Chains of Moonlight Chapter Four

Aesira could have easily answered Prince Veremund’s question.

How long until Princess Ragna and her brother and her people gave up on ever recovering her?

Easy. The second she’d dropped out of the sky to lead the charge against the Moon Elves.

Aesira had given up the second the elf had called out she was alive.

It didn’t really matter whether it was the crown prince himself, or any group of Moon Elves, they were all the same. And the longer she went without feeling a Death Knell, the worse this was going to get.

While Aesira had been trained to resist interrogation, she’d never truly believed she’d ever have to make use of what she’d learned.

“Everyone breaks eventually.”

Not on her life.

Aesira made a vow. Prince Veremund and the Moon Elves wouldn’t get so much as another scrap of information out of her lips. He could have her name, but that was all.

She was awake for only brief moments of time. She spent the first day dozing in fits and spurts after Veremund gave up on interrogating her. She wasn’t sure at what point they started moving again, only that she woke up trussed up and draped over and a horse.

She blinked her eyes open to see the grass and dirt flying past and as the horses’ hooves pounded into it with each stride. She could feel the saddle dig into her stomach, with the beast’s gait nearly threatening to throw her off, but failing to do so.

She instinctively tried to move her wings, but received no response, only the cold, stinging spell on her back blocking her from them. The Moon Elves were lucky. Their horses were much taller and broader than human breeds, or else her wings would have easily gotten in the way.

At least that’s what Aesira believed. She had no experience with horses.

The valkyries didn’t keep many. They had no use for them as transportation and the only ones who did have a use for them were farmers.

She just barely managed to tilt her head to look to try to see some kind of indication of their location, even though it was a futile and hopeless endeavor. Instead, all she saw was Prince Veremund riding ahead of them. The motion had her vision swimming. She’d lost so much blood. And then she passed out again.

The next time she woke up, the sun was setting and the moon was rising. They were riding even faster now. She was on a different horse with a different guard beside her, but Prince Veremund was still riding in front of them.

Her lips were dry and cracked, each breath she took scraping over them. She wheezed, struggling to breathe easily with her head dangling and the horse jostling her, sending the air out of her lungs.

At the noise, he looked over his shoulder. The ethereal glow of the marks of his face should have made it easier to see his features, but her vision was still blurry and the light just blinded her.

The first few days were blurs, full of the smell of horse and darkness broken only by cursed moonlight. Her hazy days were spent lying on the ground, watching the guard assigned to her as the others slept in the sunlight. She had nothing to distract her from the pain radiating through her leg. It wasn’t fully broken, but it wasn’t fully healed. Even worse was the lack of pain in her wings. The times she was awake, not being able to feel her wings consumed her. She kept trying to move the muscles, but the only response was the cold hum and the spell on her back glowing slightly.

She had no idea exactly how much time had passed. She only knew the brief snippets of awareness she got, none of which she could differentiate from the others. All the elves looked alike to her, except for Prince Veremund. He did not return to interrogate her again. But he was also never far.

While she couldn’t attest to any memory of it, she was certain that she was being fed and given some water. If they wanted to keep her alive, they had to.

While she wasn’t really coherent, there was one word that kept rising to the surface in painful clarity throughout the haze.

Trophy.

That’s what they were doing this all for.

Any time Aesira managed to open her eyes she was looking for the prince. Her leg ached. She was lying on the ground again. Had it been days? Weeks? A month?

Aesira certainly hoped it hadn’t. But at the moment, she couldn’t recall exactly how long the journey should take, not even if they were flying. She certainly didn’t have the mental capacity to do the math to figure out what that time frame would be since they were confined to horses, even if they were Moon Elf horses. Most valkyries didn’t care to learn those kind of calculations, nor did they need them.

Aesira, however, had been betting Ragna’s life on them. Clearly, she’d been gotten them wrong.

Now she had learned firsthand the Moon Elves were faster than she’d believed, but at least she was the one paying the price for the error in believing they could make it to Auror before the Moon Elves could catch them. One of her wings was crumpled beneath her. She couldn’t feel it, but if she could, she knew it would be hurting with how it was twisted beneath her. If they weren’t going to let her be able to feel them, they should have at least bound them to her when she wasn’t on the horse so they wouldn’t break them with their savage handling of her, and as well as save them the trouble of her wings getting in the way when they did have to move her.

