A/N: Sorry everyone! I know I said I was going to update around
Wednesday, but I forgot....I know, I know, lame excuse, but its the
truth....again, my deepest apologies for forgetting, especially when it
was just sitting on my computer waiting to be posted....anyway, quick
explanation about this chapter so the lot of you don't get all confused
is simply this: last chapter took place 30 yrs before this one. In this
chapter, Numair's memory takes us back to 30 yrs ago when whatever
happened to Daine took place. Get what I mean? I hope so, because its
no fun for anyone if you're confused.....
(Daine's POV during the Scanran War thirty years previous to last chapter)
"Daine, I know you would do anything for Tortall, but please not this time. Please don't go…." These words ran with a vengeance through Daine's mind, threatening to drive her mad. If anything, she deserved to hear these words with every breath she took, no matter how taunting they now seemed to be. He had been right; without a doubt in her mind, Daine knew that now. Her lover, Numair Salmalin had pleaded those very words to her no more than a week ago. He had begged her to see reason, told her that he had a feeling of sorts that she should not go. When she had laughed at this, and said that it was nothing but his wanting to be with her, he had sworn to her that it was more than that. He had told her that something was not right, and that she should listen to him, if not for her own well being, then for his. To him, something had not felt right about her going, but had she bothered to listen to him or even give his pleading a second thought? No, not until now that is. But now it was far too late for her consideration to matter. If only she had bothered listening sooner, then perhaps she would not have ended up in this horrible state.
She sat now in complete misery hunched in the corner of the tiny cell she had been locked in. she began to reflect back on what had happened that had gotten her here, and she still could not believe it had happened. It had been nothing more than a simple spy mission for the crown. Daine had embarked on many more dangerous missions, so what was so different about this one that she would fail? She still did not know the full answer to that question except for the fact that Numair had been right. He had indeed had a bad feeling about her going, and it had been more than just him wanting to be with her. Gods, if only she could have seen through him and seen that his pleas had not just been on an impulse.
It was about three days into the mission when all had crumbled. She had been in the form of a tawny brown hawk, soaring through the skies over a thick Scanran forest. Daine had tired, for she had been flying without relenting for what felt like days. If she was to successfully get her information to the king, she would have to stop for at least a quick rest for her wings ached from the constant action. Immediately after coming to this conclusion, a small body of water came into view. Now all of Daine's better judgment spoke against her, urging her to stay clear of that small lake. The trees were scarce in that area, making it all too perfect for an ambush. Daine knew from experience that Scanran mages and sentries were stationed throughout all of the forests bordering Tortall, likely hoping to catch a weary spy. But the temptation of fresh, cool water drizzling down her throat was just too great to resist.
Despite all thoughts of possible ambush and capture, Daine had swooped down from the safety of the clouds and had landed in the brush surrounding the clear lake waters. Once landed, the wildmage had quickly dug into the compact leather pouch she had strapped to her leg, and pulled out a change of clothing. In the event that there were Scanrans near by, there was no sense in her meeting them without any clothing.
She had then stepped out of the brush and out onto the treeless lake shores. It was only when she had made it halfway to the sparkling lake waters, about to reach her bounty that Daine realized that danger lurked close by. It had all happened so fast. Daine had been kneeling down on the edge of the shores, leisurely dipping her canteen into the cool lake waters when it had happened. She remembered now hearing a light whizzing sound as a tiny poison tipped dart flew effortlessly through the air and embedded itself deep within the side of her neck. She had hardly had time to shriek from the sudden stinging pain and surprise before more than a dozen ruddy looking men clothed in thick layers of fur leaped from their haven in the nearby brush, dashing towards her with fierce intensity. Daine could remember their vicious shouts of triumph as they pushed and shoved to be the first to reach her. Perhaps the gods had been in her favor in the slightest way that moment, for before they could reach her and Daine could feel their grubby, lust filled hands grope and tug on her body, the poison took its affect and she found herself toppling backward into the water, passed out.
Daine had woken up what she guessed to be two days ago, though she could hardly be sure for her cell held no windows and had no light aside from the torch light that leaked in through the thin bars on the thick oak wood door. Her inner clock though, told her that she had been in this cell for as much as a week.
