CW: whipping

"Atlas!" Hannah hissed, violently shaking me awake, "Wake up! Now!"

My flight response kicked in and I was immediately wide awake. Throwing my blankets away and jumping out of my bed, I waited for my vision to come back as the blood rushed to my head. Bile rose in the back of my throat from my empty stomach, a feeling that I was all too familiar with. It was almost comforting to feel something so visceral from my old life, especially as adrenalin was coursing through me and making my heart hammer against my chest.

Gemma was behind me, pulling off my pajamas before I could recognize her. Luna had a black dress pooled on the floor for me, and I stepped into it without being prompted.

"What's happening?" I asked, a nervous yawn escaping my lips and causing my body to shiver as I slipped my arms through the off-shoulder sleeves. I tried to rub the sleep out of my eyes, but Hannah surprised me as she pushed my shoulders down and forced me to sit back on the bed. She deftly pulled the strands of curls back together from where I had taken the pins out last night, and Luna rushed over to add on a small, black, mesh veil to hover over half my face.

I sniffled, shaking my head to wake myself up as Hannah finished my hair. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. It looked like I was going to a funeral.

"Did someone die?!" I startled, my outfit suddenly registering in my head.

"No Atlas," Hannah said more gently, taking both my hands and pulling me up so that Gemma could tighten my corset, "but it's not good. You need to go to the western courtyard immediately."

"Wha- why?" I asked, dizzy and disoriented from the lack of sleep and low blood sugar. The corset was cinched tight around my chest, making it hard to breath deeply, but I couldn't ask Gemma to loosen it before Luna gave me a firm push on my back towards my bedroom door. Hannah was already there opening it for me, and she briefly squeezed my arm before I stumbled out of my room. I had no choice but to gather my skirts messily and rush down the hallway.

When I turned the corner, I saw Fox and Corrin both exiting their rooms, looking as confused and bewildered as I felt. Fox was also in black and Corrin had on a muted grey, ankle-length dress.

"Hey," I called, rushing to catch up with them, "do you know what's going on?"

They only waited for me to reach them before they started hurrying towards the western side of the castle. I followed a step behind them, not comforted by their presence. I thought about Alex and wondered if he was already down in the courtyard, but I knew I didn't have time to go find him.

"Do you think it's the Convicting?" Corrin asked both of us, breaking the silence of our rustling skirts.

"The what?" I asked, jogging a few steps to walk next to her.

"That's only for the princes' top two picks," Fox replied, ignoring me, "and they would never spring that on us like this."

I wanted to ask more about what they were discussing, but with the pace we had kept we were already nearing the large double doors that lead outside. I feared the absolute worst, and I wasn't disappointed with what I saw.

I stopped dead, the gravel under my heals crunching as I saw what had been set up in the courtyard. I knew exactly what was going to happen; the tall pole, wooden platform, and masked guard haunted my dreams at night. I scanned the platform, which was bustling with people yet still eerily quiet. A long row of black chairs had been set up on a secondary riser behind the pole, and I realized almost every seat was filled.

This was a public whipping.

For a second I thought the plot with the princess had been found out and I was going to be canned for treason, but then I felt Silver yank my arm, shaking me out of my daze. She pulled me over to sit down between Fox and Albany who, for once, was silent. Everyone wore the same dark black and grey clothes, and I couldn't tell if they knew what was going on either, but the seriousness hung over us like a cloud.

I realized with horror that there were multiple cameras set up to face the makeshift stage. Not only would this be public to the castle residents, it was going to be televised. I felt panic grip my heart and I balled my skirts into my fist.

I leaned forward, looking up the row of chairs to see the rest of the audience. We sat a few chairs from the end and to my right were the other Elites, random high-ranking guards and officials, Turps, Silver, and then the Royal family in the middle, closest to the whipping pole.

Alex was already watching me, and when we made eye contact he shook his head discretely and mouthed 'don't' very clearly. Ross noticed him and looked at me out of the corner of his eye, giving me the same fearful but commanding expression. He also shook his head slightly, his head snapping back to the front as the king glanced over at them. I kept staring, trying to read their expressions. All three of them wore blank, neutral expressions, but I could see Christoph was tapping a finger on his thigh nervously and Ross looked like he was out of breath. There was abject fear in Alex's eyes.

