Istvan’s Peeve

Cathlinn didn't bother to get up as footsteps traveled about the cage they put her in. How long had she been here? A week? A few days? They didn't let any light in and she couldn't keep track. All she knew was that she was let there for hours, meals being brought to her twice.

Her chest wouldn't stop squeezing, her mind whirling as she tried to find a way to get out and away. There had to be something she could do. Something to say she had been there. They didn't have the Geneva convention here, there were no laws of war for them to follow. She closed her eyes and gripped the necklace around her neck as she tried to calm down.

Miraculously they hadn't taken the pentagram from around her neck and it was the only comfort she got. She could try to use magic but she didn't have any control over it and she didn't know how it would work. She didn't know if her prayers would reach any of her deities and she had no idea if the hound could pick up her trail. She was utterly alone and yet it didn't bother her. What bothered her was how panicked the three would be when they got the news, when they couldn't find her.

She shouldn't have frozen up, she should have done better. She sat up slowly, staring at the plate as the clanking reached her ears. It didn't have much on it and she could tell she was losing weight quickly. She grabbed it and the man that had set it down watched. She glanced up at him, debating on throwing it in his face.

What would she lose if she did? Her life? It didn't seem that bad; at least she wouldn't have to deal with anyone and their games anymore. She took a sharp breath, turning her back and slowly eating. "You're being bought," the man said finally.

Cathlinn's heart raced again, her chest caving in on itself, "What sort of depraved fucking animal would do that?"

"A king," the man snorted. "A king who wants a bed warmer most likely." Cathlinn jerked and threw the plate at him.

"I'm not fucking property you fucking shit stain," she yelled. "Let me the fuck out! Square the fuck up you pussy!" Strong words from someone who just fantasized their death. She grit her teeth as the man wiped the food off of his clothes.

"I can't wait to get rid of you," he snickered quietly.

"Come at me," she barked. "I'll choke your ass out and use your fucking body as a shield!"

"You can try," he snorted. He began walking off and Cathlinn clawed at the ground. She didn't want to do that but she was past angry, past terrified. She rubbed at her face, shivering as a small draft blew past her. It wasn't long before there were more footsteps and then the sound of the cage she was in opening. Her hair was grabbed and she was dragged out, thrown to the ground and her knees scraping.

She grunted and rubbed at her side. The wound from the daggers was taking a long while to heal. It was barely closed and she could feel it tear open slightly. Her chin was grasped and her head tilted upwards. The purple coated man grinned down at her and squeezed her chin tightly.

"You haven't calmed down at all," he mused, "I like that about you."

"Go fuck yourself," she spit in his face, her shaking hands the only things betraying her in the moment.

"I'd rather you fuck me, darling. But alas, you are owned and I no longer have any right to touch you," he purred. He wiped the spittle from his cheek and sighed, "Hopefully they break you down just right. I'd love to see the submissive you."

"Only in your fucking dreams," she snapped at him. Her throat began to ache as he let go of her face and she rubbed it, watching him walk up to a man dressed in hide. She slowly started to get up, yelping when one of the security guards slammed his hilt into her injured side. The man in the hide stepped forward, his hood pulled too far over his eyes for Cathlinn to catch any features. He reached a hand out and Cathlinn flinched before staring at it.

She looked back up as she grabbed the pendant, slowly getting up on her own. It hurt to stretch out after spending so long lying on the floor but she didn't want to rely on help from someone that just bought her. The whole situation was messed up in her opinion and she knew it would be to many of the people she used to know. The man's hand fell as he stared down at her quietly, searching for something.

"I thought I said the product wouldn't be harmed," he finally growled.

"She just hasn't been broken in yet. There are going to be a few cuts and bruises," the man in purple hummed. Cathlinn looked the man over, frowning at the blade on his side. If she could grab it, she could get away right? Just how many were there? That would be her only problem.

"Don't even think," Cathlinn caught the hilt coming for her side again and she started shoving him back. She slammed him into a few cages, pulling his blade from his hilt and holding it up shakily. If they couldn't see it. Score they could now and she was scolding herself for being scared in the situation. All she wanted to do was cry and get away, but there wasn't anyone there to help her. She had to do it alone.

Her arm was grabbed and she was pulled back, "I could end you like this, woman. Don't move."

She wrenched her arm away, swinging at the man, "Get off!" She was panting already, her body hurting and making it hard for her to move. The man was on her in moments, the blade knocked from her grip and his hand around her throat. Her feet left the ground and she struggled for air as she grabbed at his wrist.

