Seven Days in Captivity

Chapter Two: Day One

It shouldn't have come to her as a surprise that the first thing she would wake to after watching her precious city go up in black flames would be suffering. The hurt was everywhere. Her bones ached, her tongue was dry and mouth was sore, the muscles wrapped around bone strained and in some places torn. Her eyes were dry as well as the inside of her throat, blinking in pain when realizing that she couldn't produce tears anymore.

Where….Am I?

Jasmine felt the urge to vomit, but nothing would come out, so as her back hunched over for her to perform the motion she only felt the ache course through her body. Death swam into her hazy line of thoughts, but her almond shaped eyes could clearly see the dank and dark dungeon that surrounded her from every angle. Moonlight poured in through slits of rusted metal grates above her head, and water leaked through cracks in the rough stone walls, the noise pounding again and again in her ears. She couldn't be dead.

Letting out a hoarse moan of discomfort, her body suddenly froze, waiting. She felt as if she was waiting for a voice to speak. The girl-though slowly going along the road that would lead to womanhood-was then brought into severe disappointment. No voice answered her desperate thoughts. Her cracked lips even moved to form a small frown at being responded to silence.

Why aren't I in Agrabah?

Again, even as her body was pained in her frozen stance, Jasmine continued to be graced with the presence of disappointment. No one responded. Though it hurt to shut her eyes, she did and moved her lips to make a sound that crossed between a cry and a scream. Her dry throat made it come out as more of a croak.

I have failed.

Her only thoughts lead to more anger and helplessness, knowing that somewhere away from where she was, her dear city and its entire population was being burned by the black flames that plagued her kingdom as she could do nothing.

When chains clinked in her ears, her eyes widened in disbelief, only now coming to the conclusion now that she was chained….to a crumbling wall. She couldn't see it behind her, as the chains that confined her didn't have links long enough to allow her to bend her head back far enough.

Somehow the aching that coursed through her slender being was left to a small dull intensity of what it was. Possibly it was the temperature-which was freezing her body to near numbness- combined with the fact that water swirled near her shapely legs and pressed down palms. Her eyes took in the mud that mixed on the dungeon floor, and her hands clenched to fists, straining the muscle as she pounded in onto the floor.

"I demand," She exclaimed, ignoring how raspy her voice was and the pain that accompanied it. "To know who has taken me from my city! Show your face you coward!"

Jasmine expected to be rewarded with a typical sleazy voice, one that oozed with disgusting evil and came with the body of a well fed aristocrat who got bored with his power. There was still nothing. When this happened, her eyes squeezed shut to attempt to block out the emptiness. It wasn't working.

She lay writhing on the floor in near madness, the sick feeling of helplessness and confusion poisoning her body for nearly an hour or more, and just when she was ready to give up and black out again, there was a small sound.

Click

Her honey colored iris's widened, and the noise caused her body to tense up.

Click

It sounded peculiarly like the sound of a boot hitting the cold dungeon floor. She didn't know whether this person was friend or foe, and was unsure as to what she should do. Should she lie down and feign sleep? Or would it only allow them easier access to harm her? They would most likely be an enemy considering the fact that they were walking very calmly, she could hear it in their stride.

Creak

A groaning of the wooden door opening enlightened Jasmine that this mysterious unknown person was finally within looking distance of. Her heart pounded in her chest, tittering wildly against her rib cage as she hoped for them to not harm her. She was only a princess, fragile and untamed in the ways of survival. Nor did she wish to have her mind toyed with. She was only somewhat educated book wise, and that was merely for manners and how to rule one's kingdom. Even then, she was only a woman. Women weren't privileged in the sense of knowing how to defend themselves. It was automatically assumed that a male would do the protecting for them.

Whoever came up with those rules must never put themselves in my situation, she thought to herself dryly, fear still burrowing it's way into the pit of her stomach.

She had yet to look up and face her possible captor. There was silence again. Steeling herself for the worst, Jasmine peered up into the eyes of the human. The brown orbs widened again in shock.

He couldn't have possibly been a year or two older than herself, in the physical sense. His body was thin and lean; she didn't have a doubt that beneath his elegant dark blue and black sorcerer robes that he processed a strong toned figure. Nor would she put it to chance. His hair was a head full of dark ebony curls, short enough to be considered tame. Most of it was covered by an elaborate matching turban that sat on his head.

"Are you my captor," Jasmine murmured wearily, but she kept her voice hard, as to not show intimidation. Weakness in front this man seemed that it would only lead to her being humiliated. His eyes, they were nothing but dark, deeply intelligent orbs.

Though he seemed of a high social status, he didn't seem to mind crouching down to her level, his gaze cool and collective.

"Actually, I prefer to be called Mozenrath," The male proclaimed, and his voice matched his eyes, smooth, sharp, and dark. "Captor seems so…well, vulgar in this situation."

"Kidnapping does tend to go down a vulgar alley," She exclaimed back, ignoring the rasp in her feminine voice.

