"Has it really been four weeks since you've arrived?" Vartan sneered as Vellum began the daily procedures of torture by strapping Lucy's wrists high above her head, and strapped her ankles on the table.

"As enjoyable as it has been girl, if I were you I'd start talking if you want to live." He stated, impatience very evident on his ugly face.

"You haven't even asked me anything." She whispered weakly, still trying to keep her pride.

"How dare you!" Vartan yelled and gave a nod to Vellum giving him permission to strike her..... In the throat.

"What," she groaned in pain. "Do you want to know?" Lucy croaked.

Ever since the beginning of the third week, Lucy had been brought into the small musty torture room daily and for about three hours a day, she was stretched in ways you could never imagine by a mechanism called the Belt.

The way it operated was simple.

The victim was laid on a rectangular table, chained to the table by his ankles, and wrists.

The torturer would then crank the belt, and then pulled the victim in two separate directions.

It's design, to drain the physical strength of the victim, while causing excruciating pain as it pulled bones until they cracked, and stretched muscles until they bled internally.

After four days on the belt, Lucy no longer had enough strength to stand.

But that hadn't stopped them, Vellum simply grabbed her chained ankles and had drug her on the jagged stone floor.

By the time they reached the torture cell, Lucy's riding outfit had ripped from the contact of the sharp floor and left her back completely exposed, a thick stream of blood running down her back from the deep cuts and jagged rocks she had been drug upon.

Her head wasn't any better, she no longer had the strength to lift her head above the ground as she was drug, and it left her with a raw scalp with a thick flow of crimson running down her neck.

She never thought she would make it out of the third week, but by Aslan's mane, she somehow had.

But now it was the fourth week, and she was ready to be rescued, or escape.

"Everything...." He smiled wickedly. "Where is the weakest spot in the ran-"

He was cut off by someone pounding on the heavy wooden door.

"Oh I almost forgot." He chuckled wickedly, and opened the door.

Two men appeared in the doorway mysteriously. She couldn't identify them, because of them having dark heavy cloaks and hoods covering their faces, but she did see what looked to be a soup pot of something boiling they carried, which meant there was a kitchen, and if there was a kitchen, there had to be female servants, so if she somehow managed to change out of the Narnian clothes she was in now, or the remains of it more like it, she just might slip by unnoticed.

But she couldn't do that now, she was losing strength each day and she couldn't even lift her own head.

Of all the times, I chose this time to leave my cordial in my saddle.

She thought grimly.

But the thoughts quickly vanished when she felt Vellum pull her skirts high up to her thighs.

She saw her entire childhood flash before her eyes. The day she played that little game of hide and seek, that first tea time with Mr. Tumnus, the battle, her coranation, the countless and endless adventures she had with her siblings, and last, she thought of Aslan. She thought the Harfangian was about to take her innocence, but she was wrong. She couldn't lift her head to see what was happening, so she clenched her eyes closed as she thought it was the end. But something happened that was unexpected, even for someone as observant as Lucy.

Suddenly she snapped her eyes opened and let out the most frightened agonized scream as the two men slowly poured the boiling oils on her exposed legs.

She screamed and yelled and cried out, and tried to move and get out of her restraints as she felt her legs swell and her very skin being scalded, but she knew it was for naught, because out of the corner of her eye, she saw the gleam in Vartan's eyes as the men poured the boiling water on her, and she knew he was on a bloodthirsty rampage, that only pain and blood could cure.

"Bring more water!" He called to the men in the cloaks once they ran out, and then looked at Vellum.

"And bring the pliers Vellum, because it looks like we've got a guest who wants her nails gone." He smiled wickedly at Lucy sending chills down her spine.

"Yes father." Vellum replied and followed the servants out, leaving Vartan and Lucy alone in the dungeon.

As scared as she was, she knew one thing. When they returned, it was going to be a new wave of pain.

"It is just you and I now." Vartan whispered venomously in her ear, breaking the silence.

"And it looks like I've terrified the Valor right out of you." He laughed.

She hissed in pain.

"How do you know," she breathed. "Who I am?" She gritted her teeth, as the fiery feeling in her legs intensified.

Vartan chuckled chillingly.

"They claimed the Valiant Queen was unmistakably beautiful in body and soul." He said sensually.

"Rubbish. How did you know who I really was?" She asked pretending she hadn't acknowledged his intent.

Vartan slowly leaned back with a chuckle and began to slowly pace in the small cell as he answered her.

"Intelligent too, very well I'll tell you." He sighed. "My spy's overheard the king call you the ancient queens name when you two were perched up in a fruit tree the day we captured you." He answered confidently. "The plan was to get rid of the King himself, until I was told the king was infatuated with you." He turned to her and smiled. "And that's when you became the plan."

"The king is not infatuated with me, there is simply a bond between us that circumstances created. A bond much deeper and stronger than you could simply understand." She finished confidently as she clenched her eyes shut in pain and let out a groan filled with suffering.

"Then how do describe him trying to kiss you?" He asked, not even paying her a care of her pain.

Keep your anger controlled Lucy, don't argue with him, it will make you appear weak and if your weak, he will not answer.

She was so angry he had meddled into her affairs that she inwardly refused to answer him. But she would not refuse to ask questions.