A sudden cry split the air that instant, breaking Daine all too roughly from her thoughts. Despite her exhaustion, Daine jumped at the heart wrenching sound. Though the owner of the voice was likely to be a rather large distance away, the echoing of the chambers carried the horrific sound to her ears. It chilled the young woman to the bone, causing her to shiver lightly at the tingling sensation that was making its way down her spine. It had almost sounded inhuman. Daine knew though from the deep tone of the cries, that it was the voice of a man, likely a young one from the sound of it. Though she hated to even think of such things, Daine knew that it had to be the sound of ultimate suffering. Her Scanran captors were having their fun with another of their prisoners. Gods, they had to be torturing the poor man mercilessly for him to cry out like that. Again, Daine felt a series of shivers make their way up her spine, causing the hair on the back of her neck to rise in caution.
Unknown to the wildmage as she lay hunched in the corner of her damp cell, her breathing became slowly more rough and strained. Her body trembled violently, each twitch and jerk brought on by intense fear. Daine was beginning to feel her animal instincts fill her mind and body, even her very soul. She felt as if she were being hunted; as if her predator were on the prowl. She sensed personal danger as it approached. It was not until that danger was upon her, that Daine could truly put her finger on it and identify it.
The young woman nearly jumped out of her own skin when the large oak wood door that barred her way of escape from this miserable prison began to shake. There was an instantaneous sound of metal on metal as a key was thrust firmly into the rusted lock and vigorously turned. The hinges, worn from constant use, squeaked with action as the door was thrown roughly open, allowing Daine's enemy entrance.
Upon the intruder's entrance, Daine felt the hair on the back of her neck rise by instinct, her every muscle tense with alertness. She crouched down as low as she could force herself with her back and body pressed firmly against the cold stone wall, her form prepared to spring at any show of violence. She took the time now, to properly look over the intruder, knowing this could very well be her last chance to do so.
Daine raised her head, blue gray eyes glowering menacingly at her predator, as if daring him to make the first move. She could see right away that he was a man, a large one at that. He leaned casually against the door frame, eyes intent on watching her every movement. He was adorned in clothing similar to that of the men who had captured her those days ago in the by the lake. He was cloaked in a gallant looking fur tunic, decorated lavishly with an intricately carved gold clasp. Beneath the cloak were clean silk clothes, and large leather boots, all of the finest quality. He smelled richly of spiced wine and wild game. Daine recognized immediately that this man was a noble of some sort, likely with quite a position. She met his eyes, they were a rich brown in color. She watched as his bearded mouth twitched in what could only be identified as amusement. His eyes sparkled with much the same emotion. It left Daine in a rather shocked state. What could there possibly be to be amused about?
"Veralidaine Sarrasri I presume?" Came the course, sharp edged voice as the man spoke his first words to her. His tone was mocking polite, making the fury in her heart only build up further. Daine continued to stare in his direction. Her stare was cold and rocky and she could tell that it bit at the man's pride. "Have you a voice? Can you not speak, woman?" The man added, his brows furrowing together now as he looked down upon her. The brown orbs in his head no longer sparkled with curiosity and amusement, but radiated with tepid anger.
Then the sound of the man's boots clicking softly against the stone floor filled Daine's ears briefly, followed by a ringing and a sting of pain as the man stiffened as he stood before her and let his hand fly against her cheek. He had been almost calm in this action. "You will speak when spoken to!" It was a command, thrown roughly at her, making her shake from sudden fear. She had not been expecting the man to explode so quickly nor so discreetly. After a moment spent recollecting herself after the blow, Daine once again dared to face the man. She grimaced when she found his face. He was glaring down upon her hunched form in untamed anger.
Daine gasped audibly, shaking with fear as the man suddenly thrust his hand forward, entangling it in her mass of smoky brown curls. He grasped her hair firmly and then yanked her entire body up off of the ground with it using great force. He bent his head down, leaning forward until he was at eye level with the now grimacing Daine as she struggled in pain within his grasp. His face was close enough to her own, that Daine could fell his warm, greasy breath against the skin of her face, making her very skin crawl with disgust. It smelled strongly of wine and whiskey, making her want to shiver away from his hold. "Do you dare defy me, you worthless wench?!" The Scanran roared, the stench of his breath washing over Daine in full force. Building up the bile in his throat at will, the man spat in Daine's face, which was mere inches away. She groaned, unable to wipe the mess off of her face, but desperately wanting to. She wanted to break free of this man's hold and run as far as she possibly could from him. She never wanted to see him or any other Scanran again.
