A/N: Hello anyone and everyone. If you've been here before, thank you for returning, or thank you for dropping in. Please note I've made changes since the original post. Some things are different because this little one-shot is now a beautiful, collaborative piece with the wonderful sunflower lizzolukosko Please read her story What If? if you haven't already. I hope everyone is staying safe indoors and washing their hands.

Disclaimer: I really hope you don't believe for a moment that I own anything associated with Twilight.

_x_

Another fucking captive. This man never tires of violence…

"A gift for you, my queen, I hope you'll enjoy it," he added, when he's well aware of my disdain for his murderous nature, the fire which fuels his bloody games. He brought yet another captive from one of the many tribes he seeks to eliminate from his land.

I need some goddamn ale –

"Another drink for you, Queen Isabella."

"Yes, thank you!" Right on time, the young red-headed server handed me a glass of wine.

Edward says Washington's queen should never drink ale. The one and only time I was spotted with a pint on my lips in Forks I had to spend a week with the children's tutor, learning noble etiquette with the youth.

This morning my lungs were all but squeezed out through my mouth as his dressmakers tightened my corset beyond its limit. Sure, my tits pour out the top the way he likes them, but what good is it if I'm suffocating? Not that he cared - if my husband had his way, he would have me at his service with my mouth sewn shut on a daily basis.

I was escorted to breakfast where, by design, I could barely eat. The days here were planned with the intention to starve me. I walked myself to the castle's main doors while no one was looking, hoping to have a somewhat peaceful day, and yet standing expectantly were his - ahem - lovely sisters, Alice and Rosalie.

I sighed, letting go of my hope for a quiet day.

_x_

"Good name day Queen Isabella, you should expect much to transpire this afternoon. King Edward has requested we accompany you on your civil duties and while we agree that feeding the homeless and sharing prayer is highly rewarding, as well as our responsibility as nobles, I believe we can still inspire good faith in our Lords at the markets by the city's…"

Oh Alice, please shut up. She continued on her rant about the shops, ignoring my obvious disinterest. I never understood her obsession with garments and stitches but as the youngest Princess and the city's "Highest Fortune Teller," it probably pays to look the part. Now if only she could notice I'm not listening, and neither Is Rosalie.

"Good name day," Rosalie muttered as her sister continued, ignoring the inane chatter of her sister.

Rosalie was never kind, quite rude to be honest, but never cruel like the rest. Alice may seem sweet, but leave her and Edward alone for an hour and you'll find blood on their hands sooner or later.

Regularly, I head to the shelters and city outskirts with a multitude of Edward's guards, not that I want to walk in this city alone. I refuse to imagine the horrible things these people wish on me, let alone the horrendous actions men might try, in a misguided plan for revenge…

I come for the relative silence I find in feeding the homeless and sharing prayers. I get a moment of uninterrupted time to think. I make sure the city knows the Cullens encourage reading prayers and wish good blessings on all, despite them not doing so themselves. I'm not religious, but a queen should set the example, or so I've been told too many times to count. No God ever bothered to hear my prayers.

Neither Edward nor his siblings would dare venture there. They've shared a repulsion to the poor in the city, wanting them thrown out. "They're a nuisance; thieves and murderers." Almost like the Cullen's but without money.

Alice was clearly set on avoiding my daily tasks. We roamed the markets, stopping frequently for Alice to inquire about 'interesting' pieces, and once for her to fit me into lingerie meant for His Highness later in the night. Now I see why they were waiting to accompany me. Oh yes, I'm accepting as much wine as I'm offered tonight.

_x_

"Isabella, at least attempt to look lively for your guests tonight."

"My apologies, Your Highness, I was under the impression that you and I had an agreement." The music in the ballroom began to die down as the sound of marching soldiers grew in the distance.

"I believe we agreed on an enjoyable night of festivities."

"I remember my word choice may have been 'peaceful,' and 'quiet,' Your Highness." I replied, laying a thick layer of sarcasm over the words.

I turned my head from the excited guests to face him full-on. I won't allow him to believe this is like our usual banter on the thrones. I won't watch another killing tonight.

