[Reviews - 51]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story |
Printer Chapter or Story |
ePub eBook Chapter or Story |

Has been viewed 1157 times

- Text Size +




Authors Note: More X-men characters are introduced in this chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in the following story



Chapter 6:
Imprisonment

***********************************************************

The night ground on forever. It was cold and dank in the silent darkness. Worry gnawed and time creaked along with miserable slowness.

‘Damn her!’ Logan paced his chilly bedchamber yet again. Not a candle had been lit. ‘Why couldn’t she talk? What magic did creed employ to engender such wretched loyalty? Did she know his true nature? Did she know and cherish him regardless?’

But he needn’t worry. He would know the answer soon enough. One night in prison would surely quell her spirits. But the damned night dragged on, cramping old injuries and making his head ache until he could no longer bear to wait.

The sun had not yet risen when he gave up his vigil and clattered down the stone stairs toward the castle dungeon. Rarely had it been used since Logan’s arrival in Scotland. It was the place Meg’s belonged. She would learn that he meant what he said. She would talk or suffer.

He scowled into the darkness and found nothing. The cell was empty, the door open. He cursed aloud then spun away, taking the steps three at a time. Summers appeared in an instant, his eyes wide. Despite the hour and the fact that he should have been in the barracks sleeping, every hair was in place, every garment wrinkle free.

Logan grabbed the man’s pristine tunic in one gigantic fist. “She’s gone!” he snarled.

Scott went pale. Confusion clouded his features. “Who…who is gone my Lord?”

“Who!” Logan roared. “Megs, the thief. She’s Gone!”

“Nay, she cannot be, I delivered her to Pikeshead myself.”

“Pikeshead?” Logan loosened his grip on the guard’s shirt, careful of his temper. “You took her to Pikeshead?”

“Aye my Lord.” He swallowed one, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Twas where you said to take her.

“I said the dungeon.”

“Yes the…” Scott begun, but in a moment his eyes widened. “You meant here at the castle?”

“Where is she?” Logan cut him off.

“I but delivered her to the gate master there. I do not know where they placed her.”

Logan gritted his teeth, but refrained from reaching out. Hank assured him that violence was not the answer. But perhaps hank did not know the question.

“Fetch me my steed,” Logan ordered.

“A…look of shock stamped Scott’s features. “A carriage sir?”

“A saddle horse, you dick! Get one before I fillet your arse!”


***************************************************************

Ororo Munroe sat huddled against a stone wall. The cell was dark, dank and smelled of things she dared not consider. She shivered once and wrapped her arms more tightly against her knees. A high-born lady was above fear, she told herself. She was exhausted, but dared not close her eyes, for she was not alone. Rats scurried somewhere in the distant dimness, but that was not the vermin she feared. Her terror was closer to hand and human.

“Are you asleep yet lassie?” someone asked. The voice was somewhere between a hiss ad a croon.

“No.’ she found her voice with some difficulty, but she dared not remain silent. “I am awake and vigilant.”

“Vigilent?” a chuckle issued from the darkness. “Don’t she talk pretty Mortimer?”

“Aye. And she wields a rock even better, aye Arkady?”

Arkady cursed vehemently. They had attacked her shortly after her arrival and knocked her down, but she had found a stone in the waiting darkness and fought with a strength born of desperation.

“She’ll sleep soon enough,” hissed Arkady. “Then we’ll see how feisty she can be.”

“Perhaps I’ll take her first and…” began Mortimer.

“She’s mine!” Something struck the wall. “And you’d better not forget it, you sawed off little bastard.”

“Bastard am I?” croaked Mortimer. There was scuffling in the straw, accented heavy breathing and raspy curses.

“Sod off the two of you before I call the warden!”

Ororo jerked at the sound of another voice. Perhaps it was a young girl, but her tone suggested experiences Ororo did not share.

“Sod off yourself, you lil tart,” Arkady said, but the scuffling had ceased.

