Yay! New story! So, this is Part 1 of the promised story of Lady Jane Mawer. Spin off from Haunting Hal, it's going to have some overlaps, so some parts might make more sense if you've read both.

I'm really excited about Jane. Her character has been evolving in my head over the past few months and I'm very pleased with it.

This is going to be another multi chaptered one, at the moment it is not quite as long as Haunting Hal but who knows, the way this story is evolving, it might be twice as long! (probably not)

This story begins 28 years before Haunting Hal, in 1591. I wont put dates on every chapter though because this one moves pretty quickly.

I don't own Being Human.

Enjoy x

Part 1: The Death of Lady Jane Mawer

"I do"

Looking back, now, at my life, my death, I can see that those were the words that started it all. They changed everything.

When He first showed an interest in me my parents thought they had struck gold. He had money, lands, a title, everything they could possibly hope for their daughter. I didn't care about any of that, I just wanted someone kind and when I met Him I thought I had got my wish. He was charming, handsome, not young but mature, He told interesting stories, He made me laugh, He seemed so kind.

People say that your wedding day is supposed to be the happiest day of your life. I was never naive enough to think that that would be true but I didn't think that my wedding day would also be my last. Or at least, my last, the way I was.

On my wedding night I was as nervous as any new bride. I remember, there was this mirror on the dresser in my room. It had this beautiful guilted frame. I remember looking into it at my reflection and thinking, "My childhood ends tonight, tomorrow I will be a woman." Of course I knew it would happen one day, I was seventeen, it was time to grow up, but that didn't make it any easier.

I remember being distracted from my thoughts by His hand on my shoulder which surprised me because I didn't see Him approach in the mirror and when I tried to turn around and check if He had a reflection, He stopped me.

He didn't look at my face, just my neck and as He led me over to the bed I had no idea that soon I would find out: He wasn't kind at all.

I would have to say that the scariest moment was not the wedding day, nor was it finding He had no reflection, or the rape, or seeing the terrifying change in His eyes and teeth, or the dying, it wasn't even the corridor. No, the scariest part, the moment that frightened me the most, was waking up, because, when I did so, I was alone. I was in my bed, well, the bed that was now mine but still felt like a stranger's, naked, covered in my own blood, cold and alone.

There was a deathly stillness around me, this pressing silence, that I had never felt before. It was like something was missing, a sound, one that had always been there, like a constant companion and now it was gone, I missed it.

I wasn't left to dwell on these thoughts for very long though. Something distracted me, something primal, the most basic need. I was hungry, really hungry, hungrier than I had ever felt in my life. I needed food. So I quickly found something to wear, dressed and crossed to the door. It was locked. I tried multiple times to get out but nothing worked, this made no sense, why would He lock me in? I went back to the bed and sat down.

And as I sat there, in the abnormal silence, I felt memories of the previous evening flood back to me. I screwed up my eyes, trying to get them to stop and, without thinking, I felt my hands rub my neck, at the exact point that His teeth had torn at it. That was when I realised what was missing. The sound, the constant companion, it was my heartbeat. I had no pulse. And that's when it hit me. I was dead. Dead. The words kept going round and round in my head, it was impossible, it couldn't be true, could it? I cried myself back to sleep that night.

I think it was the smell that hit me first, woke me from my restless doze. I had never smelt anything like it before, it called to me. My eyes snapped open and rolled around, looking for the source of the scent. I saw Him sitting at the end of my bed, I tried to get up but He wouldn't let me. He held a goblet to my mouth and told me to drink. I found it impossible to resist that smell. I drank, and drank, and drank. It was wonderful. I didn't know what the drink was but I had never felt anything like it before, I felt powerful, like I could do anything, like I could fly.

A few days later though, when He told me what it was, I threw up. Human blood. I had drunk human blood. And that wasn't the worst part, the worst part was that I wanted to do it again, to feel that again. I tried to fight it, to refuse, really I did, but eventually the craving got to much and when He next offered me a goblet of blood, I was all too happy to accept.

However there was one thing that I vowed to myself that I would never do. I would never kill.

In the following weeks I was fully introduced to my husband's social circle. It turned out that vampires were not very rare at all, in fact, there were hundreds of them in London and as chance should have it, my husband just happened to be their leader. Apparently He was really old, one of the Old Ones, although that didn't mean anything to me at the time.

The vampires seemed very keen to welcome me in to their "family" as they called it. The new Lady Lanrete, although I still felt like Lady Mawer at heart. I wondered how many had been before me, in this extremely long life of His.

He was surprisingly kind in public, even though He still visited my bed chamber every night, to the outside eye, we could be seen as the perfect couple, in love even. I could tell that the other vampire women envied me, they said I was lucky to be recruited by an Old One, for the position that gave me. I didn't feel lucky. I wanted to shout that at them, that I would willingly swap places but I was too scared. Too scared of Him.

Soon enough, His patience with me for not killing began to wear thin. There were times when He threatened me, when He forced me to a human's bleeding neck, when He hurt me, but I still wouldn't break my vow, I wouldn't kill. He hated that little bit of resistance inside of me, He wanted to crush it, to kill it. He wanted to own every single little part of me. I had no idea of His plan until it was too late.

I hadn't seen my sister in ages. Mary was four years older than me, got married two years before me, but her husband had died recently, too young, taken by illness. She was lucky, he was a good man, I think they actually might have been in love. My husband had been all to eager to invite Mary to stay with us for a while, get away from her home so she could grieve. I didn't see the danger. Looking back, I feel so stupid that I didn't see what was coming, I was just so happy to see her again.

The first few days went without hitch, she settled in perfectly and I think she really was getting over her grief, even though she still missed him greatly. I spent nearly all my time with her, He didn't even visit my bed chamber at night while she was there, I should have known then that something was going on.

Everyone was being so nice to her, the only human in the house, apart from those in the cellar that were kept for food. I wondered how she didn't notice something strange about the place, how we all seemed to flinch in the sunlight and drink some red coloured beverage, but she was too consumed in her grief. Neither of us saw it coming, not until we were both locked in the same room with minimal supplies of food and water and no chance of getting out.

"Why would he do this?" she asked, she must have asked it a hundred times while we were locked in that room and everytime I gave her the same answer.

"To teach me a lesson." He wanted me to break my vow, He wanted me to kill her, to teach me that it was futile to resist, that there was no way out, this was what I was now.

Yet, resist I did, or at least, tried to. After what I think was a week, the food ran out and Mary took to desperately yelling and beating on the door, grazing her knuckles in the process. And the smell. The blood.

I can still remember the look in her eyes. The shock, the fear, the pain and then: nothing, just emptiness.

I heard her door shut behind me, I didn't turn around, at the time I didn't know what it was. One of my biggest regrets is not turning around, not seeing her off, not explaining. But then again, what would I have said?

About an hour later He came into the room. Put His arm around me, kissed my head, my cheek, told me how proud He was of me, His princess. I was stunned, I don't think I could have said anything even if I tried.

And that was it. That was the moment that I gave up the last little bit I had left of myself. The moment I let Him own me, let Him destroy me. That was how Lady Jane Mawer died.

But don't go thinking that was the end.

So this chapter was pretty depressing, but it will get better. Promise.

I hope you enjoyed, reviews very welcome.

Oh, and reason to come back: Part 2 is called 'Hal'

Thank you for reading x