Page 2 of Their War

Hands grabbed my arms again as the guards jerked me to my feet. Their grips were gentler now that they were bound by the Queen’s promise. Deciding to go along, not wanting to do anything else to earn retaliation and negate our deal, I rose at their prompting to face Titania.

Now it was the Queen's turn to smirk. “I promised that I wouldn't physically harm you, but that doesn't mean you are free to go.” I hadn’t thought I would get out of here scot-free, but my men would be okay, and that was all that really mattered to me.

She turned to face the crowd that still cowered against the walls. “Rhowyn Hunt is remanded into custody until such a time that punishment for her crimes against the Crown and Avalon can be determined.”

Turning to the guards, she instructed, “Remove this filth from my sight. I will deal with her later.”

As the guards dragged me from the throne room, my feet barely touched the ground, and I struggled to keep up with the speed they were marching at. They held me aloft between them with two guards in front and behind, forcing me onto my tiptoes. We descended past tunnels that were formed from rough, hewn stones, barely lit by the flames of the torches we passed. From everything I had ever learned on Earth, through books and movies, I just knew I was about to find myself in a dungeon.

The guards confirmed my suspicions by opening an iron cell, throwing me in until I landed with an oomph and rolled to prevent breaking any bones from the impact. As I lay on my back, a giggle escaped me.

Quickly, I wrapped my arms around my middle as loud guffaws fell from my lips. I heard the slamming of the dungeon's outer door, my eyes squeezed shut through my laughter. The lock turned with a snick, and still, I laughed. Somehow, I had landed in a fairy tale medieval situation, and the absurdity of it all had me laughing until tears rolled down my face.

My situation wasn’t funny, I knew that. I also knew the danger I was now facing, but something had broken inside of me, and it seemed my reaction to that was laughter. I gasped for breath between giggles, my arms still clamped around my abdomen that was now starting to ache. After everything I had been through, everything I had faced, I had finally lost it.

I didn’t know if it was overwhelming despair at my lot in life or the freedom I had somehow been gifted. Sure, I was currently locked in a dungeon, but in a way, I was free. Free to finally be myself. There’d be no turning back from this; no way we could resolve our standing in the Court. However, it also meant that I no longer had to tiptoe around the Queen’s moods. The lines had been drawn, and I was liberated to know that whatever happened next was to be my own decision.

After what felt like forever, my laughter faded as the truth sank into my bones just as easily as the damp, cool stones had seeped through my clothes, both chilling me thoroughly. As much as I might have found the idea of my situation to be fantastical and unbelievable, it was very much real, and I had no idea just how I was going to get myself out of this heaping pile of shit I had landed in. Not literally, although in these conditions, I wouldn’t have been surprised if it had been. My newfound freedom meant nothing if I couldn’t find a way out of here.

All I did know, though, was that I wouldn't make it easy for the Bitch Queen. If she wanted my head, she was going to have to fight me for it. Because I would be coming for her now.

Up until now, I had been fine with sitting in the background, trying to creep under everyone's notice, taking their shit and not responding. I vowed to myself that I would take everything that had ever mattered to her, tearing her from her throne piece by piece. For everything she had done to me and everyone I had come to care for, I would make the bitch pay. Another smile crept up, and I found myself smiling sadistically in the darkness.

What she didn't know was that now, I was here to play for keeps.

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.

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