boy blinked. "I thought you two hated each other," he said.
"We did… Once… Not even long ago," Rhun replied. "Just answer, kid."
"He's… not okay, but he's alive. And he has water now," the boy replied. "Do you need water too?"
"Give whatever you have to my brother," Rhun replied. The boy looked surprised. "I suppose I shouldn't be offended that you're so shocked I have a heart, given the incident on the battlefield," he said with a sigh.
The boy was quiet. "You need to drink," he soon said in response.
"Hans needs it more," Rhun replied sharply.
"There's no shortage of water here," the boy said. "You aren't in a cell anymore and confined to one glass every three days. As long as my father doesn't know I'm doing this, I can smuggle you as much as you want."
Rhun blinked rapidly, taking this in. They'd become so used to portions, that the idea of water not being limited had become foreign to them. "Fine," he soon relented. "How long have we been here? Prisoners in Cumberland?"
The boy shifted. Four months, going on five," he answered.
"What is your name, child?" Rhun asked.
"I'm not a child!" the boy protested. Rhun gave him a stern look. The boy sighed in annoyance, but relented. Okay, so he was. "My name is Aaron."
Rhun nodded. "Why are you offering to help us?" he asked this Aaron.
"Because your brother spared my life," Aaron answered.
"I showed you no such kindness," Rhun deadpanned. "And as far as you knew, we hated each other, so you certainly didn't offer me help for his sake."
"Kindness can go a long way," the boy replied.
"I don't suppose you learned that from your father," Rhun dryly said. Aaron was quiet. He bowed his head low, closing his eyes. Rhun cringed. "I'm sorry," he said.
"My father used to be good…" Aaron quietly said. "Then just… Something changed… He stopped being my father like I knew him and he became… I don't know…"
"You learned from your father to be kind?" Rhun said, wonder not well hidden in his voice.
"Yes sir," Aaron answered. "And merciful, and good, and to hate violence and war, and to be fair, and many things like that."
Rhun was silent, thinking this over. That was so strange… He didn't trust it. Was it possible this man was another shadow, like the one Franz and Hans had spoken of, and that the true Duke of Cumberland was dead? But it didn't seem to add up, or feel right. Surely that wasn't it. It just… wasn't. He wasn't sure how he was so certain of that, but he was. That man wasn't a shadow. That man was flesh and blood… So what brought on the change, then? The prince looked at the boy. "Thank you," he said to him. "For all you're doing… If you choose to keep helping us, be careful. Please. We don't need the blood of a boy at his own father's hands on our consciences." Aaron nodded and hurried off to bring more water.
Frozen
Hans was sitting against the now cool walls of the pit. The blanket was pulled away from the hole and he winced, closing his eyes. After a moment he opened them, looking up. The boy was there again. He had heard him talking to Rhun. Aaron was his name. Hans watched him silently. "Father is coming in two more hours to let you out," Aaron said to him. "The torturer wanted you here for days, but father refused because you spared me so he owes you a leniency." Hans was quiet. Aaron looked down, supposing that the prince wouldn't speak. Or couldn't. "I have to leave you without shade, now, or father will know what I did. He might know even now and I'll be punished, but not as badly hopefully. Here. I brought you more water." He lowered it down. Hans looked at it then sighed, taking it and drinking deeply. He let it go and Aaron pulled it back up. "I'm sorry… That he's done this to you," Aaron said. Still no answer. Aaron shifted then rose to leave.
"Don't apologize for your father's wrongs," Hans suddenly said. Aaron looked down at him. "It won't help either you or him in the long run."
"Someone has to," Aaron replied.
"Then he'll apologize before I cut off his head," Hans deadpanned.
"Please don't," Aaron said.
"There are men not worth pleading for," Hans said. "I'm one of them. Or was. Your father is one too."
"I will fight to protect my father," Aaron said.
"Then you'll die with him," Hans replied.
Aaron was quiet. "I don't believe you," he finally said.
"Your mistake," Hans replied. "How old are you, boy?"
"Thirteen," Aaron replied proudly. "I just turned thirteen today."
"What the hell was a twelve year old doing fighting on a battlefield?!" Hans sharply demanded, frowning at this. If he'd just turned thirteen today, then he'd been twelve when he'd faced the kid.
Aaron shifted. "Father didn't know," he sheepishly replied. "I was good enough!"
"You're a child!" Hans shot.
