Love or Blood

by GothicRose18

A thief gets caught stealing within castle Skingrad. The punishment is death but Count Janus Hassildor spares her life. She becomes his newest servant and an odd little companion. But when feelings begin to bloom between the two, will they give the Count happiness or torture his poor soul further? Janus.H/OC/L.L

58. Drakelowe

Author's Notes: You guys are amazing! I'm really humbled with how many of my readers connect with the characters or elements here in LoB. When I read your reviews I get ridiculously happy, knowing that I'm not alone in liking and relating to this crazy fic. I put a lot of energy into this story and I really enjoy writing it...maybe now more than I ever did. As such, I'm trying my best to not disappoint. I say at the beginning of each chapter that I LOVE the reviews. I really, really do! Each time I see one I end up writing over a thousand words in roughly thirty minutes XD Pathetic on my part, I know. A fast update is just my way of responding to you all. So again, THANK YOU. I've been considering responding to all my reviews via author's notes like some authors do, but I'm afraid my response would surpass the chapter's length, as I never shut up XD. So for now, I hope these updates will aptly express my gratitude! Thank you all again...and on another note (dodges shoe) the theories some of you have are verrry interesting...maybe even correct XD

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WARNING: This chapter is rated M.You have been warned.

Love or Blood

Chapter Fifty-six: Drakelowe

xxxx

It was early dawn when Lucien Lachance and I mounted Shadowmere. We rode for some time in silence. I held the assassin's warm back and fought to stay alert. Despite the constant strain and movement, I felt oddly drowsy. Over the last week, my dreams had been robbing me of restful sleep. They were either nightmares or embarrassingly vivid dreams of the Count. I would beg him to touch me, feeling nothing but reckless desire and bliss as he did so and only when I woke did I feel shame. I knew my recent - and still very much forced - closeness with the Dark Brotherhood Speaker spurred the wild and wanton fantasies but it could not be helped. Sex was the only thing I could dangle in front of the man and work him with and I had no intentions of stopping. Truth be told, I secretly enjoyed it.

I did not fully understand why I liked teasing Lucien Lachance so. At times it would make me felt guilty, wrong and confused. However, those feelings I had to stifle. The Speaker and I had a strange, enjoyable and yet not, powerplay. He still made terrible threats upon my virtue but his words no longer frightened me so. Instead, I took comfort in his inaction. The downside to no longer being fearful was the terrible blush I was cursed with whenever he made a promise. It could not be helped, I knew this but it gave Lucien the wrong impression. Because of this, his newest mantra was, 'You cannot rape the willing'. Again, it was partly my doing. I knew I should stop teasing the assassin but it felt terribly good to do so. It had become a guilty pleasure for both and was the only pleasure that I could know while with Lucien Lachance, as I belonged to another.

Thinking of the Count was something I strove to not do. Thoughts of him often brought me to tears. One moment I was a new and almost confident woman, listening to an assassin of the Dark Brotherhood as he sang my praise while obeying my wishes...the next I was back in Skingrad, awaiting and wanting punishment, just so that it might end quicker, in the hopes that all would return to the norm once finished. I was ashamed of my weakness and utter foolish nature when it came to the man I cared for. It had been pointed out to me now how wrong and off it all was but I never needed another parties validation on that. I knew for some time that all was crooked and dark but I could not help my feelings. The Count of Skingrad had hurt me gravely. He purposely disgraced me. He used my fears to make his poor points...but I cared for him still.

I missed his gentle and caring manner. Going back to the man I left filled me with anxiety. Knowing I would forever be so small and weak to him disturbed me in ways that I could not put to words. The sad truth, something I dared not utter, was that I did not want to return to that man and that weakness. If I could be assured of his compassion, I would merrily run to him. But that could not be. What I returned to was what I would be eternally bound to and I had no say in the matter. It was as the Count had said, unfortunately for me, I was owned.

"Stop that," Lachance said suddenly, startling me out of my brooding stupor. "If I do not constantly pester you, the great tension returns. Can your thoughts not be bleak for more than an hour? It is very unhealthy, Little Countess. This is coming from a murderer, mind you." I shook my head before pressing my cheek again to his broad back. It was true, had Lucien not provoked and prodded me, my mind wandered back to Skingrad, almost impulsively. I wondered what the Count was doing, thinking, feeling...I hoped he was feeling better...Yet a small part of me wanted him to hurt. The realization always discomforted me. "Fine, fret if you feel so inclined. But care to tell?"

I chewed my lip and eyed the slowly brightening forest. I did not want to tell Lachance of my current woes, despite him already knowing. So, in an effort to move from the topic and distract myself and him, I tried a different subject. "I was wondering..." Again I looked about, my gaze soon settling on the mare we rode. "Lucien, where did you find Shadowmere?"

The assassin gave a small laugh, glancing over his shoulder at me. "Not the best evasion...I'll bite. What makes you think she was found?" How the mare ever knew to come and wait by the Cheydinhal gate was a mystery to me. The last time I had seen the great, black horse was as she trotted off into the woods when we first arrived at the city. As we rode, I could not help but grow curious as to how Lachance had obtained her. Being so interested, I continued, thankful for the working distraction.

"Her eyes are red. I doubt she was purchased. She is far too clever as well...almost human." I wrinkled my nose, brow furrowed in thought. The mare responded far too well to be normal. There was certainly something different about her. "Is she magical? A gift?" I persisted, earning a shrug from Lachance.

"You could say that, I suppose." He answered vaguely. Seeing a sudden opportunity to pester him caused me to grin. Effectively stifling my woes and feeling brave, I leaned against him, inching as close to his ear as I could, as Lachance had so often done to me. I could see the appeal of encroaching on another's space...so long as the other person was facing away and preoccupied.

"Mysterious." I dared to echo the assassin, causing him to chuckle.

"How very cheeky..." He commented and I was pleased to hear the smile in his voice. His amusement caused me to feel smug and proud. Again, I could see why Lachance so enjoyed invading another's privacy. I held him tightly, my grin wider than it should have been as I listened to him speak. "I see no harm in telling you but I highly doubt you would believe the tale."

I pouted, intensely curious now as to how he had come across the large mare. "I have yet to catch you in a lie." I began, running my fingers along the fabric of his cloak. "Besides your blatantly false illiteracy, of course. Is this tale really so strange to make me question you?"

