Love or Blood

Chapter Twenty One: Déjà Vu

xxxx

"My dear lady, you look distressed. May I be of some assistance?"

I looked up at this man who stood before me. His presence was striking. He was very tall, though not as tall as the Count, and not as richly dressed. Even though he stood a good distance away I felt that he was looming over me. The corners of his mouth pulled upward into something resembling a smile, though I felt it wasn't genuine. I swallowed hard as I looked him over. He was handsome, but don't trust men. I never have. They and I simply don't get along; the Count has proven to be the only exception.

I found myself leaning backward into Tualga. However she didn't seem to notice my hesitance towards the man and began speaking to him. "That's very kind of you sir, but I think I got littl'Lynn here under control."

"Control?" He questioned, though still remained smiling, more so I thought. "Whatever would cause two lovely women such trouble that they must restrain one another?"

Tualga ate up his charm. "The baker." She offered easily. I knew Rheena would talk of Tualga's flirtations with the townsmen but for some strange reason I did not believe her. Now whilst pressing my back into Tualga's apron, I mentally scoffed at my arrogance. "Apparently her and him 'ave a history, and not a good one at that!"

I tilted my head a bit to stare daggers at Tualga but stopped abruptly as the man spoke to me again this time. "You have a vendetta against the baker?" He chuckled lightly, "I couldn't possibly image what he could have done to wrong you so. Though I thought I heard the mention of blood…"

"That was her alright! Sounded like a whole other person to me." Tualga chirped, "She's quiet but damn fiery too!" I groaned, small but enough to make my irritancy known to Tualga. I felt like I was a girl again, walking the Anvil docks with my mother. We'd pass the cawing sailors and she delighted in their jeers and encouraged it. I wanted to crawl into a barrel of dead fish. "Oh," Tualga shifted slightly, realizing that I was not a specimen to be talked about.

"Not fond of being praised?" He asked. Unfortunately for me this man was equally perceptive. "Well, I can only imagine how 'fiery' you are, though you seem silent now." He did not come any closer but his smile grew. His arms stayed folded behind his back and he eyed me, I felt it was dangerous yet appraisingly; like when a butcher makes his first slice into thick bloody meat. I suppressed the shudder that crept up my back. "May I help you in anyway?"

He was asking me this- directly addressing me again as I stood frozen in front of Tualga. His eyes were so dark that they were near black in color and they were searching me. I felt as though I had been struck by the Gods and turned into stone.

I wetted my lips. I was safe now, under the Count's protection and only out from under his wing for a few short hours. The Count made sure that I was protected and escorted. I had come too far to be stuck dumb by some townsman. "There is nothing, sir." I let out a small breath and tried to raise my chin a bit to him. "But I thank you for your concern. Farewell." I tried to smile friendly at him, but all I managed was an awkward tilt of my mouth.

I turned and nodded to Tualga. "W-we should go visit the Chapel now-"

"Are you quite certain that I can do nothing?" I blinked, surprised at being spoken to by the man who I had just dismissed. Tualga was grinning. I didn't understand. "My dear lady, have you not yet noticed?" I was getting very irritated by the man. He was goading me into conversation that I did not want to have. I hear-d his boots hit the cobblestone as he walked toward us. I turned sharply…

He was holding my satchel.

"Wha-" I reached down to tap at the bag that was supposed to be resting upon my hip but it was not there.

His hand was outstretched to me, my satchel hanging delicately from his fingertips. "You seemed to have dropped this when in your fury. I meant to return it to you but you were far too reluctant to speak to me." His dark brows were quirked upward. "It was rather rude."

I swallowed hard and felt sheepish. In my anger towards the baker I must have dropped my bag somehow and this man had only meant to return it. I was rude and distrusting. I put myself through more trouble than I would have if I had just spoken to the man. But truthfully he made me feel uneasy. Like I said before I don't trust men. I hardly know how to behave around the Count, never mind complete strangers. I always fear they wanted something of me…but what could this man have ever hoped to achieve with a near seven foot Nord at my back?

I was just being foolish and indeed I felt ashamed. A good deed went punished and I meant to right my wrong. "I-I am so sorry." I stepped forward, shaking my head lightly. "I don't know what came over-"

The man again cut me off by slinging my bag over his shoulder. He smugly smirked down at me. It caught me off-guard. He folded his arms across his broad chest and narrowed his black eyes at me, but as ever he was smiling. "I'm afraid you aren't getting it back, my lady." He tilted his head to the side, "unless of course, you would show me a kindness now, as I had tried to do for you." He trailed off, leaving his demands in the air.

