Okay so a little backstory on this first- This is based in DreamTeam1017 's Kingdom Awaits universe, and is kinda a "what if" for if Blighty won and took everything over. As for the story- in Spanish class, we were reading a poem called No Te Salves, and eventually I got the idea for this story. So here it is!

"I'll be back in just a bit." The queen gave her signature evil smile at Jon, who was curled up in the corner, and walked out of the cell, slamming the door behind her.

Jon wrapped his arms around himself tighter. Blighty had already killed all the rest of his friends- he was the only one left. She had been able to overpower them and used her power to take over the entire continent, making her own empire. She had killed most of the previous leaders, and the ones she hadn't she had thrown into prison. Jon wasn't sure why he was the only one of his group kept alive- why did she want him so badly? She had made an example of Cory and Uni in a public execution, Dawn and Tommy were both killed in the fighting, and Nick and Ashlie- Jon choked back a sob. Their mauled, lifeless bodies were sitting in the other corner of his cell. He didn't even notice the smell anymore, he had become so numb.

"WHY ME?" He screamed with a broken voice, before lying back in exhaustion. He didn't even have the energy to cry anymore. The first three months or so, he had cried every day after the queen's torture. She used mental torture to slowly break his walls, and every day he seemed a little closer to insanity. Nowadays, the only thing he could manage before collapsing was to curse his fate. He closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing.

"She's getting to you, isn't she." A voice drifted to Jon's ears from the next cell over.

Jon tiredly opened his eyes and turned his head towards the voice. He would be worried that this was another torture device, but by now he was almost beyond caring. "What was that?" He managed, barely able to speak.

A figure came out of the shadows in the other cell. "You've lasted pretty long, considering all she's done to you."

"Yeah, well, it's not like I have anything more interesting to do."

"You've still continued to try to resist," The person said. "But I can feel your resistance getting weaker."

"What does it even matter?" Jon said, closing his eyes again.

He suddenly felt something hit his chest. He picked it up, and held it up to his face. It was a small granola bar.

"I'm pretty good at reserving food for long periods of time," The person said. "I had had a big meal before I came here, and I only really need to eat once a day, so I've been stockpiling these." They giggled a bit as Jon wolfed down the bar hungrily. "Looks like you need it more than me, anyways."

"Thanks," Jon said, feeling a little bit better from the extra food. "So... who are you?"

"My name's Tamara." She tossed over another granola bar. "I don't know why I'm still alive. She hasn't been breaking me as much now that you're here, so thanks for that, I guess."

"How long have you even been here, anyways? Sounds like you were here longer than me." Jon finished the second granola bar and gathered up enough energy to scoot over to the bars separating their cells.

"I stopped keeping track after seven months. I'd say it was probably a year before you showed up." She laughed a bit to herself. "Life's been a bit easier since then- sorry that my troubles have been shifted over to you."

"A... a year?" Jon shook his head in disbelief. "How are you even able to keep laughing? It's been maybe seven months for me, and I already can't feel anything."

"You know, she's always said there's a way to get out of this torture," Tamara said, and stared off into the distance. "All we have to do is join her. Let her teach us how to become strong, powerful. We could have a peaceful life, as long as we let her dictate it." She smiled tightly. "But she would take over our minds, our bodies. We wouldn't be able to speak for ourselves, we wouldn't be able to have our own hopes, our own aspirations." She turned to Jon. "That's why I'm still fighting. She wants us to save ourselves, to give in to her. I'm fighting to make my world more than just a tranquil corner. I won't save myself. I'll keep fighting back until..."

"Until what?" Jon said softly.

"Until she decides to finally kill me."

"Oh." Jon bit his lip. "So... any advice? On, you know, how to keep going. Despite," He gestured around the room, "this."

"Well, I guess there's a few things," Tamara said, and grabbed onto Jon's arms through the bars. "Don't- where do I start? Don't... stay unmoving when others call for help. Don't freeze your joy, or love without passion. Don't save yourself today- or ever." Tamara looked over at Jon. "The torture doesn't stop. But don't try to be calm. Don't think that this stupid cell is all you'll ever get out of life. Don't start letting judgement take away kindness, don't roll your eyes at others' pain. Don't- don't speak without lips, don't sleep without dreams, don't think of your death. Don't get desperate and try the solution that seems easiest- you have time. We have time. Don't save yourself." She smiled at him.

