Author's Notes: Wow, your positive reviews really encouraged me to update! Thank you to all who gave feedback for the last chapter! It really was hard to write, as it took me out of my comfort zone. Way back when I started this fic, I planned on it having darker 'elements'. It took 45 chapters for me to get the gonads to write that scene XD. It's difficult but that part -and more - have been a long time coming. This story was a giant exercise that I got attached to. I wanted character development and moral deterioration. I wanted to write my take on the inner mental workings of the abused and abusers. As I've grown, had my own experiences and struggles, I found myself more uncomfortable when writing. Oddly enough, I still enjoy it immensely and hearing your feedback makes it all the more worth it! I am still going to follow my original plot, horrible experiences, awful actions, and mental manipulations! Yay! I will always put up warnings for anything warranting them. Intimacy and violence are keys in this story but even I have my limits...that being said, we are dealing with broken characters, (as many of you already know 8D!) and as such, they will not often act or react as a 'normal' person would. Every character in this story has a backstory and I try my best to portray their true selves in writing. This fanfic takes a lot of soul searching...it's ridiculous! XDXD I get legitimately tired but I love every moment! Another thing (go away, Rose, I know) is that this story will BORE the life out of some readers. Lots of inner monologue, lots of perviness, some substance abuse, lots of sexual tension and awkward reactions...yeah. You wanna go chase a dragon? Close a gate? Hunt for treasure? Make love to Martin Septim under a sea of stars in time to a choir of angels?! Wrong place XD. There is some adventure here but we mainly go on sad, weird mental adventures XD

Love or Blood

Chapter Forty-six: Glimpse

XXXX

The Count shot Vicente a dark look. "Sometimes I think you seek out my misfortunes only to entertain yourself. If so, alleviate your boredom elsewhere. I've no need for such nonsense, I have enough already." Janus went to drink more of his Blood Wine only to frown when nothing poured from the bottle. He swore and tossed it aside, ignoring the sound of breaking glass, and settled further back on his throne. "Specter, leave me be."

Vicente quirked his brow while eyeing the shattered bottle. "I take it your apologies have fallen short?"

The Count's face twitched. He loudly drummed his fingers on the armrest of his throne. "Obviously." So much disdain dripped from one little word. It made Vicente grimace, though a part of him was mildly amused as well. "You think if she loved me I would be sitting here trying to drown myself?"

The elder vampire sighed and placed his chin in his hand. "Truly a meaningless effort, my friend. We cannot drown."

"Pity." Janus lamented, but then he went quiet for a moment. He thought of his actions beforehand. The fear in her eyes...she knew he liked it and that repulsed her. He would never hurt her...again. He so wished to ease these confliction thoughts. But as his mind sought comforts, he realized that he had singlehandedly destroyed them all. His thoughts became contradictions due to his actions. Pretty words would not work. He doubted his ability to fix what was broken. He stared ahead blankly, his eyes glazed with drunkenness and contempt. "She hates me."

Vicente scoffed, trying not to be so troubled by the very dour Janus. "I doubt it. She is just hurt. You must know that it is hard for mortals to understand the way we cling to our comforts. I'm sure more time is just needed."

The Count growled and waved away Vicente's words. "I am tired of waiting. It is all I seem to do. I've spent the better half of a century waiting on women to come to their senses." He groused. Vicente could not help but snicker.

"You'll surely turn to dust waiting for that! They think with emotion-"

"What on Nirn does she want from me?! By the Nine, anything but more waiting! Vindictive little...little...girl!" He spat, rising to his feet. "I have a mind to go back there. Make me out to be a fool? Me! Can you believe it?"

"Now, let's not do anything rash." Vicente quickly interjected. "She is a little girl, just as you said. As such, she is most likely to be terrified. The poor thing has been through much in the last few weeks alone." He looked pointedly at the Count. Janus was his own greatest enemy. His temper was volatile at best and downright brutally destructive at its worst. Vicente could easily understand Abigale Lynn's trepidation and fear. The Count was intimidating as a man, and as a vampire, he had the makings of a monster. This young woman was to receive the brunt of it all. She could only rely on Janus' self-control. Unfortunately, whilst she was the object of his frustrations, his handling was rather loose.

"Yes, yes poor Abigale Lynn. She has it so very hard here...I give that girl everything! Everything she will 'allow' me." The Count rambled, beginning to pace the floor. "All is taken for granted. She won't even as so much condescend to hear me! She disregards my feelings in all of this. This hurts me too. It is my wife that is being put to death. She thinks I am using her as a means to authenticate it. It is untrue! How can she not wrap her damn mind around it?! You yourself know! You've been helping me for over forty years in this! Why won't she believe me? I swear I will make her believe. I do not care what it takes...She is beyond stubborn. Woman-child."

The elder vampire only watched with interest, his head moving back and forth with the Count's relentless pacing. "You sound hurt and perhaps a little drunk." He kept the smirk that was threatening to break through at bay. Yes, he did feel for Janus, but seeing the Count of Skingrad rave drunkenly about a woman was quite amusing. Truth be told, Vicente had no love for Countess Rona. Her presence only tortured his friend and her repulsion to the Dark Gift left much to be desired. He did not personally know this woman, of course, but he wasn't very impressed by what he heard of her either. He knew Janus would be better off with her at rest, though he never pushed this opinion, it was not his place to do so. "And it looks as though your ears are again getting those pesky, little, points. When is the last time you've fed?"

Janus' pacing stopped. Vicente watched the Count's back as he chuckled humorlessly, "Not too long ago now. An hour or two at most, though I did not really partake."

"Ah, playing with your food?" Vicente tapped his chin, "Now I may be wrong but that may not be the best way to show the lady your loving intent."

"She does not want my loving intent. Nor does she want my 'tenderness' either. I'll give her what's left." The Count more growled than said. "She does not like it, I highly doubt she ever will. But she shall receive it. Her choice. I will not reward her obstinance. She forgets herself. She is lucky to be so unpunished."

Vicente clucked his tongue. "Lashing out from spite will only further damage her image of you. I don't think her refusal is unreasonable. You did sleep with her under false pretenses. Perhaps a small break from your companionship is needed." He shot the Count another knowing look, Janus only glared back in response. "You should go out and feed. Spare the girl from your hunger tonight. Let yourself be wild elsewhere. And should you permit me... I would like to borrow the company of Abigale Lynn."

The Count's change in posture was immediate. The elder vampire thought he looked much like a snake readying itself to strike. All was suddenly dangerous and had to be handled with the best of care. Janus' eyes bore into Vicente's, the stare so intense one could almost call it insane. His unhealthy infatuation was truly fascinating, if not so unsettling.

"Why?" The Count eventually ground out. His voice was low, eyes narrowed, body unnaturally still and composed. Had their age difference not given Vicente a significant advantage, he would have been intimidated.

Vicente stood slowly while casually adjusted his traveling cloak. He kept his tone relaxed and clear, "Because I would very much like to have a word with her. I think having another to talk to may help defuse this situation. I may also be able to further insist on your honest motives. I can validate your story." Again, the elder vampire made an attempt at a lighthearted suggestion. Presently, it was tedious but his and the Count's friendship was vital. He was not physically afraid of Janus, but he was aware of what the Count could do. With hardly any effort on his part, Janus could become a terrible thorn in the Brotherhood's side. He had the gold, the knowledge, and the manpower to uproot all safe havens in the West Weald. He felt it best to tread with caution.

