Five
Alara
I’m not sure how many days have passed, but the longer we’re in here, the more my walls against Rohan start to crack.
It’s not done in a way where he’s purposely tearing them down, trying to get me to forgive him—it’s in every glance he gives me, like he can’t help but look at me. It’s the way he helps me through my nightmares, the way he makes sure I eat and drink.
Always attentive, always there.
Rohan paces his cell, the chains scraping along the ground almost violently with how harsh his movements are.
He’s been like this for a while now.
Angry, agitated. Worried.
I know he wants to get out of here, to see the clan, and the dragons. For a man like Rohan, I can’t imagine being cooped up in this confined space will do him any good.
He’s used to the freedom of the Wilds. The open air, endless space, riding his Drogonah. Not this small dingy cell locked in chains.
He growls suddenly, causing me to jump, and then reaches for the bars, bending them a little more like last time, grunting with the effort.
“You’ll get into trouble,” I say softly.
His reply is a growl.
“Rohan.”
Nothing. It’s like he can’t hear me.
“Rohan!”
His eyes snap to mine, and those dark depths capture me, holding me hostage as he runs his gaze over me.
“Stop,” I tell him gently and he looks away, jaw clenching before he sighs and sits down, his back to me. His shoulders rise and fall in obvious frustration, and I can feel his anger building.
I cautiously go to him, leaning my back against his through the bars.
“Will we be called to The Games soon?” I ask softly.
“I don’t know, Little Whisperer. He’s not playing the same Games as before, but I suspect we’ll go to the clan at the city walls soon. In the den.”
“Is that where they are?” He nods. “And the dragons?”
“They should be there with the clans. Separated in their own enclosure.”
My eyes water. “Asseya won’t be there though, will she? Or Sparks, and…” I choke on the words, guilt threatening to swallow me whole, and I can’t help the sob that rips free.
He shuffles, and then arms reach through the bars and wrap around my waist. I’m too weak to resist his comfort this time.
“Tell me what happened,” he says. “When I left, when I wasn’t there when you needed me.”
“He was only a baby.” My shoulders shake as the image of his little lifeless body in my arms, replays in my mind.
“I tried Rohan. But he saved me, he… he was supposed to fly with Escor and Drogonah. Alter was going to teach him to sleep more comfortably, while Vex showed him the best stones. Solia and Doren were going to teach him how to swim. Hakkon, Hedoric and Alter wanted to dig new tunnels and they would light the way, and Agnar and Magnus wanted to let him know the best hunting grounds. Blaise was going to help him breathe fire and I… I…”
“Shh. It’s not your fault,” Rohan murmurs, arms tightening around me.
“It is. I should have left him in The Glade like you said.”
“Alara…”
“He stopped that man from stabbing me and in the end—”
“A man?” Rohan interrupts, and the room seems to heat up with the anger in his tone. “A man was there?”
“He came while I tried to escape the fire in the cabin. I was asleep, and Sparks woke me up and everything was on fire.”
He takes a deep breath.
“What happened to him? The man?”
I look down at my shaking hands. “Sparks helped me, but the man threw him against the wall and he was so still, Rohan. Then the man tried to grab me and I fought as hard as I could, I grabbed the knife and I… I stopped him.”
He’s silent for a moment. “I’m glad,” he finally says, holding me tighter. “You defended yourself. I’m so fucking glad for that.”
I sniffle and nod.
“And Asseya?” he asks gruffly.
“She wouldn’t wake up, like Sparks.”
Rohan is silent at that, but I feel the strain in his body, like he wants to rip apart and release the anger I sense swirling inside of him like a tornado.
“Fuck,” he growls, his body trembling slightly at my back.
He’s barely holding it all in.
“And then I called for you, and this green mist came and I was knocked out. I woke up with Declan dragging me into that throne room.”
“Nighturn,” he grunts. “That’s why you were knocked out.”
I sob into my hands. “I don’t know where Sparks is.”
“Little Whisperer,” he says gently, turning me to him.
Too exhausted to deny it, I turn and press myself as close to the bars as possible, soaking up his warmth. One hand goes to the back of my head while the other wraps around my lower back, cradling me to him through the little opening.
“Shhh, don’t cry.” Even in his furious anger, his body curls around mine as much as possible.
“It’s not fair.”
“It isn’t,” he agrees. Once I quiet down, he raises my head, giving me a small smile and wiping my tears with his thumb under my eyes. “You did nothing wrong.”
“But why were they even there? The man said I had to come with him. Why was everything on fire?”
