WAR | Timothée Chalamet

14 | A Willing Sacrifice

Y/N
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Where was I?

I found myself standing in the middle of a field, a grey sky spanning as far as my eye could see. I felt a chill run up my spine, as a cold gust of wind slipped through the trees and up against my skin.

"Hello?" I called out.

No response. I took a step forward, my bare feet tickling against the grass. The place didn't look familiar, but for some reason I felt like I had been here before. In front of me was a hill, the climb steep and rocky.

Something was at the top of the mound, but it was too far and too sunny to see. Picking up the ends of my dress, I began to stride up the hill.

As I neared, I began to notice it was a large slab of stone. Squinting my eyes, I took a final step, my vision finally clearing.

It was a gravestone.

Timothée Chalamet
Beloved king and husband

No. No, this can't be real. I collapsed down in front of it, my hand trailing along the stone.

He couldn't be dead.

_

I jolted up from my sleep, dripping with cold sweat.

What the hell did I just dream about? My eyes groggily scanned the room, my head banging with pain. I was still in my dress, but the room looked completely unfamiliar. Everything was engraved with...gold.

I forgot I was still in Frey. I rubbed my eyes, dread filling my stomach. Just then, I heard a knock on the door, and I flinched.

"Come in," I squeaked out, still trying to process everything that happened.

I watched as the door pushed open, and Henry's figure stood in the hallway.

"Get out," I frowned, slumping back onto the bed.

He laughed, but still came in anyways. Jerk. Much to my distaste, he pulled a chair beside the bed, sitting down beside it.

"So, how do I put this bluntly," he said.

"I told you to get out."

"My castle, my rules."

"Just get on with it then," I frowned, "what do you have to say?"

He sighed, resting his arm on the chair. I had a horrible feeling about whatever was coming, but I couldn't find the strength to beat him up. Why did I feel so tired?

"Well, here goes nothing," he grinned, blinking innocently, "you're poisoned."

"C-can you say that again?" I stuttered, "my ears are having trouble hearing your crap."

He laughed, "cherry wine? I lied."

"I will kill you," I growled, attempting to grab him by the collar.

I was just so tired... my hands missed the mark, and I accidentally started to fall towards the ground. Henry caught me, and propped me back onto the bed, my head spinning circles.

"You might kill yourself first," he nodded, "or the poison will. Who knows?"

"Why the hell would you poison me?" I coughed out.

"Because I want your husband to dig his way over here and beg at my feet."

"He will never beg for you."

"Then he can watch you die," the man smiled, "sound good?"

I fell back onto the pillows, staring at the ceiling. I was finding it hard to concentrate.

"Won't I die anyways," I exhaled, seeing stars.

"No, I have an antidote," he shrugged, "but I've already sent Timothée a letter explaining my demands."

"You're sick."

"Seeing as you're the one posioned, I'll deny that."

"He'll never come," I sighed, "he knows better than to."

"That's what you think."

"Yes, that's what I think. That's why I said it."

He blinked again, before standing up, "I'll send for you when he arrives."

"Just go away."

"As you wish."

He disappeared into the hallway, shutting the door closed behind him. My stomach churned, and I flipped onto my side, now staring at the wall.

All I could do now was wait.

_

dis book almost over oh no