A Slightly Different Turn: Chapter Three

Imprisonment

A/N: Sorry it's been so long! And thanks for all of your super reviews.

Just to warn you, this is a depressing chapter.

Mel opened her eyes, which were filmed with crusty junk, and rubbed them fiercely. She sat up slowly, and groaned, her back cracking. Looking around, she remembered where she was: a dark, dank cell. Suddenly, the door creaked, and she started. The door made a horrible scratching noise as it went across the floor, and Mel winced. Someone put down a bowl of something and the door closed once again.

Mel sighed, and dragged herself over to the bowl. After more than a week in this horrible, wretched place, Mel could hardly move. There was nothing to do, and nowhere to walk to get the awful soreness out of her back and shoulders – the cell was hardly four paces across either way.

There was no spoon for the bowl. There never was, and Mel hated to eat like a barbarian. 'There I go again. A few years ago, eating with my fingers was the most fun thing to do. Now it's just barbaric, savage.' She let out a breath of air, and ate, trying not to taste the awful food.

She supposed that she should try to escape; jumping the person who set out her food was one option, but she didn't really have the strength. And besides, where would she go? All she could hope for was that Flauvic would decide to talk to her again. She wondered fleetingly what he was doing. Did he even remember her? And what about Shevraeth? They had had so little time together, and he was just a statue, basically. She hadn't even seen him since the previous week when she had had that awful dinner with Flauvic.

Once again, the door scraped open, causing Mel to look up and frown. She had just gotten her food, and no one else ever came. Ever.

It was Shevraeth.

He was frowning slightly, although she couldn't imagine why. She supposed it had something to do with why he was here. Mel looked up questioningly, waiting for Shevraeth to say something. Finally, he did.

"I'm to take you to the chamber," he said simply. Mel began to ask a question, but was stalled by a hand. "No questions, miss, just follow me." At those words, Mel's heart sank. Did he remember who she was? Surely Flauvic's spell was not all that powerful. After all, wasn't love more powerful than magic. 'That must mean he doesn't love me' thought Mel. 'I bet he never did.'

She followed him through an endless maze of corridors and smiled slightly to herself when she thought of the absurdity of it all. Then she shook her head. 'Leave it to me to find either offense or humor in something that has none.'

She felt her anger returning moments later, however, when Shevraeth led her into a chamber that looked much like one of the old torture chambers she had read about on her excursions to the great palace library. She hadn't realized that they were still in use.

Turning to Shevraeth, she exclaimed, "You're going to torture me? Why? I don't have any information you don't already have!" She felt tears prickling at her eyes. 'Why is it?' she thought to herself, 'that I wasn't scared for a single moment when I was running around the country being chased by the king, or I faced him in battle? All I felt then was anger. Now I feel terror. Why?'

Her thoughts were interrupted by an evil cackle. She looked up a balcony and saw the agonizingly handsome face of Flauvic looking down on her with a malevolent smile.

"Since you won't listen to me, my dear," he said, slime dripping from his voice, "I will just force you to love me. And do you know how I will do that?" he asked.

Mel shook her head, trembling slightly, "N-no."

"No?" he asked, "Well, you will just have to find out, won't you?" Mel groaned. Of course – he could never give a straight out answer. Flauvic swept around, his cloak adding an air of superiority to his walk, and came down to the torture chamber. As of yet, Mel had forced herself not to look at the objects of torture in the room, but did so now. It was a dark, dirty place, and metal shackles were nailed to the wall, rust practically flaking off of them. She forced herself not to shudder, hardly realizing that her vice-like grip on Shevraeth had caused her knuckles to go white, and him to wince. Flauvic's eyes flicked to Mel's hand.

"Ah," he said simply. Mel dropped her hand from Shevraeth's arm.

"Why are you doing this?" Mel said, her anger rising once again to shadow the fear. "Why must you take so much pleasure in hurting people?" Flauvic smiled once again.

"But you are mistaken my dear," he said, smirking as he saw Mel's questioning expression, "I won't be hurting you. He will." Mel turned to Shevraeth, shocked. Once again, no expression was reflected in his face, but it seemed like his eyes were in turmoil, if that was possible. "Maybe it's sort of like – a – a doorway. Into his mind. Maybe that's the clue.' Her thoughts were interrupted again by Flauvic, who had moved towards her. She backed away, refusing to let him touch her.

"You know, Meliara, this will only make it worse for you," Flauvic said. He snapped his fingers, "Shevraeth." Mel thought she saw him hesitate for a fraction of a moment, but soon enough, he was walking forward too. She realized too late that she had been backed in a corner, and she closed her eyes, waiting till she could feel the breath of Flauvic. She struck then. Her foot kicked up and her knee went into his groin. He keeled over, groaning, but she couldn't get away before he grabbed at her legs.

"Shevraeth!" gasped Flauvic. "Get her!" He obliged, and soon Mel felt her head buried in a warm, strong chest. She breathed in one deep breath of his scent, then remembered that he was trying to capture her, and she struggled. Unfortunately, although lean, he was exceptionally strong, and she found she couldn't move.

Mel was dragged over to some iron shackles, and pinned in. Once again, she looked into Shevraeth's eyes as he shackled her in, and although she found no signs of remorse on the rest of his face, his eyes looked pained. She willed him to hear her and she called his name silently in his mind.

She nearly fainted when she heard someone responding.

Who-who is this? a low, shaky voice asked in her head.

I-it's Mel. Danric? Is that you? What's happening?

Oh Mel. I'm so sorry. I don't want to do this. You know I don't. I love you.

Mel looked up suddenly. You do?

Yes. But, now isn't the time to talk about this. I'm going to hurt you, but you have to know that it's not me. He's controlling me using magic. Please. Please, you know I would never hurt you! Mel looked Shevraeth in the eyes.

I know. But please, the suspense is killing me. Just get it over with. She cut the connection with Danric, feeling it would just be too painful.

Flauvic handed Shevraeth a poker that he had obviously been heating in a fire that was burning on the opposite time of the chamber. The heat didn't reach the other side of the room though, because Mel shivered as the poker came towards her. The red thing consumed her vision, seeming to grow larger and larger, until it touched her and she screamed.

She knew no more.

A/N: Eeeesh. That was hard to write. Anyway, review with comments, suggestions, questions, jokes, frogs, pine needles. Anything!

-Crystaltambaia