Author's Notes: This chapter was so long...like really long. Ugh. XD There's a lot of info in this update and I know for a fact that there are some major errors too. I was again playing Oblivion to remember certain areas and stuffs, when I noticed the dang signs in Cheydinhal do not 'swing' when you touch them (Or when you smack your character's head into them)... I *think* I went back and fixed that...but I honestly do not remember 8D! Sorry in advance! I'll go back, as I have been. I am also trying to convey emotional confusion in some already confused characters...tough but a fun exercise, nonetheless.

Love or Blood

Chapter Fifty-four: Sanctuary

xxxx

I had again redressed with the assassin, was newly blindfolded and forced to ride without sight once more. This time I agreed to sit behind him, which made my lack of vision surprisingly more tolerable, as I had something to cling to as we moved. When he permitted me to remove the sash, I was pleasantly surprised to find that we were right outside of Cheydinhal's gates. We dismounted before the stables but Lucien Lachance did not steer Shadowmere inside. Instead, he took our two packs from her back, whispered soothingly to the mare and then walked away. I watched curiously as she turned and galloped off into the forest.

"She will go home," Lachance commented as he too watched Shadowmere vanish into the wood. "Or she will find some helpless animal to torment. Either way, she will be fine." He patted my head in passing, flashing me a cheeky smile. "You need not worry about her. Worry about yourself, Little Countess. Cheydinhal is full of surprises."

"Surprises of the untimely nature?" I dared question, eyeing him as curiously as I had the mare. "If that is what awaits me than I am reluctant to venture forth." Lucien only tutted and placed his hand upon my back, forcing me forward. I picked up my pace while shooting him a glare. The assassin, again out of shadows and robes, was easier to speak to. After all that had transpired the night before I felt differently around the man. I did not trust him, of course, but I believed him now when he said he would not harm me unless needed be. He had been given the opportunity to do whatever he wished. I had been trapped in his home with no protection and he did nothing. I had felt like meat on a shiny platter and the assassin did nothing. I could not say the same for others I knew.

"Hmm, what are you thinking?" Lucien inquired randomly, looking perturbed as we walked. "I deeply pity whoever just crossed your thoughts. If looks could kill...well, I would be out of business by that glare. Care to tell?" I only shook my head and nervously rubbed my shoulder. The assassin sighed and offered his arm to me, poorly hiding his amusement. "My dear lady, your expressions are more captivating than a sunrise. You could tell a story with your eyes alone." I accepted his arm but only gave a little sound in response to his comment. I was in no mood for the odd bit of flattery, though it did not sound like a compliment, more as a random observation.

The city gate soon opened for us and I braced myself to feel overwhelmed by eyes and people. However, as we entered Cheydinhal, I found myself speechless by the quiet beauty of the place. The buildings were made of white or gray stone and dark timber. Much greenery was seen even throughout the center of town and large pines climbed higher than the roofs. The terrain and cobblestone were vastly uneven, creating little mounds and dips on the roads. Grass grew through the cracks in our path but all only added to the charm. The town was pleasantly green and lush. In the distance, I could see a large chapel. Beyond that were the peaks of the Valus Mountains.

I inhaled the crisp air and smiled. The sun promised for a warmer day and the previous evening's rain had melted the majority of the snow. "It is lovely here," I said with a small smile, turning slightly to look around at all as we walked. My mood altered dramatically at the city. It was nothing at all as I had expected. Stories of Cheydinal often spoke of thugs but I saw nothing of the sort.

"It is lovely." Lachance agreed with a nod, glaring off at a small woman who rounded the corner before us. "And that is the greatest surprise. Looks are deceiving." We walked passed the little blonde Breton who quite literally stopped to stare at us both, fumbling and dropping some of the goods she held. The woman continued to gape as we passed her by, earning a rather large and mildly threatening grin from Lachance. It was a very frightening thing to witness.

"Yes..." I said uncertainly, watching as the assassin promptly righted himself. He led us on with his usual gait, whistling quickly starting up. As we walked, I half wondered who the pretty woman was and why she had gaped so. I also wondered why Lucien looked as though he had a mind to eat her... I quickly decided that it was better if I did not know. "Y-you are a prime example of that."

"A prime example," He repeated, a little oily smirk quickly taking shape, his jovial tune long forgotten. "Does that mean you think me handsome?" I did not hesitate to nod at him, thinking his obvious prideful display over my admission foolish. There was no need to deny or hide such a thing. I did not think it was prudent to keep my likes for the assassin's appearance quiet. He was a handsome man, lying and saying he was not would serve me no purpose. On the contrary, he already knew that I found him attractive, attempting to deny it would only make him suspicious or determined. He would try to change my mind, no doubt. "May I ask what it is about me that you like?"

I held back the urge to roll my eyes and instead regarded him with as much disinterest as I could muster. Unfortunately, when it came to Lachance's appearance, I found there was much I could comment on. However, I did not want to stroke his overly large ego any more than I already had. I also found it amusing how quickly the deceiving aspect of the observation had vanished. Apparently, the man was very vain, although that I had long ago gathered. "You have a nice smile, despite it being disingenuine and abused."

Said smile faltered for a moment, his brows knitting together. "How is my smile abused?"

I could only shake my head, partly surprised and partly delighted by his poorly hidden bewilderment. Lucien Lachance did not emote much more than his usual smirk and 'charming' disposition. The slight furrowing of his brow and waver of his grin spoke volumes to me. "You smile too much." I easily observed, unsure why I secretly enjoyed his little puzzlement as much as I did.

The assassin laughed, the sound disbelieving and amused. "This coming from you? I suppose I should not be surprised. You, Little Countess, do not show happiness at all. Your impassivity is certainly befitting of royalty." He eventually slowed us until we came to a stop before a small store around another corner. I eyed the surrounding area as he spoke. "I suppose it is a useful quality for a bitter Countess. Find joy and pleasure out in the world while you are still able. Although I truly question if anything pleases you. As a matter of fact, I do not think I've seen you smile yet." Lachance released me from his grip so that I could have a better look around. He poked the sign above him, watching me with interest, almost as though he was expecting something of me. "The store is not yet open. What shall we do in our spare time?" I gave a small shrug and held my cloak around myself tightly. Without him so close all quickly became cold. "What causes emotion in you, my dear? What can I do to witness a genuine reaction?"

"You do much already," I said, standoffishly, watching as Lachance so very casually leaned against the wall of the shop. "I feel as though you have elicited more than enough of my emotions...Unless you speak of a particular response that I have yet to show?" I questioned carefully, still ever mindful to keep the assassin amused with talk. In truth, it was not so taxing. So long as he did not turn the conversation particularly dark or sexual, I found myself managing.

Lucien too casually adjusted his cloak, feeling the chill as well. He then cocked his head to the side, beckoning me to come closer. The idea of his warmth was welcoming but I decided to keep my distance. I was not entirely sure why I did not move to him. "I have seen you upset or flustered. I think I deserve a few more expressions." My brows quickly rose by his words. I continued to watch him with my lips pursed, eventually shaking my head at the ever-grinning Lachance.

"You may think that you deserve more but it does not always mean it is so. My expressions are my own."

"If you do not willingly give them, know that I will make you." Lucien warned, his tone and expression smug. I could only turn my attention away from him with an irritated sigh. "What is it, Little Countess? Do you really doubt my abilities so?"

"I doubt nothing about you," I answered honestly, again trying to appear uninterested. I did not find his arrogance endearing by any means. I found it foolish for him to think so highly of himself. However, I knew not Lachance's life. All that I knew was that he did indeed do all he set out to. If his mind was upon an idea, he made sure it bore fruit. Perhaps he earned the right to be so confident. "I am certain that you will do all that you say. You have thus far."

"So you know it to be truth when I say I shall not disappoint you in bed?"

