Disclaimer: "Throne of glass" series belongs to Sarah J. Maas, not me. The quote in bold in this chapter is a direct quote from "Empire of Storms" not my own writing. Also "Baby Mine" (not quoted merely used as inspiration) was written by Ned Washington and composed by Frank Churchill for Disney's movie "Dumbo". None of the rights belong to me.
A/N: The four tapping lullaby that Rhoe and Aelin exchange in greeting I set to the tune of "Baby Mine". Rhoe's tapping is to the end of the chorus line "Never to part" and Aelin's is "Baby of mine". Also...
TRIGGER WARNING! This chapter contains torture and a vague mentioning of rape (some beastality) and internal warring over what happened. I tried to be extremely vague though.
CHAPTER 7:
Eight months later...
Two bright eyes watched a leather clad guard exit the cell from the shadows. A pitcher of water carelessly sloshed about in the guard's hand. The hidden figure held his breath as the towering male pulled the cell door shut and reached for the jingling keys at his hip.
The guard stopped as the sound of footsteps approached. His hand switched to the hilt of his sword before a fellow guard was revealed. He dropped his arm immediately and questioned the newcomer, "Is he coming?"
The comrade stopped in the arched hallway entry, voice gruff, "He's still upstairs." He jerked his head. "She's now summoned for both of us, come on."
The first guard set the water jug down on a nearby weathered bench and strode out.
The quiet figure stayed in his spot, listening, until the departing strong voices and boots faded entirely. He kept his eyes and ears open, like he'd been taught, and peered around the corner at the rest of the cell block. Empty. A giddy smile lit up his face. Now with the coast clear, he ran for the unlocked door.
Throwing all of his weight into the thick metal, he strained and pushed until it creaked open reluctantly. It wasn't cracked more than a foot but it was enough for him to slip through. He quickly scanned the familiar room, searching. It was also empty. A disappointed sigh tumbled out. He really needed to see her today.
Regardless, Rhoe walked up to the large box-which had been recently moved to the back of the room- and lifted his finger.
Tap-tap-tap-tap
He waited for the response greeting, rocking hopefully on the balls of his feet.
On one of his first lone ventures down to see her, his mother had been in the box then too. He had tried to get her attention, calling, again and again without result. During his next visit he had confessed to Aelin as they sat on the floor, "I thought you were upset with me." She had pulled him close in an apologetic hug and explained that she wasn't and would never ignore him intentionally; she just hadn't been awake at that time. It was then that they came up with the idea for days she was in the box. So that Rhoe could check if she was awake or not, they came up with a two-part tap greeting from a lullaby. Then for days her voice was lost, they came up with a couple of additional conversational codes. Rhoe took to it with fervor and it's been put into much use since.
A muffled clanking sounded from the other side now. Then a calmer pace answered: Tap-tap tap tap.
A joyous giggle left him, and he quickly tapped more of their code. Counting to himself, '1' tap, '2' tap, '3' tap, 'Are you okay?'.
Tap, 'Yes'. Tap tap tap, 'Are you okay?'
'1' Tap, 'Yes'. Rhoe reached behind him to pull out a paper from its hiding place in his pants. Proudly, he looked his work over then looked back up at the formidable box. He lifted himself on tiptoes and pushed against the lid. Nose crinkling as he strained. A breath, then strained again. When it won't budge, he gave up with a huff, "Can you come out, please?" Studying the box closer he found the seam and tried to fit the paper into it. The paper scrunched and flopped against the solid surface to no avail. He explained, "I want to show you a picture I drew."
"I wish I could, Starlight," Aelin said sincerely, "Why don't you tell me about it?"
"Well, I drew you and me holding hands and my Ribbit's hopping, real high, mama!"
"That's sounds nice! Where's Ribbit going?"
"I don't know! Just jumping. He likes doing it and I do it with him like—" His feet thudded on the stone floor repetitively as he hopped in demonstration.
Distant footsteps join in and he stopped. Rhoe turned toward the door with a gasp, listening. The voices of the guards from earlier and a new one now drifts down the halls. He hurtled himself against the iron coffin and said urgently, "I hear someone coming!"
"Okay, shh," came Aelin's muffled reply, "Go hide where you did last time."
"Okay, mama!" The four-year-old whispered back before rushing around behind the box and dropping down, knees to his chest.
The voices got closer. Rhoe held his breath as the door groaned open. Three sets of boots stomped into the musky room.