“I don’t know.” His eyes bounce between mine, running his fingers through my hair. “I suspect with the king having found out that there was indeed an elf there, he sent people for you.”
I blanche. “It’s my fault…”
“No, no, never,” he says vehemently. “Never, Little Whisperer. It’s on me. All of it.”
“Because I was kept a secret?”
“Because I changed the deal and told him he couldn’t have you. I should have been there that night, I should have known something was wrong when he ordered the Dragonbonds to meet him in the castle. I should’ve never left the dragons. Never left the clan. Never left you.”
I can feel his guilt, how heavy he’s carrying it with the weight of those words.
“You couldn’t have known. It wasn’t your fault.”
“And it wasn’t yours,” he counters. “But the clan is my responsibility, and I’m man enough to admit I fucked up, Little Whisperer. I really fucked up.”
Because of me.
“The Games are continuing even though he has me, aren’t they?”
His jaw clenches, but he nods. “I doubt he would have done it any other way at this point.”
He runs a hand through my messy hair. He’s done this so many times since we met. I know he likes my hair, he’s taken care of it, washed it, brushed it, almost reverently.
“It will get more tangled if we don’t sort it out.”
“Does it even matter?” I mutter.
“Yes,” he says, running his fingers through my curls gently. “Your hair holds memories, holds many lifetimes. Even when our bodies become nothing, our hair is still there.” He brushes some behind my ear. “It’s sacred to us, and yet others touched your hair without my permission.”
“It’s my hair,” I frown, and he shakes his head slowly.
“It’s mine to care for, to braid and clean.”
I sigh. “It’s not important right now.”
“But it is,” he stresses. “We may be here, but we don’t lose our culture, our customs. We just have to become the most barbaric versions of ourselves to survive.” He swallows roughly. “Will you detest what I will have to do? What I will become?... How many I will kill?”
I pull back to look at him better. I know The Games are brutal, heard as much in the city, but…
“What do you mean? What you will become? I know of The Games, how harsh they are…”
“You have heard it but you haven’t seen it.” He glances away. “You’ve seen me kill people already, but to survive The Games, to keep you safe, and as many of my clan members as possible. I will do things that will live up to why they call us barbarians.”
His gaze finds mine.
“Will you hate me more than you do now when you see even more blood on my hands?”
His eyes shine with emotion, the purple more prominent, and I grip the bars between us.
What has he had to do in previous Games to survive? What had he become? I realize I’d never asked, yet, do I even want to know? Will it change anything? But then I think about everything that has transpired between us since we met. How he’s been with me, his clan, his dragons.
And despite him lying to me, and the lingering hurt from that…
“I could never hate someone for surviving, Rohan.”
He lets out a breath. “But you hate me for breaking your trust.”
“I—”
“The king wants the elf,” Declan’s voice suddenly violates the air, and I shrink back as he rounds the corner, not having heard him coming.
“Why?” Rohan growls, eyes lingering on me.
“That’s none of your business, but you’re going to the clan to get ready for the Enclave while she’s with the king.”
Rohan stills, and I know why.
We’re going to be separated. I’m not going to the clans with him. And I’ll be alone.
I may be in the cell, and he may have betrayed me, but here… I’m not alone because he’s with me.
“She isn’t coming to the clan with me?”
“No.”
“Rohan…” The fear is clear in my tone as he snaps his head to me.
“Let her go or do you need to take a nap?” Declan says, and holds up a round sphere, the green substance inside it prominent.
“I won’t go down easily,” Rohan warns, standing tall.
He won’t?
Declan grins as two more guards appear, spheres in their hands. “I know.”
Rohan’s nostrils flare. He knows he can’t stop them, and so do I.
“Come here.” Rohan holds out a hand through the bent bars, and I go to him, squeezing his fingers tightly as he brings his other hand up to my chin.
“Now get off her. We’ve got to go.”
Rohan holds my eyes for a moment, the purple in his darker, then he places the softest of kisses to my forehead as I try to keep my shaking legs standing.
“Be brave, Alara. You will come to the clan and The Games at some point, I’m certain of it. The king would not throw away that kind of… entertainment.” He grits his teeth as he takes my hand and places it to my chest. “Take care of my heart, okay?”
“Rohan…” I whisper, lips trembling, and then he grunts, turning to growl at the guard who has a spear, poking at his side.
I gasp, my eyes widening.
“No, look at me,” Rohan commands. I do. “Be brave,” he repeats. “No matter what, no matter what has happened, will happen, do not let them take that fire away.”
I stare at him for a moment and then step back.
Be brave.
I need to be brave.