Author's Notes: The reviews make me so happy~! I can't believe I get so many and they really encourage me to continue! Not that I'm trying to be a review prostitute or anything...*shows leg* XD Seriously, thank you! They keep me going with LoB! AND feel free to write your speculations in the reviews! I really don't mind as I don't think it 'spoils' anything. I'm not exactly vague. Not a strong suit! Also a quick note! Instead of outright writing in French and leaving poor readers to the clutches of google translate like some authors tend to...I'm trying to avoid that XD BEEN trying to avoid that. You'll see what I mean...Several Breton and half-Breton characters in this fic, however. Some speak it, some don't! There's probably 1000 grammatical errors in this chapter. Sorry! It's so darn long.

Love or Blood

Chapter Forty-eight: Black Horse

xxxx

I awoke many hours later from a dreamless sleep, feeling sore and exhausted, despite resting for so long. My neck was stiff, bruised and caked in dry blood. I frowned at the feeling. I had tangled myself in the Count's blankets but I did not recall covering myself with them, nor did I remember falling asleep in his bed. My last memory was of my own tears, the Count had been holding me tightly. I had been so afraid while lying beside him. My horrible imaginations had exhausted me.

I stayed covered and unmoving as I debated on looking around the room. All that transpired last night kept me from wanting to move. I did not want it to be known that I was awake. Further, I did not know if I was alone in the Count's bedchamber and I lacked the energy to gaze upon him if I was not. He had said so many awful things to me. Even with his apology, I could not forgive him. This man that I cared for...he had made so many of my fears come true. I wondered what was left for him to do but I also knew he was more than capable of surprising me. Sometimes his cruelty seemed endless.

In my hysteria, I had told the Count of my feelings. At first, he looked spiteful and angry - always so angry. Then he had me lie beside him as I cried. After that, I remembered nothing but questioning if I was to wake the following day. It was sheer terror. Perhaps my fears were misguidedly strong but his earlier threats had me cowering. Hearing someone you care for promise to rip out your heart, all the while knowing it would be a simple task for them was mortifying. I wondered if I would ever stop hearing him say it in my head

Tears formed in my eyes and burned. I was so tired of crying and just wanted it to stop. I missed my happiness and I hated this current self-pity. I had no control over my life in any aspect no matter how minute. No longer did I have the strength to hold onto my morals or fight for what I believed in - I simply felt I existed now. Not useful enough to be a tool, I was but a trinket, something small that belonged in another's pocket. A trinket has no voice, a trinket is just pretty and owned. I could and would be cherished whether or not it was warranted or wanted.

Suddenly, the bed shifted as someone sitting beside me moved. I turned around quickly, holding the covers to my chest as I stared at the Count. My heart began to race as he simply watched me. He was fully clothed, dressed finely and looking ever composed and placid. Knowing he had been there the whole time chilled me. He tilted his head slightly and spoke quietly. "How are you feeling?"

The question stunned me. I wondered if he was inquiring about my physical or mental state. I shook my head at him, unsure of how to appropriately respond. I did not want to lie out of fear of his reaction. Nodding was all I could do but I knew he did not like it so I quickly apologized. "I'm s-sorry." I nearly choked in my confusion.

He frowned and looked away for a moment. "I wish you would not do that. You have no need to apologize." He ran a hand down his face wearily and stood from the bed. "I understand that you do not wish to talk to me. I do not blame you but we do need to. There is much that needs to be discussed." His voice was tense. The Count walked to his bedchamber door, his step slow and lacking its usual purposeful gait. "Feel free to wash, you know you need not ask permission to do so. Take your time. Try to relax. I'll bring you your potions and clothes."

I only watched his back in confusion as he left his bedchamber. His sudden returned compassion left me discontented. I did not trust or understand it. However, I carefully did as told and went to wash myself.

XXXX

Hours earlier, Hal-Liurz had returned to the Count's manor. She was again summoned by a bell, this time the call came from the Count's bedchamber. The Stewardess was tired, having not slept a wink but proceeded down the hall with determination. However, as she entered the apartments, she faltered. Standing in the corridor with his arms crossed while looking utterly furious was the Count. He was unfortunately in a distasteful company. The Dark Brotherhood assassin had yet to leave as he too stood in the hall, seemingly much calmer than the Count.

The Stewardess disliked the Count's assassin 'friends' very much. She was not ignorant, she understood the usefulness the Count no doubt garnered from such a vast and organized group. Nevertheless, she despised the entire cult and thought it more than dangerous to associate with them.

The two had been talking but the conversation ended quickly with her approach. "My Lord," Hal-Liurz was quick to tersely greet them. Quicker still to inquire about a certain girl who was last left in a questionable state. "How does she fare?" She asked the Count's dangerous friend. He was the last person she saw with her, after all.

Valtieri gave a polite bow of his head. "Miss Abigale Lynn is resting. Sleep is a wonderful medicine. Come morning she will be in better spirits, of this I am certain." The Stewardess greatly disliked how charming this man was. From what she knew of the Count, vampires were extremely volatile and naturally proficient killers. This assassin was a contradiction to the Count's nature. She did not doubt his capabilities but she did question his motives and methods. He was dangerous, no matter how hard he pretended not to be. She often wondered why he pretended not to be...

Valtieri's assumption made the Count's face twitch but he did not comment. Instead, the Count swallowed hard and turned to his Stewardess, expression growing mournful. He handed her a heavy purse of gold which the Stewardess then eyed skeptically. "I need you to have equipment for travel purchased -"

"Nothing too extravagant, by Sithis...all that gold is not required." The other vampire suddenly interrupted, looking and sounding thoroughly taxed and a tad annoyed. "All will be provided for. I don't know what you do not understand. She must blend in. A gold plated horse-drawn carriage will rouse suspicion, believe it or not."

"Do not mock me!" The Count quickly argued, startling the very tired and confused Stewardess. "It will give me peace of mind knowing that all her needs are met. I want every precaution taken. No corner cutting. If she is to join you I must prepare her accordingly."

Hal-Liurz waited for her turn to speak. The Count had been in quite the mood earlier and he still had yet to settle back into his usual temperament. Still, the Stewardess made it a point to be mindful as she spoke. She was thoroughly disgusted with the man. Nevertheless, causing the Count to be angry could negatively affect Abigale Lynn, she did not want that. "Who is going where, Sir?"

Again, the Count made a face and tapped his foot obnoxiously. He certainly did not look himself but the Stewardess harbored no pity for the man. Not in the slightest as his earlier actions played out sloppily in her imagination. She still could not fathom it but unfortunately pictured it just fine. Hal-Liurz found it saddening that after so many years of servitude, she was now questioning Janus Hassildor's honor..."I am sending Abigale Lynn away, for a time." The Stewardess' expression altered dramatically but was easily overlooked. "There has been some turbulence in our relationship. For her comfort, I am sending her off, as per her request."

For a moment, Hal-Liurz only stared, unsure of how to digest the Count's wording. "...Turbulence. Turbulence? Is that what we are calling what you have been doing to her?" Again, the Count's face twitched. Although the Stewardess wanted no harm to come to Abigale Lynn, she could not stifle her moral outrage. Nor could she remain quiet as an image of the girl in question again flashed through her mind. A small, horrified girl, trying her best to block a doorway, fearful of her Master's return. "She will no longer do what you want so you are booting her from the Castle?! How dare you! But perhaps this is benevolent of you, after all of the torture you have put her through, releasing her is kind! I never dreamt of seeing such monstrosities while in service to a Hassildor!"

