On My Honour

Author's Note: This is my first try on a new idea. Forgive the awkward ending and please critique.


I stare down at the hand blanketed by my own. It's always been pale, the color of cream, but now it is practically translucent. My fingers twitch, wanting to kill everyone who has hurt her, but the twitch dies down with the realization that fighting now will only make her death bloody and probably incite my own. Metal bands are keeping her secure to the table and I am not strong enough to rip them off. I watch as the girl attached to the hand tries to move, tries to fix her arm in a way she can grasp my hand. Blood springs forth as metal digs into her wrist. I quickly stop her from wriggling.

“Zan...." Her voice is a rough rasp as if she hasn't had a drink of water in days. When I look into her eyes, I do not see the brightness I love so much. Only a dulled grey sits as if drained of life.

"I've failed," I think as my heart rips in half. The one person I lived to protect is dying. The tightness in my chest worsens with every passing second. After all we've been through together. It can't end now. My face gets hot and my eyes sting as tears threaten to fall.

“They promised, Xania,'' I whisper to the girl who is going to die. I had been the perfect captive as long as they had left Xania alone. I threw myself down for my liege and they accepted the trade. My health for her safety. They had promised not to hurt her, but several of what I call ''days'' ago they took her away from me; they dragged her out of our shared room and refused to tell me why. Neither the profanities I spewed nor the damage I did to myself and the sparse furniture had changed their minds.

I knew what they wanted though. After nearly a half year of imprisonment, it is impossible for them to want anything else from us; they want me to spill my guts. Maybe they realize that Xania doesn't know the information they are after. Maybe they realize her parents aren't going to pay ransom for a daughter who disobeyed them. Maybe, maybe not. One thing is for certain: They’re doing this to break me.

“We both knew...." Her body is so tired and her mind is so out of it. Whatever
they used to drug her is taking more of an effect every minute. They want to make me suffer by hurting her before they kill her. Any moment now a guard is going to come in and inject her with a toxic cocktail of drugs to send her into an endless sleep.

"They promised," I repeat. My voice is a whisper that conveys the silent rage inside me. I know I shouldn't do this on her death bed, but I can't stop the typhoon of injustice I feel. “They can't do this! You can't die! I won't let you!" Tears flood my face and I desperately search this godforsaken room for something to fight with. Nothing but clean, shined concrete flooring and glistening white walls. I've failed myself and I've failed her. I let go of her hand and tangle it in my short blond hair. The people here chopped it off in a pixie cut months ago and it is just now to chin level. Squeezing my head, I try to stop the disappointment and pain swirling inside of me. Desperation enters me and I struggle to remain standing. “I won't let you die! I promised myself I'd keep you alive!"

A broken cry of, “Stop!” makes me freeze. Tears flow down the sides of the young girl's face. My heart rips into even smaller pieces and the hands of guilt clutch them even tighter than before. I'm such an idiot, I was so busy thinking about myself that I forgot to consider how she felt right now.

“I’m so sorry, Xania, I'm sorry I failed you. Please don’t hate me.” I know she doesn't like it when I beg like that but I cannot help it.

“Don... let me..." She's forcing the words out." You can't stop.... You deserve...." I give her a moment to continue, but by the fresh tears rolling out the corners of her eyes, I know she can't. Reaching up, I gently wipe away the salty trails and sigh as I lower my head to her hand and place a kiss on it.

"I don't deserve anything except death if you aren't alive. Maybe if I hadn't have been so selfish, we could have escaped all of this." She starts violently shaking her head, opening and closing her mouth like a fish." Stop, Xania, please. Just let me finish. I love you. You know that, right? You are the only reason I want to live. You always tell me how I shouldn't throw my life away for you, but I want to. I want to die if it means protecting you. I know your life means more than mine. However, I made that stupid promise to you...that I wouldn't trade my life and information for you to be set free..."

