Albania
(1947 - 1957)

December 10, 1951

After our fight that morning, I cried up in the clouds until I had no more tears left. Afterwards, I wandered the prettiest parts of the snow-covered forest, remembering the locations from my diadem searches. It was refreshing to walk in whatever direction I wanted and whatever speed I wanted. As soon as it was lunchtime, I came to the all-encompassing realization that I was stuck here in Albania. There was absolutely nothing else for me in the rest of the world.

That lead to the next realization that I would eventually have to go back to the shack on the cliffside. But I didn't have to go right away. I knew there was some leftover food from last night hidden in the larder. With a swing of my wand, I transported the leftovers in front of me and ate my picnic on the mountain side with the view of the valley in front of me.

As I ate, I couldn't help but think of Tom and how hungry he probably felt. I hoped he was hungry, and I hoped it was a painful kind of hunger.

Having the time and surroundings to clear my head made me absolute in one fact: I would no longer tolerate being treated so insignificantly, whether he was Lord Voldemort or not. Even Romule showed me more respect in the past couple of weeks than I had gotten from Tom. This would continue no longer; my heart cannot allow it. I may have gone along with it when I was younger, determined to see through past the hurt to get what I wanted. Now my desires had evolved. Now I wanted respect and not have it determined by his mood.

I battled over the meaning of his awful words in my mind all day, but I couldn't figure out if he had told me truth or lies. If he said the truth this morning about not caring about me and that I was only a servant to him, then the past two years were a lie. It couldn't be a lie, though! He couldn't have lied about all of it, it's too wild to imagine he would waste his time tricking me. His feelings had to be real - but then what about this morning? If the past was the truth, then his bitter words this morning were a lie.

But his actions ever since the failed horcrux-attempt proved his indifference to me. Can the truth be a lie at the same time? Was it always one or the other? Did he love me or did he not?

It wasn't until the sun began to set across on the golden horizon did I squeeze out the last of my tears. I Apparated back to the shack on the cliffside in the early twilight. A half moon sparkled up at me from the sky, indifferent to my problems. I desperately wanted to run away, permanently, but I had no where to go. Yet, I dreaded to go inside and face this unresolved conflict.

I slowly turned the doorknob open and walked into the unusually cold and dark house. This was because he had been without magic all day - oh dear. Although I didn't want to be so obvious with my arrival, I had to make the space livable. I magicked wood into the stove and lit a fire. Then I swept my wand around as I walked about the room to alight all the candles. I didn't want to look at him, but I couldn't help it.

There was Tom, sitting upright on the bed almost exactly how I had left him. There were a few things out of place in the shack, but it was probably due to when he shouted at me as I left. His face was turned away from me to stare at the window on the opposite side of the house. His arms were crossed lightly around his chest, and he breathed slowly. He was alive and awake but doing a great job of ignoring my presence.

We didn't say a word as I made myself a large pot of potato soup and bread. The air felt so thick with unsaid feelings, but it was better than the alternative. There was no way I could stay in here much longer, but my heart convinced me I should give Tom some sort of nutrition before I left again.

I didn't dare to look at him as I set a large bowl of steaming soup on the nightstand. He was a statue, and I quickly left with my food and some nightwear to go to Tom's office cabin.

I lit up the candles in Tom's smaller shack and sat at his desk to eat my soup. It was amazingly exhilarating to be able to do what I wanted like sit at his desk and go through his papers. I didn't have to worry about any consequences. There was nothing he could to me now. I should be able to be free like this all the time. After half the bowl was emptied, I spied a familiar black leathered diary.

I opened up the diary and flipped through the pages. Empty as always, but I knew the secret. If I could communicate to diary Tom, I might glean some information that would help me decide what to do next.

I couldn't hide in his shack until he got better. That wouldn't work at all. He might not even get better without my help. After mulling over the possible situations for Tom and myself, it quickly came to me that the best solution would be if Tom apologized and kept his emotions under control. Though it was the best, it was not the most realistic; Apparating to the moon seemed more likely.

