How did she get here? I stared down at the child in my arms, whose blood seemed to be drying. This didn't happen to her on this day, but what did? I was curious and confused all at once. She had looked so relieved when she saw me. The smell of her blood almost overwhelmed me, but my need to help her overpowered my desire to tear her to pieces. She had fallen asleep almost instantly, a single tear sliding down her pale cheek before her weak golden eyes fell closed.

I made my way back silently, retreating through the hidden entrance to the cellar as to not alert any of the residents inside the manor. The manor, or the castle rather, always seemed to reach the clouds from so far below. I glared as the clouds parted from the sun, and closed the barred door closed, sighing as the darkness of the tunnel cleansed my sight. The girl was sleeping so I didn't bother with torches or a magelight to guide me, not only could I see clearly, but I knew this path well. Father didn't approve of my sense of adventure, and often had one of his advisers follow me around in the day. He probably thought I couldn't control myself around humans or something, even though I visited the servants' quarters often. But that's mostly due to where my escape was found.

Leonde despised humans, so never dared to follow me to the cellar unless absolutely necessary, which as it seems, he hasn't deemed so. Yet. I recognized his silver hair anywhere and did my best to avoid him at all costs. He was a nuisance and I couldn't stand his constant questions about how I was planning to deal with my future. Leave that to my father and his council. Politics weren't really my thing.

Careful not to rouse the girl, I heaved her onto my shoulder, making my ascend up the ladder to a storage room. Upon reaching the top, I lifted the hatch, laying her on the cold floor so I could climb out. I closed the hatch and scooped her up, moving a shelf back into place with one hand. Without caution, I left the room, ignoring the shocked expressions of the human slaves as I walked by with a bloody child in my arms. They probably thought I attacked her.

I made it to the small, but still well stocked, healer's room that was hidden away in a corner of the slaves' quarters. Under these circumstances there was no way I could bring her anywhere else, and Prue was the only person I trusted to keep this a secret. I laid her down onto one of the cots, hearing the door lock behind me.

"For the love of Talos, Owen. What did you do?" I turned to see Prue hustling over to the cot. Her long platinum blonde hair splayed onto her back as she leaned over the girl.

"You know me better than that." I hissed, taking a step back. "I found her like that. If I hadn't taken her, she would've-"

"I know." Prue didn't look up to me, cutting the sleeve off her bleeding arm. The sight of the bone sticking out from her flesh made my head dizzy, and I had to kneel down beside the bed just not to fall over. "Calm down, Owen. I might need your help." As soon as Prue even tried to touch her arm, the girl woke up, panic clear in her eyes.

"Please don't!" She pulled away from Prue, sitting up and backing up to the headboard of the cot. A pained expression came across her face and she squeezed her eyes shut, closing her legs.

"I'm not going to hurt you, I'm a healer." Prue reached out slowly to the girl, trying not to scare her further."My name is Prudence. Can you tell me your name?"

"Ashlynne..." She whimpered, her voice quiet. She lifted her head up, tears visible in her eyes.

"That's a beautiful name, Ashlynne." Prue smiled at her, sitting down on the bed. "But I promise, I'm just here to help."

Ashlynne blinked, a series of tears slipping down her pale cheeks. "Will you make the pain go..away?" She struggled to say, the pain still clear on her face.

"Yes, dear, but it'll take some time. But you just have to trust me." Ashlynne nodded and let Prue guide her back to laying down. Her golden eyes watched Prue as she worked on her arm, cutting some skin in order to slide the bone back into place. Ashlynne cringed, her lip quivering.

"Ashlynne." Prue caught my attention, and I forced myself to look away from her pained face. "This is going to hurt...a lot. But I need to do this." Ashlynne nodded again, more tears spilling down her temple. She was trying to be strong. But as soon as Prue grabbed hold of her arm, Ashlynne reached out for me. She tightly gripped my coat.

"Prue, what is she-"

"Let her." Prue demanded, and I obliged, reaching up and slipping her hand into mine. She squeezed tightly, fear written all over her expression. Prue did her best to make it fast, snapping the bone back into place. Ashlynne let out a short scream, becoming alarmingly pale before losing conscientiousness. Prue soothed my worry before I could even ask.

"She's fine. I'd say that's normal considering how young she is." She quickly wrapped her arm and hung it from a sling around her shoulder. "That's the easy part. Clean that wound on her forehead, would you?" I nodded, turning to grab a cloth, dipping it into a bowl of water. I began to dab at the wound, staring confused at Prue as she positioned herself in front of Ashlynne. She spread apart her legs, bending them and pushing her skirt back.

