10th of Frostfall, 4E 201

How many days had I spent rotting in this wretched place? How many beatings had the Thalmor given me? How much longer would it take for me to die?

I let my head droop, legs giving out beneath me. Me entire weight rested on my wrists, painfully shackled above my head. I still had blood dripping from the fresh set of wounds those monsters had given me. I barely recognized my own body now, all covered in scars and bruises. My ribs protruded through my pasty-white skin, and the hair across my chest was stained with blood, like the hair on my head. I shuddered to think of what my face must have looked like; if it looked half as bad as it felt....

Now's not the time, Etienne, I told myself, wincing as I tried to get my feet beneath me.

The prison's door swung open on its creaky hinges, and I froze in place. Those monsters were already back. Rulindil and his lapdog Eralain. They had returned for more information, even though I had already told them all I knew. Why would they come back so soon?

I looked up as they opened my cell's door. Eralain stepped in first, prodding me with a long, sharp stick while Rulindil came in after him. I winced as he drove the point into my shoulder, dangerously close to breaking the skin.

"Ready to talk again, cur?" asked Eralain, taking the stick away just before it drew blood.

I let my head fall, and my legs nearly gave out beneath me. "Stop. Please. I don't know anything else. Don't you think I'd have told you already?"

In response, Eralain backhanded me across the face. I had gotten so used to this form of abuse, I almost didn't feel pain. Almost. "Silence. You know the rules. Do not speak unless spoken to. Master Rulindil will ask the questions."

My gaze flickered to Rulindil, and I cowered under his cold stare. He snorted once and crossed his arms over his chest. "Let's begin again."

I could not help the shudders that ran through my body. Oh, gods, please. Anything but this again. "No... for pity's sake.... I've already told you everything—"

Growling, Eralain lunged forward and slammed his fist in my jaw. "You know the rules."

That first punch was only the tip of the iceberg. He hit me, again and again. He created new bruises and deepened old ones. He opened up past wounds; blood coated his hands and my body with every strike. I yelped and moaned at each blow, trying and failing to keep quiet.

After watching the brutality for several minutes, Rulindil stepped up and waved his hand. Eralain stopped and stood back, shaking his bloody hands out. "Start at the beginning, as usual," said the Master Thalmor. "If you persist in this stubbornness, I'll have—"

My head shot up. "No, wait! I was just... catching my breath.... Why wouldn't I tell you again? I don't even know anything...." I sighed, breath rattling in my throat. "There's an old man. He lives in Riften. He could be this Esbern you're looking for, but I don't know. He's old and seemed kind of crazy. That's all I know."

"And his name is...?"

"I don't know his name. Like I've already told you a hundred—"

Before I could finish, Eralain held out his blunt mace and clubbed me in the side. My ribs cracked, and blood instantly sprayed from the wound. I let out my loudest scream yet.

Rulindil had been standing close enough to me that my blood spattered on his robes when Eralain hit me. His nose curled as he casually wiped it away. "You know the rules. Just answer the questions. Where can we find this nameless old man?"

I gritted my teeth, fighting the urge to scream again. "Like I said, I don't know! I've seen him down in the Ratway. Maybe he lives down there, but I don't know for sure."

Rulindil sighed, as if disappointed. "That will be all for now. I must say I continue to be disappointed in your lack of cooperation. I hope next time you will do better."

Tears welling in my eyes, my head shot up to look at my elven oppressors. My voice was on the verge of breaking as I said, "What else do you want from me? I've already told you everything. Listen, if you let me go I can take you to Riften, show you where—"

The last thing I heard was Eralain scream, "Silence, prisoner!" before he slammed the butt of his mace into my head and knocked me out.

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"Sir, wake up," said the softest voice I had ever heard as a gloved hand lightly slapped my cheek. "Wake up."

Ever so slowly, my eyes fluttered open. I couldn't see clearly at first, but I blinked a couple times, and everything came into focus. Kneeling over me was a young woman, barely out of girlhood. Her curly, raven-black hair spilled around her round face, and her sapphire eyes shone with kindness and compassion. She was beautiful, even with that long, puckered scar underneath her right eye.

