Ayla growled as she hit the floor unable to balance her fall. The grimy stone dug into her sides and the thin night gown she had been wearing did nothing to keep the cold of the cell from her skin. Azzar was pushed in after her, still standing. He taxed their guards with an angry look as they slammed the door.
Sighing she did her best to sit up again. With her hands tied behind her back that wasn't easy but she managed to scramble on her ass and lean against the uncomfortably moist wall. She let her head rest against it in defeat.
"What now?" Azzar asked, kicking against the cell door. Ayla only shrugged. There was nothing to do, bound and locked up like this. Azzar clumsily sat down next to her. "Guess we're stuck here."
Again, Ayla didn't answer. Logically speaking she knew it wasn't his fault, but some angry, vengeful part of her still wanted to blame him for everything that went wrong in her life. So, she decided, better to stay quiet than to snap at him. Or so she thought.
"You're mad at me." It was a statement, not a question. Ayla sighed again.
"Why should I be?"
"For once you shouldn't be. But you are." Her resolve cracked.
"Fine, yes I am mad at you. I am mad at everything right now." she snapped, regretting it immediately afterwards. Not too long ago she had vowed to herself to never let him influence her like that again but still, every time he so much as breathed in her direction she was seconds away from either smothering or fucking him. And neither was a good decision.
"Aha. Well, being mad won't help us so why don't you get it out of your system so we can start thinking logically." Azzar proposed. Ayla groaned in annoyance.
"I'd love to stab you but I really don't have..." The sentence trailed into nothing.
"Don't have what? A knife? If you had that I'd ask you to cut us loose after you're done stabbing me." Azzar snorted. Ayla moved her legs around feeling the hem of her night gown tickle across them. At first, she wasn't sure but then she felt the sudden poke through the thin linen. Her emergency blade.
"I might have a knife." she grinned at Azzars surprised look and nodded down to her gown. "Its sown into the hem for emergencies."
Azzar barked out a laugh: "Oh you're even more paranoid than I thought. I love it." Then he got quiet again. "But how do we get it out?"
Ayla frowned. That was something she hadn't thought about. Usually it would be no problem to pierce the thin linen of her gown and get the blade out but with her hands behind her back she wouldn't be able to reach it. She shifted her wrists but the rope sat tight. A sigh escaped her at the only possible solution.
"You're gonna have to get it out behind your back."
Azzar frowned as well. Even though he always exclaimed how bad he was at anything to do with slight of hand, she knew he could be quite talented when he wanted to be. She licked her lips at the lingering memory. Groaning at the strain on his wrists he turned until he sat on his knees, his back to her and fumbled around to get a grip on her nightgown.
"Hey!" she complained as his long, thick fingers slid between her legs a little too close to her crotch. Or if the situation were different, not close enough.