I stiffened but complied. After all, he was toying with the Count's property, not mine. "How so?" I pretended to be brave and willing; inside I fought off the urge to leave this man for Tualga to deal with.

He extended an empty hand to me. "I would settle for your name, my lady."

I hesitated. Despite me bring in the wrong I did not want to touch this man. Nor did I want to tell him my name. I couldn't put my finger on why but settled to boiling it down to my distrust.

I sighed from my nose and placed my hand in his own. "Abigale Lynn."

His skin was rough and lightly kissed from the day. He was an Imperial but did not have a dark enough complexion for farming. Nor was he pale enough or dressed well enough to be considered a nobleman. He was well-off, I could tell by his clothes, but I was curious what type of work he did that gave him rough hands but an alabaster complexion. Unsullied by dirt from a field, ink from paper, or soot from a forge – I wondered what he did for a living.

"Ah, there now - that wasn't so difficult. My name is Lucien Lachance and I am very pleased to make your acquaintance." He did not shake my hand, kiss it or even glance at it. His eyes never left mine and I again felt uneasy. "It is a terrible shame that it took us this long to exchange names, as I now have business to attend to. I presume you do as well."

I found myself suddenly entranced by his voice yet I feared it all the same. He spoke eloquently and his voice was low and deep, just like the Count's. But there was something laced within it that felt mysterious. I shoved the uncomfortable thoughts away and simply nodded.

He unslung my bag and handed it to me. Though empty, I made a great show of adjusting it so I no longer had to look at him.

"Do you frequent this place often?" His voice cut out again like a knife. "I would very much like to speak with you again. Perhaps when you're in a better humor?"

"I regret to inform you, Mister Lachance, but this is always my humor." I spoke calmly, finding more control now knowing that our conversation was coming to a close. "And I also dislike the baker very, very much."

He laughed, taking the rejection well, as if it never happened. "Indeed. You never did say how he wronged you but I'm sure he's well deserved your wrath, and whatever bloody death your mind conjured up for him." Again I surpressed a shudder. The way he spoke…

"Farewell then, ladies. I do so hope we see each other again." He smirked and turned to me. "Another time." It was not a question or an answer. I just nodded - anything to get on with our parting. I wanted desperately to go to the Temple.

Thankfully he turned and left then and I took a deep breath of midmorning air. Tualga, who had silently been watching for the last few awkward moments burst into laughter. "Oh Lynn, honey!" Her laughter continued and she threw an arm over my shoulder. "If I had that handsome Imperial comin' to me on my only day off, yer' damn right I'd take his sweet ponytailed ass to the Inn!" I flushed and shook my head as her chortling continued. "He wanted himself a piece of you girl! Go, go and get em'! Get some action while you can!"

"Let's go to Temple, Tualga." I said dismissively as I too left the bakery corner.

"He knew how to make any girl smile, I can tell you that much. Damn shame he isn't a Nord."

I half listened as she went on and on about the odd encounter. I desperately wanted to forget that it ever occurred. It only reminded me of my time on the streets. The uncomfortable and questionable meetings you have with people. People are strange and you never know what the other is thinking and it's probably better that way. If we could all read minds like books then the world would be insane.

XXXX

The terrible taste from the illusion potion he had drunk nearly an hour ago still lingered in his mouth. No amount of pursing his lips, sucking his teeth, or simply sipping what the Jeweler thought was tea seemed to alleviate it.

And said Jeweler was privately driving the Count insane. The man was ancient, probably as old as the Count himself, but mortal and grey. His hands were gnarled and trembled at his every move. His eyes were faded and glossy, his wrinkles set deeply into his sagging skin; marked with discolored blotches and bruises from age.

Janus at first looked kindly upon the man. He felt a twinge of empathy knowing full well that he would never have to undergo such a change, never be grey or tremble from weakness.

But again that was nearly an hour ago…

The Count had brewed several illusion potions recently. They took weeks to make and after being caught by Abigale Lynn when she first came to the Castle, he decided to have a few at the ready. Despite the potion being taxing to make it did hardly anything. All it did was revert his appearance to before his vampirism.

Again, hardly anything.

