Warning: slightly graphic
Rowan dared not to flinch as he slowly dragged the blade down her check, not yet breaking the skin. She knew he was testing her, trying to see just how far he could go before he really caused her harm.
He trailed the wicked blade to her jaw, then under her chin to her throat. The cold silver threatened to cause goosebumps to surface.
"Can you get on with it already? I'm getting rather bored," Rowan said with a smirk, knowing it would anger her torturer. He grunted and dug the tip of the blade right above her collar bone, instantly drawing blood. She did her best to not show pain as he repeated the action at the crook of her neck.
"Are you ready to give me what I need?" Blanche asked impatiently.
"So soon? I thought we were having fun?" Rowan retorted smugly. Blanche let out a sound of annoyance and motioned or the man to continue. Rowan quickly looked at Bjorn and gave him an assuring nod. He returned it, but couldn't wipe the dread from his face.
He then slowly grazed her arm, and sliced off a small portion of skin. Rowan clenched her teeth and seethed, causing specks of spit to fly into the air. Then the man cut another slice, this time from the delicate skin on her inner-bicep. She couldn't help but to cry out in pain this time, and balled her hands into fists.
"Want to try again, Gladeswoman?" Blanche asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
Rowan closed her eyes tightly but said nothing.
The large man then walked to the table and sat the bloody knife down, switching it out for a pair of pliers. "Let's see how the little piggies are fairing, shall we?" he said with a malevolent grin.
Rowan's eyes popped open at his words, then looked to the pliers in his hand. Her blood ran ice cold as she could only imagine what he planned to do with them. She struggled to get free, but it was no use.
He removed her boots and tossed them aside next to Bjorn, who watched wide-eyed as Rowan squirmed in fear on the wooden table. He wanted to tell her to remain strong, but knew he didn't have to for she would.
The man waved to pliers around, knowing that he was getting somewhere with the silver-haired woman. "She would break soon, they all do," he thought.
"Blanche, are you familiar with the nursery rhyme This Little Piggy?"
Blanche simpered as he realized what he was about to do, "Why yes I am, Lucian."
Her guard, Lucian, bowed his head and turned back to Rowan, "And are you?" he asked.
She narrowed her eyes at him, "I don't think I am, Lucian," she said weakly, spitting his name as if it were poison.
"Let me enlighten you then, princess," he shot back, mimicking her tone.
Lucian grabbed her left foot with one hand and her big toe with the other, all while grasping the pliers in his fingers. "This little piggy went to the market," she said slowly, wiggling her big toe with his thumb and index finger. "This little piggy stayed home," he sang, moving on to the next toe and wiggling it, "This little piggy had roast beef," he continued, "This little piggy had none," he said with a smile. When he got to her pinky toe he grasped it tightly and clamped the pliers onto her nail, "And this little piggy cried," he paused, yanking the pliers back along with her nail. She screamed in agony clenched her teeth as Lucian continued, "All the way home!"
Bjorn grew slightly nocuous at the sight of her bloody and raw foot. He couldn't imagine what it must have felt like.
Lucian continued again, but this time ending on the nail next to her big toe and pulled upwards slowly. Rowan cried out, not caring that tears were falling down her dirty face.
Lucian smiled smugly at his work and turned back to Blanche. She pursed her lips, wondering just how far she could go. If the Gladeswoman hadn't given her what she needed by now she had a feeling she never would.
She turned to Bjorn and stood in front of him, slightly running her fingers across his bare chest. His stiffened, repulsed that she was touching him.
Blanche turned around, making sure Rowan was looking. The Gladeswoman's face was no longer filled with pain, but with rage.
"Get away from him," she said weakly as her blue eyes bore into Blanche's.
Blanche looked back in between the two as she thought of another plan. She put on one of her most dazzling smiles and turned to Lucian, "Will you bring Bjorn to my bed chambers? Have him washed and fed."
Rowan could feel her heart in her throat as he mind realized what Blanche's intentions were. She looked to Bjorn as he had an unrecognizable expression on his face. She told herself over and over again that he would not do that to her as Lucian and another guard untied him and dragged him from the dungeon.
Blanche smirked at Rowan, looking her up and down before turning and leaving her alone with the third guard, the one who was tall but skinny.
He made haste of unstrapping her from the table, and Rowan contemplated on fighting back. Her spirit had been broken with the torture, and as she imagined what Blanche would do to Bjorn, she felt her soul break as well.
The guard felt bad for the silver-haired woman and gently picked her up from the table. "Can you walk?" he asked her, looking down to her bloody foot. She nodded and tried her best to not place a large amount of weight on her lame foot.
They made their way back to her cell, not remembering it being so far away the first time. Each step brought her agonizing pain, and the wound's on her arm and neck had yet to stop bleeding. She wondered if someone would be sent down to dress her wounds, but almost laughed at the thought. Why on earth Gould they care if you were bandaged?
The skinny guard opened her cell and sat her on the ground before locking her inside. Without a word he left her in the damp dungeon, alone with her thoughts.