"It's not a story." The Count snapped, but he thankfully seemed to loosen at Vicente's suggestion. "What reason do I have to lie? If I wished to be untruthful I would not have brought her to Rona in the first place."

"I know that but Abigale Lynn does not. Truly, what more harm can come from us talking? I think it worth a try, Janus. I only wish to help you." The Count went quiet as he considered the vampire before him. He trusted Vicente, they had a bond built upon mutual understanding and likeness. Both were vampires in positions of power and although they had met under very unusual circumstances, both had quickly found the other interesting. It made for a rather curious and at times ambiguous kinship. Vicente trusted Janus with information regarding the Dark Brotherhood as a penance for knowing of the Count's vampirism.

They held equally damning knowledge over one another and this made their friendship all the more comfortable. They would not dare cross each other but oddly enough, the Count found himself very hesitant. Remarkably so. All the things Vicente knew, known, could do or had done paled in comparison to leaving him alone with Abigale Lynn. It made him feel genuinely uneasy and he was not too sure why. Abigale Lynn belonged to Janus by the ways of vampires and by the written word of the Imperial Empire. Vicente would never try to encroach on his territory, but all the same..."It will be a brief discourse."

Vicente blinked, having half expected an outright refusal from the Count, he was pleasantly surprised. "Thank you. I know how much she means to you and I understand the reluctance you must feel. Rest assured, I derive no pleasure from making you uncomfortable. I do believe this will help."

"I know you," The Count said darkly, again surprising the other vampire. "You like to provoke. You enjoy the curiosities of non-deadly quarrels. You think it wise to speak with her? I do not doubt you and grant you permission to do so. However, if you step too far, reach too high or otherwise taint my already precarious relations with Abigale Lynn...you will find yourself in more trouble than you could have ever dreamt. I will make you miss the tedium of death."

xxxx

The water in the basin sloshed gently. The Stewardess' hands occasionally trembled as she brought the damp cloth to my skin. I did not want to be touched but refrained from saying so. She wished to comfort me in any way that she could, I felt it wrong to refuse her. Although the pressure she applied was gentle each press from the fabric stung. The two little holes in my breast burned, the skin surrounding them felt bruised. The mark itself began to turn a funny shade. It was blue and purpled and welted red. Blood still ran freely from it, dying the water in the basin pink. I had seen this before when the Count first fed on me, Tualga had been washing my skin...

I closed my eyes, feeling very drained and still so frightened. I wanted to banish all bad thoughts but could not. As if my mind hated me, it continuously brought back not so distant memories of betrayal. And I was again betrayed and it had not yet fully registered. It was all so dark and I felt confined within myself. I was left with nothing but agonizing failures to reflect upon. I had done everything wrong. Everything in my life, I had done it wrong. I truly questioned if I had it within me to do right.

I had thought the Count was my beacon of hope. He was my happiness in my small and confused world. Everything he did was amazing. He was the embodiment of power, refined and yet raw. I saw him as a cultured ruler and indifferent Master. I had seen him as a friend and as an enemy. He had entered my dreams and toyed with my spirit. For what felt like a moment he had been my lover. It was so fleeting. Now he was again my enemy and my tormentor. Still, I cared for him in spite of it all, as foolish as it was to do so.

His words echoed in my mind, taunting me cruelly. Eventually, the Count would return and I had the dreadful feeling that he would be bringing hellfire along with him. I sucked in my bottom lip and glanced toward the door. I had only ever seen him so hateful once before and he was not opposed to laying his hands on me then. He had grabbed me, pulled me, pinned me and fed on me. I could not help but to wonder what he would do this time. This anger was different. I had denied him my body and he left me with a threat of continuation. It left me morbidly curious as to what he would do. Some of me did not want to know, the other part felt I needed to mentally prepare.

My eyes drifted over the Stewardess' form. She had known the Count her entire life and yet his behavior had stunned her. I wondered what she had seen over the years when it came to the Count's anger. Long ago she had warned me about his temper. As a result, I had aimed to mind myself around him. He was prone to sudden mood changes and it left me questioning his personality. Was this natural? Was he always so easily frustrated or was it due to vampirism?

I took a deep breath and stared again at the wall. "How was the Count in life?" I asked, finding the question itself difficult to word.

"In life?" The Stewardess repeated. She tried to catch my gaze but I still could not bring myself to look her in the eyes. I shifted further away from her, feeling awkward for asking. "He is very much the same, I suppose. Although recent events have left me questioning this...why do you ask?"

I gave a little shrug, still feeling very unsure myself. I had so many questions. There was so much I wanted to know but was afraid of being so personal with the Stewardess. I often thought she hated me, as she had once seemed reluctant to show me any kindness. I saw now why she treated me the way she did and I appreciated her effort. She wanted me on alert, to be distant and skittish. She hoped to create a barrier between the Count and myself. It did not work, despite her attempt, but she did try. She had also been there for me and the Count when things had darkened. And here she was again...I did not understand why she cared so. Still, her compassion helped aid me to dare another more intimate question. "H-how was he as a husband?"

The cloth in her hand stilled for a moment as I made my curiosity plainer. "You want to know if he was forceful with the Countess?" She murmured. I said nothing, letting her draw her own reasoning for my questions. "The answer to that is no. He never put his hands on her in anger, though there were times when I thought she was trying her damnedest to make him do so. They fought violently and often but loved one another just as fiercely. At the time I found it tiresome and unhealthy. They agreed on nothing and neither would bend even a little." She sighed then, long and weary. "I cannot picture it...his treatment of you, I mean. It is unlike him and yet not. He used to find ways to cope with his anger. He would never act on it in such a way."

I rubbed my neck, one of the Count's many suckling marks had begun to ache. "How did he cope?"

"Sport." She snorted. "You could tell when they fought even if you did not work in the Castle. The man was outside constantly. He would busy himself to the point of exhaustion. When they argued he played aggressively. You name it, he did it. It did wonders for the man's health and physique, but it only made the Countess madder. She found his games too barbaric and bloody. But that's men for you."

A guilty blush formed on my face as a memory of the Count's naked body came to me. I had long found his muscles curious and interesting. Well before we had been intimate, I had quietly admired them. My fingers had glided over him and the feeling of his strength had excited me to no end. Now I knew their origin: an output of marital frustration. It made me uncomfortable that I enjoyed his body so. "He's a mage," I heard myself sputter as I did my best to shake our licentious acts from my mind. "W-what sport does a mage play?"

"Any and all. He was fond of anything that required physical strain. He was partial to dueling and became very proficient with a longsword. Wrestling too but the Countess quickly forbade that after he had beaten one of his friends nearly beyond recognition. Nobles are far too prideful, I swear they did not stop hitting each other until one fell unconscious." I hunched further in my seat. I did not like the image, game or no. "Hunting became a personal favorite too as it took him away from the Castle for a time. He did find it a bit conventional though and often changed the rules. Going after magical beasts proved more interesting. Ruins and caves were fair and teaming with the game he sought."