I take a moment to let out a sob, my forehead resting gently on her hand." They don't realize that even if you die...I won't tell them a thing. In fact, I'll fight until they kill me....If I knew what to say to change their mind without breaking my promise, I'd do it in a heartbeat... I guess this is our death bed. That's a good thing though, right? They won't get any secrets out of us ever again.... And I'll keep my promise to you." A moment of silence passes. Xania purses her lips, a gesture she always seems to use. I simply lower my head to hers and tenderly kiss her lips causing them to relax and meld against my own.

“No!" A loud shrill voice pierces the atmosphere making me jump back from Xania. The door swings open and a woman I've seen before hundreds of times, clad in professional business-like attire and sensible heels stomps towards me." Why you little brat!" I don't move, but instead brace myself for her actions. Her bony hand wraps itself in my hair and drawls out an involuntary shriek when she jerks her arm sideways." If you don't start talking, girl…. I’ll-- I’ll torture her! Don't worry. She won't die. Just hurt really badly for as long as it takes for you to break!"

Fear makes me stay still and the woman in hysterics calls for a guard who appears in less than 5 seconds. Too much stuff is happening to process. The guard easily subdues me and places handcuffs tightly around my wrists. Soon, I'm being half-dragged down a hall with a guard carrying a semi-conscious Xania. I see many doors with covered windows and pass a lobby area with one woman working a desk. I don't think I've ever been this way. The realization that they're leading me somewhere new is terrifying. The woman clacking along abruptly motions for the guard to stop. She produces a keychain hooked onto a lanyard from her pocket. Then she unlocks a medical cart near her and pulls out a plastic package with a needle enclosed. We keep going and shortly reach a room with an ominous "Keep Out" on a plaque beside it. When the door opens, I lunge towards Xania, wanting to at least be near her as long as possible.

"Where do you think you're going, brat?!" With that, I am jerked back by the woman. She pushes me to my knees and a second guard who was in the room comes over to hold me down. "You have one chance to answer,” The woman whispers menacingly while brandishing the needle in the packet like a sword.

“I-I...." A Civil War begins in my mind. My heart against my brain. Would I risk Xania offing herself to…save her? Would Xania really do that? Would they even let her go?

I don't even see the woman near me with the needle and before I know it, my body automatically cringes from a sudden pain. A black cloud surrounds me and my brain shuts down.
~~~
(Flashback/Dream?)


I am kneeling as I am supposed to, although we both know it is just theatrics for the bodyguards quickly retreating from the room. Xania is towering over me with both hands on her hips and a glare directed down at me. I look over briefly to where a devilish red dress is draped over a luxurious mahogany chair and then to where a gold-lined jewelry box had been slammed on the ground, its glittering contents now scattered across the floor. My gaze pauses longer on the many books laying haphazardly around the door. A smirk tugs its way onto my face and I feel a twinge of pride for my love. I am purposely looking away, of course, as Xania is naked except for the very distracting-- and matching-- red lace bra and underwear that she picked out from Victoria's Secret just a few days prior. The underwear are definitely begging for my attention, but I have to focus on the task at hand. I look up, meeting Xania's terrifying eyes with a stony look. She growls," I won't do it, Zandera Anne Row." Ooh, I think, using the full name are we?

We have time to go through this I hope. A plan begins to form in my mind so devilishly perfect that a new evil smirk takes the place on my face. I speak in a low seductive voice," You better hurry and put that dress on, Xania, or I'll do it for you." The reaction she has is the very one I'd hoped for. She lowers her head and blushes a deep scarlet red, instantly forgetting her anger.

“N-no,'' she stutters, embarrassed.

“Y-yes,'' I mock, standing and grasping her chin to raise it up. Her eyes meet
mine. I am now taller than her by a good 6 inches, maybe more, and it seems as if the difference is startling to her. "You need to get dressed and get this over with. Once they learn that you don't know the information they seek they'll stop this nonsense." My hands lower down her body in a parallel line until they rest on her bare hips. Her shocking grey eyes look into my own as if asking me what I’m doing.

“A-And if they don't? Eep!" She squeaks as I pull her close until her body is against mine. My hands roam over her soft skin and feel the heat coming from deep within her.

“Then I'll do whatever it takes to protect you.” It's true, I will do anything for her. Not only is it my duty, it is what I truly want to do. My lips land on the junction of her neck and she audibly shivers. I inhale the smell of fresh fruit, a scent that I know clings to her because of the body wash and lotion she used.

“Zan,” Her eyes soften and a dewy sheen takes over. I am worried she’ll cry. Her soft hands push my shoulders back just slightly. “What did they do to you, Zan….What did they do to make you like this?”

I don’t know how to respond so she spoke again, “You know they won’t let either of us go. You know they don’t care. So if- so if…..So, if they try to hurt us, I want you to promise to not tell them anything. Even though I could care less if my parents become broke, I don’t want them to die. They can’t die.”

“But I don’t want you to die.”

The next words she speaks shock me. Her voice takes on an icy tone and her eyes narrow,” I’ll kill myself if you do.”

In my mind I scream, “But I have to protect you!”
(END FLASHBACK)