The man roared with sudden laughter, slapping his thigh with his spare hand as he saw the look of pure disgust on the young woman's face. He made no move to wipe the saliva away, or to let her do so. He grinned a full smile at her, showing all of his yellow teeth in amusement. Daine desperately wanted to break away, get out of his hold, but she could not. She was weary from lack of proper food and water, while this man was at full strength. If possible, the man's grin only broadened as he uttered his next statement. "You shall prove to be an excellent play thing for my men and I, wench," He pressed his face closer to hers, rubbing his whiskered cheek against her own. She felt the urge to vomit and draw away, but was not given that choice. Daine now shook with fear, perhaps the greatest fear she had ever felt in her life. She felt completely helpless in the clutches of this man, and knew that she had no way of escaping from this one. "Or perhaps just for myself. A gem like you is hard to come by, and I long for female company to warm my bed." Again the man's laughter filled the thick air as he chuckled mirthlessly, sending shivers of pure terror down Daine's spine.
"You sure are a pretty little thing," The man crooned, reaching out his spare dinner plate sized hand to stroke her back. Daine trembled beneath his touch, flinching and attempting to jerk away. She watched in fear as the pure lust began to fade from the man's eyes to again be replaced with that cruel anger. "Unfamiliar with a man's touch?" he hissed, eyes once again alight with amusement. Daine knew that he greatly enjoyed his vocal torture of her, but that things would only grow worse. "No matter," the man drawled on, his voice slicing the thick air like a double edged sword. "You shall submit to me, wild mage."
With that, Daine knew that for a while, the talking was done. The man closed the short distance between them, pressing his hard, greasy lips over hers, his tongue thrusting forward into her mouth. She gasped in pain, as the kiss went on, for he was not gentle with her. She cried out a second time when his hands flew to her breasts. She immediately tried to squirm out of his hold, only to receive a sharp blow across her face. The man then shoved her roughly away from him, snarling his fierce anger at her refusal to accommodate his advances. Soon, he was upon her once again with a fury of painful punches and kicks, each landing a new place. He roared with untamed anger as he continued to beat her.
After many long, agonizing minutes, the beating ceased. The man's arms then traveled around her waste as he lifted her roughly from the floor and into his cruel arms. "You shall learn to submit to me, wench," his voice filled her ears as he pressed his face down against hers once again, his beard tickling the side of her face. "Even the fiercest of Tortallan warriors have been broken at my hand." He then began to drag her out of the cell and in the direction that not long before, when Daine had been alone and in peace in her cell, she had heard the screams and wails of agony of the tortured soldier. Daine knew now that she was to be next.
'Cause I'm broken when I'm open
And I don't feel like I am strong enough
'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome
And I don't feel right when you're gone away
(Numair's POV approximately 1 week later)
"Numair, we'll find her," Alanna assured her lanky friend, all the while careful to keep a firm hold on the reins. She pulled her buckskin mount, Darkmoon, to walk up closer to Numair's. "Calm your nerves. Worrying up a storm will do Daine no good."
"How can you ask that of me at a time like the present?" Numair questioned, appalled by the lady knight's smooth and seemingly placid tone. Even now, his heart beat with unmatched rhythm within his chest, its sounds of panic echoing repeatedly in his mind. His breathing had remained erratic throughout the entire length of their journey, causing him great difficulty. "In my position, would you be anything less than frightened out of your wits?"