I hung on to every word as the Stewardess spoke. I listened mutely as I sadly learned that I knew nothing of the Count. Never would I have guessed that he was so active and daring, or that he looked for danger as a pastime. "But he's a mage..." I said again, sounding confused and embarrassed by my own mental epiphany.

"Yes, and a powerful one. When he and the Countess were on good terms he stayed inside and practiced his magic. Mysticism and Destruction are still his personal favorites. He does dabble in the other schools. Illusion magic became very useful once the change took him. He also gained a greater respect for Alchemy then. Certain Restoration spells don't work on vampires. He had to concoct his own potions and refine old recipes." The information astounded me. I felt so very small and foolish.

"He is...accomplished." I swallowed hard. Hearing of the Count and all he did had shown him in a new light. I felt more awkward and intimidated by his desires now. Why was I wanted? I could not compare. I did not understand. "H-how did he do so much? Where did he find the time? County work -"

"County work was always prioritized accordingly. It came above all else. He had a tendency to skip his Chapel duties too, which in turn granted him an entire day without interruption. The peace aided him greatly. You would be surprised how much the man could get done when left alone." She laughed dryly. "It was just another thing they fought about. The Count's absence of faith caused many an argument. The Countess could not stand his blaspheming."

I then remembered a conversation I had with the Count about the Divine. He seemed genuinely pleased when I expressed my lack of faith. I was so scorned and doubted their influence. Months later I was to find that I was blessed and cursed by one. It was unfair but I tried my best to keep from thinking of it.

A small bout of silence ensued as I considered all that was said. I had learned much in such a short period of time, or at least it felt like much to me. I did not think I should know of these things, however. I had invaded another woman's marriage and had done significant damage to it. I believed my curiosities to be sick. I was making her husband my business even though he was clearly not supposed to be. Perhaps it was just as it made me realize how very little and out of place I was. I knew now more than ever that if there was a way, regardless of my feelings for the Count, I would leave and not come back. "Do you think what he is doing is cruel?"

"Of course! He should be ashamed! I don't care what either of you thinks. Ownership or not, he should not be touching you, Abigale Lynn."

"N-no," I stammered, wringing my hands nervously. "The Countess. Do you...d-do you think she's in pain?" Immediately the Stewardess froze. The washcloth slipped from her grasp and landed on the stone floor with a little 'plop'. My hands found their way to a torn bit of fabric from my gown. I twisted it as I again held back tears. "He brought me there t-to that chamber. I saw the Countess. I don't...They have t-terrible nightmares...I am scared for her."

The Stewardess only looked at me in disbelief. When she finally spoke it was slow and muffled, as if she was unsure of her own words. "He brought you to the Countess?"

I nodded and turned further away from her. I could not handle her stare. "Yes...I know you knew of her. You know everything. But I did not know, Stewardess. I swear I did not." I tried to discreetly wipe the few stray tears from my eyes. "I-I am weak for him but I would never have gone to him had I known. I would not."

She nodded tightly and picked the cloth up from the floor. She toyed with it for a moment. I supposed her shock was reasonable. I doubted many knew of the Countess' presence. Me being told was odd, I had no place to know. "When did he do this?"

"A few days ago now," I answered, my attention set solely on my hands again.

She made a small contemplative sound. "Then I'm afraid this is my doing." Her words puzzled me. I chanced a look at the Stewardess from the corner of my vision. "Tualga had seen you in the Count's bed and told me of it. Naturally, I was...well, I was very displeased. Given the circumstance, I found it rather disturbing too. I told the Count this. I also told him what you yourself just said to me a moment ago - had you known of the Countess, you would not have gone near him." She pinched the bridge of her snout and sighed. "I was greatly afraid for your well-being. I still am. I had hoped that hearing of the Countess would have dissuaded him from continuing. How wrong I was...what in Gods name is the man doing? Why did he bring you to her?"

'I love you. That is my obligation. I want you to love me and I cannot build our love on lies.'

I stayed quiet. The Count's intentions were his own. Regardless of the pain, I would not tell his confession. Truth or not, I felt it wasn't my place to speak of.

I continued to watch the Stewardess as she shook her head, looking positively bewildered and weary. I felt so very guilty. Hal-Liurz had dedicated her life to Castle Skingrad and its Count and Countess. I knew that I had uprooted all and put an incredible burden on her as soon as I set foot in the Castle. The stress was continuing and she must have felt as helpless as I. The feeling of being so useless was horrible. It made me ashamed knowing that I was causing this in her. The Count, in particular, had been needlessly cruel to the Stewardess once I had voiced my displeasure at one of her commands. He had me sign a paper putting my place above her own out of spite. It made me feel wretched but I carelessly obeyed. Of course, I did not know what I was signing and that made it all the worse.

It was a terrible insult. Her seeing my signature in black ink beneath the Count's on a document that I so carelessly signed must have been awful. Decades of service and loyalty were taken for granted and casually brushed aside with the stroke of a quill... "Stewardess, I am so sorry." She looked a little more confused and opened her mouth to speak but I continued before she interrupted, I did not want to lose my nerve. "I-I know I am putting you in an impossible situation. I have from the very start. I should have never signed that paper. I should have read it l-like you said to. I'm sorry."

She eyed me strangely for a minute, looking more troubled and tired. "Don't apologize for that, Abigale. I'm quite certain that the Count would have made you sign it, regardless of you wanting to. That is the way of him, especially when it comes to me." She sighed loudly, now appearing more irritated than sad. "It is the unfortunate truth. His treatment of me has never been very sympathetic. The Count has always been at odds with having an Argonian as a chamberlain. I've accepted it. It's just how things are."

I thought that to be unfair and severe but my opinion on the subject did not matter. I wanted to somehow comfort the Stewardess as she was trying to do for me but was unsure how. I was also the lowliest person in Castle Skingrad, quite literally a whore, as all had once assumed. I was afraid she would be insulted if I tried too hard to console her. Words from me were meaningless and held no merit. I did not want her to take offense to me trying to elevate her placement. She was a very proud woman, I did not want to throw salt on the wound.

I fidgeted, feeling compelled to say something, but effectively stifled the notion. Then, before the silence became uncomfortable, there was a knock at the door.

Suddenly, the world seemed to go cold. Reality came crashing back down upon me. My body stiffened, locked so tight it hurt, but I could not loosen. I was startled by the Stewardess placing a hand on my shoulder. Impulsively, I grabbed her and was unable to peel my eyes from the now very ominous door. She tried to soothe me, I heard her words but could not understand them. My heart was trying to escape my chest. The air in the room had again thinned and I could not breathe. The Stewardess had finally pried herself from my grasp. I bit back a whimper and stood, moving away from the door. I wanted to put as much distance between the room's entrance and myself as possible, without rousing anger or suspicion from the Count.

The Stewardess went to the door and I truly felt faint. It was terrible. I mindlessly groped around and clung to the nearest piece of furniture for support. It happened to be the wardrobe I was beginning to despise. "Don't make him mad," I whispered harshly, more to myself than the Stewardess. "Please don't make him mad."