~~~

I awaken some time later with a fog covering my mind. Nothing clicks in place and a desire to sleep tries to drag me back under. Eventually this desire wins, but the next period of sleep is broken with me trying to fight the drug’s effects in small semi-conscious moments.

“I am awake,” someone says. I’m sure it isn’t me since my world is still submerged in the only comforting darkness I know. I think there is a hand shoving at my elbow, but the feeling isn’t coming through. My brain starts to urge my body to function, but nothing obeys.

“Wake up, girl!” I sit up with a short, pain-filled scream. Fear courses through me and tears quickly start falling. I look up while sobbing and covering my shoulder to see a new-looking guard standing over me. My mind calms slightly when realizing that there isn’t an immediate threat to my body. Shame and embarrassment attack.
I’ve never acted like this in the year that we’ve been here. “Sheesh, calm down.” The shame is replaced by an overwhelming and sudden wrath. My sleep-dead hands ball
up in fists and my eyes begin burning.

I want to gouge his eyes out, but flashes of the recent event keep me still. “Is Xania okay?” There’s a desperate tone to my voice and I mentally wince at it. She could be dead, though. “Tell me where Xania is.” She could be gone.

“That is no way to get what you want, criminal.” I’m caught off-guard by the use of the word criminal. When did I become seen as a criminal? There isn’t much time
to contemplate this as he locks his fingers around my upper arm in a grip that’ll leave bruises. I take a moment to asses him. He’s taller than I am and has clipped shining dirty-blond hair in a color that reminds me of my own. A sign that he is new is his relatively lanky form compared to the beefed up guards that usually deal with me. It’s rare that I ever see a new guard. I have no idea why he is here; I’d become accustomed to the two brown-haired idiots who don’t do more than grunt and shove me this way and that.

“Hey! Ouch!” My hands slap at his which causes the action of him roughly pinning me to a wall with my arm behind my back. “Stop!”

“This is why I didn’t want to be assigned to you, you crazed brat. At least the others here accept their fate and comply as willingly as broken dog. I don’t have time for this.” His breath is disgustingly warm as it hits my face, and my arm is crying out in pain. “Now, do you want to eat? Or would you rather starve?”
~~

“What am I doing here?” I stare into the area where at least 20 people sit at scattered tables with trays of food. It looks like a cafeteria from a school. A few random people glance my way, but the majority of white-clothed individuals stay focused on shoveling their entrees into their mouths.

“Eating. Or do you think you’re too special and deserve your own time for this too?” He shoves me forward so I fall on my knees. The thin material of my clothing does nothing to protect me from the hard floor and I wince. I stand up and turn to the guy with fury in my eyes.

“No, retard. I’ve never been in here before so pardon my wondering why the fuck you led me here.” The guard takes a step towards me with slight confusion forming in his features. I brace myself and widen my stance. I’m ready to fight if need be, weakened or not.

“Colfer! What are you doing with her here?” One of the guards that frequently appears in my room to bring food stalks towards the man named Colfer.