The Count's eyes widened and for a time, he was rendered silent. Vicente shifted uncomfortably beside him, saying nothing but fearing an inevitable Janus outburst. He was surprised that none came. When the Count recovered from his initial shock, his spoke with his usual diplomacy. "She is not leaving me permanently, only for a short while. I have affairs that need tending to and she has asked to leave while I make the arrangements. I am honoring her request."

"How remarkably kind of you." Hal-Liurz sneered, suddenly made very aware of Valtieri's presence in the Castle. "What part does he play in all of this?"

"Abigale Lynn will be overseen by the Brotherhood for my comfort."

Now it was the Stewardess' turn to stare. She gaped in mortification and sputtered near incoherently. "Wha-? A-are you out of your mind? You are entrusting her to the Dark Brotherhood?! You realize that they specialize in the murders of innocence? You've gone barking mad! If she means anything to you, you will not send her off with them! She will not ever return she -!"

"We specialize in discretion and secrecy. Murder is only half of our repertoire." Vicente Valtieri suddenly interrupted casually with his usual mirth. "Abigale Lynn is precious to your Count and he is precious to the Brotherhood. We are providing him a service. She will be housed, watched and protected with extreme diligence and care. She will be as Family."

"Family?! So you intend her to partake in bloody orgies, murder and the like? Hah! You both are delusional! Sir, he obviously wants her for his own personal reasons -"

"Enough!" The Count snapped, again looking outraged. "Abigale Lynn asked this of him, then he asked this of me. I owe her this. Vicente has sworn to me years ago that the Brotherhood has taken a vow not to harm any of my possessions...Abigale Lynn is considered as such, as are you, in your own right." The Stewardess only blinked in confusion as the Count came forward, looking conflicted. "No harm will ever come to her or you at the hands of the Brotherhood. He has long ago proved to me how strongly he holds to that bond. If I can trust anyone to protect the ones I care for, it is him. Moreso than myself. They are bound by oath. I only have my self-control and it has proven limited as of late."

The Count ran a nervous hand through his hair. Hal-Liurz only watched him fixedly. She knew most of the Count's information regarding the other counties and territories came from the Brotherhood, yet she wondered what the cult gained from his friendship - besides the obvious gold. Indeed, the Count's wealth was seemingly endless. Tied in several estates throughout the provinces, going as far north as Skyrim and Highrock and far to the south vested in trade routes throughout Elsweyr, Valenwood, and even Black Marsh, she supposed their gain lie more in his reach. The Brotherhood could very easily piggyback on a Skingrad sanctioned caravan or even lodge at a Hassildor property...perhaps even nest within the West Weald, provided he gave his blessing.

It was a cushy setup and with the Count's immortality, it offered exceedingly long term stability. If he was happy, so were they. It gave the Stewardess some level of comfort.

In addition, Abigale Lynn had apparently asked Valtieri for his assistance - Hal-Liurz could not blame the poor girl. The Dark Brotherhood obliged, perhaps seeing more rewards that would surely come their way if they housed the Count's current 'interest'. Still, the Stewardess felt at odds with the entire ordeal. "Is she even aware that you are Brotherhood?" She asked Vicente dryly, unable to keep the contempt from her look.

"Yes, dear Stewardess, she is very informed. Miss Abigale Lynn is a very considerate and very understanding lady. I believe she is not deterred by my profession as the Count to has to utilize such methods in order to remain healthy." Vicente gave a small respectful bow. "As you have seen, she harbors no resentment or fear of my person. I do not think it is due to some secretive penchant for vampires either." He gave Hal-Liurz a teasing wink, causing the Argonian to bristle.

"About that..." The Count interrupted while suddenly adopting the Breton language, much to the Stewardess' displeasure as she no longer understood the conversation. "I do not recall giving you permission to touch her in any manner."

Vicente stared at the ceiling with mild irritation over the statement, also easily switching to his native tongue. "She was bleeding. She was infected. She was in pain. I was only helping -"

"Helping yourself to fondle her breasts?"

"Sweet Sithis, boy! You are so very insecure. I did not fondle Abigale Lynn. I only touched her." The Count shot Vicente a dangerous look. "What?...Ugh! No! Not in that way! You are impossible!" Vicente buried his face in his palm and shook his head. "You do realize that she is perfectly capable of telling you if I did something she did not like, yes? Given the state that she was left in, I would re-evaluate your accusations. Look at your own reflection if you wish to point fingers of abuse."

The Stewardess sighed irritably as the two continued to argue in what she considered gibberish. She eyed the very fat purse in her scaled hand and surmised that the bag had to contain at least five hundred septims. Depending on where Abigale Lynn was headed, this was either far too much or far too little. "Where is she going and for how long?" She finally worked in when a brief lull formed in their clipped and strange back and forth.

"Cheydinhal." The Count answered fast, ignoring Vicente's smug look. Hal-Liurz assumed the Dark Brother had won their secretive debate. "They may need to travel elsewhere which is why I want to have all purchased and accounted for." He nodded to the gold. "She'll need warm and durable clothing for travel: boots, cloaks, gloves. Something sturdy that she can carry everything in too...potions as well, as a precaution. Make certain that they are not strong, she cannot handle potent brews. Soaps, the ones that she likes. Scrolls for warmth...do I need to buy her a horse? I could hire a carriage, minus the 'gold plating'."

"A carriage is not required and neither is a horse, as ours are fast and strong. We will be more than happy to provide her with anything. All her needs will be met, I assure you. Food, lodging, travel - we will gladly take care of all. Anything more you wish to purchase is extra. I implore you not to weigh her down with what you think is needed. Just purchase small things. Traveling clothes are a good idea. Her soaps too. Little items that will bring her comfort. She will not be gone for more than a month or two."

"Fine." The Count settled, still looking apprehensive about the whole ordeal. He nodded to the Stewardess. "Please, see to it at dawn. Have it sent up when ready, she'll be leaving at sunset."

Hal-Liurz too nodded, still feeling very unsure herself. She did not like this plan but she did secretly agree to the idea of it. Presently, Abigale Lynn could only benefit from getting away from Janus Hassildor. "Will I get to say farewell to her?"

The Count turned to scrutinize the Stewardess. "Since when did you care enough for her to do so? I thought you held nothing but resentment toward my maid?" Hal-Liurz flushed in anger, remembering all too well the many conversations she and the Count had over the girl. No, she never approved of their closeness and the recent events inside of Castle Skingrad were her key examples why.

"You are greatly mistaken if you think I will not say goodbye. I promised her I would see her again tonight. Blessedly for her, she managed to fall asleep. You cannot deny me this."

The Count quirked his brow, to her chagrin, his expression challenging. "Can't I?"

"Why on Nirn would you?" The Stewardess countered. "It seems you have gotten used to being needlessly cruel to those weaker than you. My Lord, you will not be giving me the same treatment you give that poor girl." She raised her chin and gave the bag of gold a purposeful shake. "I will do as commanded and have the necessary equipment purchased. I will also be back before she is to leave and I will be accompanied by Tualga. She will no doubt wish to say goodbye too. Good evening." With that, the Stewardess turned on her heel and left, not sparring the vampires in the hall a second glance.

"Hmph, rather fiery, that Stewardess. I've always liked her." Vicente commented playfully, turning to face the Count. "She is right, you know. There is really no need for such behavior. You are still very much in control of your Castle, Janus. Your rule is not being altered. Abigale Lynn is simply-"

"I need no coddling." The Count growled, running both his hands through his hair.

"Of course not. Well, I for one, am going to bed. Dawn is breaking. Not to mention listening to violent arguments all night has a negative effect on my nerves..."

xxxx

I stared up at the stone ceiling of the Count's bathing chamber. The water had begun to cool but I could not bring myself to leave it. I did not want to loose what little warmth was offered. The cold water was mostly my doing as I could not focus when initially filling the basin. My thoughts were everywhere and erratic. Occasionally I found myself staring off into nothingness, the strangest things coming to my memories.