"It will be alright," She tried to reassure. I had the feeling she too was speaking more to herself than me. Her body was as straight as an arrow as she tugged on the latch, allowing him entry. My mind was reciting apologies as if the Count could already hear them. Surprisingly, it was not him at the room's entrance, but I did not yet know this. "You?" The Stewardess said in sheer disgust and surprise. I was at first mortified by her tone, thinking her to be rude to the Count. "What on Nirn are you doing here?"

The voice that responded was smooth and light. The familiarity of it caused me to be curious and a little less afraid. "Oh, the delightful Hal-Liurz! So good to see you. It seems time has yet touched you still. Perhaps you are unaging, much like the Count and myself?"

The Stewardess' tail flicked angrily in response. She was unamused and bristled at the comment. "You need to leave. Don't you people know when you are unwanted? Stay away. Go speak to the Count, if that is what you wish, but leave us be." My interest granted me the courage to inch closer.

She went to slam the door but a pale slender hand kept it from fully closing as if the heavy wood weighed nothing. "I have already spoken to the Count. With his generous blessing, I am here. Now I would very much like to speak with Miss Abigale Lynn." I could see him now through the doorway. He wore a dark traveling cloak and his usual charming smile. His eyes caught mine and his pleasant grin broadened. "Ah, there you are. How are you, my dear?"

I felt very unsure and self-conscious at his cheerful inquiry. He spoke as though nothing was wrong or horrible. The lightness of his mood made me almost believe him. I held my robe together tightly with one hand and fussed with my hair with the other, trying to make myself look less of a mess. "Master Vicente," I greeted him shakily, "I-it is nice to...this is unexpected." In an instant, memories of me running into Vicente on the veranda came forth. He had looked genuinely concerned for my wellbeing then. He seemed to understand my fear and was quick to pull me to him. He also put himself between the Count and me when he came outside. Vicente Valtieri did not know me well, nor were we close friends, yet he was willing to be a conduit for the Count's anger. I was embarrassed but thankful.

"I realize that my visit is a tad unprompted and I do apologize for that. I hope I am not intruding. The Count gave me his permission." The news surprised me. I would not have imagined that the Count would grant me any visitors. I believed there had to be a reason for him to allow this. Hesitant or not, I would receive Master Vicente. It would be rude not to.

"O-of course. Come in, please." The state of the room was suddenly uncomfortable to me. If one as perceptive as Vicente looked hard enough, they could easily see the assault that took place. I discreetly kicked some broken glass out of sight. "Did the Count-"

"The Count should not have given you permission to be here." The Stewardess snapped, glaring daggers at Vicente. "Who are you to insert yourself? You have no place and so should leave."

I was surprised then to see Vicente remove his hand from the door. The action of submission amazed me but I was unsure as to why. He gave a small bow of his head and placed his hands behind his back. In a way, I was moved. I was not used to seeing such mannerisms any longer. If one wanted to impose upon my privacy, they did it. "If I am unwanted I shall go. I do not want to force company." His gaze then shifted to me. "I only wish to offer any assistance to the lovely Miss Abigale Lynn, should she accept me."

XXXX

Vicente Valtieri watched Abigale Lynn as she carefully made her way forward. "H-he can come in, Stewardess. Master Vicente has only ever shown me kindness."

The Argonian did not waver and continued to glare at the vampire in the doorway. "As did the Count, Abigale." Vicente watched with a grim fascination and strong irritancy as the girl seemed to wither at the Stewardess' words. She rubbed her shoulder nervously and took a timid step back. He was saddened by this but more so at the look of defeat reflecting back at him from Abigale's eyes.

"The Count's actions are his own, as are mine." Vicente gently clarified. He kept his nature light and engaging, hoping to ease the mind of the justly skeptical Stewardess. "I will not speak ill of him and I will ask you not to either. However, please take note of our great age difference. Self-control develops over time and I am over two hundred years his senior."

Abigale Lynn looked curiously at Vicente. He had no doubts that the Count kept the young woman mainly in the dark when concerning vampirism. Janus had even written something in regards to that, stating that he strove to keep her in a constant state of confusion. Of course, that was months ago when Abigale had first begun working by him. She was rightfully interested. It was also plausible that her curiosity helped mask her current troubles. Distraction could prove to be a wonderful medicine.

"Abigale, this is your chamber. If you would like to be alone with this...with him then you may. But understand that you will be alone. I won't stick around when one of them is near." Again, Vicente could only smile kindly at Hal-Liurz. Her distrust was justified. Although he meant no harm, he was not above it by any means.

"I would like to be," Both Vicente and the Stewardess turned to the girl and both were equally surprised. Vicente's grin broadened while Hal-Liurz only gave a curt nod and left with the promise of return. The Stewardess was gone so quickly that Vicente barely had the time to bid her farewell. When the door closed behind them the girl's fidgeting worsened. "Would you l-like to sit?" She asked while sweetly offering him a chair.

Vicente smiled politely at her. "If you do as well, then yes, please." He was absurdly interested in how their little talk would go. He had yet to be alone with Abigale Lynn. He felt almost giddy as she carefully took the seat next to the one she had offered him. He settled himself onto the expertly upholstered chair while taking note of the loveliness of the chamber. The color palette of the room's furnishings primarily consisted of golds and greens. Some delicate cream linens here and there. A small bouquet of fresh peony flowers sat upon the quaint fireplace mantle. He thought it a charming selection. Not only were the flowers native to the West Weald but the pale pink hue seemed to match the blush of Abigale's cheek perfectly.

"You...you spoke with the Count?" She asked, quickly capturing his attention. "H-how was he?"

Her pulse quickened at her own inquiry. He pitied her. Vicente thought fear to be a terrible inconvenience. He regarded her with a slight frown and tried to word his answer gently. "Janus is agitated, as I am sure you knew he would be. A little on the drunk side too. I was able to convince him to go out and feed. I hope it will calm him. It usually does for me." He gave a slight sigh, simultaneously eyeing the very alluring water basin on the floor. "The Count is a proud man. He is insulted, I gathered that much from his ranting. Although I do not know the context, I can give an educated guess as to what occurred."

Abigale Lynn turned her head away slightly and bit her bottom lip. Vicente eyed the bleeding holes in her neck as she did this. They gleamed brightly, like two little rubies against the paleness of her skin. The scent of her blood was thick in the room, mostly due to the steamy bowl by their feet. Vicente hummed in thought and studied Abigale. Indeed, she was beautiful, strikingly so. He felt himself leaning in closer, half realizing it, half not caring. "I would like to speak to you further, but I also know how you are with talking." He smiled again as she peeked at him through long, dark lashes. "I understand it is not easy for you. I can make it easy, however. It won't be permanent, of course, but it will help. It may also calm you...you are so very riled. Perhaps you have need of it?"

She wrung her hands nervously, showing obvious interest and equal hesitance. "How do you intend to...h-how?"

"With extreme ease." Vicente's smile turned impish as he inched even nearer. "I'll be entirely honest with you, Miss Abigale Lynn, I have done this to you before. Do you remember the night we met? We warmed up to one another quickly, wouldn't you say?" She gave a slow nod, her gaze hardening slightly. He chuckled softly at her very confused expression. "We vampires are granted many gifts. One of these gifts I implemented that very same evening. It is known among us as the Vampire's Seduction. It is a spell of sorts. It relaxes the marked. The Count had mentioned your troubles with speech multiple times to me. I so wanted to meet you and I wanted you to be unafraid. I used this charm to quell your fears. I can use it again...with your permission this time."

