Of Silence and Scars, Chapter 18

Hey all! Still trying to keep up with a chapter a day, thanks for your patience and comments! Feel free to comment, positive and negative welcome!

XVIII Darius opened his eyes. The dank grey walls of the prison greeted him. Rolling his neck slowly, feeling it crack and pop from the stiff mattress that was wafer-thin covering a wooden plank bunk. He rolled off of the bed essentially naked if not for the drab grey cloth pants all prisoners wore. None of the premade shirts would fit him, so he had to go without. Bloody Demacians he thought to himself as he leaned on the entrance to his roomy cell. It was meant to house four prisoners, but that changed quickly. After seven unconscious inmates had been hauled out and two died fighting him, the jailors decided to leave him alone in here. He didn’t mind one bit. He couldn’t tell if it was night or day though. No windows on his floor or the one above it seemed, because he never saw any evidence of sunlight. Candles flickered softly 24 hours a day. A third of them sat silent, long since burned out. His thoughts drifted back to when he was taken. He remembered returning home, taking his armor off and scrubbing it thoroughly. Sand had lodged itself in every crevice from his last mission. Then the knock at the door… Everything went south after that. He had replaced his armor before answering, he was careful. But when he opened the door, Leeroy was barking as a couple Demacian soldiers kept him at bay with drawn lances. Jarvan scowled at Darius and swore he would pay for his crimes, and grabbed him. Along with Xin Zhao and all those pathetic soldiers they had managed to subdue him. Letting that fanatic in to conduct an investigation had been a mistake. But he had to admit, even he wouldn’t have put it on Jarvan to kidnap anyone in peacetime. He must be spooked. A door screeched open down the cell block. Air that didn’t reek of sweat swept past him as three figures approached. The only form in the group to match his height, Darius easily recognized his primary captor. The other two were harder to discern in the dim lighting, but he eventually pieced together the face of Xin Zhao, grim and lined with concern. The final man stood in the middle, but with an authority that struck Darius and he felt the urge to kneel. The king of Demacia spoke with a thunderous voice, “So this is the famed Hand of Noxus? I can see why Jericho picked you to be his lapdog. Son, you cannot be so rash. This was not worth the political problems and defaming of our great name for one prisoner with more brawn than brains!” Jarvan huffed, “I found the culprit of the burning of our house, and the kidnappings in the Institute of War. If Swain wants his prized puppet back he will have to confess!” The king hissed, “You have no hard evidence, just a blackmail attempt that will fail! From what I know of that vile man he won’t lift a finger to save anyone at expense to his power. He will find another able body to be his lackey. Anyway, my decision is final. He is to be traded for our men rotting in Noxus. They deny it, but they are there. I know it.” Speaking to Darius instead of assessing him for once, “You. If your leader doesn’t comply with our demands you will be executed. I am giving you the opportunity to beg Swain for your life in the upcoming meeting tomorrow. If you agree, I’m sure you can convince him you deserve to live for a few measly prisoners, right?” Darius didn’t even blink. Leaning on the wall as he was before they came, he could have been a statue and no one would have known the difference. A guttural noise filtered up his throat, “Piss off, weakling.” The king was not surprised. “Is pride worth death Noxian? Is that your final answer?” Darius didn’t break his continence, “Piss off, shove it, cram it, any derogatory form of no. Take your pick.” He shifted his gaze to Jarvan, “Will you be doing the execution personally? Because if so, it’ll be awkward to see you and ten helpers lift that one axe into the air to barely cut off my head if your kidnapping tactics are any indication…” Jarvan drew close to the bars, “What are you implying?” “I am not implying a thing. I am saying that if that night you had but one less soldier my hound would chew your bones and your crown would be nothing more than a decoration on my mantle! Show all the world you are a coward as you kill a bound man!” Xin and the king dragged the flailing prince from the taunting as he yelled back, “They will see a criminal put to justice!” Darius laughed, “Bring all the king’s horses and all the king’s men, no one will restore your honor again! The Hand of Noxus will strip your armor, break your spear, snap your bones and laugh as your end draws near!” He heard the yelling fade away and eventually stop. Chuckling at his minor victory, he turned and dropped to the floor for push-ups. No point sitting around while he was trapped here. He thought of Swain. Don’t fail me now you crafty fiend.

Draven casually spun an ax as he walked with Sona. They trailed the main group to talk in private, and because Draven was staying as far away from Shaco as he could. Swain and his personal guard led the march and Urgot walked in the middle with the Demon Jester, sharing torture stories like old buddies shared good times. Those sadists should just get a room and get it over with he thought bitterly, then nearly vomited at the image he proposed. Big mistake, going to repress that one.
Sona looked at him quizzically. “What’s up?” He asked. She signed he hadn’t smiled since they left Noxus. She didn’t take him for the homesick type. He shrugged, trying to pass it off as nothing, but failed. “I don’t know, maybe I forgot to fill up on smileys before we left. Too busy packing contempt and contemplating my brother’s murder.”
She raised her eyebrows and twisted her mouth, she wanted to know what was in his head. That look was reserved for when he was hiding things. He kept what little façade he had though, doubling down, “What?”
She sighed and signed she gave up. Turning away, Draven barely saw a smile form on her lips. The pieces were coming together too slowly for the witty Noxian. She was sheathing her etwahl. That frees her hands, which means…. Hell! He barely shrunk away and grabbed her extended arms that were trying to tickle him. He hated that! The horrifying tingly torture that made limbs flail and legs fail! It was degrading to laugh like an idiot and turn red.
“Hey! Stop it! Stoooppppp! Sona I swear…”
She retwisted her mouth and stared him down, fingers grazing his side. A goofy half-smile played at his lips as he was losing his grip. “Please, my annoying boss and his shitty cohorts are right there!”
She pushed a bit harder, grazing turned to full contact. Nearly breaking into laughter he gave up, “Fine! Fine! Stop.” She released him and he shook his head. “You are relentless. Jeez. Alright, I might be a tad worried about my brother. He’s a tool, and has the social graces of an ox with the face to match. But, his ugly ass is all the family I have left. I mean who else will I invite to Christmas parties so I can make him look like a fool? Or come with me to bars so I look even more handsome by comparison? Who will screw up missions if he’s not around? You know, saying all this out loud makes me want to just say screw it…”
She signed that she didn’t believe that and it was sweet he actually admitted to caring about Darius. She was going to tell him how much he cared. 
“Hey, hey. Don’t do that! That is a bad idea!”
She began swaying side to side as she signed how excited he would be and he would give Draven a big hug and cry out his hidden feels on Draven’s shoulder. She gave him one last playful smile as she rushed ahead to the others. 
Draven jogged after her, “Oh come now, the last thing I need is that oaf slobbering and getting tears on my best fur chest piece! Sona you’re joking right?”