"What have we done to deserve such hatred and wrath from you?" She asked angrily as she lied on the table motionless to keep her injuries at the minimum of pain.

He turned to face her and broke the distance between them.

"You have nothing to do with this, you are merely the bait." He grinned chillingly.

"What has Caspian done to make you hate him so?" She asked sympathetically not able to help herself as she looked at the man before her, knowing there was someone underneath.

Vartan looked at her motionless for a moment and Lucy recognized the battle within his soul evident on his face.

He suddenly swung away from Lucy, put his arms behind his back, and began to slowly walk around the table Lucy lay upon in circles.

"My father Vadin, was the last king of Harfang, and was in equal ownership of The Wild Lands Of The North with Caspians grandfather, Caspian the eighth."

Vartan began.

"They were friends and often had feasts and visited one another often.

My father and his councilmen wanted the same equal ownership he had with the Narnian king that he shared with the Wild Lands, and seeked part ownership of Narnia to build a great empire, but Caspian's grandfather wanted that country all to himself." Vartans face grew hard as he continued. "Caspians grandfather betrayed us, and my father seeked revenge. He built an army, but Caspian's grandfather had already found out our plan. He murdered my father in his own bed one night and left like a ghost never to be seen again. And since my father was murdered, he never made a will, and never said in the law that I was heir, so the councilmen took over and threw me into the lowest position in the army, as if I was an illegitimate son." His face grew hard as he continued. "And while I was being thrown around by the council, Caspian's grandfather, announced his eldest son as king of Narnia, and the old man died soon after. While Caspian the ninth's life was filled with ease, I was working hard up in the ranks and soon won most of the soldiers affections."

He smiled and it sent shivers down Lucy's spine as he looked at her in the eye.

" I began to build an army quietly, and I was going to strike down on Caspian the ninth," Vartan chuckled icily. "But as it turns out, there was rivalry between the royal household, and Miraz did the dirty work for me. He hated what I hated most. I was going to finish what my father bestowed upon me, by killing Miraz, but that was before I knew Caspian the ninth had a son. I was going to strike again, trying to exterminate both, but then there was so much news about Narnia being in such tension because the ancient kings and queens had returned, to give the little prince heir his throne back." He mocked.

Lucy grinned.

"You were afraid of us. You knew of all the prophecies." She mocked him.

"No you stupid girl, I was waiting for Miraz and Caspian the tenth, to tear their own country apart, and then I would have stepped in-"

"But then Aslan came in sight and all wrong was made right." She stated confidently with a smile. "You fear him." She grinned then whimpered when he struck her jaw.

"How dare you!" He screamed.

"You have yet to deny it." She smirked with pride.

"I have no need to-" he was interrupted by the heavy cell door squeaking as the two men with cloaks brought a fresh full pot of oils steaming with rage likely to just have been taken from the fire.

Vartan's eyes lit.

"Oh yes, I had almost forgotten." He nodded them to come forward.

Once they were near the heavy wooden table she was lying on, they sat the pot on the cold jagged stone floor. She began to grow anxious when she saw one of the men pull out what looked to be a leather strap and attached to it, was a short medal handle with two pronged forks on each end {See pic on top} out of his cloak.

The other man tightened her chains, while the first man slowly strapped the two ended fork device around her neck.

Vartan then came around and pushed the bottom half of the skewer right underneath her throat, making it bleed, while the other end, he shoved it in right underneath her chin.

She cried out in pain and tried to pull her head back to keep the pressure off, but Vartan would have none of it. He grabbed her weak head and pushed her head upwards, making the spikes push up in between her jawbones. He was almost satisfied when she screamed, but not quite.

He walked to the end of the table where her blistered raw bloody legs were and without hesitation, began to claw and scratch at them with such passion, while Lucy was in so much pain she tried to throw her head up, and when she did, the spikes pushed so high upwards, her tongue could feel the tips of them at the bottom of her mouth.

She let out the most terrifying scream and out of the corner of her eye, saw one of the men take a step towards her, but the other one pulled him back.

Vartan laughed wickedly not even noticing what had just taken place between his servants.

He nodded to the two men, and slowly they lifted the pot high over her exposed legs which were now skinless thanks to Vartan.

She clenched her eyes shut, not ready for the pain she was about to-

"Father! There is a pathetic band of Narnians outside in the courtyard and have requested for your presence immediately. Do you think they received our message?" He asked excitedly.

Vartan slapped his son for his stupidity. "Well how else do you think they knew to come here?! And You." he pointed at the two men holding the large pot full of oil. "Stay here, and if don't, you will not live to see another day." He threatened intimidatingly.

"Yes sir." Said one with a rather suspicious Harfangian accent.

Vartan hadn't seemed to notice this, for he was thinking of far greater matters, or so he thought.

Lucy moaned in pure relief that Vartan had left, before her organs began to shut down.

From all of the weeks of breaking, starving, burning, stretching and twisting, her body finally ran out of will power.

She felt her eyes begin to roll back, but right before her eyes fluttered closed, she saw eyes the color of Arabian coffee peer over her, and she sighed of pure relief.

She whispered his name, before she went to a deep oblivion where she felt no pain.