I have never written twenty chapters before. This is a milestone for me.
Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail
It was dark, and Levy was afraid. Her joints hurt from the constant pull behind her back, and her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton from the lack of proper hydration. The wounds on her legs burned in the cold air, and the bruised skin ached with every shift of weight. Her dress did little to cover her properly. Levy was pretty sure that her left shoulder was dislocated.
Footsteps sounded along the dark corridor, and Levy shifted forward, gasping in pain as her scraped knees were rubbed against the uneven concrete that made up the floor of her cell. Carla was sound asleep in the corner, a ball of white fur. Levy envied her and her ability to sleep. If only Levy could use her magic and melt into the shadows. But the cuffs she was stuck in scrambled her senses, keeping her from using the power.
A man in a guard's uniform appeared in front of the cell door, a dirty plate in his hand. His hair was messy and blonde, his face thin and handsome. His eyes were piercing and blue. A small, vertical scar slashed through his right eyebrow. He unlocked the door, and it opened with a clang. Carla woke with a start, murmuring sleepily. The man set down the platter, and a piece of bread was on the plait, as well as some water in a cracked glass. Levy's empty stomach growled and turned, and her mouth watered at the very sight of the slice of bread. The man held up the bread, tilting the elf's chin so she could eat. When she finished, which she did quite quickly, he gave her water. Carla stood beside the plate, eating her own slice of bread hungrily. Levy began to cry. The Guard looked alarmed.
"Please..." Levy sobbed, "Please."
"P-please what?" The guard croaked. He wasn't supposed to talk to the prisoners.
"Help me." Levy felt horribly weak saying that, but she just wanted to see her husband again. "Help me, please. This is hell."
The man's eyes softened, and he looked at the dirty cat and the battered elf with regretful eyes. "I'm sorry, I can't."
Levy sobbed openly. "I just want to see my husband again."
"What's your name?" The guard asked gently, shifting his body into a sitting position. Levy hung her head, the strain on her right shoulder sending throbbing pain down to her fingertips, and the elf whimpered.
"Levy." She choked.
"Levy, my name is Sting. What happened to you?" The guard's voice was soft, and the tenderness was enough to make Levy begin to sob again.
"It hurts..." Levy whimpered, trying in vain to shift her shoulder into a more comfortable position. "Please..."
Sting brushed a stray strand of azure hair behind the elf's pointed ear, and she looked up at him. "I was taken. Taken from my home."
"Are you a Shadow Elf?" He asked.
"Yes." Levy replied, "My husband and I are both."
"Levy, do you know what's happening?" Sting's tone was firm, but not unkind.
The bluenette shook her head no.
"Why... are you being nice to me?" Levy wanted to know.
"Because I'm here to help. I'm with Titania."
"Titania?" Levy expelled, letting her body go stiff, but wincing when a flair of pain traveled through her body from her shoulder.
Sting looked around fretfully. "Keep your voice down. Yes, Titania captured one of the scouts. I am one of her knights."
The elf burst into hysterical sobs. "Please. Please, get me out of here. I'm begging you, please. I want to see my husband again."
The man gave her a reassuring smile. "I know. I will. Don't worry, Levy. You will be leaving here before Mard Geer comes for his next round of questioning."
Levy gave a sob of relief. "Oh, thank you, thank you."
The man began to get up, and he looked regretfully back at the shackled elf.
"Please, Levy. Hang on."
Sting walked back down the corridor with the empty dishes in hand. Another guard brushed past him, his expression unwavering. He passed countless cells, each one housing a different creature or being. A mermaid was shackled to the wall, her head limp on her chest. Her blue hair hung in a curtain around her head. She had a cut on her left arm, and it was starting to scab over.
Sting would do anything to serve his queen, but this place was horrific. Titania had told him to go and rescue any two prisoners. They might know what Mard Geer was planning. But from his conversation with Levy, even the prisoners didn't know. He entered the dark kitchen of the fortress, placing the plaits among the other prisoner's used dishes and utensils.
Now, a weapon. Something to break the chains. He needed to go the armory. But it was guarded.
"Damn." The blonde male hissed. He would go, though. Even though they knew nothing, he couldn't just leave them. Sting reached into the pocket in his belt, wrapping his fingers around the hilt of the small dagger within. It was sharp, but not nearly sharp enough to cut through steel.
The armory was at the end of a hall opposite the kitchen, and a man with short dark hair stood in front of the door. Sting approached him.
"I need to get inside." He said, making sure to keep his face blank so the man wouldn't grow suspicious.
He gave him a quizzical look. "What for?"
"My sword broke."
"Oh?" The man scratched the patchy beard growing on his chin, "How?"
"I... was beating a prisoner."
The man looked appalled. "Damn. You're strong."
"Uh. Yeah. I've been told that before."
The soldier was turning, a key in hand when he froze. "Wait a second. Why were you beating a prisoner with a sword?"
Sting gulped. Dammit, dammit, dammit. "More threatening that way. I... could shift it any second and slice them to ribbons."
The blonde tried his best to smile sadistically, but it probably just ended up looking like a grimace. Oh god.
But to Sting's surprise, the guard bought it. "I like the way you think, new guy."
The heavy metal door swung open, and Sting pushed past the guard and inside.
The armory was high ceilinged, and the walls were lined with weapons of all shaped and sizes. Sting's gaze fell on a thick-bladed sword, it's hilt gild with a leather grip. That would do. He tested the sharpness with his fingertips, not pressing hard enough to draw blood. He slid the heavy sword into the holster on the belt, and excited the armory with a curt smile at the man who'd let him in.
It's show time.
The great escape! Yay! Now, onto the next chapter!
~Starry