Hanif

The food was bland as usual. But at least it was better than what they served me in solitary. I didn't know what it was supposed to be; maybe some sort of soup? I swirled the contents of my bowl distastefully, trying to ignore the odd chunks and lumps floating about.

I took another small sip, frowning as the salty and cold liquid hit my lips. Did it even have nutrition in it? Unlikely. Honestly, I was surprised they even fed us at all.

The majority of inmates were sentenced here for life, with no way of earning a shorter sentence. I was one of the few exceptions, which was probably why others always picked me for a fight. It didn't matter; I could best them all in a fight anyway. Well, unless they teamed up against me. I fought best one-on-one.

My stomach and nose flared up with fiery pain in that moment, as if in agreement. I released a groan through my teeth, taking the time to find a more comfortable position for my ribs.

My nose, on the other hand, was destined to ache no matter what I did. If I breathed, it hurt. If I chewed, it hurt. If I opened my mouth, it hurt.

The pain was exhausting. I did all I could to dwell on other things, and not the possibility of infection, internal bleeding, or the slew of problems that could very well come as a result.

As I finished up my stew, my gaze wandered the room. I watched other inmates carefully, on the alert in case any should decide to approach me. I wasn't in a mood for a fight, and I was prepared to leave before anything started.

"Get up."

I swiveled in my seat as a commanding voice spoke up from behind. My eyes met a dark uniform, and rose to meet the scruffy face of a guard. I held back a sigh and turned back to my food, disinterested. Couldn't I get one moment's rest in this place?

I dragged a finger across the wooden bowl, but before I could bring it to my lips, a hand grabbed the back of my uniform, pulling me backwards.

Thankfully, I had been expecting something like that. I dropped my bowl and flipped around before the guard could grab me again. Then I drew back my fist and slammed it into his jaw. With a grunt, he stumbled back a few steps. Keeping my expression calm, I turned and sat back down.

Was it a stupid move? Probably. But the consequences would be worth it. I had to keep up my reputation in this place, after all. It didn't matter what those sorry excuses for guards wanted; I wasn't going to be a passive dog, not even in this place.

The footsteps and voices of other guards approaching told me I only had a few more seconds of peace. I waited patiently until the footsteps were right behind me. Then I rose from my seat to face them.

Two guards had their swords out and pointed at my chest. The other two--one who was still recovering from my fist-- stared at me with disgust. I scoffed at the caution they took with me, feeling proud of it. It had taken me some time to earn such a hard reputation in this place.

"Hands on your head. Bend over the table," the soldier nearest me barked. I cast him a long, bored stare before complying. I knew this routine well, and I also knew what happened if I didn't listen. My body ached too much for me to want more pain.

However, I thought ruefully, they might just give me a beating anyway.

My ribs ached as I raised my hands to my head and bent over the table. A moment later, a hand shoved my face against the wood, causing hot, fiery pain to erupt in my nose. I hissed and turned my head against the hand as the soldiers grabbed my arms and pinned me to the table.

I squeezed my eyes shut against the pain in my nose, waiting for the blow. It came a second later by the handle of someone's sword, hitting me in the back of my head and sending me into unconsciousness.

{~*~}

The pain hit me as I began to shift out of the darkness. My nose, most likely crooked again, burned with renewed vigor and a steady pounding had taken up residence in the back of my head. The pain made it hard to think, but I was able to push some of it away as I opened my eyes.

At least it wasn't too bright...

I was in a room I hadn't been in for a few weeks, but it brought a whole new sense of dread to my mind. A rock settled in my gut as I shifted, feeling the chains locked around my wrists and ankles securing me to the wall of the cell. Or perhaps it would be better called the torture room, as labeled by the other inmates. Personally, I would call it "your worst nightmares come alive" room. Having experienced plenty of horrors in this place, I had no desire to be back here.

And that brought a new question to my mind. Why was I in here? What had I done this time?

Unfortunately, they seemed in no hurry to tell me why I was in here, and time passed slowly. I distracted myself by looking around the small, bare room, counting my breaths, and then by counting the stains on the floor. There were plenty of them, and soon I lost count.

Just when I felt I could take no more of this silence, my legs burning in agreement, the lock on the door clicked. I waited as it slowly opened, half dreading and half relieved at whoever would enter. If only to get a moment's rest after standing for so long.

Then my least favorite person entered. The Warden. His tall, dark clothed figure would be ominous and threatening to anyone. But he didn't scare me. However, I could admit that he was perfect for this job.

The Warden entered the room with several other guards and another figure who I didn't recognize. It was a young woman around eighteen or so, who looked completely out of place in this hole. She was practically glowing, her red-gold hair smoothly pulled into a braid down her back and her green eyes sparkling in the pale light. She was wearing polished armor and silver gauntlets; a long broadsword was strapped to her waist.

