‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙
I screamed as I slammed into the grass and was rolled onto my stomach. Multiple hands pinned me to the ground. Whoever they were, they weren't trying to be gentle.
I felt scratches form on my face as I was smashed into the ground. Something akin to a black hood was placed over my face. I was blind. I screamed through my teeth against my pursuers, bucking and thrashing like an animal. "Woah there, hold her down," I heard someone say. I recognized the voice as soon as it met my ears. Fucking Mason.
"Get the hell off of me!" I screamed, kicking my legs out. My boot hit some soft flesh, and I listened with satisfaction as someone let out a groan. I prayed it was a crotch hit. I was pretty sure it was a crotch hit because then a knee was slamming down into my spine. A scream tore past my lips and I felt tears burn my eyes.
"Did that teach you a lesson, bitch?" Mason said. He took a fistful of my hair under the hood and wrenched my head back. "You know why we're doing this, don't you?" Well it wasn't like I could have shaken my head. "Cocky bitch, you know." He dropped my hair and my chin thumped back to the ground, the end splitting open. I groaned as I felt cold blood leak into the grass.
"Lets get her up," Mason said. My eyes widened in terror and I felt my stomach drop. Up? What did up mean? I suddenly felt hands gripping my wrists and ankles. I tried to focus on how many hands there were, but I couldn't think properly.
I screamed as I was lifted into the ground. Most of my torso was in midair as my limbs were held tightly. I realized then that I didn't need to count how many men were attacking me. I already knew. If it was Mason, he was with his meatheads. So five, five men were attacking me. Fucking cowards.
They started to walk me forwards, but not towards the exit of the forest. No, I could feel it in my heart, they were walking me deeper. "You don't have to do this," I said, still fighting against them. But every kick and thrash of mine were getting slower. I was starting to get exhausted. I didn't normally fight against five fae males.
"We don't?" someone asked. I never bothered to name any of Mason's meatheads. I literally only called them "Mason's meatheads". "I thought you told us we had to because she was too good and she was going to win the obstacle course tomorrow-" There was a slap of flesh and a wince.
"Shut up," Mason said. "No more talking, for any of you."
"You don't have to listen to him," I said, a new determination started to thrum up in my veins. I could try and convince the meatheads. Surely they could tell the difference between right and wrong. Surely they knew what they were doing was cruel. "Really, he's not your dictator-" That's your king, I thought. "Let me go. I won't tell anyone-" My words were cut off as I felt a fist slam into my cheek. My head whipped to the side and I gasped as the world went fuzzy around me. I was enveloped into that pain, drowned in it. I only resurfaced when I heard something. A bubbling? No, more than that. Water. Raging water. My eyes slammed open as I realized where they had taken me.
"No!" I screamed, thrashing like a wild buck. I heard someone let out a curse and my left leg dropped to the ground. Immediately I kicked it out, catching something that felt like a stomach. I nearly laughed as I felt my boot sink into the flesh. I flicked my head back and knocked it into the man who was holding me. Hard. Pain blossomed behind my head but I hardly cared. My entire body was dropped to the ground.
I ripped the mask off of my face to see one of the meatheads running at me. I sidestepped him and sent a kick careening into his side. A hand suddenly grabbed my hair and yanked me backwards. I screamed as fire erupted over my skull. A fist connected with my stomach, over, and over, and over again. I hunched over as pain encompassed my every being. A fist slammed into my jaw and I stumbled back, my world going dark and hazy.
"Please," I gasped as I saw Mason's fuzzy figure stomping over to me. He spared me no mercy. I should have known. I screamed as he grabbed me by the hair and dragged me forward. I spat out a mouthful of blood, tears streaming down my cheeks as I scratched at his hand that was holding me.
The water was getting closer now and my screams were getting louder. How had no one come to my aid yet? Did they normally hear girls screaming bloody muder in the middle of the night? I started to feel pretty damn hopeless as I looked down to see the river right below me. I could feel the mist collecting on my cheeks.
I could've done it. I could've done what I had been wanting to do the entire time. I could've used my powers. If I did, I would have sent a mass of ice at them, ice bullets, frost, snow, everything I had. But I was a spy, and having any other type of powers in Hiraeth was more dangerous than death itself, Elda had told me. So I didn't use my powers. And I suffered.