Cathlinn was being cradled like a child, a large hand gripping her close to a body. She didn't want to open her eyes, she could already see the light blazing down through her eyelids. The body she was against shifted and she could smell a sweet tang, one she was familiar with. "You didn't so much as scream, they said," the voice above her was only slightly familiar as she forced her eyes open, squinting in the light. "We were in those woods, my people could have helped yet you didn't even scream."

Cathlinn looked up, blinking as she stared at Istvan's jaw. There were others around them; carts and horses, children and people dressed almost similarly to him. Cathlinn went to speak, stopping and coughing as she held her throat. It was a sharp pain and she grimaces at how arm the new wrapping had suddenly become. "Forgive me, Princess. I had to act the part to get you out," Istvan smirked down at her a bit before the smile fell.

Cathlinn slowly nodded, staring tiredly in front of her. Even if she could speak right now it would hurt. He nearly crushed her windpipe and she could tell by the tenderness away from the slit in her throat. "They sold you out," he sniffed. "What trustful allies. Why did you come here?"

Cathlinn rolled her head a little, letting it rest against Istvan's chest. She still felt the panic attack in her chest, her insides squirming as she went over everything. Istvan stayed silent before his grip tightened. A man almost as large as him came up next to him, speaking in a language Cathlinn couldn't pinpoint. Istvan was replying as she closed her eyes and then she was shook.

She glared up at him and he sighed, "We are returning you home after our invasion. Will you be taking part?"

She stared and shook her head, feeling at her side and placing a hand on her throat. Maybe he'd understand those subtle motions. She couldn't fight even if she wanted to. She would just open everything up again and it would possibly get infected.

"I can fix that for you," he nodded. "And I understand, considering they are your allies but it was them that sold you. I would want to take revenge."

She waved her hand and held her middle finger up in the general direction they were headed.

Istvan stifled a chuckle, rubbing her arm, "My, what a spit fire."

She moved the middle finger to him, only making him laugh louder.

"You can sleep more," he nodded. "You lost a lot of blood."

She snorted and grimaced at the jerk of her body to the noise.

"I sent a hawk ahead to your guards. They should be preparing themselves for whatever they chose," he informed her. Cathlinn nodded slowly and felt her chest squeeze itself tighter. If they got involved they could get hurt. She wanted them out, she wanted them to not have to get involved. They were strings that held her down, that kept her on the ground even though her head took her to the clouds.

"Princess," Istvan asked. She looked up at him, a concerned frown on his face, "You need to calm down. There's no reason to get excited."

"I'm," she choked and sat up quickly, coughing. Istvan held her on the saddle of his horse as she spit up and he frowned deeper before turning his horse around.

"Refrain from speaking," he ordered.

"Get them out of there," she wheezed. "Get them out and have them return home." It hurt as gravel seemed to rage in her throat. He tightened his grip and snorted at her, pulling her closer to his chest.

"Don't you trust your dragons, little princess," he asked. "They even said they were willing to lay their lives down-"

"They shouldn't," Cathlinn snapped. "Self preservation. They need to think smarter than that."

"You're insulting your warriors," he snapped, "You're insulting their allegiance to you by trying to get them to safety."

"I'd rather they live," Cathlinn snapped. She spit out the blood that had gathered in her mouth and coughed more, tearing up from the pain and panic. She rubbed her face quickly, grabbing at his arm.

"What is wrong with you," he snapped. She flinched and took in wheezing breaths as he continued, "What makes you think dying for you is so wrong? To them you deserve to be killed for. They want to fight for you. They want-"

"I'm fine with dying," Cathlinn muttered. It shut him up and his horse stopped, the whole caravan rolling past them as if they weren't having the conversation they were having. She sighed and slowly relaxed, changing the volume of her voice to something more comfortable even as small splatters of blood coated the roof of her mouth, "I'm fine with it when others are involved."

"Suicide," he snorted. "You're worth more alive."

"I'm worth more than any of them? Are you shitting me," Cathlinn laughed and it sparked another fit of coughing.

"You're royalty," he stated.

"I'm a naive bitch with a panic disorder and a lack of self confidence," Cathlinn retorted. "I won't allow them to die when they have so much more to offer." Istvan's jaw clenched as Cathlinn faces him and she blinked. He was furious, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he stared at her. He turned the horse with a wagon, throwing her easily into the back between a few people. They were dressed like shaman, their faces painted to resemble animals Cathlinn had never seen.

Istvan jumped in behind her, tying his horse to the back of the wagon and sitting on the edge. He barked an order and the shaman-like people moved, pulling Cathlinn this way and that as they spoke to one another. Cathlinn struggled before she felt the familiar electricity, her body stiffening and relaxing involuntarily.

"If you think so lowly of yourself, others will too," Istvan growled quietly. "You're their leader. Act like it."