"You know our definitions of 'enjoyable,' may vary. He's been restrained and silenced, I felt that was a close middle ground," he said with his signature malevolent smirk.

Oh, how much I hate that smirk! That smirk gives me goose hairs and sends a tingle down my spine. It's become so familiar, it's a warning to anyone who has gotten on his bad side, which happens to be just about everyone. His green eyes have this spark in them, almost mischievous but much darker. They haunt my worst recurring nightmares. This can't be good…

The music has stopped now, and Edward's soldiers have marched in, dividing the ballroom. Our guests are so interested in what the armored men carried in, they peer around each other and spill their drinks on the floor in a flurry of motion.

The crowds part to let in a carriage, but not like the ones I'm used to being paraded around in. No, this is more of a crate than a carriage, lacking any fancy materials and the Cullen's usual colors.

I've seen this happen before, Originals dragged before us in chains, some physically and visibly drained, others still sobbing. Any city thieves brought in are at least treated like humans when they have their hands chopped off. Edward treats Originals like animals. "Savages," he calls them. It always ends the same.

"Edward, this will not happen."

His eyes flash dark, his expression changing. That hideous smirk is about to change into something far worse. I can already feel the bruises, identical to the yellowing spots on my ribs, and I know I'll see his wrath later. Before I upset him too much, I switched gears.

"You know I get nauseated; do I honestly need to remind you of that on my own name day? The sight of blood, even the smell of it, Edward –" He falters, just for a moment, but that's all I need.

"I believed this would lift your spirits, you're always bitching about your age."

Oh, here we go, not again with the age-old argument. Ugh, I can smell the alcohol on his breath. The moment he swears I know he's had one too many. I'm not far behind, my own glass nearly drained.

"So, you intended to make me sick on the one night you swore to please me? How would another slaughter please me, pray tell?" I know he doesn't like to argue in front of guests, this is my chance to stop this – postpone it, rather. If there isn't a slaughter tonight, he'll arrange a viewing for tomorrow.

"Your Highness, King Edward Cullen and Queen Isabella."

And now the rant. The lead general begins announcing their catch which I am, unfortunately, all too familiar with.

"… from beyond our marked northern territories, an enemy of the country is brought to you by your loyal men in armor. He was spotted by a camping villager and reported by raven to the Eastern Post. Our men rushed to the site and further tracked upwards beyond our claimed land for the purpose of appeasing you, Your Highness, Queen Isabella."

Edward was so enthralled he didn't notice the wink his First General gave me. Not that he'd say anything of it. They're all pigs.

"I have the pleasure of presenting to you... Chief Black, of the Quileute."

No. I didn't believe they would catch him. The very man Edward's been off about for weeks. Chief Black orchestrated the largest ambush in Washington country. 30,000 of our countrymen died in battle. He must have gathered all Original peoples in the surrounding land to counter Edward's plans. He had me hidden in a bunker for days with a vial of Mortal's Rest in case they infiltrated the city. I heard rumors he alone killed a thousand men during that battle. No, Black is dangerous. And they're releasing him?

"Edward, isn't he dangerous?" He couldn't be serious?

"Oh? Just a minute ago you wanted to sit for tea with the savage, now he's dangerous." He laughed incredulously while I recoiled in horror. He was really enjoying this.

"Edward, I beg of you, I –"

"Now you realize how safe you are within the castle's walls." He leaned into me, closing some of the distance between our thrones. "You want him dead, or alive? Decide now," he whispered firmly.

As he gets close, his voice lowers, becomes deadly, like the hiss of a snake getting ready to strike. And I know if I squeak a 'yes' or anything that sounds like an approval, he'll do it. There's not a doubt in my mind. And while I'm terrified of what's about to happen, and his boiling temper, the violence and his hatred for the Original people is exhausting to observe.

"Alive," I breathed, my voice steadier than I expected.

"Alive." He pauses for a moment. "Alive for now. For you. Good name day, my Queen Isabella."

