2. Chapter Two Rhowyn
Chapter Two: Rhowyn
I would have thought that the Queen would have followed me down to the dungeons within a couple of hours at the most. What I hadn't expected was to still be waiting here five days later. Five days of staring at the same three walls and the empty cell across from mine. No bedding, no pillows, no window. Just a bucket in the corner that somehow emptied itself and the inconsistent meals the guards provided me.
The walls remained damp and covered in moss, the cold seeping into my bones and making sleep nearly impossible. And damn, was I tired. Between the necklace that had steadily been depleting me and the iron front to the cell, my magic was nearly non-existent. I wouldn't have been surprised if iron was somehow bound within the stones of the other walls at the rate that my magic leaked from me. Now that I knew what to look for, I could easily watch in my mind as my magic was pulled from me. Like water circling the drain, leaving only the drops on the lip, not quite enough volume to fall through the pipes but still not enough for me to do anything with.
To think, at one point, I had successfully lived without magic while on Earth, surrounded constantly by iron, a common human material found in the construction of nearly every building, especially in the city. It made me wonder how I would live without it when I returned.
Yes, I made the decision to stay with my men, but I also made a promise to my girls. My heart was torn between two worlds and how to reconcile the two lives.
While you might think that I'd be absolutely miserable after the amount of shit I'd already been through here in Avalon, what with the trials, the punishments from a tyrant queen, nearly dying multiple times, and having to deal with four very vexing men, I still found myself falling in love with this world.
Here, I was alive in a way I never had been on Earth. Here, I felt like I could find a home and happiness, the likes of which I had never known. Here, I was surrounded by those same devoted men, two of whom I had gotten to know in the best of ways, and the other two were simply a matter of time before we explored each other. The tension between Lennox, Callum, and I was growing. Despite the fact that those two tried my patience on every level, I found that I enjoyed the challenge. They were all good and honorable men, fighting alongside me for their world. I respected them. Plain and simple. And from that respect, I could feel my heart opening to them, falling for them all in ways I could have never imagined while back on Earth.
On Earth, I had simply been existing. Going through the motions of the day-to-day, the only purpose I had was the self-defense training of the girls who lived in foster care. I absolutely loved teaching them how to rely on themselves and to never truly need anyone. After suffering the system like I had, I wanted to help all that I could from finding the same fates. Even now, I worried about them all. I had already been here in Avalon much longer than I expected and hoped that they were all doing okay. As much as I wanted to fret about them, I knew I had to push them from my mind for the time being. There was nothing I could do from here, especially from this cell, and I needed to focus on how to get free.
I was tired of the same three walls. If she was trying to kill me with boredom, then she was getting close to her goal. I'd already counted all the stones that made the walls, nine hundred and sixty-eight, looked for patterns in the moss, like shadow puppets or looking at the clouds, and I was now sitting in the far corner, my head leaning against the wall with my eyes closed. All forms of entertainment had already been exhausted, just like my magic, and I was left with only my thoughts.
A faint shuffling noise sounded out in the suffocating silence of the dungeon. I didn't bother moving, already having heard the noise before. The first time I’d heard the faint rustle of what sounded like clothing on the stone, I realized I wasn't alone. Trying to determine the source, I called out, hoping it was someone else down here with me, but after a couple of hours without any response, it sank in that if it was a human, they weren't going to respond.
For all I knew, it could be rats down here with me, but I hadn't seen any evidence that this was the case. Thank Goodness. I didn’t need to deal with those vermin on top of the other miseries I had been subjected to. Other than the intermittent noises that came from further down, the only interactions I had were with the guards. If you could call it that. They were just as chatty as the other resident of the dungeon.
Every time they brought me my meals, or rather the slop that they called food, they ignored my attempts at communicating with them. It was almost like they couldn't even hear me. Hell, a part of me was wondering if the cells were soundproofed. But that couldn't be the case. I could hear the other person who had been consigned to the same fate as me.
To keep myself somewhat entertained, I started to sing songs from the 90's. Usually horribly and out of key. Starting with You Gotta Fight for Your Right to Party and now singing Eye of the Tiger , I repeated a new song over and over all day. Or what I constituted a day. It was hard to tell exactly. I was using the meals as my guideline, and I wasn’t sure they were coming at regular intervals.
The first day, I searched for the bond with my men, feeling them faintly and assuring myself that they were safe. Angry, frustrated, and desperate, but safe. Since then, with the drain of my magic, that bond grew fainter and fainter. Even though I’d tossed the necklace across the room on the first day, my magic was still fading. Nothing able to replenish within the confines of the iron cell. The songs were just as much a distraction for myself, to keep me from feeling the despair that I was left with at the loss of my men in the back of my mind and the loss of my magic and strength, as a way to annoy the guards whom I knew sat outside the door.
Putting on another burst of volume, I sang out, “It's the eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the fight, rising up to the challenge of our rival, and the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night, and he's watching us all with the eyeeeeeeee of the tiger!” I belted the chorus with all my might before going into the second verse.
“Please, stop!” a raspy voice called out, barely reaching my ears over the volume I was singing at. “Just stop, please. I can't take anymore.”
Sitting up, alert and with more energy than I'd had in several days, I replied, “I'll stop if you promise to talk to me?” I threatened him with my off-key singing and cheesy one hit wonders knowing he couldn’t resist the compromise.
He didn't respond, silence my only answer. Desperate to talk to someone, anyone, even if they were a murdering psychopath, I gave him a few minutes to reply. When he didn’t, I started to sing again. “I'm a survivor, I'm not gonna give up, I'm not gonna stop, I'm gon' work harder...”
