Captivated by a Highlander

Chapter 19 - Fragility

I wish I could tell you what happened, but I don't remember much of it. All I get now are clips of thoughts and glimpses of blurry images. I don't know where I am now, and I don't think I ever will because no one ever takes this blindfold off of me and my arms are always bound behind my back. It was almost always silent. I deduced from the stone floors and walls, and straw that was scattered about the floor, that I was in a cell of sorts.

There must have been a window somewhere that was always kept open. There was this constant, cold draft that ran through my holding cell. It always chilled me to the bone. I was in this constant state of shivers that never seemed to end and sometimes very serious fits of shivering would wake me in the middle of the night. It was always hard to sleep afterwards. But what made it even harder to get sleep were the nightmares. They plagued me every night, and I was occasionally blessed by a peaceful dream about Kain, and the family that we might one day start together. The dreams I had about him... I always woke up in tears. Here I was, dreaming about my lover, and I could not give him what I wanted to save for the day we married. If we married.

Kain, where are you?

That man, that bastard and poor excuse of a human being, took my virginity. He raped me while I laid unconscious on the ground. And I only knew this because of the extreme pain I felt between my legs when I woke up. What else could it have been? Now I lived in fear of carrying this bastard's child and being forbidden from ever being with Kain. He was his father's heir, and Isaac explained to me once that he could not marry a woman who was carrying another man's son.

Someone would come down in seemingly equal intervals of 3 to give me something to eat and drink, just to keep me alive, I suppose. Every time it was the same thing: a couple pieces of some stale bread and some water. The man who fed me was young, I guessed, based on the sound of his voice. We could hardly communicate since I still knew very little Gaelic, but I knew how to say simple things, such as yes, no, please, and thank you; I could ask what day is was. He had a kind sounding voice, it was soothing, and his laugh was this sort of deep rumble that he never quite let out.

You remind me so much of Logan, it hurts.

One morning (or night?) I woke up to the sound of shouting. It jolted me awake from my sleep. I hit my head on the wall, too. Perfect. Was something wrong? Was Kain coming for me? After a couple minutes, I realized it was just two people arguing, and I sighed, rolled over, and tried to fall back asleep.

Their shouts never stopped until I could feel the gentle warmth of sunlight on my lips.

How long have I been here?

I felt my body growing weaker every day. I could tell without looking at myself that I was losing weight. I was always hungry. It made it hard for me to keep the cold out of my body. The shivers continued endlessly. I moved about my confinement, following the warmth of the sun. I thought this would help me keep track of time, but it was nearing winter, and the days were growing shorter.

Sometimes, someone would come in my room, shout something in Gaelic at me, and wait only a moment for a response. I always responded, saying "I don't understand!" That was when the beatings began. Punches to the head that made me black out. Smacks to the face that burned my cold cheeks. Kicks into my stomach that knocked all of the air out of my lungs and sent me to the floor. A foot against my back, keeping me on the ground, and making it hard for me to recover. Hands around my throat the lifted me off the ground,

All the while, I was blindfolded. I never knew what was coming. Every time someone came into my cell, I immediately broke out into tears and screamed, "I don't know anything! I swear! I don't know anything!" I never saw my attacker. I could never see his face

Will I ever see again?

The man who fed me three times daily started coming only twice. This threw off my track of time, too. He never came in equal intervals anymore, it was always random. He started feeding me warm soup, which was a blessing only for about 10 minutes after he left, because when the warmth faded, my chills were even worse. I tried to ask him his name, but he wouldn't answer. He started talking less. Only plus: he brought me a shawl to wrap around myself at night. It wasn't too thick, but at this point it was better than nothing.

Today, my bindings were replaced by chain cuffs around my ankles. I still sat in the corner of the room that seemed to get the most sunlight. The metal felt like it burned my skin in the cold. I tried to remove my blindfold, but it was tied in such a complicated and tight knot in the back of my head that my weak hands couldn't untie it.

I am so hungry.

Today, I realized something. Why am I alive still? If I didn't mean anything to these bastards, then why keep me alive?

The day is growing closer to an end, and I sat awake, humming to myself as I played with the frayed ends of my tattered dress. My fingers gently pressed against the bruises on my abdomen, chest, breasts, neck, and face. Daily, I started searching for broken bones. My lip was split and my right cheek was always swollen. If anything was broken, I think it was my nose.

Footsteps passed by me, then all of a sudden someone kicked the door and startled the hell out of me. I screamed and covered my head with the shawl, fearing that I would be struck next. A cruel laugh followed and the footsteps continued down the hallway.

That was when I heard it. Shouts. Screaming. The crash of wood above me. The clang of metal.

Has he finally come for me?

I jumped up, only to immediately collapse to the floor. My weak legs could not support me. I have only eaten once today, and it's been at least 15 hours since the meal before that. I pushed myself into the furthest back corner and curled up. I waited in darkness, counting my breaths, counting the seconds.

Suddenly the door burst open. I cried out in surprise and covered my head.

"Christine!" A voice shouted.

Angus?

Hands grasped my shoulders and I winced. My shoulders were bruised from all of the times I've fallen back on the stone floors. The cold metal of a knife touched my cheek and and flinched away, more out of instinct than fear. Then, the knife slipped under the blindfold and cut it loose from my face. I blinked rapidly and closed my eyes. The room was bright with torchlight.

"Christine, Christine, can ye' see me? Lord, ye' are as cold as ice, lass!" This second voice was familiar, and worried.

Raymond?

I turned towards the voice and opened my eyes just slightly, but then my eyes filled with tears when I realized who it was. I collapsed against his chest.

"Angus... Raymond," I wept. "Thank God... it's you... thank God, thank God..."

"Shhh... Hush, now, lass," Angus murmured into my hair as he lifted me into his arms. "Let us get ye' out of this forsaken place."

I am safe.

I am alive and safe.