Mercy never comes for free
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A few days after Kell arrived at the Crystal Theatre. His facade may or may not slowly crumble.
CW: slavery, captivity, forced to perform
The girls were dancing in perfect synchrony and Kell couldn’t help but staring at them. They moved gracefully, their technic flawless and their synchrony on point. It was breath-taking and beautiful.
For a second Kell forgot why he was here. He nearly even forgot about his hand still hurting like hell despite the pain killers and the sling in which his arm rested.
The dancers leaped into the air as one and spun a complete circuit. Kell had never seen such dance moves before.
But despite all its beauty it lacked something, Kell couldn’t pin down.
“They are good, right”, Oryn commented proudly grinning. Possessively. As if the credit belonged to him.
“I have never seen someone dance like this”, Kell said quietly.
He couldn’t take his eyes from them.
“I only get the best”, Oryn said spreading his arms. “Dancers, singers and actors from all around Tharlia. I even have some aerial acrobats and figure skaters for a special winter show. But that is still a secret.” He put a finger on his lips, as if Kell knew anyone to tell.
Suddenly one of the girls tripped.
A women rushed over and for a second Kell thought she would help the girl up but then he saw her lifting her arm and slapping her with a force that knocked the girl over.
Kell intuitively made a step into their direction but a hand on his arm stopped him short.
“Don’t”, a low voice said.
Kell looked back at Oryn.
“You will keep in line and do as I say. Your hero complex is endearing but I don’t want to see it in my theatre ever again. If you help someone, I will punish them twice. Do you understand?”
Kell wiggled in his grip. “You promised not to hurt me”, Kell said. He glared at him and Oryn gave his arm a warning squish.
“I want you to keep one thing in mind, darling: mercy never comes for free.” He shoved Kell in the opposite direction. “Just because I promised you no harm, doesn’t mean I won’t hurt anyone else.”
Anger flooded Kell’s veins. Oryn had found his weak spot pretty fast. It had taken the General weeks until he found out he could make Kell do anything if he hurt another Tharlian.
“Does this conversely mean if I do everything you want, you will do something nice for them?”
Oryn starred down on him, his face didn’t change, and his voice stayed neutral. “We will see.”
Behind Kell he could still hear sharp voices and stifled whimpers.
“Now, sing, little bird.” Oryn sat down and looked at him expectingly. Everything in the theatre belonged to him. Even the performers. Even Kell.
He enjoyed his power. It radiated from him. It was disgusting.
He looked like a king on his throne when all he was was a thief and his throne built on crimes.
Kell wanted to tell him exactly what he thought, but he knew he couldn’t. Words had always been his only weapon when they took everything else from him. Now Oryn had taken even those.
A snap of his fingers interrupted Kell’s thoughts.
“I don’t want to repeat myself”, Oryn said impatiently.
Kell swallowed. He could still see the dancers at the other side of the hall. He wondered if they would hear him from that far away.
He closed his eyes. He exhaled and inhaled. He tried not to think about them. He tried not to think about the Varsennan. He took another deep breath. Then he started to sing. In the beginning his voice was small and still a little hoarse. It has been a while since he had sung last. But he soon got lost in the song. It was a Tharlian ballad and Kell had always thought it to be comforting. He hoped it could maybe bring the dancer comfort too. It had been one of his mother’s favourite songs. It had never failed to make her smile. Even in the dark days, when they had to leave everything behind and move to her sister. Kell wished he could sing loud enough, that she could hear it wherever she was. He just hoped she was still alive.
Slow clapping yanked him out of his thoughts. His eyes snapped open. He was almost glad Oryn had yanked him out of his thought. He couldn’t think of the past. It was a dangerous spiral into pain, and he did not have the luxury to appear vulnerable.
Oryn stood up. “That was beautiful”, he said. “I think you will do a brilliant job on the stage.”
“Well, I’m done. Can I go now?”, Kell said.
Oryn came closer and grabbed Kell’s arm so hard it hurt. “But if you sing another Tharlian word ever again, you will regret it.”
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