My mother began to cloud my thoughts. I could nearly hear her voice, telling me of my beauty and its worth. It would be my salvation, she had said, as I had no other redeemable qualities about my person. I was not skilled, talented or educated in any regard - my mother worded it all more eloquently, of course. She said it in a sweetly condescending manner. 'Good thing that you are beautiful, Hummingbird!' or 'Why waste your efforts trying, your face is all you need.' and one that now haunted me, 'You'll find your talents on your back, dear. Trust your mother!'.

Her voice was musical like a bell. Her red curly hair would dance as she laughed and her brown eyes were always mischievous. It took me years to understand her. Even now while in the Count's large bath, I only understood her actions but not why she did them. The young me did not know why my mother marched me around with her. The young me innocently gazed up as mother pinched my cheeks and lips pink, tousled my hair and undid the buttons on my blouse, then proceeded to walk me into the local tavern. No, the young me offered no protests as I was seated in the laps of strange men, watching as mugs of ale were slid into my mother's waiting hand. She was simply a doting mother and social woman, I had told myself. Only once some bystander noticed the awkward tradeoff did I realize something was amiss in my mother's actions.

My coming into womanhood early had been very beneficial on my mother's part. Having been pulled from school and made to 'assist' my elder sister in the care of her many children, I was always so happy to leave with my mother at nightfall. After realizing how wrong it was, I no longer could. I was young, so very young. A girl being traded in the gentlest way possible. I vowed to stay inside then and I did just that unless told otherwise, as my father seemed bent on me trying to socialize as a normal girl would. I felt too sullied. And to further this I was often dragged into the Chaple of Dibella. I was fawned over, examined and discussed. I hated their eyes on me. I hated the books I was shown. I was afraid when a trip to Skyrim had been mentioned. There was already a 'Sybil' so what was I, they wondered. And there was something wrong with me, I was not accepting. I would not open myself to the Goddess or her teachings. It seemed my heart was unreachable and I incapable, so they tried to force love from me...a reoccurring theme.

I stood in the middle of the tub, my body and mind felt as though they were humming, and stared down my own reflection. I was no 'Goddess Touched' girl. I was no 'Blessed One'. All were wrong. I was Abigale Lynn, the property of Count Janus Hassildor - oddly and cruelly humorous as he was the only being on Nirn I ever cared to give my heart to, yet I was unable. I wondered angrily if all was some sort of Divine joke. A cruel jest at my person. I often thought it was such a thing...

My mind flicked to darker self-loathing corners. A burn on the face of a Goddess. My shoulder throbbed angrily, I grabbed it, scowling. I closed my eyes and tried my hardest to not think of the Daedric Prince Molag Bal. An initial gift turned ROTTEN. The ache in my shoulder vanished, replaced by a sudden pain in my lower abdomen. I yelped and doubled over. It hurt, my body was soon covered in a cold sweat from it. The feeling lasted only a moment but was strong enough to make my eyes water and legs weak. Cautiously, I straightened myself. I wondered what it was but all thoughts quickly vanished and were forgotten by a gentle knocking on the door.

I dropped back into the water fast, holding onto the tub's rim. "I-I did not lock it, Sir."

The door opened and in he walked, carrying two small potion vials and some of my clothes. From my position on the floor in the basin, the Count looked impossibly large. A thousand images flitted through my mind from the previous evening and I had to look away. "Are you nearly finished?" He asked, his tone still gentle. I still did not know how to take his sudden returned compassion. I was also well aware of how quickly it could vanish. I found myself mindlessly sinking deeper into the chilly water. "You heart is so loud. Please, try to calm yourself. I swear to you that I will not harm you, Abigale Lynn...I know how hollow it must sound to you now. Try to believe it."

The Count knelt down with his hand out to me. I chewed my lip and took it after a brief moment of hesitation. Truthfully, I did not want to again be so exposed and easily accessible for him. However, I reminded myself that no matter what state of dress I was in, I was easily accessible. So long as I was in Castle Skingrad, I was his. I swallowed hard and stood before him.

He was kind, or he was trying to be. Quickly wrapping me in a towel and assisting in my drying like he had once done days ago. I did not like it but said nothing against his actions. I remained stiff and uncomfortable, a bundle of nerves, constantly twitching and jumping even at the lightest caress. Soon I was dressed and warm, greedily drinking the potions he had offered me. I did not think he had passed his disease to me with his last feeding but I knew better than to play chance with such a thing. The healing draught was most welcomed and left me feeling physically rejuvenated. I tested my muscles when the Count was not looking, rolling my shoulders and experimenting with their flexibility. The horrible stiffness in my neck vanished entirely.

"Any better?" He asked as lead the way back to his room. Last night, for almost the entire duration of the evening and for the majority of the passing week, I had seen him do nothing but scowl and glare. His tones were clipped, posture estranged and mannerisms cold. Only hours ago he had been a monster. To see him now so charming and helpful worried me. I did not trust it. I wondered what he was up to. The Count was clever and knew how to work me...I did not feel safe.

I kept a reasonable distance from him as I walked but followed and answered obediently, regardless of my secret suspicion. "Yes, Sir. Thank you."

"Good. Yes, that is good to hear. Will you come sit?" He looked over his shoulder at me as he posed his question. I nodded but quickly stared down at the floor. I wondered how he could do it - revert to such a calm demeanor after a night of awfulness. Was he secretly ashamed and trying to do good by me? Was he still very angry and hiding it, saving something nasty? I no longer knew and my anxieties nearly made me stumble as I walked.

I sat on the sofa and watched in a mix of fascination and dread as the Count took a seat beside me. I eyed his chair. I wanted him to go to it. "I have been thinking..." He began uneasily. He sat slumped, elbows on his knees, his hands clasped and hanging between the gap of his legs. It was very unlike his usual presence. "I regret much that happened last night. My actions are deplorable, I know. I also know that an ordinary apology will not do any justice. It certainly brings me no comfort with all the harm that I have caused you... I...I do not know why I do what I do." He sighed, a hand came up to run through his hair. "There is a part of me that feels entitled. Can I be blamed? Probably. I cannot stifle it, however. All those things I said in your chamber, I meant for them to be untrue but when I heard them aloud they sounded right. It felt good to hear it. It felt good to know. I crave the validation."

I continued to watch him silently from the corner of my vision as he went on. "Then you refused me, despite me knowing that you wanted to be with me. I - no, it was infuriating. You are absolutely infuriating. You do not talk. You do not speak! Had you simply told me why you did not want to be with me I would have...I do not know what I would have done - been more understanding, of that I am certain, though. I am not a mind reader, Abigale Lynn. You left it up to me to guess the issue and I guessed wrong and then I acted on those misguided assumptions."

The Count watched me pensively, the stare made me uncomfortable. "That is all I feel I can adequately explain to you. Do not think I am trying to make an excuse for my behavior. You not talking should never spur violence on my part in any form. Everything I did to you was wrong, whether or not I was acting on something I believed to be true. And no, I do not expect your forgiveness with this admission. I have been treating you like a plaything - how I once handled my toys as a boy. I know it is wrong and vile. I am ashamed...and I do love you. I love you so, which is why I am very confused."

