"Do you like books?" Chuck asked.

"No," his cellmate replied.

"What did you do for a living before being stuck in this hellscape?" Chuck tried another question, hoping for a longer answer.

"Farming," William replied.

"Do you like farming?" Chuck asked next.

This time he didn't even get a word in answer, merely a shrug.

"How did you get into farming?" Chuck asked.

"Father," William answered.

Chuck took a deep breath. This conversation was going nowhere fast. His plan to fill their empty time with chit chat was a total bust. Maybe he needed to think of better questions. Questions that couldn't be answered in a single word.

"Can you tell me a little bit about farming?" Chuck asked.

"If the sun is up you work," William answered. "If the sun is down you sleep."

"That's some riveting stuff," Chuck sighed. A whole sentence and yet somehow just as unhelpful as the single word answers.

Standing up Chuck stretched his sore limits. He was doing his best to ignore the pain in his joints from multiple nights sleeping on stone floors, but it seemed every night made them worse. The constant mild hunger that came with only being served two small meals a day, was his new normal. Chuck dreamed most nights of the meals they served back home. Just then the silence was broken but both their stomachs growling.

"Hungry too, huh?" Chuck asked.

"Yes."

"Do your joints ache from the floors?" Chuck asked.

"Yes," William answered.

He'd know the answers to those questions but somehow it felt good to hear the reply. Chuck thought about trying to strike up a conversation about food, but the idea made his mouth water. Best not to dwell on his hunger.

He started pacing back and forth in the cell again. Chuck wasn't sure why he couldn't just sit still like William. He felt antsy from being cooped up for so long. He stopped pacing and started walking around the walls of the room. Before long, he found himself inspecting the walls for weaknesses in the hopes of finding a way out. He'd tried in his old cell to no effect, but a new room meant a new search. Maybe some previous occupant of his cell had jimmied a brick loose or something.

"You are wasting your time," William said after Chuck had been at it for a few hours. At least he assumed it had been hours. The light from the window had moved and his stomach was even emptier.

"Ah yes, because being in a jail cell is such a good use of my time," Chuck replied sarcastically.

"Fair point," William admitted. "You are wasting your energy, then."

"I gotta do something besides stare at the wall," Chuck explained. "And someone wasn't feeling chatty so it's either this or I poke around in your head for information instead."

William gestured towards the wall. "By all means continue."

Chuck grinned as he turned back to the bricks. It felt somehow like he'd won an argument though he knew this was silly.

"Show me your secrets," Chuck instructed the wall. He tested every brick within reach, trying to wiggle it then moving onto the next one. After working on the fall wall for a while, Chuck thought maybe the opposite wall might be a better bet and shifted his focus.

"You know you might be going a little mad in here," William offered when Chuck had tested half the bricks that made up the opposite wall.

Chuck stopped. He stood up and turned to face William. "I just don't handle being bored well," Chuck confessed.

"Well you won't have to worry about that for much longer," William reminded him. "As soon as Quinn realizes you aren't doing what he wants, losing some fingers should keep your mind occupied for a while."

"Haha," Chuck replied sarcastically. "Or we could try and escape, you know. Might be a thought."

"I've tried it many times," William replied. "Long before my 'try to get the guards to kill me' plan, my escape plans were excellent."

"And you let me look for cracks in the brick!" Chuck explained.

"Yeah cause they all failed," William explained. "This place is like a honey trap. It's really easy to break into, but impossible to escape from."

"Nothing is impossible if you want it badly enough," Chuck disagreed with him.

"See you would think that 'cause you are a prince," Willam reminded him. "But people have limits."

Chuck wasn't sure how to reply. He knew William had a point, but he also wanted to find hope in this situation. The idea of dying in this cell did not appeal to him in the slightest. He wanted to see Sarah again. He wanted to see his family again. He wanted to see his books again. He wanted to sleep in his big soft princely bed again. He wanted to eat a decent meal again!

A loud noise made both Chuck and William turn to look. Someone was entering their cell. It was too early for their evening meal delivery which could only mean one thing; Quinn was coming back. Chuck swallowed hard, suddenly very scared of what the next few minutes would bring.

It wasn't until he saw her that he realised things were going to be so much worse than losing fingers. Her being here was quite possibly the worst thing that could have happened and yet somehow Chuck couldn't help but be happy to see her. He had missed her so terribly.

"Sarah!" he called out. The door to his cell was still locked, but Chuck could see everything through the bars. One of Quinn's hands was holding her hair so tightly Chuck could see the skin of her forehead pulling. With his other hand Quinn held a knife to her throat.

Despite the situation, Chuck couldn't help but notice that even in distress she was beyond beautiful. Chuck could feel his spirits lift at seeing her again, but at the same time terror overwhelmed him. He was terrified for her; terrified of what Quinn would do to her in the hopes of motivating him.

