Princess Luna

Chapter 6 - Man of constant sorrow

Leo’s POV

When I next awoke, there was a plastic tray of food lying on the floor. It looked like something from an elementary school cafeteria, and about as appetizing. There was some sort of dry tasting packaged breakfast “cereal” bar, some canned pears, and a little carton of low fat milk.

“Are you trying to make me lose my will to live?” I say out loud towards the camera location. “I wonder how Amelia will react if I refuse to eat crap like this and I starve to death while in your custody over something that I didn’t even do! This wouldn’t even be filling enough for a small human child, let alone a lycan wolf!”

Despite my complaints, I eat the provided meal. And I was still hungry afterwards, I was unsurprised to find.

“I don’t suppose I could get a menu of my options next time? Or at least a cup of coffee, minimum?”

I got no answer, of course. I didn’t expect one. But I know someone somewhere is listening in to every little thing I say or do. Almost like I’m living in a goldfish bowl, being observed by someone outside the small confines of my bowl, and making reports. Perhaps someone will take note, and possibly take pity on me as well.

“If anyone cares, my favorite meal is fried chicken. My favorite kind of sandwich is roast beef. And my favorite cookies are oatmeal raisin. Just in case you’re looking for menu ideas. Nothing fancy, just plain good home cooking. I wouldn’t say no to a ham and cheese omelet for breakfast if I’m still here tomorrow, either. But if I am here, please don’t give me more of this fake food crap! Nothing from a box or a can. I honestly don’t care what you serve me, as long as it’s reasonably fresh.”

“My mate, Amelia, however, has a more adventurous and flavorful palette. So if the king should happen to catch her and toss her down here, too, you better be prepared to take good care of her. I doubt the king could manage to get her, but if he does, she is fond of spicy or tangy flavors. Tacos with salsa. Anything containing lots of garlic or herbs, tasty ripe fruits in season, that sort of thing.”

I continued to talk in a similar fashion for at least an hour, next describing all 6 of the pups and what they like or don’t like, in case they, too, are caught and detained down here. Not because I believe that will happen. Most probably they would be raised in the palace unless the king decides to separate the rest from young Alex. But I do want it noted that I am a good parent who knows and cares all about each and every one of my family members, no matter how large it has gotten.

Eventually I grow silent, bored of listening to myself ramble on. And I wait for whatever is next. And I think about what Amelia would do if she were stuck in a cell similar to this one. She’d probably sing to keep herself entertained. She always seems to know the words to every song that ever pops up on the radio. Although she wouldn’t have a radio, but she often hums or sings quietly even without the radio.

I miss her singing, I realize, and I feel like crying. But I don’t want anyone anywhere to know that they are “getting” to me. I won’t cry in the stupid cell. Instead, I’ll sing in honor of my mate.

I don’t listen to the radio much to know the words of many songs, but I do watch plenty of animated children’s movies along with my family. Most of them have fun catchy tunes as part of the story. Our 4 year old twins Dee and Jules (short for Deirdre and Juliette as they are named after their grandmothers), are constantly watching Rapunzel on repeat lately, fascinated by a princess with long hair wishing to escape her tower. I can recall some of those songs, and they are blessedly appropriate for my situation.

So I sing a song about how busy I try to keep myself while I am stuck in a tower waiting for my life to begin. Then I sing another song called Mother Knows Best. And I top all that off with I Have a Dream.

Then I am silent for a while, missing my family. I worry about their safety. And surprisingly, I worry about what the state of the kingdom might become if Alexander becomes even more of a tyrant or despot, thinking he can do whatever he likes with no consequence or accountability.

Without a clock, I have little sense of time in this place. But I assume several hours have passed when another plastic tray arrives, pushed thru the slot at the bottom of the door. I don’t have very high expectations, but I immediately go to see what I was brought to eat this time. I am starving due to the insubstantial breakfast I had been provided earlier.

Lunch seems to be a bit of an improvement over the breakfast, and I give thanks to whomever was responsible for the improved fare out loud. I have a ham and cheese sandwich that has a bit of lettuce along with a little foil packet of mayo and mustard on the side, a banana, an oatmeal raisin cookie, and the same little carton of milk that I had received along with breakfast. Again, nothing was hot or even all that filling, however nothing was from a package except for the carton of milk and the condiments, so there wasn’t much I could really complain about.