My eyes flicked to the insignias on her uniform. The king's personal guard. And not just that, but a Virtuoso, by the looks of it.

The dread in my stomach grew heavier. Now I really was worried. I had only interacted with a Virtuoso once before, when they caught me thieving and brought me before the Anax for judgment. That Virtuoso had been a tall, bulky man. Nothing like this little girl.

I waited for one of them to speak first, my gaze unflinching as it passed from person to person. The Warden stared right back, his eyes promising violence. But the Virtuoso seemed to purposefully avoid my gaze, although she didn't appear afraid. Her demeanor conveyed a cool indifference.

I shifted, my chains clinking as I searched for a more comfortable spot. My muscles protested the movement, but I kept my face devoid of all emotion.

Finally, the Warden spoke up, his voice just as grating as I remembered. "Go ahead and inspect him, if you wish." The Warden wasn't talking to me, obviously, but from the disdain in his voice I wouldn't have thought he would be speaking to the Virtuoso. They were the puffed up guards of the Anax, after all.

The Virtuoso stiffened in response to the Warden's words, stepping forward to face me at last. As her emerald eyes met mine, I was momentarily distracted by her beauty. She really was beautiful, even if I hadn't seen a woman in several years. Before getting caught, I had known plenty of women, and none of them had ever been close to rivaling this woman's beauty and strength.

The woman seemed to be taking the Warden's words literally as she stared at me without a word. I stared back, refusing to let her or anyone else see me squirm. Just get on with it already, I wanted to say.

"What is your name?" The girl said at last. Her voice was soft, high and lilting compared to the rough grating voice of the Warden. It held no emotion whatsoever, and I was mildly impressed at her control.

When I didn't answer right away, one of the guards stepped forward and sent his fist into my jaw. My head jerked to the side from the blow and I waited a moment to move, letting the pain roll over me along with the nausea. When I had control of my stomach once again, I lifted my gaze and met her's squarely.

"What is your name?" She said in a tone that told me she didn't appreciate having to repeat herself.

I sent a glare in the direction of the guard who hit me before grunting out, "Hanif."

"And last name," she said without blinking.

I rolled my eyes. I didn't know what she was doing, but this was stupid. The Warden probably told her all about me, including my name. "Nnamani." It was strange telling someone my name after being referred to as everything but it for so long. I had become acquainted with all sorts of titles in my years here.

"Why are you in here, Hanif?" Still, the girl was unmoving. I scanned her again, partially in amazement and partially in appreciation. My gaze stopped at her hands which were resting at her sides. Her left hand wasn't clenched, but the muscles were taught, several of them twitching like she was doing everything in her power to give a false appearance. A tell.

Lazily, I dragged my gaze back to her eyes. "Because I got caught." I flashed her a cocky grin, ignoring the pain it sent dancing up my nose.

The guard stepped forward again and raised his fist. But before he could make contact with my poor face, the Virtuoso raised her hand, stopping him. He stepped back obediently as she crossed her arms.

"What skills do you have?"

Skills? What sort of interrogation was this? I scoffed. "Why do you care?"

This time, she didn't stop the guard as he planted a fist in my left eye, knocking my head back against the wall and adding to the debilitating pain. I blinked furiously, trying to clear the stars from my vision as I swayed against my will.

"Skills." A one word order for me. One that told me she was running short of patience.

"Thievery," I ground out, doing the best I could to keep the pain from my voice. My head lulled forward against my will, my vision still fuzzy.

"Is he to your liking?" The Warden, his tone laced with malice, asked the girl. My confusion only grew as I tried in vain to overcome the pain in my face.

"We shall see. Inspect him for injuries," the girl ordered, and I lifted my head enough to see the two guards approaching me.

"Don't touch me," I growled, forcing myself to stand even though every bone in my body protested it. The guards didn't even hesitate at my words, one of them grabbing my ratty shirt and ripping it off my back. I tried to struggle, but the chains made it impossible. The other guard pressed a hand against the black and blue of my stomach, right on top of my injured ribs. The pain was instantaneous, and I lurched forward, the chains the only things keeping me upright as I shouted and swore at the men to get their hands off of me.

My vision blackened around the edges as the guard pressed against my ribs again. The other guard yanked my head back and grabbed my nose. This time, I couldn't stop the cry that was wrenched from my mouth. Thankfully, the pain didn't last long as my vision faded and I lost consciousness.

A/N: Okay, so wow, this was quite the descriptive chapter. And a little bit nasty... *cringes* My poor baby! :( But I hope you enjoyed it anyways! Are you starting to see some pieces fit into place? :D