I let the black leather book fall open to its most comfortable page and dipped a quill in the ink well.

Hello Tom, it's Eva Smith again.

The ink absorbed into the paper after a few moments. There was no response for a good minute, but I was patient. Eventually, words formed on the page.

What is today's date?

I had to think about it for a while, but then I saw a corner of a calendar stacked between parchment notes on the side of the desk. After scanning and calculating what today would be I wrote back quickly, irritated by Tom's universal rudeness.

Today is December 10, 1951. You tried to perform a horcrux spell about two weeks ago but it didn't work. Now you are stuck in bed, unable to stand with an immense pain in your chest.

Why on earth are you writing to me? Shouldn't you be in there taking care of me?

I pinched the quill tightly in frustration. Why did I imagine this Tom would be any better than the other one?

Because you're an awful beast of a man and drove me out of the house with death threats.

The part of Tom's soul trapped inside of the diary wrote back half a minute later.

Tell me exactly what happened with the horcrux spell.

I wrote out everything from beginning to end, and when I had finished I stared at my faded words shocked. I was able to communicate to someone about Tom's horcruxes. It must be a loophole out of his spell that he never expected.

I waited for the longest time, wondering if he decided to just stop communicating all together, just like the current Tom. Suddenly, sentence after sentence began to form.

Based on my thorough study of horcrux creation along with the many potential methods of failure, what you're describing is the failure of the secondary soul piece to be properly torn away from the primary. The resulting reaction is the spell will consume the entire soul, leaving the caster soulless and therefore, for all intents and purposes, dead. Obviously I am still alive, so I was powerful enough to keep it from taking my entire soul. I'm impressed.

Of course Tom would be impressed with himself.

Is that the explanation for why your heart was almost ripped out of your chest? That is what Romule said the damage looked like... He is a certified Healer now.

Yes. The heart is the physical representation of the soul on this plane of existence.

But why didn't the soul tear this time? It worked fine the first two times...obviously.

If properly done, the spell will remove the fully torn soul portion and embed it into the object chosen by the caster. It can be painful but no physical damage is done. My best guess of what happened this time is: the tear I made in my soul wasn't fully separated from the primary portion. That is caused by either the secondary soul piece reattaching to the primary, due to remorse for the act of evil, or the primary reattached to the secondary, due to by a change of the soul itself. The exact reasons are unknown as there are only a few cases of completed horcrux spells.

I wasn't sure if diary Tom was trying to overload me with information to confuse me, but I almost regretted asking him. The only thing I could gather before the words faded away was that something changed in Tom from when he made the first two.

What was the vessel for this horcrux to be?

Helga Hufflepuff's golden cup. You obtained it by murdering my aunt Hepzibah Smith.

Again, he didn't write back right away. I was left waiting in worry, staring at the page and hoping for a response.

This is your fault. I don't even understand why you are still here!

I reread his words, again and again until they disappeared. It was my fault now? What is wrong with this man? Why was everything, the entire world's problems, my fault? I picked up the quill again and began to write with a fever, spilling all of my unsaid thoughts out.

There is something absolutely and terribly awful about you, Tom Riddle. Nothing I ever do is right and everything wrong is my fault! That doesn't even make logical sense, but you're supposed to be the smartest man on earth? What you really are is a purposely miserable boy who wants to make every around him suffer as much as you think you suffer.

Why do you even complain to me? I don't want you here, I never wanted you here. I kept telling this to myself, but the current me is unbelievably stupid and won't listen. He thinks I'm immature, but I know everything he knows. All his entries are engrained into me. And after all this time, I never understood why he keeps you around. At Hogwarts, I had no choice but to make you useful, but now, when I have the whole world available, I find it 'necessary to have Eva by my side'! Always, he's writing how necessary you are. At first I thought it was only to do with the vampire prophesy. And then he began to go on and on about you, and none of it had to do with any prophesy. It was more than I could take! I can't believe my future self is stupidly distracting himself with Eva Smith, of all people! I've lost sight of my real goal all because of YOU! You stupid girl, go away and don't come back.