His eyes now shone their original color: a steely blue. And his fangs were hardly visible, appearing to be the average human canine. His skin, though pale, now had more color to it; a slight flush on his cheeks and nose. His stubble he made darker also. Vampires did not have to shave unless desired. They did not have to grow hair anywhere unless desired. It was something Janus had realized several years after his disease. But he thought it made him look more 'alive' so, he allowed more to come in.

Remembering to breathe was difficult so the potion remedied that as well. His chest looked as though it was rising and falling rhythmically. Of course, it did not need to and was only his special concoction's doing. Still, it made his time in others company easier.

None of this was permanent. It was only a horribly wonderful guise. Because in times like this he needed one.

"What about this, hmm?" The Jeweler questioned, pulling Janus from his thoughts. He held up a golden necklace with a large red gem surrounded by pearls in its center.

The Count winced and shook his head. "No, no that is not at all like her." He remembered doing this years ago but now it was different somehow. Before everything he saw was beautiful and just right for his Rona…The Count stopped and shook his head harder. "Something less gaudy."

It was the Jeweler's turn to shake his head. "Forgive me your Grace, but if perhaps I knew something about your mistress I could be more help—"

"Again, she is not my mistress." The Count said while pinching the bridge of his nose. "What could I tell you that would help speed up this process?"

The Jeweler smiled as he shakily put down the golden necklace. "Anything that makes her stand out to you, your Grace."

The Count leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He was getting annoyed with the old man and bored. Very bored. Still, he complied.

"Her hair." He sighed still sitting with his eyes closed. "Her long red hair. And her eyes too, but what man doesn't like big green eyes. But then again they sometimes seem bluer…" The image of her in his mind caused him to smile. "She's pale and delicate. She's always blushing—"

"What about her character? Her nature?" The old Jeweler inquired.

"Innocent and yet not. Curious but reluctant. Hesitant at best and unwillingly defiant at her worst. Reluctance has her bound and it shows within her and within everything she does." The Count opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling. As though Nirn had its way with her very soul, sewn it up crudely and cast what was left at my feet, and I find it lovely. This though he did not say, and it struck him as odd that the thought even occurred. It disturbed him, but when he thought of how Abigale Lynn looked and how she acted when she first began working for him it was unsettlingly accurate.

"An oxymoron?" The other probed with a hint of humor in his voice.

"An enigma." Janus corrected. His fingers began drumming lightly on the soft cushioning of his chair. His enigma was dearly missed, despite her not even being gone for more than a few hours.

"Are they not the same?"

Janus snapped himself upright again to stare at the old man. "No." He said sternly but not cruelly. "Not when it comes to her. Everything is different even if it is identical…" He blinked taken aback and mortified by his own openness. He shook his head, he was done with this game. "I don't even know what we're talking about anymore. This is nonsense." He huffed but again he stopped. There in the Jeweler's withered hands were six small diamonds. One was the size of a pin's head, the next slightly larger, and the last was the largest of them all yet still smaller than a pea.

It was a simple, elegant pair of earrings. No more than an inch long and each diamond was flawless.

"I wonder," The Jeweler began with a laugh, "Are her ears pierced?"

xxxx

Tualga and I sat in the quiet of the Temple's pews. I silently admired the stained glass windows and the depictions of the Gods upon them. It left me again questioning what little belief I had. When I was a girl I attended the Temple each morning with my mother. I was to sit and listen quietly as her and the other priestesses spoke of the Goddess Dibella. They told me of my beauty and how I was supposed to use it to my advantage. According to them, somehow I was supposed to make the world a better place by smiling and spreading my legs. Of course, they worded it better than I.

I sighed. I was born in that Chapel and raised around it. Apparently being born under the sign of the Lover was also something of importance to the priestesses. My mother loved me and tried her best to teach me to appreciate my apparent 'grace and beauty'. I found it of little consequence. I hid in my Anvil home, raising my younger family members. And despite my mother's best efforts, I was never able to master the magic she had shown me. I thought it was from my own reluctance. I did not like what my Goddess stood for, nor was I one for kissing strangers to practice my magic on.

But now, sitting in the peaceful, cool Temple I felt something akin to epiphany. Perhaps the Gods did exist…

I stared up to the high intricate ceiling, thinking of all my current blessings. Everything I had done in my life, every wrong decision I had made had led me here, to the city of Skingrad and thus to the Count himself. He alone was a very sign of the Gods. The most fearful creature in the world, the most influential Count in Tamrial, and the smartest man I had ever known –and he liked me. He was kind to me and me alone. Our meeting may very well be a sort of celestial joke to the Gods, but I rather liked the punchline.

