WARNING: Welcome to the darkest chapter to date. It includes drug abuse, torture, heavily implied sexual abuse, and is just overall, rough.
If you are a sadist, rejoice. This is super angsty.
If you are uncomfortable with reading depictions of torture no matter how brief, please don't hesitate in messaging me and I'll provide you with a brief on this chapter along with the portions that happen outside of the roughness.
Being that I'm in school again I ask only that you give me 24 hours to respond.
Again, this may be triggering for some folks, so tread with caution.
Ilosovic laid in Alice's bed without so much as a stitch of clothing on him, only his wife's naked form covered him as the fingers of his right hand weaved through her blond curls and waves, the left hand comfortably positioned behind his head as he stared at the ceiling of their chambers. His eye was closed as he took comfort basking in the sunlight that filtered into the room as waves lapped against the cliffs outside. But even with Alice's weight upon him and the sun hitting his skin he felt as cold as stone.
"This isn't real," Ilosovic said out loud causing Alice to look up at him with those darling brown eyes of hers that ignited into brilliant golden rays when in sunlight. He wanted it to be real, so many times he had fallen for this dream contrivances. The dreams didn't always take place in this room. Sometimes they would be in the garden, or sparing in the yard. On a few occasions, he dreamt of a quaint cottage in the open fields where he and Alice would watch a boy and a girl chase each other. He liked to believe that these children were his own, but it mattered little when he remembered that this was only a figment of his imagination blended with the addicting and outlawed muiriled potion.
Not all the dreams caused by the elixir were pleasant either. The muiriled potion would sometimes cause nightmares. Of Alice dying in the battle of Mekhane, of Tarrant ravaging her. Some nightmares Mirana was ravaging him, though he knew that some of those were more than just a dream. The dream that he was currently trapped within was however his favorite. For a brief little while, he could enjoy the pleasure of Alice, even produce pleasure for the Almost Alice in bed. She would tell him that she loved him, and he would believe it for a bit- but his Alice never said those words to him, but he could settle for the fantasy.
Regardless of how the dream would start, nightmare or not, they would all end the same. With the sound of water encroaching upon him.
"It's as real as you want it to be, Ilosovic," came Almost Alice's voice as she sat up and cupped his face, the sound of the waves below growing louder outside of the room. "We could stay like this for one forever at a time." She whispered to him and for a brief moment, Ilosovic wondered if Alice ever dreamt of him.
Ilosovic inhaled deeply, knowing that air would become more precious to him than the comfort of this deep, drug-induced sleep. His left hand emerged from behind his head and it snaked up to his wife's hip, his right hand taking hold of the hand that was resting on his cheek. Water began filling the room that they were in, but neither of them paid mind to the flood. Almost Alice never reacted to the water, and he had grown used to the play.
"I have to go," Ilosovic murmured, as he rolled his thumb over her hip bone. "I miss you, Alice. Gods, I miss you so much," he rasped out as he sat up as the water level reached the top of the bed. Ilosovic pressed his lips to the illusion before him and she responded in kind. He always opted to end these dreams by her lips if the option was presented. If he was going to drown then he would drown in Alice's perfect embrace.
…
Do you know yet…
How bad it can get?
Can you wake my head?
...
Ilosovic's restrained body rattled against the restraints that bound him to a marble slab as a man clad in a white executioner's hood poured a stream of water over his cloth-covered face. The man was drowning and he could do nothing about it, his only option was to wait for the torture to end. Be it by the will of his attacker or for his own expiration.
"Enough," Mirana ordered from the corner of the room. "You may leave us, but don't be late for your shift tomorrow-" the queen said pointedly. The torturer gave a bow and exited the room. Once alone with her prisoner, The White Queen approached the fallen Black King and surveyed his state, a hand running over his white peasant shirt as the other removed the wet cloth that was draped over his face.
Ilosovic had lost whatever weight his body could afford to lose. His face alone could tell witnesses that he had been deprived of nutrition. His cheekbones had always been pronounced on his face, but the features were closer to gaunt than noble.