Then the afternoon dragged on. Other than the brief talk in the early morning with Glen, I had no interaction with anyone. Whomever was bringing my meals would just shove it through the flap in the door and go, not bothering to interact with me at all.

I decide to sing, but have to wrack by brain for some time to come up with something I know that expresses how I feel, finally remembering an old Bob Dylan tune.

“I am a man of constant sorrow,

I’ve seen trouble all my days

I’ll say goodbye to Colorado

Where I was born and partly raised.

Your mother says that I’m a stranger

My face you’ll never see no more

But there’s one promise, darling

You’ll see me on gods golden shore.

Through this open world, I’m about to ramble

Through ice and snow, sleet and rain

I’m about to ride that morning railroad

Perhaps I’ll die on that train

I’m going back to Colorado

place I started from

If I’d knowed how bad you’d treat me

Honey, I never would have come.”

I have no idea whether anyone listening in on me enjoys my singing anymore than they probably enjoy my occasional ramblings. I wonder how much they’d enjoy watching me jack off, as I think about my sexy mate and dreaming of the things I’d love to be doing with her. Anything would be better than lying around in this tiny cell, waiting for something to happen.

Eventually, I end up falling asleep briefly due to boredom. And I dream about war and destruction, my worries and anxiety about the future spilling over into my subconscious.

We had planned to go to the beach as a family after Alex and I came back from the capital. Amelia thought that would be a great family trip to take, right before we become too busy with the latest additions to the family. I wonder if we will still be able to do that. I start to wonder and worry about a lot of our future plans. We had planned to do so many things in the next few years, trying our best to give our oldest sons the best childhood they could have before their lives become busy with responsibilities. And if either Alex or Lance feel that the mantle of responsibility is too heavy, they have several siblings that might be willing to step up. Neither Amelia nor I feel it would be fair to force any of our family into a role that they don’t want, and we always try our best to treat all of them as equally as we can. It’s only my father in law who seems to put one up high on a pedestal and treat the rest like trash.

The hours go by so slowly, and I begin to be depressed, having little to look forward to at the moment.

After many hours I hear footsteps approach, and am surprised when the door actually opens. The Kings Delta Dennis opens the door and props it open, then he sets up a folding tray right in front of me, where some palace servant sets down a covered dish. The cover is removed to reveal a steaming bowl of beef stew, plus I get a small salad, a dinner roll with butter, and a little plastic cup of wine. Im too surprised to say anything, as Dennis brings in a padded folding chair, unfolds it, and sits down.

“The king apologizes for the quality of the food you’ve been getting,” Dennis says, surprising me even further. “You’re the only prisoner down here at this time, so we’ve had to scramble to get things organized.”

“Ah.” I say. “So this isn’t like a last meal before my execution, then, is it?”

“Oh no, it’s nothing like that!” Dennis says with a laugh. I’m not feeling particularly reassured, though.

“Any idea how long the king intends to keep me down here in the pits of hell?” I ask as I butter the sourdough roll and take a bite. It’s soft and warm, and I nearly moan in pleasure.

“Only until he gets what he wants,” Dennis readily admits. “Which is to raise young Alexander. He thought he could get his daughter to see reason, but when the king made the mistake of offering to let either the pup or you go, she chose young Alexander.”

“Stupid of him,” I say, as I take a sip of the delicious stew. “I may be her mate, but I’ve always known I love her far more than she loves me! The pups are her life. I’m just the guy that the moon goddess shackled her to, and helps to make the pups.”

Dennis laughed again, although I honestly find very little of this funny. I try the wine next. Not bad!

“Not that I mind the company, but is there a reason you’re sticking around while I eat?” I ask as I add a little packet of ranch dressing to the small garden salad and begin to eat it first.

“Well, I’m a bit curious to find out what’s been going on. Glen has been given a couple days off for some reason that no one will tell me about. And apparently I’m to give you your phone at 8 pm sharp for about 5 minutes, to talk to your errant wife. Apparently she’s gone missing, along with the rest of the family.”

I smile at that. My family is safe, for now.