"Do you think they exist?" I asked Tualga, who too was admiring the artwork.

"Aye. I don't think it, I know it, Miss Lynn." She sighed wistfully and turned to me. "I've seen many things in my life, and I've had a good and long one already. I have no complaints. But I have seen sadness too, Lynn; the kind that keeps you up at night just to wonder why." She placed her hand on mine and I was touched and slightly mystified by the sincerity in her voice. "They have a plan for us all. Even if we hate em', scorn em', praise em' or morn them. Be assured that they are watching you for your betterment." She laughed a little. "Though it may not seem like it at first!"

I swallowed and nodded. I suddenly didn't want to talk about the Gods anymore. It hurt to do so and it reminded me of a similar, yet short conversation I had with the Count.

"Tualga, would you mind if we made a short stop before the Alchemist? I promise it won't take long."

xxxx

We walked past the gardens outside the Chapel making our war towards the back. "Lynn, are we allowed to be back here?" Tualga questioned as she pushed back some petrified overgrowth.

"I don't honestly know." I answered, not bothering to look back. My feet were traveling a secret familiar path. We forged our way to the far back of the Church. There, under what once was a canopy of thick leafs in the summer, wedged between the Church corner and large city wall was my old home. The earth was damp here, it always was, and all was as I had left it.

I stared dumbstruck for a moment. This patch of earth where I slept and ate and hid away from the world was now very frightening. I thought of the fear I used to swallow down on a day to day basis. The restless nights where my body woke me with agonizing cramps from hunger. My shaking body as rain pelted my skin as I tried in vain to shield myself.

I walked forward a little more to a large stone and proceeded to push it aside.

"What is this place?" Tualga asked me softly. I had a feeling she already knew.

From underneath the rock I pulled out a small dirty bundle. I opened it revealing to her a small stack of worn books, a pewter spoon, and a dirty brass pendant. "My old home."

Then Tualga did something I didn't expect, nor had I ever seen her do before. She choked on a sob and put her hand over her mouth. "Oh, Abbey Lynn." She walked to me and embraced me. I was a little taken aback by her. "How did you—oh why weren't you in the Temple?"

"I-I was sometimes, but there were people more important than me. Babies, elderly, wounded guards…." I awkwardly tried to hold onto her as well, it was sad but I didn't know how to reciprocate her affections. My breath shook as I exhaled. It came as a shock to see how much she genuinely cared. I never would have dreamt this would make her so sad. But I know I am stunted when it comes to emotion. My heart sometimes feels as if it were put together wrong. Like something's not quite right. But I knew that my upbringing and time on the streets was its doing. Maybe one day I would cry for someone like Tualga was. I would cry for a friend who I loved. Maybe someday. "I made it, right?" I asked halfheartedly

"Aye, you did Abby Lynn, you did."

After a moment we parted and I placed my old belongings back in the hole but did not cover them up. Perhaps someone would one day stumble upon this place and need it as I did. I hoped desperately that they were as lucky as I was.

xxxx

Our trip was coming to an end and we were off to the Inn. Tualga had purchased me new shoes, several tops, skirts and undergarments. I was awed by her generosity and she near insisted spending every gold piece in her purse on me. She also wouldn't allow me to carry anything. She made some offhanded comment about me being a 'milk drinker' so I stopped offering. I felt it had something to do with me making off with the Castle goods and running. Of course I would never, and Tualga knew that, but it was always better to be safe than sorry, in any case.

I was very tired as we entered the Inn and pictured several equally tired Castle hands being there as well. I had imagined servants eating quietly around a hearth, some drinking, maybe a few games…It was not the case.

The Inn was packed and loud. There was singing and spilt drink everywhere. Food that at some point in time had been on the tables had found its way everywhere it was not to be. I easily recognized a few maids and other servants but was appalled by their behavior. I had not been into a tavern in quite some time and I must have forgotten the goings-on inside. Their version of dancing was to cling to each other while showing as much skin as humanly possible. It was obscene. The smell of stale beer was foul; I realized the Count had spoiled me with the smell of sweet wine. No sooner had we passed the threshold was I ready to leave. Of course Tualga loved every moment.

"Finally!" She exclaimed as we sat at the bar. "I've been waiting a whole damn month for this –" she widely gestured to the room. "Our private little party! Gotta' loosen up after being cooped up, eh?" She shrugged off her shawl and I gaped at her. Could she really enjoy this? Really? I now saw why Rheena always declined the shopping trip. "Ready for some drinkin'?" She asked me as the bartender: a tall orcish woman, approached.

