Guinevere sat in a corner of her prison cell, quietly, so that no one would pay attention to her. It had been about three months since she had been there. She felt filthy and could use a shower, but after so many days being in the cell, she could care less. All she wanted was to see the sun again, smell the flowers... Oh how she missed the smell of flowers! She remembered that horrible day like it was just yesterday. It still seemed a bit unreal to her, but then she looked around at the other prisoners, and realised that this was her reality now. Most of the prisoners looked even worse than her. They were at the verge of dying, and they didn't give a damn. She figured half of them had been here for years and had given up all hope of ever getting out of the place they now called 'home'. The fey prisoners all looked indifferent, like they had always known they would end up here and had accepted their fate. The humans however, never stopped crying or screaming. Except for Guinevere. Guinevere had always been the tough one. When everybody else complained, she would keep quiet. When everybody else quit, she kept on going. Giving up wasn't in her dictionary. She would never give up trying to get out of here. It was more difficult than she had thought though.
The fey that guarded her and her fellow prisoners, wasn't easy to fool. She had tried tricking him, which was rather useless. He had immediately seen through to her. One time, she had tried to attack him, which she regretted at once. The fey, who was called Shadow, was extremely fast and had pulled his sword right away. As she had heard of the rumors about him being a brilliant sword fighter, she had thought it best to retreat. All the other attempts she had made all ended in disaster as well. If she was a different person, not 'Gwen the Brave' as many of her friends had called her, she would definitely had given up by now. But she was not a different person, she was 'Gwen the Brave', even though she wasn't feeling particulary brave today.
In the far distance, she heard a child yelling for his mama. A lump formed in her throat. She couldn't believe how ruthless the fey were. Kidnappig a child and locking him up in a place like this! If she ever did escape, and she strongly believed she would, she would get out everyone else, even the other fey who- though she didn't want to admit it -scared her a bit, or she would die trying.
Footsteps approached and Shadow appeared. Guinevere didn't feel like trying to get out of her cell today. The cut on her leg that Shadow made with his sword during yesterday's attempt wasn't fully healed yet, so if she did manage to escape, she wouldn't come very far.
Shadow's dark eyes peered at her with no emotion, though Guinevere thought that she had seen some expectation in them. It could've been her imagination though. Sometimes she daydreamed that everything had been a dream, or that she got out, or was rescued. But she quickly got pulled back into reality by an agonizing cry.
Guinevere sighed. Today was no good. She decided to get some sleep and see how her leg was the next day.