Abigale Lynn blinked, looking mildly insulted by the information but no less curious. He watched her as she thought, finding her expressions rather addictive to observe. "I felt there was something off that night. My comfort did not make sense to me." Her demeanor lightened slightly and she pursed her lips. "I was in the Count's chair..."

"Ah, yes that too was my doing. You see, when the spell first takes effect it is rather powerful. The Count was very displeased with your sudden likeness to me so I dispelled the charm. You were hit with one too many things at once. Caused a bit of a daze, I'm afraid. That is not a common occurrence and would not happen again." Vicente was surprised by her lack of anger. Most who found that they had been enthralled by a vampire usually threw a fit, and fairly so. Vicente then truly question the Count's treatment of her. If she could simply disregard something of that magnitude who knows what else a man could get away with...

"Will it only calm me?" She asked nervously while fiddling with the robe she wore, again surprising Vicente with her eagerness at his suggestion. "I-I would like to be calm."

He nodded, his features pulling back to pity. "Understandable. And yes it will only calm you. Your secrets will remain your own, your actions also. I will harbor no control over your person, you will simply be at ease with me. Much like a close relative, so to speak."

There was a pause. Abigale Lynn looked eager yet apprehensive. She began to toy with the sash of her robe. "There is something I wish to ask you b-but I lack the courage to do so. Could this help?" Again he nodded and more fidgeting followed as she glanced around the room. When her eyes finally met Vicente's her unease was nearly tangible. "How is it done?"

Vicente outstretched his hand to her, palm up and open. "I need only touch you." She stared hard at him for a moment, as if he was asking her to do a tremendous task. Her lip was freshly pulled in by her teeth as she shifted her gaze about the room again. Without looking at him, Abigale Lynn placed her hand in his. "Please, do not let this unnerve you. Try and relax yourself. My influence is strong but the intensity will fade." She gave a tight nod and closed her eyes, exhaling shakily.

Curiosity got the better of him and he carefully examined her hand. It was oddly pretty, dainty and well-manicured, almost as though she had never seen a day of work. Her skin was remarkably soft and smooth. Now was not the first time he had noticed this. However, it was the first time he was able to savor the feeling.

Her eyes were still closed as he studied her. Her obedience was charming, her looks more so. Abigale Lynn had the most beautiful face Vicente had ever seen. He couldn't recall another that even came close to comparison and he had known a great many beauties over the last three hundred years. It was strange because the girl was not what usually suited his tastes. Despite his recent activities, he much preferred an older woman, one with experience and confidence. He also had a strong liking for dark hair and skin. He saw his own paleness daily and did not find it too becoming. But as if all his personal preferences were tossed to the wind, the girl who held his hand was the epitome of loveliness. She was a Goddess in tatters and he longed to worship.

He found it all quite peculiar and addictive. Stranger still, was that her character was the opposite of her looks - not that it was unbecoming by any measure, but it was so unlike what the girl should be. Her appearance promised an openness that was entirely absent. She had the potential to be outgoing and proud yet gentle and compassionate. With the appropriate amount of time and consideration, Vicente was sure that Abigale Lynn could bloom and flourish into such a woman. Unfortunately, while in the care of Janus Hassildor, he doubted such a thing would occur. The Count was far too busy obsessing over the girl rather than being inclined to nurture her.

It's so very shameful, Vicente thought as he finally cast his spell. She should be shown to the world, not chained to a bedpost. But as his influence crawled over her skin he couldn't bring himself to promise that he wouldn't do the same to her. She was far too precious and easily coveted by all. Abigale Lynn needed to be kept and watched and relentlessly fawned over. She needed to be, whether or not she knew it or wanted it.

The change in the room was immediate as her eyes finally opened and locked onto his own. She exhaled, her lips parting slightly and Vicente found himself admiring their fullness. The charm was strong at first, dangerously so. And given his current predicament, he half wondered what she would do. "You are no doubt overwhelmed right now. Take a moment and allow it to pass."

Abigale Lynn stared down confusedly at their joined hands, Vicente too wondered when exactly their fingers had intertwined. "I like it very much when the Count holds my hand." She admitted suddenly and with such passion that it caused Vicente to blink. "They are so big. He is so big. And his touch is cold, just like yours." She pouted and squeezed him a little tighter. "You may touch me if you like, so long as you are gentle and kind...do not presume in the erotic sense. I cannot give my permission for that, I'm sorry. But I would still very much like to please you," She made a little face, "Would my blood tempt you? Would you like it?"

Again he could only blink at the enamored girl. He knew well what his abilities could do but he was still rather shocked at how easily words tumbled from her lips. Not to mention her offer, which was astonishingly tempting. Both blood and touching..."It is an attractive proposal but I'm afraid I must decline. You would regret it in a few moments once my hold over you psyche wanes. Not to mention the Count's utmost displeasure that would undoubtedly follow." He smiled sadly, "I'm positive you would be worth it, but you would be the death of me then. And you would only endanger yourself, which I cannot allow. And, a rather unfortunate sidenote in present circumstance, Janus is my friend. I'm afraid you shall be a curiosity that I take to my grave." His eyes were pulled to her curves as she sat back in her chair. "Hmm, I am a vampire...what a disturbingly long time to pine."

She smiled at him, her gaze heavily lidded, "Eternal languish? It should not be so."

"Indeed, it should not." He thought the press of his fangs was pitiful. He was surprised by how quickly his own body was responding to her charm-induced words. He knew this was all magic and seduction, yet he hung onto her voice like a promise. Perhaps this curiosity should be remedied now? He felt awful as the question entered his mind, he was disgusted with himself but no less aroused and eager. It was pure insanity. He inwardly sought the control he had minutes ago gloated over.

Abigale Lynn cleared her throat and fanned herself. "You are a good friend, Vicente." She said shyly with the slightest of blushes creeping over her cheeks. Vicente winced over the unfortunate truth and his ridiculous notion of loyalty. She was righting herself as the spell began to settle down to its normal potency. "I am happy you would not touch me. I would never want to sully yours and the Count's friendship. Nor would I want to get between the two of you..." Her blush darkened and a small amount of fidgeting returned. "A-and I am also happy that you came to see me. I do enjoy your company. You make me laugh."

"I am far too good a friend to him." Vicente grieved, drumming his now free fingers across the tabletop, pouting all the while. "Janus Hassildor does not know how lucky a man he is...but he is why I am here. I wish to help you both. I truly do." He sighed heavily and tried his best to stop sulking. He hoped to get back to the matter at hand quickly. Anything to keep his mind off of his lingering hunger. "I came here tonight in the hopes of speaking to you. I know you are troubled by his recent confession. I can only imagine how much of a shock it caused."

Abigale Lynn nodded. "I am surprised you were told but perhaps that is foolish. You and the Count have known each other for a long time. It seems everyone knows of his secrets but me." She seemed to shrink a little at her own thoughts. "I realize now that I honestly don't know him. I still cannot believe it. How could he have kept her, Vicente? Why does he think I should not be so upset? I know I should be moved by the fact that he confided in me but I only feel deceived and dumb. I knew better. I let my guard down with him and I don't know why. I keep doing the wrong things."