"My father's the only thing I have left!" Aaron insisted. "Don't you see? I had to!"
"You'd be better off without him," Hans said.
"What would you know?!" Aaron demanded.
"Our father was as much a monster as yours is, if not more!" Hans sharply snapped. "And believe me that's saying something. The hell right do you have to be so good and merciful when you're being raised by that psycho?!"
"Hans, enough!" Rhun sharply shouted from his position by the tree.
Aaron looked over towards Rhun, then back at Hans. "What's wrong with you?" he demanded of Hans.
Hans scowled at him then sighed, leaning back. "Sorry, just… Too much has been happening…" he answered in a murmur. "I'm afraid I'm not quite myself." Or he was… Or he was slipping back into the damn mask he'd been wearing most of his life. Shut off, hate, conspire, betray. No one's worth the trouble. People are horrible and the only way you survive in the world is to out-horrible the horrible.
Aaron was quiet. "I'm sorry… About your relationship with your father," he said.
"There was no relationship," Hans deadpanned.
"But I had one with mine… He used to love me," Aaron said. Hans was quiet. He'd heard that part of the conversation too. He was no less weirded out by it now than he was then. What on earth had happened to the Duke of Cumberland to make him into psycho daddy?
"Go home, boy," Hans soon replied. "You've done what you could. Thank you. We'll be sure your father never knows. I can act, if nothing else." Aaron nodded and moved away. He put the gag back on Rhun then quickly scrambled off, Rhun looking curiously after him. Hans used to be like that… Well, more bitter, but close enough. Then things got worse. He hoped his brother's fate didn't befall this boy. The kid was sweet. It would be such a pity.
Frozen
Aaron sat in his room working on a little project. It was a model ship. Father had taught him how to carve when he'd been small. They'd always whittled together. Sometimes they would make little soldiers and other objects like that, then play games together with them… Then father didn't come anymore… Aaron paused, looking at the ship. It was one of his best carvings to date. He had always had a talent for whittling, father had said. He had told him he could be a great carver one day. He'd said that even if they'd been poor, they could have made a living off of selling the little figurines Aaron came up with... Those had been good days… He felt tears burning his eyes and furiously brushed them away, sniffing. He put the ship down. He'd need to get more materials to finish it up.
"My lord?" a voice called from outside of the door gently. A servant.
"Yes?" Aaron called back.
"Your meal is served," the servant replied.
"I'm coming," Aaron said, going to the door and opening it up. He looked up at the servant. "Thank you for coming to get me," he said to her. She smiled affectionately at him, ruffling his hair gently.
Aaron hurried passed and went into the dining room. Maybe father would be there this time? He hoped so, but he'd long ago stopped expecting that hope to come true. When it did, though, it was always the highlight of the day. Which was sad given father never talked to him. When he did it was always impersonal and cold and sometimes biting or hurtful. At least he was there, though. It was something. He always dreamed that one day he would go down to eat and father would be there. He'd be smiling and gentle and like he used to be, and everything would go back to normal. Everything would be okay again. He'd apologize for all the times he'd hurt his son, he'd apologize for becoming a stranger. He'd beg forgiveness and promise with all his heart that he would always be there for him from that day on. But it never happened… One day, though, right? He-he couldn't be the stranger forever, right…? Dad would come back. He had to. He wanted his father back!
He entered the dining room, daring to hope. His hope, again, was shattered. There was no parent sitting there. He would have even been happy to see his father there and looking angry or impersonal. The man's presence was all he asked for. Was that really too much? "Where is my father?" he questioned quietly.
The servants were silent. They'd run out of excuses to give years ago. At the end of the day, the man just wasn't there. Not for any reason, just because he chose not to be. Or forgot to be. "I'm sorry, young master. Your father can't make it," the butler finally replied. Aaron looked down sadly. They'd also stopped saying 'he sends his regrets', he noted. They had long ago. Even when they'd been saying it, it had been lies. Father had never said any such thing. In the beginning he had, then somewhere along the lines he'd stopped. Aaron wondered, briefly, how long it would be before the servants stopped saying 'can't make it' and started saying 'won't come', or just saying 'he isn't here'.
"Alright," Aaron said quietly. He went to his seat and sat, picking listlessly at the food. He wasn't hungry. He never was anymore, it seemed. He just didn't have the energy or motivation to eat. He just did because he knew he had to in order to stay healthy and, well, alive. That went without saying. He sighed deeply.