"Easy, easy," she said, holding me steady as I tried to sit up. "Easy. I may have a healing potion for you. Just relax."

"Who are you?" I asked. I reached up and held her thin wrist in my hand.

"My name is Ylva. I'm going to help you get out of here, I promise. Can you tell me what the elves wanted to know, exactly?"

I sighed and laid my head back. "Something about a guy named Esbern. I didn't know what they wanted exactly. They never said. They just..." I sat up a little and looked at my broken body. "They liked to get physical."

"They won't hurt you anymore. Do you know if there's a way out of here? The way I came in is blocked."

"There's a trapdoor." I pointed my shaking hand towards the cell's door. "Past there. They dump bodies down it. Could lead somewhere."

"Thank you." I watched her fish into her bag. After a short time, she smiled a little and pulled out a small healing potion. She popped the cork out of the glazed bottle and held it to the my lips. Her free hand cradled the back of my head as she helped me drink the potion.

I drank as deeply as I could, the warmth of the potion spreading through my body. It made me feel reinvigorated, strong, alive.

It didn't take me long to finish the potion off. Ylva helped me lay my head back down on the soft bedroll beneath me, corking the bottle again and putting it back in her satchel. After that, she threw the bag's strap over her shoulder and started to get up.

She wasn't planning on leaving me here, was she? I jolted upright, face twisting with fear. I reached for her, hoping that she wouldn't leave me if I took her hand. "Where are you going?"

"Just for a look around. I'm not leaving you. I won't."

"Please...." My eyes began to flutter closed, head falling back to the bedroll.

"Don't you leave me, you hear?" Ylva grabbed onto my shoulder, squeezing it firmly but gently. "Hey, what's your name? Can you tell me your name?"

"Etienne... Etienne Rarnis."

"All right, Etienne, you and I are going to get out of here, even if I have to carry you out on my back. You hear me?"

I nodded, eyes opening and locking onto her. "I hear you."

"Listen closely. I'm just going to have a look around. I won't be long. When I get back, I'm going to help you get out of here."

"Thank you... Ylva."

She smiled weakly at me and stood once again. "I'll be back shortly."

She had just tried to leave the cell when the prison door opened again. I couldn't help the gasp that escaped me; I had come to associate that sound with misery. Ylva jumped back into the cell with me and crouched down low. Whoever designed the cells must not have expected people to use them as hiding places. Otherwise, they would have made them with bars reaching from floor to ceiling, and not halfway.

"Listen up, spy!" called a voice nearby. The footsteps grew closer, now on the main level with us. "You're trapped in here, and we have your accomplice. Surrender immediately or you both die."

"Never mind me, Ylva," said another voice, tone defeated and resigned. "I'm dead already—"

The guard hissed, making the other man fall silent. "Silence, traitor! Move. Slowly."

Ylva readied her dagger, creeping slowly towards the cell door. On the other side of the wall, the Thalmor's footsteps got closer to our hiding place. When the steps halted right outside the open cell, Ylva sprang up with the grace of a sabre cat and launched herself into the closer guard. He never saw the attack coming. From where I lay, I couldn't see everything, but I was able to see Ylva land the killing blow on the Thalmor guard she had attacked. They both fell to the floor, Ylva's dagger still lodged in the guard's chest.

"Filthy Nord!" screamed the second Thalmor guard. The sound of lightning crackled through the air, then I watched as the shock spell slammed into Ylva's body. She dropped gracelessly to the floor, writhing and twitching as the electricity ran through her body.

"No!" said the man who had spoken earlier, Ylva's ally. The shocking ceased as the sound of blows being landed filled the air. I tried to see what was happening, but I couldn't.

After a second's delay, Ylva shot to her feet and grabbed the fallen Thalmor's war axe. "Get down!" she screamed, her arm swinging behind her head.

