Jeffrey couldn't remember a time when he wasn't locked up in the tower. For all he knew, he had been born there and never had stepped foot on the ground below. Sometimes he felt like a prisoner, doomed to never know what grass of all things felt like or what the sensation of wading in the pond sixty feet under his window was like.

Just because Jeffrey had been trapped in a tower his whole life it didn't mean he just sat around and twiddled his thumbs. No, there was plenty to do. He had a multitude of books and the cleaning lady, Churchie, who visited twice a week had taught him how to knit and sew. He had a ball that he kicked around the room, imitating the children he had seen playing outside. And then there was his piano that he spent most of his time on. It was a source of comfort and without it he would have gone insane. Still, doing the same things over and over and having the same thoughts every day with nothing new occurring, Jeffrey was constantly in a state of boredom. The only time he got outside at all, was at night when he'd clamber up through the trap-door set in the ceiling and lie down on the roof and gaze upon the quiet, still, countryside. He liked to imagine what was going on inside of all the little peasant houses off on the other side of the vast field.

He didn't dare go out on his roof during the day for fear of getting seen. His mother would find out, panic about him going up there and close that refuge off somehow. Jeffrey had had it drilled it into his head from a young age that the outside was too dangerous for a child of such high status as himself. That he would be kidnapped or assassinated the second he left his safe tower. Jeffrey wished he were a peasant. How he envied the freedom of the people he'd peer at through the small windows set in his walls. They were only just wide enough for him to stick an arm through- not that he would ever do that, because it'd mean someone would see him. It was enough to watch the peasants farming the fields or the children playing in the meadow near the woods.

There weren't too many children. Just two families worth. There were the Geiger's sons, two big active boys. And then there was the Penderwicks, five girls and one boy. On a good day, when the wind was blowing right, Jeffrey could hear them laughing and shouting at one another. One time, one of the Penderwick girls and one of the Geiger brothers got into a battle of endurance with each other, daring one another to see who would venture closest to his tower. The girl was definitely more hard-headed than the older boy, she had gotten as far as the pond before the boy gave up and fearfully insisted that she was going too far.

Jeffrey didn't blame him, there was a high penalty waiting for anyone that was stupid enough to get that close to his tower, but it still didn't stop him from wishing they'd come even nearer. He could actually make out a bit of what they looked like for once. The girl had blonde hair that was a lot shorter than the pictures of girls he had in his books. The boy was dark-haired and broad-shouldered, and they were both lithe and tanned from all their time outside. Jeffrey wasn't too pale himself, because he kept the trapdoor in his room open as much as he could and it was right above where he sat at his piano. But he looked sickly compared to the two peasant children. He had never been more envious of anyone in his life.

...

Jeffrey's sixteenth birthday had been his worse one yet. His mother had stopped by- she visited every day for at least two hours- and given him yet more canvas and paints. Jeffrey had accepted them with as much faux delight as possible, knowing he'd never open the paints because in the confined space, because their strong smell always gave him a headache. His mother seemed content with his gratitude, which had given him the courage he needed to ask her if he could venture outside for the first time. He shouldn't have been so stupid.

Not only had she said no, but she had gone off onto one of her rants on safety. How it was all for his own good. How the outside world was terrible and ravenous and just waiting to pounce on poor, helpless, boys such as himself and tear them limb from limb. Jeffrey had tried to interject as mildly as possible, which had set her off demanding to know what had made him resort to such uncalled for behavior. It lasted for quite sometime, ending with her calling him ungrateful and leaving in a teary-eyed tiff.

Jeffrey was in a foul mood for the rest of the day, even Churchie bringing him his favorite meal and some new music wasn't enough to cheer him up. When he pulled himself up onto the roof that night too, nothing held the same appeal like it usually did. Everything was tinted with the fact that Jeffrey was certain he was doomed to the tower for the rest of his life. The sunset, something he had always found inviting and assuring, now taunted him with that far off sun slipping down the horizon he had always longed to reach. Somehow, he slipped off into a doze up there, tired from all his sulking of the day.

When Jeffrey's eyes blinked open, it was completely dark and he was unsettled. How long had he been asleep? The crick in his neck told him it had to have been at least a few hours. Jeffrey hoisted himself up groggily and stretched out his sore limbs, only to freeze mid-yawn at the sudden skittering noise coming from the side of his tower, just over the edge two feet away from him.

Assassins! Jeffrey's mother's repeated paranoia made him jump to the worst possibility. But when the sound didn't repeat itself, Jeffrey forced himself to breathe and be more rational. A squirrel, probably. Jeffrey was about to move forward and check just to assure himself, when with a swift, alarming abruptness, a head shot up over the edge of the roof only to freeze at the sight of him. For a moment, Jeffrey couldn't move. Then, he registered the situation and leaped back with a shriek of alarm. Whoever was clinging to the shingles of his roof, let go in their sudden shock and gave a yelp of panic.

Assassin or not, it was a person, and Jeffrey hastened to the edge in his horror. No way whoever it was, had survived the fall to the ground, and Jeffrey's stomach went sick at the idea of what he was going to see when he looked down. It took awhile for his eyes to make out anything in the pitch black, but a pained grunt- surprisingly close by- drew his gaze down ten feet to his left. He could just make out a shadowy figure dangling helplessly with one hand to his window below.

Jeffrey watched as the person scrabbled hurriedly and grabbed the window ledge with their other hand. He could hear the mysterious figure breathing in terrified gasps.

"The rope!"

The stranger's cry shook Jeffrey into action and cast his eyes to where the person had been climbing earlier. Their was a hook set into the ridge that ran around the whole of the roof. Jeffrey tugged the hook out and held it tightly as he swung the rope down towards the helpless intruder. Once...twice they let it pass by and then, on the third swing, he grasped for it with his left hand and caught hold just as his right hand lost its grip on the window ledge.

"I've got it!"

Jeffrey had already figured that out, his own alarm skyrocketing as the stranger's sudden weight had him struggling and setting his heels against the tower ridge, so he didn't follow him over.

"Stop swinging me arou-OOF!" The potential, but terrible assassin grunted as Jeffrey accidentally sent him slamming against the side of his tower.

"Sorry!" Jeffrey found himself wincing and finally finding a steady medium, his muscles straining to hold the person in suspension. Slowly, he could feel the rope tugging in a pattern. The intruder was climbing. Jeffrey knew he should probably drop it- the odds were not in his favor as to this being a friend. At best, this was a thief here to rob him blind, but Jeffrey couldn't bring himself to take the life of another. And then it was too late, the stranger had gripped the ridge and with a straining heave he hauled himself up. First with one arm, then the other followed, and with a pained gasp the thief/assassin/kidnapper had collapsed face down next to him, his face turned away from Jeffrey.

Jeffrey cast about for some kind of weapon, or something he could use to defend himself, sliding back slowly towards his trap-door.

"Blast it." The trespasser rolled over and flung an arm over his face. His voice sounded dismal, but even more relieving was its high tone. He sounded young, a teenager at best. Now, that Jeffrey could see his entire body now too, he could tell the stranger was around his own size, perhaps even smaller.

"What's wrong?" Jeffrey asked breathlessly, unable to help himself.

"I dropped my telescope." He lowered his arm dramatically, and Jeffrey got his first good look at him.

Oh. Oh. Her.

Jeffrey got his first good look at her.