Two guards marched over to stand directly in front of me. The contents of my stomach turned to water as they loomed over me and I was once more convinced that I would be the one chained to that pole. I let out a sigh of relief as they turned around, so their backs were facing me, but the feeling didn't last very long as I looked around at the other Elites.

We were missing someone.

"Wait," I started, grabbing Albany's arm and scooting to the edge of my seat, "Where's Beckii?"

As if on cue, the lone camera man gave a silent, grim signal, prompting the King's head guard to step onto the platform. His armor clanked loudly and echoed around the courtyard.

Even he seemed uncomfortable standing next to the masked guard, but after a pause he cleared his throat and started to speak.

"Last night, Elite Beckii Cruel and Palace Guard Carter Woodwork, were caught having relations in Cruel's bedroom," he started, my mouth filling with bile as I saw two guards dragging Beckii up the steps on the opposite side of the stage. Her wrists were bound with heavy chairs that had rubbed the skin on her wrists so much that I could see the wounds from where I sat. The guard gave a hard tug on the chairs, prompting Beckii to cry out.

She stumbled forward, her face streaked with makeup and tears, and hair plastered to her forehead with sweat. When she looked up and noticed the pole, her face twisted in horror and she started begging "No! Stop! Please!" she sobbed, snot running down her face.

I was already poised to stand up just as Albany reached up and tugged me back down, her nails digging into my arm painfully. "Atlas," she warned gravely, keeping her nails latched into my skin "don't do this."

"It will be disastrous, my lady," one of the guards standing in front of me whispered over his shoulder. I realized why they were here, standing in front of me specifically. They knew I would try to stop it.

I saw a guard shove a shackled man up the stairs, staging him at the edge of the platform. "For treason against the royal family, and violating the rules set out for The Selection," the commander continued, "Beckii Cruel and Carter Woodwork will be stripped of their caste and renumbered as eights."

The other Elites didn't try to hide their stares, waiting for my response to the first part of the severe punishment. It felt like the king and commander were mocking me, declaring that being an eight was one of the worst punishments that could be given.

Beckii's shrieks were grating in my ears and I felt tears running down my face as her chains were hooked into the pole. It was specially designed to attach cuffs at the top and twist them painfully tight before a guard would grab a lever and drag the persons hands down and force them onto their knees. The back of the brown, featureless dress she wore was unzipped to reveal the soft, pale skin of her back. "The traitors will also receive 15 lashes each, to be enacted immediately."

I looked over at the princes, waiting for them to stop the whipping and save Beckii. The king held a passive, emotionless expression, watching as the small girl was forced to her knees as the hook was pulled down into place. I ripped the veil out of my hair so it wouldn't block my vision and leaned forward in my seat to silently beg Alex, Ross, and Prince Christoph to do something. . . anything.

The masked guard slowly removed the whip from the box he had been holding before place the case onto the floor. I flinched as the whip unraveled and the heavy tip fell onto the wood platform with a thunk.

The flashbacks hit me before I could stop them. Stealing was five lashes, and any repeat offenses added on five more. When I had reached 15 lashes, I was at my lowest point – thin, tired, and hungry, the bleeding had nearly killed me. Beckii was naturally very lithe, so there would be no fat or muscle to cushion the blows, just as it hadn't for me.

I sat at the edge of seat and leaned forward, gripping my knees as my hands shook. "Please, please," I whispered, looking at the princes. Ross and Alex both saw the movement and looked towards me. Ross just gave me a helpless look, shaking his head to say he couldn't do anything. Alex's expression was filled with terror, but he kept his eyes trained on me as he mouthed 'no' at me again.

I twisted in my seat, facing back towards Beckii and leaning to the side to see her in between the two guards. The commander and his men had backed away, so the mask guard was the only one close to Beckii. I saw him pull back the whip.

If the princes weren't going to do anything, it was my job to intervene.