Mason laughed as he held me mere feet from the water by just my hair. It was awful, a terrible pain spreading across my scalp that I prayed I'd never feel again. My entire body was in pain, and blood kept filling my mouth. So much so that I had to keep spitting it out. I aimed a wad at Mason, watching in satisfaction as it hit him straight in the eye. Tellie had taught me that trick.
His hand tightened on my hair. "You bitch-" His words were cut off.
"Hey!" someone shouted. I recognized that yell. Foley. Pure hope alighted me inside and I let out a laugh. I'd be okay. I'd be okay. The thought had just barely crossed my mind before I was falling and plunging into the water.
The river was stronger now than it had been before, and my body was weaker. I was helpless as my body was dragged down the stream. I kicked and surfaced from the water, sucking in huge breaths. I saw dark silhouettes moving before me. Foley was fighting the meatheads. I heard skin against skin, large booms that meant Foley was creating irreparable damage. Good. Let them hurt.
My body dipped down under the water once again and I felt water get sucked into my lungs. I kicked to the surface desperately, but the water kept me under. It was moving so fast, too fast. I kicked up only to get swept down again. Finally, when I reached the surface, I had moved much farther than I had last seen before. I coughed up water, flailing my limbs as I tried to stay afloat.
I needed a plan. I couldn't just drown. I glanced around, seeing the side of the river. There was a tree up ahead. If I swam fast, I could reach it and wrap my arms around its base. I could do it.
I swam as hard as my body would allow me. Fighting with all of my strength to reach that tree. I screamed through my teeth as the current tried to take me away and my weak body tried to give up. All I wanted to do was give up, to sink like a stone down into the dark depths of that river...
I reached a hand out and clung onto that tree. With a scream, I reached my other arm up and wrapped it around the skinny base. I felt like a piece of paper floating in the wind as the raging river tried to tear me away.
"Foley!" I screamed. He was still fighting someone, though I was too far away to make out who. He dropped whoever he was holding after delivering an award winning punch. He sprinted towards me, covering the distance in huge leaps. His breath clouded out in puffs before him. The air was freezing. I couldn't feel it over my terror.
"Eira!" he shouted. Yes, there I was, freezing in the river. Shouting my name wasn't going to get me any better. He sprinted over to me and grabbed onto my arms. He practically hauled me out of the water, grunting as he finally pulled me free. My legs turned to jelly once I was out and I collapsed onto him, burying my face into his chest. And then I did the thing I promised myself I'd never do inside this camp. I cried. Big, ugly, gut-wrenching sobs.
"It's okay. I got them, Eira," he said, rubbing my back. He might as well have been talking to a wall considering the amount of response I was giving him. I was pretty sure he realized this, because then he was swinging me into his arms. I buried close to him, pressing my damp body close to his. I wasn't sure if he minded the chill. I hardly cared.
We walked for a long while. Eventually, my sobs quieted to sniffles, and Foley's labored breathing and the pounding of our hearts were the only thing keeping me quiet. I should have thanked him, should have been on my knees thanking him for saving me from the impending fate Mason was leading me to. But instead, all I said was:
"You can put me down now." My voice was only a whisper, scratchy from all the screams.
"Right," Foley said. He set me down onto my legs, my knees were shaking but they held me up well enough. He stayed close by my side as we continued walking. "Do you...Um, do you want my jacket?" I almost laughed at that. As if I, the snow queen herself, needed a jacket to protect myself from the cold.
"I'm fine," I mumbled.
When we got to the camp, I squinted at the sight of the guards patrolling the camp, at the familiar gray buildings. It should've looked like home, I had been living there for the past month. But instead, all it did was make me nauseous. I wanted to be anywhere but Camp Caligo. I was sick of it.
"Where are you taking me?" I asked Foley as he grabbed my wrist and made me turn in the opposite direction from where the barracks were.
"You don't actually believe you'll be sleeping there for the night do you?" he asked. "No, you're going to stay with me. I won't take no for an answer. And besides, you need medical attention." I couldn't exactly argue with that. My entire body was aching, in fact, everything was pounding. Even my toes hurt.
"Okay," I said. He led me down to where his tent was, not too far from where Helens was. I wondered if she was still frolicking with Malcolm.
Foley's tent wasn't too different from Helens, his was a bit less organized though. His cot was a mess of blankets and pillows, clothes were scattered over the floor, papers were awash over the surface of his deck. It felt...dirty, and for some reason, it made me want to turn on my heel and walk through the exit.