I inwardly groaned at how quickly the assassin could turn a normal conversation into an uncomfortable carnal circumstance. Mentally, I had just been praising Lucien for his steadfastness, he made me instantly regretted my musings. Flushing angrily, I made my irritation plain, allowing my tone to be sharper than my norm. "I know it to be a misguided fantasy from a depraved man." I all but snapped, avoiding his pulling stare as I watched the slowly swinging sign before me. "I may or may not fit this Dibellan stigma which you have bestowed upon me, but that does not mean that I shall crawl into your bed because you will it to be. You have no reason to view me as any more than what I am, and I know you are under the impression that my duties to Skingrad must mean I am a loose woman -" I shook my head, banishing the thoughts and my awful rambling with another sigh. "No. Just... please, give up the idea."

Lachance regarded me oddly with his lips pursed, dark eyes searching my face. "Well, your pitiful view of yourself certainly explains your repulsion to sex. I shall have you know that when I lie with you, which will occur, it will not be because I think you are a whore and feel entitled to do so. It will be because our want is mutual and that I desire you and like you."

I scoffed, finally daring to meet his gaze again. The assassin looked a tad annoyed but I was unsure as to why. "I am sure your words would work on many but I am not so easily swayed. I know what it is you want of me. I am a Dibellan, a pretty conquest and no more. You do not need to speak so falsely."

"You do think poorly of yourself and I." Lachance said with a mirthless smile and sharpened glare. He pried himself from the wall and made his way over to me, effectively staring me down. "Now, you are beautiful, your looks are without question. Yet your beauty is the very least intriguing part about you. There is much more to you that I like." Lucien's smirk turned genuinely mischievous once more. I tried to keep my expression indifferent as I watched him. Lachance reached into his pocket and procured my hair ribbon, then proceeded to dangle it above me. "Give yourself some credit, Little Countess. You are more than a pretty face and flesh. Take my honest word for it since you do not trust your own. You put stock in me, yes? You said so yourself earlier."

I eyed my silk hair tie and him with disdain. I crossed my arms at him, knowing he was awaiting my attempts to retrieve it. "So sleeping with you proves my worth? How very selfless." I held my hand out to him, finding his boyish game ridiculous. "Please give it back? I will not jump for it."

"No? Not even a small leap of faith, Little Countess?" He cooed, dipping the little bit of silk down before me and jerking it upwards. I remained unmoved, yet inwardly I found his childish game oddly a welcoming distraction from my woes. It was almost medicinal and I had to wonder if the distraction was intentional. He had mentioned that he would force my expressions. "Give it a try? Jump. I may let you win..." He continued, far too jovially. Despite the lightness he displayed, his actions were still somehow dark. It was odd but I still enjoyed it.

"You are a boy," I noted with a little disbelieving smile. The cold-blooded murderer turned into a twisted child at a schoolyard when given the opportunity. If I ignored his profession, his present nonsense was almost endearing. "If you are trying to make something symbolic out of your theft, you are failing miserably." Lachance grinned and gave a lock of my hair a quick tug with his free hand. I only shook my head at him, biting back my smile at his ridiculous behavior.

"I would always pull hair on a girl that I liked. The trait has followed me into adulthood. Jump."

"No."

"I greatly enjoy talking with you...and teasing you." Lucien stepped forward, looking remarkably cocky as he placed my ribbon between his lips. The man harassed me like a boy and the deed was meant to be offensive and nasty, yet my little smile faded at the gesture. I swallowed hard and eyed him. As I watched the strand of silk sway from his mouth, the lightness I had been feeling a moment ago left me. In its place, I felt something very startling and seductive. Feeling compelled, I reached up and lightly pulled at my little hair ribbon, watching as he came closer with it. I searched his face, finding his features strangely satisfying. His expression was devious and surprised. I continued to pull him in, drawing him nearer and nearer until he was only little more than an inch from my nose. Lachance had come to me willingly and placed a hand by either side of the wall behind my head, crowding me in. The familiar circumstance should have frightened me...but I could not conjure any fear. It was alluring.

With an almost otherworldly drive, I reached up and placed my fingers to his chin, watching his ever black eyes fill with anticipation. The scratch of his facial hair was exciting to explore. He watched my lips and leaned in closer, I wetted them subconsciously, enjoying how his eyes darkened further by the action. Feeling his breath upon my face caused me to smile. I then gave my ribbon one final harsh tug. It slipped from his mouth but my fingers had kept him from following it and closing the gap between us. I took a peculiar glee in his confusion. I let my fingers slip from his chin and wrapped my ribbon around my hand before him, coolly flaunting the silk like a prize as I backed away from him as far as I was able. "I can tease too."

Lucien Lachance remained motionless before me. I watched with a smile as his throat dipped once he eventually swallowed. "It appears that you can."

XXXX

Vicente Valtieri entered the Cheydinhal Sanctuary quietly. The vampire slipped around pillars and stayed close to the shadows. He had hoped to go unnoticed, needing a moment to privately collect himself, regain his bearings and nurse his burns. However, such a thing was quickly made impossible. Stealthy as he was, he was still very easily discovered. As he made his way down a small flight of stone steps to his chamber, one of his Siblings spotted and called out to him.

"Dearest Brother! Welcome back! How did the contract fare?" Vicente instantly turned, brandishing his best false smile at his Sister Ocheeva, who had poked her head out of her room at precisely the right time to catch the vampire.

"All went remarkably well. So much so that I was able to walk about in the sunshine. Quite lovely for the first five minutes of dawn." He commented with his usual lightness, still grinning perhaps too widely as the Mistress of the Sanctuary approached.

"Indeed you do look well...aside from the little burns on your cheeks and nose." Ocheeva smiled. Soon after, she registered his words and pouted deeply. "Brother, it is nearly noon...How long were you in the sun?"

"Hours." Vicente's smile fell completely. He dragged a weary hand down his face as he abandoned his poor attempts to appear his usual self. "I tried to get here as quickly as I could, given the circumstances. Truthfully, I had hoped to be here sooner. I did all that I was able." He trailed off and sighed, unsure how to feel about walking through the sunshine so that he could apologize to his friend's woman. Vicente rubbed the back of his neck nervously at the thoughts and avoided his Sister's gaze. "Is she alright?"

His Sister gave a small shrug. "Well, she is under the impression that you want to kill her. Other than that, she is fine."

Hearing this so easily said from Ocheeva caused Vicente to startle. He blinked and straightened some, looking thoroughly bewildered. "Kill her? Why in Sithis' name would I want to kill her?" He quickly removed his cloak and dropped his belongings by his feet, shaking his head dismissively. "Never mind. I am not sure I want to know who put that idea into her head." Knowing that Abigale Lynn was afraid of him, nevermind angry with him, caused Vicente great anxiety. He did not want her to think his temper was as poor as the Count's. With this in mind, the vampire readied himself, it was time to face Abigale Lynn's hate and wrath with all the dignity, sincerity, and humility he could muster. "Where is she now? The sooner I apologize the better. I have been feeling awful enough about it all as it is."

Ocheeva pointed down the hall to Vicente's quarters, Abigale Lynn's location gave the vampire pause. "Nerah has confined herself to your room. If you wish to make amends, I'd go from there."

"No, no not Nerah," Vicente said with another dismissive shake of his head. "Abigale Lynn. Where is she?" Ocheeva's scaly brows rose, followed by a quick change of her expression. She suddenly became interested in her leathers, her face appearing impassive. Vicente did not understand the silence that followed but he felt himself growing steadily agitated by it. "Ocheeva?" He waited, foot beginning to tap impatiently on the stone floor. Vicente folded his arms across his chest, the Mistress of the Sanctuary mirroring him.

