Letum Sanitas Dolores

Writer's Playground Eleventh Challenge, 1955 words:

Summary: A queen laments her imprisonment and the curse her husband, the king, suffers.

Trigger warnings: mental health issues and reference to drug usage

Peering through the bars of the ancient tall tower in which she was imprisoned by her son, Prince Energumen, Queen Doloris could see nothing but desolation beyond.

“I fear that I shall not be able to free you, my beloved husband. And if we escape, a vast wasteland lays beyond that I might not be able to cross.”

The imprisoned monarch, in shabby coarse rags provided by her captors, sat back down against the dank stone wall and stroked the gem that held King Elric imprisoned within while in his fae form. His delicate wings and majestic clothes were frozen in time and perfectly preserved within the yellow diamond in which he was cursed to remain.

“I promise you, my love. We shall escape, and then I will find a wizard or mage in which to reverse this curse you are under. Then we shall be reunited and overthrow our fratricidal usurping son.”

Queen Doloris knew she was trapped in an enchanted cursed tower, for the locked door would change from one made of wood with a simple bolt on the other side to one of metal with multiple locks. It was as if each time she came close to figuring out how to escape, it would change once more, and she would be forced to find a new way to unlock the door. The room seemed to grow and shrink at random intervals, sometimes minute to minute, trying to trick her as if taunting her sanity and sense of reality.

Even the chamber pot was enchanted, mysteriously making the contents disappear by magic. She thought to use the enchanted chamber pot by trying to crawl into it to be transported beyond the tower’s walls and into the moat, where she could escape, the gem imprisoning her husband tucked safely into her clothing. The trolls guarding her burst into her cell and pulled her from the chamber pot before it could transport her beyond her prison walls.

“YOU SHALL NOT BREAK MY SPIRIT! I SHALL AVENGE KING ELRIC!” she screamed in defiance of her beastly captors.

One of her troll guards opened the small window in the door to peer in and gloat at her. He spoke in some garbled form of troll-speak that she did not understand.

“Speak like a human, you vile creature!”

Queen Dolores did not need to be fluent troll-speak to know that they were taunting her, casting aspersions on her and the king, now cursed in his tiny magical prison.

~o0O0o~

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I wish I could say that Her Majesty, your mother, was improving, but it appears she is not responding to treatment,” Dr. Coleman said, his head bowed with regret he did not have better news for King Edward.

Continuing, the doctor asked, “Please tell me, is there a history of schizophrenia in your family?”

King Edward glanced away, unable to meet the medical professional in the eye. Being truthful was the best course towards helping his mother, despite it being embarrassing. “My mother’s uncle, the Duke, he had schizophrenia, but we kept it quiet. It was officially reported that he went on private retreats often when we were sending him to facilities abroad to take care of him, away from the gossip mongering press.” 

“I, and many others on the staff, are in agreement that a rehabilitation center may not be the best facility to help Her Majesty. That she may be better taken care of and treated in a mental insti–”

“I am not sending my mother off to a loony bin!” the King snapped brusquely.

“They have treatments and access to some drugs that we don’t here that may benefit Her Majesty.”

“It’s bad enough that the press has reported that my mother has had a mental break down due to the stress of my father, King Eric, suddenly dying less than six months after my older brother’s fatal accident! I don’t need to further add to the rumor’s she’s gone completely ‘round the bend.”

“Have you figured out who supplied your mother the psychotropic substance, yet?” Dr. Coleman asked delicately.

The king looked through the window, feeling impotent. He was head of state and yet powerless to relieve his mother of her suffering or fix her mind that had once been sharp and formidable. Peering in, he saw that the staff had changed her toilet from a traditional porcelain model to a waterless model that could be flushed remotely after she nearly drowned herself when the staff pulled her head from the bowl, trying to escape. They had already had to move her to a new room, gleaming in its sanitary bleakness and spartan furnishing, with a sturdier door and better locks after she escaped once having worked one door off its hinges using a simple blunt knife.

Besides the simple cotton clothing, her bed with one blanket, and a roll of toilet paper, the one object she was allowed to keep was the piece of amber with a dragonfly preserved within. It was a gift from Eric to Dolores when he was a second-in-line prince and she was just a medieval literature major working as a part-time librarian at the university they both attended. The staff had tried to remove it from her only to hear her howling and screaming in despair until it was returned. It was the only object that kept her from becoming some stereotypical embodiment of a hysterically mad woman.

“The investigation is ongoing.” The king was not about to admit to the staff that his younger brother most probably gave it to her, having debated with him on the topic of legalizing the use of psychotropics for mental health and PTSD, especially microdosing. “But my mother was of the mindset where if a little is good, more must be better.” He had watched his mother taking a handful of acetaminophen, triple the recommended dosage, when she would suffer the rare migraine.

“Initial toxicology reports indicate Her Majesty ingested four times the normal dose of LSD, and this is her third trip here since Prince Alfred’s death.” Dr. Coleman took a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at his brow that was beginning to sweat with nervousness.