"White suits you well, Stayne. It's a shame you couldn't accept the color when I first offered it to you," Mirana mocked as her eyes rested over his left hand, admiring the empty space. She had removed the ring finger herself, it took a few whacks of a hammer on a chisel and spouted a little more blood than she would have liked but the area had healed rather nicely.
Ilosovic still sputtered water from his mouth and desperately sought to replenish the air to his lungs. Unable to respond to Miran's taunts as her hand moved back up to his chest as she walked around the marble table to stand over Ilosovic's face, the hand that had trailed along his body was now taking a fistful of his slick hair. "I'm sorry about not visiting you more often, I do hope our mutual friend has been taking care of you."
Ilosovic longed to sleep again. Fatigued from the constant supply of muiriled in his system, the silver chain around his throat that continuously rubbed his skin raw, the blinding white stone prison, illuminated by mirrors refracting light at all hours and most of all the wakeup calls he was given, awakening to the sensation, no, the reality of being drowned. Yes, he longed to sleep, though what he truly wanted was an end. If only Death would pay him a visit, but Mirana had taken special care to not let him go. He was the exception to Mirana's vow- but she argued that it wasn't cheating if everyone believed him to be dead.
"You will never guess who I saw this morning," Mirana whispered into his ear as her fingers traced along the scars on his face, the botched area exposed for the only two visitors he would ever receive. "But go on, guess," the woman insisted as kissed his temple.
Swallowing, Ilosovic closed his eye not wanting to play her games anymore. Right or wrong he would suffer a consequence of some form. A slap, a kiss, another round of water to drown from, a fucking if she was in the mood. He would resist that last one if he could, but Mirana managed to cook up some potion that made it difficult to resist.
"Time?" Ilosovic asked softly as Mirana played with his wet locks of hair. She hated how little Ilosovic spoke these days, he didn't even have the energy to beg. It was one of the reasons she stopped visiting him every night. She had grown bored of his quiet compliance, but now she had a reason to toy with him again.
"It was not. Would you like to try again?"
Ilosovic was exhausted. If it was Tarrant visiting then maybe his days were finally numbered. She had joked a few times of letting the Mad Hatter in on her secret to see how he would react, but if she was serious about letting him in, Ilosovic welcomed the end.
"It's the Hightopp," Ilosovic's blue-stained lips mumbled but Mirana sighed with disappointment and released his hair to pick up the silver pail at her feet and walked to the faucet that was installed in the room.
"I knew you wouldn't get it."
Alice drew the iron poker back up from where she had set it and motioned to attack Time, but was restrained by Tarrant and Chess before she could land a blow.
"This is all your fault!" Alice shouted enraged, struggling against the Hatter's hold more than the feline's grasp. "If you really hold such influence over the land then you would have seen all of this coming! You could stop this still!"
Time watched the woman with an ounce of pity for her and a gallon of it for himself.
"As I said before, Alice, my powers are not what they once were. I can only influence those I rule over and hope they continue on the path I set. By lying about Ilosovic for so long, Mirana has all but sapped any real power I have," Time responded as he stood up from the side table and placed his hands upon his temples and made small circles upon them. "It is rather peculiar that I haven't noticed Ilosovic's mind wandering… Not sure how Mirana got around that. Ugh, what a headache you queens are," Time muttered as Tarrant and Chess released Alice who was no longer fighting against their hold.
"How can we rescue him?" Alice asked and Tarrant let out a peal of long and hysterical laughter.
"Oh, sorry," Tarrant said while doubled over. "But I cannae seem to tell what part of the joke is funnier. The bit of including everyone else, or the idea of recusing that bloody sniveling git in the first place," spat the Hatter. Alice's gaze went to Chessur who looked more understanding of the situation, but the cat did not offer a rebuttal to Tarrant's argument. Suddenly, even surrounded by the familiar and once-friendly faces, Alice felt as alone as she had been in England.