He quickly took my hand and the action made me recoil on impulse. He overlooked it. "What you said is right. You were always right and you did not even know the gravity of the situation. This is very wrong of me. How can I demand love from you while still bound to another? Still housing another? I just wanted to be with you so, you make me happy, I overlooked the sin of it all. I think the repression is making me ill in a violent way. No, I'm not excusing my behavior, merely trying to make sense of it all." He stroked my knuckles, voice growing into a soft murmur. "I have never properly mourned the loss of my wife. For so many years I believed she would someday wake for me. When she did not, I kept her still. She was with me even when she was not. A companion to my soul, I suppose. I did not want to be alone. Eventually, I sought her peace. I left it in the hands of others and took it slow. I did not think too greatly on it. I only clung to my silent companion, unbelieving that she would one day be truly gone. I cared for her for so long that I grew to hate her passionately and called it love. I had forgotten what real love was, then I found it again in you."

The Count stared at me then, the look intense and desperate. I again turned my gaze to the floor. "She will be gone from me soon, Abigale Lynn. It has nothing to do with you. Had you never broken into my Castle, she still would be passing shortly. It fell into place in the most tragic manner and nothing either of us say or do will change it. She begged me for this many years ago. I am a coward to have taken so long to grant her wish...but it will be done. You do not need to like it but you are no murderess. This has nothing to do with you...which is why you should not be here for my grief."

Finally, I looked up to him again in confusion. His words held many different implications. I swallowed hard and let him continue. His tone became serious. "Do not confuse my words, I relinquish nothing. However, I have been too cruel to you. I know that only actions will prove my feelings for you now, which is why I am granting your request."

I searched his face, utterly shocked. I did not understand, I did not believe it. The Count vowed last night that he would never let me go anywhere. Could he really have changed his mind? Was he telling the truth? Could this be a ruse, was he secretly watching my actions, hoping that I would rejoice so he could punish me for it? I tried not to make any incriminating moves. I only shook my head at him. "I-I do not understand, Sir."

"I believe you understand perfectly well. You want to leave me or shall I say: take a leave from me. I cannot blame you, my treatment has been abhorrent and shameful. With this in mind, I am permitting you to go. You may...you-" He stopped and looked away, brow furrowed and angry. "You will go and you will be chaperoned by the Brotherhood for my peace of mind. They will keep you safe and tended. I know you do not believe me to be genuine, so I have commanded it. You may not refuse, nor will you return until my current business with the Brotherhood is concluded. You will be assisting in this task, serving me still. You will see the country safely. That is something I regrettably cannot join you in."

The Count held my shoulders tightly then, no doubt observing my very shocked and apprehensive expression. "Do not mistake this, Abigale Lynn. You are still mine and you will be brought back to me. This is merely a reprieve, I am trying to be good to you again." He placed my still damp hair behind my ear and moved closer to me. "I love you so. I need to prove this to you. I need you to be happy...but know that when you return you will be mine completely. There will be no questioning this. I will have you and your love unconditionally, forever. Do you understand? There is no alternative and I will not accept any arguing over it." I was still in such great shock that when he said this to me my expression did not falter. I only nodded to him, my heart racing fearfully. "I also intend to make an honest woman out of you. I now know of your great moral code and I do not want you to think that I have sullied your virtue. I also selfishly want all of Nirn to know who you belong to. We shall get to that in time."

I swallowed hard, slowly registering the Count's demands as he leaned in close. He kissed me slowly, meaningfully. I closed my eyes on reflex as I inwardly froze in pure indignation. I cared greatly for the Count, I truly did in spite of everything. However, if I heard and understood him correctly when I returned I was to become his bride. He still had a bride, he still had a wife,' how could I be his beyond my servitude? I was a slave, I did not understand how it was possible. Not only that but he had said forever...Eternal matrimony to a vampire only meant one thing. The Count deepened his kiss and I was intensely aware of his cold embrace. He was letting me leave to enjoy the sun. Enjoy the warmth and light on Nirn, for when I returned I would never know it again.

XXXX

The hour was growing late. Vicente Valtieri managed to slip away from Castle Skingrad thanks to his remarkably thick cloak and a half-truth. He had told the Count that he needed to inform his Brother about the slight alteration in their plans. Yes, a half-truth, as his Brother already was well aware of such a possibility - and dearly hoping for it.

As the sun began to set, he rounded one final corner and entered the very lavish West Weald Inn. Relief washed over him as the sun's harmful rays were no longer pounding on his back. Cloaked or not, Vicente had not eaten in days and was presently no match for daylight, even if sparse. The darkly painted glass windows were a great comfort to the vampire and a very considerate choice of Count Hassildor.

With his hood pulled low over his face, he walked by the bustling patrons and went right to the inn's rooms. More pretty corridors, fancy pottery, exotic plants and handsome masonry. Most valued of all this finery, however, was the absolute privacy the bedrooms had to offer. Thick doors with thicker locks. Yes, the Dark Brotherhood's Family members very much enjoyed the West Weald Inn.

As he walked the hall, Vicente would be lying if he said that he did not feel the slightest bit crude. Although the offer he proposed was genuine and he was greatly pleased that both parties accepted, he could not stop his new unease. After the Count had mentioned the death of Abigale Lynn's parents, he faltered in his judgment. Nevertheless, he decided that it was safest for the beautiful girl to be housed by his Family while the Count mourned. It was no selfish lie but an honest gesture that turned a tad indulgent.

Once Vicente had received confirmation about the witch, he had also received a very odd letter by the same courier from his friend beseeching him for help. The Count had attacked his young friend and was greatly torn over it. The letter had disturbed Vicente. Janus was not a man who fell to temptation easily, but he did indeed fall, and he went down hard. Having had just seen the Count before said attack, he knew him to be rather...rattled. Janus was greatly attached to his Abigale Lynn, if anything happened to her he would surely crumble. Vicente worried for his friend. When he expressed this fear to his Family they agreed that something needed to be done. The Dark Brotherhood wanted the Count stable for their own selfish purposes. Vicente just wanted his friend happy. If he could help both friend and Family with one deed he was more than happy to do so.

So when his hand remained midair before his Brother's door, he was curious as to why he hesitated. Perhaps it was because of how quickly his request to aid the Count was granted. Perhaps it was because he knew well why a certain Speaker had pushed the issue...perhaps it was because said Speaker had already done great harm to Abigale Lynn before he had even met her. Then when he met her, he harmed her more.

Vicente shook the thoughts and knocked with his usual rhythm. No harm would come to the girl, he had taken great measures to ensure this. Although she would no doubt curse both the day of his birth and death, Vicente knew this was the right thing to do for both Count and servant. He could not stomach the thought of his friend hurting Abigale Lynn. Not at all. It made him angry. Hearing the violent things Janus had said made him shockingly livid. It took much effort on his part to keep from interfering and he was not too sure why.

The door was spelled open and Vicente entered the room with a sigh, trying to force the sudden tension from his shoulders. His Brother stood in the corner by the window, mercifully closing the curtains, nose still in a book. "You are early. Must have been a painful trek. Miss Vlando go to the Castle with you?"

Vicente removed his hood and flopped into the nearest chair, still weary from the sun. "Actually, she was found and brought to the Castle by Janus. He was very displeased with me. I nearly had to run her back here with my tail between my legs. You know he does not like Nerah...You do realize that if he had the mind to kill her I would be powerless to intervene?" The Speaker only shrugged, gaze still set passionately on the book in his hands. "We have an accord with the Count of Skingrad. Nowhere does it say that he cannot dispatch undead members - just the living ones. He is not a fool and knows of this loophole. So please, why in Sithis' name did you 'banish' her from the city?"

"Much like Count Hassildor, I find her person offensive to my extremely delicate sensibilities. I am a tender soul, Vicente. A man of simple pleasures. Her youthful scorn wounds me." He was amused by his own words and carefully seated himself near the darkened window, turning a page in his book. "And speaking of pleasures...how is my dear lady fairing?"