Edward stands and faces his men while they drag Chief Black out of his cage, and he's not at all what I expected him to be. The soldiers are rough with him, they drag him to the bottom of our steps with his head down. I looked down from my throne and the man I see doesn't match a single description I've been given.

He's like Edward said he would be, restrained and gagged, but they left him clothed. Some of the Originals they've brought have been naked, but he's bare-chested and strong, and suddenly I understand why it took so many men to bring him here. His hair is black and long, braided down his back. His hands alone are each probably the size of my head. His skin is covered in tattoos, unlike the ones I've seen before. Tattoos have always been taboo here, but when I was a girl, I heard the Originals gave them meanings.

"Chief Black," Edward addressed him yet he doesn't move. He knows he's here to die. "Today is the name day of a special person. My wife, and your queen, Her Highness Isabella. At her request, there will be no trial at this time."

Trial, a poor euphemism for slaughter. An audible groan comes from the crowd. These bastards really look forward to this sadistic shit.

"Be prepared for a trial in the morning." I hear gasps and know he's serious; there will be an even larger crowd tomorrow for the trial of the Chief. Edward is all about appearances, he likely doesn't mind postponing this trial for the suspense, maybe even the grandiosity of it all. "General Newton, take Chief Black to his temporary quarters."

That's when I see his face, he glances up and I catch his eyes. His eyes are deep brown, like truffles, but I see remorse and despair. Pain – he's in an immense amount of pain. Did I prolong this man's suffering?

"With pleasure, Your Highness." Edward sat back down and the First General along with twelve other men took Chief Black away to the cells in the dungeon.

Temporary quarters my ass…

"Was that alright, Queen Isabella?" He mocked, looking out into the merging bodies as they begin to dance as the music resumes. I sat, still shaking, my nerves still stimulated. I flip the bottom of my glass up, gulp down the remains, and motion to the help for more. Edward takes another pint and I drink deeply.

After I've had a minute to sit, I finally voice a quiet, "Thank you."

"I expect an enthusiastic 'thank you' later," and I know what he's referring to.

"Another glass!"

I'm not looking forward to tonight.

_x_

I lay on my side in bed thinking about Chief Black. I drank far too much. Edward and I got into our chamber together and I immediately ran to relieve my stomach, my glasses of wine and full course meal making a reappearance.

"What was the point of not killing him if you were going to puke anyway?"

Oh shit, he was mad. Honestly, I knew I drank too much, I just didn't feel like letting him fuck me tonight, is all. This had become one of my most useful tactics, though it makes me feel weaker with each use. He kept yelling until he got tired and walked out.

"I'll be back soon."

So here I am, laying up on my side in bed, listening to Edward and one of his whores grunt and moan on the other side of the wall.

Better her than me…

I keep thinking back to Chief Black and the haunted, empty look in his eyes. I probably made this all so much worse… I refused to think about what they would do to him during the night. I feel the need to go find him, but what'll they do if Edward's guards catch me down there alone? I don't want to risk it.

I fucked up. I kept him alive, but for what? Edward is going to kill him tomorrow anyway.

Why is Edward like this? This is nothing like I hoped my life would be when I was a girl. How did little Bella Swan end up with such a monster for a husband? I can't help myself from sobbing hot, wet tears, sticking to my chin and running down my neck.

When I was all dried out, I sat up and really thought about him, the Chief. It's my fault he's here. He's here for my name day and in a cell somewhere because I wanted to postpone the inevitable. Were my only two options really to let him die tonight, or let him die tomorrow? Why can't I just set him free?

Hold on - why don't I set him free?

It may be the worst idea I've ever had. Maybe I've had worse, but this is one of those dangerous thoughts I'll really have my ass handed to me for. But it's also one I can't push away, this third option is the only one that makes a difference.

As I start changing into my nightdress and dark robes, grabbing my handmaid's satchel, I begin a mental list of things he may need. A knife, shoes, clothes; he definitely needs water and something to eat. Maybe two knives? In case he loses one or needs two to fight? I really don't know what it is he'll need but I'm determined to try my best and make my way down. No need to be silent yet, I can tell by the guttural moaning drifting through the walls that Edward's still not done.