"Perhaps," He said, equally evasively as his earlier comment. "If you truly wish to know, I did not find her. It was she who found me." I said nothing, allowing him to continue of his own accord. He eventually did, after a rather long pause. "It happened before I was of the Brotherhood. I was a boy and I desperately needed a horse. Regrettably, the stables proved empty...Then she stepped out from the shadow of the barn. She came from nothingness. We have been together ever since." I frowned at his tale. Unfortunately, I did find the story unbelievable but I knew doubting anything in Tamriel was foolish. There was far too much magic, both dark and light. I would believe him, he had no reason to lie.

"That was fortunate for you." I began nervously, trying to not voice my skepticism. "I assumed she was gifted to you by the Brotherhood."

"Oh, indeed, she was." He said, turning to grin over his shoulder at me once more. "Three days later I was given an invitation by a Speaker that I could not refuse. Here we are now, twenty years into the future. Our meeting was no coincidence." Shadowmere made a soft whickering sound beneath us. I lapsed into thought, imagining a boy Lucien slaying someone. I knew from gossip that the Dark Brotherhood only recruited members who murdered with extreme prejudice. It was more than having the ability to kill, it was to kill and enjoy the death. Lucien being in his thirties now made me realize that he was indeed a boy once taken into the Brotherhood, perhaps no older than thirteen...

"Where were you born?" I ventured, feeling the assassin immediately tense. It was not a little curiosity of where he was from but why he had come to be the way he was. He, of course, the ever perceptive assassin, knew why I was asking and apparently did not appreciate my question.

"Nirn, why?" He replied tartly, causing me to bite my lip.

"I am sorry." I quickly apologized, feeling sheepish for being so obvious. Lucien Lachance knew just about everything there was to know about myself. As such, I was genuinely curious as to his origin. However, my interest was guiltily set on what spurred him to become a Dark Brother. Lachance was skilled, charismatic, attractive and strong. He could and did do anything he wanted. As such, he had the potential to be whatever he desired. Was killing truly so pleasurable to him that he started without a just cause? The idea made me shudder and I pushed the thoughts aside. "I...I am just curious. I am sorry for being so intrusive. I know there is much I am not to discover."

Lachance sighed deeply, his hand coming up to awkwardly pat one of my own that was looped around his front. I still greatly liked his odd ways of comforting and the action made me feel better if no less wrong for my obvious hidden questions. "An estate," Lachance said abruptly, his normal tone returned. "I was born on a very large estate." He cleared his throat then, his body loose once more. "Whereas you were born within the chapel of Dibella. It is only fair that you know my origin as I know yours."

I smiled slightly, happy that he chose to tell me such a thing. Not wanting to keep quiet after his small confession, I decided to attempt to keep us speaking, even if about another topic. "I do not remember telling you that I was born there. Nor did I tell the Count. How do you -"

"How do I know this? I thought it was obvious by now. I have my ways."

I tutted at his playful dismissal. "Alright. Well, do your 'ways' happen to know where we are going?"

"We are off to see a witch, Little Countess. She lives on a small farm called Drakelowe."

XXXX

The Count of Skingrad frowned down upon the letter in his hand. Vicente Valtieri of the Dark Brotherhood was all too quick to respond to his anger, which did please Janus. And of course, the Dark Brother did his best to attempt to assure the Count that the magical hindrance was for the benefit of Abigale Lynn. It was a symbol of protection, he had written. The magical trinket blocked any and all magic to secure the safety of his Family members. Janus still did not appreciate the deception and made his displeasure plain. He wrote to him again and received another much more elusive response.

Janus inquired about his Abigale Lynn. How did she fare? Was she well? Comfortable? Tended? He would admit that the unknown had him tempted to pull his own hair out. With each passing day, he awoke destitute and mournful. He regretted all his actions and loathed his cruelty. His poor behavior was all he could think about. He just desperately wanted and needed his little love home. There was so much inside him that was aching for her companionship. He had become so very empty with her gone and the feeling was startling. The Count did not think there was enough left within him to notice how hollow he had become but since Abigale Lynn had gone, it was all he could feel.

Recently, he had again begun to visit Rona daily, steadily realizing that there was something there still. Something so small but still present. Perhaps he would miss her, in part. She had been his companion for decades and was soon to be no more. It was a jarring truth and the reality of all was as wondrous as it was terrifying. Had Abigale Lynn rejected him he would be alone for eternity. This was an idea he could not handle. The Count had effectively functioned and ruled on his own for half a decade now but he always had Rona, his silent and eternal partner. He could tell her unmoving self of his day, his troubles and hopes. Soon he told her nothing but the silence did not make the soon to be parting any easier.

With Abigale Lynn, he found love and companionship again. It was refreshing to have another responding and functioning person. He longed to speak to her again and hear her pretty voice as she answered him. There was so much Janus wanted to tell her, to confess. He wanted to start anew with his love. Hal-Liurz was right, he needed to show and do selfless good to his Abigale Lynn. He needed her to be able to physically feel and witness how great his affection was. Given time, once she returned, he would.

Janus could knowingly admit that he did not know how to properly woo a woman. Being the heir to the richest and most powerful county in Cyrodiil, he never had to properly learn. Women simply came to him. Then he and Rona were betrothed and wed. He tried to be kind, make them feel beautiful, shower them with little tokens of affection, he wanted to let them know that he appreciated their tenderness...most of the women from his youth liked it, whereas Rona did not.

The Count's mind went over the first time he and Abigale Lynn had been together. His actions had been so driven by desire and want that he had nearly literally hauled her into his bed. He should have simply kissed her all night and spoke of her importance and beauty. He should have doted on his blushing love and verbally expressed his feelings...instead, he stripped her naked and desperately pawed at her every inch before pushing himself into her. He had lost his mind within moments. Perhaps if he had not gone after her body so, she would not have felt like a whore - as she had claimed.

Knowing he had so abused the woman he claimed to care for had him again pacing the floor. There was much that needed to be repaired and undone. Over the last week alone, the Count again felt on and off fear and curiosity. It pained him greatly as he knew all was his doing. He drove his Abigale Lynn away and now, while out, she may feel the desire to explore. This made him angry, however, his guilt was stronger than his rage. Knowing that she was feeling interested in others shamed him. It was his doing. Had he been the man he promised to be she would not have needed to go. Nor would she be shown whatever it was the other man offered that made her blood run hot.