I listened as the punching ceased, then watched as Ylva threw the war axe. I listened to the telltale thunk of a blade embedding itself in a body. After the sound of an armored body clanking to the floor, all was silent.

"Let's get out of here, for pity's sake!" said Ylva's accomplice. "There will be others coming soon, no doubt."

"Get to the trapdoor and open it," said Ylva. "I'll be right there."

A Bosmer ran past the entrance of my cell, not even bothering to give me a look, while Ylva disappeared to another part of the prison. She came back after a short time, stuffing something into her satchel as she knelt by my side.

"We have a problem," said the Bosmer, tone worried, as Ylva hauled me to my feet. She threw my arm over her shoulders and braced her hand against my chest to keep me steady. I let out a quiet moan as we stepped out of the cell, my legs weak and wounded. As she carried me out of my cell and towards the trapdoor, I saw the bodies of not just the Thalmor guards Ylva had killed earlier, but also the bodies of Rulindil and Eralain. If my mouth hadn't been so dry, I would've spat on them.

"What?" asked Ylva when we stood behind her Bosmer ally.

"The trapdoor, it's locked. What do we do?"

"Search the bodies for a key."

He went about the disgusting task while we waited by the trapdoor. Ylva helped me sit down while we waited for the elf to find the key.

When he found it, he rushed back to us, unlocked the door, and wasted no time jumping into the chilly cave below. I looked over the edge, my throat tightening when I saw how far the drop was. I couldn't make that jump alone. I would break every bone in my body without help.

"Malborn, do you think you can catch Etienne?" called Ylva, moving me towards the door.

"I think so. Hurry!"

Ylva wrapped her arms around my chest and lowered me through the door slowly. Malborn readied himself below, giving Ylva a nod when he was ready. She let go of me, and I felt a momentary sense of weightlessness as I dropped. Somehow, Malborn managed to catch me. We both collapsed into the snow beneath, me on top of him.

"Gods, you're heavier than you look!" said Malborn as I rolled off him. While the snow beneath me was freezing cold, it soothed my wounds, and a weak but contended sigh escaped me.

After a few seconds, Ylva fell into the snow next to me, sending white powder flying everywhere. She dusted herself off as she stood, white flecks of snow still in her black hair.

"Where'd you pick this poor fool up?" asked Malborn, pointing a slender finger at me.

Ylva came over to me and helped me sit up, her hand rubbing my bruised back gently. "He was a prisoner beneath the Embassy. I wasn't going to leave him there to die." She scoffed. "Besides, if I had, you'd be dead."

"How'd you figure?"

"If I hadn't stalled to rescue Etienne, I would've been gone before the Thalmor brought you down there, and they were using you to draw me out of hiding. So, if I wasn't hiding, then why would they need you?"

The wood elf's face blanched. "I see your point. Can we please go? I'm freezing my backside off here."

Ylva nodded, then turned to me. "Can you walk?"

"I... I think so."

She nodded again, holding me under my arms. She heaved me up, allowing me to lean my whole weight on her. She braced my chest again and held my arm over her shoulders.  "Easy. Up you get." Then she turned back to Malborn. "Let's go."

And with that, Malborn, Ylva, and me—with Ylva's help, of course—walked out of the cave and into freedom.

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I honestly feel like Etienne doesn't get enough love. I mean, the poor guy was the Thalmor's prisoner for who knows how long! I really wanted to show this story from his perspective. I mentioned it in passing in both Walk in the Shadows, and in an earlier chapter of this book. I thought it would be interesting to see what it was like from Etienne's perspective, so that's where this came from. Hope you enjoyed! There will be a part two to this!

A few weeks ago, I posted another "Ask the Authoress!" chapter here and requested for people to ask me questions. Well, I haven't gotten that many questions this time, so I'm thinking about taking that chapter down and republishing it later. Unless all of you rush over there and start asking me questions after reading this chapter, of course.

As always, I'm open for requests! As of right now, I don't have any that I need to write, so I have plenty of time on my hands. Feel free to make a request!

Until the next adventure! Love and sweetrolls!
~WG 💙