Everything happened at once. Immediately I heard a chorus of people yell my name and scream at me to stop. The rough hands of the guards pulled at my arms and dress as I maneuvered my way out of their grip. They hadn't been expecting a trained fighter, and neither did Alex and Ross who both had started running over to stop me. I was able to shove both the princes off me easily.

I grabbed the middle of the whip where it hung from the guard's hand before he had time to react. Tugging at it, the handle slipped away easily as I threw it aside and dodged right in front of Beckii, my stance strong as I held out both my arms to give her a wider shield.

"You will not," I growled at the guard, my voice shaking in fear and anger, "touch her!"

Everything was suddenly still; all the yelling had stopped, and no one was making any advances towards me. My heart was pounding, and I felt dizzy from the sudden rush of adrenalin, but my feet were planted firm and my knees were bent, ready to spring up at any angle when they came for me again. I felt like a wild animal, my teeth bared. If I could have seen myself, I would have noticed how wide my eyes were and how spastically they took in the entire platform, watching for any advances.

The guard and commander looked towards the king, and I followed their gaze.

The King was always cold and calculating, showing very little emotion even in private and at meals. It wasn't a secret where the princes had learned to shut down in public as well as they did. However, when I laid eyes on him, every muscle in me weakened and my hands dropped down to my sides.

I had never seen a person, so alight with rage. His hands gripped at the arms of his seat, and his eyes were wide and seething with anger.

"Atlas, no," Beckii begged behind me, "please, go! Don't do this!"

Before anyone could even say anything, the king had shot up and stalked towards me, fluidly scooping up the whip on his way. It looked like he was going to carry out the punishment himself, and my head swiveled around, looking for the guards who were about to remove me so he could finish the task.

I didn't realize what he was planning until he gave a roar, raising the whip up and snapping it down right at me.

I didn't have time to react. My face exploded with pain and red filled my vision. The force of it knocked me to the side, making me fall to my knees. I pressed my hands desperately to my face, trying to stifle the searing pain. I looked up with my good eye just long enough to see all three princes had jumped up out of their chairs and were locked behind a row of guards. None of them were trying to get past them. I felt like a show animal.

I screamed again as I felt the whip hit my bare arm. The momentum fully knocked me onto my opposite shoulder, but when I pulled my bloody hands away I saw a blurry image of the king standing right over me with his arm raised. Another one hit me at my hip, and I knew I had to protect my vital organs, so I rolled back onto my knees and curled up into a fetal position, my hands knitting behind my neck to protect it. I squeeze my elbows against the sides of my head as hard as I could, remembering what Sjin had taught me after the first time I had been jumped and robbed.

I could smell the dampness of the wood right in front of my face. It must have rained this morning.

The next hit straight on my spine, waking me up to sounds around me. There were multiple females shrieking and crying, and I realized that one of those voices was mine.

"Father no! Stop!" I heard one of the princes' shout.

Another hit, directly on my hand, my head swimming as the pain nearly knocked me out.

"Cut the cameras you idiots!" a producer yelled.

"You could kill her!" someone shouted from behind me.

I heard the king roar out with rage again, and recognized that if the cameras had been cut, he was welcome to do whatever he wanted to me.

It was hard to think clearly as the whip snapped all the way across my shoulders, a line of fire exploding across my skin. The pain was familiar and visceral, and it felt like the scars on my lower back burned with the memories.

Adrenalin kicked in, the lashes feeling more like frost bite than a fiery hell now. I hadn't been keeping count, but I wasn't sure he was going to stop at 15 anyway. He was going for the bare skin of my arms and shoulders, making me scream out with pain louder than I thought I could make. I didn't know if the whip was sharp enough to cut through my gown, but some of the hits were directly on my old scars.

I begged to a God I didn't know to let me pass out or let me die. I had been close to death before, during fights and during winter, but this felt different. It was like I was being dragged to hell and ripped apart on the way down.

There was nothing else besides pain and fear. I couldn't see anything anymore, my vision disappearing as the sounds around me muffled, fading in and out with my consciousness. Every hit startled me awake, but I felt the energy of each flinch growing weaker. I tasted blood in the back of my throat from screaming, and the only thing that came out now were hoarse groans.