Did he still intend to marry his Abigale Lynn? Certainly. Even if she did something licentious and unthinkable? Without question. She was young and mortal. He loved her, he could forgive her. Gods knew this was all his doing. Of course, he did not truly think his love would act on a little petty desire. Regardless, he could only hope she would understand and not be too angry when he tore the man apart. Whether or not he touched her, he wanted to...and he instilled lustful thoughts in the Count's soon to be bride. As such, he deserved death. It was only just.

Janus shook the thoughts. At present, it was not something that he could deal with. In time, he would. He knew he had hurt his love and she did rightly resent him for his behavior. The Count severely doubted that the murderer she traveled with was as tender or caring to her pains as he. The man no doubt simply wanted his Abigale Lynn for her youth and beauty. Janus felt more fear to the harm this man could possibly inflict. If he somehow did win the favor of Abigale Lynn, he would inevitably hurt her once done. Assassin's of the Dark Brotherhood were not known to be compassionate. He would try to have her and then be finished. This too made Janus impossibly distraught.

The primal part of the Count wanted to stalk off into the night and recover his Abigale Lynn. He wanted to bring her home and keep her safe. Unfortunately, he knew that if he did that, Abigale Lynn would never forgive him. Thus, he was doing his best to not act so rashly. She needed to be free and come back to him, he could not go to collect her, she would not receive him well. It was difficult. Very difficult. The Count needed to gift her this space and once she returned, he had to continue to give her space and time to readjust to their home. She may still resent him but he guiltily looked forward to it. Anything was good, so long as she was back with him and in his arms.

The Count sighed, his pacing finally coming to a pause. The thought of her returning pleased him greatly. The time that had passed had been painfully slow and knowing he had much more to wait filled him with sorrow. Janus wanted to be good but was unsure how he could show this desired goodness. Having been alone for so many years, he knew not how to be so selfish. It was a poor excuse, but it was truth. With another mournful sigh, he glanced about his room. He would give her more say. Abigale Lynn had agreed to his terms for leaving but he wondered now if it was a too much for his little love. Perhaps more time was needed before they wed...although he was unsure if he could wait for it. However, her vampirism could be pushed a few years, if she so desired. Being an eternal child could cause distress. If she wished to be older, he would permit it. It would be her permanent state, after all. She had every right to tailor her preference, he could give her that, at least.

Janus could only imagine her return. He wondered how she would react to him after being away for what felt like so long. He selfishly hoped that all she did was not too stimulating. He did not want her to enjoy her freedom more than his companionship. But Abigale Lynn was gentle and kind. She would not abandon him simply because she preferred the outside world. She would not be so cruel. She would come home to him and if she preferred the freedom...well, it was something they would need to discuss. Together they would find a mutually beneficial solution to whatever it was she desired from outside his Castle. He could always build her a small chateau. If she felt overwhelmed she could vacation there - wherever her desired location was. Perhaps they both could...he decided to look into it.

xxxx

The sun was high in the sky and the air was warm enough for us to remove our cloaks. The land was beautiful, lush and green. We rode along hills and little valleys, a large, crystal clear river ran not far from us. Soon Lucien suggested that we stretch our legs. We dismounted Shadowmere and began to walk. I eyed the tall pines with a bittersweet smile.

Lucien had said that we were off to see a witch. I knew now that the Count desired the cure for vampirism but I knew not to what end. The Count had come to enjoy his unlife, he had told me this himself. Knowing that he wished to grant the Countess peace, I believed the cure was for her but how he hoped to administer it was a mystery to me. I did not think the cure would come in the form of a scroll. Witches were famous for their brews...

"How far away is the witch's cottage?" I asked the assassin at my side, who had been scanning the area with what I thought was excessive scrutiny. Lachance stayed close, fingering the hilt of the sword on his right hip. He had been so absorbed with our surroundings that he completely ignored my question, still staring off into small clumps of brush with a narrowed gaze. I decided to keep quiet and let him do his apparent surveillance without further interruption on my part. Although I did not know what he was searching for, nor why we did not just remount Shadowmere if there was any danger, I would be silent.

Lucien Lachance then grabbed me just as a small bolt of lightning whizzed by my head. No sooner had it passed us did the assassin unsheath his sword. In one fluid motion, he plunged his blade into a nearby shrub, one he had been glaring at. A strange screech emitted from the brush, followed by an abrupt rustling. The assassin grinned and pulled his blade up. A small, gray, winged creature was run through, the tip of Lachance's sword peeking from his chest. "A little imp." The assassin stated proudly, giving his sword a hard shake, causing the creature to again flail before going slack. "And to answer your previous question, we should be there in four hours. Provided we don't meet many more of these."

I only stared at the now very dead creature, still in utter shock as its blood hit the loose earth by Lachance's boot with soft pattering sounds. "A-an imp?" I eventually managed, turning to see the several singed branches where my head had been moments before. Lucien nodded, again at ease with the world. Having yet to remove the imp from his sword, he began to walk on, and I quickly followed after.

"Unfortunately, the valley tends to be thick with them. Their magic is not entirely lethal but it can be brutal. He's been following us for some time. I think he liked your hair, much like myself." The assassin twirled his sword as he walked, watching the limbs on the creature spin with all the curiosity of a child pulling at the legs of an insect. "Hmm, the demon-pixie almost looks like an elf. Winged elves...Perish the thought." Although his morbid curiosity to the being's corpse disturbed me, I tried to stifle my distaste.

"Thank you for...for taking care of it," I mumbled, turning my gaze to the trees. In truth, I did greatly appreciate his swiftness of action. How he knew such a small yet dangerous being was nearby amazed me. His skill was remarkable. My knowledge of imps was not vast, but what I did know was that they were magical creatures that also happened to be fast, sneaky and clever. The way he aptly dispatched the potential menace was astounding. Lachance could not even see the creature as it hid, he simply knew it was there...

My 'thank you' was then met with a devious little laugh. I looked over to the assassin and regretted doing so. He held his sword at his waist, tip pointed to the sky, snickering as the imp slowly slid down his blade. I cringed and longed to look away but found it impossible to do so. "No need to thank me for this. It is my sworn duty to you." His smile broadened as he flipped his sword, causing the corpse to slide in the opposite direction, Lucien's blade now thoroughly crimson. "After all, I should be thanking you. You just gifted me this marvelous source of entertainment."

Trying to be appreciative, I said nothing and continued to walk on mutely. However, after some passing of time, I could no longer bear to watch the dead creature be tossed about so. "He is very much dead," I remarked, trying to avoid the ever twirling imp on the end of the assassin's sword. "Must you continue to play with him?"

