Part 8

Hands grip Gale from every angle. The night was dark and the heavy downpour isn't helping. He couldn't see a thing. Anxiety was quickly rising in his chest, making it impossibly tight. It was like air was on tab and he has reached the maximum amount he could without repayment. His lungs burned with vengeance, cursing him greatly for denying it its precious air. His heart was thudding in his chest in a quick, harsh thump, thump, thump that was like a hammer against his ribs. His legs are constantly being twisted and thrown over one another clumsily like he was a toddler learning how to walk.

James and Arthur are, by no means, kind and gentle. They tug and rip and grab at Gale harshly, muttering obscurities under their breath every time he would fall to his knees again. Each time his knees would crack against the uneven, harshly obliterated pavement and a stinging pain would shoot up his entire body starting at his knees and working its way up. It would leave him breathless and gasping in pain and yet they continually pull him up by his collar and scream – spittle flying – in his face about how they have to move and how they don't have time for his petty attempts at stalling.

"Your little speech back there, about hope…" Arthur, who was mere centimeters from Gale's nose, couldn't hold in his laughter any longer. It was an odd, little weird man's laughter. Almost a little too high pitched and nasally to fit the body it belonged too, "It was such an empowering speech, very well said. Did your pathetic little daddy teach you that?"

Anger was rising like wildfire in his Gale's chest. So fast that it erupting into a tsunami that resonated in his fist. His knuckles crunch against Arthur's right cheekbone, his left hand stinging violently but he didn't dwell on it, he embraced it. It made him feel something other than anxiety and fright. And Arthur's expression is icing on the cake. The shock that overtook his facial expression and the red blossoming on his cheek like the sun bursting over the horizon made the owner stall, giving Gale precious seconds to try to escape. The only flaw in his plan: James.

James didn't wait or give Gale the chance to escape. Hell no, that definitely wasn't in the plans. Just out of the corner of his eye, he barely registers James' arms making a sweeping arch with something light brown in his hands. Before he could register the soaked wood, it's cracking down against the crown of his head. He screams, He screams so loud he's sure Madge can hear him wherever she might be. The attack hit him so hard his eyes water and sting from the dryness all the ash surrounding them has caused. His arms and legs go to jelly and give out, causing him to crumble like a house on fire. His already shortness of breath becomes absolutely no breath. His chest and mind are screaming at him to just suck in a large gust of air but all he can do is hyperventilate excessively. Damn it!

Even to him his breathing is loud and obnoxious. He couldn't see him, but he knows Arthur is looming over him menacingly. Gale tries several times to get up but his arms are failing him in his greatest time of need. Every lesson Finnick taught him, every maneuver and trick Finnick stressed at him for years was just gone, gone like a light in the darkness. He was powerless here on the cold, hard ground. He was nothing but the Prince that failed, the Prince that couldn't do anything but harm his people, the Prince that was worthless and couldn't even defend himself.

Arthur's lips were hot on his ear, growling out: "You worthless piece of shit! You think you can defeat me? Give up the hope you hold in your heart. It will bring you nothing but failure!" he growls out.

"Arthur!" James screams, "We don't have time for this! We need to get our little Prince to the President."

Arthur laughs wickedly with that girly laugh of his that drives Gale crazy. "That's right, the President is waiting for you." he singsongs into Gale's ear, "But just for good measure, James, hand me the rope!" the rope is clearly old and fraying, it scratches against his wrist harshly, drawling blood immediately, "We don't want to keep him waiting, now do we?" he growls before tugging Gale up against and slamming into James' chest.

"Let's go, my Prince."

Gale says nothing. What would he say anyways? Please let me go? Not a chance.

But who, who was this man they called President? Clearly he was the man causing all this damage, all this destruction, but who was the face called President? This man has to be the center of Gale's world, the answer to the unspoken question. If Gale can defeat this man, doesn't that mean he can save Seamlyn? But what if this man wasn't who Gale thought he was? What if he lives in Seamlyn and has no want or need to destroy Seamlyn, but something else? But what would he want?

The downpour only seems to become heavier now that all the chaos was clearing. Gale blinks the rainwater out of his eyes to clear his vision. He focuses on the sight in front of him. A house. Somehow this house seems to found a way to stand tall against all the bombs…unless it was meant to be missed…

Both men shove Gale into the house through the slightly jarred door. And at the last second, Gale's hearing clears and in the faint distance he hears screaming. They're still too far away from him to be able to make out what they screaming, but something inside of him told him that they were looking for him. Everything was going to fine, but maybe it wasn't.

If he could scream he would, but his voice was too hoarse from the day's events that his throat constrict just at the thought of speaking, let alone screaming for help. He glances over his shoulders, his wet hair falling into his eyes, looking out to what might be the last scene of the outside world. Who knows what will happen inside the only house that stands within miles.

James releases Gale's arm momentarily to shut the door softly behind him. He makes sure the door goes back the way it was, slightly crooked but still in its frame. This wasn't the first time these men have been here.