"The package has not yet arrived." The vampire froze, partly mortified, partly furious. "Neither has Speaker Lachance. There must have been a delay. I am sure all is well."

"But Nerah is here..." He quickly stated, fingers flying to his temples as reality set in. "Unbelievable! You mean to tell me that Nerah has arrived but Lucien is now thirty-six hours late?" Ocheeva nodded, ever calmly. Vicente could not stifle his outrage. "Do you have any idea what Janus Hassildor will do should any harm come to that girl? By Sithis...Nerah! Come out here!" Ocheeva's tail flicked in surprise as Nerah Vlando peeked around the corner opposite the stairs. "You heard all, I hope?" Vicente asked, his brows deeply furrowed. The Imperial gave a feeble nod. "Then I pray you realize how very disappointed I am in you, Sister. I entrusted you to monitor all while our Speaker sent me off. How could you so easily disregard my request?"

Nerah kicked at the floor, refusing to meet Vicente's gaze. "It was not like I could do much, Vicente. I had to run off at dawn anyway! Our Speaker said they would rest some and then be back on the road. He even promised to be here before me..."

"Lucien broke a promise? How very shocking." Vicente snapped with much-unneeded sarcasm.

"Eliminator," Ocheeva warned, quickly taking on an authoritarian stance. "I understand you are upset but do not presume to take that tone of voice in my presence when regarding our most honorable Speaker. Please, calm yourself. I am certain the girl is fine. You should not be so worried, she is in Lucien's capable hands."

"Wandering hands." Vicente corrected, giving Ocheeva a pointed stare. He took a moment to collect himself, sighing deeply before speaking again. "I do apologize to both of you but you must understand my fears. Our Speaker has very recently received disciplinary action over nearly breaking our alliance with Hassildor. Who is to say he would not do so again if tempted?"

"The Black Hand is the one who says he shall not, as they have entrusted the girl to our Speaker. What better way to learn self-restraint and atone for his behavior?" Ocheeva questioned, pleased by the silence that followed. "Brother, this trust does our Sanctuary a great honor. Do have a little more faith in our Speaker. He is a clever man."

"It is his cleverness that is worrisome." Vicente lamented, still sore over the entire ordeal. He worried greatly for Abigale Lynn, but the extent of his affection he could not let his Family know...

"Nerah! Nerah! I saw them! Speaker Lachance is in town!" All three heads perked up at the voice of another Sanctuary member, Antoinetta Marie. The little blonde Breton bolted down the stairs towards them, intending to encroach upon Nerah's privacy within Vicente's previously unoccupied chamber. She paused at the top of the steps upon seeing the little congregation in the dark. She faltered, cheeks and nose pink from just having run so quickly. "Hello Brother, Sister, Mistress." She said through small pauses as she caught her breath, her attention quickly settling on Nerah Vlando. "I suppose since Vicente is here, my news comes late. Sorry, Sister. I did run." She then turned to Vicente, her smile broad and bright. "Perhaps I can spare you some stress instead, Brother?"

Vicente nodded to Antoinetta. For once, her interruption would prove helpful..."Please, by all means. You said you saw them?"

"I certainly did!" She chirped, bounding down the steps towards the group. "Speaker Lachance is in town with that Skingrad girl. Oh, what is her name? Bah! Anyway, I nearly bumped into the two of them while shopping!" Antoinetta explained, looking intrigued and excited over her own discovery. "Speaker Lachance was not too pleased to see me. I'll admit I was shocked once I recognized him and may have dropped a thing or two... but he hardly paid me any mind. That little ginger seems to have his absolute attention. You would think they were lovers with how close they stand!" She gushed. Nerah shot Vicente a nervous glance, noting how her Master did not look pleased. "They have been meandering around town all day! She sure does have a sway to her walk, turns heads of all the men. And it is so odd to see our Speaker in normal clothes! In truth, it is a thing of beauty..."

The group lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. Nerah Vlando gave her Sister Ocheeva a small nudge, discreetly gesturing to the angry vampire before them. Although Vicente did not portray anger the way his Siblings did, his irritation was still plain. Vicente's jaw was locked tight, his gaze unfocused, lingering on stone. The Cheydinal Mistress found herself a tad disturbed. "Well...that is one mystery solved," Ocheeva said resolutely, turning to walk back up the steps to her chambers. "Lucien will come when ready. The girl is safe as long as she stays close to him. Do not be so upset, Brother. It does not sound like she is in distress." The Argonian disappeared into her room, leaving the remaining three assassins to their own devices.

"She is quite beautiful." Antoinetta Marie began cautiously, addressing Nerah. "But I do think that Lucien could do better. Why he wants a ginger is anyone's guess. I heard their tempers are awful. They all look so haunted too -"

"Gingers - as you so eloquently put it - have a certain spice to their blood," Vicente interjected, the sharpness of his tone causing both women to startle. "It is easy to see why they are so coveted. Personally, I have always found blondes to be a tad dull for my tastes. Perhaps our Speaker feels the same." Vicente stalked down the corridor leaving a blinking Antionetta and pouting Nerah in his wake.

"Uncalled for, Vicente." The Imperial chided, walking fast to catch up to her Master.

Vicente only waved his hand dismissively. "It does not matter, it went over her head." The elder vampire led the way down to his quarters, Nerah following suit. "She had better mind her mental density when Abigale Lynn arrives...whenever Lucien decides to grace us all with his presence." Vicente held the door open to his room for Nerah, finding that minding his manners with his present anger difficult. "I can only imagine what he is up to. I suppose the fact that Abigale Lynn is walking should comfort me." He trailed off in thought, mentally groaning at his own imaginations. "By Sithis, I am tempted to go back into town. I feel the need to assess her. I am afraid to find out but I must know the extent of the damage."

Nerah winced. "Brother, I don't think you'll be well received if you try to peek up her skirt."

"Sweet Matron, Nerah!" Vicente exclaimed, his burns feeling particularly warm at the mental imagery. "Please, watch your words! I was not speaking of literal physical damage. Lucien is a master mental manipulator. He is no doubt having a wonderful time playing with her mind." Vicente offered his Sister a chair before rummaging through his supply chest for nourishment. "I know he has an avid interest in her and I fear it may run deeper than a mere physical desire."

"Well, maybe. He mostly seems determined to sleep with her. Think's she'll be a 'blue-ribbon' worthy lay, as she is a... a Dibellan? Yeah, I think that's what he calls her, anyway." Vicente shook his head, taking the seat opposite of Nerah and began to nurse a half empty blood bottle, thoroughly agitated that his Sister had nearly drained his supplies. "He's told me before that he's not too pleased with her slavery. Never offered me a further explanation as to why. I would never have thought that Lucien would look down upon such a thing."

Vicente sipped his drink as he tried to quiet his temper. An image of a very dirty dark-eyed boy came to the forefront of his thoughts, causing him to frown and lose some of his anger. "He has his reasons."

"Well, I'm sure they are no doubt interesting and all but I'm not too sure they matter more than sleeping with her. In truth, I'm happy that they're finally together. I was getting sick of playing 'find the courier' for him." Vicente's brow quirked. His Sister looked stunned by her own words and quickly avoided her Brother's gaze.

"Find the courier?" The elder vampire repeated in question, noting Nerah's slowly shrinking posture. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, erm...a game?" She tried, fingers drumming anxiously on the table before them. Vicente remained unconvinced and fixed her with a look, his dread already manifest.

"Nerah,"

The young Imperial swore, ruby gaze flitting nervously about the room as she avoided her Master's stare. Finally, she gave in. "Ugh, they have been...promise to not get mad...? They have been writing letters."

xxxx

After visiting some shops, we walked around the city of Cheydinhal. It was very beautiful. The further we wandered the more I liked the little area. We passed the Mages Guild and walked to a little river that cut across the town. A small bridge granted access to a tiny isle along the water, where we presently strolled, making our way to yet another little bridge. I watched the water flow, my lips pursed in thought at Lachance's no doubt tall tale. "Can you really fry an egg under the Elsweyr sun?"