Vicente watched her as she readjusted her robe. She looked utterly confused and frightened despite the magical hold he still had over her. "The wrong things? My dear, you follow his orders to the letter. Service and companionship with a beautiful smile. What could you possibly do that is wrong?"

"We slept together," She blurted, cheeks again a bright scarlet. "I knew it was wrong but I did not care. He drained me of my blood then left me in a closet to die and I slept with him...Look where it has gotten me now." Abigale Lynn buried her face in her hands and groaned. "They all said I was a harlot. They knew it before I did. I am his stupid whore. Gods I am so ashamed. I should have said no, b-but then he could have hurt me if I did. He wants to hurt me now, I know it."

"He should not have done those things to you, no...but I gather why he did, unfortunately. And you are no whore for lying with him, so stop thinking that. The man has been infatuated with you for quite some time now. He only showed you the Countess for the sake of honesty. He does not wish to hurt you, he has no reason to do so."

"But he does." She said quickly, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I cannot do what he wants anymore. He is a married man. I've done nothing but damage to Castle Skingrad and I won't willingly do more. I cannot ignore his marriage! If the Countess meant so little to him then why has he kept her for so long? He loves her still, a part of him must. A-and I respect him far too much to consent..." Her lower lip trembled and she again bowed her head, eyes turning glassy. "But I will. In the end, I am no one and nothing. He owns me entirely and I will honor our arrangement. I will surely die inside because I care for him and want him too, but I know it to be wrong and foul. One day he will see this as well. When that day comes he will find me repugnant and resent me." Abigale swallowed hard and looked away. "I will not refuse the Count again. It doesn't work, it only makes him angry."

Vicente tilted his head to the side as he observed her, finding her comments interesting and disturbing. "In a small way, I can now understand the Count's current anger. We vampires are very perceptive beings. We are able to communicate and travel through emotion and feeling. Janus can follow you around the Castle even if he is on the other side of Cyrodiil, by the way of your mood and inclinations. We can latch onto emotions and translate them like language. It is another form of communication that we are blessed with. He knows well of your desire so your denial must be frustrating."

Abigale Lynn was listening very intently. She did not speak, so he continued. "This does not excuse his actions, however. He holds you in high regard, I am a bit surprised that he misuses you so. On the other hand, I've known him to be absolutely mad about you for some time now. Absolutely raving mad, to be exact. So I am not as shocked as I should be. It is also very difficult for us vampires to control our appetites. His action would be predictable had I not known him to be at the peak of resolve and self-control. Power easily goes to a vampire's head. He has much of it and never once abused his rule. Present company excluded."

"It makes me feel odd to know." She admitted while hugging herself. "He let me do things that a servant, nevermind slave, should not do. I tried to ignore it. He made me too happy. I just wanted to be around him. Hearing him speak was bliss. He is so smart and knows so much. For the longest time, he did not touch me. Then the night I met you he pulled me into his bedchamber. I cried, I thought he wanted to sell me. It was the idea of leaving him that made me sad. I believe that is when I started to feel and notice things."

Abigale sighed and looked away, "I never wanted it to be this, Master Vicente. I tried to stop it, I really did. It was confusing and bad but the Count is...not easily dissuaded." She began to wring her hands, more of her normal unease returning. "I do not mean to frustrate him. I-I just thought that he would respect my wishes. Maybe it's a ridiculous notion but I believed that he cared enough to honor my denial. Is sex the most important aspect in love? I've never loved so I really don't know. How am I to do this? I'm driving him mad but I do not mean to be."

"I'll admit that I don't know why you are so against being with the man. Between you and I, his marriage has been over for decades -"

"But he is still married." She interrupted, eyes narrowing. "I will not willingly violate his marriage more. I watched my drunken mother destroy my father with her adultering ways. She broke him and yet he clung to her with a sadness and longing that all could see. She was disgusting and I refuse to follow in her footsteps. I cannot do that to another. Knowing that I have no say against it infuriates me."

Vicente quirked his brow and eyed her. It shamed him to admit it but he found her sudden fire becoming. It was a strenuous task to ignore the rekindling desire. "The only one suffering from your refusal is you. The Count is angry, yes, but you are the one miserable and Janus will torture you over it - in his own manner. He has a way of getting what he wants, as I am sure that you've come to realize." He mentally winced at the idea of his friend bullying the girl before him into compliance. "But the Countess left him first. Console yourself and your conscience with the knowledge of that...And what I am about to say is awful, but I feel it needs to be said, if solely for the preservation of yourself...deny him no longer. Please."

Abigale Lynn's expression twisted. "F-for the preservation of myself?" She repeated, looking confounded.

"Yes, and I mean that quite literally. The Count is strong and ill-tempered. He could easily make another mistake. I know he does not want to harm you, but with the way things are unfolding, I believe it to be inevitable. I think you are fortunate to be so undamaged." Vicente sighed as he watched Abigale's eyes again begin to shine with unshed tears. "I have tried to help guide him. I understand his impulses and know well of his inner turmoil as I too have felt it. He could hurt you beyond repair. Abandon your morals and unguard your heart. Not all scars are visible, my dear. So long as you are in his charge, obey. It would be unwise to continue to press your luck."

"H-he had just said something horrifyingly similar." Her lower lip trembled as a few stray tears began to flow. "Why? You said you know of his pain. Please, tell me what does he think? H-how is this just?"

"I did not say it was just, for it is not. But as far as the Count is concerned, you belong to him. And as far as the Empire is concerned, you belong to him. Same for us vampires, you belong to him." She whimpered at the word 'Empire'. He felt more pity for her then. The poor girl was naive if she believed Janus Hassildor did not follow up his promises with paperwork. Perhaps the girl thought it was more of a verbal bond rather than a written one. "There is only one person on Nirn who could possibly dispute this and even so, it would be a great task to encourage Janus to relinquish any hold over you."

"Who can speak for me?" She sniffled, sounding more defeated than interested.

"The one who owned you first." She looked confused, so he clarified. "Your father."

She paled, which was an achievement as Abigale Lynn was already the color of cream. He almost lost his influence over her entirely. She shrank and murmured, "M-my father did not own me. I was his child. I was not owned."

"Ah, now that is where you are wrong," Vicente said as he slid his chair closer. "Daughters are owned by their fathers until they are married. Then they are owned by their husbands. An outdated way of thinking, I understand, but the Count and I are outdated and thus still honor it. Janus may own you but he never had the written consent of your father. Who's to say your father would have even agreed to this sentence? He may have offered up himself, some family land, or even preferred your death rather than have you serve another for the rest of your days. Of course, the Count will not allow any of these things, and no sum of gold would interest him in the least...but written word or an audience with your father may sway him to be lenient. It would cause him to reflect, at least. He may not feel so entitled to your body as he does now."

"My father," She repeated, looking baffled. "I have not seen my father in over five years. I...he..." Her eyes darted about the room as she again chewed her lip. "If anyone could...he would...he would fight for me. Do you really think the Count would listen?"

