A/N: My take on Syl and Thadon's relationship. It will be written in parts, though each one is separate. The first section is from Syl's perspective, and the second Thadon's.

Paranoia chapter one: Him and Her

Syl had always been careful; after all, she knew there were people out to get her. She could feel their watchful gazes like an itch that couldn't be scratched. It was only a matter of time before they would act. Someone wanted Syl gone, but she wasn't going to back down without a fight.

Sly had always been careful. Some called it insanity, others called it wisdom, and some said it was paranoia. She didn't listen to the rumours that she was unfit to rule Dementia; no, Syl knew that there was nothing wrong with her – barring what was normal in the Isles, of course.

When she went outside, Syl changed her clothes and covered her hair so she wouldn't be recognised; it wouldn't do to be murdered on the streets of Crucible. She changed her eye colour, her posture, even her accent – all to prevent being recognised.

The day she met him, Syl was feeling daring. She knew that those plotting her murder were Demented, so she should be safe with the Manics, right? They were too caught up in their pleasures and drugs to notice someone out of place, or to be involved in a murder conspiracy.

The day she met him, Syl was making a trip to Bliss. She didn't care anymore; nobody knew it was her, so they could hardly call her a traitor. She would be fine.

That was until he came bustling past, knocking her shopping out of her hands and onto the ground. The Duchess had always shopped for herself; someone might try and poison her food or drink, and she didn't trust her attendants. Syl hadn't trusted anybody – until she met him.

They say that opposites attract, and this was certainly the case for them. As the Manic glared at the Duchess he felt something. Surely glaring at her wasn't nice – not this fine lady. Syl felt it too; a strange pull, a tensing of her chest – she couldn't breathe properly. Even so she ignored the strange attraction, choosing instead to snatch her things from the Aureal that had collected them.

As she stormed off, thoughts swirled around her head about the Manic. Syl hadn't felt like this before, and she hated it. She couldn't seem to keep her mind off of the strange man that had knocked her shopping out of her hands and her mind askew.

They say that opposites attract, but Syl didn't want to believe that she could be attracted to some- some- madman! Syl hated those simple-minded, drug addicted fools. Yet still the feeling persisted and developed, changing to a strange curiosity. She wanted to find out more about him – what he was like behind the title. Syl wanted to find out more about her Manic counterpart, and that disturbed her. She hadn't interacted with Thadon before, so why the sudden change of heart now? Syl had no idea what had gotten into her.

As she left the bright and cheery streets of Bliss, Syl hardly took note of her surroundings. Her thoughts were constantly turning to him. Syl had never met the Duke of Mania before; only heard about him. Then again, she had never set foot in Bliss before that fateful day, and now she never wanted to again.

It was his fault that she felt this way.

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Thadon was drunk – inebriated to the point of- of-

Well, he couldn't find the right analogy to describe this feeling, he was that drunk. Sober, Thadon had a way with words. A majority of the time he didn't make sense, but he still had skill in the crafting of sentences, paragraphs, and all those wonderful squiggly lines that people called an alphabet.

The reason he was so drunk in the first place was to forget something. He couldn't quite remember what he was supposed to be forgetting, so obviously it had worked.

Wait; there is was. Thadon had wanted to forget about an unfortunate incident in the square that afternoon. He had knocked into a woman, spilling her shopping all over the ground in the most wonderfully chaotic pattern – which was, to say, no pattern.

Then he had glared at her for being so clumsy as to walk into him. Honestly, people these days; no respect for authority. She hadn't even bothered to get out of his way, though perhaps it had been partially his fault.

No, it was entirely her fault. She had bumped into him, so she was to blame.

And yet part of Thadon didn't want to blame her. The beautiful, dark-eyed creature was far too innocent to blame. She had looked so shocked as he had bustled past and knocked her shopping to the ground. No – perhaps he was indeed to blame.

Part of him felt sorry for the poor wretch, and part of him was filled with the strangest curiosity. He wanted to know more about the strange woman, and that perturbed him.

"Ignorance is bliss, my friend," he muttered. Obviously he wasn't drunk enough yet.

Thadon picked up the bottle of wine once again, attempting to drown these strange thoughts with hard liquor.

A/N: So what did you think? I hope I captured their characters alright, though I'm not so sure. Please drop me a line and tell me what you think of it.