Vicente shot him a dangerous glance. "Do not forget your oath, dearest Brother. But to answer your question, the poor girl is not well. Sick from fear. Janus can be a severe fellow when he wants to be." The vampire sighed and rubbed his temples gingerly. "However, he knows this and has agreed to our offer. As such...I shall be needing that amulet now."

The book closed with a loud 'clap', the sound quickly followed by a sinister chuckle. Dark eyes shifted to Vicente, a wicked smirk twisting along the Speaker's face. "Of course. By all means, take it to her." He reached under the collar of his tunic and pulled up the chain of a gold and onyx amulet. He took his time working the clasp, eventually dangling the jewel before his Brother. "Would you be so kind as to let her know that I have kept it close to my heart for safe keeping?"

Vicente stood and snatched the neckless, examining it quickly. "Ha! She would never wear it then."

The Speaker's eyes darkened, his grin turning wolfish. "That's the idea." He leaned forward in his chair, eyes following the gem's slow swaying. "I am certain I can get her to take it off at some point, you know. I am very persuasive when needed be."

"Don't you start already with that!" Vicente snapped, deciding to test the amulet's integrity. It would not be unlike his Brother to tamper with it, after all. "Try to behave yourself. She is not a toy for you to play with. Attempt to be respectful." He gave the chain a few more experimental tugs, being watched with amusement all the while. "By the way, we have a new problem in regards to our mission...please, wherever this quest leads you, avoid Anvil. Do not take her there. I have some rather unpleasant news."

"Oh?"

"Oh yes." Vicente looked grim. "Do you recall a contract along the Gold Coast several years back? It took place in Anvil...Does the name Tertia Biencourt ring any bells?"

"Tertia Biencourt," The Speaker announced, sampling the name as he scratched his chin in thought. "Tertia Biencourt...Ah, yes! She had red curly hair, it turned out to be most useful, provided me with a good grip on her. Why do you ask?"

Vicente cringed and held the look. "I'm afraid Tertia is - was the mother of Abigale Lynn."

The vampire had hoped that this information would perhaps dissuade his Brother slightly. Unfortunately, the Speaker was not a man to back down from a 'challenge', regardless of the many obstacles. He only laughed in disbelief. "Really? What an interesting turn of events. Of course, we do not want little Abigale to find that out. It would not grant me any favors with her, that is certain." His amusement was still plain on his features long after his laughter died. "Fear not, Brother. I shall avoid Anvil to the best of my ability. I will not bring her there unless I deem it an absolute necessity." He again smirked, standing from his chair. "We don't want her to think I am a monster now, do we?"

"Perish the thought," Vicente grumbled, rolling his eyes. "Well, the Count is afraid that if he waits on this decision he'll change his mind and keep her. So, we are all leaving tonight. Get yourself ready."

With a whimsical sigh, the younger assassin flopped down on the bed, book reopened in his lap. "Born ready, Vicente. Don't worry, when the sun sets we'll be off." He looked down at his bookmark - a now faded letter, his smile turning lecherous. "Not for a day, not for an hour, not for a second... We shall see about that."

xxxx

I stared at the bowl of food before me, hunger absent. My mouth was dry and my stomach gave an unpleasant quake at the smell of my meal. I could not decipher the creamy looking stew but it smelt heavily of onions. The overly rich foods were becoming nauseating. Presently, neither my stomach or senses could handle them. I pushed around the potatoes in the bowl, shifting the substance, hoping to give the illusion of having eaten something.

"Lady Abbey Lynn," Tualga chided, startling me into dropping my spoon. "Ya can't not eat, you know. You'll be needing your strength for your journey!" She walked before me and eyed the bowl meaningfully. "What's wrong with this now?"

I sighed and tried to calm myself. Despite having been back on 'good terms' with the Count, I was still all jitters and jumps. I had been ashamedly happy earlier when the Stewardess had knocked on his bedchamber door and cut our conversation short. I think he had wanted to try and lie with me. I certainly was not ready for it, no matter how sweet he was striving to be. I found the thought of being beneath him unsettling.

The Count had told the Stewardess of my trip but not of his demands thereafter. I did not have the will to tell her either but I wanted to. Foolishly, I thought the Stewardess could somehow talk the Count out of such ridiculous things. She was as logical as the Count was clever. If anyone could hope to change his mind it was her...or Vicente. However, I was unsure how Vicente - a vampire, would take my hesitation over becoming 'kin' to him and marrying his friend. Truthfully, I doubted telling either of them and so I stayed quiet.

"Tualga, leave her be. She's had a long night. Probably can't stomach that slop." The Stewardess grunted, looking exhausted. "I highly doubt her chaperones will starve her. The Count certainly wouldn't like that."

The Stewardess never told Tualga about what occurred last night. I was grateful for that, I wanted no more pity. Apparently, the little bell in the Maids Quarters was ruined by the Count's violence. The Stewardess had told Tualga that the Count and I argued and he accidentally broke the bell when trying to summon someone. It was not far from the truth, I supposed. We did indeed argue. It was also not unlike the Count to break things in a fit either...I just did not want to be one of those things.

I was terrified at the prospect of leaving, more so at the idea of staying. The mere thought of being away from the Count filled me with anxiety. I was safe with him...but was I safe from him? All was so uncertain and I felt compelled to go, even if for only a short while.

I stood from my chair, unable to remain still any longer and began to poke around the now familiar space. I tried to seem light and happy. I did not want all to know how worried I truly was. "I-It certainly will be strange." I nearly babbled, toying with a pretty cream runner on the very undesirable dresser. "The Count is so kind to let me go."

The Stewardess snorted in the corner while Tualga only smiled. "Aye, he certainly is. He must really trust you, Lynn. Feels very tenderly for you, apparently." She laughed and I forced a very twitchy and awkward smile. "I never would 'ave guessed he'd let you go anywhere if I'm being honest! Last night when that bell broke I feared the worst! "

"H-he is stressed and I get underfoot. It's so very hard to do all he does while being...being what he is."

"You mean a spoilt bloodthirsty child in a man's body?" The Stewardess said with painful loudness. Tualga frowned at the seemingly offhanded comment. I froze and eyed her then the door. The Stewardess too turned lazily toward it. "Hmph. Well when you are gone, he's getting an earful."

"Please don't..." I muttered, carefully seating myself on the bed. I looked at the ornate clock and twiddled my hands nervously. The hour was growing late and we were leaving at sunset. I was still unbelieving. A satchel lay on the floor filled with supplies for me. Soon I would have to change into more appropriate clothing for riding... I watched on quietly as some minutes ticked by. Finally, I stood, feeling appallingly apprehensive. "I need to change."

XXXX

The Count listened as the Stewardess and his Housekeeper said their goodbyes to Abigale Lynn. They left the manor shortly after and the Count waited impatiently in his bedchamber. He knew Abigale Lynn needed privacy but he did not want to be away from her. He was trying to give her space...for her sake. Janus was afraid that if he spent too much time around her he would regret his decision and change his mind.

The Count knew well how very long and lonely the upcoming weeks were sure to be. During that time, he needed to focus on his love for Skingrad. There was much to do for his city. Although his duties as ruler had not been neglected by any means, he worried that perhaps he had become lackadaisical in his approach. The last week alone had been taxing. He would not succumb to laziness in any measure in regards to Skingrad. He was the Count and that came before all else...but there were plenty of other issues that needed his immediate attention.