At the mage's comment, Alanna forced a small smile for his sake. He had proved a decent and undoubtedly true point. "I cannot begin to fathom what you're going through right now, Numair, but I just wish that your could calm down, if only a little. I worry for you as well as I do for Daine," Alanna said, eyes shining with a friendly devotion. The gods only knew that she herself was worried to a great extent for her young friend. It had been only a day since news had reached the palace of Daine's abduction and location. Spy reports had concluded that the young wild mage had been taken captive by a Scanran militia not far from the Tortallan border. She was now in their hands, kept prisoner at a Scanran fort not far from the border. The gods only knew what Daine was going through this very moment. Alanna willed herself not to think of such gruesome things, especially when she could do no better than to assume them to be true. The chances though were not in her young friend's favor.
"Was the information received without doubt?" Numair questioned, knowing full well that he had asked Alanna this same question countless times since they set off at sunrise this morning with the troops.
"I've already explained to you Numair, that George received the information from his most trustworthy of spies," Alanna replied, if a little reluctantly. Though she was annoyed by this constant repetition of questions, she would tolerate it for the time being. Her heart went out to her lanky friend, and she could not be cruel to him at a time like this.
"How could he be certain that it was our Daine in that fort?"Numair had asked this question previously as well, but could not help but ask again. It seemed that no intake of information made sense in a time like this. He could not recall a time in his life when he was more frightened. It was amazing that all it took to strike fear into this seemingly fearless black robe was a certain young woman with smoky brown curls. "There are many young women with the riders, perhaps he was mistaken. What if we haven't found her?"
"Numair, you know well that Lucas has seen Daine on countless occasions and would know her without a doubt if he were to see her," Alanna assured once more, hoping that in even the slightest way, she was soothing the mage. She hated to see him in such a state. "Now please, if not for your sake then for Daine's, calm yourself. You're making your mount nervous!" Alanna scolded, seeing Numair's spotted mount taking each step on the tips of his hooves. The horse's eyes clearly shone white with fright, and Alanna knew from experience that his rider caused such anxiety.
Numair sighed, absently reaching out a calloused hand to stroke Spots on the side of his neck. His mind began to drift for the umpteenth time that day, to thoughts of his young lover and what terrible things she must be going through now. How could he have let this happen? Since he first learned of Jon's intention to send Daine on this spy mission, he knew that something was not right. He had not done enough to pursue his feeling though, and now things were a mess to say the least. Gods, what he wanted more than anything was to suddenly wake up from this horrible nightmare and find that Daine had not gone on the mission after all, but was safely curled in his arms, sleeping soundly.
"How could I have let this happen to her?" Numair voiced his thoughts, voice emitting a short whimper. With every breath, he felt as though it ought to be his last, for he was that afraid. "I'm supposed to be there to protect her, to save her. How could I have let her do this?"
"Numair, you and I both know that you could never have said or done anything to stop her…"Alanna tried once more to convince her friend that he was not to blame for there was nothing more that he could have done. "When will you see that your are not to blame for what's happened to Daine? I know you love her, Numair, and what you're feeling is natural, but it is not right. Accept what has happened and do what you can to rectify it. It was not your fault."
"I wish that it were all that easy…"Numair mused, forcing a light chuckle. He just wished for all of this to be over with. When he reached Daine and freed her from those savages, by the great gods he would never allow her to stray from his sight again. "I'm so afraid that we'll never find her….I just do not know what I would do without her. She is what I wake up for every morning and what gets me through every day." At this, tears burned beneath his eye lids, but he forced them back. He did not want to shed any tears, at least not in front of his long time friend, though he knew that she of all people would understand. He had seen her near tears several times since they had first learned of Daine's location.
"We'll find her, Numair," Alanna said firmly, voice as sure as ever. She had never before made a promise to anyone that meant more to her to keep than this one she now made to Numair. She would find Daine and return her to her lover, or she would die trying. Alanna could not stand to see Numair without his love any longer. He was beyond the state of miserable without her, and things could only go farther down hill, she knew. She hated that all she could give him now were words and promises. "I promise you here and now that we will find Daine."
'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome
And I don't feel right when you're gone away
'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome
And I don't feel right when you're gone away
A/N: Well? What did you all think? I hope that wasn't too confusing...I would definately appreciate as much feedback as you can give, because that will help me to wrap this little story up. I'm almost done with it...just 2 more chapters, I'm thinking....I should have an update for you within the next week, probably sooner though....I need to finish up the ending to the next chapter. Also, just so you know, the next chapter will still have everything taking place in the past because the story of what happened to Daine is most definately not done....not sure if you guys will thoroughly like the outcome or not, so we'll just have to wait and see, won't we? Be sure to review, for then I'll be inspired to update sooner!