"What are you doing?" I wiped the excess blood from her forehead. Prue didn't answer me, looking disturbed. "Prue!" She looked up at me, looking more than a little worried.

"Finish up and leave."

"Why? What's wrong?"

Prue sighed, glaring up at me. "Let's just say, I'm surprised she even let you touch her."

I narrowed my brows, staring down at her sleeping face. "Why would anyone do this to a child?" Anger seeped through my words like poison.

"Only she can tell us. But we'll have to wait. For now go find some clothes for her and maybe something to eat." Prue stood up, walking over to a cabinet and grabbing a needle and thread, along with some linen wraps. I quickly finished up, feeling sick. I left the rag beside the bowl, quickly leaving. I leaned against the door after shutting it, closing my eyes and sighing. She was only a little girl.

I punched the wall beside the door, leaving a crack in the stone. I quickly walked away, making my way past human cattle and slaves and climbing up the stares to the main level. I was only three paces away from the steps before a hand grabbed me by the shoulder, spinning me around. Not surprisingly, it was Leonde. He stared down at me with lazy dark red eyes.

He examined my coat, eyeing the blood that was left from carrying Ashlynne. "I thought you had finally begun to eat with the rest of the court?" Leonde questioned, not in the slightest aware that I had left the manor.

I shrugged his hand away, taking a step backwards. "What's the harm in having a little snack throughout the day?" I smirked, knowing at least that will irritate him.

"I hope you had the good manners not to kill it."

I frowned, hating the fact that he addressed humans as objects. "It was a she, and no, I didn't kill her."

Leonde hid his annoyance very well, turning on his heel and walking away from me. "Lord Valerian would like to see you before we dine for dinner."

Oh great. "What does my father want, Leonde?" I questioned, a little surprised. He ignored me and continued on his way. I scoffed, wondering what might be going through Leonde's head to just walk away from me. Father must have called him away, he is his adviser after all. I racked my brain, trying to remember if any of my sisters had kept their clothes from when they were children. Aretha. My twin sister kept keepsakes of her past, and often kept ones of our deceased mother. I wasn't given any, because according to Aretha, I murdered her.

Our mother Willow might not have died if not for her carrying us twins. Aretha came first and I, subsequently, killed our mother as she gave birth to me. Aretha has never forgiven me, as if it was really my fault. Although I'm sure our father has planted theories into her head by now. No matter what, I will end up inheriting my father's place as lord, although I don't wish to, I have no choice.

My eldest sister, Marina was already married away to Lord Cormac, a battle scarred vampire that wasn't always a pleasure to have over for dinner. He didn't follow the same rules as our clan did. Even though our family name was unknown, their were whispers throughout Cyrodiil of a clan that drank from the sleeping. A rumor, but none the less true. But since the birth of Marina and the death of my father's first wife, Ophelia, he implemented the change of having cattle instead of hunting in the nearby towns.

Father didn't want us to be savages and go mad with blood lust, so the controlled use of human slaves kept us sane. He rarely let anyone leave the manor, unless for special trips , but I've yet to go on one. But that doesn't mean I haven't been to the cities. I've snuck out many a time, remaining unnoticed for the main part by human citizens. Each time I go a little further, becoming more curious and more adventurous with each forbidden escape. Until today.

I pressed my ear to my twin sister's bedroom door, half expecting to hear her screaming at her fiance, but heard nothing. I figured she was probably ordering around our younger sister, Safiya. Safiya was the shame of our family. She was the only child of Augustus without the heretic black hair, and her mother was a Bosmer. She inherited most of my father's features; minus her dirty blonde hair, paled olive skin, and pointed ears. I don't know why my father suddenly bedded a Bosmer after two previous Imperial wives, but he must have had some reason. But secretly I thought that he actually fell in love for the first time. He took it hard after the death of each wife, but with Florence...He locked himself away for weeks, only accepting blood from light haired Bosmeri women. I think that was his way of grieving.

I turned the knob, waiting a moment before rushing inside, silently shutting the door behind me. I had been in Aretha's room before, but always in secret. If she knew how many times I'd been in her room without her permission, she'd probably kill me. I scanned her room, deciding the best place to search would be one of her dressers. I pulled out each drawer one at a time, one dresser at a time. I reached the final one and slammed it shut, and cursed as a candle fell off the surface of it, rolling under her queen sized bed.