Rona Hassildor. Just hearing his wife's name in his mind was painful. So many emotions and hurt were linked to her and he was tired of the pain. He did not realize how much he had grown to resent his wife until she posed yet another hindrance in his happiness. He felt weak and guilty when confronted with this bitterness. Knowing that after so many years he had to finally get his wife's affairs in order was jarring. Janus still felt conflicted over her upcoming end...it was what she wanted but for years he had avoided the idea. It was not the healthy thing to do, of course, but it was what he had done to cope.

Now the repercussions of his cowardly actions were haunting his every move. He had to relive over fifty years of repressed sadness and pain in several weeks. Janus knew the decompression was sure to have its ugly moments. It was best that Abigale Lynn was not present for them. No, it was not her responsibility to assist him in this. Even if she did want to stay, she would regret it, as would he. Janus knew his temperament. He handled emotional stress poorly. If he could not ignore it, it only angered him. Non-tangible things should not hurt - but they did, and the sting was greater than any physical wound he knew.

The Count very much wanted to be with his Abigale Lynn but knew she did not want him near. He could not blame her. He admittedly stole some kisses and tenderness from her, fearing she would give him nothing and leave. It pained him to feel how she stiffened at his touch now. He had only wanted to kiss her and hold her for a moment, to drink her in before she left but Abigale Lynn made her distaste plain. She feared he would force her to do more but it was not his intent, he only wanted compassion.

Janus frowned at the clock. It was almost time for his love to go and he was not pleased by this. However, he implemented his impressive powers of repression and reasoned with himself. She would not be gone forever. She would return. She would be carefully watched. The Brotherhood was acting as an extension of his hand. They would protect his Abigale Lynn and keep her safe. They would also ensure her return...

Janus sighed and on cue, the clock began to chime. He too had to say goodbye. For now.

xxxx

I eyed myself in the mirror feeling very self-conscious. I did not look right, all seemed out of place and strange as I eyed my legwear nervously. The last time I had worn pants had been well over half a year ago now. Seeing myself in them felt...odd. Perhaps even lewd.

The material was soft and thick but hugged my body too well. Months ago I had been emaciated and could hardly keep my leathers on. Now, wearing simple pants, I felt on display. My curves were prominent and left me anxious. No tunics I had hung low enough to suit my tastes and I could not forsake pants. Riding at night in the early spring in a dress was foolish.

Chewing my lip, I again rummaged through the supplies I was given and was quick to pull out a thin blue and green dress. It was wonderfully simple and concealing. I removed the tunic I was wearing and donned the light gown. The pants were worn and I was hidden, feeling much more comfortable and normal. I laid out a thick cloak and eyed the Skingrad coat of arms fastener. This was not purchased for me but was another gift from the Count. One of his cloaks that he had let me wear. I toyed with the clasp and cloth, again feeling nauseous. I needed to leave but was greatly afraid to. I tried not to think about it. Truthfully, I tried not to think of anything.

I was to go to Cheydinal. There I would have sanctuary and be given a room to reside in. Shortly after I was to 'assist' in the Count's quest, although I was still very clueless as to what I could do to help.

The Count knocked on the door and I was quick to let him in. He eyed me curiously as he entered, appearing equally apprehensive. "How do you feel?" He asked, coming closer.

I decided to answer him truthfully, seeing no need to lie. "I am afraid."

The Count nodded and gently placed his hands on my hips. "I know you are. It will pass." I watched him frown in thought as he squeezed me a little tighter. "You are so small...Cyrodiil is so big. I worry for you. I...I do not know if this is the best course of action to take. Why can we not simply -" But then the Count stopped speaking and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I am afraid that I will talk myself out of letting you go."

I swallowed hard and only stared. That small, fearful part of me half hoped that he would, regardless of the danger and shame I would be put through. I knew better than to speak with my current fears and instead carefully inched closer to him. His arms wrapped around me, one hand cupping the back of my head. I ran my fingers through the fur lining of his overcoat. I realized then that I did not want to leave or stay. It was confusing.

"I am angry that you want to go. I'm hurt that you are willing to leave me alone here. But I know I've done you wrong. This is all my doing. I can be angry at no one but myself. Still..." He pulled me away from him slightly, searching my face. "This is more painful for me than you realize. I shall not go into detail on it. I will, however, give you fair warning...in your travels, do not forget yourself. You are still mine and you will be coming back to me. I am only letting you go as a gesture of my affection. I need not let you go anywhere, Abigale Lynn. I do not mean to be cruel, this is simply fact. As I have said, I relinquish nothing. You are still bound to me and when you return we shall solidify that bond more. Do not forget this kindness as I am not known for being so considerate."

"You are kind to me," I said honestly, thinking of the many times he had been generous and sweet. I hoped to stop his possessive speech - his possessive ways but knew better than to try too hard. I greatly missed the Count who held my hand and tried to make me smile. I wondered if he would ever return to me. "I-I will miss you every day," I admitted, afraid to reach out and touch him as I had once done so often. "I miss you now."

His hand touched my face, long fingers entangling in my hair as he bent down to kiss me. I welcomed him but could not keep from feeling frightened. So much had happened that I did not know if I could ever stop from fearing him. I hoped our time apart would help. "I do love you, Abigale Lynn." He said huskily. He continued his passion then and I tried to find comfort in his cold touch, thinking all the while of how strange it would be without him always near. I wondered with morbid curiosity if I would function properly without his constant command. I was not attentive to my person, the Count took care of me, albeit roughly at times.

"You will return to me or else I promise nothing." He said suddenly, again breaking the kiss, his gaze disturbingly intense. "If you think it wise to run, even for a moment, know I will give chase." I swallowed hard and nodded. I did not want the Count to ever chase me again. If I could help it I would not give him cause to.

I wanted to answer him and reassure his mind. I wanted to tell him that I had no intentions of running but I could not speak. Of course, I did not want to leave the Count and if things were different I would be going nowhere. However, staring up into his face and his fearfully serious expression, I was rendered silent. I did not want to speak out of fear of lying, for in that moment, I myself was unsure what I would do if given the opportunity.

In an effort to stop the silence from stretching, I gave an answer both vague yet pertaining to his warning. "You will not need to." I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him, hoping to mask my evasive statement. It did not work as well as I had hoped as his usual enthusiasm was absent.

"I do not think you have initiated intimacy in days. I find it worrying that you choose to now." The Count observed darkly, still holding me close. "I think I know your ways well. Either you wish to hide behind what I crave or this is genuine. It pains me that I am uncertain."

I swallowed hard but held him tighter. "It's genuine." And it was. I genuinely did want to feel him and I also genuinely wanted to mask my uncertainty.

Thankfully, this pleased him as he was quick to embrace me again. I let my mind go blank as he placed his mouth on mine once more, feeling exhausted from all my feelings and our trying wordplay. I tried to find joy in his touch but something kept me distant. I simply closed my eyes and held him.

Suddenly, there was a loud knocking on the door, followed by an impatient sounding Vicente. "Janus, you are making us run late. She's not heading off to battle, for Sithis' sake." The Count growled and pulled away from me. I was quick to grab my satchel from the floor as he allowed Vicente to enter the chamber.

"I can take as long as I like." The Count said angrily as he pulled the cloak from my bed. "If I wish to delay you I will."

Vicente shot him a curious look, a fanged smile slowly forming. "Indeed you may. But the quicker she goes the quicker her return. Food for thought."

The Count grunted and carefully draped the cloak over my shoulders. He stood before me and adjusted the clasp. His eyes were sad. He took his time straightening and fussing with the fabric. Lingering...I felt sad for leaving him. I felt wrong but I was too afraid to stay. I was still before him and yet I felt the pain of longing. In my own haze of confusion, I found myself kissing him again. This time out of a physical need for his touch.