Every so often, in the haze, she heard the mutterings of her guard, and while she didn’t have the capacity to translate that either, she assumed it was grumbling about trying to maneuver a creature whose fifteen-foot wing span was completely limp.

Her eyes were fluttering shut again, even with the broad daylight, but then a cold, sharp voice cut through the air. She opened them again to see Prince Veremund directing a cold, sharp glare at her guard as he gestured to where she lay. Then he was kneeling in front of her.

What did he want now?

Before she could even think of a question and whether or not she should break her silence again, she was partially lifted into the air by her guard as Veremund knelt on the ground. She should kick. She should scream or fight. Do anything to get their hands off of her.

But then it was over before she could find the strength to do anything. She was set back down this time we on her front, her wings no longer pinned underneath her. And when she looked up again, Prince Veremund was walking away.

She buried her head into the dirt. If it wasn’t bad enough already now he’d been touching her wings even if she couldn’t even feel it. Was that worse than if he touched her wings and she could?

She didn’t know.

If her brother ever found out what he’d done… Heimir would never find out. So at least the humiliation would die with her. What had been Prince Veremund’s motivation? Did he even know how invasive it to do so? How intimate a gesture it was for her people? Or did he just not care?

Was it part of some kind of manipulation? So that when he came back to interrogate her next, she’d think well of him and begin spilling her secrets?

It couldn’t have been for her comfort; she couldn’t feel it. So even if she had twisted in her sleep and broken it further, what did it matter to him? What did it matter if his trophy broke on the way to wherever they were going? Wasn’t that the whole point?

* * *

A hand tapped her cheek, and Aesira jerked awake in the sunlight.

Prince Veremund knelt in front of her. “We’re almost there.”

His accent had her blinking at him for a moment before his words registered. Why was he telling her?

“I’m going to make this very simple, little valkyrie.” He held her jaw, forcing her to look at him and not the rest of the camp in the thick, foreign forest. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Aesira had said far too much the last time he’d been in front of her. She wasn’t making that mistake again.

She needed to remember everything she’s been taught. She’d been trained for this.

Silence.

Don’t give them anything.

“I know you can understand me.”

When she still remained silent, Veremund’s hand shifted, grip loosening. “Think. We’ve been traveling for weeks and I’ve not let another scratch come upon you. I’ve taken away the pain. Don’t mistake me, I saw your eyes when I told you my name. You know I’m not afraid to be cruel if I need to be, but I don’t think I need to be with you. You’re smart.”

Aesira hated the burn of his fingertips against her skin, amazed she could even feel it with the dirt, blood, and sweat that had accumulated over… however long it had been.

She just swallowed and let out another steady breath.

“I’m only going to give you one chance, little valkyrie. Tell me why you were escorting your princess to Iubar.”

Did he really think she would be that easy to break?

She let out a soft laugh, pressing the back of her head into the tree she was tied to. “Or what?”

His silver eyes burned, and his voice dropped into a low whisper, “Once we are behind the gates, your fate is sealed. Let’s not drag this out. No one is coming to save you. You know that. I know that. But… if you tell me what I want to know, maybe I take that spell off your back. Maybe I look the other way. Maybe we both get what we want.”

Aesira closed her eyes and pressed her cheek into the tree, breathing in the smell of the bark. She murmured, “Liar.”

His fingertips traced the side of her face, pushing away knotted, disgusting hair behind her ear. “You think I’m not a man of my word?”

Aesira opened one eye. Her voice rasped as she said, “I think you should have kept your stories straight if you wanted to trick me. Not that it would have worked anyway.”

“My stories?”

“Who throws away a trophy before they ever show it off?” Aesira raised an eyebrow. “You already played your hand. There is nothing you could do or promise me to ever get me to talk.”

A vicious smile broke out across his face. “Then let me prove I’m a man of my word.”

He pushed himself back to his feet, wiping his hands on his pants, visibly disgusted as he walked away.

One chance.

As if it had been anything but him trying to get in her head. She shouldn’t have said anything, but if nothing else, maybe she got into his head more than he got into hers.

The next evening, Aesira discovered the answer as to why the Moon Elves and had never bound her wings to her back.