A small smile curled on my face unexpectedly as I read and quickly reread the outburst written by Tom'a diary. The teenage Tom trapped inside certainly found no use in me, but it seemed that the current Tom disagreed. It was a strange feeling, reading the thoughts of Tom from the past comment on the situation of his future. It reminded me of how determined he was to rule the world at that age.

While the other boys were out playing sports, goofing off, getting into trouble or fooling around with girls, Tom was studying everything and anything to advance his magical abilities. I could never distract him from that. The only thing he found me useful for was to be his assistant. He found it more productive than me wasting my time stalking him.

Nothing else appeared on the pages, and I shut the book. Tom Riddle, the same horrible man imprisoned in the shack, told his diary that I was necessary and found it imperative to argue with his past self in favor of my presence. Was this the clue I needed to discern between the lies and truths about Tom's feelings for me? I lied in Tom's makeshift bed that night determining what exactly I should say and do tomorrow to bend Tom to my will.

The next morning, my heart thumped as I opened the main cabin door while the sun was still hiding behind the mountain-peaked horizon. I expected Tom to be up, as it was his usual hour, and my guess was correct. It was almost as if he hadn't moved an inch from where I left him last night. The only evidence to the contrary was the empty bowl on the nightstand. I casually made breakfast for myself with just a little extra in case somehow a miracle occurred and Tom acknowledged my new rules right away.

I sat at the dining table on the corner edge so that I could see him as I ate. After I swallowed a few bites, improving my chances of successful negotiation by filling my stomach, I ventured to speak.

"As you can see, I came back," I said, with a sense of strength and confidence. "But I refuse to go back on my word. I am done being your servant. I will make three meals a day when I feel like it, not when it is demanded of me. If you want something of me, you can ask me politely, and I will think about helping you or not. And, I expect you to behave properly and treat me with respect. If you agree to all of this, I will hand you back your wand."

Tom never turned to look at me, but I knew he heard. I saw his jaw flexing and his fingers grip his crossed arms. He didn't make any response. I wish he had, though. My ridiculous infatuation with his good looks had returned. Nothing would have made me happier than to resolve our conflict so I could go and lie with him in bed. Yet, I was going to be the master of my own emotions and not let him fling me around so. My heart was too weak to be smashed again by Tom Riddle.

I finished my meal and stared at the plate. "Fine. Your silence has determined your fate. Now, I'm going to take a walk, probably for the rest of the day - I'm not sure. But I will be taking your wand with me. If you want it back, and if you want me back, you will accept my conditions. Once you accept, you can't go back on your word or I really will leave you for good."

I stood up quickly before I could spill out any more of my feelings. The idea of leaving him for good made my heart heavy and my mind saddened. Perhaps that was what he really wanted? It was what his diary self wanted. It would be best to clear my head and go for another walk - maybe along the beach this time.

As the sun was flitting above the ocean, ready to end the short winter day, I went back inside to prepare myself dinner. To my surprise, Tom stared at me as I entered. His lips were pursed tightly, but his eyes were tired. Was he ready to compromise now?

Instead of walking to the kitchen as I planned, I slowly made my way towards Tom. I gripped his wand in my winter robe pocket, where it had been all afternoon. I was paranoid that he somehow had the ability to retrieve it whenever he liked, so I made sure to once in a while give it a firm grasp. Without his wand in my possession, I don't believe he would have agreed to my terms; neither would I have the courage to even force such terms upon him.

I stood next to him trying not to pity him, but it was difficult as I knew he must be terribly hungry. His eyes stared coldly into mine. It was his own fault, I told myself. His actions put him in this predicament, and only he could take himself out. He knew I loved him with all my heart, but I was through of being treated like trash.

"Would you like your wand back? If so, you must agree to treat me with respect and not like your slave... from now on and going forward."

He took a deep breath and muttered in a raspy voice, "Fine."

"Does that mean you accept?" Part of me hated to be so demanding, but the other part frightfully enjoyed giving Tom a taste of his own behavior.

He growled out, "Yes! I accept, now give me my wand and make me some food."

