For what felt like the millionth time in the space of a week, Charlie woke up knowing only pain.
Every inch of him was bound in a cloak like item, which was in turn tied to him with heavy chains. Pinning him to the ground, rendering even the slightest movements impossible. Any normal wolf would have been half dead after everything Charlie had been through.
But Charlie was no ordinary wolf.
A fact he was currently regretting. For once he could remember, and he hated it.
Until the day he died, the image of his friend's terrified faces would be forever burned into his brain. They had run for their lives, and had they been slower. They would have been dead and it would have been his fault.
The animalistic instinct to run, from his responsibilities, his fears and his pain was slowly driving him insane. From where he lay tied to the ground, he thrashed and kicked but to no avail. His arms remained unnaturally tied to his body.
Leaving him helpless should someone decide they needed to get revenge.
His body black and blue from the fight of the night before, wounds he deserved to bare but were hard to tolerate. The hard ground did him no favours as he struggled to find any comfort against its solid stone floors.
Giving in, he swore loudly enough that a sailor would have blushed at the sound of it. Accepting that his fate was probably to be left here to rot after the performance of the day before. He prepared to wait out the long night ahead.
When someone coughed.
Leaping out of his skin at the sound, he bared his fangs. As helpless as he might have been in this form, it wouldn't take much to change that. The pain was already making it difficult to stay in control.
Struggling to see through the darkness of the cell, even the moonlight did little to help the visibility. He let out a low growl, "Whose there."
A woman with hair of sunset gold stepped from the shadows, what little light there was revealing who had been hiding in the shadows.
"Violet." Charlie breathed, every muscle relaxing at once. He would have given anything to hug her then and there, even break his arms if that was what it took. The thought of her was one of very few things that helped to keep him calm.
Yet his sister regarded him with caution, her gaze void of the love it had once carried for him. She treated him like a stranger, and whilst Charlie couldn't bring himself to blame her for it, it still hurt.
Even in the darkness of the cell, Charlie could see the bright blue of her eyes glittering in the pale light. The blonde curls of her hair which had once tumbled down her shoulders, was now tied back behind her head.
She looked every bit the warrior his father had wanted her to be.
Yet none of the healer that his mother had prayed for.
"Charlie," she spoke at last. Though not free from emotion, he would have hesitated to call it something similar to affection or joy. She kept her distance despite the fact he couldn't have moved to hurt her if he'd wanted to.
Hell would freeze over before I let myself hurt her, he growled at the very idea of it. Causing her to take yet another step back. Charlie winced at himself, regretting every movement he had made so far.
Whilst he may have never caused her physical pain, he had been the cause of much emotional.
Part of him wondered which would have been worse.
An apology was on the tip of his tongue, but he wasn't given the chance to use it before Violet had interrupted his line of thought.
"How are you?" It was not the first question he had expected to be asked. Especially considering the position he currently found himself in. He hesitated, uncertain of whether he should answer honestly or kindly.
"I'm fine," he decided on the latter. Even if it was a lie any wolf could have smelled from a mile away. "You?"
She only shrugged, clearly not in a talkative mood, for once.
His words caught in the back of his throat, but he forced them out in spite of it. "Is everyone ok?"
Translation: how many made it out alive.
The memory of it was making him sick to his stomach and the guilt was eating away at him.
"You'll find out soon enough," Violet replied. Refusing to look her brother in the eye, but Charlie couldn't pretend to ignore the pain which laced her tone like venom on the tongue of a snake. It made his heart drop in his chest.
Robert and Arthur had regarded him with at least some kindness, even if it was underlined with a careful caution as to how they acted around him. It still felt like they were his brothers, and that they cared about him, even if less then they once had done.
Violet was another story entirely. There was nothing but cold in her tone, if not anger.
No matter how bad it hurt him, Charlie couldn't bring himself to blame her for it.
She, and everyone else in this kingdom had every right to hate Charlie.
Forcing himself upright with what little movement he was able to make, he forced himself to not wince against the pain of the tightening chains. It pulled a gasp from him, as they reopened slowly healing wounds.
But that wasn't his concern at the moment.
All he cared about right now was the woman in front of him, and the people she loved.
Even if he was no longer one of them.
"Why are you here?" His voice shook when he spoke, and he made no attempts to stop it.
"To bring you to father," she spoke calmly. Moving as though she suddenly remembered the purpose of her visit, and she hooked her hands beneath his shoulders and dragged him to his feet.
Charlie stumbled a little, his legs giving way beneath him from sheer exhaustion of everything he had been through in the last few days.
Offering no help to him when he slipped, Charlie was left to catch himself before he hit the ground hard.
"Let's go," She spoke firmly and made her way from the cell. When the door opened, it revealed a number of guards revealed themselves on the outside of the door. Waiting for him with caution, their weapons raised as they always seemed to be.