Lucien gave a small nod, a proud smile on his lips. "If you crack it on a dead man's iron breastplate, you certainly can." I shook my head lightly, already thoroughly used to his off-color remarks. He spoke easily of death. I found it difficult to stomach but did my best to ignore his macabre comments. I was beginning to find it surprisingly easy. When not overly sexual and dark, Lucien Lachance was interesting, to say the least. Since my earlier teasing, the assassin seemed a touch less crass. He walked by my side, granted me some distance and picked topics that were far more tame. I found it amusing how easily my exploitation of his desires caused him to mind. It made all much more pleasant.

"I think you may be lying to me." I dared, watching as a rogue bit of ice drifted down the stream. Once the hour had reached noon nearly all snow had gone, revealing even more pretty greenery. The sun had become so delightfully warm that I was tempted to remove my cloak. My returned hair ribbon was most welcome as I was no longer constantly fussing when the breeze blew.

"You say that I am honest yet you question everything that comes out of my mouth..." He muttered, eyes playful. "Oh, Little Countess, you already have the makings of a typical wife. Ask and do not listen, listen and do not believe. A terrible cycle, or so I am told."

I gave a little shrug, reaching out to touch a damp moss covered rock in passing. "I suppose I shall just have to take your word on that then - both wives and fried eggs."

Lachance only scoffed, eyeing the rock beneath my fingertips as he spoke. "Surely you've known a wife or two." In truth, I knew not what the 'normal' wife did nor how she behaved. Of course, I knew of the usual stamps upon a marriage, wives complained and husbands drank or cheated. However, the union of my parents was anything but conventional. My father was never there and when he came home rage or tears ensued. My mother was the cause of the majority of his pains. Being physically removed from the chapel of Dibella brought much shame to my little family. Her drinking had worsened then but never did my mother nag. No, she cared not what her husband, children or her grandchildren did. Nor how we lived.

"None that I would like to discuss," I said with a sigh as I turned to face him. Lucien watched me for a moment, no doubt reading my irritation over the topic, no matter how hard I tried to hide it.

The assassin only offered a grin and leaned in close. "Mysterious,"

"Stop with that." I tutted, walking around him in the hopes of encouraging the end of our conversation.

"You will need to discuss such a thing soon, Little Countess." He regretfully continued, soon at my side as we stepped onto the bridge. "Come now, is the matter of marriage truly so painful? You would think I was torturing you." I swallowed hard and stopped in my tracks to stare out at the water. My body suddenly hurt, a pain that could not be stifled no matter how hard I tried to push it from my thoughts. Unbeknownst to Lucien Lachance, he was closer to the truth than he probably realized. I involuntarily went stiff and my face flushed terribly. I could hear the Count's words in my head so clearly. It was as though he stood by my side, speaking to me as he had once done.

'Marriage is torture. Marriage is a pretty word. It means two people are to share everything together; every moment, struggle and triumph. It means that they are to face the world together hand in hand, come what may. But hear me when I say, it is a farce...' I swallowed hard, facing away from the assassin. My eyes began to burn but I could not shut out the Count's voice from my head. I could only wonder if he remembered saying any of these words to me and if they affected him at all when he posed his ultimatum. 'Abigale Lynn, I beg of you...if you ever marry never give half. Give all or say no.' Tears began to streak down my cheeks as I continued to watch the water beneath the planks of the bridge. My body felt heavy. I gave in to trying to ignore the echo in my thoughts. '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 bit my lip, nearly hard enough to draw blood. I missed him, I feared him. Thinking of him confused me. 'You think me cruel, maybe you are right too. For I selfishly love you and want to keep you forever.'

The Count's face in my mind's eye was clear. He was so handsome, his fanged smile charming. I missed his red eyes and cold touch. I missed watching his pale fingers run through his dark hair as he thought or spoke...but I feared him. I feared him tantamount to my longing. In the blink of an eye, the Count could go from a dream to a nightmare. His smile could twist into a scowl, the lightness that I so enjoyed would warp and crumble, a new person taking form in the body of the man I cared for. When in a certain mind, he cared not for my feelings or wellbeing. I did not matter as a person and he let me know this on many occasions. When the Count was angry I was nothing more than a thing and he wanted me to remain as such. I needed to remain as such. I was to do as he wanted and take the form he wished. Whether it be compassionate, dutiful, or lustful, I simply had to obey to ensure my safety with him. It was confusing.

The Count claimed to love me and I did not doubt him in the slightest. However, I did doubt certain elements of his affection. I also knew that as a person, his treatment of me was wrong but as a slave, I could do nothing. I was alive because he willed it to be so. It was something that would never go away and it pained me greatly. I wanted to care for a man who could view me as little more than a spec of dust when angry. A man who could so easily destroy things in a fit of anger. A man who had turned on me several times and had only been a breath away from doing severe damage...

A sudden hand upon my shoulder caused me to gasp audibly and scramble away from its owner. I placed my own hand on my breasts, chest heaving and cheeks wet as I stared at a bewildered Lachance, my back against the bridge's railing. "I-I'm sorry," I stammered, watching his brows knit together in confusion. My mouth had gone dry and I felt terribly foolish. "I...I was not... I-"

"Back in Skingrad?" He asked sharply, confusion leaving him to be replaced with an unmistakable irritation. The assassin straightened himself, his expression knowing. "Care to tell this time?"

"N-no I was...I -" I fumbled, frustrated as I tried to catch my breath, unsure why it had gone from me in the first place. "It is not what you think, I was just startled." I again tried to explain, watching on puzzled as Lucien Lachance shook his head.

"No, you were on edge, my dear. Awaiting something." His dark eyes scanned me as I hastily wiped the tears from my face. His implication angered me, his eyes angered me. The way he so casually stared and pried and knew things caused my blood to boil.

"You are wrong," I said with finality, trying to appear confident and true. I watched the assassin again shake his head, much more slowly this time. The small movement caused me to nearly tremble with rage.

"No, Abigale, I am not. So, what are you awaiting?"

'Count your blessings this evening, girl. Next time I won't be so forgiving, or you so lucky.'

"How would you know? You do not know. You know nothing of Skingrad!" I snapped defensively, doing my best to stand my ground. A part of me was unsure why I projected such anger at Lucien Lachance. In truth, his assumptions were irritating but they did not warrant my fury. He was not the person I was angry with...the man who had hurt me could never feel my wrath or temper. He could never know how deeply he pained or frightened me, for if he did, he could act out against me. I would always be made to walk on eggshells and look over my shoulder. The Count's retaliation proved brutal. I wondered if I could do it for all eternity. Fresh tears formed in my eyes at the thoughts. I had to look away from the assassin, feeling ashamed. "I am sorry," I swallowed hard, deeply regretting my outburst. "You are not wrong but you are not right. I-I should not direct this anger towards you. It is not for you. I am sorry."

"I know who it is for." He said all too casually as he made his way closer. I took a small step away from him, I did not want him near. I felt poorly enough for being so weak to my own thoughts while in his company. "If you do not wish to speak of your pain then it is done until you do. A topic for another day... Would confessing my unwavering attraction to your person help in any small way? You are beautiful even in your sorrow. It is an oddly tragic thing to witness. I'll confess, I do not like it." He eyed me strangely, for once looking a tad unsure of himself. "The only time I see such pain is when I personally inflict it. Usually physically. How do I make this stop?"

