So I was all about getting another chapter of this story out there. I really do like where this is going. I see alot of favorites but no comments. No fair guys! J/k but seriously opinions matter. Anyway, I hope that you enjoy and no I do not own Vampire Diaries. Yeah, still not a reality :P

Shadow Girl

I. Captive

Relations (Say Apollo had to break 'em)

Creation (It's a gift, a blessing)

Incarceration (What keeps you down)

Determination (What gets you out)

Equation (When they said you could make it)

Humiliation (What you feel when they say it)

Reincarnation (Say N-A-V)

Situation (Why we've got to sing)

Elation (So many in need)

Identification (Gives you the right to shoot)

Retaliation (What would it do)

Education (Gives you the right to do)

Inspiration (What pulls you through)

No substitution (Try to substitute)

Non-inclusion (Just got to bust through)

Drug infusion (For the chosen few)

Mass confusion (When they say that they died for you)

Delusion (Say that the dreams don't come true)

Solution (It can take a hold of you)

Conclusion

Inspiration (Is what pulls you through)

-From Citizen Cope's Let the Drummer Kick

"It is not wise to despise the snake for having no horns,for who is to say it will not become a dragon." Quote from 'Noodle' of the Gorillaz

Mystic Falls, May 16, 1859

*Captive*

She should be grateful, for the weather at least. That was what she told herself as she stood there in her cleanest dress. She had braided her hair the night before, used the very sweat from her brow to make her hair shine, spit on her hands to make them more clean. She had to be taken in by a kind owner and that was all there was to it. She could not think of circumstance that was outside of her control. Like mother. Like her two brothers. She forced a lump down her throat, flinched as the cart that held her and the other slaves jostled on the dirt road. She wished she wasn't there. She wished that her life were her own, that her skin were the right color. She cursed circumstance, it was the reason that chains were clanged tightly over wrist and ankle.

"Don' be gettin' any thoughts in your head girl," one of the older slaves scowled at her. She turned her head away, looked down at her feet. Her previous master said she had a willful streak about her. He'd said he would scour out the filth in her and teach her the way things "ought to be". But the slaves of New Orleans had taught her one thing; there was magic, there was a way to be free.

Taking night trips to the bayou with her mother,to the swamp that teemed with life, her mother taught her that power was everywhere and she could use that to her advantage. On top of that her mother had given her a gift, her grimoire. It had been handed down, from her mother's mother and her mother had had it translated into English by one of the other slaves. She knew how to feel her power but she needed the grimoire to tell her how to use it, make her own circumstance, get back to her family and flee as far north as possible, maybe west in the wild country.

The wagon finally letting off in what appeared to be the town square. She could hear the people clamoring outside eager to look at the "merchandise". Her mother told her not to hate the white men, that they were not so different from them. She said that the same kind of slavery happened in Africa, that prisoners of war were made slaves of in their captives' village. The door to their container was opened and one by one they were led to a makeshift stage. She lifted her skirts swiftly, so as not to trip on the stair.

Her mother had told her that people would touch her if they could, that they would make her feel as if she were little more than an animal. So she kept her eyes cast down and prayed that her circumstance would change for the better.

*Captive*

The man who had purchased her was certainly not a talkative man. He had a stern face and asked only that she remain quiet and out of the way during the journey home. He did not tell her what he expected of her and she did not know if she were even allowed to ask. His name was Salvatore, that was all she knew. As money exchanged hands and irons were traded for rope, she heard the name pass between the slaver and her new owner.

"Didn't know that you'd come around t' buy, Salvatore. Thought the Founders frowned upon that. But you'll see, she'll come in real useful," the slaver said with a lewd wink. He had reminded Henriett of a lizard, cold quick and speculating. He shifted when Salvatore glared back. Her new master nodded to her once and she followed with a quick curtsy.

"Am I...to be a handmaiden for your wife,"she finally asked after hours on the road.

He said nothing and Henriett felt her cheeks burn at her boldness. Talking out of turn would not earn her any favor with a new master. She silently chided herself and then voiced an apology.

"It was not an errant question, better it be for you to ask a question that will aid you in your task, than a frivolous one." It was faint but there was almost amusement in the older man's voice.

"Like where I am? Master?"

He scowled, clucking the horses to a faster canter before answering. "You are in Mystic Falls, we don't get up to much around here but it is a good Christian place. Your previous master did he ask that you call him as such?"

Henriett knew that he noted her hesitation before answering. She was glad that he did not ask about her pause.

"I was only to address him as Master or Master Johnson."

"Well, the highest title I'll ever demand is sir or Mr. Salvatore. I do not rule over lives or the rights to a person's name. You have my respect until you have lost it, understood?"

"Yes...sir."