"I do. Despite what you may think he honors family. Fathers, mother, wives, children..." Vicente sighed. "He holds that honor closer than any other man would, believe it or not. Fifty years of loyalty to an unmoving body is an impressive feat. So yes, I think he would listen to the man, should he wish to speak for you."

"I long to be less of a slave. A-any amount of leniency shown would greatly improve my life." She said in earnest, looking pained. Her pretty emerald eyes locked onto his form, staring deeply into him. She wanted to say something, that much was evident but she feared voicing her thoughts. Vicente allowed more of his influence to creep over the girl.

She did not need much in the way of encouragement. Abigale Lynn then abruptly moved closer to Vicente and tentatively retook his hand in both of hers. "This leads me to w-what I wanted to ask you earlier." She whispered, looking frightened. "Everything you said is true and I know I am not safe. I do not know how to be what he wants. I am deathly afraid of him...y-you said to me that you were in my debt, due to the actions of your underling." She thought back, trying to quote his words the best she could. "You said that you would try to help me if I needed anything. I am in dire need of you now. Please," She was frustrated with herself, trying her hardest to voice her desires. "Please take me away from Skingrad."

They were very close, Vicente realized, and her face was pleading and desperate. He had expected this request but was slightly unsure how to continue. "I was waiting for you to ask this of me," Vicente said matter-of-factly. "As fate would have it the Count needs something done. He has asked me to assist him with this task. Unfortunately, my position in the Brotherhood keeps me from actively doing this quest for him myself. I have two of my underlings with me now in Skingrad, awaiting my word to venture out. One is Nerah Vlando and the other..." He bit the inside of his cheek to keep his snarl at bay, "The other is required for his unique set of skills. I am telling you this because I think the Count may be persuaded to let you go with them.

"It will be...an interesting journey. A few weeks, at most. You would return to Janus. My Family would protect you as if you were one of our own. I think he may allow you to go because you would be under their watch, guarded and untouched with the promise of return." Abigale Lynn only stared in amazement, unbelieving that another had so graciously considered her. "The time away may greatly aid you both. I don't know where the journey will exactly take you, but you will not venture from Cyrodiil. Perhaps in your travels, you may see your father...it is uncertain but something to think about."

"They would truly protect me? W-would I not be an inconvenience?" She asked breathlessly.

"Quite the contrary. I think you would be a good third to bring. Nerah finds you endearing and you could act as a bit of a wedge between her and her brother. They don't work well together, you see." Vicente said with a bitter smile. "However, there is something that I do need to say...if you are able to go, I implore you not to panic. There is something I am purposely neglecting to tell you, for I fear it would dissuade you. Just trust when I say you would be in no danger. What you will see will greatly discomfort you and you will question my motives, no doubt. But again, do not fear. No harm will come to you." Hearing this caused her eagerness to falter. She went to release his hand but he held her tightly and did not allow her to do so. "I would not put you in harm's way, Abigale Lynn. You are very precious." She twitched slightly as he reached up and placed some hair behind her ear. He was unsure why, but he felt compelled to touch her pretty locks. Vicente then eyed the Count's bleeding mark on her neck and pouted. "I can heal those for you if you like. Take it as a sign of goodwill?"

She watched him nervously but nodded to him. He gently placed his hand against the wound and muttered a small healing enchantment. As the magic danced around them she again gained the courage to speak. "Do you think he will let me go? Even for a short while?"

"If he loves you he will." Vicente calmly replied, feeling her steady pulse beneath his palm. Her skin was warm - hot, even. "There is a chance, even though small. It would be unwise for you not to take it."

"How do you hope to convince him?" She asked, genuinely curious.

"With my charm, of course." He said while smiling cheekily at her. "My disposition allows me to do a great many things..." Again he looked her over and decided to try and implement said charm. He was behaving himself, no matter how difficult it was to do so. Vicente thought he rightfully deserved to do a little bad. "Hmph, his bite is rather lethal. I can smell that you are bleeding elsewhere and it is greatly infected. Porphyric Hemophilia. Such a distinct scent. Would you like me to clear that up for you as well?"

"Infected again? I was unsure..." She moaned in exasperation, looking worried and a bit disturbed. "Would you? I-it is on my...erm." She flushed again, that beautiful pink color, and parted her robe ever so slightly. She was still fully clothed but the condition of her dress and the blood-drenched state of the garments left little to the imagination. Vicente again felt spitefully jealous of Janus Hassildor.

"He will never learn." Vicente groused as he pressed his fingertips to her soft flesh. "The Count is perpetually a messy eater. I believe he enjoys the feel of blood just as much as he does the taste. That or his fangs are too big and he doesn't know how to properly use them." He again murmured a healing enchantment along with a curing spell, taking his sweet time to do so. He enjoyed the warm tenderness of her skin and the slickness of her dark blood. Her body was tense and she watched him carefully as his hand lingered on her bust. Vicente was intensely aware of the fresh blood that he had 'accidentally' pressed from the wound during the healing process. He pulled a puzzled expression and nodded to the vase behind her head. "Peonies? Are they your favorite? I was unaware they were even in bloom."

She looked confused and turned in her chair to glance at the little vase behind her. As she did this Vicente was quick to discreetly bring his bloodied fingertips to his mouth. It was a glorious mistake. The mere taste caused his fangs to unleash. She was sweet, unbearably so. It was liquid euphoria. Similar to decadent chocolate or rich honey - maybe even a cross between the two? He could not put to words just how she tasted, but it was dangerously good. He felt a dire need for more.

Vicente stared wide-eyed at her and found himself gripping the tabletop to keep from pouncing. He nearly splintered the wood. It was unexpected.

"Oh? I'm not sure. They were here when the room was given to me." Her words pulled him back but he wasn't fully 'there' yet.

"I think them beautiful much like you." He said abruptly and with so much passion that some of his Breton language unknowingly slipped into the sentiment. "Delicate, soft, pale...They match the natural blush of your cheek." Without realizing it he had reached up and took hold of her face. She gasped lightly, her eyes were bright, skin so smooth..."Yet when you flush from shyness you seem to glow and put all flowers to shame. Vampirism must be easy with you near as you are more radiant than the sun itself. And your eyes are like the waters of the sea at dawn. All so very alluring and impossible to ignore." His fingers were so dangerously close to her warm mouth. He wanted to touch her more.

Abigale Lynn swallowed hard but made no attempts at removing his hand. "You are too kind, Master Vicente b-but your flattery is making me uncomfortable. I'm sorry."

He watched her mouth then pale throat. He eyed her jumping pulse, then her pretty twiddling fingers. Despite it being unnecessary, he felt the need for air. It took all three hundred years worth of control to pull away. And he loathed having to pull away. "Forgive me, your blood is very potent." It was nearly painful to stop touching her, so much so that he almost missed the slip of his own tongue. "The scent of it, I mean. Very potent. Janus is a remarkably strong fellow...Sweet Sithis..." That was ridiculously difficult.

"I'm sorry," She said again, recovering fairly quickly. "I did not take my bleeding into account before I invited you in. I-it was my doing. I apologize."