She laid on her back in hopes that her wounds would so coagulate. She ripped off a strip of her tunic and tied it tightly under her armpit as a makeshift tourniquet, then tore another piece off and applied pressure to her chest. It wasn't much, but it would have to do for now.
With each minute that passed she couldn't help but to think about Bjorn. He wouldn't do what Blanche expected of him, would he? A small voice in her head told her that he was a man and that's what men do. Another voice told her that he loved her and would never do something like that. Hell, he hardly wanted to with me!
Minuets turned to hours and slowly drifted to sleep.
It wasn't until they brought Bjorn back that she stirred awake. She had dreamed she was back at the Glade and was leading the training exercise. As she sat up and looked around the damp dungeon she wished more than anything she could go home.
Bjorn cursed at the guards as they shut his cell and left the room.
"Bjorn?" Rowan asked quietly, unsure of her emotions at the moment.
He could see the silver-haired woman a few cells down to his left. Relief washed over him that she was still alive.
"Yes love?" He asked, standing up and walking to the iron bars. Rowan could see his tan hands as they grasped the thick metal and looked at his face. She imagined his hair would have been in a tousled mess and his body sweaty, but both looked quite normal aside from the two scratches on his cheekbone. They looked angry and deep.
"What did she want from you?" She manage to ask. She could see him shake his head at her question as he replayed what happened in his mind.
The guards took him to her bedchamber after having him washed in a bathing tub. He changed into a new set of pants but they failed to give him a shirt. When he asked for one they only laughed and pushed him inside her room, locking the door behind him.
Blanche laid on her bed in a silk robe on her side, her long legs peaking out.
She waggled her finger for him to come closer but he remained where he stood. "Why have you brought me here?" He asked in a deep tone. He was tired of her games. If she meant to kill him she needed to get on with it.
"Is it not obvious?" She asked as she studied the Rorik's muscles.
She sauntered over to him and traced over his tattoo slightly. It was then that Bjorn had a feeling as to why she requested his presence in her bed chambers.
He slapped her hand away and turned, reaching for the door.
She gripped his shoulders, pulling him back. "Not so fast." He sighed and his shoulders dropped, "I refuse to give you what you wish. Look somewhere else woman."
She laughed and turned him around to face her. "Oh Bjorn, can't you see that there is no where else? Besides, you are so handsome and young. Who would know?" She purred. She didn't really intend to sleep with the young man, of course. She only wanted to intimidate Rowan. But if the Rorik was up for it she didn't see why she would pass on the opportunity.
Bjorn remained silent and turned his head away from her. She frowned and placed her slim fingers on his jaw, forcing him to look at her.
She searched his eyes for even a hint of lust, but could only find distaste.
This caused her to let out a sweet sounding laugh, "I see. You love her don't you?" She asked.
Bjorn nodded his head once, "Aye I do. And I'd never go behind her back with another woman. Especially with the likes of you." The thought of sharing so personal with anyone else but Rowan made his skin crawl. She was the only women he ever wanted to become intimate with. Even though she was beautiful, Blanche disgusted him.
"And why is that, handsome?" She purred, gently caressing his check with the back of her index finger.
"Are you this incompetent? I don't want you or any one else, now get off of me," he commanded, pushing her away.
"Don't you want to know what it's like to feel the warmth of of woman? Something tells me you and your darling dear haven't completed your little 'task' at the Skabelse," she said again, advancing and circling the Rorik.
Bjorn stood still, clenching his fists. Blanche was wasting his time, as he wanted nothing more to return to Rowan and dress her wounds.
"My my, I would have thought the two of you would've been at it like rabbits!" She exclaimed, "I must ask why, though. Do you find her unattractive because of the scar? 'Tis a pity she will have a few more," she finished chuckling.
Bjorn let a deep growl escapee from his throat and shot daggers at her with his emerald eyes, "You will never be half the woman she is."
As much as she hated to admit it, Blanche knew this was probably true. The Gladeswoman was in fact a force to be reckoned with and was as tough as they come. She would trade out fifty men just to have her fight by her side. Of course though, she would never admit this to Bjorn. "I can tell you have strong feelings of distaste towards me, yes? What a pity. I think we would of made a fine pair both on and off the battlefield."
Bjorn scoffed. She had no clue just how much he despised her. "If you were on fire, I wouldn't even give you the decency to piss down your throat," he spat.
Blanche's mouth dropped open, exasperated at his disrespectful demeanor. She whipped around and slapped him across the face, and was pleased when she felt her long fingernails catch his skin.
He hardly winced even though his cheek stung badly. It was well worth it to see the anger he had caused her.
"Guards!" she called, and three came running in, weapons drawn. "Take him back to his cell," she spat. And they did.
Bjorn shrugged at Rowan's question. He thought it would be better to keep what had happened from her, at least for now. He didn't want to cause her any more distress than she was already in. "She tried to get me to write to my father once again. When I refused she hit me."
Rowan nodded her head and slid down against the cell's cold bars and the two sat in silence for a while.
"I want to go home," she said quietly.
"So do I love, so do I."