"Good. Now what may I call you?"

"Uh-my name...my name is Henriett."

"It is good to meet you. You are to help keep the house running smoothly. My two sons are also living with me. They will not bother you as you go about your work, do not worry about that. Also, I do not take with slackness or stupidity so you will begin taking lessons with my youngest son, Stefan."

"Yes...sir."

"We'll work on that too," he said with something like amusement in his voice.

Henriett stepping through the doors of the stately Salvatore home, had not known what to expect. The journey to her new home had proved that Giuseppe Salvatore was not the average slaveowner. Stepping into Mystic Falls proved that it was unlike any place she had ever seen. It was a small yet bustling community, many people stopping to say good day to her master. He responded almost distantly but with an air of congeniality that it was made alright. That first day of appearing in town Henriett was sure to only follow a few steps behind. The horses had been taken by a young teenage boy, about twelve. He introduced himself as Nathan with a quick tip of his hat, before taking horse and buggy away.

They'd entered, Mr. Salvatore withdrawing a silver key. He opened the door and let her enter first. She glanced back and he must have seen the confused look on her face.

"Slave or no, you are still a lady. I haven't time to aid you in the goings-on of the household. However, my son Stefan will be arriving from town later in the day. I will show you to your room and perhaps you can rest or get settled until then."

She followed him, still completely unsure. Her old master never regarded her as human or at least not completely. Master Johnson was a cruel and deceitful man. What he enjoyed was being evil for its own sake. There was another reason that her mother had gotten her away from Johnson, something she'd begun to notice as she grew older in his household.

Mr. Salvatore ventured up gleaming wooden stairs and Henriett palms slightly wet, gripped the banister. A short woman with large coiffed white hair curtsied quickly to Mr. Salvatore before clipping down the stairs to go about her business. There were severe paintings of stark nature, their frames guilded with gold. She would have stopped to observe the paintings but she feared losing Mr. Salvatore.

Finally, the last door, of the first hallway, was where the two of them stopped. Henriett felt her throat grow dry. She clenched her skirts, her eyes too afraid to meet his. He opened the door and gestured for her to enter. But stopped, as he turned to look at her.

He sighed. "I do not know what your previous master was like, though I begin to form a base opinion of him. Neither I, nor anyone of this household will hurt you in that way, ever. If you are to be punished it would be in all fairness and if there is reward," he said opening the door, "it is well earned. Welcome to the Salvatore home, Miss Henriett."

"Thank you, Mr. Salvatore," she said stepping into the room. It was sparse, but it was much more than what she had ever had. There was even a shelf with books. She stood in the middle of the room, moved to touch the goosefeather bed that had been neatly made in the corner. There was a desk at the far end and a large window that let the afternoon sun dapple the oak furniture. She turned to look back at him.

"What have I done...to deserve this?"

"You have done exactly as I've asked and you've been...brave. Things will be different here in Mystic Falls, you'll see."

After he closed the door behind her Henriett looked down at her arm.

"Show me," she said to her forearm. A white cloth of resin bandage appeared around her entire arm. On it were indigo symbols, words of the English language that would eventually set her free. For now, the everchanging symbols made no sense, could not help her but it was as Mr. Salvatore had said.

"Things will be different here. Now, disappear," and the cloth shimmered from view.

Mystic Falls, June 20, 1859

*Captive*

"Do you ever speak," Stefan asked her.

Henriett glanced up from her parchment to look over at Stefan. Just as Mr. Salvatore had said, lessons began almost immediately. She was to be present during Stefan's lessons and she was to receive her own during his break periods. It was the time when her lesson was soon to begin and he started his lunch. He had bade the tutor, Miss Adelaide to take her own lunch at her leisure.

So there they sat, no alphabet and word pronunciations between them. She frowned at the question and resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"I speak, sir."

"Well-yes-yes, right now, you're speaking but what I meant was, do you ever have anything to say?"

"Such as?"

"Surely you must have a past, an interest, any-"

"I'm a slave, sir. What's goin' on now is something very different than what real slaves go through."

"And what's that?"

"What is what?"

"I want to know. I want to know what slavery has been for you, why it's different for you here. Why don't you ever say anything, Henriett?"

"This was how I was...brought up. Being quiet keeps you from being noticed. My owner previous...you wanted to keep from bein' noticed. May I go see if Miss Adelaide is ready for my lesson, Mr. Salvatore?"

"Uh, yes, that's fine."

"Thank you, Mr. Salvatore," she said as she stood to curtsy. She turned to leave but was stopped by the young Salvatore almost immediately.

"Look, I apologize for the personal tone that I took with you. It was wrong. It's just that...if you can't already see," Stefan said walking around to face her, "Mystic Falls isn't like other areas of the South. We're an accepting community."