Frozen
Suddenly the door to the dining room opened. Aaron looked quickly up and his eyes widened in hopeful disbelief. His father was there, looking in at him. Expressionless, perhaps cold, but the man was there! "Papa!" Aaron exclaimed, leaping up. He wanted to run into the man's arms and hug him so tightly his father would hardly be able to breathe. Last time he'd tried to, though, he'd been shoved away like a disease. Onto the ground, in fact. For a dreadful moment he'd been afraid the man would hit him, but the Duke had seemed to get a hold of his outrage and had lowered his staff again. The time before that, the Duke had allowed it—he'd been in a relatively good humor that day, given he'd just won a victory—but hadn't returned the embrace in the slightest. Just had seemed perturbed.
"My Lord Duke!" the butler exclaimed.
"Sir!" the servant said with a gasp.
The Duke eyed them both icily. "Leave," he ordered. He turned to Aaron. "I need to speak with my spawn alone." Aaron tensed up. Uh oh… That was never good. He felt his heart sink. At least, though, the man was there. Nervously the butler and servant left. Aaron sat back down. The Duke watched him a long moment. Aaron shifted uneasily. Soon the Duke approached the table and sat by his plate. He began to eat wordlessly. Aaron took it as a cue that he was invited to eat too. His appetite was back now, at least. He ate contentedly.
"You were seen near the pit," the Duke suddenly remarked.
Aaron froze, fork halfway to his mouth. After a moment he lowered it and looked up at his father, fear in his eyes. "I wasn't," he replied.
"Don't you dare lie to me," the Duke icily stated.
Aaron hunched in on himself, looking down and swallowing. Appetite was gone again. "I-I was just curious," he said weakly, voice breaking slightly. "I wanted-wanted to see who they were. I didn't do anything!"
"Indeed," the Duke remarked. "You know, the youngest prince wasn't supposed to be pulled out of that hole conscious. I ensured that if he wasn't dead when we dragged his body out of that godforsaken oven, then at least he would be knocked out a good long while."
"He's stronger than he seems," Aaron replied.
"No man is that strong. Would you like me to prove that to you?" the Duke said as the door opened. Aaron turned curiously and paled. The torturer! He'd never liked that man. Not the look of him or smell of him or sound of him. He was terrifying and gave him very bad feelings. If that man was here… The boy shivered and turned quickly, fearfully, back to his parent, confusion and hurt and betrayal in his eyes. "Perhaps you want a turn in the pit?" The boy's eyes bugged wide. He wasn't serious, he told himself. He couldn't be! "I didn't think so. Now, what did you do?"
"Nothing," Aaron insisted.
"I said don't lie to me!" the Duke roared, shooting up viciously and making his child cower back, eyes wide in terror. It was best, in this instance, to say nothing at all. "Answer me, waif!"
"I'm not a waif! I'm your son!" Aaron screamed in reply, anger flashing into his eyes.
"You're the waste of space and air that your mother died for!" the Duke viciously said.
Aaron looked visibly pained by this. His mouth quivered and he closed his eyes tightly, sniffing. He couldn't stop the tears from coming this time. Mother had died of her illness because the medicine that would have saved her would have hurt the child she was carrying. She didn't want to lose him, so she'd refused it… So she'd died… "I'm sorry," he said brokenly.
"What does her death matter to me? She was nothing more than a prize anyway," the Duke replied.
Aaron was silent. No she wasn't… He'd seen his father's room… The woman had meant everything to him. He'd always spoken lovingly of her and rued the fact he couldn't give her all that she deserved and couldn't save her. Once Aaron had asked his father if he would have preferred that mother was alive rather than him. Father had told him he would do anything to get mother back. Anything except give up his son. He chose his son… He wouldn't choose his son anymore…
"What did you do?" the Duke darkly asked.
Aaron looked up at the man. "Kindness, mercy, forgiveness, pity, honesty, empathy, love, fairness, and equality… You taught me those, father. What do you suspect I did?" he asked.
The Duke was quiet for a long moment. For a brief second Aaron saw a flash of something. Something that had once been so, so familiar… But then there was confusion and then indifference and then anger, and that something he'd seen was gone again. "You have only made their suffering that much worse… And this time you will get to witness it." Aaron paled. "It's time you learned the consequences of your actions, I think." Aaron gasped and turned to try and flee, but the Duke shot across the room swiftly and seized his son violently. "Come here, you!"
