I can see that the general's last statement in the first chapter may have been a poor choice of words, especially the word consensual. I hope this didn't take too much away from the character. I assure you he isn't supposed to be seen as retarded anonymous commenter #1, though thanks for making me laugh.
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Images of torture raced through Malia's mind, everything from a simple leather whip to a bed of nails. She had never been physically punished before and she whimpered at the pictures her overactive imagination had delivered to her.
"I'm sorry, ok. It won't happen again. I was s-scared." She tried to beg.
He looked briefly irritated at her response. "Where's the bravery, little girl?" She swallowed excess saliva in response. He sighed as if she wasn't being entertaining to him anymore. "You know, now that I think of it, let's hold off on that punishment. I need a little time to think of something creative enough anyways." He chuckled and left the room, the heavy door clanging and locking behind him.
She returned to the middle of the cell and sat. Her stomach was turning and if she'd eaten anything that day, she was sure she would have vomited. She closed her eyes and concentrated on breathing deeply. She pretended she was home. She had never really found anything she especially excelled at in the unit. Her mother liked to sew and talk to the women of the unit. Olivia was fascinated by the medical happenings of the unit and liked to help people, as did their father. It wasn't that Malia wasn't good at anything, she was good at a lot of things, she just didn't have a passion for a job the unit had to offer. She liked to work though, and was expected to hold her own in the unit, so she would do whatever odd jobs needed done.
She liked the variety and felt like she was useful. She would help anyone who needed it, except for the medical staff.
Malia thought back to the one and only time her father tried to introduce her to medicine. She was sixteen, Olivia had been spending all of her time in the hospital since she was twelve, but Malia wasn't fond of blood and gore so she generally stayed away. On that day though, the hospital was busy. Her father knew she didn't like it but he needed some help. He asked her to do some of the easier jobs around the hospital, maintenance type things to calm her nerves a little while he worked. Once she was more at ease he asked her to come see a patient who needed a dressing changed. The patient was a cook in his late twenties. He'd been working when he and another cook collided; the other cook had been carrying a skillet to the industrial sized sink. The grease from the skillet splattered all over the man's right arm. Malia's dad began to unwrap the dressing over the man's bicep. Malia could remember exactly how his arm looked covered in red bubble and skin hanging from some of the larger blisters that had popped. The smell was awful and filled the room to mix with the typical antiseptic smell of the room. Malia vomited all over the floor and continued to dry heave for minutes after. Her father dismissed her, apologizing for asking for her help, and didn't require her assistance in the hospital again.
She was awoken from her daydream by the door opening. Clearly he didn't expect an hour would get her used to his crazy-ass plan, did he? She couldn't wait to see how he was going to force her to be consensual. She jumped up; ready to fight if she had to, though she knew it would be futile. To her relief it was Finn. He walked into the cell with two women behind him. The women were both dressed in simple black dresses that were loose fitting and not flattering. One woman was older; her salt-and-pepper hair was pulled up into a bun. She looked to be holding a platter of food. Malia's stomach audibly growled and Finn smiled, quite a beautiful sight. How had she not noticed how beautiful he was before? She remembered his striking blue eyes, but it was the only feature that was overly pretty. When he smiled though his handsomeness became obvious, unlike General Cain who was openly gorgeous. She mentally slapped herself; she needed to stop thinking like that.
"Hungry?" Finn asked, his serious countenance returning. She nodded and the second woman, a red-haired woman close to her own age, rolled a cart closer and unfolded a standing wooden tray and a chair. The older woman placed the platter on the tray and removed the lid. The delicious smells assaulted her nostrils and she closed her eyes briefly in appreciation.
"Sit." Finn said.
She sat on the cushioned chair and looked over the contents of the tray. She wasn't sure what most of it was, but it looked delicious and fancier than anything she'd eaten in the unit. She ate her dinner as the women got sheets and pillows off of the cart they'd wheeled in the cell and made up the ugly mattress. Finn handed her a water bottle that she drank quickly. She was so hungry she hadn't had time to feel awkward at having three strangers watching her eat. When she was done she felt much better and the women loaded the table and chair back on the cart. They pushed the cart out of the room and Finn stood looking awkwardly for a moment.
"You'll sleep here for tonight." He said apologetically.
"Yeah, I figured," she gave him a small smile, "and, apparently until I get used to General Crazy's nefarious plan for me."
He laughed. "Cain's not that bad. I've known him my entire life. I wouldn't say he's all bark, but he's got a long fuse. However, I wouldn't test it any if I were you." He was the general's friend, she could tell. How could this decent soldier be friends with the sadistic general?
She looked at him questioningly. "You agree with this twisted bastard's plan? You do know he expects me to willingly sleep with his brother?"
He looked apologetic again. "I know this isn't going to mean anything to you right now, but just know he's trying to help his brother. All of this is for his brother. You'll like him, I promise, everyone loves Tristan. As for his plan, it isn't nearly as nefarious as he would have you believe." He paused briefly. "I wish I could tell you everything, but it's not my place, and it's not the time." He gave a sad smile and left the room, locking the door behind himself.
She had felt better having Finn as a potential ally, but realized now that he was firmly in the general's camp. She fell asleep hugging the puffy white down comforter feeling utterly lost and alone.
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Cain knocked on his brother's door. He was feeling drained from the activities of the day.
"Come in," Cain heard Tristan say through the door.