I turned away from him, hiding my face from his view, surprised that I did not yet get ridiculed by Lachance. "It will pass. I am sorry." I wiped my tears, still unable to face him. "I-it is not so bad there. I am just difficult. P-poorly react to everything." I was thankful that Lucien did not try to force me to speak to him more. I was, however, slightly surprised once I received a few awkward pats to my head from him. Strange as it was, the action amused me slightly, despite me not fully understand why it did. "I am not a dog," I said with a weak smile as I fussed with my cloak in attempts to keep myself distracted. "I do not need to be petted."

"Now, I could do much with that statement...but I will not. Very regrettable but timing is everything." I was grateful for the space he gave me and the small consideration of biting his tongue for a moment. I eventually turned back to the assassin, finding his cheeky grin welcoming. I quite liked his version of consoling someone as he did not know how and so did not move to touch me more. Instead, Lucien turned, arms folded along the railing of the little bridge as he looked down at the water. "Do you know little Argonians teethe?" He asked quite randomly. Inwardly, I smiled a little at the terribly obvious distraction. Yet again, I found it endearing and the change of topic was welcome.

"Do not all babies?" I asked as I finished drying my eyes, carefully making my way towards him.

"I did not say, babies. Although, they do as well." He clarified with a grin, "I found this out the hard way. It seems Argonians teethe every so many years in their youth. Better still, each set comes in sharper than the last." He scoffed lightly, and I found his tone of voice amusing. "I lost a fine pair of boots to this glorious discovery."

I rejoined the assassin's side, enjoying his random tale. The distraction was kind and imagery helped distract me from my thoughts. "I pity the little Argonian who chewed your boot," I admitted as I too placed my arms upon the railing.

"Argonians," Lucien clarified, looking a tad annoyed over his own recollection. "They were old enough to know better... I will have you know that they still draw breath, but at the time, I deeply regretted the decision to let them live."

I placed my chin in my hand as I watched his handsome profile, finding his mercy questionable, yet not. "You did not hurt them too badly, I hope?"

"No more than needed be," He said, his grin a tad lopsided. "Then I sent the eldest to work for a cobbler without pay for a few weeks. I tried to make an example out of him for his sister...he ended up liking the work far too much and I had to pull him from it. To this day, he still enjoys shoemaking." Lachance shook his head, chuckling softly. "At least it is only a pastime for him now. I've had to threaten to turn him into a pair of boots on more than one occasion. Always so lost in thought... Thankfully, his sister minds. She is far more ambitious. Too ambitious, at times."

With a small pout and quirked brow, I watched the assassin. The tale was growing more difficult to believe as he continued with it. Lucien was very good at pulling false expressions, so I could not put any stock in his features. However, I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. If anything, all was still a very considerate distraction. "...So a pair of Argonian siblings ate your boots?" I eventually inquired, watching as he turned to me, his expression sly.

"Twins."

"Now I know you are lying."

XXXX

Janus sat in his library, watching several books fly over his head. In his boredom, the magic of telekinesis often proved a passable distraction, almost like a mindless tick as his thoughts wandered. Not truly being in the mood to read, the Count only sighed and twirled his finger, watching the books above him slowly spin. It was hypnotic. Although Abigale Lynn had only been gone for a few days, he was growing remarkably impatient with her absence. He tried to be good and not think about her but she surrounded everything he did. Janus desperately sought strength as he attempted to focus on his mourning but that was proving to be a fruitless endeavor. Having already done far more county work than what was denoted as healthy, the Count had decided to take a small break from his legislative duties.

Janus found himself worried for his little love. Of course, her feelings troubled and angered him but he was much more concerned for her wellbeing. Abigale Lynn was young, beautiful and kind...but she was also small, frail and hurt. The hurt was his doing, he knew this well. He could only hope that she would not act upon her pain. For someone was certainly trying their hardest to gain his Abigale Lynn's interest. Janus worried. Her pursuer had already woven himself deeply into the back of her thoughts. The feeling was familiar. A strange awareness. It was almost as though she already knew this person before Janus sent her away with the Brotherhood.

With a shake of his head, The Count tried to banish the thoughts. Although his magic was blocked and he could not feel her, Janus knew her to be alright. Her life was steady, undamaged and strong. He did feel bouts of fear but they faded naturally, it was not cut by magical means. And the painful and unfortunate truth was that Abigale Lynn's fear was nowhere near as strong as he often made it...whatever frightened her did not come close to what he had made her feel on a regular basis. Knowing that he was more menacing to his love than a group of Dark Brotherhood assassins caused him to reflect a great deal. Shame had quieted his anger toward her curiosity to another.

Everything fell on his shoulders and the weight was burdensome. He just wanted his little love back. The quiet of his home was almost maddening now. He missed her natural sounds and sweet smell. Janus wondered what she was doing, how she was fairing and if her needs were met. Then he wondered why he had not wondered so strongly on such things when she was with him.

XXXX

The Count of Skingrad stared at his new maid with great interest. Every Fredas, the young woman would shadow his two usual servants and clean his manor. Janus tried to be uninterested, he did his best to avoid her but he found himself constantly near her. Looking at her. He would sit at his desk, quill unmoving in his hand, watching as her slender fingers worked a shine back into the base of a silver candlestick...he could not help it. He felt ridiculous. The motion was so innocent but to his very intimately starved person, it was the most erotic thing he had witnessed in years. Worse still, he had been caught watching her a tad too intently by his other servant, Rheena. The Redguard had fixed him with such a hateful look. If Janus could have blushed, he would have turned as red as the blood in his goblet.

He had tried harder then to ignore the young woman and eventually felt a bit successful. The Count felt better once he acknowledged his loneliness and the girl's growing loveliness. It brought him comfort to simply confront his lustful thoughts, as they were natural and it was nothing too new. Although he had not desired a servant girl since before his marriage, it was a tune he knew well. Over time, he slowly began to feel comfortable around his maid, her peculiar little quirks showing her in another light that had little to do with desire. He felt confident enough to keep her around him nightly, so it was done.

Janus had not anticipated just how on edge the girl would be when no longer shadowing his two older servants. She was quiet, timid, and ever contrite but all was made worse when they were alone. Her quiet turned into stunned silence, her timidness warped into frozen fear or little trembles and 'contrite' became a severe understatement. Only when Janus could no longer stand her near disturbing characteristics did he break protocol and try to comfort the girl. At first, she was anything but receptive, staring at him by a painting as though he would obliterate her with words alone.

Thankfully, she slowly warmed up to him, even with all the bumps along the way. Unfortunately, he warmed to her as well, perhaps too much and too quickly. One night in particular, Janus found himself especially sneaky.

The Count had been so focused on county work that the evening had flown by. He had frowned deeply at the clock, realizing that he had hardly paid his maid any mind. Janus did not yet want her to go. He enjoyed that soft, rhythmic beating of her heart and her bright curious gaze... His eyes shifted about the room, watching her back as she stood in the corner with a duster in hand. Janus was oddly desperate for her companionship but they did not yet know each other well enough for him to ask her to stay. So, he improvised. Feeling superbly deceitful but no less driven, the Count summoned a little bit of magic to his fingertips and turned the hands of the clock back by an hour.

xxxx

Lachance and I had mindlessly roamed the city for hours, stopping only at an inn around nightfall. I was not tired nor hungry but ate and rested without complaint. The assassin enjoyed showing me around much like he had done at the Imperial City. Thankfully, this time around, he was not as rude with his hands. I still caught him staring and he still made no attempts to hide the action when caught. As was his norm, he only grinned at being found. Regardless of his impossibly cheeky behavior, I found it difficult to be angry with the man.

The assassin proved to be very informative. He knew much about Cyrodiil and the provinces he visited. I found it a bit odd that a murderer was so knowledgeable about trades, politics, and history. Nerah Vlando had once said that Lucien held a position of power in their ranks but I knew not how far the Brotherhood stretched. Yet the Count was the most powerful man I knew and even he went to them for aid. Guiltily, I tried not to listen too well when he decided to speak about politics. Counts and Countesses were not things I was presently keen on discussing. However, I did find his tall tales amusing.