Lachance's attention turned to me. Regrettably, the imp followed. He wielded it tauntingly in my direction. "Once it stops being amusing, I shall."

I swallowed hard, watching the imp bob up and down with Lachance's stride. The creature had meant to do us harm, so I was quite happy that it was dealt with. Nevertheless, I did not think his toying with the body anything but cruel. How it so amused him disturbed me. "I-it has been fifteen minutes. How much longer can his little corpse entertain you?"

"Endlessly...?" Lucien answered in question, eyeing me as if I was the one who was off for not thinking such a thing normal. "You do remember what I do for a living, correct? Well, if you remove the wings, imps can look very much like you or I." He gave the creature another twirl. I moved further away on instinct to avoid the wildly flailing limbs. "Only the very smaller versions of us. This is greatly fascinating to me." Lucien continued. His gaze flicked over to mine then, his smile bright but eyes dark and wicked. For obvious reasons, I felt my blood go cold. "If you think this morbid, imagine what I do to the larger version." I paled, causing the assassin to chuckle darkly. Lucien Lachance placed his free hand upon my shoulder and drew me in close as we walked. "Take it in stride, Little Countess. It is how I may protect you better. My blade is yours."

I nodded, hugging myself and leaning away slightly. Much like the Count and Skingrad, I tried my best to not think of Lachance's profession. Ignoring it and seeing him as no more than a skilled fighter helped me to be comfortable around the man. In the light of day, I thought it was easy, as he looked...normal. Strong, handsome, impish in his own nature. When he brought the truth to light, it made me uncomfortable. I did not like to think about it. Instead, I endeavored to stifle the thoughts, focusing on the warm hand that rested on my shoulder.

"Are you yet hungry?" The assassin inquired, his sword low, the imp's legs dragging along the grass and dirt, as though it were walking beside us. My stomach felt particularly uneasy as I watched him, so I shook my head quickly. "Shame. I'll have an apple. Would you be so kind as to retrieve it for me? I am afraid I am quite useless with my right hand."

Thankful for the reason to move away from him, even if slightly, I quickly did as asked and reached into the bag he had slung over his shoulder. "That sounds like an excuse for you to continue playing with your kill."

Lucien scoffed. "You are partly right and partly wrong. I shall have you know that I am lefthanded." As if to make a point, the assassin gave his sword another expert twirl and twist. The corpse of the imp did not survive the display and tore completely down his midsection, slipping over the hilt of Lucien's sword and hand before hitting the ground with a soft plop. "Drat..."

"Remarkable," I said with a smirk, Lachance watching me with equal amusement as we continued on. After some rummaging made difficult by our constant movement, I eventually retrieved a green apple for the assassin. He crudely wiped his blade with a cloth kept in his pocket before sheathing the weapon. Lucien then took the apple with still bloodied fingers, wiping the fruit on his tunic before taking a bite. I found the action useless as more blood had covered the apple rather than dirt. "You have imp blood on your chin..." I said with a frown as the man happily munched away as if all was right in the world.

Lucien shrugged, holding the apple in his teeth as he wiped his hands on his trousers, speaking eventually when finished. "I am certain you can tolerate the sight until we draw closer to the shoreline. I will wash then. It is not as though you have not seen something similar before."

I looked away, pouting. "True. Though it is usually mine."

"Not so long as I am around." Lachance proclaimed, arm returning to wrap around my body as we walked. He offered me his apple, looking apologetic but avoiding my stare. Bloodied or not, I accepted the gesture and took a small bite.

xxxx

Several more hours passed. The sun had already fully set once we finally came to a little cottage in the wood. The cabin was nestled in the trees and overlooked the large river we had followed. A soft fog rolled off of the water that hugged the bend the cabin sat upon. There was a small garden, meticulously tended and thriving, all bordered by a wooden fence. A sweet smelling smoke billowed from the chimney. It was quaint, quiet and oddly welcoming. I frowned at Lucien who had already dismounted Shadowmere, hands quickly going to my waist as he aided me in joining him.

"This is where she lives?" I questioned once at his side, watching as he procured a large purse of gold from one of our travel bags. Lachance eyed me with a quirked brow, his expression knowing.

"Were you expecting skulls and cauldrons in her flower bed? Not so, Little Countess. She wishes to remain undetected. It would be unwise to flaunt her talents." I chewed my lip nervously as I again stared at the inconspicuous little cottage. There was something amiss about the area but I was unsure what it could be. "Do you feel it? Magic. We will approach with caution. And should the witch ask...give her nothing. No hair, spit, nothing." Lucien said sternly, fixing me with an intense stare. I only blinked, curious as to why he would think I would respond to such a disturbing request. "She has wanted to remain secret for a reason. I doubt she will be welcoming. Give her a bit of yourself and we will likely not return, she will do her best to banish us from her land."

Not knowing how to properly answer, I only nodded and followed him to the witch's cabin. With a flick of his wrist, his hood was again up and I followed suit, trailing closer than needed be. With careful and purposeful movements, Lucien opened the makeshift gate and ushered me to his side. Together we approached the door, where he had me stand several paces away before knocking. I thought we should have waited until morning to disturb her but this I did not voice, knowing that Lachance knew best how to handle this situation.

For a moment we stood in silence and I wondered if perhaps the witch was not there. Then, there was a soft rattling and the door creaked open a sliver, a silhouette barely visible through the crack. "Oh my, what brings you to this neck of the woods at such a late hour?" Questioned the figure, her voice sweetly soft. Although I could not see Lucien Lachance, I knew him to be grinning widely.

"We are but humble travelers in search for a woman by the name of Melisande." He said smoothly, beckoning me to come closer, no doubt deeming it 'safe' for me to draw near. The woman looked over Lucien's shoulder and eyed me through the crack of the door.

"Ah, I see. Well, she is me." She muttered, stepping out of sight for a moment. The door then closed, followed by more sounds of locks and latches releasing. When it again opened, an elderly Breton woman in an old gray and brown dress stood in its gap, her apron and hands dirty. She had long white hair and a plump frame. A little smile overtook her features as she turned to Lucien and asked, quite pleasantly, "Marital aids?"

The ever confident assassin faltered before shaking his head carefully. "...No."

"Problems conceiving, then?"

I chewed my lip and watched as Lachance stiffened, his suave manner leaving him slightly as we both remembered our conversation from yesterday. "We are not yet trying."