She couldn't help but scowl when he let out a small chuckle, something that seemed to come straight from his chest in a light rumble. It wasn't something entirely unpleasant, though with the idea that this Mozenrath was indeed her captor, it only let something sickening roll down into the pit of her stomach.

"I suppose kidnapping does, yes," He responded back smoothly. "But I'd rather like to look like this in a different light. Being that it was my doing that led to the downfall of your kingdom-"

There was a pause, possibly for dramatic effect. To be honest, she couldn't tell.

"There would be some vulgarity that accompanies your being here. But, I myself didn't ask to have you here. My mamluks tend to be a bit…on the daft side. I had said to take no prisoners. Apparently Xerxes can't take orders."

Jasmine had no idea who Xerxes was, and the only thing in her that compelled her to want to know was the fact that she was left a little lost in the conversation. It was the same for these so called mamluks. Some part of her brain nagged her incessantly to remind her that with a man like him, she probably didn't want to know. The princess left her thoughts to herself.

Her thoughts must have been showing in her eyes, for Mozenrath immediately clarified.

"Mamluks are zombie soldiers that are under my control. The undead, in other words. As for Xerxes, he is simply my familiar, a creature that I have a bond with. He serves great magical purpose, but again, he too lacks a good head on his shoulders."

The man shrugged as if to say that it wasn't his fault in the matter.

She proceeded to stare at him as if he had grown two heads, possibly even three.

"Are you….apologizing to me? I honestly can't tell."

It seemed that for a second he thought she had grown a second head herself.

"When did you ever hear those words in my speech? I have no conceivable reason to apologize for anything."

He must have been an aristocrat previously before he resorted to evil, she thought to herself dully. He was now no different than any of the other power driven males in her own kingdom, handsome but rude. Terribly rude.

"(she let out a small sigh in her tiredness and exasperation) I must have been out of my mind," She quipped bitterly, her tone lacking any trace of warmth.

Then Jasmine was to first become overly familiar with his rather unexpected mood swings. Cold fingers gripped her chin to force her to look at him as he slammed her head into the rock behind her. She could hear a dull ring buzzing in her ears. Her body temperature wasn't warm enough for her to feel any pain from the bump on the back of her head.

"Indeed, you were. I apologize for no one, as I feel remorse for no one. You'll find in your stay here that backtalk done to me as an attempt to insult my person will result in nothing but your pain."

As she took in the cool voice that was laced with the slightest bit of venom, Mozenrath appeared to have noticed the fact that her body was almost completely numb. He had also shoved her head against the wall again to further emphasize his threat.

"Hn," He murmured in a cool, almost disinterested tone. She could feel the weight of his dark, intelligently cold eyes bore into her face, and she shivered at the way it made her feel. The sickening roll pushed into her stomach again, timing her emotions with the fact that she was starving and cold.

"You're surely going to catch a cold in a day or two. This is not to be blamed on myself, for prisoners shouldn't been given any special treatment. However, having you die on me when you haven't done anything particular to cause me to slaughter you wouldn't be very sensible. If you want proper bedding and a meal, give me an apology befitting of you captor."

If she wasn't so numb, tired, and hungry, she would have laughed in his face as the incredulousness of what he asked of her. Her survival needs cut into her what she wanted to voice aloud, so she pushed her opinion and thoughts to herself.

"I….Apologize for my rudeness." No matter how well deserved it was.

He let out a rather undignified snort.

"Surely you can do better than that. I would have figured Agrabah to teach their women more manners than that."

Just like Jafar, she hissed out in her mind. Selfish, arrogant and prejudice against women. Her eyes burned in anger, but Jasmine repeated to herself mentally that she needed his help to have another chance of surviving another day. Though she was still on her knees, she bowed her head in a form of respect to him once he had released her chin, her eyes honey colored flames that he couldn't see through the tangled curtain of her ebony locks.

"Please forgive me for my impudence Mozenrath," She exclaimed in a reverent tone, hoping it would appeal to him if she used his name.

Expecting the answer to her apology as to be shown to a warm place with bedding and food for her rumbling stomach, she was instead met with disappointment. One of his booted feet nudged an open hand.

"I suppose you don't really want a chance to get well again. Oh well, have it your way."

Something inside her snapped. Her eyes saw nothing but his back as he turned from her to exit the dungeon door, and while he was still in reach, she lunged at him.

That was her second mistake, so closely following the first. His anger appeared once again, knocking her against the wall without a thought, watching her as she slid to the ground pitifully. He scoffed at her injured form.

"I don't respond to impudence," Mozenrath exclaimed. "It seems my attempt at civility has alas been ruined. Very well, stay in this dank dungeon with the rats. Enjoy your rather dismal stay here. I shall try this again tomorrow."

With a sweeping of his midnight blue cloak, the dungeon returned to darkness once again as he left her presence.

Tears leaked from the corner of her eyes, small and few but still there. She attempted no movement from her aching body's position on the floor, choosing to remain in pain.

"Why," She hissed out, and her voice was muffled into her arm.

She herself didn't know what she was asking the reason for, so there was of course no chance of a response to her confusion.

Her first night spent in that dungeon would not be her last. Not yet at least.