Hey Guys! First off I want to say thank you so much to the people that reviewed last chapter. It is thanks to you that this chapter is possible.
As always, I own nothing and Share the AU with Emygrl99.
Beta'd by the wonderful PsychoTriton. Enjoy!~
A minute passed. And pretty soon that minute turned into three, five, twelve. It was madness. It was a Hell she was forced to endure, hunched against the door simply waiting until the sentence came. But it never arrived and Izo was unsure of what exactly to make about that.
Slowly, Izo turned her head to the side, half expecting to see the pair of shoes there, but they weren't beside or next to her. They were instead discarded to the side of the room and their owner was nowhere within her line of sight. Hesitantly, Izo righted her head and turned her body to face the rest of the room only to pull back and press herself fully against the door once more.
She had not expected the man to be right before her, sitting cross-legged a mere two feet away from her with a smile on his face.
Izo's eyes only got as far as his smile before they fell once more to the floor, avoiding eye contact as she was trained to do. Eye contact was one of the many things she was never to do, she was inferior to them. Izo was nothing more than a means to entertainment, a tool and walking sustenance, she was insignificant in everything else, she was not a person in their eyes, and for that, she could never look them in the eyes. Not that she wanted to... she had made that mistake but once upon her arrival in the castle, and it was not an experience she wanted to relive. The eyes of the Count had been a thing of nightmares, swallowed in black and veined, swelled with hunger and vacant in its regard for life.
Izo counted her breaths, regulated her pulse, and clenched her shaking palms in the folds of her skirts, returning to her game of anxiously waiting for something to happen. It was not the first time she had been taken into a room, torn away from the harp on a whim. And it certainly was not the first time she was forced to wait out the inevitable.
Izo had fallen for the act the first time, she had been locked with one of the monsters, sat down and left alone for a few minutes before she was taught that there was no reprieve from her reality. After that night, she had never dared to hope things would change.
And while it was true that this man had spared her from the wrath of the head butler, Izo was beginning to wish he hadn't. The strikes of the wooden rod were a much more welcome routine than that which happened in their chambers. At least when she was beatens he knew what she would receive, bruises and a cracked or broken rib. When she was whisked away, there was no telling what terrors she would face. Some only craved her blood. Others entertainment that ranged from carnal pleasures to more creative methods that included torture until they either bored of her company or she lost so much blood she was robbed of consciousness.
"Are you alright, my dear?" the man asked and Izo's hands closed tighter around the fabric in her lap. The tone of the stranger was odd, new and unknown to her. Was this his game? To be pleasant before he had his way with her?
Izo didn't know. Instead she remained where she was, honey gold eyes trained on the space between them.
Izo knew that words spent on her were nothing more than a false promise. How many times had she been a victim of naive stupidity, where a seemingly kind gesture would earn her a worse hand? Too many to count.
A few seconds later proved that her continued silence was enough of an answer for the other man. "I see. Well if you're wondering what's gonna happen next you don't have to. I do have half a mind to look over your cuts and bruises, but I won't do that without your okay... are you hungry?"
When she didn't answer, the man sighed. "Tell you what I'll just whip us up something real quick, I wasn't allowed a room with a kitchen so I'm afraid we'll have to deal with tea and sweets. I was saving these caramelized treats for Fossa, but I'm sure he will understand." the man continued to talk as he stood and moved around, pulling items from everywhere in the room.
Soon enough the man was back, and between them he had placed a mat where a tiny burner was set up and a small kettle was being prepared.
Izo watched as the man brought and nurtured a small flame to life and that was where her focus settled next, on the small dancing tear of fire.
There were other things going on around that fire after it was lit as well, the steady hands added water to the kettle and then the dried leaves to the mixture for them to boil. Then he began to produce small samples of the sweets he had spoken of.
"Ah, that's right I even got Marco's pineapple strawberry cake around here somewhere," he said with a snap of his fingers that he immediately apologized for when Izo jumped yet again.
"Sorry, sorry it's a bad habit I know. I didn't mean anything by it okay… It's not a command or anything or, honestly it's just a tick I do whenever I remember something I hadn't a second ago. So, ahh." the man trailed off and sighed.
"You know this would all go over easier if you spoke… You can speak right, they didn't... " his voice sounded hurt and sullen, "they didn't take your tongue, did they?" Izo could hear the unmistakable tone of barely restrained anger underneath.
Izo immediately shook her head in response falling to the conclusion that this man would be upset otherwise-he wouldnt be the first not last to ask her to use her tongue after all.
Instead of the cruel laugh she expected though, Izo received a relieved sigh much to her growing confusion.
"That's good news at least." he offered, his tone rising in spirits from a few moments ago.
The two lapsed into silence once again, and as before, he was the one to break it.
An exaggerated gasp was given as she felt more than saw him lean forward, eagerly so, from his seated position. "And where in the pot are my manners? I'm sorry in between being captivated by your song and telling you my tales of the north I completely forgot to introduce myself. I'm usually not this dense no matter what that bird brain might tell you." the man advised. And Izo could practically feel the smile blossom on his face. "My names Thatch Newgate, would I be overstepping my boundaries by asking yours?"
Thatch Newgate.
The name engraved itself into the back of her mind and Izo found herself… confused. Why was he so readily handing over his name own name to her, a clear insignificant slave? Since when did they care about her knowing their name? And more importantly why on earth did he care what she was called?
The silence ticked away between them and the man sighed, jerking Izo's attention over to him, but instead of finding a scowl on his lips, the man was smiling sadly.