The new male spoke up once the door was shut firmly, "Our queen would be most displeased if her guest were to escape due to your error." Keys were thrust into the coffin's lock. The solemn new voice, whom Rhoe placed as Connall, continued, "At least you remembered to lock this."
"I-I know I didn't leave the door open! And I could've sworn I locked it!" The first guard Rhoe had seen earlier cried, "Don't tell her, sir, I swear it won't happen again-!"
"See that it doesn't," Connall stated coolly.
Rhoe curled tighter into himself as the lid was lifted and settled onto its hinges above his head with a mighty THUMP.
A series of metallic clanks sounded as the box's anchors were released from Aelin's bonds. More clattering came from a few feet away. Then the guards hauled her out.
Aelin felt herself be dragged across the floor. Her head and stomach complaining in synchronization at the movements. A sharper pain lanced through her scalp abruptly, upsetting her body further. One of the guard's now grasped the top of her hair by its roots, lifting her chin and baring her throat. She felt thick cool metal wrap instantly around her neck. It clicked in her mind while it clicked closed, locking: A collar. Not of wyrdstone, thankfully, just iron.
Aelin reminded herself that it wasn't the first time they'd shackled her neck. Yet, everything inside her balked at what this particular one represented. She asked lowly, "Is Cairn trying a new approach? Give me a hint, is this a puppy, or slave, roleplay?" Her center of gravity spun wildly as she was forced down onto her stomach.
"Neither," Connall replied, "And Cairn isn't participating in this session today actually." A chain lead was attached to her collar then locked—along with the chain linking her wrists—to the floor. Confusingly enough, the manacles on her ankles were removed entirely. "He requested it, yes, many times, but our Queen wasn't too sure there'd be anything salvageable left of you if he were allowed."
A guard on her left picked up, "So Her Majesty chose us instead for this job. But don't worry…," Someone's hand stroked down the back of her thigh and she jerked. The male finished, "…we're still ordered to leave you in shreds."
Light flared on either side of her. Wolves now crouched in place of the three Fae. A chorus of deep growls begun. Aelin jumped as one barked viciously, close by. Their growls continued rumbling, circling her. She twisted her head side to side trying to keep track of them by sound and scent alone. The click of their claws stopped. She took a steadying breath… and they leapt.
Aelin was slammed to the side at the force. One set of teeth instantly sank into her shoulder while another tore into her waist wrenching an agonized cry from her. The third wolf's growl was punctuated by powerful barks above her. His front paws stepping on her back as he grabbed the top of her thin shift in his maw. Tugging incessantly, ripping it inches at a time. She barely paid attention to the pull from the front of the garment against her throat, choking her slightly, with the other two wolves continuing their attack from every angle.
A paw came slashing down for her cheek, leaving blood streaking from the long scratches. Another raked his claws down her spine, snarling. Sweat and crimson slickened her increasingly with every bite and swipe. She strained against the collar and chains with the intention to curl up but they were at their full length. Reversing the direction, she tried to drag herself forward to get enough slack. The wolf at her back noticed her attempt and released the fabric in his mouth. Aelin let out another shriek as his mouth clamped hard on her ankle and yanked her back.
He tugged again, shaking his head, digging his teeth deeper while the others scraped at her upper half. Then he ceased his growling for a moment, releasing her ankle and barely dodging a firm kick from her other leg. The black wolf's ears perked up. He turned picking up a different voice in the room and shifted back to his true form. The remaining wolves ceased their attack momentarily looking up at him in question.
Over her ragged breaths, Aelin heard it too. All of their heads turned toward the sound coming from behind the sarcophagus: The shrill, terrified crying of a young child. She could tell by how soft the cries actually were that even though he was obviously scared, he was trying so hard not to be discovered. A sob that had nothing to do with her wounds left her.
She turned her head toward his voice when Connall asked, "How—?" He cut himself off. After a few tense moments, his steps echoed as he headed for the sound. "You should be weeping with gratitude that Cairn wasn't the one to find out."
Connall walked around the box and crouched to the child's level. Fabric grated across stone as Rhoe scooted away from the male, still crying. Fearfully pulling back from the reaching arms. The cry of, "No! Stay away!" shuddered out of him before Connall managed to get ahold and the two disappeared.