Everything was dark around her, but the horse’s hooves beneath her weren’t striking dirt anymore. Her eyes fought to make use of any scrap of light around and she made out beneath her were paved streets.

She wasn’t alone.

A hand rested and on her lower back, fingers curled into the fabric wrapped around her, but it didn’t seem to be her clothes. When had they wrapped her in a blanket? Well, as much as they could with her wings protruding from her back. And why was she riding on a guard’s lap? At this point it was clearly unnecessary since she hadn’t fallen off on much rougher, uneven terrain without a guard also riding with her. She was surrounded by a cacophony of voices, all speaking Lunian Elvish.

The horse came to a stop. The sound of metal creaking filled the air.

She managed to lift her head up just enough to see a grand gate. Although she wasn’t sure if it was grand by Elven standards, it most certainly was by hers.

What point was there in the bejeweling a gate?

While she was grateful for the added light emanating from the stones, she wasn’t sure if they had any practical purpose or were purely decorative. Considering who she was dealing with, she assumed decorative at the very least. The valkyries didn’t often even use gates, but if they did, they certainly wouldn’t spend any time decorating them. What a waste of time and resources. But it was open, and they were moving again. The sound was so faint she almost didn’t hear it beneath the horse’s hooves.

“You should have broken when you had the chance, little valkyrie.”

But it was in her tongue, and there was only one Moon Elf that had spoken in her tongue. She looked up to see between the knotted, matted, still bloody hair blocking her vision that for the first time, Prince Veremund was the one guarding her.

In the corner of her eyes, she could see a crowd of Moon Elves on the street, eyes all focused on them. That’s why her wings were loose.

What good was a trophy if it wasn’t displayed?

She looked back ahead and the pure willpower that had been keeping her cold, impassive and silent broke.

She couldn’t help the soft and gasp that fell from her cracked lips. It wasn’t some fortress. It wasn’t an army camp.

The building ahead of her answered the question she hadn’t wanted to ask. If she thought the gate itself was grand, it was nothing compared to the palace that loomed before her. She wasn’t foolish enough to hope that this was some castle belonging to some noble where security would be lax, or the soldiers disinterested, or even where the prince would dump her and move on to chase other targets and other trophies.

If she set foot in the Moon Elf king’s palace, she was never going to set foot outside of it ever again.

The saddle shifted behind her as the doors opened and more voices filled the air, and Moon Elves, talking amongst themselves. The only words she could pick out were Veremund’s name, but most of them didn’t dare approach. She could see some of them greeting the soldiers in the courtyard, but none of them moved toward Veremund. They just eyed the prize he’d brought back.

Aesira closed her eyes and pressed her head against the horse’s warm hide.

Why had Lady Fate condemned her to this?

Why hadn’t she died on that field?

A lump swelled in Aesira’s throat. Maybe… Maybe Lady Fate was punishing her for her comrades’ blood on her hands.

But she wasn’t being allowed to hide her face and wallow in her fate. Hands were on her, moving her off the horse. She opened her eyes to see at the same time, the doors to the palace opened and an elf came striding through them and toward her and Prince Veremund.

Her feet hit the ground and she stumbled to ensure she didn’t step on her own wings which would only lead to breaking the fragile, hollow bones. Assuming they weren’t all completely shattered anyway. The fabric that had been covering her slipped, and she didn’t bother to pick it back up.

This elf looked like all the other Moon Elves she could see, and immediately started rattling off to Veremund in their language. Aesira just kept staring up at the massive palace, her hands chained together in front of her, Veremund holding the chain attached to them like a leash.

Was she a trophy or a pet?

The other elf paused in the middle of their conversation and looked her over, and while there was certainly a similarity and between the way he looked at her and the way Veremund had, there was also a marked difference. There had been a viciousness, a ruthlessness in Veremund’s gaze, but there had been measured restraint. It was cold and calculated. Everything meticulously thought out, even as he was analyzing something new.

This elf? His ruthlessness was unrestrained. A wildness gleamed in his eyes. The kind of thoughtless savagery the Moon Elves believed they were superior to and would project onto her people instead.

Who was he?

Veremund shortened the leash, giving it a slight tug to the right and forcing Aesira to take a half step behind him, or else topple over completely. She glared at his back as they kept speaking, presumably about her.