Stepping away from the group, Alice considered her options. There was no way she could enter Marmoreal and rescue Stayne on her own. She had barely managed to escape the castle on his own. She looked back to the group and then focused on Time.
"I wish I had the Oraculum," Alice said with a raised hand and the impossible scroll landed in her hand. Marching back to the group she shoved the scroll into Tarrant's chest and the two exchanged heated glares.
"You want to know about the Frabjous day? Take a look for yourself Tarrant and then feel free to look at every other day you can't remember. I may not be your friend anymore, but you are not my enemy," Alice said before turning on her heel and approached Time. "I need some supplies if I am to face this alone. What can you provide?"
Now in a position of power with Alice, Time felt far more confident to tell her off.
"What would I receive from this transaction?" Time asked as the poker he had forgotten about prodded at his gut. "Ah, yes of course, what a brute you've become," Time muttered and gave a nod. "Very well, follow me. Let's see what we can find…"
As Time led the way, Alice cast a final glance over her shoulder at Tarrant who held the scroll to his chest and stared back at her.
...
Time opened a door and waved Alice in, regretting the decision to help her but the way he saw it things wouldn't go his way until one of the queens came out victorious. He was rather tired of being on the losing side of this dragged out chess game.
"Go on, don't be shy, help yourself," Time said, not sounding pleased about the offer and Alice could see why as she entered the room.
The room put the Deces armory to shame. Weapons and shields were mounted upon rows of racks and upon the walls, suits of armor placed upon busts throughout the room reflection styles of various cultures, not just those that resembled that of western style.
Alice was drawn to a set of armor that looked like it would fit perfectly into a Chinese tapestry. Alice touched the layered armor, admiring the colorful protective piece but she shook her head.
"This isn't quite what I had in mind," Alice sighed looking back to Time's face which was flustered at the disapproval.
"What are you expecting? A Jabberwocky?" Time shouted. Alice frowned at the statement and shook her head as she ran her fingers over a thin blade.
"I can't face the entire White Kingdom by myself, Time," Alice said as she picked up a sword with a gold hilt. "I need to be smarter, not stronger."
"Well I fail to see how you plan on breaking your husband out without fighting your way through," Time said as he folded his arms over his chest and lifted his chin as Alice continued to make her rounds around the room. Alice paused again as she saw a pin that looked like it would be too small for even MallymKun to hold and then the idea struck her.
"I don't have to fight my way in, I only need to sneak in and out," Alice said with a smile. "Do you have any pishsalver?" Time chuckled gently at the question, now seeing where Alice was going with this.
"Alas, I do not. However, I know how to make it."
Stayne rolled to his side once the straps that held him to the slanted slab of marble were undone. He wretched what water he could from his system while simultaneously gasping for air. Mirana smiled as she neared the man and bent at the waist to be at his eye level but he never looked her in the eye. He had lost the defiance in him long ago.
The White Queen's dark eyes surveyed the man with a sense of adoration. Iracebeth had her favorites change throughout her reign, but for Mirana, Ilosovic was the only one who could receive such exclusive attention. One of her hands cupped the man's miserable face, forcibly squeezing on his jaw.
"Would you like to know who it was that I saw this morning?" Mirana asked knowing that the man was not the least bit interested, he had no interest in the outside world these days and never asked where people were. But if he knew she was here, what would he do? That was what she wanted to know. Removing a small vial from her pocket, inside of it was the muiriled potion that both brought Ilosovic solace and suffering. "If you ask, and ask nicely, I'll leave you to your dreams," Mirana cooed.
Stayne's eye was on the bottle the moment she pulled it out. Licking his lips, he struggled to find the words necessary for the prize before him. When he had first entered this prison of sorts, the sweet substance had to be forced down his throat with the aid of Mirana's masked man, who Stayne knew to be Iracebeth's executioner, but the cowl remained to ensure that Mirana's face would be the only one he'd ever see. As the days led on, Stayne began to take the potion knowing it was a gamble between experiencing bliss or further torture, but eventually, he had fallen down the black hole of addiction.