“Fine,” he snapped. “I'll talk, just please stop singing.”
Smiling to myself at my accomplishment, I wracked my brain with something to talk about. After days of desperately wanting to talk to someone, now I didn't know what to say. “How long have you been down here?” I blurted the first thing that came to mind.
“Too long.” I waited for him to expound on that answer, but he didn't.
“Okaaay...” I dragged out the word. “Well, what did you do to get thrown down here?”
“What did you do?” he asked, turning the question back around on me. “Try to sing the Queen to death?”
Laughing at the memory, I replied, “I tried to kill the Winter Consort.” Yeah, assassinations weren't usually something to be proud of, but that dickbag definitely deserved what he'd gotten. Of course, it was the Queen's fault for trying to come after Arryn, so I couldn't help the burst of pride in myself that I had successfully foiled her attempts to ruin us.
“If that were true, you'd be dead,” the man snapped, his voice filled with doubt.
“Yeah, well, apparently I'm one of the Chosen, so she can't outright kill me, but I also made a deal with her that she couldn't physically harm me or my consorts.”
“I'm sure she made that deal willingly.” This man's sarcasm game was on point. I couldn't help my smirk. Maybe we could be besties . Yes, I was well aware that my thoughts were sounding crazy, but at this point, I didn’t care.
Laughing again, I explained, “I had a magical blade from the Lady of the Lake that could only be handled by me. I threw my dagger at him, and he was bleeding out. She didn't really have a choice since I was the only one who could remove it so he could be healed.”
“Smart,” the mystery man responded, his tone indicating he was impressed by my story. “But one doesn't just randomly try to kill the Winter Consort. What did he do to deserve the attack?”
“He tried to take what was mine.” I paused as the scene flashed before my eyes, still fresh in my memory, and the absolute panic that had hit me when I realized Arryn's life was at stake. “The Queen had ordered the execution of one of my Consorts. She tried to say that he was a traitor to the crown.”
“Ah. Generally, she does get those accusations right. No matter that she deserves to be overthrown,” he said, sympathizing with my situation.
“Sounds like you're speaking from experience.”
“Hmm...” He remained silent for a moment, and I thought I would have to start singing again. “To answer your question, I tried to kill the Queen.”
“So how come you're still alive?”
“I've spent the last couple of decades trying to determine that for myself.”
Decades?! This man had been down here that long and hadn't gone crazy yet? I had to give it to him, he had handled the imprisonment a lot better than I had. I couldn't even imagine spending a year in these conditions, much less decades.
“Seriously?” I asked him, needing to hear more.
“Yeah.” His voice came out on a quiet, defeated sigh.
I couldn't help but feel the emotion come over me as well. I still had hope that I would get out of here, but I could tell he'd lost his a while ago. Imagining what decades would do to me in this cell, I was surprised that he was still holding on. No wonder he hadn't wanted to talk. What was the point when he only had more of the same to look forward to?
The dungeon door squeaked open. Seriously, they needed to oil those hinges. The godawful noise was torture on its own. Perhaps that's why they left them the way they were. I tilted my head as that realization dawned on me.
As the door swung open, several guards lined the hallway that stood between the cells as far as I could see. Which, honestly, wasn't very far. Each fae faced forward, faces blank and stoic, reminding me of the British Royal Guards that stood on display in London. There were a lot more here than my usual visitors, and I had a suspicion as to why.
The reason for so many unexpected guests made itself known almost as soon as the last guard took his place. The Queen swept into the room, a look of disgust on her face at the conditions. She stepped carefully across the moist, stone floor until she stood in front of my cell.
Not bothering to stand, I leaned back against the wall, feigning nonchalance. She didn’t need to know that I was losing my mind from the boredom. Instead, I pretended I was on a beach somewhere on vacation, the warm sun soaking into my skin instead of the mildew I was currently covered in. I pasted a smile on my face. “It's nice to see that I'm so feared that I warrant a contingent of guards to keep you safe.”
Her eyes narrowed in response as the muscle in her jaw jumped, my words having their intended effect on her. “If it were up to me, I'd leave you here to rot, as you deserve.” Through clenched teeth, she continued, “But it seems that you must still partake in the final trial.”
Finally pushing to my feet, I stood to face her, remaining silent as I struggled to keep the hope from my face. She rolled her eyes as I crossed my arms and cocked out a hip. “Apparently the final trial is preparing to start, and you are needed.”
“And my Consorts?” I asked her.
“There's no rule saying they must also be present, so you will be entirely alone.” She gloated at this fact.
I simply shrugged. “As long as you've kept your word and they're safe, that's all I care about.”
“Don't threaten me, child. You won't be in this protected situation for much longer. The next Queen will be selected, and we will both ensure that you get what is coming to you.”
I smirked. “Good luck with that. I don't plan on making it that easy on you.”
“You have no power here. You rely on the fact that you were Chosen, but that prestige won't last much longer, and then you'll be revealed as exactly what you are. An insignificant piece of excrement that should have never been selected. You’re a disgrace to all of fae kind, and I'll take pleasure in ensuring you learn your place once again, underneath my boot as I step on your neck.”
Tired of playing this game with her, I simply shrugged off her threats as if they were nothing. Deep down, I did worry about what she was capable of, but I'd be dead before I showed that to her.
Satisfied that her threat had hit home, or so she thought, she smiled smugly. “The guards will escort you to where the other Chosen are gathering.”
She turned to walk away, pausing after a couple of steps to look over her shoulder at me. “And Rhowyn? I'd watch my back if I were you.” Her eyes sparkled as if a plan was in play to ensure I failed. For the first time in this entire interaction, I felt a trickle of fear.