I half smiled at him. He didn't quite understand what he agreed to it seemed. "Well, I'll have to think about whether I'm going to make you food or not. You didn't ask me very nicely."

Tom began to frown and clenched his fists. Quickly, he turned his pale, good-looking face away from me and stared into the wall in front of him. I sighed and decided this was probably the best I would get from him at this point. I gently pulled out his wand from my pocket and lied it on the blankets in his lap. He quickly took it and held it as he folded his arms again. Tom kept his stare straight ahead of him.

Though he asked me all wrong, I couldn't leave him like this any longer. I made a huge meal from a frozen chicken I was saving for Christmas dinner. The leftovers should last until tomorrow's lunch, I thought as everything was cooking. Half an hour later, I handed Tom a large plate full of mashed potatoes, candied carrots, and half a roasted chicken. He started to eat right away, and a wave of regret in letting him go hungry washed over me. He never did that to me. Maybe I was as bad as him?

I went to fetch my own dinner, but Tom made a noise to grab my attention. His mouth was full, and he quickly chewed and swallowed while I stood by the bed waiting. I admonished myself for still waiting on him hand and foot, but I supposed old habits were hard to break. As long as he isn't a beast to me like he had been these past weeks - and off and on throughout our relationship -I don't mind attending to him.

Tom caught my eyes when he was done with his bite and said, in a much better tone than previously, "Bring a chair and eat with me."

Color had returned to his beautiful face, and I cursed myself for wanting to forgive him for everything he did, even his threat to kill me. But he agreed to my rules, and I was going to enforce them. I tried not to smile as I corrected him, "I don't take orders any longer."

He half rolled his eyes and twisted his mouth in an unhappy expression. "Will you bring a chair and eat with me?" he asked in a annoyed tone.

I smiled as my heart began to heal, and I ate my dinner next to him that evening.

Although we weren't openly fighting, the next few days were unfortunately awkward. Tom didn't quite understand that I was firm about what I said, and that I wouldn't be ordered around or complained to like I was some dog. We encountered a few small battles every other conversation to determine who could say what and how they were allowed to say it. It was like two chefs trying to run a kitchen - no one knew who was in charge. On top of it, the fact that he never formally apologized, though I gave him plenty of opportunities, was like a splinter caught under my fingernails. It only grew more aggravating as the days went on.

Romule returned a few days later to assess the patient and determine whether his bedrest would be over. Romule could not avoid the atmosphere that our tension caused; he quickly caught on that some feud exchanged between Tom and I. He very delicately inquired about Tom's bedrest, which was met with silence from both of us. Tom struggled for words while I found no reason to explain something that wasn't my problem. Romule eventually turned to me to ask if I could give them some Healer-patient privacy. I was more than happy to leave the two of them with an expectation that if our disagreement was brought up, Romule would have the decency and marital wisdom to side with me.

Almost an hour later, Romule found me reading in Tom's study and invited me back inside to discuss the next steps of Tom's recovery. Tom was now ready to begin walking, though it wouldn't come naturally at first Romule warned. Romule left me with another potion prescription to ease some of Tom's pain as well as a little book that gave diagrams of the exercises Tom was required to do. While Romule was explaining everything to me, I noticed Tom was thoughtfully quiet. His serious expression never changed, but I knew him well enough to see he was chewing over whatever Romule had discussed with him.

Near the end of the month, Tom was able to walk around unassisted except for the use of a simple, wooden cane he transfigured for himself. It was interesting to see him with it. When he first began to use the cane, Tom leaned on it with purpose, shifting his weight every so often after heaving a few painful breaths. It was very unlike how William Nott and Signore Amani held theirs. By now, with the exception of when an occasional strike of chest pain occurred, Tom held it more casually.