"Thanks," Jon responded, and curled up in a ball on the floor. He winced as he tried to get comfortable, the bruises littering his body making it hard for him to find a good spot. He finally managed to find an okay spot, and closed his eyes. "Goodnight."

Jon yawned and rolled the covers off his fluffy bed. He opened the window and looked out at the broken world around him with apathy. It had been almost a year since his imprisonment had ended, and Jon had accepted by this point that this was his life. He gave a sideways glance to the neglected picture of his dead friends while getting his bloodstained robe on. He would be wearing something a bit nicer for this occasion, but she had told him that he should wear this robe- it was the first one he was given, and the one that showed the most power. He opened the door and briskly walked down the hall to the main room, and opened the doors.

Despite everything, Blighty's throne was still stunning. Jon kneeled down before her for a moment before walking over, expressionless, and taking his position on one of the throne's armrests. A year ago, when he had brokenly accepted this position, he had always been uncomfortable on the armrest, and was always shifting around. By now, it was only routine. He nodded as Blighty spoke to him. He already had memorized the details of today, had made sure he was prepared. This wasn't too big of a deal, it was just an execution. However, after hearing that the person being executed had magical blood, Jon started having sneaking suspicions about who it was. He was performing the role of executioner today, and it was the first day that he would show his mastery of blood magic to the public.

It wasn't long after he had accepted her terms that she had begun his training. Well, she hadn't trained him, per say, she had just facilitated his training. Blood magic, just like Blighty's strange shadow magic, had been banned on the mainland for many years due to their evil properties. Shadow magic depended on tinted weapons, but blood magic depended solely on others' pain- or death. Jon only used his own blood at first, but Blighty started giving him blood that she had collected. From who, Jon didn't know. He didn't want to use it, but after beginning to learn blood magic, the blood was drawn to him. Over time, he saw- and did- many things that he never wanted to see. Over time, he stopped protesting, he stopped complaining. He eventually couldn't feel anything anymore. And she only saw this as a strength, as he only grew more and more loyal to her.

Soon, she got up and stretched. "Jon, dear, could you fetch me some water?"

Jon grabbed her glass from under the throne and went to fill it up. He came back to see her fluffing her hair in her reflection off the gold on the throne. His lips twitched up a bit as she turned around. "Your water?"

"Ah, yes!" Blighty turned around and took the glass of water, took a sip, then set it down on the table. "I believe they have the prisoner waiting in the courtyard. Go ahead, have fun! She's on the platform over the blood basin, so her blood should be freshly bottled and ready for use. All you have to do," She turned around and looked at Jon, the shadows in her eyes failing to mask the insanity that had settled in her, "is kill her."

Jon bit his lip as Blighty turned on her heel and strutted out of the throne room. He rubbed his fingers against his robe and summoned his hammer. The hammer was stained with blood, tainted by the magic that it was used for. He grabbed a vial of blood out of the inner pockets of his robe and smashed it onto his hammer, the blood in the vial mixing with his own blood, leaking from the cuts from the smashed glass making the whole thing glow a dark red. He clutched the hammer and marched through the halls to the courtyard.

It was easy for him to get to the platform on the blood basin. He would be able to part the crowds anyways with a simple word, but people could see the blood on his hammer, the red hue that had started leaking into his eyes, and cleared a path without him having to open his mouth.

Good. I don't like talking anyways, Jon thought as he walked up the path

On the platform was a hunched figure, battered and broken. When she heard his steps on the platform, she looked up at him in defiance before a look of shock settled over her face. Jon had expected this, but he still couldn't help but be shocked.

"Thought you were dead." Her face melted into a blank sheet, no emotions showing.

"Hmm." Jon tried to do the same.