"Well then, you cannot be too humble, as that is what my 'humble' guests come in search of." She tossed her hair over her shoulder and began to close her door. "And as I am not in the mood to entertain guests of the other spectrum, you had better..." Her eyes turned to me and her actions halted. She stared quietly, examining me with extreme scrutiny. I swallowed hard. "Well now, aren't you a curious child." The witch, Melisande, turned to Lucien. "What is a man of murder doing with a Dibellan marked by Bal?" I froze. "Is she your prisoner?"

"Not mine," Lachance said, his charm again surfacing. My heart hammered in my throat, fear making me take a tentative step back. Bal. Hearing the name on the witch's lips chilled me to my marrow. I watched Lucien and prayed he would not understand. "We come on behalf of the one who 'marked' her. It is a vampire who is her owner. And it is also he who seeks your aid...a cure." The woman's brows knitted together as her gaze went back to me. I remained unmoving, thankful that Lucien misinterpreted her words and hopeful that her curiosity for it would be overlooked.

"What makes you think...oh, nevermind. I might know a thing or two about it." She again looked to me. "I imagine if you're so interested in the cure, it's urgent... and perhaps personal? He said you were 'owned', yes?" Having the woman look at me so intently and address me so easily, knowing secrets that I had never uttered aloud made me witless. I moved to Lucien, nodding mutely and subconsciously took hold of the assassin's arm. The witch watched this with equal interest. "I'd invite you in my dear but I can see you would not come without company." She placed her hands on her hips and took a step back further into her cottage. "So I suppose I must welcome you as well. Mind yourself, young man, and keep those blades away. I may be old but I am in no way feeble or dumb. I know a killer when I see one."

The witch turned and beckoned us into her home. Lucien and I followed. "Thank you for your consideration and understanding." The assassin said with a smirk, not bothering to deny her words. Melisande waved away the comment and pushed a crate and rickety chair by a table, ushering us to sit.

"No need for such pleasantries, assassin. Take a seat." She commanded before setting herself at the head of the table. We complied, albeit hesitantly on my part. I glanced about the little cottage as we sat. Herbs hung drying from the ceiling, a messy bed with moth-eaten blankets sat in the corner by a now dying fire. There were many odd trinkets strewn about but nothing that struck me as sinister. Still, the place felt strange. "I will be frank with you, a cure for vampirism is...Well, it's something I haven't thought about in quite some time. Very challenging, and potentially dangerous." Melisande pursed her lips and gave Lucien a pointed stare. "The vampire who owns her has no inclination about your affections? How very lucky for you, young man. He is a powerful one." Lachance quirked his brow, watching as the woman turned in her chair, retrieving a small stone cup from the chest of drawers behind her. "I have my own interests and they occasionally require resources that are difficult for me to acquire. If you do a little something for me, I'll help you. How does that sound?"

"It weighs heavily upon the favor." Lucien watched the woman carefully as she began to shake her large cup, a loud rattling coming from within. "What is it that you desire...?" The woman stopped her shaking and abruptly poured the contents of the cup out onto the table, revealing colorful stones, shells and other small trinkets. Lucien frowned as he eyed the display with obvious disdain. Melisande leaned over the table, eyeing and prodding the many small objects. "Stop." The assassin shook his head and held a hand up to halt her actions. "Thank you, no. Our fortunes are our own."

"No, they are not. And as part of my demands to aid you in this task, you shall let me glimpse your fates." The witch's eyes turned to me as she toyed with a little wooden figurine. "I am very interested." Lucien Lachance also turned his gaze to me, his usual smirk replaced with a deep frown. With a sigh, he gave a small dismissive nod to the woman, allowing her to continue with her odd readings. The assassin sat back in his chair, looking peeved and uninterested. I was very uncomfortable and not at all pleased with the agreement.

"How very interesting..." The witch continued, squinting at a small black shell that had landed close to Lucien Lachance. He still did not seem the least bit interested. "You are troubled by a deed that took place along the coast." The assassin only quirked his brow as the woman prodded at a smooth blue stone and coarse gray rock, both that had fallen close to Lachance's hand. "Very troubled, apparently. But you are only 'troubled' for its repercussions...not the deed itself. Interesting, indeed." She plucked a small flower charm from the table, looking quizzically at the piece. "Securing your prize will be quite difficult, young man. Unwise too, but well worth it should you succeed. For someone so intelligent, you act rashly with emotion. You always have. This could be your end." She looked knowingly at the still very impassive Lucien Lachance. "In time, your possible hurt could cloud your perspective and you could lose your footing. Many long to see you dead and will take advantage of your vulnerability. You will fall, should you continue to remain idle and be unsuccessful with your pursuits. You will recede into your void." She then looked down at a torn bit of parchment, an ancient and unreadable text to me was written upon it. "Hmm, but there is happiness even if you fail. Unity...Try harder."

"Fascinating," Lucien grunted, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"You are a dark soul. A Bloodthirsty assassin of the Brotherhood. You are corrupt, wicked, devious and perverted. Yet you yearn for the embrace of an understanding flower. You need someone to better you. You enjoy the cold if only to hold another in the hopes of being warm together within it...the reddest maid, so pretty, so sweet. A killer is soon taken. His heart tries to beat." Once the witch concluded her reading, the assassin and I exchanged irked looks before Lachance crossed his arms over his chest.

"A bard, if there ever was one. Beautifully woven and said, with much imagination and enthusiasm, too. I am thoroughly moved." His tone and cruel smile plainly said otherwise. "This little slayer only longs for the tender touch of a sweet girl who strives to change me. Poetic." Lucien folded his hands upon the table. "Now, may we get back to the matter at hand? I would greatly appreciate -"

"Apple seeds."

"...Pardon?"

"Apple seeds. Seeds are to be sown with her." The witch cocked her head in my direction, causing Lachance and I to falter. She then pointed to a rather straight line of little seeds across the table, linking the assassin's spot to my own. "If you are able to do so, they will bear fruit. Forbidden fruit. Be cautious, assassin. It must be handled delicately. You could do more harm than good." Before Lucien could speak, Melisande rubbed her hands together excitedly and turned in her seat to face me. "Your turn, my dearie. Ready?" I swallowed hard and stared at the many scattered objects before me. How Lucien and I suddenly were wrangled into a fortune reading by a witch in the woods was baffling. We had come on behalf of the Count for a cure. This was his business, I saw no reason why the witch wanted to peek into mine. Much like Lucien, I wanted to get back to the matter at hand. I was ready to leave.

