Chains of Moonlight Chapter Eleven

It had been bad enough, being stuck in a dungeon with an overly chatty Sun Elf in the first place, but now he was right next to Aesira. And somehow had the uncanny ability to tell when she was faking sleep to avoid talking to him.

She shouldn’t have said as much as she had the night he’d been tortured.

Every minute he’d been gone had been a different kind of torment. Her gratitude that they’d come for him instead of her warred with her guilt over it. What kind of a person was grateful for something like that?

The kind of person who condemned six of her fellow guards to die.

It only proved all the more it should have been her in the first place. He didn’t deserve it.

So her mouth had opened up, and she’d said more than she should have. Well, no more. Just because she was guilty didn’t mean she should indulge his ramblings.

There might not be as much physical distance between them anymore, but she wouldn’t let it go any farther.

His first interrogation didn’t do anything about shutting his mouth, that was certain. The next several days, he was at it again, trying to talk her into speaking to him about whatever passing thought was in his head.

She just laid on the ground and ignored him after the guards left their trays on the ground. She hardly had the strength for anything. Her too limited rations had finally caught up to her, and she could feel herself withering away.

No Death Knell yet.

But it couldn’t be far with how heavy her limbs were, her hunger roaring, but all she managed to do was tug the tray until it was close enough for her to pick up the bread with her shaking hands.

“Aesira? What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

She ignored him and just sank her teeth into the hard bread. She hadn’t even moved her wings in a day, that was too much energy. If she stood up, she’d surely faint. Maybe even if she sat up.

Straw shifted and Ulkos’ voice was a little louder. “Aesira! Answer me, please!”

“I—I’m…” Aesira stared at her empty hand. It was never enough. She was still so hungry, but it was all gone now. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

Her voice was rasping, throat painfully dry. She needed water too. She reached out, getting her fingers around the rim of the glass. She started to pull it close even though she didn’t think she’d be able to sit up long enough to drink it when her trembling hand gave out on her, and knocked it over.

She watched as the water pooled out onto the stone, wasted. Unless she wanted to try to lick it off the stone like the animal they thought she was. But that required energy she didn’t have. All she could do was stare at the glass, fingers resting in the puddle that was now seeping into her clothes.

Maybe she could at least lick a few drops off her fingers?

Her throat tightened, and if she wasn’t so dehydrated, she was certain her eyes would be welling up.

This was pathetic.

She had never been so pathetic.

Where was it? When would her Death Knell come and take pity on her?

If Prince Veremund came down into the dungeons and saw her like this, he’d relish in just how low he’d brought her. The worst part was they weren’t even trying.

Something hit her in the face.

Aesira’s vision was now full of a black, musty cloak. She took one weak hand and pulled at the fabric so she could look over it to see the hand extended through the bars of the cell. Ulkos clung to them with his other hand, face pressed up to the metal. “Don’t lie to me. Now, if you don’t have the strength to sit up and take my hand, I’m going to start screaming until someone comes down here and does something about this. Do you understand me?”

Why couldn’t he just let her waste away with silent dignity?

She hated him.

But she hated his caterwauling more.

She got one arm under her. Her vision swam when she lifted her torso, but she was able to reach the other arm out to take his hand. The second her fingertips brushed his, he grabbed hold and pulled.

Aesira wasn’t expecting him to be so strong. Her whole torso immediately jerked up until she was leaning against the bars, catching herself with one hand. Ulkos scrambled back up from where he’d fallen from his own force, and the back of his hand was pressed to her forehead.

All she could do was stare up at him.

His eyes were scanning over her, cataloging every speck of dirt or injury on her. A futile endeavor with how many there were. His skin was warm against hers, and considering how frigid she always was, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. He muttered, “No fever. I don’t see any open wounds that could be infected.”

“It’s—” Aesira blinked languidly. “It’s not infection.”

“Illness then, possibly contagious, but there’s nothing to be done about it. At least if I catch it as well, they won’t want to lose both of us—” Ulkos started rattling off.

Aesira reached up and tapping weakly at his arm. “I’m not sick either.”

When he finally dropped his hand and drew it back, she said, “I’m hungry. The portions… a valkyrie cannot survive forever off them. I am getting close.”

His eyes widened. He glanced over at this untouched tray. “What?”

Aesira closed her eyes, the cold metal bars didn’t help with the chills. “It’s too little.”

Something shuffled, but she didn’t care. Now would he let her be?

But then something was pressed to her lips. Fingertips brushed her cheeks. She opened her eyes, feeling the smooth rim of his cup against her mouth. He was holding it with one hand and her face with the other. She muttered, “Not mine.”

“Drink.”

When her lips parted wider to insist it was his water, he was tilting the cup and it was going down her throat anyway. It was tepid and not at all refreshing, but it was the sweetest thing she’d ever tasted and once it hit her throat, she couldn’t find the willpower to push it away. When the water finally stopped flowing a thumb brushed the corner of her lips, wiping away the droplet that had remained.