Stepping into the light once again, hating the feeling of being helpless against what could come but with little other choice then to follow. Charlie forced his chin upright, to give some pretence of pride or dignity.
Even if in that moment, he felt as far from both as was humanly possible.
As he walked, and with the backs of the guards turned he began trying to force open his binds. Anything that might give him some sort of upper ground. Even if it wouldn't help him all that much, the faintest idea that he might have an advantage made him feel calmer.
With every step he took closer to the throne room, it seemed to fade more and more.
The call went up and the great doors were dragged open, revealing the glittering gold of the throne room. With his father sat at the centre on his throne, dressed in his best furs and crown atop his head.
Everything told him that his father meant business. Whether that's a good thing or not.
Robert stood beside him, bruised and hunched over as though in great pain, but the strength remained in his dark eyes. Even if it was now blurred with hurt, though not one caused necessarily by the wounds.
When he spotted his brother, Robert shifted his gaze. Doing everything in his power to look anywhere but Charlie. A move which made Charlie ever the more certain that something was very wrong.
The King on the other hand had eyes only for his youngest son in that moment.
And the look in his eyes would have made even the strongest and bravest man uncomfortable under the intensity of it. It burned like fire, and even a dragon could have melted under the heat of it.
Charlie could feel his legs beginning to buckle beneath the stare. For a moment, he was a child again. Terrified of his father and the consequences of his actions.
Only now he didn't have his mother to protect him from the King's wrath.
The guards dragged him to the centre of the room and threw him to his knees. So he was mere metres away from the King and the Prince. A semi circle of armed men forming around him, not that it was likely that Charlie could have done anything in that moment.
All Charlie cared about was asking questions. "Where's Arthur?"
Ignoring the question entirely, the King came out with one of his own. "Do you know why you have been called here?"
"Where's Arthur," Charlie repeated without a care in the world for the opinions of his father. He wasn't doing anything until he found out. Even if the news turned out to be bad and it caused him to hate himself.
The King again didn't answer the question and repeated his own. His arms crossed and eyes narrowing a fraction. In that moment Charlie knew it was nothing good, his father never showed emotion. Even in such a small form.
Charlie had no place to be emotional, but once he opened his lips a third time, every emotion he had ever felt seemed to come pouring out at once. Anger, pain and fear overwhelming his tone until he was almost indecipherable.
"Where is he?" He yelled, teeth bared in an animalistic expression which looked entirely out of place on the face of a human.
Even if Charlie couldn't have been described as human in a long time.
"Not here," Robert finally said in place of his father. Ignoring the glare of death this earned him.
Charlie choked on his next words, but he managed to force them out despite this. "Is he dead?"
"He might as well be."
It may have been what Charlie had expected, but that didn't mean it hurt any less. Had he not been on his knees already, the news would have flattened him to the ground in a mixture of shock and horror.
A cry of pain tore from him before he was able to stop it. It was half way between a scream and a howl, and it was every inch as mournful as any sound he had ever made before. Even on the news of his mother's death.
No one moved to comfort him, no one even let out a sound as they watched him. Like an audience watching a show.
Charlie felt every part the lion tamer as he did the lion.
It was a battle against himself which he was bound to lose.
"Do you know why you're here?" The King continued firmly, getting a grip on his temper far better then Charlie could.
Broken into a thousand pieces, it took Charlie a moment before he could even think of what to say. When at last he found his words, he had to bite on his lip so hard that it bled in order to stop himself from screaming.
"I don't know, but I hope it was worth it."
Apparently choosing to ignore the last part of the comment, the King continued without hesitating. "We are here because you could prove useful. I will explain when you accept, but as I'm sure you understand. You have no place to refuse."
"You want to recruit me for this idiotic war that everyone told you not to start?" He phrased it as a question, but he was careful to allow the spite into his tone. His voice was getting closer and closer to breaking point.
"Exactly," the expression on King James' face was entirely neutral. As though none of Charlie's words had come close to breaching the surface of his skin. At first glance, he didn't seem to have a care in the world.
It took a trained eye to look closer and really see the pain which laced the King's eyes and tone.
For a moment, Charlie didn't say anything. He contemplated, not sure what his father planned to do should he decide to plain out refuse. Then an idea sparked in his head, it was a dark one, but it might well have been his only chance at peace.
All he had to do was convince his father to say yes.
"I will agree on one condition." Charlie spoke at last after a moment, forcing his tone to stay calm in spite of the million and one emotions running through his bloodstream. It took him a lot to stay calm.
The King let out a snort, a less then elegant sound but he nodded his head. "And what might that be."
"When the war ends, in victory or otherwise. You will kill me."