"N-no," I began uneasily, shaking my head. "I would rather not know my future, please."

"Nothing is set in stone, little one. Come now, what girl doesn't want to know?" I wanted to further protest and opened my mouth to do so, only to be stopped by Lucien Lachance, who was shaking his head resolutely. I chewed my lip in defeat, supposing it fair for me to suffer through as he had. It was the witch's random request. It had to be done. "Let's see..." She hummed in thought, pouring over the vast assortment of random trinkets. "You are a Dibellan. Poor girl. So much trouble for one so young." Without lifting her head from its position, she pointed over to Lucien. "You have both had similar experiences and damage." I watched the assassin's jaw tighten ever so slightly. "He hides his. You cannot."

I said nothing, shifting my gaze to the floor and allowing her to continue, wondering quietly what Lucien and I had in common about our 'experiences'. "You are coveted by beings both powerful and terrible. Cursed by your own flesh too, poor dearie. But you have those who wish to protect you...men. Many men." The witch recaptured my attention as she leaned over the table and plucked a Septim coin from before me. "A man with two faces. One half loves you deeply, so sweetly and deeply. He longs to keep you forever, desiring your happiness above all things. He will exist to protect and love you. It can be beautiful." She sighed and flipped the coin over in her fingers. "The other half of him knows nothing but ownership and lust. He wants to keep you forever because 'it is his right'. These thoughts can be dark and confusing. He is in pain and that makes everything all the more precarious...do not trust the vampire.

"And for him...oh my. It is mutual." She paused and took another bit from the table, an old stopper from an inkwell. "Of shadow and hood, curiosity stood. His moves of deadly desire." She rolled it in her palm before placing it again in front of me with a smile. "You like him still, you enjoy the thrill, but you know him to be a liar." She nodded to the assassin. "Some things are better left in the past. He has his secrets but his intentions toward you are as 'pure' as he is capable. Pure and raw. It grows too with each passing day. Exciting, is it not? You are torn asunder by this truth." I eyed the blackened stopper with a pout, glancing towards the assassin who only shrugged in response. "It is your nature, dearie. As a Dibellan, you long to explore, to love and be worshiped."

"Perhaps she has a point," Lucien interjected, steadily gaining interest as Melisande jumped from object to object. I could only frown at him.

"There is more here..." She pointed to the apple seeds and other bits. A ring of brass, a garnet, scales, an eggshell, the broken wing of a dragonfly... "Something very dark and unnatural. It is not yet an absolute fate. However, it will come to pass should you agree to do it. The decision is up to you...you wriggled your way out of his danger? This greatly displeased darkness. He does not like to be tricked. He restored your...nest? Yet his vengeance will surpass...dragons...? Odd. I see dragons in your future as well, murderer. You two are very entangled. Woven, actually. You can intertwine or split but even when severed, you meet again...and again...and again...it keeps going."

"Much like this reading." The assassin sighed before plopping the large purse of gold that was hidden in his cloak upon the table. "Again, beautiful and cryptic, just like any fortune should be. However, she and I are now sufficiently uncomfortable and itching to get this done with. Will you help us or no?" Melisande eyed the heavy pouch curiously.

"Soul Gems." The woman said quite randomly, her gaze going back to the many pieces on the table. "If you can bring me five empty Grand Soul Gems, I'm quite sure that I can help you with this cure that you seek." Lucien Lachance pinched the bridge of his nose at the witch's request, finally giving a reluctant nod. "Good. Bring me the Soul Gems I've asked for, and then we'll discuss the cure."

"You want me to shop for you..." Lucien stated, looking thoroughly agitated. She nodded her head, causing the assassin to glare. I could not help but notice that Lucien looked a small bit insulted. I supposed being an assassin and yet asked to purchase goods for a 'quest' could hurt a skilled man's ego. "Very well. It shall be done but can we not discuss the cure now?"

"Oh, dear. That's a shame. I was so looking forward to helping you. Well, I shall be here if you change your mind."

"Fine. Consider it done." Lachance abruptly stood. "We'll take our leave then, now that your demands have been made." He took my hand and pulled me from my seat. "We will return to you as soon as we are able. Good evening." Lucien placed his hand on the small of my back and began to gently push me from the shack.

"Your Father loves you, murderer." The woman called. I turned to see her scooping the little bits back into her cup. "No matter what path you choose, know that your loyalty shall be rewarded. His love for you is eternal." Lucien remained quiet and led us out into the night. I was thankful for the brisk air. All the witch said confused me. I chewed my lip as we moved to a large pine where Shadowmere awaited us. I did not want to speak. We both remained quiet until back on the mare and far away from the witch's cottage.

"Do not entertain her madness." Lucien finally spoke and I found myself rather thankful for his voice. "Witches enjoy theatrics. Pay her no heed."

"She knew things." I pressed my cheek to the assassin's back, frowning deeply. "How could she know? I-I did not like it...It frightened me." Lucien sighed in response to me and we both were silent once more. I tried to forget all the witch had said. Indeed, it was frightening.

The assassin did not speak again until we were much further down the river. "I suppose it was not all bad. There are choices to be made. We simply must choose wisely." Lucien placed his hand over mine as we rode on. "I believe it is all a matter of want, Little Countess. What is it that you want out of your life? Gold? Love? Adventure? Pleasure? Power? There are many things that pull us towards our decisions. What do you desire?"

Again I frowned, much more deeply this time. "I...I have never given it too much thought. Just to be alive, I suppose." I regretted my voice and poor wording as soon as it left my lips.

Lachance made a soft contemplative sound. "Then you have already made your choice, my dear. You must rethink your current proposal..." Lucien applied more pressure to the hand clasped over my own. "Consider mine."

At this, I smiled bitterly and shook my head. "Your proposal to sleep with me in the hopes that I become pregnant with your child and undesirable to the Count?" I scoffed while shifting myself against the assassin. My cheeks that had been already pink from the cold turned a darker shade at the thought. Only Lucien Lachance would think of such a thing. "Besides the obvious flaw -"

"Sleep with you..." Lucien suddenly interrupted, quoting me directly and sounding thoughtful. "No 'rape' implied, hmm?" I sighed in exasperation, strangely thankful for the normal perverse nature of our discourse. Happiness seemed far too temporary for me. With my rogue protector, I found small joy in our usual odd back and forth. "We shall make camp soon. We can either sleep or work on our destiny. The witch did say much about us entangling..." Again I shook my head, moving forward to newly embrace the assassin's back. I closed my eyes, pleased with his grotesque normalcy.