Aelin allowed her head to drop. Resting it on an untouched but blood splattered patch of her bicep. Jaw clenching uncontrollably against her body's pulsing. Tears welled in her eyes as Rhoe's cries replayed in her mind. This was one of the many risks of Rhoe sneaking down alone. Hearing, seeing her get injured. Witnessing the methods her captors implemented. He'd come in once, months ago, not long after one of Cairn's whippings. She had still been suspended in her binds, unconscious, bleeding heavily onto the floor. She'd been roused then by a little shaking hand patting her leg and hysterical calls. She wasn't sure which of them was more traumatized by the instance. Since then, she'd tried to ingrain it into him not to visit if he could scent that mama was hurt. But being stuck in the cell with her when a session begins… there was no way around that. She could merely hope that Rhoe had only heard what just happened and at least not seen it.
The wolves panting breathes brushed against her skin and she heard their tails swish against the stones, sitting. Facing her on either side. Waiting.
Their claws click again though as they quickly stand back up at the reappearing flare of their leader's magic. His footsteps approached Aelin, hitting the floor with a sharp vigor. Knees smacked the ground beside her and pain lanced through her scalp once more. Head pulled back by her hair. The front of her collar also gripped, commanding her attention. Connall questioned, "How did he get down here?"
Aelin pressed her lips tightly together. Almost wanting to laugh. The keys, the blood oath, death, all of those would come before she'd say a word against her son in any circumstance.
"Fine," Connall bit out, then hissed in her ear, "But this is your only warning: Ensure it doesn't happen again. For your sake and his."
"Don't you dare threaten him—!" She started fiercely; teeth bared. The grip on her was removed suddenly. She didn't have time to comprehend the shifting before she was knocked onto her back. The black wolf barking ferociously in her face.
The others took that as their cue and reengaged; places now switched to her lower half. Bite after bite, the three tore at her ravenously. Drawing cries and screams from the writhing queen. One of her struggling kicks eventually found home on a guard-wolf's sensitive nose causing him to stumble back momentarily with a whine. But rather than deter him, it seemed to motivate him. The wolf lunged for the half-torn remnant of her shift.
Through the agony of the attack, Aelin felt the back of her covering tear away completely.
What happened next, once it dawned on her, once the three Fae warriors behind her, above her, all over her, in her, carried out their goal. Shifting back and forth between male and beast throughout. Hands gripping her collar alternating with razor sharp teeth in a gaping mouth pinning her neck as she struggled desperately. Weeping. Shaking. Sobbing sometimes raging her protests and threats that all fell on deaf ears. What happened accomplished something the entire past five years hadn't. What happened in those moments, wasn't simply a breaking of her will but an extinguishing of her spirit.
Everything within her wanted to call out to her husband. Seek refuge and comfort in their bond. But as his name arose, shame stifled her. Smothered her so violently she found herself dragged far away from that channel. Almost as though the Valg princes were back, she begun to spin and sink under each name and criticism that threw itself at her, both familiar and new. Coward. Weak. Unfaithful. Undeserving. Failure. Unfit to rule a kingdom. Unfit to lead. Unfit to parent. Unfit for your mate. Disgusting. Dirty. Used. Unworthy. Look at Adarlan's Assassin now. Look at the supposed heir of Terrasen now. Look at the fire-breathing queen. Can't even protect herself or her child. How was she ever supposed to protect anyone else? Useless. Disappointment. Disgrace.
Crushed by each thought pushing her further away, Aelin didn't even recognize the presence that slid easily into her mind. The sharp talons that swept through her memories until it halted at one: The fateful day on the beach over five years ago.
Vulnerable and too drained to resist, she was made to relive the events a few times over as the dark presence studied the images intently. The talons narrowed the scenes down and down until…
Aelin stepped forward, nudging Manon with the side of her body as she passed—forcing the witch to back away. Aelin grinned. "Want to dance, Maeve?"
The moment replayed and froze at precisely the second the key's weight dropped from her hand into the witch's pocket.
Aelin gasped a simple, "No!" but it was too late. Maeve's magic pulsed victoriously before pulling out of Aelin's mind; returning them both to the present.
Maeve's murmured orders to the guards barely reached Aelin in her fragile state, "…Place her back in the sarcophagus until I return. Minimal amount of water, no food. Increase her iron dosages. Leave the collar and put the mask and gauntlets back on as well."
"Yes, my Queen," The guards replied in unison as she left.
Metal on metal clamored and the male's footfalls neared. But before anyone could touch her again, the encroaching oblivion washed over the shattered female and mercifully pulled her away.
A/N: Please don't unfollow me for doing that to Aelin *laughs nervously*. Hey! On the upside, I'll be uploading the next chapter either tomorrow or the next day! *sweating* I'll just... I'm just gonna... go... *runs away*. Until next time ~V