She looked up at Ulkos, whose attention was singularly focused, eyes on her lips as he set the cup to the side. He didn’t let go of her face as he then did the same with the bread, pressing it to her mouth so she couldn’t refuse it. And when she tried, he only shoved it in.

Her eyes welled up as her pride crumpled to the ground. She wasn’t completely devoid of water then.

She let him feed her, humiliating as it was and the farther it took her from a Death Knell borne of starvation.

“There you go, come on, just a little more,” Ulkos murmured, fingertips shifting across her cheek, and Aesira squeezed her eyes shut but she took the last bite. When she finally swallowed, his hand didn’t immediately pull away. She couldn’t bear to open her eyes and face him.

His thumb brushed over her cheekbone. “I know it’s not much, but hopefully it will help.”

She had enough strength now to reach up and grab hold of the bars, pulling her head back out of his grip. She opened her eyes and glared at him to hide how close she was to crying.

The last thing she was going to do to bring herself lower was to cry in front of him.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

Ulkos raised an eyebrow, the hand the had been holding her face dangling over the bars so it was still in her cell. “You needed it.”

“Just because they don’t know how much a full grown valkyrie needs to survive doesn’t make it your problem.” Aesira’s eyes dropped to his empty tray. “Now you have nothing to eat.”

“And that’s my problem to worry about. I can go a day without it. You’ve been here much longer going without what you need to survive.”

Aesira shook her head. “That’s the problem. It shouldn’t matter to you if I’m eating enough to survive. That was your food. All that should matter to you is you.”

“Well…” Ulkos paused for a long moment before finally just letting out a long sigh. “You don’t get to decide that.”

Aesira tightened her grip. “If it was the other way around, I would have let you lie there and starve.”

He smiled. “And that’s supposed to change anything?”

“Have I not made myself clear? Why do you still want to be kind? Why can’t you just commit to looking out for yourself above all else?” Aesira couldn’t stop the frustrated growl rising in her tone.

He leaned in and whispered, “You and I both know you haven’t done that either.”

She grabbed the cloak and shoved it through the bars back at him, even though the fast motion made her head spin. She bit out, “Yes, I have. I will always put myself before you. We are not allies.”

Ulkos didn’t recoil. His smile didn’t falter. His eyes just softened a hair. “I didn’t mean me.”

Aesira snapped her mouth shut.

Right. If she put herself first, she would have already told the Moon Elves everything they could ever want to know. Ragna and Heimir mattered far too much for her to ever do that.

She just let go of the cloak and dropped back to the ground, pulling her wings over her to hide her head completely from view.

The next evening, when the guards returned to bring them their rations, Aesira was at least strong enough not to embarrass herself by being forced to lie on the ground and be hand fed by the infuriating Sun Elf. But as she finished her glass, she looked up and Ulkos was, like usual, pressed up against the bars separating their cells.

She was starting to wonder if he’d been tied to them when she wasn’t looking.

He had his tray by his outstretched legs, cloak still on the ground where she’d dropped it. He hadn’t pulled it back on. He had broken his bread in half, but wasn’t eating it.

He was so transparent.

It was a wonder the Moon Elves hadn’t seen right through him to whatever secret he was keeping.

“Don’t even think about it, Sun Elf.”

“Ulkos,” he corrected, looking up and holding the larger half of the bread through the bars. “And too late. Already thought about it, already made my decision.”

Aesira stayed put, out of arm’s reach, wings sweeping across the floor between them. They were filthy. What wasn’t down there?

He eyed her, then the bread, and said, “Either you come over here and eat this—” he held up the larger half and then the other one. “—or I don’t eat this. If you want to starve, we’ll do it together.”

She gritted her teeth. She couldn’t let him get away with this.

He’d get hungry enough and break.

She said, “Have it your way then.”

She didn’t take the bread, and as the night wore on, shifting into day, both pieces of bread went untouched. Their rations were brought again the next evening.

Once again Ulkos tore the bread in half, unequally, and held out the larger half to her as she finished eating her rations. She leaned against the wall and crossed her arms even though she was still feeling woozy and the bread piling up in his cell was appealing even though she knew it was harder than a rock.

When he saw she was serious about looking out for herself first, he would start to do the same. He couldn’t be so altruistic as to let himself starve to prove a point.

Day three came and he was looking pale and his hands were shaking. She was certain today was the day he would break.

When their rations were brought, he dropped the bread while breaking it, but then he held out the larger piece again.

He couldn’t be serious.

Aesira silently shook her head.

As dawn came, Ulkos slumped against the bars.

Her stomach gnawed on itself.

Noon came. Ulkos hadn’t moved in hours.

Fate forsake him.