"No, no! Dad, please, don't! They didn't do anything! They didn't do it! Father, please! You're angry at me so punish me!" Aaron begged. They didn't deserve to suffer because of him, they didn't! The Duke turned a deaf ear on the pleas and marched the boy out, beckoning for guards, and the torturer, to follow him.
Frozen
"What right does that boy have to keep being innocent?!" Hans ranted, pacing in aggravation. "Hasn't he suffered under his father like we suffered under ours? So explain to me how it's even possible that, that… Ugh, just how is it possible? Tell me!"
"Wow, you're actually really worked up over this," Rhun remarked, both mystified and amused at his sibling's behavior.
"What right does he have to…?" Hans began.
"Remain innocent?" Rhun finished for his brother. "Because his father was probably a good man for a long enough time that he managed to inculcate those kind and merciful lessons into his son's heart. If that's so, even when he began to change, at least his kid still had the upright principles he had been taught to hold onto. He kept clinging to them to keep feeling like his father was still there. Besides that, our father was always around. From what I can discern, the Duke of Cumberland probably isolates himself a majority of the time from everyone, up to and including his child. Therefore, the bad influence he became wasn't able to corrupt his boy. Servants raised him more than his father did after the change happened."
"Did I ask you to speak sense?" Hans coldly asked, glaring at his brother and folding his arms.
"You're hating that kid for no good reason at all. You're acting like father," Rhun bit. He yelped as suddenly Hans was across the room, pinning him against the cell walls.
"Never say that again!" the youngest prince immediately snapped.
"Back off!" Rhun shot viciously, roughly shoving his brother back. Hans didn't let go and the two began grappling.
Suddenly the doors to the cellblock were opened. "Father, no! Please! I didn't mean to, I swear. Don't do this! Dad!" they heard the young boy, Aaron, pleading. The brothers froze, sharply looking over. Before they could think to pull away from one another, the Duke was there. He was holding his son's arm in a vicelike grip, the boy obviously in pain. He tried to struggle, but soon gave up with a sob, looking frantically at the two brothers, eyes begging for forgiveness. Did they even want to know what the boy needed to be forgiven for? Well, they supposed it wouldn't matter if they wanted to know or didn't. Whatever it was would happen either way.
The siblings pulled apart, immediately on the defensive. "Take them," the Duke ordered darkly.
"No! No, father, it wasn't them! I did it of my own accord! Hurt me, if you have to hurt anyone! Hurt me!" Aaron begged.
"Shut up!" the Duke viciously barked, violently shaking his son.
"Hey, back off! Let him go!" Hans ordered, immediately on the defensive.
"Take your hands off that boy!" Rhun backed. The cell door was opened and both Hans and Rhun were seized and dragged out. They scowled at the Duke viciously, eyes blazing. Aaron was silently crying.
"Take them to the torture chamber," the Duke commanded.
"Let me go in their place!" Aaron pled once more. He knew his father wouldn't, of course, in fact it was one of the things he clung to when he told himself his father wasn't gone completely, but maybe begging his parent to let him suffer instead would awaken something within the man that would help him get better.
Frozen
Hans and Rhun were dragged into the torture chamber. The door was shut behind them and locked tightly. The brothers looked up and went pale. Glass was being shattered on the ground. A device was being set up that was little more than a rope on a pulley, hanging down low to the ground. "Bind the older to the rope," the Duke commanded. They pulled Rhun roughly to the device and bound his wrists behind his back. Given how pale his brother was, it didn't take much for Hans to guess what they were going to do.
"Oh my god!" he exclaimed in horror, unable to stop himself. They would crank that pulley, the rope would be raised up, and… Dammit, they were going to suspend his brother in the air! He would be lifted by his arms. Arms that were tied behind him. Joints were not supposed to move like that… His brother's shoulders would be dislocated, bones might even snap like twigs, tendons would be stretched and ripped, and there they would suspend him in that agonizing position until he was unconscious from the pain!
Rhun looked at the glass in terror. The shards were massive and jagged and ugly looking. Some shards were tiny but numerous, and like blades sticking from the ground. They were going to throw his brother down onto those shards, make him kneel on them. Perhaps add weight to his body to drive the shards deeper and intensify the anguish caused. And while he knelt, they would burn or whip him, one of the two. Would it be worse than what they were going to do to him? He didn't care to know, frankly. At the end of the day it was torture, and it would be agonizing for them both.