I shook my head wide-eyed at her.

"Such a lightweight! But with hangovers like yours, I can't say I blame you." She ordered mead, ale, beer, brandy and several other things I could not pronounce. She said they were Dunmer drinks and they smelt horrifyingly familiar. Within the hour she was overly drunk and I had my fill of the place. Despite keeping my head down I had been asked to 'dance' several times by servants and stable hands. They were rather persistent and partial to begging. I had enough. I wanted to go home.

"Can we please leave now, Tualga?" I asked as quietly as possible while still being heard. The entire day had exhausted me and this rather soppy display of merriment was making my stomach sour. Especially once a woman slipped under a nearby table, making the man sitting at it very happy. "I'm very ready to leave."

"Abby Lynn," She groaned. She was deep in her cups and had some Breton boy on her arm, mumbling praises about her 'antique beauty'. I felt selfish for wanting to pry her away. But what was I to do if she went and bought a room with the boy? Sit at the bar until they had their fill of one another? "I just can't leave yet Lynn. Look at his face! Like a lil' doll he is." She slurred and they leaned into each another. The Breton boy was indeed a boy, sixteen at most. That didn't seem to matter to him or Tualga at the moment.

"Then," I thought aloud, searching desperately for a way out of this situation. "Then maybe I could leave? I could go on my own…can't I?"

At this Tualga sobered a bit. She looked at me for a long, long moment. "You'll be goin' right back ta' Castle now, eh?" Even in her stupor she was efficient in her job. She was reluctant to let me go alone, though deep down she knew that I was going home. Castle Skingrad.

"There is nowhere else I would rather be." I said honestly, with a small laugh as I looked around again.

She sighed reluctantly. "Aye, aye alright then." She took my hand and gave it a squeeze. "I'll see you in a bit?"

I nodded eagerly and she let me go, albeit reluctantly.

Xxxx

I closed the door to the noisy Inn and made my way down the stone steps and onto the streets. The night had gotten cooler and I hugged myself tightly. I smiled up at the stars and watched as my breath floated upward and vanished. The sky was clear and lovely. Spring was fighting hard to make itself present and was succeeding beautifully.

The hour was late as I padded along the cobblestone. I thought of the Count and how he would react to seeing me. I did not think he truly wanted me to go out of fear that I would never return, so I was eager to make myself known to him. Perhaps I would use his library as he so generously offered and be a tad bit noisier than usual, just to get his attention.

I hummed lightly to myself as I walked under the light of the streetlamp. Despite being around places I so desperately feared: alleyways, corners, and such, I felt protected. I felt nearly untouchable as the Count entered my mind again. The thought of him quelled my fears and made it easy for me to block out all bad memories.

Then the light in the streetlamp I was approaching went out.

It caught me off-guard but I kept walking, disregarding it as a strong wind. But then as I continued to walk the next in line blew out as well. My skin prickled and I felt a tingle run up my spine but my feet kept moving. Then another, and another and another all went out. My feet stopped moving and I froze entirely. I was in the blackness of night on a deserted street I was unfamiliar with. And I was afraid to move now. I knew someone was watching me.

My ears were perked for any sound as I stood stiller than a statue but there was none. After a moment I gained up enough courage to turn around. So I did, and fast, but there was not a soul in sight. However, to my dismay and shock each and every lamp behind me was out.

I gulped and turned around again. I only had so many options to choose from. I could run back to the Inn, but it was rather far and I had a feeling that whoever was watching me was lingering somewhere back there. I could also make a beeline for the Castle, again which was equally far. I was rusty in my decision making despite having been stalked before. All in all I knew running was a bad idea. It usually made whoever was following me run as well, and they were always bigger and faster than I.

The sheer weight of my situation fell on me then. I no longer knew what to do but fear was gathering in my every fiber so I again began walking, though shakily this time.

Then out of the darkness behind me I heard it, a soft but sinister chuckle. I whipped around half expecting to see nothing but was horrified at what I beheld. One of the streetlamps was lit again but instead of its normal orange radiance, it was glowing a blood red.

But beneath the hellish red-light; the cause of my blood to go cold in my veins, was the man who stood beneath it. A tall, broad-shouldered man, shrouded in a cloak as black as death, was standing there inhumanly still as he held a blade in his hands.

All thoughts failed me. I could not scream. I turned and ran into the darkness.