It was odd but my passion was not forced. The Count was terrifying and had hurt me but in that moment I could not deny my feelings. I desperately hoped that with my return he would be as he once was. That we would both be as we once were. I felt our happiness was too fleeting but the Count was determined to recover it. It was why he was permitting me to leave. He was trying to right his wrongs. I had to give him a chance to do so...but how much could really be done?

Vicente's abrupt cough seemed to pull us both back to the present. I went to pull away from the Count, embarrassed for making a spectacle of myself, but the Count did not let me leave him. "Janus, we really must be off," Vicente said, sounding almost irritated. "The sun has set. We are falling behind." The Count only glared at Vicente from over his shoulder. "I think it would be best if you let her go here and now. I'm afraid if we wait any longer you will not release her at all." He took a step forward and held his hand out to me.

With extreme hesitance, the Count loosened his grip and let me walk to Vicente. I took his arm, watching the Count and awaiting his approval but he said nothing. He only watched us heatedly as we quickly left the room, eventually winding down the corridor to the Count's private entrance.

The farther we moved from the Count, the more terrified I felt. "T-this is a mistake," I whispered, faltering in my step. "I should not go. Master Vicente, I-"

"Your judgment is altered by fear. All will be well. This is for the best...I promise." He placed his hand over mine and moved us at a brisk pace. "After all I heard last night I am certain that we are taking the right course of action. You both need time apart. He has much to settle in himself before he is ready to accept another." I felt ill as we left the throne room and went down the small flight of stone steps leading to the exit. "You will be alright." Vicente opened the door and I was quickly greeted by the chilly night air.

xxxx

I moved mindlessly across the large Skingrad bridge. The ever burning stone torches along its length cast eerie shadows, the great arch and gate had the appearance of a fanged gaping maw. The large banners of the County crest had the look of eyes, watching me, both sad, angry and bleeding. I clung to Vicente, again questioning everything. Soon we walked beneath it and I felt swallowed as my feet hit the soil and grass of the hillside.

In a small cluster of trees, I saw Nerah Vlando, saddled atop a bay horse. She held the reigns of another brown stallion and made her way to us. "He's ready to go, Vicente. Been getting a bit impatient."

Vicente smiled and took the reigns of his mount. He turned to me, looking empathetic. "You will be alright, Miss Abigale Lynn. I'm leaving you in very capable hands." I swallowed hard and nodded, still feeling extremely off and hesitant. I only watched Vicente mutely as he took my hands and planted a gentle kiss on each. "Do you remember what I said to you yesterday? Please, do not panic. You will be alright. You are safe. I cannot stress this enough." He looked uncomfortable as he dropped my hands. He took the pack from my shoulder and passed it to Nerah, who quickly secured it to her saddle.

With cat-like agility, Vicente mounted his horse and righted himself. "This is for the best. I cannot risk your safety. Janus needs time to heal." He smiled at me again, this time the grin looked odd and sad. "You may hate me if you like but I foolishly hope that you won't." I was only half listening, staring off into the woods, hugging myself and feeling wrong. He soon realized this and sighed. "I hope to see you in Cheydinhal...I am deeply sorry for your discomfiture. Farewell."

I blinked and looked up at him, confused by what I thought I had heard but he was already trotting away.

I chewed my lip and wrung my hands, looking nervously out at the Count's large Castle. "So...ah, Lady Abigale...you, erm...ready to go?" Nerah Vlando scratched the back of her neck, her red gaze shifting about the forest. I nodded, not wanting to verbally answer. "Good! Yeah, that's...good. But um, you need this before we go." She reached into a small pocket on the thigh of her leathers and removed a pretty golden amulet. It swayed in the moonlight, winking curiously at me.

"W-why do I-"

"Protection." She said fast before I could even pose my question. "You see, this is how you remain untouchable - dammit! I mean! Ugh...we of the Brotherhood know you are under our protection when you wear this. You will be regarded as extended Family." She held it out to me. "I implore you to wear it. But it's not really optional. It was Vicente's only stipulation. If you don't wear it we can't help you."

I did as told and took the amulet, feeling odd for accepting jewelry from someone other than the Count...although I was not very comfortable even when he did so.

The necklace was pretty, made of gold and black. It felt oddly heavy in my hands. Still, with a tired sigh, I went to fasten it around my neck only to stop when I was nudged roughly from behind. The visage made me jump, then nearly gasp as I met the red gaze of a large black horse. I stumbled but stared fixedly in confusion.

"Stupid thing...Shadowmere! Go away! Can't you be patient? Sweet Matron, help me." Nerah glanced around the forest and pulled up her hood. "Keep your distance from her. Mean thing bites. Bites hard. Evil Horse."

I recovered fairly quickly, finding the scarlet gaze strangely comforting. Still, I did as told and took a step back, again trying to put on the amulet.

"Your Brother's horse bites you?" I asked nervously, finally clasping the chain around my throat. No sooner had it settled there did I feel off. Like something was different - gone. A certain unnameable feeling had vanished. I felt almost empty. The sudden missing sensation left me dizzy. Then all strangeness had gone like it never was and I again felt like myself.

"Bites everyone but my Brother." She grunted, then watched on in confusion and terror as the mare began to nudge my arm again. Feeling forced, I placed my hand tentatively on its head, unsure of how to proceed and being mindful of my fingers. "Unbelievable!" Nerah exclaimed, then swore. "Of course she would like you! That's disturbingly creepy."

"She is rather forceful with her affection," I admitted awkwardly, getting a disgruntled grunting and ear twitch whenever I went to move away.

"Oddly fitting." Nerah quipped, again tugging down her hood. I was surprised then when the large black horse trotted a small ways away from us both. I felt embarrassingly relieved. "Listen," Nerah said softly, watching the mare. "I, uh, I'm...You seem nice. I do like you. I really didn't want anything to do with this. Orders. I, erm...sorry." She pulled her hood far, far down over her face and looked away. "Just don't take that necklace off. You'll be alright."

I did not understand but her words had me afraid. Why was she apologizing to me? Why did Vicente? I swallowed hard as I was suddenly alerted to the sound of low whistling. An oddly dark, taunting tune, coming closer. A strange chill ran up my spine as the melody was coupled by the sound of very close footsteps, then followed by a low sinister chuckle. All so horribly familiar... I looked to Nerah in desperation but she refused to meet my gaze. Vicente's warning and apologies all finally made sense. In my sorrow and fear towards the Count, I overlooked so much... I was foolish. I was careless. No, I was stupid.

"My dear lady, so glad you could join us." My mind was assaulted with a barrage of images, a torrent of overwhelming fear and disgust. A charming and persistent man at a bakery. An attacker in the dead of night. A specter who stole a kiss with a want for more. A murderer who made a gift of a kill. Written perversions of an absolute madman and violator of my dreams. "Although you are a bit late...I suspect that was your Count's doing and so I shall overlook it."

Run. My mind screamed. Just run. But I could not move. Whether frozen from fear or shock I did not know but I was rendered motionless and could only stare ahead, my eyes begging the world for an escape. I looked up to the Castle, wondering if I should go to it. "Now we mustn't be rude, Abigale. Is this really how you wish to greet your great protector?" He walked in front of me then, shrouded and robed in all black, a living shadow with a wicked smirk. I still only stared, dumbfounded and aghast as Lucien Lachance met my gaze. "I greatly missed your pretty face. You are so incredibly expressive. It is highly entertaining." He touched my cheek with his gloved hand, effectively startling me out of my stupor.

"N-no!" I swatted him away, again glancing up to the Castle, fingers flexing nervously.