“While I am not saying correlation is not causation, there has been a strong link between multiple use of LSD and the emergence of latent schizophrenia. It’s been four days since Her Majesty has been admitted, and she should have returned to a more cognitive and lucid state by now.”

Peering in the small observation window once more, he was met with his mother’s face staring back at him with utter loathing.

“DAMN YOU TO THE PITS OF HELL, ENERGUMEN! When I free your father, Elric, from this curse you paid your whore witch to put him under, we’ll mount your head on a pike for the ravens to feast upon!” Queen Dolores punctuated her statement by spitting at him. The spittle slid down the thick pane of LEXAN™. A fly landed on the window next to the smeared saliva.

His brow furrowed, King Edward closed his eyes and turned away, unable to further watch his mother in this intolerable state. “Please, keep her as comfortable as possible. You have the resources of the state necessary to help her.” He did not want to admit that he felt like he was nearly at his own breaking point with the death of his father a mere ten days prior and the funeral was coming up in two days.

“We recommend continuing to give her meals that do not require any flatware, since she had used them as tools to try and dig through the walls and take the door off its hinges, and has accidentally injured herself in the process. But we will do our best, Your Majesty,” Dr. Coleman promised while bowing.

There was no need to bring up the fact that Queen Dolores would not be in any capable state to attend her husband’s funeral.

~o0O0o~

When that evening’s suppertime came, the troll guards hastily shoved a bowl of thin gruel through the door with a dingy and dinged tankard with stagnant water to wash it down.

“So barbaric you can’t even give a queen a spoon to eat with? UNCIVILIZED SAVAGES!” she bellowed at the door.

Crouched in the dark, huddled against a dank and damp corner with only a meager blanket to keep her warm from the frozen winter winds that blew through her barred window, an ally finally arrived.

“Greetings Your Majesty,” the tiny fae said before bowing while perched on her knee. He was no bigger than a fly, wearing an iridescent black and green coat of fairy fur. “I am a loyal subject of your husband, King Elric. In order to help free him, we have secretly slipped a potion into your supper. After you have eaten it, if you swallow the diamond imprisoning your husband, the King, the potion in your stomach in conjunction with your love will break the curse and free him. We recommend you wait until just after the trolls have checked on Your Highness at midnight.”

“Brave and faithful ally! Thank you,” she whispered to the tiny subject who flew off.

Pretending to be asleep, she saw the small square pane of light cast against her prison cell wall, indicating the troll guards checking up on her. Once the small observation portal in the door closed, she scrambled over and greedily downed her fetid porridge.

Taking the yellow diamond that held her husband, she placed it in her mouth and swallowed. It was too large to easily fit, so she drank some of the water to ease it down.

On her back, she could feel the magic pulsing in her as the curse was being broken despite her inability to breathe. Bright lights and spots of colors filled her vision before she saw a stream of rainbow colors emerging from her mouth. It was a sign the potion worked, and her husband would soon be free.

~o0O0o~

He knew he was dreaming, but it felt so real, it almost felt like a memory. By his bedside, his mother, father and brother, Alfred, stood, as if waiting for him to wake. Missing them terribly but not knowing within the dream why he missed them, he leapt from his bed and hugged them fiercely, tears streaming down all their faces.

“Have faith, you will be a good king,” his father whispered in his ear.

King Edward woke with a start. Though his eyes were dry, he felt a wetness upon his cheek.

“It was just a nightmare,” his wife assured him, stroking his arm. “You should go back to sleep. We have a couple of long days ahead.”

Turning to the Queen, he said, “It felt so real.” He dabbed his finger along the wetness still clinging to his cheek and put it to his mouth, tasting the salt of tears. “I don’t know how I could have gotten through these past months without your support, Lorraine.”

Reaching her hand out in the dark, his wife stroked his brow in a way that helped him fall asleep quickly.

Just as he could feel his heart settle down and his mind relaxed enough to fall asleep, there was a knock on the door.

Looking at the clock, he saw that is was almost four in the morning.

“Enter,” the King called out.

“Your Majesty, there has been an accident with your mother,” his valet said as he entered the royal bedroom.

Without another word, Edward knew.

==================

Author’s note: The title “Letum Sanitas Dolores” roughly translates to in Latin, “The death/ruin of Dolores’ sanity”. The initials of the title are “LSD.”

List of prompts to be included in the story contest: CHOOSE ONE OF THE CHARACTERS LISTED BELOW. This character does not have to be your protagonist but they must play a significant role in your story.

1. A fugitive

1. A queen

1. An amputee

1. A carpenter

1. A teenage prodigy

CHOOSE ONE OF THE SETTINGS LISTED BELOW. Can be set in any time-period, including the future. Can deviate slightly but the majority of the story must take place in one of these settings.

1. A summer camp

   
   

2. A vineyard

1. A production studio/film or tv set

1. A rehabilitation center

1. A treehouse

THE ONE THING THAT MUST BE INCLUDED IN ALL STORIES IS:

• A piece of amber with something relating to or derived from living matter preserved in it.