“I was told to get her lunch.” This guard grips the aching arm that has been bruised twice already. I groan internally. He then looks back and forth between us two for a few seconds. This Colfer guy seems to realize he’s made a mistake.

“Her office. Now.” With this I am left standing in the middle of the now curious lunch crowd. I ignore their stairs and walk towards the procession of people, determined to seem normal and like I’m supposed to be here. My stomach rumbles, reminding me that I haven’t eat in a long time.
I’ve been to public school a few times in the past so at least I understand how the process work; I ignore the curious looks and march up to the line for food. The smell of cheap “healthy” food assaults my nostrils and I resist the urge to run away and starve myself. There are lunch ladies in a row serving food on unpleasant-looking, beige trays. When I reach one she sees I’m confused and asks in a soft voice,
“Pizza or ham sandwich?”

“Pizza,” I answer without hesitation. The pizza looks good and it’s been a while since I’ve eaten anything besides various sandwiches. She hands me a tray with cheese pizza, steaming corn, and salty-looking french-fries. My face gives away my happiness and I walk towards the end of the line. I see the person in front of me enter a number on a keypad and my brain panics. I don’t have a number or anything. I’ve never been in here before. The woman sitting in a high chair looks at me expectantly. My mouth has the decency to respond to her gaze with, “Um, I don’t have a number.”

“Well, why not?” Her tone says she is impatient. She’s rather large, round-faced, and very pale except for the red coloring her cheeks.

“I’ve never been in here before. I was just shoved in here and left.” Honesty being my choice, I drop my head and wait for her to call for a guard. I start to mourn the loss of my fries.

“Well gosh-darned, I wish they’d stop doing stuff like this.” I look up shocked at the lady as she gestures widely at no one in particular. “You go right ahead and eat sweetie, I’ll take it up with a supervisor and get you a number. New, right? Poor girl.

Any moment while I move towards an empty table I expect the guards to come storming in and rip me out of here. I’d not seen more than like 5 different people in this place before now. I am entirely confused, but the simple kindness from that lunch lady and the still hot fries on my plate are like a gift from heaven and I practically moan as I bite into one. It’s like heaven in my mouth. I bet if I bothered to open my mouth any more than to shove a fry in then golden light would be shining out it. I eat in silence and listen to the chatter around me. It’s not until I return my tray that anyone approaches me.

“You’re new here. Hey, I’m Era.” A girl stands in front of me and blocks my path. She reminds me of Xania in her shortness and light brown hair. It’s long though, almost below her waist and unkempt. I wonder how she has gotten away with it and I notice her severally ripped clothes. They look like purposeful and precise cuts. Other than having tattered clothes and hair, though, she looks polished without a speck of dirt anywhere.

“Yeah, I’m new I guess. Why am I here?” Being the manipulator I am, I decide to get information by portraying myself as confused.

Era’s face falls and she whispers, “So you can’t remember?” Her hand suddenly reaches out to grab mine and she starts pulling me back to a table. She is in deep thought as she sits in a chair next to me angled in my direction. “Listen, the only way to explain is to put it very, very bluntly. Please take a deep breath,” Era pauses and I roll my eyes but take a deep breath anyway. She looks pleased with me and continues, “This is a place where they send crazy people. Or at least mentally disturbed people. To get sent here, you had to have done something bad and shown signs of being ‘too unstable to participate in society’.” She starts to do air quotations with her hands as if mocking someone who probably has told her the same thing.

“What?” Crazy people? A mental institution. “Oh, god, it makes so much sense now. No wonder he….ugh! So not only do people think I’m crazy, but that I’m a criminal too.”
Now it is her that looks confused, “What do you mean? Do you remember?”


“Is there anywhere else we can go? Like, do we have to stay in here or what?” Era stands up and holds out her hand. Maybe I can trick her into leading me to Xania. A brief pang of guilt hits me at the thought. What am I doing here when I could be finding Xania? I resist the urge to take off sprinting down the halls.

“We can go to the commons. There’s not anything to do, of course, but we can sit and talk and it’s quieter.” She grasps my hand and starts leading me down a hall. As two guards come stalking towards me, I realize the jig is up; when they jerk me roughly away from the girl, I don’t fight.

