I sit silently between the two men in the boat, staring at the sky. As they row us to the shore the night sky begins to turn to day. The navy blue of the night fades to a bright blue that crawls across the sky.
We finally reach the shore and the large man gets out of the boat first. He slips off the large tunic and Philippe falls to the ground. He looks around, seeming quite confused.
I kneel down next to him, shackles clanging together
He finally sets his eyes on something, I follow his sightline, he looks at the prison, the water surrounding it's small island gleaming in the breaking dawn.
He turns to me, "Lavena, you look beautiful. Your hair... it's gleaming." He reaches out, pulling me into his strong embrace. "You can speak and not be afraid anymore my love. Please, let me hear your beautiful voice again."
I swallow hard, I know I spoke earlier, but I couldn't help myself, Philippe would have passed up the opportunity to escape otherwise.
I look into his eyes as blue as the sky through the mask, "I love you."
My voice seems foreign to me, something I haven't truly heard in so long. It's a bit raspy from disuse, but still there.
I can tell he is smiling behind his mask of iron.
"I love you." Tears well up in my eyes and quickly spill out. "God, I love you." I through my arms around him as best I can with my chains and bury my face in his dirty and tattered shirt.
One of the men hesitantly sets his hand on Philippe's shoulder in a fatherly manner.
We sit there on the sand of the beach for a few minutes more before the fatherly man states, "We must be going."
He helps me, then Philippe to our feet and leads us to a carriage hidden in the trees and brush at the edge of the beach.
The ride is long and takes most of the day, we reach a large country estate, similar to the one we lived in many years ago, by nightfall. Most of the ride had been silent, the men sat facing us, studying Philippe and me most of the way.
When we arrive Philippe steps out of the carriage then helps me down.
The men take one last glance at us then one motions to a maid that had been awaiting instructions. "Take them to a room for the night. We will discuss a few important things tomorrow, but for now, rest."
We follow the maid, I stay close to Philippe, jumping slightly at the sounds of a household that I hadn't heard in six years.
We make it to the room, the maid closing the door behind us. Philippe and I stand there for a moment, staring at the bed, something we hadn't slept in, nor seen since we had been taken to the prison.
"M'lady," Philipe motions.
I crawl into the bed, sighing. Philippe lays beside me with one arm thrown around my waist. In moments I am asleep.
***
I flinch with every hit of the hammer against the mask the hides Philippe's face. He sits, leaning back, making it seem as if he were using the anvil as a pillow.
A moment later I hear the clink of metal breaking. The man, named Athos as I had learned earlier today, pulls the broken lock off. He then begins to gently pull the outer casing of the mask off. Little bits of rust fall into Philippe's lap.
I move closer, my own iron still jingling as they had not yet removed mine yet. I take his hand as Athos lifts the final piece of the mask from his face.
I gasp, a smile tugging at my lips. He has matured and changed so much from when he was encased in the mask. His eyes lock onto mine, bits of hair hangs in his eyes and falls far longer than his chin, on which grows a tangled beard.
"Philippe..." I cup his cheeks in my hands, one hand stays on his cheek, as the other traces the lines of his face. The sharpness of his jawline, his full lips.
His eyes slide closed at the feeling of my hands stroking his face, "I missed your touch on my face."
Athos turns to me, "Your turn, my dear."
I take a deep breath, I fear how bad my wrists will look after the cuffs are removed. I set both of my wrists on the anvil and close my eyes.
"Would you like to get cleaned up?" Aramis, who sits behind us at a table asks Philippe.
"No," Philippe answers, "I need to be here for this."
Philippe sets his hands on my shoulders, supporting me. I flinch, shaking with Athos every hit against the shackles. I hear a loud crack as the metal on the first shackle breaks. He quickly moves on to the other. Moments later I hear the same crack. I open my eyes and look at the cracked metal below me.
"Alright, I am going to remove them one by one. This may hurt because of how your skin healed," Athos says.
I nod, looking away from my hands. Suddenly pain shoots up my arm. A scream escapes my lips as tears prick at my eyes. Philippe grips my shoulders tighter. The pain lingers as I sit there with my nails digging into the table.
"Alright, I'm about to do the other one."
I shake my head, my voice sounding broken, "No, please."
"Lavena, he has to remove it. We'll get you bandaged up when he is done," Philippe says softly.
"No! Please! It hurts!" All I can think, all I can feel is pain. I start to stand up but Philippe pushes me right back down.
"Just do it," he says.
Athos tears the other cuff off of my wrist. I scream, wailing loudly. Through my tears, I see a small pool of red on the anvil.
Moments later, my wrists had been bandaged by Aramis and I was only a puddle of tears.
"Why did the removal destroy her wrists?" Porthos asks.
Philippe, holding me gently in his arms replies, "When she was shackled the cuffs had just come out of the fire, they were red hot. The cuffs burned her, and I guess, when she healed up, her skin must have adhered itself to the cuffs."
Porthos and Aramis nod. My tears dissolve into sniffles, and I find the two men looking at me curiously.
"Would you like to go get cleaned up, Philippe?" Athos asks.
Philippe nods, "I'll be back in a moment, my love."
He releases me from his arms and follows Athos out of the room.
"Lavena," Aramis catches my attention. "How did you end up with Philippe in the prison? That is no place for a nice young lady such as yourself."
"I had lived with Philippe for many years before we were imprisoned. He took me in when we were young after my parents were killed. We were to be married.... betrothed just before we were taken." I tell the two men.
Aramis looks at me sadly, "I'm sorry, my dear. I can't imagine how difficult it was for you."
I shrug, picking at the tight knot of my bandage, "It's alright."
A few moments later Athos comes back into the room, "He is ready."
Philippe steps into the room. His face is clean and had shaved, his hair neatly trimmed but still shoulder length and brushed out of his face. He has changed, matured, but still the same Philippe I remember.
"He looks..." Porthos gasps.
"Just like the King," Aramis answers.
YOU ARE READING
The Man in the Iron Mask and the Girl in the Iron Chains
Adventure(Inspired by the movie 'The Man in the Iron Mask') He was imprisoned unfairly and enclosed in an iron mask. She was forced to care for her lover in the dark Bastille. Then, six years later, a miracle occurs. They are broken out of prison by three h...