I run to the kitchen floors below my chambers and sneak out some bread and a canteen. Ooh, can't forget a bottle of wine. I creep my way towards the back cupboards, where my handmaid showed me the secret place she hides her rum - handmaids have it tough too. This was the good wine I had smuggled in from the summerlands for my name day last year. He doesn't need the wine, that's really just for me. I can drink that on my way back up to calm the adrenaline that's sure to follow. I grab two knives and boots from the guard's unmanned stationary and head down.

On my way to the dungeons I hear men off in the corridors. Good, they left him alone. Hopefully this goes as smoothly as I'm hoping for. I walk down the hall and down the basement stairs. There's an exit to the yard here which will be perfect for his escape so long as no one is around. God, this place is huge. This floor is barely lit; prisoners aren't kept within the castle anymore, most of them didn't live long enough to see these cellars anyway. I can barely see anything anymore.

"Chief?" Should I be whispering or shouting? I doubt there are any guards here, they would have heard me by now. "Chief?" I say a little louder, hoping he really is down here.

"Mhh..." I hear a muffled groan further down and start at the noise. I can tell I'm getting closer by his heavy, labored breathing.

"Chief Black?"

I pick up the pace, though I have no idea where I'm going. As cruel as Edward had been to me, he's never stuck me down here. The heavy breathing becomes more clear and I know I'm nearby. I realize my eyes are adjusting to the darkness as I feel my way around. I believe I'm at a cell, but I can't feel an entrance, only metal beam after metal beam. I hear movement and walk to where I think there should be a door, but I don't find one. I can just make out a shadow on the ground and my breath hitches in my throat. I know this must be him. Did they leave this cell open?

I creep up so as not to startle him but he's not looking my way. His back is to me while lying on the ground. Damn me for being this man's cause of pain. "Chief Black?" What do I even say, do I apologize? I'm sorry I told them to bring you to a dark, filthy cell, prolonged your suffering, and allowed them the chance to beat you senseless. I doubt that would go over well.

I kneel down and think maybe I should look over him. If I could just see his injuries –

I size up his large body. He's massive now that I'm standing directly over him. I sniff, expecting the smell of sweat, but not copper. Copper? Ugh, blood – it has to be blood. I smell that familiar metallic note in the air. No, Bella, don't get sick, this isn't the time.

He shifts over and groans in pain. As he adjusts himself to face me, I take the sight of him in again. While I can't see much in this darkness, I can see conflict in his eyes. He's still restrained, arms behind his back, feet tied and mouth gagged. He's still panting. My heart throbs as I realize he must be bruised all over. I find it hard to believe Edward's men wouldn't get their full enjoyment out of this situation.

"I – I want to help you. I don't know how much I can help, but…" I reach for the knife I brought him and walk behind him to cut him out of his ties. He's still for a moment, likely in disbelief of being freed. His cell is wide open. It's a bit of a walk to get out but as long as his legs aren't broken, he should be alright to escape. We have horses here, which could get him out of the city within minutes.

I rip through the ropes around his wrists, ankles, and behind his head. "You're free now. I brought you some things I thought might be useful to you–"

Without any warning, the wind is knocked out of my body. I'm pinned to the ground with his large body straddled over me and his hands around my neck. I hadn't – thought – about – this – I'm running out of air.

"Please, stop–" I croaked out as best I can - but I'm getting dizzy - and he's really going to kill me.

I'm going to die here; this is what I get for thinking I could help. He's looking down over me, his eyes are glossy, but I see he's determined. I grab his arms and try to pull them off, as if that'll do anything. I'm losing all my strength and I'm losing my sight as everything starts to fade.

He releases me and backs away from my body. I immediately gasp for air, choking on a breath as I take it in. Holy crow this hurts, my throat has all but been crushed in. Still gasping, I grab onto my chest, it burns as my lungs expand and take in the damp air. As I try to breathe it out, if that's even possible, I notice he's sitting on the ground, watching me from feet away.