“Hey!” Era calls. “What did she do to deserve that rough of a treatment?” She reaches for me, but I stop her.

“It’s fine, Era. Thanks for helping me.” She stands back as the guards pause for a second before shoving past her and dragging me towards a place unknown.
~~~
Xania’s POV

I wake on a freezing floor. Practically every body part hurts and my head swims with nausea. My stomach rolls and I puke onto the previously unblemished floor. Immediately I start sobbing. Not only do I feel physically horrible, but I am disgusted from puking and my heart is dead. They murdered Zandera. She died feeling as if she failed me and I never got a chance to be with her outside of this horrible place as official lovers. “Ouch,” I groan as my legs wobble upon standing. I have to get away from the puke so as not to puke again.

“I can’t!” I cry out, crashing a few feet away onto the smooth concrete. “Kill me already! Kill me!” I slam my palm onto the ground and relish the sting before doing it a second time and again after that. Eventually, blood pools around my fingernails and in a few split lines down my open hand. Nothing is worth doing. I can’t live without her. My only real friend. “Zan,” I sob out. Why didn’t I just tell them what they wanted to know? Even if the chance they’d let us go is slim, it was still a chance. Maybe they would have just thrown us out since we’d be of no use to them.

A loud sound from behind me startles me; a guard walks in. I scoot backwards into the corner because I don’t want them to voice the news that they killed Zandera again. “Kill me now! You can’t just torture me forever. Kill me.” The guard stops in front of me. Maybe for once they will listen to me. When I die, at least there’s a chance I’ll be together with Zandera….just maybe.

He chuckles, “This is the girl you were telling me about? This pathetic mess is ready to die only because she thinks her lover is dead? What cliché sob story is that?” He laughs again, and I can’t muster up anger, only a deep sorrow in my heart that brings buckets of tears. I can feel the pitiful pout on my lips, but I don’t care.

“I think Zandera is dead?” I try to put anger into my voice, but I can’t do it fully because of the crushing sadness. Why are they still torturing me?

“Stop your whimpers, your lover is alive. You, on the other hand, won’t be for long.” My heart swells and pushes more tears out. They’re lying, yet it’s such a cruel sentence that makes my heart hope in vain. I shake my head violently as he walks towards me. Sputters of noise leave my mouth as the guard yanks me up quickly by my hair. I stand there, struggling to keep my feet, and sniffle.

Then, the heavens open up as Zandera struts in and I almost smile when she trips as she catches sight of me. She’s being kept up by the guards as she regains her footing. Her smile has rarely shone as bright as it did that moment. It’s fleeting -of course- since she assesses the situation and realizes the problems, but it’s comforting nonetheless.

“Xania!” She cries out and attempt to pull away from the guards. My eyes tear up once again. The tone of her voice is heart wrenching in an unexplainable way. The guards, being ready for her antics, grab her before she can take more than two steps forward and securely restrain her body. I don’t try to fight. I know I’m weaker than my opponents, I’ve always been. Fighting at this exact moment would cause nothing but trouble. Why have they brought us here when they must think that neither of us will break?

The annoying clacking of heels catches my attention and I fairly repress a scowl as the person who is responsible for us being in this situation. The woman waltzes through the door dressed in her usual business attire and motions for the guards to let her go. I barely have a second to move before I’m being crushed against the wall and Zandera’s body. Her hand cups my head to protect from the wall and her body presses against mine. She supports my weak legs as they give out, and I’m desperate all of the sudden. I have to get her out of here. “Zan, Zan! Wait, listen to me. Listen.” I try to fight the blurring tears, but they come anyway and make it harder to get my point across. Zandera is practically attacking me, picking at me this way and that. She’s trying to see if I’m hurt and she doesn’t listen at first. I get her attention by grasping the sides of her face and making her look into my eyes.

“I’m telling them what I know.” Zandera’s face becomes hardened, unreadable. I’d learned to read the small signs over the many years, and I can usually figure everything out about how she’s feeling at the moment, but now she’s practically a statue. I’m worried, will she refuse? No, I think, it doesn’t matter. I will do what I feel is right. Suddenly I have the urge to laugh. My doing what I want against Zandera’s wishes, it’s something that I do often that drives her crazy. We’ve had fights ranging from teasing spats to full blown yelling, but it always ended up alright in the end. I guess it’s just because she’s been raised to protect me, to do what she thinks will protect me, and to put her life down for my own.

“…you sure?” I nod at her words and she turns around to address the guards and the crazy woman who looks at us unimpressed. Zandera puts me behind her, against the wall. I love it, I think as I place my hands against her back. She even makes me feel safe in a possible life or death situation. Her body moves slightly, adjusting, and I feel the ripple of muscles in her back. I resist the urge to sigh and rest my head against her.

“Hey, fucktards,” Zandera says with a surprising calmness that makes her words all the more hilarious, “Xania is ready to tell you what she knows one condition.”

I hear the snicker of the business lady as she takes a step towards us. The guards exchange glances. “Finally?” The lady asks, “After 6 months? You finally break?” Zandera tenses but remains calm. I tense too and shock fills me. Six months? Only six. I know that’s a long time, but I was certain we’d been here for far longer.

I know the best way to get this over with would be to bow down and let the woman mock, but Zandera retorts, “We’re not breaking, just growing bored of this forsaken place.”

The woman clearly dislikes being challenged. I let out a breath as she says, “I’m sure your proposition is to be let go and I’m fully willing to accept it. In all honesty, I’d grown bored of dealing with you in this ‘forsaken place’. After all, we are a real establishment and your being here disrupts the schedule.”

“Good.” My ears pick up the slight gruffness in Zandera’s voice. I rub a thumb over her shoulder blade and, after a few seconds, a little bit of tension leaves.

“Great,” the woman smirks again, clearly amused at Zan’s agitation. “Well?”

It’s my turn to speak. Zandera practically radiates “Defense Mode” as I slide out from behind her. I clear my throat and begin, “I’ll tell you everything about them…. Bank account numbers, emergency locations, the people in power with them. Everything. Just promise to let us go. You’ve won and broke us. You will know what you want and you will have no use of us.”

The woman looks at the guards beside her and says, “Finally, boys. We didn’t even have to kill one of them. Get a couple of guards ready to drive them somewhere far away. Far away.”