Aaron gawked at the scene, looking mortified. Viciously they pulled Hans over to the glass shards and threw him down onto them, forcing him to kneel. He cried out in pain as the shards impaled his calves and knees. They bound his arms behind his back and ensured he stayed upright so that as much pressure as possible was put on said knees. He savagely bit back cries of pain. It helped that he was more horrified at what was happening to his brother. Even as weight was added to him, his eyes remained fixed on Rhun. They were raising him up. It wasn't long before his brother shrieked in pain and continued to cry out in his anguish nonstop. He heard the sickening sounds of dislocating joints. He shuddered when he heard what sounded like a snapping bone. Rhun tried his best not to thrash and struggle, but given the agony he was in, that was more than a little difficult to do. The younger prince sobbed, closing his eyes tightly. It took Hans's all not to beg for mercy to his sibling.
Hans suddenly screamed in pain as more weight was added to him, along with the agonizing sensation of burning. How long had that red hot metal been on him before he'd cried out, he vaguely wondered? The torturer was looking at him in shock, so he assumed his reaction to the sensation had taken longer than expected. A good deal longer. What was this thing they had placed on him?! It felt like a heated plate of armor. They tore it from him and he cried out in pain again, body jerking slightly and driving the glass deeper. He bit back another cry. The heated metal was pressed to him again, this time between his legs on his inner thigh. He screamed in pain, almost falling, but they ensured he stayed up. He writhed desperately, trying to break free.
And both princes were full aware how his brother's sobs and screams of pain echoed in his head. So did their own…
Aaron was weeping and screaming and begging his father to stop to torturer, struggling frantically to break free of the man and help the prisoners. They couldn't really make out his words, too consumed by pain, but there was begging and pleading. Probably nothing that the boy hadn't said before, but it was all he could say at this stage.
"Those men don't deserve your cruelty!" they heard the boy scream desperately at the torturer. Perhaps those words too would have been lost on the brothers, except they were followed by a cry of anguish as they heard something make contact with the child. Something that sounded too much like a fist or a staff for them to ignore. They'd both heard that sound many times before. The boy fell to the ground and was silent.
Rhun, facing that direction, was pale, mouth agape. The child wasn't moving! He saw blood appearing from a wound in the head, inflicted when the torturer's metal rod had connected. The little one wasn't dead, Rhun could have passed out from relief to know that, but it was no less horrible to see.
He remembered their father taking such actions again them before… Against him… Against his siblings… He remember he had done that before too, and felt sick at himself…
"What the hell did you do to him?!" Rhun heard the Duke furiously shout at the torturer. "I did not give you permission to strike my son!"
"Then you should have silenced him yourself. Be glad you were able to talk me out of putting him through this session rather than the princes," the torturer bit. Rhun saw Hans struggling, freaking out, unable to see the boy and not allowed to turn to look at him. Everything was becoming dark and blurry. He was going to go unconscious from the pain, Rhun realized. For that he was more grateful than he had ever been before… Soon there was nothingness, and he hung limply in the air.
Frozen
Hans watched in terror and pain as his sibling was lowered to the ground. He wanted to cry, but to do so would show weakness they couldn't reveal to the Duke. He couldn't know that maybe, just maybe, they might care for each other more than they'd believed. "Get him off of the glass," the Duke of Cumberland commanded angrily in defiance of the torturer, who now looked sorely put out. Hans felt the weight removed from him and felt himself being pulled off of the glass. Many shards were still buried in his legs and calves. They didn't even try to treat them or remove them. Should they get infected, what did it matter? He was a prisoner of war, not a guest.
Suddenly Hans realize how exhausted and tired he felt. He listlessly looked at the glass. For the first time he noticed how much blood had been drained from him. He felt that much more was still coming. He registered a warm and sticky substance covering his legs and leaking down. The damage was bad, he knew immediately. They turned the weakened prince, and his eyes widened in fear on seeing the young boy lying unconscious on the ground, bleeding from the head. The Duke's eyes were fixed on the child. Was it just him, or did the man seem suddenly paler than what he had seemed before? And that look in his eyes… It was something more than indifference this time. As if the man was trying to remember something or was reliving an event he'd long forgotten the feeling of. It was… Hans's eyes widened slowly. It was the look of a monster becoming a man… He knew that look all too well… He'd seen it many times, now, in himself.