He followed my line of vision. "Oh, are you waiting for your dearest Count to again whisk you away? Poor thing, that will not occur this time." He feigned a pout, which quickly broke, as he was far too pleased with his apparent cunning. He moved forward to me quickly and plucked the gem from my chest, the act making me jump, the chain pulling me closer to him. I swallowed hard, he was too close. His black eyes and handsome smile were all too real despite it feeling like a nightmare. Instinctively, I began to pull away, my movements slow and sluggish from confusion. He remained remarkably undeterred. "You see, this amulet is imbued with many magical properties. Mostly, they are for your benefit. They make aware all members of the Dark Brotherhood to your presence. It is how we better protect you. However, there is a hiccup or two...as in it severs magical influences." His grin broadened, he leaned it. "Your ties to Hassildor are no more. So long as your wear this necklace, he will not be coming to your aid...Pity."

He took a small step from me then, allowing the amulet to fall back to my chest. I grabbed it roughly, every intent of pulling it off.

"Don't do that!" Nerah suddenly squeaked, earning a very dangerous glare from her Master. My eyes darted between the two. I was disgusted and betrayed. I thought of Vicente, architect of this journey and sneered.

Lucien Lachance's dangerous look fell quickly and he smoothly recovered, his grin returning. "Ah yes, it seems I forgot to mention a few more minor details about that trinket. Thank you, Miss Vlando. Our dear Brother Vicente seems to be under the impression that I would do you harm..." His smile turned vicious, I had to suppress a tremble. "He cares for you so. He went through great pains to have me swear an oath. But swear it I did. So, as long as you wear that symbol I cannot 'harm' you. Unless of course, you disobey me, you are a danger to yourself, try to hurt, maim, expose or steal from the Brotherhood - so on and so forth." He toyed with the suddenly very apparent hilt of his sword. I took a step back, again getting nudged forward by the black mare. The creature seemed to appear from shadows. "Simply behave and all will be well. We will have a wonderful time!"

I looked again to the Castle feeling bitter, feeling resentment, feeling fear...and knowing that the Count had no idea that I was feeling any of these things. It nearly put me into hysterics, I felt maddened. I tried not to give my obvious inner turmoil away any more than I already had. I forced myself to speak, looking at the dirt beneath my shoes with a narrowed gaze. "So t-this was all some demented ploy? Y-you get me alone...will you kill me now?"

"Hmm, you don't listen well. Is this why you and your Count have had a falling out? I can understand, it does get frustrating." My look turned into a glare and fixed on Lachance. He walked even closer to me, standing by my side. Our proximity caused me to fumble slightly. He took the reigns of the black mare, enjoying my obvious disdain. "Nothing more irritating than a girl who does not listen and refuses to sleep with you. Two great evils." At this I gaped, staring mortified at the horribly well-informed madman. He easily read my look and merrily pulled another false expression. He sucked in a breath through his teeth, poorly pretending to be sympathetic. "Yes, I know so much. Vicente and I are very close. He is my Brother, after all, and he does so enjoy his gossip. But in Vicente's defense, I am fairly certain all of Skingrad knows. Quite the temper on that Count of yours, so bound and determined to have his way."

My face burned, my chest ached, I looked off to the woods. I thought of all the things I had confided in Vicente. Knowing that my confessions were passed along to Lucien Lachance shamed me. My eyes stung, I wanted to cry but refused to give him the satisfaction. I bit my lip to hide its quiver. He no doubt knew everything. Every painful and embarrassing truth...

"There, there. You will soon find how very compassionate and understanding I can be to your pain. I will make it all better." I glared off at nothing. My heart beating loudly in my chest. Could I go back to the Castle? Would I make it if I broke into a run? What would become of me then? What would become of the Count? He would be displeased and so very angry. He would never forgive Vicente and I had tried so hard to keep from sullying one of the Count's only friendships...Why did Vicente do this? Were his motives ever genuine? What did he gain from this? Would no harm truly come to me if I simply obeyed? How was this different from the Castle? I loathed Lachance. This was so much worse. What could I do?

"Erm, Speaker? I think you're going to give her a heart attack... It's beating far too fast to be healthy."

"Really now?" He looked me over, suddenly grabbing my face. He stared me down and turned my head to the side. I thought of the Count again and of Vicente as this madman examined me. Both vampires were quick to grab me and both were very strong. Lucien Lachance was mortal but his grip on my jaw was more painful than the touch of either vampire...I wondered if it was my imagination. I did not doubt it. "Now that you mention it, she looks a touch more pallid than I remember. We'd best be off." He let me go and motioned to the black horse. "Now, normally I'd situate you in the back. However, you look as though you would pitch yourself from Shadowmere at the first opportunity. You shall sit in front. Should make for a cozy ride."

"I will go nowhere with you," I said in a bitter whisper, massaging my cheek, blinking back more angry tears.

"No? I think otherwise." He made some adjustments to the saddle, lovingly touching the mare all the while. "We really must work on your listening skills. I believe I told you that if you disobeyed, my oath is null and void. So, lest you want me to drag you into those bushes, you'll get on the horse without another complaint." I froze. Was it that easy for him? Did all it take was a refusal so small? My feet would not move. I could not willingly go to him. "Tick tock." He taunted, sounding far too calm and entertained. Torture was his element, I was not very surprised. He turned and smiled at me then, taking on the tone one would use for an ignorant child - chiding and almost motherly. "Shall we test the softness of Skingrad's grass?" I grudgingly walked forward, my actions heavy and awful. "A wise choice...yet regrettable for me."

He assisted me in mounting his horse, despite his aid not being required. I sat upon the saddle awkwardly as he soon settled far too close behind me. Our bodies touching made me want to retch. I scowled. His arms went around me, holding the reigns firmly. He leaned in close to my ear and I could hear the malicious smile in his voice as he whispered. "Say goodbye to Skingrad, my dear."

"Is that a command?" I asked in defeat, my question earning a small chuckle.

"No, rather a suggestion. Purely optional." I said nothing, not daring to look back at Castle Skingrad anymore. My body tensed as the mare began to move, slowly making it's way down the hill, farther and farther away from the Count. I chewed my lip in thought. I was ungrateful as the Count had once said. He did not beat me, why did I leave him? It was not so awful. Why did I want to go? Why did I feel compelled?

Lucien Lachance could not see me, so I let some frustrated tears fall. I sniffled quietly but my self-pity quickly vanished and was turned again into repulsion as the 'Speaker' put his chin on my shoulder. "I've been meaning to ask...Did you like my letters? I am still quite proud of that poem."

Author's Notes: THIS CHAPTER WAS STUPIDLY LONG. I knew I could seriously spend another 6 chapters on Abigale and the Count's parting buuuuut it would have gotten boring. I felt it had run its course as the previous chapters leading up to this one were its foundation.

But yes! Here we are! Now, as you've read in older chapters, I have a slightly different take on our favorite Speaker. I've read stories where Lucien's character is a hero, a sadistic horrible pooh-head, dang rapist, fluffy romantic and much, much more. My approach is different (or I'm trying to be different). In game, we really don't know too much about Lucien's personality. We know some...he is a touch (hehe) sadistic, highly religious, 'some' violent tendencies, is serious on certain topics but also is kind of lightly mannered in his approach to others. With all that in mind, I'm 'creating' him the same way I 'created' Janus...you get it. So yeah, my version of Lucien...you definitely won't see the strong silent Lachance here...far too chatty in game...Especially Skyrim XD We gonna give tribute to the title Speaker! 8D

AND. Castle Skingrad is in no way out of this story. I got a lot planned in the way of flashbacks and stuffs. We'll still see meaniehassleweenie and our Stewardess~