"Please, my queen," Ilosovic whispered. "Tell me who you saw today."
Mirana smiled triumphantly at the question but rather than handing the glass bottle to Ilosovic she released her fingers and let the bottle drop to the floor. The vial shattered into a thousand pieces once it connected to the floor, the violent blue nectar pooling beneath them.
Without hesitation, Ilosovic slid from the marble altar and down to the floor to absorb the muiriled before the pores of the floor did. He pressed his lips to the cold tile, sucking up the liquid and glass, showing no signs of pain as the shards lacerated the inside of his mouth. When none of the liquid was left on the ground, Mirana gently nudged the Knave onto his back with her foot.
"You should have seen the look on her face when I gave her your finger," Mirana said as she looked over her prisoner's face. She was not fond of the color red for obvious reasons, but the blood on Stayne's thin lips stirred something wicked within her. "I half expected her to break just like that vial, but she has always been a little thick in the head, hasn't she?"
Ilosovic felt himself nearing the precipice of the drug-induced sleep, but Mirana insisted on keeping him awake with words that led him nowhere. He did not wish to entertain the woman any more than he already had, but he would have to play the game if he wished to rest.
"I may be mad, my queen," Ilosovic mumbled as he began to grind the remaining bits of glass with his molars, reducing them to a fine powder. "But you aren't making any sense."
Mirana smiled down at Ilosovic as she pulled out another vial of the blue liquid and set it upon the white altar. Ilosovic remained still with his eye on the vial, waiting for the order that would allow him to take the drug.
"Alice," the White Queen stated, drawing Ilosovic's eye off of the vial and to her dark gaze. Mirana couldn't recall how long it had been since he had the capacity to look her in the eye, but Mirana relished the look of pain that he gifted her with.
"She was here, not long after the sun greeted the day. She looks healthy, maybe not happy, but she looks like she has been doing very well without you. She had nearly killed me but thankfully for the two of us she did not succeed," Mirana commented as she took out another vial but Ilosovic's eye did not leave her face. "To think that you two were underneath the same roof at once without knowing it! It was such a treat, but I can only imagine how nice it will be to have her in the same room as you," Mirana said, already imagining the games she could play with both of them when she felt a hand clutch the hem of her gown.
Ilosovic's left hand held the priceless white fabric with all the strength he could muster.
"Spare her…" the man pleaded. "I will be yours if you spare her." The pledge made Mirana smile as she lowered herself to the floor. Had it not been for the broken glass she may have even joined the Black King on the ground but she leaned in close and took hold of the chain that connected Stayne to a ring planted in the floor.
"Oh, that is very sweet Ilosovic," Mirana whispered as she pet his still damp hair. "But you are already mine," the woman said with sweetness in her voice but only violence in mind. Mirana pulled the man by the chain and forced a brief kiss before shoving him back down.
Mirana rose to her full height again, wiping his blood off of her lips with a stroke of her thumb. Feeling generous given the amusement she received, the queen placed two more vials onto the marble slab. Four vials of murilied potion in total. It was far more than his usual dosage but she also didn't want to run the risk of him considering the option of sobering up now that Alice was around.
"Sweet dreams, Ilosovic," Mirana called as she left the secret prison.
For those who made it through, I wish I could say that this would be the end of the bad times express, but it's not. Trauma takes YEARS to recover from, if at all.
Now I don't intend on dragging this out for years (knock on wood) but I do promise that Ilosovic will make a recovery. It's going to be rough but like any injury or traumatic experience, patience is required.
And obviously Alice has to save him first.
Other notes: The lines between Stayne's dreams and his torture are lyrics from the song Gravity by Black Lab.
Muiriled is Delirium backwards. In Lewis Carrol's Through the Looking-Glass, there were a few words reversed on the wall, I assume to give the land Alice traveled to an 'otherly' appeal. It's a nod to his work though I don't think Carrol would approve of this spin-off fiction.