His lips slowly parted. The Duke suddenly was back to indifferent and cold. What had happened to this man? It was almost like… Realization dawned on the young prince, and with it slowly mounting horror. It was almost like mirror was here. Either within the man or nearby. He couldn't think long on it now, though. The next thing he knew, he was being dragged back to the cell with his unconscious sibling. The last he saw of the Duke was a moment's hesitation and unease and confusion before the man bent down and picked his young son up in his arms, walking away from the cellblock and muttering an order for a doctor to be sent in for the boy...
Some Days Later
Hans struggled frantically as another bucket of water was poured over the towel covering his head. Rhun watched on, pale and wide-eyed.
Breathe, little brother. Keep telling yourself you're not drowning. Keep telling yourself they won't let you. Just breathe. Just breathe! Every moment you get a chance. Oh god, please don't panic.
"Why are you doing this?" Rhun managed to finally breathe.
"Surely you've interrogated before, or been interrogated," the Duke of Cumberland replied.
"He knows nothing! He's ignorant," Rhun said a little more urgently and fast than he probably should have, but it was apparent the Duke's mind was occupied elsewhere. He didn't dare think it was occupied on his son, but maybe? This look of distraction…It was different than the distracted looks the man usually got. The ones mixed with agitation as if he was impatient to get somewhere. This distraction he saw now… It wasn't the same, and so maybe, just maybe, the man's mind was on his son. He wondered when the father had last thought on his boy.
"Everyone knows something," the Duke replied, oblivious to the slip.
"Please. Stop," Rhun pled, taking a ballsy chance. "He. Knows. Nothing."
"Do you?" the Duke asked. Rhun was silent. The Duke grunted, but nonetheless waved the torturer off. The man poured one last bucked over Hans and then walked away, leaving him bound to the chair with the soaking wet towel still covering him. Frantically he tried to shake it off and soon succeeded, coughing and choking for air. Rhun breathed a subtle sigh of relief. Hans was shivering. Whether from the cold or the terror or the shock was hard to tell. Perhaps from all of it. Rhun was curious. What was his next torment going to be?
The Duke soon rose and went to the shaking prince. Hans looked at him, fear in his eyes. The shivering intensified. The Duke smirked icily. "Where are your walls now, prince? Where are your masks?" Hans's breathing sped up, pushing panic. Rhun wanted so badly to go to him. Calm him. Soothe him… The Duke severed the bonds and Hans threw himself out of the chair, scrambling desperately away from it. Towards him, Rhun realized. His eyes widened and he willed Hans to get a grip and not blow this. If he scrambled to his big brother for protection, they would be given away. Of course, at this stage Rhun wasn't sure he even cared anymore. He wanted his sibling near and preferably in his arms. If Hans was in his arms, at least he could disillusion himself into believing he could offer some form of protection to his baby brother.
Before Hans could reach Rhun, he was seized by guards again and unceremoniously bound. The Duke waved them away and they were returned, yet again, to their cell. The moment they were alone, Rhun leapt across the way and pulled his brother into a tight and protective embrace. Hans was still shaking. He let out a shuddering breath, pressing himself closer to his brother and squeezing his eyes shut. Rhun tightened his grip silently, resting his head on his sibling's and letting silent tears fall.
Frozen
The Duke stood in his son's room, against the opposite wall of the boy's bed. The child's head was bandaged. He'd been in and out of consciousness for days now. The doctors warned there was probably head trauma. It wasn't unlikely the boy was slipping in and out of a coma, in fact. When he was awake, though, he seemed to function alright. Always he would awaken. Always he would see doctors. Always they would ask a question that he would answer while frantically scanning the room. Then he would see his father, if the man happened to be there, and a calm would pass over him. Shortly after he would go into a coma again.
To put it simply, the Duke was at a total loss. Too many question, too few answers. Had the torturer really struck Aaron that hard? Was his son calmed by his mere presence despite what he'd put him through? A dark thought. Did his son truly not even mind being punished just because it meant that his father would be there? Too many thoughts were racing through his head. He needed to go to the room again. He needed to… to what…? He needed to be near it. The truth was shown in the mirrors, and through the windows he saw the true state of the world. There was nothing redeemable in it. Why fight to find goodness when no goodness existed? He would annihilate the corrupt kingdom, the corrupt enemies. He would erase the evil and ugliness. His son should not be surrounded by evil and ugliness. The boy was corrupted enough as it was. When his son had begun to get corrupted he didn't know. He knew only that it had happened. To save his son, the dark needed to be taken out of him and out of the world. By any means necessary. The more darkness he took out, though, the more seemed to spring up.