Aesira shifted across the cell and ripped the bread from his fingertips. He startled and looked up, lips parting as she sank her teeth into the bread.

He smiled and started to pull the other piece up to his lips. He whispered, “I knew you wouldn’t let me starve.”

“You’re insane.”

Ulkos laughed around the bread in his mouth. Then he swallowed. “It worked. That’s all I care about.”

Aesira and Ulkos also ate the rest of the bread from the other days. It couldn’t taste any staler than it had before.

He didn’t try to get her to talk the rest of the day, so at least this stunt had quieted him down. Aesira still shivered as she fell asleep while the sun set.

Like usual, all she saw were fragmented visions of Tofa and the other guards. Always dying. In the battle, she’d seen every single one fall, the Death Blow ripping through her. But Tofa was always the worst. Again and again, the sword went into her chest, as she looked over and whispered, “Why did you take me? Why did you use me? I thought I was your friend, but I was just a pawn to you. You killed me. You killed us all. This is all your fault, so why do you get to live?”

She saw Ragna shaking her head as she flew away. “You were wrong. How much longer until your failure catches up to me too? You couldn’t protect me. How did you ever become my guard?”

Heimir knelt beside her. “It’s hard, when people ask me how I’m doing. I can’t tell them that I’m mourning the sister I thought I had raised instead of the failure you actually were. I have to look their families in the face every day and know it was you who that killed them and got away. If you actually loved me, you would have stayed on that battlefield to rot.”

Aesira woke up, a sob bubbling up in the back of her throat.

When would their ghosts give up? When would the Moon Elves?

Every time she tried to scream back that she was sorry, nothing came out. She had no excuses. She had no justification.

She was asking the same questions.

If she had her way, she would have been the first to fall.

If only she’d been smarter, faster, stronger, maybe it wouldn’t have happened. If they’d left earlier, taken a different route, brought more guards, anything… maybe they wouldn’t all be dead.

But they were.

And now Aesira was theirs to haunt and the Moon Elves’ to torment.

Her tears slipped out despite the way she screwed her eyes shut. She couldn’t stop them the same way she couldn’t stop the vision of her guards falling from flashing before her eyes again and again.

Prince Veremund and Prince Emmerich wanted to break her?

She didn’t know how much more broken she could get.

Where was Prince Veremund anyway? When was he going to come back and destroy her like he’d promised?

Or was that what he was doing right then? Making another attempt at capturing Ragna since his last had failed and all he had to show for it was a broken valkyrie and an infuriating Sun Elf to show for it?

Aesira couldn’t do this anymore.

The sob fell from his lips.

She wanted to go home. She wanted to see Ragna. She wanted Heimir to wrap his arms and wings around her, and she didn’t even care if he said all the same things the version in her head did. She didn’t care if he was disappointed in her, if he was cursing her empty urn for the failure she was right now. Being with them, even if she was never forgiven, would be enough.

And since that was never going to happen. She wanted it over.

Aesira’s whole body shuddered with the next sob.

When was this finally going to be over?

“Aesira?”

And to make matters worse, now the Sun Elf was awake to witness another humiliating moment.

She was supposed to be better than this. She pushed herself up, keeping her wings up and blocking herself from view as she got her knees under her. The sobs didn’t stop.

The sound of Ulkos’ shifting had her reaching up to her mouth as she leaned against the stone wall. She pressed her hands to her mouth, trying to muffle the sobs, but it didn’t matter. He’d heard them, and she could feel his warm eyes on her.

“You don’t…” Ulkos’ soft voice drifted through the bars. “You don’t have to hide from me.”

“Stop,” Aesira choked out, dropping her hand and lowering her wing just enough so she could glare at him. “Just for once in your fate-forsaken life, stop talking!”

Ulkos was pressed up against the bars, hand extended through them. His fingertips were just short of reaching her. He took a deep breath and pulled his hand back. “I’ll not say another word, just this: you don’t have to talk, but if you ever want to, I’m here.”

Then he did exactly as he promised. He fell silent, reaching behind him and taking the cloak and holding it back out, but he just dropped it at the edge of her wings before he laid back down and rolled over so his back was to her.

Aesira waited for his breathing to even out as she struggled to catch her breath. Then she slowly unfurled her wings and reached for the cloak. It was thick, clearly high quality even if rank and musty thanks to the abominable smells of them and their cells. Honestly, it was a miracle the guards hadn’t stolen it from him when they captured him.

Aesira was always freezing in her cell. She pulled it around herself as best she could, tucking her wings around it to hold it in place as she laid back down, this time staring at Ulkos’ back.

How much longer would his patience with her last?

She curled her fingers into the dark fabric.

What would she do when he finally gave up on her?

* * *

Thanks for reading Chapter Eleven of Chains of Moonlight! Read Chapter Twelve here!

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