The White Queen (S.Rogers)

Chapter 1

The things she remembered from her early life were few, if anything concrete. Feelings, really. Maybe the feel of cold concrete beneath her feet, icy water dripping on her head, rough blankets wrapped against her skin to keep the chill at bay. Her father's warm hand on her head, his cold one keeping her body close to his to conserve body heat. The sound of boots in the corridor outside the metal door. The sharp pain of needles burning into her skin. The gasping cold air in her lungs as they put her in the tube to sleep.

Familiar feelings.

She shuffled her feet against the barren floor, her back pressed sharply against the wall. Her eyes darted to the door occasionally, listening to the movements behind the metal, no sense of time available. Her days were marked by the meals shoved under the flap, two a day, and the interruption of her thoughts by the retrieval to go train. The thuds of fists on bodies, the taste of blood on the tongue. The flash of pain when a fist hit its mark. The smell of cordite in the air during target practice.

Tilting her head back against the wall, she closed her eyes and counted the meals, using them as a base line for her internal clock. Three days? No, four, since she had had contact with her father. He had been removed from her presence, the two of them separated by their handlers, most likely for a solo mission. They were always woken up together, and put to sleep together, but they were not always sent out together. There was usually a mission for each of them, when they were applied solo. The fact that it had been so many days without her being sent out, was a bit concerning, but perhaps they didn't need her skills for anything.

Shifting on her tailbone, and cracking her knuckles against her jaw, she huffed. That made no sense. They always woke them up, but the two of them to work, then put them back to sleep. It made no sense for her to not have a mission. The shivers of worry ran up her back, not for the first time since waking up, and she suppressed them. Worrying make things worse. Best to wait to see what was going to happen, and deal with that then.

Heavy footsteps stopped outside the door to her cell, and she slowed her breathing to listen. As the locks disengaged, she pushed up to her feet, her back sliding against the wall, eyes on the door, waiting for what was to come next.

The man, Rumlowe as he had been introduced to her, walked in with a smug look on his face, hands on his hips as he strolled in. His eyes moved up and down her body, taking in her guarded stance, before chuckling lowly.

"Pierce wants you up front, now. So, be a good girl, and make it easy on both of us, alright? Unless you want to play....?"

She shook her head, and held her hands out in front of herself, wrists together, as she had been taught from an early age, letting Rumlowe apply the restraints. Her eyes ran over his face, taking in the slight wrinkles and small scars, which denoted his age being further along then most of her handler had been. Rumlowe grabbed her upper arm, digging his fingers into the flesh, and pulled her along, almost pulling her off her feet into the corridor. Through the maze of halls, he led her, until they reached one rooms, up front she supposed, before letting her go.

Pierce, the mission giver, was sitting at a table, his arms folded, leaning in the chair, watching her with a small smile, as Rumlowe pushed her to take a seat across from the older man. Patting her on the shoulder, he backed away, leaving her unattended.

"Your father has done us proud, my dear. It won't be long before everything falls into place, and the world falls into order. The two of you have done so well, over the years." Pierce smiled and gestured to Rumlowe. "I don't thing we need those restraints, do you?"

Rumlowe stepped forward and released the restraints from her wrists, but she refrained from moving until he had retreated again.

"You have done your part, as well, and done it well. A bit longer, my dear, and you can rest. Your father had earned a reward, though, and I though dinner with his darling little girl was in order." Pierce reached out and took her wrists in his hands, rubbing gently on the marks left by the metal restraints. "You will continue to be a good girl, and not get him riled up, yes?"