“Tart am I?” said the young girl.

“A whore more like.”

“At least I confine me interests to me own species.”

“When the girl e’re sleeps I’ll show you where my interests lies,” Arkady said.

Mortimer muttered something, and the girl snorted, but finally all was quiet. When she escaped this hellish nightmare, Howlett would pay. Of this much Ororo was certain.

From the far end of the cell someone began to snore. ‘So, one of them was asleep, but what of the other?’ She waited. Minutes passed. The night wore on as images flitted through her mind. ‘Xavier’ She steadied her nerves and let her mind dwell on the viscount.

*Flash Back*

“I but said you should not marry the first sniveling cur that sniffs your crown,” said Xavier. “Not that you should sneak off and marry that bastard lord of Scotland.”

“But you said her was strong, Charles.”

“Yes he is that.”

“And fair-minded.”

“He seems to be, from what I could see, Ororo but…”

“Then I shall go there and see for myself.”

“And what of your throne? What of Erik? You cannot trust him with your throne.”

“No, she agreed. But I can trust you can I not?”

Xavier watched her for a long moment, his face somber, before he shook his head. “No, trust no one,” he said.

*End Flashback*

And in that moment she awoke. Something was wrong. She jerked to her feet, jumping backward. From the darkness, close at hand, Arkady cursed.

“Quick little bugger ain’t you lassie? Come now, I ain’t gonna hurt you.”

“No,” she straightened her back and clenched her hands into fists. From the corner of her eye she could see Mortimer. He was small and scrawny, his eyes were bright. “You are not.”

Arkady chuckled. “Come over e’re now and we’ll have a bit of fun.”

“Fun!” The word escaped on hysterical laughter.

“You thinking you too good for me?”

Terror coursed through her but her mind was formulating a plan. She snapped her gaze to Mortimer and then back to her current nuisance.

“Yes,” she said, and currently her course was set. She braced her back against the cold stone wall and prayed silently. “I am far too good for you. As is every living soul. In fact I pity poor Mortimer.

“Mortimer!”

“At least he has the decency to leave me unmolested.”

“Decency!” Arkady laughed, then turned his gaze toward his cell mate, who stepped forward. “Aye he has the decency to wait till I’m done with you ‘afore he takes what’s left over.”

She felt the wall behind her, searching for some unseen weapon, but there was nothing. “You should not judge others by you own depraved standards.” Ororo said.

“Depraved!?!” he took another step closer. It was near impossible for her to breath. He was too close, only a couple yards away. There was nowhere to go.
“Yes, she said. “You are depraved while Mortimer…”

“I’ll learn you too…” Arkady began and stepped even closer, but Mortimer came with him.

“Leave ‘er be,” he said.

Arkady stopped with a jolt. “What’s this then,” he rasped.

“You ‘eard her. She don’t want nothing to do with you.”

His enormous cell mate coughed a laugh. “And I guess her ladyship wants a tiny wick like you?”

Mortimer clenched his fists, shifting his eyes to her and away, he licked his lips. “Aye, she is.…mine.”

Arkady snorted and turned away, but in that same instant, Mortimer launched himself at his rival. They went down in a jumble of flailing limbs. They swore. From behind her a woman cackled and Ororo screamed for the guards, grabbing the metal bars in both hands.

It all happened in an instant. Light burst into her eyes. The door swung open and she was flung aside. Her head struck the wall. From a great foggy distance she thought she heard the word “Megs,” but perhaps it was a fragmented portion of her dreams.

The light glowed blearily. Someone bent over her like a looming shadow. There was a whimper of fear. ‘Was it her?’ The thought floated groggily through her mind, but it didn’t mater. She let her eyes fall close and heard someone growl an oath.

For a moment she tried to sit up, but her body felt strangely heavy, then she was rising, floating mistily from the filthy straw and lifting languidly upward.

‘Death,’ she sighed inwardly. It didn’t feel half“bad.





You must login () to review.