Looking pathetic or weak in front of the king was the last thing on my mind. There was no contest between us; he held all the power, and he was using it now. I was stupid to think I could change anything.

It felt like years before the lashes stopped. It could have been years.

"I want her gone! NOW!" the king roared right above me, startling me awake again.

Silver's voice was distant and it shimmered with an ethereal quality. "Your majesty, only a prince can dismiss a Selected."

My ears rang from listening to my own screams. Gavril's voice was surprisingly close, but it sounded like we were underwater. "Sir if you send her away now you'll have a full-blown uprising," he warned. I assumed it was his hands on my shoulders keeping me in my doubled over position. I was grateful he helped me stay on my knees and elbows and didn't fall onto any of my wounds. "The people. . . will. . ."

I felt my mind slipping away, and as hard as I tried to stay awake, everything started fading until I couldn't hear or feel anything around me. The last thing I felt was another pair of hands at my waist as I slumped over and let sleep overtake me.

"Atlas," Alex's voice floated up from the darkness gently. I focused on it, letting it comfort me. I was back in his bedroom, in his arms, the timbre of his voice vibrating in the ear I had pressed up against his chest.

I tried to say something, but it was like I had no control over my mouth. Panic gripped me as I realized I couldn't move any part of me, but then his voice faded in again, telling me that everything would be okay. I believed him. He was going to protect me.

He kept repeating my name blissfully, causing warmth to spread through my body. I lost the space where my body stopped and his started, relaxing again as I melted into him. His voice was like a lullaby.

His mouth was right next to my ear, whispering to me.

"I love you."

------------------

I woke up alone.

My face was pressed up against a cushion that surrounded my head, and I realized I was looking down at the tile floor of the infirmary. They must have fashioned a bed to keep me off my back.

My head felt like it was swimming, and fragments of dreams floated around in my mind. They must have given me some kind of drug, because my thoughts felt slow and I had a hard time holding on to any tangible ideas.

There was something blocking my right eye. I tried to use my arms and push myself up off the bed, but pain flooded through my entire body and I cried out as I fell back down.

I took stock of my surroundings, trying to shake my head to clear it before realizing I couldn't move my neck in this position. The room was dark, and the only dim light was from the moon filtering through a window out of view. It must have been nighttime, but I wasn't sure if it was the same day or not.

The events of the whipping came rushing back into my mind, reminding me why I was here. The memory of Beckii, attached to that pole and crying, was enough to spur me to movement. I had to find her, to make sure she was alright.

I groaned and winced as I heaved myself up onto my knees, nearly knocking myself out with the sudden rush of pain, but the drugs were dampening it to a dull, tolerable roar. My joints popped and creaked as I woke my muscles up, testing my arms and shoulders and gritting my teeth as I felt the wounds reopening.

I had on a pair of sterile hospital pants and was naked from the waist up, though bandages were wrapped tightly all the way up my chest and around my neck. I took stock of my arms, seeing that they had been fully wrapped with gauze like a long-sleeved shirt, but the back of my left arm was soaked with blood.

I touched the right side of my face with my left hand, feeling the bandage there. I had no feeling in that side of my face, and the horrific thought hit me that the king might have taken out my right eye. I looked around for any doctors or nurses to tell me the bad news, but I was sectioned off into a special room, away from the main hospital wing.

My right hand, where I had been hit, was wrapped up in so much gauze I couldn't see my fingers, and my other hand had an IV needle stuck into it and taped down. I immediately reached for the connector on the thin tube with my teeth, tugging and unhooking it so that I could move freely.

Everything hurt, but I was never one to back down from pain. Trying to keep my arms straight and my head facing forward, I awkwardly stumbled onto the floor using only my knees on the bed for support. My legs felt like jelly and I had to shuffle around to keep myself from falling before I could find my balance.

The door was closed, so I had to reach my good arm up to turn the knob, causing pain to shoot up my arm and shoulder like an electric shock. I had never felt so much pain. I could see blood under my fingernails.

I stumbled out into the hallway, tripping over my feet and nearly falling again.

"Oh my God, Atlas," Alex exclaimed, startling me as he scrambled up from a chair right outside the door. I saw him let a book slide out of his hands to land on the floor as he jumped up and reached for me with both hands extended.