"Let's go." James says gruffly, but no louder than a whisper the whipping wind could cover up.

They lead him up the broken stairs.


The downpour feels as thick as mud to Madge, but maybe that was because she still lies helplessly in the mud puddle, watching the three boys disappear with the horizon. She can feel her heart breaking, no shattering, in her chest, but something was holding her back from getting up, out of the mud and it's not just because Arthur's eyes are glued Madge's. Clearly, he was making sure Madge didn't follow them, Making sure that even if she tried, they'd be too far ahead of her to find them or know what direction they were heading.

Madge screams out a whine, strangled and coarse. She bows her body – arching her back – over herself, resting her forehead on her knees and grips her hair with such an intensity it's beginning to give her a headache from the sheer force of her fingers. Why does this always seem to be happening? I get him back and then he's gone again?

She can feel her energy draining from her body. Tiredness is starting to seep into her body and she finds herself not having the will to follow them. But she knows she must, it's what she has to do. She moves her knee up so her weight shifts to her foot.

A hand comes down on her shoulder, looking back over her shoulder she sees it's Giselle, "Back for more?" she spits out.

"No, I'm here to warm you about them!" she practically yells at Madge in frustration. She grips Madge's shoulder tighter to enforce her point. Her eyes are as hard as rocks when she says, "Don't follow them. Go straight to the castle. The longer you don't look for him, the longer the he will live. If you show up, they'll kill him." And she wasn't kidding. It startles Madge.

"What? You're insane!" she laughs, the nerves bubbling up in her stomach, her fingers losing all feeling, turning ice cold. Her breathing hitches at the simple thought of Gale dying. She closes her eyes for a short moment, holding her breath to control her thoughts and the short bursts of anger flaring up in her, "Why should I believe you anyways?" she growls. Madge has never been so mad at someone before. Then again, she has never had a real reason to be this mad before. But she finds that it's wrapping around her skin like clothes and taking ahold of her thoughts. She feels her heart start racing in her chest and red cover her vision.

She almost feels like baring her teeth at the woman, the traitor, but she doesn't.

"Just trust me!"

Madge's eyes widen. Giselle's voice is rough with a bit of insanity lancing the outside of it. Both women's chests are heaving at the intensity of the situation. Madge bores her eyes into Giselle's, wanting so badly to believe her. But how can she? Giselle knew Gale was in danger and yet still didn't warn Madge or Gale. She knew Arthur and James were planning to kidnap Gale and yet she still didn't utter a word of warning to Madge or Gale.

"They're going to kill him whether I go after him or not!" Madge yells, pushing herself off the ground and shoving Giselle. Surprisingly, the woman is pretty stable and remains standing on her feet.

"No! Madge," she doesn't even bother with titles and Madge can't seem to find the time to correct her, "Their goal isn't to kill him. Not even close! Their goal is to bring him to the President as an offering. Arthur and James make money; the President has a weapon against Seamlyn. Gale is in no physical harm," Madge scoffs, "Well, he may receive a beating or two, but nothing that he can't survive.

"The thing is, Madge, the President – the person causing all this destruction – wants to use Gale as a tool against King Marcus and Queen Hazelle. He thinks Gale is the key to winning, an easy defeat."

"Then why hasn't the President taken Gale earlier? Why now!?" she yells, her fist balling into fists.

Giselle rolls her eyes, "You've clearly been left in the dark." Madge says nothing, "Listen to me and listen good, Prince Gale has been hidden…in Capitola for months. His parents have disguised it to the public. They urged him to go and meet with you, get to know you to protect him. It's not like it isn't known that Gale is a person of interest. He's in far more danger than any of us here. They – the King and Queen – "

"Wait, so our relationship is fake? He…Gale…He faked it?" tears sting Madge's eyes and Giselle's face softens. "This entire time, all the time we've spent together meant nothing to him?"

"Madge, no, that's not true!"

"But you just said!" she screams again. God, that's all she seems to be doing lately. A Princess doesn't scream.

Giselle grabs Madge's face with her calloused hands, "No," she stresses, "He didn't know. They kept all this hidden from Gale. Ignorance is bliss, as the saying goes." Giselle's eye hold nothing but the truth, Madge can feel it seeping into her bones like a calming presence of the ocean outside her window back at home.

"Wait…"

"He didn't know sweetie, he loves you. You can tell he didn't know they were trying to hide him." Her voice is urgent and her eyes are pleading. She's not going to leave Madge thinking she was never loved.

"My father…"

"It was your father's plan. King Undersee advised that they host a meeting between the two of you so they could disguise the true meaning to Gale. King Hawthorne wanted to keep Gale in the dark and your father offered protection."

"But Gale left, he went home."

"Of course, through secret tunnels and such," she says nonchalantly, "Why do you think Finnick was assigned Gale? Not because they've been training for years together, but because he's in – "

"In special intelligence…and…you…you…you –"she trails off.

