The Golden Arrow [ONC 2022]

Thirteen

He was deposited in a prison cell and left to rot.

It was dank, cold enough for his skin to raise with gooseflesh, and dark with only a small flaming torch to give him enough light to view his surroundings. The bars were thick metal and firmly locked. At some point while Jafar had magicked him here, manacles had appeared on his wrists.

Robin tried not to notice the similarities of his bindings to those that Karim wore. Golden and jewelled, the firelight glinting off of them. Unlike the genie's manacles, Robin's had a golden chain that swung beneath them, constricting his movement.

An inspection of his person revealed that Jafar had been thorough in having his magic check Robin for weapons as there were none left on him. Every blade he'd had concealed up his shirtsleeves and buckled to his hips – gone. He hadn't brought his bow and arrow to Belsir.  Thankfully or it would have been gone too.

But the sorcerer hadn't taken the little velvet pouch that Robin had tucked inside of his cloak. The third ring was still there, the band golden and inlaid with a brown stone that was the exact shade of Karim's eyes. Robin had picked the rock out personally for that resemblance so that he might look upon it and see, in its sparkling depths, the man he loved.

Even if it was more than likely that he may not live long enough to see Karim again.  

Robin wasn't naïve. Despite his wish that Jafar couldn't hurt him, the sorcerer was over nine hundred years old. It wouldn't surprise Robin if he had a few tricks up his sleeve and knew how to get around the wording of such a wish. But he also knew that Jafar wouldn't risk killing Robin, not when he was the only immediate link the sorcerer had to finding the genie he coveted.

Not just a genie. His brother.

Hell.

He settled to the floor of his cell with his back against a cold stone wall. The ground was pebbled rock and his fingers brushed through the rocks, searching for anything he might be able to slip into the locking mechanisms of the manacles to remove them.

Before he could really begin his search, a door opened on the other side of the bars. Robin's eyes flicked to it, drawn in by the steady stream of light. For a moment, he spotted a hallway that he dimly recognized. Ornate with golden pillars, sweeping archways, and intricately carved statues.

It was the temple Jafar had brought him to a year and a half ago but this room...It had been magicked to resemble a piss poor prison cell that had no place in the golden palace. The sorcerer's magic was unlike anything Robin had ever seen before. There were too many different types to it, portal-making and that swirling black magic and now this? It was almost as if the magic came from a variety of mages instead of one.

He didn't have the time to dwell on the thought. Not as Jafar loomed in the shadows, his frame obscuring most of the light. As he crossed the threshold, the door slammed shut. For the first time, the cobra-headed staff was nowhere in sight.

"Where did you send him?" Jafar asked in lieu of greeting.

Robin merely folded his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes.

"There are two paths before us, Robin Hood. You can summon him here willingly and without pain or you can rot in that cell as I expend immeasurable pain upon you and you will summon him anyway."

"Why do you need him so desperately?" Robin asked. He hadn't really meant to speak but...There were parts of the story he still didn't know. Things that, if this all went horribly wrong, he may never get the chance to ask Karim about. "What happened between the two of you? How did he end up cursed in that lamp? All Karim ever told me was that you were from someone before the curse and today I hear that you're his brother. Indulge me."