Shorter chapter this time, but i like where it ended ;)
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Surprisingly they both slept soundly, jolted from their slumber by the unlatching of the heavy cell door. John tensed his arm around her and relaxed when Gerald came into the cell, closing the door behind him. He arched an eyebrow in their direction but didn't speak of them lying together indecently. Elizabeth sat up and scooted to the edge of the table quickly, her legs dangling down over the edge. John sighed in annoyance at the interruption as he got up off the table slowly, feeling very stiff from the cramped sleeping position. At the loss of John's body heat she noticed that the temperature had dropped drastically overnight, the heat wave finally having passed. She pulled the thin blanket, still warm from their body heat, around her shoulders.
"I hate to bear bad news, lass, but today we go swimming." Gerald snarled in disgust at the suggestion that had clearly been the minister's.
"What does that entail?" She asked as John clenched his jaw and went still.
"It is believed by some, including the sadistic bastard of a minister, that a witch is unable to be submerged in water as the devil will prevent his servants from the rites of baptism." Gerald spat his words out in anger.
"If I sink in the water, I am proven innocent?" Elizabeth asked hopefully.
"Somehow, I think he still will choose not to be convinced." John growled.
"It will require you to be under the water for a period of time, lass." Gerald explained slowly. "He will believe a witch can force herself down for a while at least, using trickery. And it will require you to be tied." He added gently.
She gasped when she realized he wasn't talking about simply being dunked in water. She looked over to John who looked infuriated, adding to her fear and comfort in an odd mixture. "But, you'll be with me?" she asked softly.
His eyes softened when he looked at her and nodded. "Always."
She smiled softly and nodded slowly in resignation. "When?"
"I'm sorry, lass," Gerald answered, "now."
She nodded slowly and slid off the edge of the table to stand, leaving the blanket behind. She had a premonition that being cold was going to be a theme of her day. John walked towards her with the rope he had restrained her hands with before, she put them out in front of her, already becoming accustomed to being tied up and led around.
He stood close and leaned down to kiss her forehead gently. "So brave, my sweet. Remember, I will be with you?" She nodded, accepting any comfort he had to offer to salve the anxiety she felt. She most assuredly did not feel brave, but knowing he would be with her for this helped her tremendously. If not bravery, she had acquired something related to it in the small time she had known him, some reliance she hadn't known she possessed. He tied her hands tightly with the rope. "You understand that I will not be able to show you kindness in front of them?" a darkness crossed his expression and he looked almost ashamed. She nodded gently.
"I know it will not feel natural, lass, but you should avoid taking a deep breath as it will cause you to float. Try and release the breath from your body as you go under. Do you understand?" Gerald asked. She nodded, unable to form words at his suggestions, making the entire ordeal seem much more upon her. "I'm sorry I have to say this now, as it causes you distress, but you understand we will be interrogators out there, where people are watching."
"It's alright, I understand." She answered softly. They walked out of the cell together, Gerald leading with Elizabeth following and John closely behind her, holding the rope that bound her hands. Her feet were bare against the cold stone of the jail floor and she wasn't surprised to see frost crusting the tips of the grass as they exited the building. It was just after dawn and fog laid close to the ground. Elizabeth involuntarily shivered as they walked along the path, joining the minister and a group of men that waited, including the blustery Mr. Bishop. Thankfully no one spoke at the moment, as they all walked down the path that would lead to the river. She clenched her toes against the cold packed dirt of the path when they started to go numb from the cold. Most of the men wore layers of clothing and coats, except John who was still in the same shirt and breeches he'd worn last night. She was only in a thin shift and dress, no shoes, no coat, no stockings. They walked into the woods along the path, which were shrouded in darkness at this time of morning. Between the shadows, fog, and frost, the setting matched perfectly with her inner turmoil and anxiety.
It didn't take the group long to approach the river that bisected the tall trees. Her feet slipped repeatedly on the increasingly slick path that was covered in frosty decaying leaves overlapping a thick and cloying mud. John pulled the rope up, as she nearly fell, but did not help her. She understood that he would have to keep up the facade of witch hunter, but she couldn't deny that even the appearance of his indifference hurt. They walked along the river bank until they reached a wide area where the water was black and looked deep. Elizabeth clenched her jaw and resolved that she would not cry or tremble with fear in front of these men, who would take pleasure in that. She looked back towards John as he came around to her with a length of rope, she wasn't sure where it had come from.
"Remove her clothing first." The minister demanded. "It is not beyond a witch to sew heavy items into the fabric to assist her in this trial. They are masters of deception." He spoke loudly for the small crowd of men that stood behind him, nodding in agreement.
John's jaw clenched and his eyes darkened, filled with hate. She saw the struggle he endured to control his rage, she saw his restraint nearly break, before Gerald spoke, strategically diverting attention away from his nephew.
"Yes, of course, minister." Gerald laughed. "Johnathan, surely would not be much troubled in the task, yes my boy?"
She looked up at him fearfully, but knew that he wasn't able to deny the request. His face was once again shielded into an impassive expression. She looked down towards the dirt in shame as he quickly unbuttoned the simple dress and unlaced the shift and roughly pulled them down her body, exposing her pale skin, still covered in healing scratches. She crossed her arms across her chest as much as possible with tied hands, and tilted her hips away from the small crowd of men to shield her naked pelvis. Her eyes teared from the overwhelming sense of shame that vied for her attention against her equally unbearable fear and anxiety. Her skin was covered in gooseflesh from the cold and she began to shiver.