Veremund eventually raised his voice, cutting the other elf off sharply before beginning to confidently stride away leash still in hand, so Aesira had no choice but to stumble after him, her great wings dragging on the ground behind them. Now in addition to the broken bones, they were going to be filthy. Wonderful.

Although, it wasn’t like the rest of her wasn’t already disgusting.

The whole crowd kept whispering as they went, the other elf calling after them with a laugh. Aesira looked up at the palace once more as Veremund walked through the courtyard to presumably another way inside.

He muttered something in his language under his breath before looking back over his shoulder at her, his expression frigid as he said, “Do you understand the situation you’re in right now?”

He was asking her if she’d understood the conversation, she presumed. The answer was no. But he’d gotten her name, and that was all he was going to get from her, not another word more.

If he wanted a trophy so badly, she couldn’t stop him from keeping her as one.

However, he should be prepared for the fact that trophies don’t speak. So all she did was stare blankly at him, even though he’d spoken in her tongue. He just shook his head. A brief flicker of something heavy, a weariness almost, passed over his face before the he looked ahead and fell into silence too.

With her bad leg, she limped after him as best she could, and she was a little bit grateful for the fact he wasn’t getting impatient and straight up dragging her behind him. Eventually they reached their destination, the dungeon. She didn’t know whether the fact all the other cells were empty should be a comfort or a concern.

She stumbled inside, catching herself on the bars as he stood in the doorway.

Once she had her feet back under her, he grabbed her wrists and jerked them in front of him. He pressed his fingertips against the cuffs and lines glowed with silvery moonlight. The cuffs came off and Veremund caught them with one hand. She looked up at him, but he’d already stepped even closer.

She hadn’t even had the chance to rub her sore wrists when he grabbed her by her shirt again, and his other pressing against her back, landing and on her spine, right where the cold, pulsating magic was anchored. The heat of his palm cut through it and then it was gone.

He ripped his hand away, letting go of her and quickly stepping back outside of the cell, shutting the door, as the feeling slowly began to come back to her wings. Aesira looked over her shoulder at them and a sigh of relief passing through her lips, even though she was mostly feeling the bruises, cuts and sprains she’d accrued over the last few weeks. She wasn’t feeling as many breaks as she’d feared.

She heard the sound of a lock clicking into place. Why had he unbound her wrists and removed the spell he’d put on her wings?

Even though she didn’t voice the question, he moved slightly so she could see him better between the bars, and he said, “You’re in a cell, not even the weakest of the Moon Elves is so pathetic to fear you enough to keep you trussed up when you’re behind bars.”

She suspected it was more like she made for a better exhibit to gawk at if she could move her wings while inside the cage.

She leaned forward closer to the bars, looking up at his face, and she spat in it again.

He reached up and wiped it away, tsking. “Next time a simple thank you would suffice, little valkyrie. I know such pleasantries are not in your people’s vocabulary, but since you’ve refused my offer and decided you’ll be staying with us for the rest of your life, you might as well learn ours.”

Not that there she believed the illusion of her ever escaping or them willingly handing her over was real, it still cut through her to hear it.

She especially wasn’t going to be sullying her tongue learning their fate-forsaken language.

She rasped, “It wasn’t real.”

Veremund hummed, tilting his head. “But you’ll never know for certain.”

She just shifted back, crossing her arms and raised an eyebrow.

Then he shook his head, “Good luck, little valkyrie.”

Then he turned on his heel and left. As he did so, he pulled something out his pocket. Her captain’s badge. She slammed her fist against the bar. If she’d know he’d had it, she would have at least fought to take it back.

Veremund’s laugh echoed off the walls.

He’d known it too.

Fate forsake him. He’d already won. He’d killed her comrades and had his living trophy. What did he get out of playing this game?

But he hadn’t won. Not fully. Aesira’s plan might have gotten her comrades killed and landed herself in a cell, but she’d kept her princess out of his hands.

And since she’d won, he was going to make her pay for it with every agonizing breath until he clawed his victory back or Lady Fate finally put her out of her misery.

Aesira looked at the cell around her with no Death Knell to be found, she was going to need all the luck she could get until it finally came for her.

* * *

Thanks for reading Chapter Four of Chains of Moonlight! Read Chapter Five here!

Find all the chapters here!