(Daine's POV during the Scanran War thirty years previous to last chapter)
"Daine, I know you would do anything for Tortall, but please not this time. Please don't go…." These words ran with a vengeance through Daine's mind, threatening to drive her mad. If anything, she deserved to hear these words with every breath she took, no matter how taunting they now seemed to be. He had been right; without a doubt in her mind, Daine knew that now. Her lover, Numair Salmalin had pleaded those very words to her no more than a week ago. He had begged her to see reason, told her that he had a feeling of sorts that she should not go. When she had laughed at this, and said that it was nothing but his wanting to be with her, he had sworn to her that it was more than that. He had told her that something was not right, and that she should listen to him, if not for her own well being, then for his. To him, something had not felt right about her going, but had she bothered to listen to him or even give his pleading a second thought? No, not until now that is. But now it was far too late for her consideration to matter. If only she had bothered listening sooner, then perhaps she would not have ended up in this horrible state.
She sat now in complete misery hunched in the corner of the tiny cell she had been locked in. she began to reflect back on what had happened that had gotten her here, and she still could not believe it had happened. It had been nothing more than a simple spy mission for the crown. Daine had embarked on many more dangerous missions, so what was so different about this one that she would fail? She still did not know the full answer to that question except for the fact that Numair had been right. He had indeed had a bad feeling about her going, and it had been more than just him wanting to be with her. Gods, if only she could have seen through him and seen that his pleas had not just been on an impulse.
It was about three days into the mission when all had crumbled. She had been in the form of a tawny brown hawk, soaring through the skies over a thick Scanran forest. Daine had tired, for she had been flying without relenting for what felt like days. If she was to successfully get her information to the king, she would have to stop for at least a quick rest for her wings ached from the constant action. Immediately after coming to this conclusion, a small body of water came into view. Now all of Daine's better judgment spoke against her, urging her to stay clear of that small lake. The trees were scarce in that area, making it all too perfect for an ambush. Daine knew from experience that Scanran mages and sentries were stationed throughout all of the forests bordering Tortall, likely hoping to catch a weary spy. But the temptation of fresh, cool water drizzling down her throat was just too great to resist.
Despite all thoughts of possible ambush and capture, Daine had swooped down from the safety of the clouds and had landed in the brush surrounding the clear lake waters. Once landed, the wildmage had quickly dug into the compact leather pouch she had strapped to her leg, and pulled out a change of clothing. In the event that there were Scanrans near by, there was no sense in her meeting them without any clothing.
She had then stepped out of the brush and out onto the treeless lake shores. It was only when she had made it halfway to the sparkling lake waters, about to reach her bounty that Daine realized that danger lurked close by. It had all happened so fast. Daine had been kneeling down on the edge of the shores, leisurely dipping her canteen into the cool lake waters when it had happened. She remembered now hearing a light whizzing sound as a tiny poison tipped dart flew effortlessly through the air and embedded itself deep within the side of her neck. She had hardly had time to shriek from the sudden stinging pain and surprise before more than a dozen ruddy looking men clothed in thick layers of fur leaped from their haven in the nearby brush, dashing towards her with fierce intensity. Daine could remember their vicious shouts of triumph as they pushed and shoved to be the first to reach her. Perhaps the gods had been in her favor in the slightest way that moment, for before they could reach her and Daine could feel their grubby, lust filled hands grope and tug on her body, the poison took its affect and she found herself toppling backward into the water, passed out.
Daine had woken up what she guessed to be two days ago, though she could hardly be sure for her cell held no windows and had no light aside from the torch light that leaked in through the thin bars on the thick oak wood door. Her inner clock though, told her that she had been in this cell for as much as a week.
