A Thorn In The Ice

Chapter 18: Frozen Solid

Adelaide felt him go limp on top of her. Her lids, which had been tightly shut in passion, opened in confusion; she looked upon him, eyes widening the moment she realized he had fallen unconscious atop her, overcome at last by the strength of the drink.
The throbbing grip of passion released itself from her and reality came crashing back down on the captured queen. She was internally rocked with powerful waves of shock, guilt, confusion and
horror.

For a moment she lay frozen beneath him, in a state of shock.
When the ability to move returned to her, she turned her face away, giving in to a downpour of flashes of what had just happened, his lips on her skin, the intensity of his kisses, how his hands had roamed her body, leaving it in chaos, and how she had so shamelessly reacted to it all.
What have I done?
She wretched silently to herself, and that was followed shortly by another, more horrifying thought.
What more might I have done had he not stopped?

She tried to direct her thoughts, herd them away from the flashes of desperate pleasure that now replayed in her shame painted mind; demanding herself to relive the memories of the Iolas she knew—the crafty villain who had bruised her in ways undeserving of forgiveness, but it proved near useless, as although the fragments of memories pricked her soul like shards of glass, the resentment she attempted to trigger was no match for the passion still burning and very much alive inside of her. 

Distressed, she gripped his shoulders and tried to rouse him with a firm shake.
"Iolas... wake up!"
But he didn't budge, or respond in any manner, lost deeply to his drunken slumber. Pushing him gently off her, he rolled near lifelessely onto his back beside her on the bed of furs.
Adelaide tried to take in a deep breath, but found it difficult to breathe, for though his body was no longer on top of hers, that weight felt as if it had been replaced by her crushing emotions.

A sudden sob escaped her, her eyes welled and bitter tears of shame quickly began rolling down her cheeks.
Feeling lost and more adrift at sea than any ship in the Aelford fleet had ever been, desperate for solice, she turned to his unconsciousness body, buried her face in his chest and sobbed onto the fabric of his shirt and jacket until sleep consumed her.

Adelaide awoke suprise that she had even been able to fall asleep in the first place. Judging from the placement of shadows inside the cell, she gathered it to already be late morning. She was surprised at her unusual sloth, for sleeping in had been something she had not been able to do since before the deaths of Simon and her beloved brother. She sat up and gazed down at the sleeping prince beside her; the events of the previous night returning to her once more.
The ginger queen suddenly became relieved that her sleep had been a dreamless one, because she doubted she could face seeing Simon again after what she had done with the Prince, even if her departed beloved was just a figment of her deep unconscious.

The heavy creaking of the upper hatch opening followed by the sounds of footsteps approaching the lower hold had been what dad drawn her from her slumber. The door opened and in swaggered Groaa with a plate in one hand and a pitcher in the other. He crossed the room in no hurry, and she could feel his eyes on her flesh, siezing her up hungrily, and staring at her as if he could see right through her clothing. With Iolas lost to his slumber, she felt quite alone. A tremor of fear ran up her spine, though she did her best not to let it show on her face.
Noting Iolas for the first time since he entered, Groaa spoke up.
"I see pretty boy is still asleep."
The barbarian looked at her breasts, rather than her eyes as he spoke.
Feeling quite exposed and vulnerable, she pulled at the edges of her cloak, drawing it tightly around her and trying to shield her body from his wolfish view.

He knelt and slid the plate and pitcher between the bars before standing back up, eyes raking her features further as he did.
"Would you hand me that pitcher?"
He asked, almost politely, but the tone of his voice, though she couldn't describe it, made every hair on the back of her neck raise.
"Why?" She asked suspiciously.
"So I can get you more hot water, of course." He replied, setting her off even further.
Why would Groaa suddenly care about her welfare?
"I don't need any at the moment.
Thank you." She forced the calm into her voice to make that response.
"Come on now your majesty, dont make me go fetch the key, unlock this door and come in there to get it myself."
He smiled, as if daring her to do that very thing.
"No need. I can get it."
She quickly assured, and turned to fetch it. Grinding her teeth, she couldn't shake the feeling that he was up to something, so instead of picking it up by the handle, she grasped the top of it in her fingers. Walking back, she stopped well before the bars, putting a good amount of distance between them before holding it out in a manner that he had to reach his arm all the way into the cell just to grab it the far away bottom of it.

"The rags too." He said after placing the pitcher under his arm.
Adelaide turned again to fetch the several rags that now lay strewn accross the cell floor, and felt his eyes bearing down on her as she bent to pick up each one.
Balling them up in one hand, she attempted to hand them to him as cautiously as she had the pitcher, but had no choice but to step closer then before to his arm which waited outstretched through the bars.
"Closer woman, I can't reach them."
He demanded.
She stepped forward slightly, feeling like a mouse approaching a trap.
"Closer." He demanded again, but this time it came out with an irritated snarl.
When she took another step, that is when he grabbed her wrist and yanked her towards him, slamming her body against the bars. His other hand shot through and gripped her painfully by the hair.

She tried to let out a yelp, but the sound was trapped in her throat.
"Relax girlie." Groaa snarled through his rotting teeth.
"As I said before, I'm only admiring the merchandise."
With her hair held painfully in his grasp, he let go of her hand to quickly set down the pitcher from under his arm, before his arm snaked back through the bars, wrapping around her and roughly cupping her bottom.
Adelaide shrieked, but the sound was again trapped in her throat, so she grabbed the bars in front of her and tried to push away from him, but it was futile. Feeling helpless, she began to tremble.
"My, you sure are a soft, fresh little thing." He continued, squeezing her rump painfully, and to the point she knew would leave a hand shaped bruise. A terrible reminder of his forced dominance over her that would likely fade long before the memories of it.
"I just want to remember you as you are, for when my time to have you comes," he continued his groping as he spoke.
"You wont look anything at all like this after he has broken you. They never do." He sighed in slight disappointment.
Adelaide felt the bile rising in her tight throat, and every inch of her skin felt soiled by him.

To her suprise, he let her go. She stumbled backwards, and fell straight onto her already sore bottom.
Groaa laughed at her, and each note from his mouth hit her soul like the tail of a whip. Shaking his head, he picked up the pitcher, and the rags, which had fallen the floor during his trick.
His lips puckered and he noised a few grotesque kisses in her direction before turning and leaving.

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A/N:
I know it's short guys, and I'm sorry.
But I've been going through some bad personal stuff lately. Still between jobs, a not so supportive partner, and depression, among other things. You know, us "tortured artist" types.
But I am really proud of myself for finishing this, even small chapter, because it took me nearly two weeks of writing 100-200 words before totally loosing inspiration/motivation each day. Hopefully this is a step in the right direction. Thank you guys so much for your support and understanding.
Please dont forget to vote if you enjoyed this chapter.
-QueenOfGeeks