I took a step back, feeling myself teeter on my heals as my head spun around backward. The prince paused to look me up and down before lightly touching the wrist on my good hand. "You shouldn't be up," he said quickly, panicked but unable to physically move me back to the bed without hurting me, "are you insane?"

"My eye," I demanded, anger flooding my chest at the sight of him. I turned my whole body away, making my head spin and letting his arm fall uselessly down to his side.

He sighed, seemingly already start to lose his patience with me. "He just missed it," he assured, motioning back towards the infirmary room again, "you were hit in the cheek. Atlas, you should really-"

"Where's Beckii?" I asked, angering more as he kept trying to herd me towards the door.

He stopped in his tracks, holding his hands out cautiously like I was seconds away from attacking him. "She's being treated at a hospital outside the castle," he replied gravely, straightening and averting his eyes from my gaze.

I felt the blood drain from my face. Even after everything I did, she had still been punished. The futility of my actions settled into my body and weighed on my chest, but then I remembered who was standing in front of me.

"You should have known," he scolded gravely as he looked up to see how I had paled, "you weren't going to be able to stop it."

The fire I had felt at the whipping flared back to life. I ignored the aching pain shooting through my entire body as I rushed him, placing my hands squarely on his chest and shoving him backwards. "You could have!!" I yelled, feeling hot, angry tears pooling in my eyes, "You did nothing!!" My voice came out hoarse and dry, but I tried to be loud anyway. I wanted him to see my rage.

"I couldn't have-"

"You could!!" I shouted, straining my voice, "You're a fucking coward!" My vision blurred momentarily.

He took a deep breath, his jaw working hard. "You have no idea what you've done, Atlas," he said lowly, a pained expression on his face, "Gavril just barely managed to convince my father-"

"I don't care!!" I interrupted, feeling my voice crack and the faint taste of blood rise in the back of my throat, "At least I did something!!" I realized I was drooling and wiped the back of my hand across my face, wincing as the bandages stretched across my shoulders. My words were slurring more than I could control.

I could see Alex was holding back on me, but I didn't care how much I tested his patience. "You did nothing but put all of us in danger."

I was breathing hard from the effort of standing with my injuries. I didn't want to hear about the trouble I had caused, because deep down I was guilty and afraid; I couldn't bear more bad news right now.

I was already starting to plan my escape and go find Beckii. "What hospital is she in?" I demanded, challenging him with my one good eye.

He gave me a suspicious look, but then recognition dawned on his face. "No way, Atlas," he warned sternly, "I could probably get a letter out to her, but I know what you're thinking, and I won't allow it."

"You can't stop me."

"I'll send you home."

I flinched, a different kind of hurt flooding my chest.

"I'm the crown prince," he continued sharply, "and you're an Elites. . ."

I opened my mouth to give him a scathing comment, but he rushed to finish his sentence. "And I care about you, Atlas," he pressed, his face softening, "I really do."

A tear spilled down my cheek, catching in the bandages. "I hate you," I mumbled, my tongue feeling heavy and swollen, "I hate you so much. . ." I tried to step forward for emphasis, but it made me sway to the side and Alex rushed over to put his hands under my arms.

Being this close to him, I could smell the rich, earthy scent coming off him. A sob escaped my lips and my knees buckled; Alex could only slow my descent as we both fell onto our knees. My head rolled back, too heavy for me to hold up, and I looked up at him through heavy eyelids.

Hurt and concern swirled in his eyes as he watched me intently. Hot, angry tears rolled backward across my face. I didn't hate him; right now, all I wanted was him. The feelings of betrayal caused by Alex's inaction fought with the desperate longing I felt. I wanted the comfort and familiarity of our intimate friendship, but I recognized that I was here right now because he didn't stop the whipping – neither mine, nor Beckii's.

Still, I closed my eyes and tilted my head down, leaning my forehead onto his gently, seeking as much physical contact as I could with all my injuries. I was afraid, and hurt, and in pain, but when Alex placed a hand on the undamaged side of my face, everything felt marginally better.

"Atlas, I'll fix this," he whispered, "I promise."