A sudden cry split the air that instant, breaking Daine all too roughly from her thoughts. Despite her exhaustion, Daine jumped at the heart wrenching sound. Though the owner of the voice was likely to be a rather large distance away, the echoing of the chambers carried the horrific sound to her ears. It chilled the young woman to the bone, causing her to shiver lightly at the tingling sensation that was making its way down her spine. It had almost sounded inhuman. Daine knew though from the deep tone of the cries, that it was the voice of a man, likely a young one from the sound of it. Though she hated to even think of such things, Daine knew that it had to be the sound of ultimate suffering. Her Scanran captors were having their fun with another of their prisoners. Gods, they had to be torturing the poor man mercilessly for him to cry out like that. Again, Daine felt a series of shivers make their way up her spine, causing the hair on the back of her neck to rise in caution.
Unknown to the wildmage as she lay hunched in the corner of her damp cell, her breathing became slowly more rough and strained. Her body trembled violently, each twitch and jerk brought on by intense fear. Daine was beginning to feel her animal instincts fill her mind and body, even her very soul. She felt as if she were being hunted; as if her predator were on the prowl. She sensed personal danger as it approached. It was not until that danger was upon her, that Daine could truly put her finger on it and identify it.
The young woman nearly jumped out of her own skin when the large oak wood door that barred her way of escape from this miserable prison began to shake. There was an instantaneous sound of metal on metal as a key was thrust firmly into the rusted lock and vigorously turned. The hinges, worn from constant use, squeaked with action as the door was thrown roughly open, allowing Daine's enemy entrance.
Upon the intruder's entrance, Daine felt the hair on the back of her neck rise by instinct, her every muscle tense with alertness. She crouched down as low as she could force herself with her back and body pressed firmly against the cold stone wall, her form prepared to spring at any show of violence. She took the time now, to properly look over the intruder, knowing this could very well be her last chance to do so.
Daine raised her head, blue gray eyes glowering menacingly at her predator, as if daring him to make the first move. She could see right away that he was a man, a large one at that. He leaned casually against the door frame, eyes intent on watching her every movement. He was adorned in clothing similar to that of the men who had captured her those days ago in the by the lake. He was cloaked in a gallant looking fur tunic, decorated lavishly with an intricately carved gold clasp. Beneath the cloak were clean silk clothes, and large leather boots, all of the finest quality. He smelled richly of spiced wine and wild game. Daine recognized immediately that this man was a noble of some sort, likely with quite a position. She met his eyes, they were a rich brown in color. She watched as his bearded mouth twitched in what could only be identified as amusement. His eyes sparkled with much the same emotion. It left Daine in a rather shocked state. What could there possibly be to be amused about?
"Veralidaine Sarrasri I presume?" Came the course, sharp edged voice as the man spoke his first words to her. His tone was mocking polite, making the fury in her heart only build up further. Daine continued to stare in his direction. Her stare was cold and rocky and she could tell that it bit at the man's pride. "Have you a voice? Can you not speak, woman?" The man added, his brows furrowing together now as he looked down upon her. The brown orbs in his head no longer sparkled with curiosity and amusement, but radiated with tepid anger.
Then the sound of the man's boots clicking softly against the stone floor filled Daine's ears briefly, followed by a ringing and a sting of pain as the man stiffened as he stood before her and let his hand fly against her cheek. He had been almost calm in this action. "You will speak when spoken to!" It was a command, thrown roughly at her, making her shake from sudden fear. She had not been expecting the man to explode so quickly nor so discreetly. After a moment spent recollecting herself after the blow, Daine once again dared to face the man. She grimaced when she found his face. He was glaring down upon her hunched form in untamed anger.
Daine gasped audibly, shaking with fear as the man suddenly thrust his hand forward, entangling it in her mass of smoky brown curls. He grasped her hair firmly and then yanked her entire body up off of the ground with it using great force. He bent his head down, leaning forward until he was at eye level with the now grimacing Daine as she struggled in pain within his grasp. His face was close enough to her own, that Daine could fell his warm, greasy breath against the skin of her face, making her very skin crawl with disgust. It smelled strongly of wine and whiskey, making her want to shiver away from his hold. "Do you dare defy me, you worthless wench?!" The Scanran roared, the stench of his breath washing over Daine in full force. Building up the bile in his throat at will, the man spat in Daine's face, which was mere inches away. She groaned, unable to wipe the mess off of her face, but desperately wanting to. She wanted to break free of this man's hold and run as far as she possibly could from him. She never wanted to see him or any other Scanran again.