The Duke turned and went to the door. His hand reached out and took the knob. "Don't go. Please," he heard his son meekly whimper. He paused a long moment. Soon he looked back at the boy. The young one gazed at him beseechingly, begging with his eyes for daddy to stay… He couldn't stay. He had to go to the room. He had to… he had to go to the room… He harrumphed and turned his back on the boy, opening the door. "Hit me, father, please!" the boy pled suddenly.
Again the Duke froze. This time he was pale. "What?" he asked before he could even think.
"Hit me! Hate me, papa, yell at me, scream at me, hurt me, do something!" the boy begged. "Then you'll stay! Then you'll touch me again or hold me!" Even if it was only holding him to hurt him, at least the man would be there. "Beat me. Please."
"You've lost your head, boy," the Duke of Cumberland replied. "And I'm done with you."
"Don't go! Father, don't leave me! No!" Aaron pled frantically. The Duke left the room and gestured for the doctors to go to the boy and help him. He stopped, out of sight of the room but not out of hearing range. Soon the screaming and pleading stopped. Either the child had been sedated or had slipped into a coma. The Duke harrumphed and continued on.
Beat me, please… Hurt me. Then you'll stay…
The Duke sped up his pace. Part of him wanted to go back, wanted to be there… But it was a very small part, and the moment he entered the room, that part was buried away. The Duke stood basking in the light spilling through the windows, and gazing at the mirrors all around.
Frozen
Hans watched in silent agony as his brother was stripped naked, bound between two posts, and drenched in icy water. The night was so cold that he could see his breath. They were going to freeze his sibling. Rather, they were going to put him so near the freezing mark that it was very possible Rhun would end up hypothermic. They wouldn't let him die, the Duke of Cumberland wanted them alive, but oh how his sibling would suffer… Sure enough, it wasn't long before he could see his brother violently shaking. It wasn't long before he could see frost had caked Rudi's hair and skin. It wasn't long before the other had collapsed, held standing only by the ropes binding him.
"He would make a lovely ice decoration for the garden," the torturer nonchalantly remarked to the Duke and Hans both. "Don't you agree? Perhaps we should go through to death this time." Briefly Hans wondered if the Duke had even ordered this, or if it was just for the torturer's pleasure.
"Do to him whatever you want. I couldn't care less. At least he'll be out of my cell and out of my hair," Hans answered, forcing himself to don the mask of indifference and hatred again. It was what would save his brother now, if anything did.
"You're lying to me," the torturer said.
"You're right. I am. Oh no, now I suppose there's no chance at all you'll spare him. Rhun, I'm so sorry. At least, though, the dogs will make good use of your corpse," Hans said.
The torturer gave him a look that was somehow both amused and annoyed. The man shook his head hopelessly then turned back to the sight with a chuckle. "He's suffering. Oh how he's suffering," the torturer remarked.
"Now whip him," Hans said. "It'll wake him up again." The torturer laughed coldly but ordered no such thing.
Hans looked upwards from his position bound at the thus-far-silent Duke's feet. He scanned the palace quietly, appraising it. His gaze stopped on seeing a balcony outside of a room. On that balcony stood the Duke's little one. He wasn't sure this would work, but… "Your son is up. Here I'd believed you'd killed him."
The Duke turned his head, looking towards his boy's room. He pursed his lips tightly. The child was looking at Rhun wretchedly, obviously longing to go down to him and help him. Over his dead body. He would not have his heir fraternizing with the enemy. They would only corrupt Aaron farther. He turned attention back to Rhun. "Cut the prince loose and return his half-frozen body to his cell along with prince Hans!" The torturer scowled darkly at the Duke as if angered by the command.
"Yes sir!" the soldiers replied, quickly moving to obey. The Duke rose and headed back inside, ignoring the fuming torturer.
Frozen
"How much more can he put us through?" Rhun hoarsely asked.