As encouraged by Romule, I helped Tom with daily exercises. Most commonly we took a walk through the nearby forest. I would hold his arm while his other hand held his cane. It was odd at first, helping the fearsome Lord Voldemort walk around our familiar backyard. After he wordlessly acknowledged the necessity of my assistance, our daily hikes turned into a pleasant ritual. It was different than searching for the diadem as we were far more casual and had no purpose to chase. Tom and I discussed lots of things during the hours we walked, sometimes of what sort of additional creatures he wanted to recruit for his army or how he planned on trying to fake his death so the Ministry wouldn't suspect Voldemort's true identity. Most of the time he declared his strong intent to make a human body once his strength was back.

No matter the potion Romule instructed me to make, his chest pain never quite went away. After an uphill walk, we usually had to rest a few minutes while Tom took a few deep, agonizing breaths. I knew it frustrated him to no end to be so feeble, but he took appropriate steps to avoid taking it out on me. Like a bad habit, hourly he would rub the breastbone of his chest to ease the pain of his heart. Tom said it was the magic that prevented it from healing correctly, but that worried me even more. Was he going to be weakened forever?

"No," Tom had said during one of our afternoon walks. "The pain decreases day by day, so eventually I will return to normal. But...this body feels depleted. I want another one." He continued to explain that during one of my searches for the Ravenclaw diadem, he captured a human soul from the nearby village into one of his forbidden soul stones.

"If you took the man's soul, does that mean he's dead?" I asked him later in the conversation.

Tom would normally give me a snide remark and call me foolish, but he was certainly trying to improve his attitude for me. "Since I have his soul, the body is therefore soulless," he said evenly, though I couldn't help but hear a touch of mocking. "He might as well be dead," Tom concluded.

This morning, a few days before New Year's Eve, he was feeling very high in spirits and declared to me as we ate breakfast that, "The day has come for us to practice making a human body." I stared at him, not at all wanting to do this. I'd seen enough failure with the rabbits to knowingly avoid imagining the scene in human form. I didn't have to help him if I didn't want to, I told myself. This is what I needed to be firm about with Tom, but there was a gleam in his eye that I hadn't seen for sometime. It made curious, and I decided to do as he wished.

I stood next to him as we set up the extra-large caldron over the same dead grass where the horcrux spell had backfired a month ago. We never talked about our fight, even after all this time. I tried to accept that I wasn't going to get an explicit apology, but it wasn't fair. I apologized all the time to him, sometimes for things I didn't even do! If he was really going to respect me, he should apologize. However, he hadn't changed back into the horrible demon he was in the beginning. Tom, almost amusingly after a while, went along with my new demands of speaking to me better. Last week, he began to thank me for every meal I made him, and I felt my heart grow stronger seeing him purposefully try to be decent.

Once the fire was blazing and the water was boiling, I made the potion just as we had done for the brown bear. When Tom dropped the black-colored soul stone, indicating that held a human soul, the potion turned white like snow and began to sizzle. In the prior times, the steam from the potion would transform into whatever animal it would become but not this time. Instead, there was a stale and musky smell in the air, and I started to become nervous. The liquid inside the cauldron turned into a black, tarry substance, and I waved my wand to put out the fire underneath the cauldron.

Just as with the bear, the ooze grew and shrank while the cauldron wobbled along with the changes. Tom was at my side, and I held his free arm as we slowly stepped away. I looked into his face. He was intensely studying the creation process, and I saw a great hope in his eyes wishing this would work the first time.

The black ooze stopped trembling, and the large cauldron grew still. I stared at it, wondering if it had failed already.

A black, sticky hand from inside grabbed the cauldron's edge. A shiver ran down my body, and I stood closer to Tom wearing a worried expression. An unearthly scream howled through the air as the rest of the human shaped tar rose out of the cauldron. It wasn't fully formed, but only a shadow of a human. Its head was the shape of a skull with holes for eyes, but I swore it was looking right at us. I clutched my wand in my winter robe pocket, and with my other hand I clung to Tom's arm. Even if this was the right method, I was terrified. Making animal bodies was like playing with clay, but this was like playing god.

The black thing screeched again, even louder than before, and clawed at itself with its melting hands. It continued this way for the next harrowing moments until it splashed against the cauldron's edge. The once-human figure melted into the ground and returned to it's liquid state. The smell from before became stronger and more putrid. I felt sick to my stomach and wished I hadn't seen such a terrible thing. I didn't dare question myself about what happened to the man's soul - it would only wreck my nerves further.