~~~
Xania’s POV


“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it, girl?” The lady from before brought me into what I assume is her office. Without guards, I am freely sitting barely a foot away from her. She types away at her keyboard, writing down everything I have told her.

“Are my parents going to be killed now? I mean, you even have their safe codes.” My parents are like the nobles of old times. They are extremely rich, run many companies.

“Hmm…,” she contemplates for a few seconds, “maybe.”

What happened next is oddly simple. She has me write down everything I know about my parents, verifies some of the information, makes a phone call or two. Then she sends for three guards who blindfold and bind us and star to lead us to a car. Zandera fights when they try to restrain her; she kicks and somehow manages to get out of the handcuffs they use twice. It’s me who finally calmed her down. They lead us around and -even in my blind state- I can tell when we step outside. Sunlight bombards me with heat and a strong breeze blows my hair around. I hate it and wince from the brightness coming through the cloth over my eyes.

“Zan?” I ask after we are shoved harshly. I situate myself on my knees in what I assume is the floorboard of a car. Fear suddenly grips me; I am not sure that this is really happening. What if they are leading us to our doom? What if it is all a trap?

“Xan.” I feel her scoot towards me until are knees are touching. I smile. I love the way our shortened names sound the same. There is no other sound in the car except for us. I breathe out a long held breath and drop my head.

“Ow!” We cry in unison as my head collides with hers. The innocent commotion makes me laugh hysterically and Zandera follows right behind. Her laughter is warm and deep; the epitome of happiness. I manage to lean forward until my head is on her shoulder. It’s not comfortable and there’s something digging into my side, but I want to feel that she’s real.