Lachance nursed a beer as we sat by a fireplace in the local inn. For the last half-hour, he had continuously offered me a drink, which I repeatedly refused. Of course, he remained undeterred and continued to harass me. "You are certain, quite certain that you do not want a single drop?" He again inquired, swirling the bottle in my direction. "It's good. Not particularly cold but good all the same."

"No thank you," I said again, watching him make the drink dance with a quirked brow.

"Not to your tastes? Perhaps a mead would better suit you." I shook my head, watching the assassin pout. Lucien was strangely persistent with his offering. He no doubt wanted me drunk but what he hoped to gain from that I could not fathom. I knew he would not harm me even without the amulet, unless I gave him good cause too, which left me to wonder his motives this time. "There must be something that tempts you, even if slightly...wine?" I shook my head much harder this time. Lucien sighed, growing agitated by my rejection. "Will you really make me guess?"

I folded my arms across my chest, feeling rather exposed without my cloak around my shoulders. "I will say no even if you guess right."

"Well, that is just unfair, Little Countess." Lachance leaned back in his chair and he too crossed his arms, eyeing me coyly. "I never would have expected such deceitful behavior from one such as yourself. An intriguing discovery. I do so enjoy a challenge." For a moment I attempted to ignore his expectant stare but it was so very distracting. I finally gave in, finding the silence irritating and heavy.

"May I ask you a question?" I forced, both curious and flustered.

"Only if you tell me your favorite drink." He swiftly countered, then paused. "...And food and flower and anything else you favor. Then I will answer your question if I am able."

I sighed with annoyance but agreed to his foolishness with a nod all the same. "Fine. Surilie wine. I honestly do not have a favorite food or flower." I chewed my lip as I stared at the assassin who only watched me for a moment, awaiting more. Once he was met with more silence by me, he gave a little shrug.

"Then I honestly do not have an answer to your question," Lachance said while casually taking another sip of his beer. "Try again."

I made a small sound in exasperation. "But I don't...What does it matter?" I asked as I watched Lucien Lachance deliberately stared me down. The assassin was using my dislike to being watched as a means to make me speak. It worked. "I really do not have any favorites. I-I think grapes are nice. Flowers...I never really thought about it." I rubbed my shoulder nervously. "Roses, I suppose. Is that not what I am supposed to say?" The assassin only quirked his brow, looking unconvinced. I did not know why he cared to know such a thing. Regardless, I thought back and tried again. "I was once given a flower. It was pretty and I liked it very much. I don't recall its name but it was orange, yellow and red. It had little speckles inside too...I think she may have called it a lion flower?"

"Tiger lily." Lucien Lachance corrected with a chuckle. I only remained quiet. "I should have seen that one coming. Did you know lily flowers happen to be a rather prominent symbol of Dibella worship? They are stamped and carved everywhere in Her temples. I suppose here in Cyrodiil everything about the Goddess is tamed for the very delicate masses. Hard to see any detail." I had seen many depictions of the Goddess and the flower she held in her hands but it was so very pale. It was certainly not the vibrant orange of my memory flower. "Who gave this to you? You said it was a 'she', yes? Well, she has quite the sense of humor to gift that to a Dibellan."

"It was from my mother," I said with a frown. The ever perceptive assassin could easily sense my soreness over the topic as the natural glint in his eye vanished.

"A painfully tender topic." He mused as he settled further into his chair, giving his chin a thoughtful scratch. "I believe I have already made you significantly uncomfortable today and the night has just begun. Let us not start it by reopening old wounds, hmm?"

"A topic for another day?" I echoed the assassin with a thankful smile, watching as he downed the remnants of his beer.

"Another life." He said resolutely. Lucien Lachance then placed the empty bottle down, face impassive as he folded his hands on the table before us. "Now, what was your question, Little Countess?"

For a moment I had forgotten my question as I had been so focused on my tiger lily. Once it came back to me, my smile all but vanished and I watched the assassin with renewed suspicion. "Why do you want me drunk?"

"Do you really need to ask that?" He answered fast, looking at me impishly. I only glared in response. "Well, for one reason, I think the possibility of sex increase dramatically with even slight drunkenness. At any rate, some of those nearly impenetrable walls would come down." Lachance then cleared his throat and fixed me with a look. "But truth be told, I am bringing you to my Family tonight and a small drink may have helped your nerves. Unfortunately, you refused and I grow weary of this place...so, let us be off."

xxxx

The streets of Cheydinhal became terribly cold, empty and dark. Lucien Lachance again walked me around the bank of the little river. We strolled in silence and I enjoyed the quiet. I watched my breath dance and slowly vanish on the frigid night air. "I must warn you," Lucien began, his tone lower than the norm. "Once we are among my Family, you must obey me. I say this to aid you. Be respectful and they will treat you well." I turned to watch the assassin, curious as to why he saw fit to again remind me of my obedience. "Take whatever I say as an order and know that I will not break my vow to you."

"What will I be required to do?" I dared to ask, slowing to a stop by another bridge.

"Nothing too extravagant. However, all that I say is absolute among the Family you will meet. If you defy me in any small way I will have to retaliate." He flashed me a wolfish grin. Again in the night, I found his features and black eyes chilling. "I do not tolerate insubordination of any kind. Therefore, should you give me cause, you would not be spared punishment. Appearances mean a great deal to us." He came before me again, smile still prominent and placed a hand upon my cheek. "I do hope you mind yourself, I would hate to have to cause you any more pain, even if something physical and shallow."

"How very kind." I glared as his thumb stroked my skin. I could again see that want in his eyes, the same look he had this morning. His boldness was still rather astounding. Lucien Lachance had just gently threatened me, yet he sought some means of pleasure as he eyed my lips. I did not understand how his mind worked, or any man's, for that matter, but I knew this to be absurdly brazen. Perhaps he hoped to frighten me into submission, perhaps he meant to touch me as a means to bring me comfort. Either way, he failed. "Am I under your absolute ruling now?" I questioned as he inched even nearer, dark eyes again gleaming.

"Not yet, soon, though..." I allowed him to draw in close. I only stared hard at Lucien Lachance, watching as his own gaze roamed me heatedly. I internally bristled at his assumption of my willingness. Did he think his threats would make me swoon? His passions seemed to come without reason or warning. The man's desires drove him, whether it was the desire to succeed, to make good on a promise or his want for me, he excitedly pursued without any cares or thoughts of repercussion. With this in mind, I again amused myself at his expense, allowing him to proceed until he was again so very close. A breath away...

"Then remove your hand and person," I said firmly, chin tilted to meet him. Again, it was a small revenge. "Please."

Lachance smirked down at me but his hand thankfully left my cheek. I glowed at the response to my little demand, partially dumbstruck that he actually listened to me. "Will you really not yet let me kiss you?" The assassin asked, his voice laced with disbelieving humor. I thought it was all still impossibly presumptuous. Me allowing him to do anything other than kiss my clothing was a foolish thought.

"Why on Nirn would I?" I asked with indifference, watching Lucien's expression with mild annoyance. He looked far too smug for a man who was just denied a kiss.

"Because you want me to." Lucien Lachance said with all the pride and self-assurance that only he possessed. Nevertheless, I only blinked in confusion at his words. How he ever came to such a conclusion was beyond me. I may have teased him today but it was nothing in comparison to what he regularly did to me. Truthfully, I was unsure why I toyed with him. Partly revenge, partly to watch his eyes.

I cleared my throat, attempting to appear unfazed by his words, when in reality, they irked me in ways I did not understand. "There is a line between confidence and delusion, Lucien. May I ask what makes you think I want you to kiss me?"