"I thought you would have listened to me." Tamara stood up. She had cuts and scapes all over her. Her right arm was hanging limply at her side, and she was bent over like someone had broken her back and healed it wrong. "I thought you would never give in. I thought we had formed a bond. I thought you were dead," She repeated without emotion.

Jon tried to think of something to say, but failed, and only managed to step forwards and clutch his hammer harder.

"When you told her you'd go with her, I expected that you'd keep fighting," she continued, her voice cracking a bit- Jon wasn't sure whether she was actually choking up, or if it was just from all the abuse she must have gone through to get to this point. "There were- others. They gave in too. But they're not here now, are they?" She chuckled to herself.

"You always were able to laugh at the strangest things," Jon commented, his voice monotone.

"Yeah, their bodies were tossed in my cell somewhere between a week and a month after they left," Tamara said, still without a hint of emotion. "I saw she used that tactic on you too- Nick and Ashlie, you said? Do you still mourn them every night, even though the queen just tossed them in the grinder the moment you left? Seems like that tactic worked more on you than it did on me. After the first few dead 'friends', I stopped caring. I thought that maybe you had escaped, since your body wasn't tossed in like all the rest. I should've known better."

Jon held back the bits of emotion swirling in the pit of his stomach, and raised his blood-red, glowing hammer. Tamara looked up at it.

"Blood magic? Of course she would want someone who could use that," Tamara said. "You probably guessed by now that I'm susceptible to one of the 'dark magics' as well, otherwise the Queen would've killed me much earlier. I can use her same shadow magic, with 'the right training'. As if I would let her choose my identity." For the first time since he'd seen her look at him on the podium, she let show some indignance as she spat on the ground. Jon muttered a spell, and it fizzled and evaporated before it could touch the blood basin.

"At least I'm not groveling on the ground," Jon said, his voice laced with anger. "At least I'm not broken. At least I'm not about to be killed by-" he didn't know how to finish his statement, and stood frozen for a moment before taking a deep breath and closing his eyes.

"Jon." Tamara breathed a sigh. "Can you at least give me one last request?"

"Fine," Jon gave in.

"Good," Tamara said, and grabbed Jon's hammer and yelled "Freeze!"

The world around them froze. "Jon, what I want is one last time to talk to YOU. Without her knowing, without this bloody shell you've built up."

"Fine," Jon conceded again.

"What happened to you?" She asked, her expression breaking. "You used to be such a sweet guy. You just... who are you now?"

"I'm safe," Jon responded, his voice growing more desperate with each word. "I'm not trapped in a cell, tortured every day, starved half to death. I have a bed, I have clothes, I have food. I'm living a good life, and you're not willing to be happy for me."

Tamara sighed. "I guess you can't see it. Those clothes, that bed, that food- they aren't yours, they're HERS. YOU are hers."

"You have no idea what you're talking about," Jon growled, his eyes flashing red. "I am living for myself now. Not that you would know what that's like."

Tamara only sighed. "You can unfreeze the world now- I know she wants to have my last words recorded."

Jon glared at her again and smashed his hammer outwards, sending a blood red wave of light out across the area and unfreezing everyone. He turned around to address the crowd. "Now we hear the last words of a criminal to the crown. Listen well."

He turned around and cast an amplifying spell over Tamara. She shivered as her entire body turned red briefly before the red glow all congregated around her mouth. She cleared her throat and flinched as she heard her voice echoing throughout the courtyard.

"While you stand unmoving at the edge of the street, I fight back. While you hide your joy, I dance and sing. I won't save myself." She looked over at Jon with a gaze of steel. "I won't save myself. And one day, when you find yourself rotting down in hell, don't come looking for me. I'll be nearby, but I won't let you into my fiery corner of hell." She turned her head to the ground with a laugh, her eyes falling from the rage and fear battling in Jon's. "Despite everything, you saved yourself. So you can never be seen with me."

And then the hammer crashed down over her head.

I took some liberties, I made some assumptions, I don't know the full extent of everything in KA so I made some guesses. But I feel accomplished! And now off to finals. Yaaaaay.
On that happy note, thanks for reading this!
-Helena!! :|