"Are in special intelligence too? Yes." She spreads her hands out wide, a slight smirk gracing her older features.

Madge's voice shakes when she utters she next words, causing her voice to drop to a whisper, "Then how do you know Arthur and James?" she's shaking like a leaf. Her chest tightens in fear and she gets that feeling again, the one that feels like she can't breathe and yet has the same depths of the ocean of air at her supply. It's incredibly nerve wracking and annoying. She needs to break the chains restraining her and…and… she doesn't know what she's going to do!

She just so sick of this! So sick of all of this! Why can't the world just be nice to her? Why can't there be peace and serenity? Why can't anything be easy!?

God, she feels like screaming and ripping her hair out and just giving up. But she can't. She is a Princess and Princesses do not give up. Princesses are trained to be future Queens whether they have the chance of that opportunity or not. Princesses are trained to rule, not be ruled. Princesses are trained to be hold their heads high even in times where all they feel is sadness, despair, and loss. Madge Undersee is Princess Margret Undersee and she is a true Princess.

So she looks Giselle straight in the eye and waits, jaw clenched and eyes on fire, for Giselle to answer.

"I was told to watch them. Queen Hazelle, despite many citizens hesitancy to believe, isn't afraid to get her hands dirty. She caught them, well not exactly "caught" them, but found them a small breach in security. She pursued it without anyone in intelligence's knowledge. The only person who knew about her secret mission was her husband, the King. Once it became out of her line of work, she personally choose a small group of us to continue to pursue her mission. Who knows what would have happened to her if she continued. If anyone on their side found out Hazelle was suspicious of something, we'd all be dead…starting with Gale."

"And how do I know you aren't stall for them? Holding me back, spilling some useless lies until they are too far for me to track?"

"Mmm," she nods in approval, "You'd be great for this line of work, quick on your feet and trust issues." She nods again, "Hazelle always thought Gale would be excellent at this too." She says quietly. She pulls something small out of her pocket and presses it into Madge's hand. There was something hard wrapped in linen.

Madge looks down.

"Hazelle says you understand."

Madge glances down again at the white linen in her hands. Whatever is under the cloth is tiny and circular.

It was a coin. One side had Seamlyn's coat of arms. The other side had Capitola's coat of arms. Madge's eyebrows furrow together. What could this possibly mean? Why would Hazelle think I would understand this?

And then it clicks.


The stairs creak under Gale's feet. With each step he takes he finds himself holding his breathing, waiting for the floor to fall through. It wouldn't be the worst thing that happened today…

"We'll stay here for the night, get out of the downpour." James mutters under his breath. Exhaustion was evident in his voice. Arthur looks over at them, ignoring Gale's presence all together, with a look of concern etched in his face.

"You okay, James?" He nods and tightens the rope against Gale's risk. Gale grunts in pain, the rough edges of the rope catches his broken skin. A flare of bright pain lights up his wrist. "Get him prepared and then I'll take first watch."

Yawning, "Sounds like a plan, Arthur."

James leads Gale out of the room again to the one adjacent from it. He kicks open the door and shoves Gale a little too harshly through it. Gale lands on his knees for what has to be the millionth time today. He slumps forward, allowing his warm forehead to rest against the coolness of the dusty, grimy floor. He groans loudly, letting his body relax for once.

Just as he's getting comfortable in his awkward position, James kicks him hard in the rib. Of course, like it's been all day, his breath is knocked out of him and pain flares up again. When will he finally be able to breathe properly and regain control of his life again? It seems like never, like if he was looking out at the horizons of his future, it was visible yet. He still had to keep walking, extending his horizon another mile or so to see it. Right now, it seems impossibly far. Right now, he doesn't even know if he wants to walk that extra mile to see what's in store.

You know what he really wants? Madge. That's what he wants. He wants to go back to their first meeting. He wants to shove her against the wall and take her breath away. He wants to feel her delicate body under his fingertips and her feather soft lips sliding with ease against his own. He wants to be able to hold her in his arms without worrying if it will be the last time he would ever be able too.

You know what he really, really wants? He wants to mutter 'I love you' against every inch of her skin. He wants her to feel it, to believe it, to live it.

James picks him like a small child and walks him over to the small animal cage hidden in the dark and damp corner. Yup, this definitely isn't a coincidence. Gale thinks about fighting it, but the safest thing for him to do now is wait this out. Strategize later, sleep and restore strength now.

If he really, really wants to tell Madge he loves her for real this time, he needs to do but they want. He needs to live. For her.


A/N: Part 8 is kind of boring, but it establishes some major things and hints at some future chapters. I'd say there was some good plot development here, but what do I know! lol

Thanks to DamnDonnerGirls for the comment and forever making my day! I'm still smiling and it really made we want to write and happy dance at the same time. I opted for writing Part 8 after I read it!

Comments really do make writers write! Thanks so much for the support and hope you're all enjoying it so far!