"Many things," He said vaguely, reaching into his pack to procure the dreaded blindfold, finally displaying a small bit of disappointment as he did so. "But it is mostly in your eyes. You are curious." I found his observation funny, thinking of how Lachance looked at me with a curious, wanting stare. I doubted that I had the same look about my features but I said nothing in response, fearing my denial would only prove more questionable. Instead, I turned from him and removed my hood, allowing him to secure the sash once more.

"I suppose I am partly curious about you," I admitted once my sight was gone and my hood was again pulled upward. Lachance secured his arm around my waist, guiding me as we walked. "But I am curious for other reasons... about other things, too."

"So you say," He remarked lightly, warm fingers drumming along my hip. "What about me is curious to you?"

I wetted my lips, unsure how to pose my question tactfully. After a moment of deliberation, I abandoned my thoughtful approach and blurted the inquiry. "How are you so very bold and blunt? It is as disturbing as it is amazing." Feeling mildly foolish, I mentally cursed my embarrassed blush, thankful that I could not see the assassin's face. "I-It is frightening too. I could never be so brave."

"Hmm, is it really so hard for you? I have heard much about your trouble with talking but I think we have only had minimal difficulty." Lachance observed as continued to lead me. "You do not give yourself enough credit for what you do. You are brave in your own right. After all, you stood your ground to me, an assassin...not an easy thing to do." Lachance stopped us and I listened closely to the sound of a lock clicking and door opening. I was quickly pushed into a new area, one with solid floors that smelt old and dusty. Lucien closed the door behind us and relocked the bolt. "Perhaps we should take a moment to reflect on your bravery. It may do you well, considering where we are headed."

"T-to your Family," I said aloud, unsure why I felt the need to do so. We went further into the strange place. Through another door and down some steep steps. Soon the smell of dust faded and another scent took hold. It was heavy, extremely oppressing and damp. Earthy and dark. Sinister...I did not like it.

I was eventually released, the assassin guiding my hand to wet, cold stone as he stepped away. "Think about your accomplishments," Lachance randomly offered. I nodded and tried to do as he advised. However, I was soon alerted to the sound of rustling cloth. The distraction was difficult to ignore and I focused on it, needing anything to distract myself from the ominous air.

I nervously chewed my lip. "Y-you are not getting naked again, are you?"

"No. Would you like me to?" The assassin teased, causing me to quickly shake my head. "Well prepare yourself, regardless...for now I must be cruel to you." I was not given a chance to react as I was suddenly grabbed from the wall I had moments ago used for support, my blindfold quickly being torn from me as well. I stared wide-eyed at the newly shrouded Lucien Lachance who was bathed in a blood red light. His usual smile was gone and his eyes were terribly dark. I swallowed hard and sought composure, reminded all too well of the first time I saw him hooded beneath a streetlamp. "Little Abigale, you stand upon unholy ground, a Sanctuary for those who find art in blood and death. Make no mistake, we revel in malice and suffering. And you are now a guest among us here, an innocent to be housed and protected. Yet before we are your guardians we are takers of life. Our blades thirst for blood...lest you wish to lose more of yours by means other than what you are accustomed to, you will obey and walk these halls with due respect."

For a moment I could only stare foolishly at the assassin. Eventually, I managed a small nod, my throat too tight to speak. Lachance then carefully turned me around and placed his hand upon my head, forcing me to look down. I stiffened at the sight before me. The stone I stood upon was caked in old blood. There were handprints and dragging marks. All lead to a black and red door - the source of the otherworldly red lighting. I could not look at it long, I could no bear to. "Do you see?" Lachance continued, again gesturing to the bloodied markings on the floor. "You are not the first to enter my Sanctuary as a guest. How you choose to leave is up to you. Some tend to listen well more than others. I hope you heed my words."

Again, I only nodded. Lucien straightened us and had me face the door, which I refused to look at. "Now, shut your eyes and ears. Pray that you do not hear me." I did as told, focusing on the bloodied floor with my heart in my throat before closing my eyes. I tentatively placed my hands over my ears, Lucien firmly placed his hands over my own. With my hearing as muffled as we could make it, I chewed my lip and focused on my rapid pulse. There was nothing more...then the floor vibrated. Shortly after, I was released. Lucien Lachance poked my nose, signaling me to open my eyes as if all was right with the world. With extreme hesitance, I removed my hands from my ears as well.

The grim looking door was opened, revealing a small dark hall and brightened chamber further within. I could see tapestries, rugs, torches and people. The latter frightening me more than any bloody floor ever could. "I do not expect you to fall to your knees in supplication," Lachance stated quietly as he offered me an arm which I quickly took. Despite being frightened, I would gladly cling to Lucien. "But show respect and remain close, unless I say otherwise. You trust me, do you not? Act as my shadow. You will be treated well." Again I nodded, which caused the assassin to smirk down at me. "You may speak, Little Countess. Just be mindful of what you say. Pass no judgment here."

Swallowing hard, I repressed the urge to toy with the amulet and forced myself to speak. "Y-you said you wanted to be addressed...H-how do I address you here?"

"A thoughtful question...but I am their Speaker, I am your guide. You have the great honor of calling me, Lucien. Which is a formality I do not grant many, mind you." We entered the chamber and I was surprised at how very large it was. There were many doors and adjacent corridors. I was baffled, fascinated and mortified. As we approached a leather armor-clad Argonian, I felt my mouth go dry. His hood was up and his snout was in a book. I found it curious that the Argonian wore armor identical to Nerah Vlando.

Lachance looked down on the young Argonian with a malicious gleam in his eyes. He took our packs and held them out, before unceremoniously plopping them onto the table the murderer sat by. They landed with a loud 'thump', which caused the Argonian to look up in annoyance. "Sweet Sithis! I swear, Nerah...Ah! Speaker!" The Argonian jumped to his feet, book forgotten as he rounded the table to bow in Lachance's direction. "It is so good to see you! I hope the journey went well."

"Remarkably so," Lucien grinned. "I'll confess, it went far too well. I could not help but to extend it."

"I've heard." The Argonian snickered. "You had best see Vicente soon, Brother. He was worried sick for her -" His orange eyes flicked to me and I quickly stared at the floor. "Ehem. My apologies, please, do forgive my rudeness. I am Teinaava. Vicente is greatly worried for you, Lady Abigale." Trying to obey Lucien and not be rude, I forced myself to meet the Argonian's gaze and nodded hesitantly. He beamed at the action. "We are honored to house you on behalf of our generous benefactor. May you find yourself at home here."

"Thank you." I swallowed hard, still stunned into compliance.

Lucien grinned widely. "Brother, I told Abigale here about an incident that occurred when you were around the age of five. She called me a liar. Would you be so kind as to verify for her? Give us the brief version, my dear cobbler." I watched the Argonian cringe some at the memory.

"Oh...certainly, Speaker." Teinaava began, straightening some. "It was many years ago, back when my sister and I were first inducted into Speaker Lucien's charge. I uh... I did not yet fully understand Imperial footwear. We were still hatchlings, with another set of teeth on the way...Our Speaker already wore a pair of boots, so I assumed the pair he left behind were ownerless..."

"Were they?" Lachance teased, looking positively sinister.

"Certainly not! To this day it remains one of the biggest mistakes of my life. I never again wanted to face your wrath." The young Argonian concluded with an apprehensive expression. Even though I was still very fearful and unsure of all, I was positively bewildered at Teinaava's story. Knowing that Lucien Lachance again told the truth was so very odd. The assassin, the Speaker, again proved to be frighteningly honest.

"Then my lesson was well received." Lachance said smugly. "Now, where is Ocheeva?"

The Argonian pointed down the hall. "She turned in early. Stayed up all evening the night before waiting for your return."