"You can sit on the desk." he said, walking over and pushing a few papers onto the floor. I watched them flicker downwards. I shuffled over to the desk, perching down onto the edge. I played with my hands, twisting my fingers together before releasing them. My knuckles were bloody and split. I prayed my body would somewhat heal before the obstacle course tomorrow.
"Do you spend a lot of time here?" I asked, stiffening as he walked over to me with an armful of medical supplies. With all the scrapes on my body I knew whatever he was going to put on wasn't going to feel pleasant.
"I do, why?" he asked, reaching a hand up to examine my face. I flinched at the feeling of his hand sliding along my cheek. It was rough and warm, and wasn't exactly unwelcome.
"It's messy," I said simply, shrugging. He pinched his lips together, nodding. He examined my face again, his fingers slid into my hair and I felt my cheeks cool, my fingers curling around the edge of the desk. Something strange twisted in my stomach.
"I should have killed them," he said.
"I should have killed them," I said. He looked down at me, surprised. "The bastards were insecure, that's why they did it. They were scared some 'little girl' was going to win over them. They were scared of me."
"As they should have been," he said. He took a step closer and I felt my breath hitch in my throat. He was much closer to me than he had ever been before. I could see the individual streaks of blue in his eyes, the little wisps of his individual eyebrow hairs. It felt so intimate. I wasn't sure if I liked it.
"Foley-" I started, my heartbeat moving to my heart, causing an uncomfortable lump.
"Eira," his voice was low. Rough. Shit. His hand was suddenly cupping my jaw, causing a starburst of pain to flicker under my skin. I had been punched there. Twice. But he didn't let go. He entangled his legs against mine, his hips pressing against my own. I felt chills erupt over my skin and my mouth went dry.
"I don't think-" My words were cut off as he pressed a kiss to my lower jaw, on the non-injured side. I gasped, all thoughts escaping my mind with a whoosh. Well, all thoughts save for "no". He kept kissing me, dipping lower until his lips were on my neck, right at my pulse point. I heard him chuckle at how fast it was. I wanted to laugh then. It was high from anger, not lust.
"You're so good," he whispered. "Everything about you. Your smell. Your taste. Gods damn, even your skin is good. Soft." His tongue prodded at my skin and I gasped again, sharp and loud. I didn't like that feeling.
"Like that?" he asked. A hysterical laugh bubbled up in my throat at the same time tears were welling up in my eyes. "I want to do so much to you." I felt his hands travel from the desk up to the waistband of my pants. I felt myself stop breathing. His fingers roamed the top of my pants, fingering the space between the hem of my shirt and where my pants started.
"Tell me you want me to," he said. I felt so powerless in that moment. I couldn't even summon the words to tell him to stop. I hadn't told him to proceed, he simply took my silence as consent. I felt disgusting. I felt violated.
When Foley's fingers slipped below my waistline and onto the sensitive skin just above the line of my underwear, another hand finding the button of my pants, I knew I had to stop him. With tears in my eyes, I jerked my knee up, hitting him straight in the balls.
"Blazing hells, Eira!" he yelled, falling to his knees. Good, I had hit him hard. "What in the god's names was that for?"
I grabbed him by the collar. "Did I say yes?" I asked. I was nearly yelling at that point.
"What?" he asked, an incredulous look had spread across his face.
"Tell me Foley, did I say yes. Did I tell you that I was comfortable with you touching me?" he didn't speak. I tightened my grip on his collar, tears dripping down my cheeks. "Answer me, asshole!"
"No...No, but you didn't say no." he said. He was still cupping his crotch, thank the gods, or else his hands might've somehow found their way onto me again.
"But I didn't say yes and that's the problem," I bent low to his face. "Silence is not consent. You touch me again and I'll cut off your hands. And everytime you touch a girl without asking first I hope you remember the feeling of my knee sinking into your dick." Judging by the way his eyes widened, I knew my words had struck a chord with him.
I let go of his shirt, disgust rolling over me like a tidal wave. I wiped my hands off my pants, fighting down a wave of nausea as I backed away from him. I turned around and sprinted out of his tent. And I kept sprinting. I ran until I got into the barracks, until I got into bed. And once I was in the covers I let myself cry.