Ok guys I've been wanting to read some Dark Brotherhood fanfic focusing on Babette, and there really isn't a lot of it. Also a lot of it is ah... creepy in a way that doesn't interest me. So I decided to make the kind of story I wanted to read! I hope you enjoy it. Obviously I don't own Bethesda, although I do own Almeda.

Chapter One - Thrall

Her head ached, a dull throb that beat in time to the rocking motion of her skull. Was she ill? If she was it was doubtful she'd survive it. The bitter cold cut through the rips in the rags she called clothing, had someone stolen the cloak she'd got from that priestess of Kynareth? Almeda shivered and tried to raise a hand to her pounding head and found that her hands were bound together. She almost wanted to laugh instead of cry as she realized the rocking motion and the just noticed pain in her gut were caused by being slung over a broad shoulder as she was carried off at ground eating lope. If someone hoped to get money out of her they'd be disappointed, she hadn't eaten in days and any heavy work would kill her quickly enough. It was laughable to think anyone would want her as a bed mate as filthy as she was.

She drifted out of consciousness again, weakness and the pain in her head combined didn't make her want to try to stay awake. She was vaguely aware of a snow covered pine forest, although she'd never be able to tell how far from Morthal she was. The black mouth of a cave swallowed her up as her captor slowed to a walk and had to crouch a bit through a few narrow tunnels. She could hear a murmur of a voice, someone muttering to himself as a shovel bit into the earth and dirt was tossed aside. A fine tremor began in her hands. It wasn't just that she was afraid, she told herself. She'd been cold for so long that the warmth of several braziers and on larger fire pit somewhere near by made her skin pucker and twitch. She felt ice melt from her eyelashes and hair, dribbling down her cheeks like cool tears. She wasn't crying, she hadn't cried in years.

"What have you brought me this time?" a smooth cultured voice from across the room, "Well, put her down so I can have a look at her Herun."

Her captor nearly dropped her to the floor in his haste to obey and held her up by her arms. Almeda's knees buckled and she was grateful for the strong grip that held her immobile. The man striding across cave floor was tall, dressed in black, and a vampire. Hysteria bubbled up, it was almost funny all the things she'd survived the last few years and now this was how she'd die.

"Now my dear, be a good girl and don't struggle too much. What do you have to live for anyway? From the look at you you'll not be missed, and you're a hair's breadth from dying of something soon enough. I've heard it can be very painful to starve to death, and I wouldn't trust anyone who said freezing is as painless as falling asleep. Would you want to bet on that?" He smoothed a hand over her wet cheeks, "I certainly wouldn't if I were you." He sent off the thrall he'd called Herun with a wave of his hand and put his arm around her shoulders, holding her up and propelling her towards a chair.

He petted her hair soothingly as he pushed her onto the tall stool, smiling the whole time. "At least this way you'll die warm and relatively painlessly, no need to be afraid anymore. No more loneliness and hunger, nothing but rest, yes?"

He was right, after all. What do I have to live for, she thought. Why would I want to fight back? It was all so reasonable and she'd never been able to decide at that moment whether he was using a spell to seduce her or if she was just too tired. She sighed and leaned back against his chest as he settled behind her.

"There's a good girl." He wound his fingers gently in her hair and tipped her chin up and to the side. It hurt as he sank his teeth into her skin, a cold burning pain that only lasted for a few moments. A liquid warmth stole outward from the wound to envelope her body, stealing away her mind as she felt herself weaken. Yes, this was a much better alternative to living.