ᴛʜɪʀᴛʏ-ғɪᴠᴇ

465 26 4
                                    

CW graphic depictions of violence!
Happy reading :D
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Robb awoke splayed on the floor and in pain.

His cheek rested on something cold and wet. When he lifted his head with a groan, eyes straining to focus, a string of drool dangled from the corner of his mouth. The movement sent a stab of pain through his head and Robb hissed. A puddle of blood and spit had gathered on the floor below his head. The crystal ball lay on the floor a few steps away, just beyond Robb's outstretched hand.

Gods, his head hurt. Robb worked his jaw in an effort to alleviate the ache, but that just made it all worse. He had no idea how he had missed the pain in his mangled cheek, let alone lain on it for any extended period of time, but he was regretting it now.

Robb groaned again and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. He had to focus.

The puddle of blood meant his wound had reopened, perhaps even torn further while he had been interrogated by Sauron. He must have been screaming, Robb thought: in pain, in fear, in protest.

The headache was easy to explain, at the very least. The fresh bloodstains on his tunic were a bit of a stretch for his brain, but he vaguely remembered his muscles seizing up the second he had touched the crystal ball. Perhaps that had ripped his other wounds back open, as well.

Something hard hit Robb in his ribs. The pain barely even registered, and he wondered abjectly whether his nervous system had reached its limit. Still, he rolled with the blow as best he could. Now on his back, Robb could see Saruman glaring down his nose at him. Robb let his head fall to the floor with a sigh.

"What," he mumbled, his speech slurred. Maybe Robb should be more afraid. He really was defenceless, now. But he was tired. And anyway, after having Sauron in his head, Saruman seemed almost harmless.

"You should be grateful, Robb Stark," Saruman said, "that Sauron found you so interesting."

Robb barely had the time to process that statement before Saruman pointed his staff at him.

"I would have been quite glad to dispose of you," he continued, his eyebrows drawn together. "Alas, the Dark Lord has found another use for you. And therefore he wants you undamaged."

"Wait," Robb yelped hoarsely, "what are you-"

Once more, he found himself bound in place, unable to move. This time, though, it was accompanied by a faint tingling sensation that worked its way up his body. It became harsher when it reached the arrow wound in his side, turning into a fizzy, bubbling numbness. The same thing happened with the thin cuts in his throat and the raw skin of his wrist. It was strongest when it reached Robb's cheek, the numbness so intense it almost became painful again, but that just meant Robb could finally feel what was happening. His injuries were closing up, skin knitting itself back together without bandages or stitches.

Undamaged, Saruman's words echoed in Robb's mind. Sauron wanted him undamaged. The prospect sent shivers down his spine, but this one gift horse Robb would not look in the mouth. Being healed gave him a chance at escape. So long as he never fell into Sauron's hands again, he would be just fine.

When Saruman was done, the only pain that remained was the persistent thumping of his headache in time with Robb's heartbeat.

Slowly, wary eyes never leaving Saruman, Robb got to his feet. His hand found the plinth the crystal ball had originally sat on behind him, and he leaned against it. Although he was no longer in pain-aside, of course, from the headache-his legs still felt weak, like those of a newborn fawn.

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 || 𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐁 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐊Where stories live. Discover now