From the moment he saw her, Chuck couldn't shift his gaze away. He was less aware of the world around him as he took in the bruise on her face. There were dark circles around her wrist that looked like they were from restraints and her face was contorted into a grimace of pain as Quinn yanked harder on her hair.

"Stop it!" Chuck snapped. "You're hurting her."

"Ah excellent. Just as I suspected," Quinn smiled. "This couldn't have worked out better if I'd planned it. It seems I should have just taken her to begin with. Oh well."

"You would never have got me in this cell if you'd tried to take us both," Chuck said coolly. "It was two against one with plenty of opportunities to overpower you on the way."

"True," Quinn laughed. "Which is why, as I said, this couldn't have worked out better." Still holding Sarah by the hair he pulled his arm back before releasing her. Sarah was flung forward, thrown hard against the stone floor in front of Chuck's cell door. For a split second, Chuck had hope she'd get up and run away, but then he noticed the four guards standing behind Quinn with swords in their hands. He wanted to go to her, to comfort her but he was still trapped in the cell, only able to watch as they hurt her.

"This is how it's going to go," Quinn spoke to Chuck. "It's quite simple, really. For every five minutes that you aren't trying to get the information that I need, Sarah will suffer. Refuse and she dies."

Chuck turned to William slowly, tears falling from his eyes as he spoke. "I'm so sorry," he said.

"I understand," William replied solemnly. "But you have to understand that I won't make this easy for you."

"I understand," Chuck said with a nod. "I would never ask you to."

Chuck knew what he had to do. He needed skin contact, but William knew this as well, and was up and moving in an instant. Whenever Chuck got close, William moved away. For a guy who has been underfed and stuck in a stone box for who knows how long he was surprisingly agile.

Chuck's heart wasn't in the chase. He didn't want to even try and take William's secret from him. But then he heard Sarah scream. His first five minutes were up. In a flash, Chuck turned to see Quinn's guards kicking her while she lay on the ground.

"Stop!" Chuck called out. He tried to remind himself that if they actually killed Sarah they'd have no leverage to get him to do anything but it was hard. Kicks like that could break a rib and kill her, even if they didn't mean to.

He had to try harder to catch William, even if it was the last thing he wanted. Chuck moved to corner the other man, but as one person he couldn't quite manage it within the four walls of his cell.

With a quick shout, Quinn set one of his guards to help catch William and within no time at all William had his arms pinned behind his back by the guard.

Chuck approached slowly. Oh how he wished he wasn't here right now. Anywhere but here.

"I'm so sorry," Chuck said to his friend again before reaching forward and touching his right hand to the side of William's face.

The first thing he felt was the skills. William knew a great deal more than he let on about farming. Chuck could sense the abilities for plowing, sewing crops, tending to livestock and even some carpentry skills. If he ever needed to repair the wheel on a wagon, he knew where to go. There was also something else. A hobby. Chuck had to stop himself from smiling as he noticed William's skill for decorative carving. He could see hands holding a small blade scraping at the wood and knew that if he reached out he would be able to borrow that skill. But that wasn't why he was here. Carving a beautiful shape in soft wood was not what Quinn wanted.

He remembered when he'd touched Sarah and felt all her many talents. She knew how to fish and hike, but also when to shoot to make a clean kill with her bow and arrow. Her skills with the rapier sword had been the most prominent but he'd also noticed her training in many other types of weapons. A small knife she knew how to throw or slash with in equal measure. What he hadn't sensed in her abilities was a skilled hobby. He remembered looking, hoping to gain even a little insight into her interests, but everything he'd sensed in her had been the skills of a soldier.

Chuck could remember everyone he'd ever borrowed skills from, not that they were very high in number. Morgan had asked him once to 'try it on him' and they'd spent an enjoyable afternoon playing around with his magic.

Another cry from Sarah cut Chuck's thoughts off sharply. He turned to glare at Quinn. "I am doing what you ask, stop hurting her!"

"Hurry up then," Quinn snapped.

"I have never been able to look at memories before," Chuck reminded him. "I have no idea how much concentration this will take, and I can't concentrate if you are still hurting her!" By the end of his sentence Chuck was practically screaming. Every time Sarah cried out in pain it was like he could feel her pain in his own body. Those kicks against his ribs. It was impossible to focus like this.

"Unless you want notes on how to bring in a good harvest-" Chuck continued, but he was cut off.

"Fine," Quinn said. "But if I get so much as a hint that you aren't doing what I want…" The threat didn't need saying. Chuck knew he couldn't pretend.

He turned back to face William still pinned by the guard. Chuck returned his hand to the side of William's face and closed his eyes.