"Sleeping with you sounds marvelous. Sleep, being the key activity, Lucien."

XXXX

Abigale Lynn proved more useful than he had anticipated while setting up camp. The small tent would keep them from any possible rain and happened to be quite roomy, as far as tents were considered. With magic, he started a small fire, watching as the girl quickly crouched down beside it and him, turning over to eye their shelter, smiling at their handiwork. "Do you need to camp often? We did that rather quickly." Lucien smiled at the girl who presently entertained all of his current whims. She needed to keep her mind and hands busy. They both did.

"I do. I much prefer it to an inn." He said, leaning back to stare up at the black, cloudless sky.

"You are good with your hands." She remarked innocently, now eyeing the small firepit before them with apparent appreciation. But as though sensing his path of thought, which quickly went exceptionally wicked, the girl looked up nervously and blushed. Lucien could not help but smirk. "Are you really left handed?" She inquired fast, hoping to change the topic before it became uncomfortable.

Lucien patted the scabbard on his right hip, still grinning ear to ear. "I am." Abigale Lynn nodded, swallowing hard as her eyes traveled the leather casing. "Breathe, my dear lady. My blade is yours. The bite is for your enemies." She nodded again before standing. Lachance watched as she hugged herself and walked towards a large tree. Lucien could not help but laugh at her behavior. Abigale Lynn reacted the same way to his blades as she did his robes. Regardless, the assassin hoped to entice her back to him. "Any particular reason why you just ran from me this time?" He asked, knowing fully well of her fear. The girl shrugged and walked around the tree, much like she had done on their journey to Cheydinhal together. "Little Countess," Lucien called lightly, slowly standing and making his way forward. "I do so hate being ignored..."

"I am thinking." She finally answered, sounding tired and a tad annoyed. Most, if not all of the assassin's merriment left him. He loathed her sorrow for many different reasons. Primarily, it made him feel uncomfortable. He did not like it. Also knowing that her Master was constantly lingering in her thoughts made him envious...

"More depressing topics? Slavery? Your Count?" The Speaker scowled, happy that the girl could not presently see his face as it greatly betrayed him. He sought to correct his expression.

"I think of him often." Abigale Lynn responded softly, the pain in her voice audible. "The witch spoke truthfully. I am torn asunder. But...but I was not thinking of him, this time." Lucien rounded the tree, meeting the girl on the other side who met his stare evenly, eyes shining brightly. It was hard not to think of her beauty. It constantly surrounded him. She was like a gift from the Dread Father, neatly wrapped and in need of opening. He often grew excited while looking at her or speaking to her...excitment that was not always of sexual nature but of genuine childlike curiosity. He liked to poke her, watch her react, recover and regard. He had learned much about the girl in the time they had spent together and she continued to surprise him. He did not think Abigale Lynn to be capable of disappointing his interest.

"No?" The assassin too leaned against the bark, trying to read her strange expression. How he so loved her expressions. Her eyes were like endless pools of emerald, reflecting him in the strangest of ways. "What were you thinking of then?"

"You." She replied all too casually, causing Lachance to pause. Abigale Lynn turned again to stare up at the stars and tree branches. Lucien watched with strong interest. "I feel that I am supposed to hate you. For so long, I thought I did...Why do I not?" She looked to Lucien as though he had the answer for her but kept it hidden. Abigale Lynn only stared peculiarly as the assassin moved closer.

"Because my actions towards you are no longer so sinister in comparison to what you have gone through," Lachance answered carefully, concealing his distaste for her predicament. The young woman watched him intensely, her full lips pulled into a little pout. "You have convinced yourself that you are deserving of your Count's persecution. It is the only reason why you deem your Count's cruelty just. You would hate him, were you not owned."

Abigale Lynn swallowed hard and turned to face Lucien fully. "Spoken eloquently from one who hopes to pull me from him." She said firmly, her gaze locking onto his.

"You asked, I answered." Lachance moved closer still. "If there are other reasons you do not hate me, I would like to hear of them." She shook her head, a bitter smile playing along her lips.

"I am not trying to stroke your ego. I merely want to understand." The girl placed several stray strands behind her ear, her face fixed in thought. "Do you think the witch was true? Are we woven...and why?" Lucien thought she looked rather pale under the moon. Beautifully pale. She inclined her head to him and he eyed her white throat. He could easily imagine two red punctures there and he regrettably saw the appeal. Imagining a small streak of crimson flowing from a little wound on her nape was becoming. Much like Skyrim and the glistening crimson on fields of white, it was an alluring visage...so long as her wounds were not fatal and he was the one to make them.

"Sithis knows, my dear, not I." He said with a smirk, wondering if the girl actually enjoyed bloodplay in bed. Lucien tried not to bring his work to his sheets but if that was what she liked, he supposed he could accommodate her, at least every now and then.

Abigale Lynn watched his eyes roam her and took a small step closer, her face defiant. She was becoming brave... "How are our experiences similar? You said once that you could relate to me, now the witch -"

His entertaining thoughts quickly fled and he fought the frown that almost broke free. "That is not something I wish to discuss," Lucien said firmly and dismissively, arms quickly folding over his chest. No, that was certainly not something he wanted to discuss. She paid closer attention to his words than he initially thought.

"Then why do you want my freedom so?" She continued, also crossing her arms, her expression mirroring his. The assassin found her forced courage amusing. It was obvious how uncomfortable she felt while standing her ground. She toppled quickly too. "Please, I feel as though it runs deeper than your desire for me."

"Deeper?" He teased. "You do me too much honor."

"Won't you tell me?" Abigale Lynn near pleaded, her hands falling to her sides, her eyes searching his. Lachance only smiled without humor in response, permitting her stare. For once, he did not like her begging, not when on such a poor topic. His grin turned challenging and the intimidation worked. Lucien watched her quickly give in to his silence and expression. She bowed her head in defeat and the assassin felt shamefully relieved. "I am sorry. I will not ask again."

"You apologize far too much." He began, tactfully turning the topic. Not wanting to speak to the top of her head, he took her chin and pulled her gaze back to his own. "Have you always been so contrite? It is not a redeeming quality...at least, not to me." She only pouted at him in response, her stare wandering his features, still searching for something. He chuckled at her blatant scrutiny. "Yes, Little Countess? Please, tell me what it is that you so wish to know now. Your eyes are still dancing with questions."