Hans looked up from the pendant he'd been gazing at. Rhun hadn't really woken up for almost twenty-four hours now. The breaking of the silence was surprising, to say the least. Hans blinked then leaned his head back against the wall. "Don't tempt fate," he replied. There had been many a nasty device he'd spotted in that godforsaken chamber that had yet to be used on them. The torturer was far from done. He vaguely wondered how much of an influence the man's suggestions had on what was done to them. He also wondered just how constant a presence he was in the Duke's life. Every day a new torture session, every day a flogging… They were weak, both of them. The amount of weight they'd lost during their imprisonment… It was frightening, to say the least, and muscle was deteriorating, or starting to. Long ago they had lost their healthy glow. If anything, their faces seemed almost sunken. Hans looked down at his torso. You could see ribs now. He darkly and bitterly chuckled. Closing his eyes tightly, he leaned his head back. Weren't they in a sorry state, now? Humph.
"I want to go home," Rhun said.
"So do I," Hans replied. He was silent a moment. "Her last letter… Come back. That was all it said. Come back… I'm afraid for her… She seemed so alone, so afraid, so… She was scared… Scared and depressed and feeling crushed, and I… I couldn't write her back. I couldn't reply. I couldn't be there… Goddammit, it's been six months…"
"And it will be longer still… We will never be free again, Hans. We will die in captivity. Resign yourself to that and get it over with," Rhun replied.
"I'm not accepting that," Hans said. "And you damn well better not accept it either."
"Half a year… Before you can blink it will be one, then two, then five, then ten, and soon you will lose all concept of time. Before you know it you will be middle aged… Maybe when finally the boy takes his father's place we will be free again… By then, though, she will be gone… She will wait for no man, remember? You'll return to nothing. Nothing but your brothers, and who's to say even all of them will still be alive when you get home?" Rhun muttered. He grimaced, rubbing his shoulders that still ached from when they'd suspended him. Serious damage had been done, he knew. Not as serious as it could have been, but serious enough. He had trouble lifting things with as much ease anymore. He hoped it would heal, at least a little more, but if it didn't he wouldn't be surprised.
"We," Hans corrected.
"No… You… I'll die here, you know," Rhun remarked.
"Will you?" Hans asked.
"If I'm still here after five years, I'm taking my own life," Rhun deadpanned.
"You have a wife. You have children," Hans said. "You need to return to them, no matter how long it takes."
"She will be gone then…" Rhun whispered.
"I doubt it highly. And even if she is, you will still be your children's father," Hans said. "They wait for you. Don't let them wait so long only to find out you're gone."
Rhun was silent. "Talk to me about Elsa," he soon said.
Pain filled Hans's eyes before he quickly buried it. "Why?" he asked.
Rhun gave his brother an incredulous look. "Because for better or worse, she has become your longing," he answered.
"You're delusional. Go back to sleep," Hans said, rolling over so his back was to his brother. A silent signal they were done talking.
Rhun watched Hans for a long moment. "I'm sorry… That she's lost to you," he soon said.
"Shut up… It's not like I ever had her in the first place. Or wanted her, for that matter," Hans replied.
"It's not 'in the first place' anymore, brother," Rhun replied.
"Is there some part of shut up you don't get?!" Hans snapped. Rhun shook his head and sighed, laying back down and closing his eyes. It was best for them both if they just slept now anyway. If they didn't watch it, they'd start biting one another's heads off.
Frozen
Aaron sat in his room listlessly whittling. This time a carving of him and his father. The boat had been finished some time ago now. It was beautiful. Maybe he would give it to the young Admiral they had in captivity. If he could smuggle it there, it would be a welcome change for the brothers. He would even give his carving of the Vitruvian Man to Rhun. He paused, looking at his craftsmanship so far. Father as he once was, gently embracing him now. Loving him. Being a dad. Tears burned the boy's eyes again and he quickly shoved the carving under his pillow and buried his face in his knees. He wanted his father so, so badly…
The door opened and he sniffed, looking up. His eyes widened in hope. Father was there. "Dad…" he began.
"Get together your essentials. Quickly. Be ready to move castles at a moment's notice," the Duke said.
"Why?" Aaron questioned uneasily.
"Just in case the battle turns against us. The enemy has unveiled a secret weapon. The Snow Queen of Arendelle," the Duke said. The boy's eyes widened in wonder. Rumors had been spread of the mysterious snow queen. It was said it was the princes of the Southern Isles who had given her that title, and that she had been their enemy and then their ally. But her nation was neutral, wasn't it? Of course, one woman wasn't her nation. She was here for a reason. He didn't know why, but maybe the prisoners did? He decided he would have to see. For now he nodded to his father and hurried to gather together all of his essentials and a few things extra, just in case.