Tom pulled away from my grasp and walked over to the tarry ground, lightly using his cane. I almost expected him to be upset, but he was musing instead. "It appears human souls react differently than the animals'." He sighed stiffly. "Well, this is why I do experiments - to make sure I can replicate the process correctly." He grew silent, but I watched the wheels spinning in his head as he stared at our failed trial, calculating what must be done next time. He pulled out his wand, and his notebook and an ink-dipped quill whisked through the air into his hands. I couldn't stand to be out here in the fumes any longer, so I went into the bathroom to wash my face and calm my stomach.

Tom wrote notes the entire time I was refreshing myself, and we unexpectedly met as he opened the front door as I was about to exit. He blocked the way, with a smirk on his face, and drove me back inside. I looked at his hands, which were empty - even the cane was missing.

A noise of surprise emitted from my throat. "Where's your-"

Before I could finish, Tom quickly placed his hands on my waist and pushed me against the wall space between the door and the dining table. My eyes were wide with surprise. He was not as weak as he appeared.

I gasped and playfully smiled, "You don't need the cane anymore? Have you been faking these past few days to trick me?"

Tom's beautiful face was devilish as he pinned his body against me to the wall. His hands ran up my body, and my heart began to beat faster. I couldn't remember the last time we were intimate like this, and I grew warm from his touch. His hand trailed its way up to my face. He held my jaw while his thumb rested on my neck as he spoke.

"I hope you enjoyed your little power games because now your fun is over. Now, you're going to listen to me and do as I tell you." His eyes were hungry, and his other hand reached around to my back to press me closer to his body.

Although he may have said it in jest, a spark of indignation flamed inside of me. My smile wiped away from my face, and I became stiff to his touch. Being treated with respect wasn't a game! I folded my arms together in defiance.

"No," I said clearly while a small frown furrowed on my face. "I told you, I will not be your servant, or slave, anymore."

The smirk stayed on his face as he bent his head closer to mine. He didn't look me in the eye, choosing to stare at my body, as he said in a low voice, "You were the one who promised to serve me. Are you going to go back on your word?" His strong hands were groping me all over, and he gave me no chance to respond as his lips kissed my neck right on the spot that made me weak to my knees. I didn't want to show any pleasure from his attack, but I couldn't contain the little noises that burst from me. I hadn't felt this way in so long, and Tom was making me feel so wonderful.

No, I couldn't allow this to continue! This wasn't fair that he could trick me like this! I was angry at myself for being such an easy fool. I didn't want to it end, but if I continued he would win. "No, Tom, I'm serious..." I said breathily, trying to mentally overcome my body's desire to let him have his way with me. I pulled myself away from him as I spoke. "I'm serious - take me seriously!" He let go of me and glared.

I took a shaky breath and looked into his grey eyes. "You were awful to me, just awful! And you never apologized! I won't stand for that any longer."

His lips tightened as he continued glaring at me. "So you've decided that now is the time to fight again? You're very brave," he said sarcastically, "keeping this up without any leverage."

"Stop fooling around," I barked back. "I am demanding to be taken seriously, and you just want to pretend like nothing happened. Do you understand not to be so cruel to me again?" A flood of emotions burst through me as I remembered his words. "All the yelling and the hate pushed on me - you cannot treat me like that. You-you broke my heart and," I felt my tears bubbling up again as every sad feeling welled up in me, "I can't trust you any more."

His face became more inflamed, and he put his hands on his waist. "You're going to start crying now? You just want everything to be constantly broken, is that it?"

"It's this, Tom! You're not listening to me, you just want your way and won't even consider my feelings and how I want to be treated. Instead, you're so mean to me - but you can't do that to someone you love," I paused and reconsidered my words as his eyebrows raised, "...to someone you care about. And," I looked away, trying to contain the tears still fresh in my eyes, "at this point, if you don't care about me then - then... just kill me, like you said you would. Just kill me and be done with it because I'm not strong enough to handle a fake love from you." I breathed deeply, putting every fiber into my being to keep from bursting apart in front of him.