"Why did you come?" He asks quietly.

Why did I come? If only I knew he'd try to kill me, maybe I would have left him here.

"I'm sorry," I gasped. I'm so close to tears, I came down to free him and here I lay, almost passed out on the floor. If Edwards finds out about this, he'll throw me in a cell for sure. "I didn't want you to die," I choke out through a sob.

I'm such a mess. It's true though - I didn't want to watch another death. One of his hands clutched at his abdomen while the other held onto a metal beam as he kneeled off the ground. His legs do work, good. Now I need to be sure mine do too so I can get back.

"Here," throwing the satchel of supplies on the ground limply, and it lands with a muted clink at his feet. "There are horses at the west end of the castle grounds. Take one and go before they find you."

I brace myself and gather enough strength to get up. Slowly Bella, no clumsy mistakes tonight. I've already been choked half to death. I need to get back upstairs now.

"And you?"

"Me?" What about me?

"You're staying?"

What kind of question is that? Where could I even go? People would recognize me and report me by raven. Any one of our countrymen would take advantage of returning a runaway queen. The missing queen of Washington, I can't imagine the bounty Edward would put up; I don't believe any men or women would be too friendly about ensuring my safe return.

"You want to leave, don't you?" He approaches me slowly and takes my arms in his hands. "You should leave," he says as he rubs his thumbs over my wrists, running over my scars from years ago.

In my first year of marriage, I did something unimaginable. Edward wanted an heir and while I wasn't ready to take that step - barely knowing him, and what I did know was dark and sinister - I was forced to provide. While the process wasn't kind to me, I still went through motions as a queen, doing my due diligence. Renesmee became my reason for living, continuing this miserable life. My every thought was about her and how I would protect her when she arrived. For the first time in a long time, I actually felt excited about something. Then I miscarried, and the blood that poured out from my womb felt like my soul leaving my body. The very reason for my existence ripped away from me. They found me not a whole moon later, arms running with blood, passed out in the garden.

His expression softens ever so slightly, and I seriously wonder if those scars are what stopped him from killing me.

"I don't know where I would go. He'll send for me."

I'll never be safe, he'll always have someone chasing after me. The only place I can imagine I might find a normal life would be across the sea, so far off that no bounty hunter would bother searching.

"Not where I'm going. Come."

"Don't get my hopes up."

Only in my wildest dreams have I been able to escape. To be able to escape undetected, without a single follower, free to live my life. Living a nomad or a gypsy lifestyle; I did say wildest dreams. Once upon a time, that would have been possible, but little Bella had that choice taken from her long ago...

But I can't help but wonder. "Where are you going?"

"Come with me and I'll show you." Still holding onto my wrists, he's got a good grip on me, except this time it's comforting. It's not rough and deadly like it had been moments ago. Now he's warm and gentle, seeming genuine.

He's asking me to run away from everything I've ever known. Of course, I've thought about it before, but this is real now. This was no longer a fantasy; this was a choice.

Ever since my mother exchanged me for a pardoned debt from gambling, I've had each and every choice taken away from me. I've had to choose my battles as they came and settle for much less than I know I deserve. I've been violated, maimed, objectified, and neglected. What if I could run away and start over? Even if I don't know where, once we're far enough I can make my own plans, live in another country, somewhere free from monarchs and royalty.

A voice breaks through my reverie just as I begin to think about a life without Edward. "…He's a prick, but I've gotten immunity by being First General…"

They're coming! But I need more time to decide, to savor the luxury of a choice. Looking up into his eyes, I see them well enough to understand that it's a serious question, and his actions will be based on my decision. He could help me out of the city at the very least, if we survive…

"Isabella? Choose now."

I'm feeling so cornered in my own head. I can stay and face Edward's wrath for setting Chief Black free or risk dying for my freedom, leaving everything behind and starting fresh. I may never get this chance again; this may be a bad decision but it is mine to make.

"Let's go. Now."

They're getting closer. It should be a while before the guards' eyes adjust to the darkness, we may just make it out alive.