The Awakening

Chapter Sixteen

"I'm supposed to wear this?" Avelon's voice cracked as she held up the scant pieces of brown fabric, her disbelief mirroring in her wide eyes.

She lifted the pieces of brown clothing, the fabric swaying mockingly between her fingers, promising nothing but exposure. A hot flush crept up her neck as Brianne's silence echoed louder than words.

"I-" Avelon tried to convey her emotions. Words failed her, and with a frustrated toss, the material landed in a small heap on the bed. The room felt suddenly smaller, the walls closing in on her as her surroundings settled like a weight upon her shoulders. The walls seemed to lean in, whispering reminders of a life left behind in Uisce due to her recklessness and rebellion.

Brianne's voice, usually so steady, wavered just enough to betray her own distaste. "Balor's rules are clear. We're here to entertain, not to be comfortable."

Dark circles had managed to take refuge under Brianne's usually bright hazel eyes. Avelon knew she bore those same marks.

Avelon turned away, her arms wrapping around herself protectively, a barrier against the creeping chill of vulnerability. "Rules or not, it feels like a punishment for something I did not do- that we did not do. Are we supposed to sell our bodies- For his entertainment?" Her voice, a mix of anger and defiance, broke the pretence of calm she no longer felt.

Avelon had no intention of prancing around in clothing that could at any moment reveal things that were only meant for the bedroom. Especially not for the benefit of entertaining Balor's guests. The thought had her face heating to a point of near fever, alongside her simmering rage.

Brianne stepped closer, her hand reaching out but stopping short of touching Avelon's shoulder.

"If it helps, I always try and picture the guests in more awful attire. Imagine them in rags, or less." Brianne suggested, a wry twist to her lips.

Avelon met Brianne's gaze, a warm smile on her face and a silent understanding passing between them. They were more than what Balor expected of them. The cold realization that Brianne had endured far more evenings of humiliation and torture, had Avelon's face settling. Emotion ceasing for the second the thought had taken hold. Another sort of understanding flashed in Avelon's eyes as Brianne studied her, waiting. Brianne nodded silently and picked up the piece of scattered fabric, handing it to Avelon.

"We'll survive this night, like all the others." The unspoken truth hung between them—if Brianne could endure, so could Avelon.

"They could at least have chosen a more appealing colour." Avelon snapped in distaste, opting to steer the conversation in a different direction, deflecting the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm her.

With a huff of irritation, Avelon began shuffling out of her very worn white shirt and the only pair of pale brown pants that she owned. Her clothing, since arriving in Teine, had been limited to the orange shirt she was given her first day here, a white shirt and pale brown pants. To her utter embarrassment, she was given no undergarments. She supposed, she could use the awful pieces of fabric she held now, as undergarments after the event passed- the amount of coverage the scraps of material had granted would suit the category.

"What happened to my nightgown?" Avelon thought abruptly as she dressed, suddenly remembering the piece of clothing she had worn on her arrival.

Brianne's eyebrows turned downward in a frown as she watched Avelon, confusion very evident on her face.

"Oh you know," She gestured with her hand in front of her, "When I first arrived here."

Brianne clicked her tongue, sticking a loose strand of her brown hair behind her ear.