Henriett didn't know what to make of the sincerity she saw in the young Salvatore's eyes. She didn't see deceit, something she could spot from a mile off after her previous life.

"Maybe you're right. Maybe things are dif'rent here but I will discover that for myself. I've two eyes and two ears, and two legs so's I can use 'em wherever I may go. But...thank you Mr. Salvatore-"

"Stefan. Just call me Stefan. And since I'm not your master, maybe it could be possible to be friends, instead?"

"Stefan," she said. She nodded and left to go fetch Miss Adelaide for her and Stefan's lesson.

Mystic Falls, July 4, 1859

It was hustle and bustle at the Salvatore household, in celebration of Mystic Falls' annual firework display. Henriett had seen many a flashy show in Louisiana, her master more than fond of the holiday's drinking and festivity. For a short while she had been one of the head coordinators of the dinners, dances and fireworks of her previous household. Her mother had been in charge but in that last year had passed the duty to her daughter. At the Salvatore home she'd been placed in position of the staff, her ability to organize and delegate work something that the head Salvatore had spotted almost immediately. Her routine in the household did not vary in the sense that she worked hard throughout the estate but every day she learned something new. Once after lessons, Stefan had coerced her and Miss Adelaide to enjoy a picnic near the rose gardens. The sun had been a balmy yellow, not too hot for a summer day. A gentle breeze would whisper amongst the flowers and summer grasses. Never had she experienced such a peaceful outing, felt that free. Though she hadn't spoken during their little break from schooling she'd smiled more than once at Stefan's easy banter with Miss Adelaide and laughed at his small anecdotes of his life in Mystic Falls.

She wanted the event to be spectacular, for the night to be something memorable for everyone in town. It was then, as she had just sent away one of the servants to fetch the larger fireworks for the canoneers, finished polishing and cleaning the house till it shone, with Nathan, a few of his friends and two other slaves, Megan and Maybel, twins, that Damon Salvatore opened the door.

When Damon Salvatore entered she eyed him shrewdly. The way he walked in, hands tucked into his dark slacks made her raise a brow. As he entered the main hall, he glanced at her assorted team, Bucky, a lanky fifteen year old waved brightly.

" 'ello Damon, sir. Holiday just begun?"

"Yes it has," Damon smiled clapping the youth on the shoulder. The other boy smiled, some of his chums laughed along, including Nathan. Henriett frowned. She'd heard about Damon enough to know that he could cause trouble. Mr. Salvatore had spoken of his older son's coming, told her about his drinking and frolicking after every female in the town. When he spoke of Damon he spoke of someone spoiled and cocky. Maybe she could change that. She moved through the small gathering, touching Nathan's shoulder, who in turn nodded for the others to get back to work. She smoothed her red dress, a lovely cotton red, with white sleeve and collar. She'd sewn it herself getting the material at the tailor's with the small allowance she'd been given. She curtsied and he acknowledged with a nod of his head a smirk on his lips. Apparently he was one of those young dandies that thought they were true gentlemen. She'd met more than a few, there'd been one from every parish during the extravagant parties her master liked to throw.

"Hello Mr. Salvatore, my name is Henriett. Your father wished for these young men to put up the rest of the decorations as quickly as possible. Could you help? You look very able and seem more refreshed than some of my aids here," Henriett said gesturing to the youngest child, Max, of ten years.

"Uh, of course...Henriett." He offered a grin, took it back and awkwardly went to help Max, who was in the process of delivering wine to the luncheon party outside.

She nodded politely, curtsied again before heading out into the summer sun. She was learning her letters as fast as she could, which Stefan and Miss Adelaide had remarked, was at a very fast pace. Mr. Salvatore had given her a high rank among his subordinates, practically negating her status as slave in Mystic Falls. Her bandage was no longer a complete mystery, small words no longer meaningless gibberish.

She curtsied, moving sedately among the guests. Music was played by a small band on the makeshift stage she and two of the larger servants had quite strategically put together. All of the families had gathered, Mr. Gilbert, quiet Mr. Fell and his lovely wife Honoria, even the mayor and his family had attended.

So when a firework whistled out of the house and sent several of the guests screaming and running in the opposite direction, Henriett could not account for it. She turned to see Damon grinning snidely before disappearing indoors once again.

Fine, she would play his silly game, and win. She hurried out amongst Mr. Salvatore's guests, easing their worry, offering to get more refreshments, helping to find dropped items. Afterward, she would show Damon Salvatore what she was made of.

Thoughts? I'm slowly shaping this character, she's kind of growing on me. If no thoughts just leave an opinion on Henriett, I'm curious. And yes, I know, not much Damon in this chapter but he'll be very present in the next one, promise.