I kept looking away from Tom, so all I heard in response was a incredulous scoff. He was silent except for his heavy breathing. After some time had passed, he held his breath and then sighed. Gently, his hands wrapped around my waist again. I was surprised and looked up to his face. He wasn't upset any longer and only a faint annoyance highlighted his features. He took a deep breath, and his eyes scanned the room as he decided on his words.

"Eva... I'm not going to kill you. I-" he paused again and looked everywhere but at me. Finally, he spoke in a half-irritated, half regretful manner. "I didn't mean to say that. I shouldn't have said that." I was momentarily shocked by his response. Was this the apology I had been waiting for? Would he ever say the words "I'm sorry"?

His eyes rested upon mine, and he pulled me closer to the warmth of his body. "I won't say that again to you, all right?"

I pulled my eyes away from him and looked onto the floor to my right. I needed to hear more from him, not only that he would no longer threaten to kill me. That was an easy thing to promise.

"What about the other things you said? About how you don't care for me and I'm only a servant to you." I turned to stare at him with determined expression. "Was that true?"

Tom purposefully put on his charming face and gave me half a smile. His hands linked behind my back. "Eva, I said a lot of stupid things back then that I didn't mean. The pain was... some of the worst I've endured. I don't think you would have behaved much better than me in my position. And you were the one who took my wand and ran off to who knows where for who knows how long, leaving me to starve!" He almost laughed out his last words, as if he couldn't believe it had really happened.

"Who knows how long?" I repeated. "I came back later that day! You should have known that, seeing as I have no where else to go. And I didn't leave you starving."

"What?" he laughed unconvinced. "You absolutely starved me - for two days!"

I stared at his chest, going over my memories of our fight. I suppose he didn't get a proper meal for several days. "I fed you eventually, and you appear to have managed just fine."

His hands unlatched, and he squeezed my side causing me to unexpectedly giggle. "You just wanted to break my will so that I'd follow your little demands." I tried to make my smile go away as I pushed his hands off of me, but I did a poor job of both. My eyes locked onto his, and I said as seriously as I could, "I wanted you to treat me properly."

As if on cue, a wicked grin grew across Tom's face, and he moved his hand to the back of my head. His other hand slid down my back and grabbed my rear to push my hips close to his. I let out a small gasp, and he put his lips to my ear to whisper, "Of course I can treat you properly princess." There was nothing I could do but melt at his words. Perfectly, he kissed my neck again, and no longer did I have any willpower to resist him.

Tom moved his lips to press against my own, and I gladly accepted. As we kissed, his hands worked hard to remove as much of my clothing as possible. Eventually, everything obstacle was eliminated, and Tom lifted up my hips as I leaned against the wall. Once he was inside of me, I gave an aroused cry. I almost forgotten how amazing he felt - why hadn't we been doing this all along? Tom caught my eye and flashed me an mischevious smile.

Briefly, I realized Tom tricked me again! Did he even say an actual apology to me? Did he verbally agree to respecting me from now on? All he did was flirt with me and got me to take off my underwear. Then Tom began to quickly rock his hips against me, and my mind turned off to fully appreciate the sensations. His fingers squeezed and held onto my thighs to hold me in the right position, while I cried out happily and put my hands on the back of his neck.

After a few minutes, Tom pushed into me one final time, but he groaned painfully. It didn't appear as if he had finished. Instead, I suspected his heart wasn't as healed as he wanted, and I became worried. His face was serious as he went to kiss me. He kept me pinned against the wall as his lips trailed down my jaw to my neck again. He gave it a bite, and I yelped in surprise. Slowly he pulled himself from me and set me down. He looked away from me as he rubbed his breastbone. So it was as I guessed - his heart must still be a little painful.

I grabbed his free hand and said, "Let's go to the bed. You'll be more comfortable there." Tom eyed me with a small grin.

