'It's fine, of course it's fine. Why wouldn't it be fine?' Hydrangea said as she paced in her cell. Light streamed through a barred window too high for her to see from.
She continued to pace, her heart thundering in her chest. The straw and muck covering the stone floor brushed against her filthy skirt as she walked.
Her mind was creating scenario upon scenario of what would happen next. As soon as she'd been pulled from the wagon she'd wrestled in the two soldiers' grasp. She'd almost escaped from their hold when her hair was pulled fiercely.
She couldn't see where the Sovereign was and she'd felt a heavy weight to say something. Anything. Goodbye seemed too final so she just yelled his name.
He yelled hers back, but then she heard a painful sound and heard him groan in pain. She grimaced and struggled once more but they shoved her into a building of some sort. After leading her down many stairs, half of which she tripped down, she reached a level where a foul odour lay. She could hear squeaking of rats and groaning of people.
She drew a couple steps back.
She didn't want to be in a prison. She continued struggling and the two soldiers began to yell but she didn't care. They wouldn't let her go and their grip on her arms was painful.
They threw her forward and she stumbled, falling to her knees, her tied hands not saving her from the fall.
"Cut her lose." One of them said and she laid still, waiting for her restricting bonds to be cut. The soldier turned her around so the she faced front and then pulled her wrists up.
As soon as she felt her hands freed she tore her blindfold off and stood. She looked at the door where one of the soldiers stood, and then in front of her. Both gave her hard looks as though telling her not to try it.
"Don't try it missy, you don't want to be on the wrong side of these," The soldier in the doorway said patting a curious black thing dangling from us belt.
She tilted her head in confusion and the man pulled the cylindrical object from his belt. He did something that she could not see, and something that the second soldier objected to, then he pointed the black thing towards the ceiling and she heard a loud, concussive bang.
She covered her ears and her knees subconsciously lowered to the ground. After a few milliseconds she looked up and saw the two soldiers standing outside of the bars, the cell now locked.
Both were looking up at the ceiling, one had his hands on his hips, the other was holding the loud, black thing on his shoulder.
"Did you know they could do that?" The one with the black thing asked.
The one with his hands on his hips, who was evidently angry, took the black thing from the soldier, "Yes, I did. You should've gone to the practice range before you try something like that." He spat as he strapped the black thing to his belt.
A loud, incoherent blundering came from somewhere and the two bickering men looked up.
"Yes, we apologize. Eric here decided to launch his fire lance." The second man said pointedly.
The first man gave him an exasperated look and they both walked away mumbling.
Hydrangea stood and walked towards the broad iron bars; each were two inches thick across and only left an opening five inches wide. She could not see through them very well.
With wary hands she reached out and wrapped her fingers around the cool, dark metal.
After a few seconds of feeling despair and loneliness she straightened herself and began to pace the floor. With a hand to her chin she thought over what had just occurred.
The Primals had yet to help them. Or, those tricky omnipotent beings were not going to help them. The Sovereign could already be on his way back to his island to be hanged, or worse…
Her hand raised slowly to wrap around her throat. 'Oh, how dreadful.'
She blinked when she realized who she'd been feeling… sorry or fearful for. She cared for the Sovereign. She cared…
She stood there in utter and complete shock for a few moments. How had this… fear, this fear of him leaving this world snuck up on her. It had appeared as a notion only a few days before, and now it was a true and present feeling in her.
She took a breath then sighed. She was losing it.
With less determined steps she continued in her pacing, constantly trying to block out the thoughts of her imminent death.
When it reached noon, she could tell by the small window in the highest reaches of her cell, her stomach growled painfully. She clutched at it. It had been nearly three days since she'd had something to eat.
Well, that wasn't entirely true. The Sovereign had found a small quail and they'd eaten it the day before. But she still hungered for more sustenance.
She sat on the freezing floor and rubbed at her nose, which had grown numb. She waited, the entire day, for someone to drag her from her cell, or for someone to drag the Sovereign into her cell, for the Primals—Ratri-kar specifically— to rescue them. But none of these things happened.
Her eyes stared at the wall outside of her cell, a crease in her brow. The Primals, no, Ratri-kar had so wanted her to protect the Sovereign and yet here they were, she awaiting death, and him… she knew not what.
She cupped her hands around her mouth and nose and began to breath deeply, attempting to warm her nose and hands. 'This damned cell is freezing.' She thought upsettedly.
When night had fallen in earnest she was shivering and rubbed her arms to draw warmth to herself. Hearing a jingling of keys she looked up and peeled her eyes open.
A warm light was at the entrance of the cell and she heard a loud, shrill creaking as the door was pushed open. She opened her eyes wider when she realized that this was it.
She was to meet her death.