"I have told her not to do such things..." Lucien sighed, sounding legitimately exasperated. He then shook his head. "Ah well. I shall speak to her in the morning. Excuse us, Brother. We have much to do before turning in ourselves."

"Of course, Speaker." Teinaava gave a polite nod of his head before setting his attention back to me. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Lady Abigale."

"A-and you as well." I managed the best I could, earning an encouraging grin from the Speaker. We then walked down a darkened corridor, where more voices could be heard. I held Lachance's arm tightly as we ventured deeper into the Dark Brotherhood hideout. I tried not to focus on any one thing as we strolled. Instead, I let my eyes roam and mind wander. So long as I did not think too much about where I was or who I was with, I could manage.

"Honorable Speaker!" Came a voice from behind us. Lachance stopped and turned, the action almost lazy. Down the hall we had just passed through purposely marched a very excited looking blonde Breton. She stopped before us and gave Lucien a little bow, much like Teinaava had done. "My most sincere apologies for today, Brother. I did not know you were yet in town. I was surprised. I hope I did not cause you any grief." The woman was also leather clad. She was small, like myself and was fair. Her hair was short, blonde and wavy and her eyes were a cool blue color, framed with pale lashes. I stared at her, unable to fully hide my fascination and shock. This was the woman who had dropped her goods on the street corner as Lachance and I walked by. She was young and pretty...and an assassin. It was startling.

"No...but you could have, Netta." Lucien said pointedly, his face showing disappointment. "You know as well as I that there will be times when you see a Dark Brother or Sister in public. Ignore. Do not drop your bread loaves and gape."

The woman nodded, looking distressed. "I am so sorry, Speaker. It won't happen again, I promise."

"Then all is forgiven," Lachance said smoothly, his grin returning, all of which caused the Breton's face to show unmistakable delight. "Now, an introduction...Antionetta Marie, meet Abigale Lynn. Abigale Lynn, meet Antionetta Marie."

She stepped before me quickly and I instinctively gripped their Speaker tighter. Lucien chuckled quietly at my reaction. "It is an absolute pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Abigale Lynn! Our Speaker and Brother Vicente have told us so much about you." I tried to smile but it plainly showed my fears and its falseness. Much like Lucien, this particular assassin saw through me well. "Oh, no need to be afraid here! You are most welcome!" I was able to mutter a soft 'thank you' as she looked me over peculiarly. "Hmm, your hair is more orange than it is red. I wish you would have specified, Speaker. Had I known, I would have tried a different spell. It may have suited your tastes better!"

I blanched and slowly turned my attention back to Lucien, whose jaw had tightly set into place as he observed Antoinetta Marie with quiet surprise. I remembered a conversation I had with Nerah Vlando in the Count's bedchamber about her 'Sister' spelling her hair red for Lucien because of me...actually meeting the woman was immeasurably uncomfortable. "I doubt this color can be replicated." The Speaker replied calmly. "Go about your duties, Sister. Abigale and I have much to do."

"Yes, Speaker! And Welcome, Lady Abigale! Good luck! Have fun!" I was more than thankful as he turned us away.

We walked in a very uncomfortable silence, broken only when Lucien Lachance deemed himself ready. "For the sake of the honesty that I gift to you, do not ask about that hair nonsense. I will not be truthful." I glanced at him, feeling very troubled by what had transpired moments ago. Knowing the man I clung to for safety slept with a woman who had attempted to tailor her looks to mine for him was horrible. It was perhaps the most unsettled around a woman I had ever been.

"I do not need to ask, I already know," I muttered, weakly.

"Ah..." Lucien sighed and glanced at me from the corner of his vision. "Nerah?"

Shaking my head, I looked away from their Speaker and again mumbled a response. "I cannot say."

"Nerah." He grunted, irritably. We walked further down the corridor until we met a lone door at its very end. Lachance turned to me, his usual temperament resurfacing. "Well, let that also be a topic for another day...or life."

"Life sounds better to me." I agreed, happy to put an end to the very uncomfortable topic. Lucien smiled and pushed the door open without so much as a knock. Inside the chamber was a round table, a cabinet in the back, several full bookshelves and many paintings along the walls. The area was somehow tidy and untidy at the same time. Papers were strewn about a ledger to my right, while several books were stacked on the floor by a chair to my left. In the back was a stone slab and several iron candlesticks, glowing softly. Before me, amidst the clutter and order, stood a greatly relieved looking Vicente Valtieri. His face broke out into a large grin once his eyes fell to me.

"It is so good to see you." He said happily, stepping forward. "I had been worried sick -" I inched closer to Lucien Lachance, the action causing Vicente to falter and look confused. "I...I am greatly sorry for deceiving you...Speaker, may I have a word with the Lady Abigale?" Lucien's expression was smug, he placed his hand over mine which held his arm. I knew he was greatly enjoying my closeness in front of Vicente. Truth be told, it was not forced. I was not out to stroke their Speaker's ego, I was, however, looking out for my best interest. Oddly enough, I was safest with Lachance, despite it all.

"I am afraid that is not up to me, Vicente." He replied, giving the vampire before us a serious look. "You must ask that of Abigale. It is her company that you wish to borrow." Vicente's eyes narrowed ever so slightly but he quickly shook the stare. He frowned and turned his attention to me. As I waited for him to speak, I realized how very angry I was with the vampire. He was the Count's friend...and yet he encouraged my fears of him, so much so that I followed his advice and left. Of course, I had wanted to leave and asked Vicente if he would help me to do so. Handing me over to an assassin who had violated and threatened me was not what I considered to be aid. Nor was it something a friend would do.

I had foolishly trusted Vicente and confided in him. According to Lucien, my willingness to leave the Castle was purely optional as Vicente was determined to get me out. Whether it was as a means to protect me from the Count or for some hidden selfish gain, I no longer knew. The plan seemed awfully careless and cruel, regardless. After opening my heart and speaking of my fears, he handed me over to another who I thought wanted to do me harm...

"Abigale Lynn, would you please sit and talk with me for a moment? There is much that I must explain." I glared, feeling my cheeks turn pink as I again thought of all I had told the vampire. Everything I said was then told to Lucien. Everything. I doubted that their Speaker had to try very hard to get information from Vicente.

I turned my attention to Lucien Lachance, my lip between my teeth as I wondered what to do. Eventually, I forced myself to speak. "Y-you told me to be respectful." I began softly, watching as Lucien gave a small nod.

"Indeed, I did." He said easily, gaze shifting back to a now very curious Vicente. He eyed our closeness with apparent apprehension.

I looked to Vicente and straightened, holding Lachance tighter. "Then I would like to politely decline."

Vicente took a step forward, looking thoroughly taxed. "Abigale Lynn, please -"

"You heard her, Vicente. She is in no mood." The Speaker said firmly with one hand raised. Vicente froze, his expression still troubled. Lucien stepped behind me and put his now free hands upon my shoulders. I could feel his smile but I paid it no mind. He could delight in my refusal to Vicente just as I enjoyed his power to protect me. "Come now, Little Countess. I shall introduce you to all who are here, then we shall retire together." Vicente's expression twisted, he stared disbelievingly at his Speaker and I. Lucien began to steer us from the room, speaking purposely to me, his words directed at Vicente. "This bed is much larger than the last. It should fit us better." He nodded to the vampire. "Oh, we'll talk later, Brother. I must tend to her needs first." His hand went to my waist as we stepped out into the hall. We walked in silence for a moment. I hugged myself, feeling jaded and angry. Again, the Speaker broke the quiet. "You said you liked grapes...what is your opinion of apples?"

Author's Notes: Lucien's Apples! - kinda sounds like a curse word XD Abigale Lynn is so dang confused! And not much Hassildor in this chapter, unfortunately...I miss him too, Abby :( XD The Sanctuary setup took a lot of the chapter and this installment was already LONG too. R&R, if you like!