After Empire of Storms

Chapter 9

Aelin scowled at Cairn, trying to carry herself with as much dignity as possible while staring at him upside down. 

"I'm surprised anyone would want to come to this shithole of a fortress." Aelin laughed and shifted, the iron rings clanking against each other as she stretched. Cairn simply smirked at Aelin's restrained form, snipping off another lock of her hair and stepping back to admire his work. Aelin's hair now barely grazed the bottom of her neck-- shorter even than the time it had been cut but the Valg prince in Mistward. 

Cairn gestured to the guards lining the walls. Maeve would take no chances with Aelin's security. Aelin's fae senses felt, rather than heard, the guards moving levers in the walls. Aelin's chained form was shifted back into a standing position, her body straightening and arms and legs extending, but limbs not pulled as tight as before. 

Aelin took this opportunity to stretch her weakened form, flexing her neck and wrists. Her cut hair and absence of the iron mask decreased the strain of holding her head up and Aelin angled her head at Cairn, who was strolling around to her front. "What game are you playing, Cairn?" Cairn only smiled, his gaze flicking up and down Aelin's chained figure. 

Cairn's hand shot out and gripped Aelin around the throat. "I do not have to answer to the likes of you." He replied, and shifted his grip to her chin, holding it tight enough to bruise, even while Aelin was in her fae form. Cairn stared directly into Aelin's eyes as he lifted the mask to her snarling face. 

Cairn reached behind Aelin's head, running his fingers through her hair while he tightened the mask, a mockery of an embrace. Aelin thrashed at the intimacy of the position, slamming her skull forward into Cairn's. A dull vibration echoed through Aelin's weakened state at the impact, drowning out Cairn's cursing. 

Aelin laughed, the noise muffled by the mask, but still too loud for the quiet room. Cairn stumbled off the dais surrounding Aelin holding his head. The iron had clearly caused more damage to Cairn than a normal head butt. 

Cairn stood and laughed. "You should've known better, Aelin." His tone was condescending, as if talking to a child who had broken a rule. Cairn turned his back on Aelin, swinging the shears from his fingers as he strolled towards the door to Aelin's left. Before grabbing the handle, Cairn spun so quickly that Aelin barely saw him move, and threw the shears at Aelin.  

The shears narrowly missed Aelin's fingertips and impaled themselves into the stone wall to her right. "You're lucky Her Majesty said no blood today." Cairn said, nearly growling. "But don't worry, I'll be back." Cairn's eyes sparked with the promise of pain. 

Aelin closed her eyes, thankful for the single moment of rest. She had been shoved from torture to torture, and spent all of her nights restless and healing, locked in the iron coffin. Her moments of peace were few and brief. 

Maeve had approached Aelin every morning while her guards removed her from the coffin, at the center of Cairn's torture room. Or when she woke up, as Aelin had not seen the light of day since she had been on the boat. 

Maeve would stalk towards Aelin and ask, "Where are my keys?" When Aelin didn't deign to respond, Maeve would wrap her in her dark power, squeezing tighter and tighter until Aelin was screaming in unfathomable agony. 

But she had yet to break. And she would refuse to betray her friends until the end of her days. I will not be afraid. The five words had become a steady chant in Aelin's head over the past days. She had no concept of time, and no way to keep track of the days. The small meals were given to Aelin irregularly, and, frankly, Aelin did not see a point in keeping track of her imprisonment. I will not be afraid. The words kept Aelin from surrendering to her aunt, giving in to the pain.