"I did not mean to make you so uncomfortable. I have no right to touch you so impulsively, if at all." Vicente remarked with a guilty frown, feeling truly apologetic but still very interested in Miss Abigale. Perhaps too interested..."You are much calmer than I would have expected you to be, especially given circumstance."

But Abigale Lynn only smiled sadly at him. "I am accustom to such treatment."

XXXX

The Count marched gloomily outside of Skingrad's city walls. He stalked back and forth just south of Grateful Pass Stables and eyed the county's primary entrance. Even at this late hour, the West Gate proved busy. There were plenty of people - both numerous and nameless. They were just faces he could easily pursue. But he had no real intentions of feeding on any of his subjects. If he grew hungry he would simply go home and demand it of his Abigale Lynn. That was what she wanted and that is what he would do. Janus knew she would not refuse him that, at least. It was perhaps the only intimate thing she would allow.

He sighed, lost in thought, and leaned against a tree. His vantage point overlooked the many beautiful farms and vineyards of Skingrad. The hills beyond rolled endlessly, thick with trees that gently swayed from the night wind. He could see some minor mountains in the distance. Above him, the sky was clear, stars infinite. Through the red-leaf tipped branches of the tree he stood beneath, he mindlessly sought the constellations. But his mind was set firmly on his Castle and his beautiful, reluctant love within.

The moons were shining brightly so he kept his hood low over his face. He did not want his red eyes to show in the off chance that someone passed him by. The Count continued to observe the many people and their sluggish movements. Fatigue began to plague the citizens as a long day's worth of hard work began winding down to a close. Janus felt mildly amused and proud as he witnessed a young Altmer boy yawning by the stables. He would never feel so weary. His energy put that of the younger man to shame. He had vague memories of feeling humanly tired. Having been in his early forties when he was infected with vampirism, he recalled fearing his own mortality and the inevitable weakness that came with age. It was one of the many favorable traits of vampirism, he thought. He would be lying if he said his own vanity did not play a small part in his acceptance of the change.

As the Count stood and contemplated his disease he happened to notice a slight shift in the air around him. There was someone near...someone of interest. A scent he knew, not too far off. He felt it was a male but was uncertain where he had encountered the smell before. It wasn't exactly bad but it put him on edge. He was suddenly very aware and felt mildly hostile. Out of pure curiosity, he went to follow the trail, wondering who it would lead to when yet another change occurred around him. He felt almost as though Vicente was near but he knew him to be back at the Castle. Not to mention this energy was far too wild, a touch feminine and also distinctly familiar.

He cast a spell of invisibility and decided to investigate further. With a purposeful step, he approached his county's entrance. There he saw two figures arguing heatedly not far from the gate, much to a guard's displeasure, as he had to monitor their entry.

They spoke so quietly that even the Count's enhanced hearing could only make out snippets of conversation. The man spoke with an uninterested tone while the woman sounded desperate. He was dismissing her, that much was evident. She visibly slumped, loudly whined and eventually stalked off towards the vineyards. The man turned, made of all shadow by his cloak, and entered the city. Janus felt the need to follow him but knew it to be unwise to do so. His guards were not foolish and would easily see something amiss with his appearance. His lack sufficiently feeding brightened his eyes, tipped his ears, and sharpened his features. Even though shrouded it wasn't worth the risk. His current invisibility would not aid him either as the heavy gate did not open on its own...

Janus turned and instead pursued the woman. She grumbled and growled and kicked at pebbles as she walked. Her hood kept her person a mystery but as the Count drew closer, he began to recognize the slurs of profanity. Also as he moved closer still, he noticed something peculiar. This woman's energy was far too similar to Vicente Valtieri's, far too similar. The Count almost laughed, had he not felt so duped. It seemed his 'great advisor' needed to heed his own words of self-control...

He followed her until they were well away from any mortal eyes. Then, when he deemed it safe, he made himself known. "You are tremendously unaware of your surroundings. I imagined a Dark Brotherhood assassin to be more skilled." The Count had yet to drop his invisibility. He stood sneering as the girl nearly shrieked and unleashed a dagger, then another.

"Show yourself you cowardice, fetcher!" She growled, eyes flashing. Janus had expected her to brandish her weaponry and was pleased that she did. With the thought of a spell and the flick of his wrist, she was unarmed. Both daggers flew from her hands and sank into the bark of a nearby tree. "What the-?! Shit!" She hissed and pulled a leather cord from around her waist, wrapping it purposefully in her hands. "Where the hell are you?!" She spun around wildly, searching the darkness. Although he had not expected to see another weapon, he used it to his advantage. With another wordless incantation, the leather froze solid in and around her hands, effectively binding her. The sudden weight and shock brought her to her knees with a yelp.

With the girl fully incapacitated, the Count materialized before her. She swore and senselessly tried her hardest to release herself. "The ice cannot be broken, only melted by magical means...how mournful for you. All your new strength rendered useless."

She glared up at him, her now red eyes narrowing into little slits. Upon recognizing him her expression changed dramatically, going from hate to mirth in moments. "Well, hello there! I was wondering why I could not hear a heartbeat. Thought I had lost the ability or feared I was growing rusty. This is most welcome news, indeed." Nerah Vlando again tugged on her ice-shackles, grunting all the while. "Your reputation precedes you, Count Assildor. Oh, excuse me, Hassildor. Pardon, pardon." She placed her boot against the frozen strap, again trying to tug herself free. "Quite. The powerful. Mage." She grunted, accentuating each word with yet another strain.

The Count stared down at the gangly youth. He thought she looked much like a dead spider in her current position, it only served to further irk him - a literal pest in his county. "Your Master has some gall. He preaches to me of discipline and he dares to judge me. Vicente thinks it's wise to tell me how to handle my desires and yet look what I find..."

The girl stopped her struggling for a moment to look at the Count in exasperation. "You have found and caught a malnourished baby vampire. Vicente's baby vampire, to be exact. So, congratulations. I can see your frustrations but they really aren't warranted. I'm sure Vicente could explain better. Now, as I've been forbidden to 'nourish' while in your territory, would you kindly let me go? I wish to continue brooding in peace. Not all of us are able to mope for decades, you know."

The Count did not like Vicente's ward in the least. Her demeanor and now current vampirism only further diminished his view. Janus was in no mood to bicker with a child. He straightened himself and glared, "You insolent girl. You will watch your mouth while in my territory and treat me with all the respect your foul form can muster. I may be friend to your Master but my clemency will only stretch so far. With your newfound unlife, my implements of punishment have vastly broadened. I could bleed you out in my dungeons and your Masters would have no say. You are already dead. I would not be breaking any pact or word."

This gave her pause, much to the Count's pleasure. Her face twitched into a scowl and she turned her head away. "Sorry."

"Better. Vicente needs to have you on a tighter leash. You are a lady, act it in my presence." Janus approached the much younger vampire and carefully heated the ice, causing it to melt. She only frowned and watched the process. "You will accompany me back to the Castle. I need to have another chat with your Master and you will serve as the subject's principal."

Author's Notes: These chapters are getting soooo long! Idk. Recently I've liked the idea of less but longer chapters. I want to let the story flow but I don't want anyone overwhelmed by a ridiculously long update. Which is preferred? Lemme' know! Plz! 8D