"Besides the obvious?" She began carefully. "Well, I would like to know what you want from me. Your motive, your goal..."

"My motive," Lucien began, bringing himself to the girl as close as he dared to allow without further consent. "I have many. My goal depends on your choice." Abigale Lynn made a little face in thought as she continued to stare silently at the assassin. Her eyes continued to search him, taking in his features with many questions still plain.

"My choice towards what?" She finally managed. "I have no power to choose. You know this."

"I know that it is false." Lucien corrected, causing Abigale Lynn to shake her head solemnly. "Try to entertain freedom. Are you not yet capable?"

The girl scoffed, her glare shifting to the woods. "I was free once, I do not wish to know it again. There is only pain and uncertainty by freedom. The man you so condemn for his ownership of me happens to be the only reason why I draw breath before you now." Her gaze softened, her arms wrapping around her body at her own thoughts. "You may hate him but he is why I live. If not for his ownership, I would not have survived much longer." She continued to look away, frown replaced with a look of absolute depletion. "I am not strong or cunning. I have nothing to trade and no skills to speak for. Survival for me is to cling to another and hope they know what is best for me, as I know not."

Lachance could not help but scoff, watching the girl with avid interest. "What a poor way to live." He commented with his normal black humor, watching as Abigale Lynn gave a little nod in agreement. Lucien sighed at her lack of usual fire. "I know you to be brave, stubborn and resilient." He began, attempting to be thoughtful. The look on the young woman's face clearly said she was unconvinced. He smiled and continued, the hand upon her cheek slipping to her shoulder. "Clever too, if not hesitant to act on your cleverness. Be quicker, Little Countess. You question yourself so...You are also an asset to happiness." His mind traveled back to the week prior and to the misguided kiss she did not remember giving. He eyed her mouth, thinking now to be more than an appropriate time to show the girl he meant well...until his gaze settled upon her amulet.

"An asset to happiness?" She echoed, looking a small bit amused by his confession, not reprimanding him for inching even nearer. "I should think I am more of an annoyance to you. A pest to your very mysterious and dark existence." The assassin ignored her words and playful jest and instead reached up to again hold her face in his hand.

"I suppose in a small way I am thankful for your Count." Lucien mused aloud, examining her features carefully, almost as though inspecting the girl he held. "He helped you in your darkest hour. Life alone can be cruel and difficult, but such is life. Now, though, it is time to let you go so that you may choose your own fate. Fear of what can be should not tailor your life. You cannot live in fear, protected by a shadow of someone who claims your best interest." Abigale Lynn swallowed hard, looking bewildered and troubled, the assassin's words discomforted her greatly. "Your show of gratitude should not entitle him to your existence. Nor should it force a ring on your finger, whether you care for him or not. He cannot keep you, my dear. You are a woman, and not a trinket to be owned... How can you both not see this?"

As his words sank in, the girl only stared, conflicted and desperate. She wanted to counter him yet no words came. Her eyes turned glassy but she did not weep, she only continued to stare, on the cusp of agreement and denial. Lucien Lachance leaned forward, almost as though mindlessly drawn in and was pleased that the girl did not pull back. She closed her eyes and remained unmoving for him. His mouth touched hers, the lightest of brushes to her parted lips. He lingered there for a moment, the feeling was indescribable... But Abigale Lynn only sucked in a breath and turned her head away before the action could even be called a kiss.

"N-no..." She stammered, shaking her head, her cheeks a bright scarlet and eyes still shining with unshed tears. Abigale Lynn stepped away. "Don't make me. I-I cannot."

"You can." Lucien countered, his voice laced with audible frustration. She only shook her head once more, causing the assassin to scowl and grab her hand, if only to keep her from running off into the wood. "You know that you can." Abigale Lynn looked away, one stray tear finally falling as she pulled her hand from his. Lachance could not understand her loyalty to a man who had almost claimed her life and was set on her demise once she returned to him, regardless. The Count of Skingrad was anything but merciful towards her but the girl still remained firm in her bondage.

"I do..." She suddenly agreed, hastily wiping her tears before turning to face the assassin fully. "I am sorry...but I am not yet ready for you..."

Lucien paused and then took in a very deep breath, only daring to release it once some of his tension had abated. Not yet ready...it was not a refusal, but a hold. Despite the Speaker wanting very much to move further with the girl, he found himself lifted in spite of her current denial. It would not always be so. She was finally seeing through the nonsense that was woven and constructed around Skingrad. He could and would wait longer. Although her constant teasing rejection was frustrating, this felt very different. The entire approach was not stemmed from a lighthearted sexual suggestion but something 'deeper' - as she would say. In this, he felt joy. However, 'no' was still very much a no...

"Then I shall wait." Lachance said with a small bow before turning away from Abigale Lynn, marching purposely into the forest.

For a moment, the girl only watched him curiously. Upon realization that Lachance was leaving the camp, she felt a flicker of fear and exasperation. "W-where are you going?" She asked his back, afraid to follow and stay put.

"Not far," The assassin answered, patting his large, black mare in passing. "I will be gone an hour at the latest. Shadowmere will keep you safe. She is more capable than most...go to bed, I'll join you soon." His horse was quick to stand with Abigale Lynn, moving purposely to her side.

"But Lucien, where are you going?" The girl called, inching closer to the fire and her current Dark guardian.

Lucien sighed, feeling quite incapable of ignoring Abigale Lynn once she said his name. "Do you really want to know?" He dared, watching as she gave a feeble nod in agreement, her fingers tentatively running through Shadowmere's mane. "I grow restless. As does my blade." He said easily, honestly, witnessing the flushed girl pale in a matter of seconds. "All this tension is excessive and needs to be exerted...I think perhaps I should find a random stranger to murder. Practice does make perfect." Abigale Lynn chewed her lip and continued to stare, eyes much wider than her norm, a feat to achieve. The murderer gave a little dismissive shrug and smile. "You wished to know, my dear. Rest well."

---

Author's Notes: Zero proofing again! Did you think there was gonna be a sexy scene here? Nope! Imp gore! 8D Sorry all! XD Anywho, I try to get these up so quick! I hope the quality doesn't suffer too much. At least this chapter was fun for me... XD Enjoy...? 8D