The man roared with sudden laughter, slapping his thigh with his spare hand as he saw the look of pure disgust on the young woman's face. He made no move to wipe the saliva away, or to let her do so. He grinned a full smile at her, showing all of his yellow teeth in amusement. Daine desperately wanted to break away, get out of his hold, but she could not. She was weary from lack of proper food and water, while this man was at full strength. If possible, the man's grin only broadened as he uttered his next statement. "You shall prove to be an excellent play thing for my men and I, wench," He pressed his face closer to hers, rubbing his whiskered cheek against her own. She felt the urge to vomit and draw away, but was not given that choice. Daine now shook with fear, perhaps the greatest fear she had ever felt in her life. She felt completely helpless in the clutches of this man, and knew that she had no way of escaping from this one. "Or perhaps just for myself. A gem like you is hard to come by, and I long for female company to warm my bed." Again the man's laughter filled the thick air as he chuckled mirthlessly, sending shivers of pure terror down Daine's spine.
"You sure are a pretty little thing," The man crooned, reaching out his spare dinner plate sized hand to stroke her back. Daine trembled beneath his touch, flinching and attempting to jerk away. She watched in fear as the pure lust began to fade from the man's eyes to again be replaced with that cruel anger. "Unfamiliar with a man's touch?" he hissed, eyes once again alight with amusement. Daine knew that he greatly enjoyed his vocal torture of her, but that things would only grow worse. "No matter," the man drawled on, his voice slicing the thick air like a double edged sword. "You shall submit to me, wild mage."
With that, Daine knew that for a while, the talking was done. The man closed the short distance between them, pressing his hard, greasy lips over hers, his tongue thrusting forward into her mouth. She gasped in pain, as the kiss went on, for he was not gentle with her. She cried out a second time when his hands flew to her breasts. She immediately tried to squirm out of his hold, only to receive a sharp blow across her face. The man then shoved her roughly away from him, snarling his fierce anger at her refusal to accommodate his advances. Soon, he was upon her once again with a fury of painful punches and kicks, each landing a new place. He roared with untamed anger as he continued to beat her.
After many long, agonizing minutes, the beating ceased. The man's arms then traveled around her waste as he lifted her roughly from the floor and into his cruel arms. "You shall learn to submit to me, wench," his voice filled her ears as he pressed his face down against hers once again, his beard tickling the side of her face. "Even the fiercest of Tortallan warriors have been broken at my hand." He then began to drag her out of the cell and in the direction that not long before, when Daine had been alone and in peace in her cell, she had heard the screams and wails of agony of the tortured soldier. Daine knew now that she was to be next.
'Cause I'm broken when I'm open
And I don't feel like I am strong enough
'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome
And I don't feel right when you're gone away
(Numair's POV approximately 1 week later)
"Numair, we'll find her," Alanna assured her lanky friend, all the while careful to keep a firm hold on the reins. She pulled her buckskin mount, Darkmoon, to walk up closer to Numair's. "Calm your nerves. Worrying up a storm will do Daine no good."
"How can you ask that of me at a time like the present?" Numair questioned, appalled by the lady knight's smooth and seemingly placid tone. Even now, his heart beat with unmatched rhythm within his chest, its sounds of panic echoing repeatedly in his mind. His breathing had remained erratic throughout the entire length of their journey, causing him great difficulty. "In my position, would you be anything less than frightened out of your wits?"
At the mage's comment, Alanna forced a small smile for his sake. He had proved a decent and undoubtedly true point. "I cannot begin to fathom what you're going through right now, Numair, but I just wish that your could calm down, if only a little. I worry for you as well as I do for Daine," Alanna said, eyes shining with a friendly devotion. The gods only knew that she herself was worried to a great extent for her young friend. It had been only a day since news had reached the palace of Daine's abduction and location. Spy reports had concluded that the young wild mage had been taken captive by a Scanran militia not far from the Tortallan border. She was now in their hands, kept prisoner at a Scanran fort not far from the border. The gods only knew what Daine was going through this very moment. Alanna willed herself not to think of such gruesome things, especially when she could do no better than to assume them to be true. The chances though were not in her young friend's favor.
