Of Soot And Cinders

XXIV

A|N: here's a double post to make up for my absence, I may have a triple post coming...if I don't fall asleep.
Warning: depressive thoughts, violence

SOOT

I startled awake at the sound of keys. Straw pressed into my cheek and was strung through my hair. The door to my cell rattled open and I pushed myself upright. Or I tried to but my left leg screamed in protest and my sight was overtaken by black. I didn't realize I was vomiting until bile forced itself up my nose and spilled onto my hands.

"You passed out." The voice wasn't loud but it hit hard against my ears. I had passed out, I was weak, I was going to die.

"Are you surprised?" I shot back. To hell with being the perfect slave. I had hours—if not that—to live.

"I'm surprised you didn't black out sooner than you did. Most men wouldn't have lasted seconds." There was a long silence as my vision finally returned. I looked up to my visitor. It was Grimm's Beta, Wolf.

"I pity you. For your strength." He continues. "I can guess at the pain you will endure, it would be more merciful if you were weak, if the first strike killed you."

I looked down to my hands and fought back tears. "You're not very good at comforting."

He let out a half hearted laugh, but sighed. "Can I help you sit?"

I scoffed but nodded. Wolfs massive hands snuck under my armpits and gently lifted me so I was leaning against the cell wall. He was careful to not touch my leg but it still throbbed. With my legs stretched out in front of me I was able to see the swelling. My leg looked like it was infected with toad pox. It was bubbled and black. There wasn't a part not touched by bruising or lacerations. I shuddered at the sight, somehow I had forgotten how bad it was the first time. I didn't really know how nine year old me survived the stoning.
My suit was torn enough that it slid halfway up my thighs. While most of the damage was below the knee I was able to see a little trail of black snaking up towards my hip. I traced it with my finger, under the skin I couldn't actually feel it, but my mind tricked me enough to make me think that it itched.

"Blood Poisoning." Wolf said.

I nodded my head.
"One was or another. Today's my day." The words sent a surprising pain to my heart. I knew I would die one day, die while scrubbing hearths or while being punished but never—

"It's different," I mused aloud, even if I didn't know Wolf I was thankful for his presence. "Knowing the exact time and way you will die. I've only ever known that it will happen. I liked not knowing when and how. It's a luxury."

Wolf shifted and sat in front of me. He picked at a piece of straw, deep in thought. He looked like a child, immune to the world's shadows.

"I know the feeling."

"Fighting on a battlefield is not the same. I don't have a sword or army at my back." I spit. How dare he say he knew what I felt.

He hung his head low and shook it. "No, not that. I was raised on roadsides, in gutters. Once I got myself in too much trouble. I was supposed to hang on my fifteenth birthday."
He looked up and I could see the sympathy in his eyes, and I saw tears there too.

"And you're still going to escort me to the whipping post." I whispered. My words struck like I wanted, but the guilt on Wolfs face didn't put a salve on any pain.

"I—I have to protect my prince." I wasn't sure he believed his own words.

"I'm not a threat." It was meager, and even if I convinced Wolf that would do nothing to help my sentence. He shook his head.
"How is he?" I whispered.