Memories, memories, how to get to the memories. He went back to the image of carving wood with hands as if they were his. Chuck tried to make the eyes look up from the task but everything around the skill was blurry. He tried something else. Chuck focused on the finished carving. The plain block of wood had been turned into a small horse by William's skilled hands. That was progress. Maybe he could link a memory to this skill. Who was the small horse for?

Chuck felt like he was darting around where he wasn't wanted. It was almost like William's mind was fighting against him, which he supposed was exactly the case. It felt so wrong to be poking around where he wasn't wanted, but Chuck didn't have much of a choice.

William must have made the toy horse for someone. Chuck tried to focus on that memory attached to the crafted item again. It was the only thing he could think of to push through from skills into memory. The only weak link.

Chuck tried to push through the fog. He can see the outline of a child, their arms reaching up to accept the toy horse. As the little carving is placed in the child's tiny hands suddenly the scene comes into focus.

The little girl is adorable with light brown hair, but there is something about her eyes that reminds him of William. In that moment, Chuck realises who this must be. He is looking at William's daughter. This is who he loves more than his own life and she is the one Chuck is going to doom to save Sarah.

And for a moment, Chuck considered not going any further. He didn't want to be the one who took this little girl's freedom away from her. He knew with perfect clarity what Sarah would do. Sarah would tell him to let her die in the service of others. She would never value her life over someone else's, let alone a childs. Before he'd even known who he was protecting, Chuck had decided his own life wasn't more important than William's secret. Logic, reason and respecting everyone's rights to choose their own fate all dictated that he stop, pull his hand away and refuse to continue.

But then he heard Sarah's whimper.

Instinctively Chuck turned his head. They weren't hurting her again, but Sarah was curled into a ball on the floor as if her insides caused her pain.

The simple truth was that Chuck couldn't watch her die. He didn't think he was capable of standing by while they hurt her, let alone letting them end her life. Logic and reason didn't matter here. Only her.

Turning back to William, Chuck focused on the little girl with all he had. Flashes of images went through his mind. They started blurry but soon cleared up.

A little girl playing in a field, an older woman, her mother, watching the dance.

The toy horse in her hand as she moved it up and down like it was running.

This isn't what Quinn wanted. Chuck suspected William was deliberately thinking about these images to play at Chuck's heart strings and distract him from finding the secret.

Chuck pushed the happy memories aside and tried to find sad ones. Next he saw the face of the little girl's mother again. She was crying and yelling at the same time. Chuck couldn't make out the exact words but there was a sense of dread within the conversation. Then suddenly, Chuck understood the words.

"She must go into hiding."

The details about how they decided where the little girl would hide must have been weaker memories, as the words became impossible to understand again.

Instead Chuck focused on the table. When William turned his gaze down, Chuck saw a map. He knew that map well, had seen it every day of his life for as long as he could remember. Copies of this map were on the walls he'd grown up looking at, each adorned with different illuminations. It was the map of his parent's kingdom. The only difference with his version was the small x in the top left hand corner.

And just like that, Chuck knew where the little girl was.

He removed his hand from William's face. Saying sorry again felt empty and hollow. Chuck couldn't do it. Instead he just let his body slump down to the ground in his misery.

"Well!" Quinn snapped. "Did you get it?"

"Bring me a map and something to write with," Chuck said flatly. Quinn instructed one of his guards to fetch it.

There was silence in the room as everyone waited for the guard to return. Chuck felt too horrible about what he'd done to say anything. The seconds ticked by and no one moved.

The sound of the guard's returning footsteps seemed as loud as the church bell in the silence. The items were held out to him between the bars. Chuck took the paper and marked it with the x he'd seen in William's memories.

"There," he said, handing it back to the guard. "She is there."

"Excellent!" Quinn said grinning as he took the map from his guard. "Throw her in the cell and lock them all up. I want round the clock shifts of no less than five guards. If this doesn't pan out, I will need them all here to interrogate."

And with that, Quinn turned and left the dungeon. A guard heaved Sarah to her feet while another opened the cell door. They dumped her unceremoniously into the cell. Chuck moved quickly to catch her and managed to prevent her head from hitting the stone at least. Within seconds the door to their cell closed with a very solid thud. Chuck heard the lock turn.

Sitting on the floor, Chuck gently cradled Sarah's head in his lap. She was barely conscious.

For a long time, no one spoke. Chuck started to gently stroke Sarah's hair and slowly she drifted off into a more easy sleep. He just watched her breathe, scared that she was more injured than she seemed. He needed her to be okay, but at the same time, he had no idea what he was going to say to her when she woke up.

I got a morning to write! And then like two weeks later I got some editing time in and presto a chapter for you lovely people. As always thanks to Nev for editing. I look forward to hearing your thoughts on this one. Poor Sarah.

Happy holidays everyone. The new year is looking like I might get a consistent couple hours every week to write so hopefully I can start updating a bit more regularly. *fingers crossed*