I got down onto all fours, peering into the darkness underneath. The candle had stopped against a small box. I let out a gasp, grinning as I realized I found what I was looking for. I pull out the box, the candle rolling back to me. I set it down onto the dresser and lifted the lid from the box. A warm feeling filled my chest as I sifted through the items in Aretha's box. There was a silver brooch with emeralds that formed a flower, a white silk dress, a diary...I picked up the leather bound diary, immediately knowing that it was my mother's.

"You bastard!" Aretha tackled me before I even had the chance to look up. She scratched at my face, as I held her away from me, flailing her arms wildly as she screamed at me. "My room! And my mother's things! What do you think you're doing, you...fuck!" I threw her off of my as she slashed my face with her sharp nails. I shot to my feet, backing up several feet.

"She was my mother too!" She charged at me, and I easily blocked her, throwing her onto her bed. "Enough, Aretha!"

She glared at me, sweeping her hair back, her eyes dark with rage. "What gives you the right to break into my room?" She hissed, sliding off her bed.

I changed my posture to something more passive, hoping to ease her aggression. "I...I was looking for one of your old nightgowns."

She scoffed. "What are you? A pervert?"

"No, Aretha, it's not like that..." I let out a sigh, passing a hand through my hair as I stressed over my next words. "I found a girl outside...she was terribly hurt..."

"A human?" Aretha stared blankly at me, waiting for me to answer her. I slowly nodded, preparing for her to lash out at me. She walked right past me, heading towards the opposite side of her room. She stood before the large bookcase standing there before pulling away books, letting them fall to the floor. I jumped, being caught off guard as the first book slammed loudly against the wood paneled floor. She pushed her hand into the depths behind the books, pulling out a white folded nightgown. She brought it over to me and waited for me to take it from her hands.

I grabbed the nightgown, but she didn't release her grip. She pulled, bringing me closer to her. "You owe me, Atticus. And I don't want to hear anything about this girl you found." She shoved the nightgown into my hands and I quickly fled towards the exit. I opened her door, stopping for a moment to turn to look at her.

"Don't tell father." I whispered to her, leaving her room completely, tucking her old nightgown under my coat. She had worn it around the same age as Ashlynne, so hopefully it would fit her. I hurried off to the kitchen, peeking inside to make sure there were only slaves. There was, so I headed in, knowing they feared me and wouldn't dare tell if I stole food.

"I need a meal made." I announced out loud, not really addressing anyone in particular. One of the chefs shuffled over to me, bowing her head. I leaned towards her, almost offended that she didn't back away. "I need food for a child, can you think of anything she might like?" I whispered into her ear. She thought for a moment, then nodded.

I sat down and waited patiently, watching with interest as the plump woman set away with her cooking, boiling water over a fire, and cutting potatoes. She took care of every detail, testing the soup she was clearly making after adding each ingredient. When the soup was finished, she placed a bowl full of it onto a silver tray. She moved away and quickly came back with a cup of milk.

"Anything else, m'lord?" She asked, folding her arms in front of her. I thought long and hard, searching the room. My eyes locked onto a freshly baked tray of desserts.

"One of those."

The chef grabbed one and placed it onto a napkin and then onto the tray. "A snowberry crostata?" I nodded, taking the tray. I muttered my thanks before taking my leave. I kept a fast pace to the slaves' quarters, being careful as to not be seen. I placed the tray onto my open hand, knocking with my other. The door opened immediately and Prue let me in, locking the door behind me.

Ashlynne's bloody tunic lay in a basket beside the cot, only a blanket covering her small body. She was still sound asleep, so I set the tray down on a table next to the cot. Prue examined the food, looking pleased.

"Potato soup?" She looked up at me and smiled. "Hopefully she wakes up before it gets cold." I nodded, sitting down beside her. She looked so peaceful.

"Why did you save her, Owen?" Prue questioned, now looking very serious. "There must have been some reason."

I didn't take my eyes off of Ashlynne as I answered. "I couldn't bare the thought of her being torn apart by one of those monsters." I reached over, barely gracing my fingers across her cheek. "She needed my help."

Prue was dead silent for many moments. "You're one of those monsters too, Owen."

I squeezed my eyes shut, pained by how horrible that truth was. "I will never hurt her." I pulled my hand away, turning to Prue. "Not all vampires are like my father, Prue." I stared at her motionless face, trying to understand what could have possibly brought her here to me. She left a terrible misfortune just to be saved by a monster like me.