It was dark and cold in her cell.
A young girl of fifteen was curled up in the corner, shackles clasped around her ankles.
The damp residue of constant leaking rainfall through the single barred window seeped through the grey rags that she called her clothes.
Her alarmingly thin frame depicted the result of constant starvation to keep her weak.
Her once golden hair had faded into a colour more similar to brown.
Her illustrious ties to nature had been severed long ago.
And her once full heart was now empty.
A loud clicking sound from the other side of the cell interrupted her silent stewing.
She didn't need to turn her head to see just what was happening or what had caused the noise to occur.
"Are you going to behave yourself today?"
The voice of a man spoke out to her.
He had a distinct accent which joined onto his sneering tone.
The young girl didn't move an inch, nor did she speak.
She stayed perfectly still, her knees hugged tightly into her chest with her head placed down to rest on her crossed forearms.
But her position was interrupted by a firm kick landing on the side of her left ribcage.
The girl was now lying on her side, coughing wildly and taking in staggered breaths to replace the air which had been suddenly expelled from her lungs at the impact.
"Answer to your King", the man yelled.
"My answers are never to your liking, Your Majesty", the girl finally spoke.
The final two words left her tongue with a sharp spit.
They used to leave her tongue with a cheeky intention.
"Then I advise you to change your ways, girl", the man warned before lunging forth to grab her hair violently, forcing her head up and her eyes to meet his.
He had dark brown eyes which looked purely black with the limited light to show otherwise in the cell.
His short brown hair trailed down the sides of his face to join onto a pointed and well-cut beard.
His thin lips were pulled into a satisfied smirk looking at the young girl whose title he had stolen.
"Now, are you going to behave, or do I need to provide some ... ulterior motives?" he asked her.
"Bring it forth", the girl replied through her strained breath.
The man let his smirk turn into an eery grin as he shoved her back onto the stone floor.
"Bring it forth", he repeated to two other men stood at the thick metal door, both dressed in silver armour, helmets covering their identities.
They quickly disappeared around the corner and returned with a large black pot filled with soil.
The so-called 'King' stood back and crossed his arms, remaining silent to witness the event.
The young girl picked herself up from the floor, ignoring the searing pain in her side which joined onto her other inflicted injuries, and approached the pot placed in the centre of the room.
The sound of her iron chains rattled across the stone slabs as she walked.
When her eyes took in the sight of the brown dirt within the pot, she stared at it with pure distain.
YOU ARE READING
The Golden Witch || Peter Pevensie x OC
Fanfiction✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ Valera. The Golden Witch. The Daughter of Summer. ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ When Peter Pevensie enters a magical world he didn't expect to meet such a girl. There was a prophecy told of the Golden Age. But there was also a second part to that prophecy. ...