"Was the information received without doubt?" Numair questioned, knowing full well that he had asked Alanna this same question countless times since they set off at sunrise this morning with the troops.
"I've already explained to you Numair, that George received the information from his most trustworthy of spies," Alanna replied, if a little reluctantly. Though she was annoyed by this constant repetition of questions, she would tolerate it for the time being. Her heart went out to her lanky friend, and she could not be cruel to him at a time like this.
"How could he be certain that it was our Daine in that fort?"Numair had asked this question previously as well, but could not help but ask again. It seemed that no intake of information made sense in a time like this. He could not recall a time in his life when he was more frightened. It was amazing that all it took to strike fear into this seemingly fearless black robe was a certain young woman with smoky brown curls. "There are many young women with the riders, perhaps he was mistaken. What if we haven't found her?"
"Numair, you know well that Lucas has seen Daine on countless occasions and would know her without a doubt if he were to see her," Alanna assured once more, hoping that in even the slightest way, she was soothing the mage. She hated to see him in such a state. "Now please, if not for your sake then for Daine's, calm yourself. You're making your mount nervous!" Alanna scolded, seeing Numair's spotted mount taking each step on the tips of his hooves. The horse's eyes clearly shone white with fright, and Alanna knew from experience that his rider caused such anxiety.
Numair sighed, absently reaching out a calloused hand to stroke Spots on the side of his neck. His mind began to drift for the umpteenth time that day, to thoughts of his young lover and what terrible things she must be going through now. How could he have let this happen? Since he first learned of Jon's intention to send Daine on this spy mission, he knew that something was not right. He had not done enough to pursue his feeling though, and now things were a mess to say the least. Gods, what he wanted more than anything was to suddenly wake up from this horrible nightmare and find that Daine had not gone on the mission after all, but was safely curled in his arms, sleeping soundly.
"How could I have let this happen to her?" Numair voiced his thoughts, voice emitting a short whimper. With every breath, he felt as though it ought to be his last, for he was that afraid. "I'm supposed to be there to protect her, to save her. How could I have let her do this?"
"Numair, you and I both know that you could never have said or done anything to stop her…"Alanna tried once more to convince her friend that he was not to blame for there was nothing more that he could have done. "When will you see that your are not to blame for what's happened to Daine? I know you love her, Numair, and what you're feeling is natural, but it is not right. Accept what has happened and do what you can to rectify it. It was not your fault."
"I wish that it were all that easy…"Numair mused, forcing a light chuckle. He just wished for all of this to be over with. When he reached Daine and freed her from those savages, by the great gods he would never allow her to stray from his sight again. "I'm so afraid that we'll never find her….I just do not know what I would do without her. She is what I wake up for every morning and what gets me through every day." At this, tears burned beneath his eye lids, but he forced them back. He did not want to shed any tears, at least not in front of his long time friend, though he knew that she of all people would understand. He had seen her near tears several times since they had first learned of Daine's location.
"We'll find her, Numair," Alanna said firmly, voice as sure as ever. She had never before made a promise to anyone that meant more to her to keep than this one she now made to Numair. She would find Daine and return her to her lover, or she would die trying. Alanna could not stand to see Numair without his love any longer. He was beyond the state of miserable without her, and things could only go farther down hill, she knew. She hated that all she could give him now were words and promises. "I promise you here and now that we will find Daine."
'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome
And I don't feel right when you're gone away
'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome
And I don't feel right when you're gone away
A/N: Well? What did you all think? I hope that wasn't too confusing...I would definately appreciate as much feedback as you can give, because that will help me to wrap this little story up. I'm almost done with it...just 2 more chapters, I'm thinking....I should have an update for you within the next week, probably sooner though....I need to finish up the ending to the next chapter. Also, just so you know, the next chapter will still have everything taking place in the past because the story of what happened to Daine is most definately not done....not sure if you guys will thoroughly like the outcome or not, so we'll just have to wait and see, won't we? Be sure to review, for then I'll be inspired to update sooner!