Sometime during our romp I heard our stove buzz to declare the top of the hour, probably ten or eleven in the morning. It wasn't much later when Tom fell on the bed next to me, exhausted and unable to properly finish. I felt bad for him, but not terribly bad, since now he knew how I felt more than half the time.

To my joy, Tom pulled my naked body to his and embraced me on the bed. Feeling his skin and smelling him churned up my frustration that he couldn't perform as well as before. Yet I wasn't being very fair if I expected him be in prime shape after all he had gone through. Regardless, I was happy, very happy, to once again be caressed and comforted by Tom. A tiny voice in the back of my mind complained that he still hadn't done what I asked. But I gave Tom the benefit of the doubt; he did what he could to make up for our fight. I forgave him, but I was still going to evaluate his future treatment of me. I meant it when I told him I couldn't bear to live in a fake relationship with him.

Yet wasn't this proof that he cared for me, even that he loved me? He used his charms, of course, but he also called me his princess more than once. I couldn't be both his servant and his princess, could I?

I stared at Tom, whose eyes were closed. His face was truly a sight to behold, and I drank in his beauty. It amazed me that someone who looked like this could be such a monster at times. I was hesitant to ask and potentially upset him by my next question, but I felt like I had to hear it from his mouth on what he truly thought of me.

"Tom?" He didn't open his eyes but made a small grunt to indicate he heard me. "I want to know... am I your servant or am I your... princess?"

One of his eyes opened to stare at me, unamused by my question. His eyebrows frowned ever so slightly, and he closed his eye again to pretend he hadn't heard.

I knew I was on dangerous territory, but I wanted to get something from him, some audible proof that I was treasured and not being used by him. "Please, I just want to know what you think of me. Am I one or the other, or both?" Under my breath, I muttered, "I'd rather be your princess."

He never opened his eyes as he pulled up his hand to scratch an itch on his face. "Of course you would," he said tiredly. "But I don't have time to pamper you." He quit his itch and sighed. Next, he wrapped his arm around me and traced his fingers along my skin. After a while Tom opened up his eyes to look at me. "Look, don't take it so much to heart. You're Eva Smith and you are my -"

"Most trusted servant, I know," I said interrupting him and repeating his worn out title.

He grinned a little at me and said teasingly, "That might not have been what I was going to say, but now you'll never know."

I laughed at him in an annoyed fashion. "Oh really? I don't supposed you were going to call me your princess, were you?" My heart skipped a beat, imaging him really calling me such a name right now, especially when he wasn't trying to get me out of my dress.

"You would love it if I said so, wouldn't you?"

"So then say it!" I exclaimed, unable to stop my smile.

With an almost embarrassed smile and a glint in his eyes he exclaimed back, "I've said it before, why must I say it again?"

His arm wrapped around me tightly and our skin pressed together. My hands cradled his face as he stared into my eyes. This was love, it had to be. "Fine, you don't have to say it, but I'll say it. I'm your princess... and you can be my prince." I giggled at my apparent love drunkenness.

Tom put his forehead onto mine, bringing our lips inches apart. "No," he said in a low, soft voice. "I'm your Dark Lord."

AN - I hope you have enjoyed the recent updates this year. I'm glad I've been able to publish so many new chapters, and I have *finally* caught up to the troll chapter that was the original Chapter 28 back before I began updating in August '17. So for those of you who knew of my story before then, in the next chapter you will finally be able to read the troll encounter. I will be adjusting it a bit to fit with the current storyline, but it will be for the better!

Thank you so much everyone for the reviews, favorites, and follows. I spend a lot of time trying to write something entertaining, and I am very appreciative that others enjoy the story as much as me. Thank you again for your support!

The holidays are approaching and I'm afraid I can't promise any new chapters until 2018. I might get the troll chapter updated, but again no promises. I will definitely keep writing though and updating. The plot continues for at least six chapters, so expect to read them in 2018 :) I love to hear from any and every reader - I have lots of extra stuff for this story as I keep lots of notes and things to inspire me. I would love to share them with anyone who wants; just review or PM me :)

Happy holidays and happy readings! mrs.k