Three days.
The thought made her skin run even colder than usual.
Just three days until we're out there, hanging from the gallows.
She imagined his body hanging limply from the rope, the long drop having broken his neck, and his grey face staring out emptily into the square below.
For some reason, it was easier to imagine him there than herself.
"Don't eat that . . . garbage they brought today," he said suddenly, cutting through the silence. "It stinks of rotting meat."
The smell hit her as soon as he'd described it, and she shuddered. Coupled with the gruesome picture her mind had just drawn, it made her feel intensely unwell.
"Just push it towards the far corner of the cell," he instructed her softly, as if sensing her disgust. "It doesn't get rid of the smell completely, but . . . it's better than nothing."
She stood shakily to her feet and covered her nose and mouth as she made her way to the tray of food. Seeing the raw piece of meat—flies swarming around it and white spots of mold growing in various places upon its surface—made her feel even worse.
Still, she did as he'd suggested, pushing it with her foot until it was safely tucked into the corner of the cell. Once this was accomplished (and this was no small feat), she returned quickly to the opposite side of the room, sitting down again by the grate.
"Thank you," she said, though she found it difficult to get out even that simple phrase as nausea lingered in her throat.
"The sick feeling should pass soon," he assured her, and she closed her eyes tightly, her skin still pale. "Just breathe as normally as you can until then, all right?"
She nodded even though she knew he couldn't see the gesture, and she tried to follow his instructions, her lips trembling as she steadied her breathing.
In. Out. In . . . and out again.
It probably took her longer, she mused, than it had taken Hans; but all the same, after fifteen minutes of repeating this simple exercise, she managed to calm herself down again, and her face returned to a healthier pallor.
Or maybe I just got used to the stench.
She sniffed the air again, and her nose wrinkled in revulsion.
No—definitely not.
"You feeling better?" he asked.
She breathed out slowly, and answered: "Yes, I'm better now."
He sounded relieved. "I'm glad to hear that." He added, after a moment: "I was getting worried."
She smiled, though her mouth felt too stifled by the putrid air in the room for it to be genuine.
"I know."
The quiet following this remark was remarkably peaceful; she supposed that, in the four days since their initial imprisonment, they had become accustomed to these long pauses, and even learned to enjoy them somewhat.
It's not as if we have much of a choice.
It was difficult to find opportunities to speak through the grate, though they tried as often as possible. She was thankful, at least, that the two men who came to watch their cells at night often simply fell asleep at their posts, leaving her and Hans to talk all through the evening and into the early morning hours when the guards finally rotated shifts again.
आप पढ़ रहे हैं
The North Wind
फैनफिक्शन[Frozen; Alternate Ending; Hans x Elsa.] "If they knew you were still alive, they would never stop hunting you," he told her bluntly. "As long as you're here, you're safe from them." Elsa's stare turned hard and bitter at these words; and yet his da...