"What was I thinking," The man–Thatch–chided himself and let out a soft sigh, "Of course I would be, just look at you, you're probably scared out of your mind right now."
Izo didn't object to that, and he continued, "I want to let you know that I don't want to harm you, but why would you believe me right?" he mused resting back from his earlier posture. "The way that you shy away and flinch to most every movement suggests that you are no stranger to this."
Izo didn't need to be told was exactly this was referring to, she knew without a doubt that he was talking about her imprisonment and to an extent about her existence, but again, she neither denied nor confirmed his words.
What exactly was his game? Izo's brain scrambled to figure out some sort of explanation to this behavior. Since her arrival she had been familiarized with anger, disappointment, discipline and everything in between. But never since the days of her youth had Izo recalled this feeling of what exactly?
Such times and feelings had been lost and corroded to the hands of time. Smiles have never been genuine here, intentions never good and absolutely nothing was done for her benefit, Izo was replaceable a mere slave amongst millions. And yet… why was she saddened by these thoughts she knew with every fiber of her being to be as true as could be?
Izo wanted to leave, she wanted to head back to her quarters or even the main ballroom and play her harp in order to gain forgiveness from the Count. But she was also sure that if she attempted either option, then the man before her would strike her where she was and her fate would be sealed.
"I understand that I have nothing else to offer you but my word..." Thatch interrupted her thoughts once more. "But I hope that you believe I have no intentions to hurt you in any way, I just wanted to… apologize."
'For what?' the thought came immediately to Izo's mind though she dared not voice it, along with the rest of the turmoil in her mind.
Thatch opened his mouth to speak, but didn't get the chance to do so when the pot came to its boiling point and announced that the tea was ready.
The whistling seemed to snap something in Izo and she moved automatically, skilled hands took a hold of the wooden handle on the kettle and she filled the two cups, ever mindful that his was to be filled first and her second to a much lesser degree.
"Come now, you're my guest." The man said with a pout and sighed softly. "I'm the one that is supposed to be treating you, now please set that down and have a caramel cake, or would you prefer the strawberry pineapple one?" He asked nudging one of the pastries her way after successfully taking the kettle from her hands and setting it aside, out of her reach.
"I have a brother." he began after a moment, producing yet another pastry from the bag at his side. "He absolutely loves these things, strawberry pineapple cakes, but no one back where I'm from knows how to make them. So I figured, since I am all the way out here I could get him one, but as a bonus, because I am the best brother in the world; I also learned how to make them so please don't worry. He will have his treat weather we take this one apart or not." Thatch reassured her and offered over a slice of the beautiful cake.
Izo didn't move though, she remained seated before him and at war with herself. It took her a long while to recognize the foreign feelings that she was experiencing through the anticipation and dread.
It was a small flicker of hope that she had long ago thought she would never be capable of harboring amongst these monsters. But here she was. Possibly in the worst situation of her life with no escape, and still she found that a small tiny, minuscule part of her wanted to clutch at this feeling and never let it go.
She wanted very much to believe in the man's kindness, to believe that he was in fact there for a different reason other than terrorize her, but she couldn't. Izo could not believe that someone could be kind to her.
A frown brought his smile down, but Izo didn't dare look at his eyes to confirm if it was due to sadness and anger.
"It's that bad, isn't it." he whispered and Izo, of course, said nothing.
"How long have you been here?" he asked softly.
Silence was his answer.
"I see." Thatch noted under his breath in a way that she found unreadable but before she could take further time to get a hold of the situation, the man moved. Thatch took a stand so fast she barely saw it. A moment later he was before her again, a bowl set between them amongst other things she didn't take too long to identify; the pastries and tea forgotten in the background.
Izo froze in her spot, eyes trained waveringly on the tea as the endless possibilities of what was about to happen raced through her mind. Yes she knew what the purpose of the tools by his side were, but still she could not shake the dread.
No one in the world was kind without a purpose, why would this man, this vampire be any different?
In between her thoughts and growing anxiety, Izo had not taken notice that she had closed her eyes instinctively, her body preparing itself to receive whatever was to come her way, but none what she imagined happened.
Where she was expecting some sort of backlash to not accepting his offered treats and tea, she was met instead by a warm wet cloth on her cheek. Izo, surprisingly, didn't flinch that time; too taken aback by the gesture to do anything but remain still.
Thatch worked silently, gently removing the layered rice powder off of her face, and Izo dared not open her eyes. Afraid of what she might see if she did. Why was he removing the one mask that she had? The mask that the Count required her to wear? Who was this man and why was he breaking every rule that she knew to be true? Why was he defying every part of her existence? Why was he–
Izo's whirlwind of thoughts came to an abrupt stop as his voice came to her again, low and alluring as it had been in the ballroom. "I meant what I said before, I'm not going to hurt you, I am not like them… and I meant it when I said I wanted to apologize. I can't even begin to imagine what the castle has been like since your arrival." he whispered and Izo closed her eyes tighter. She shut her eyes against the unwanted images of her time there as they surged and fought to bubble to the surface of her mind.
But the stranger didn't allow that to happen because what he said next shattered every little thing that Izo believed to be true. "You can leave here if you want, would you like that?"
Honey gold eyes met his for the first time, she found herself staring into two twin pools of warm forest green.
Izo lay huddled in the cot she called a bed, unsure of just how she had returned to the small space that equated to her room. Her face was liberated from the many layers of makeup she wore, and her torso as well as arms and fingers were bandaged up.
She had no idea how much time had lapsed between her meeting with the foreign stranger and to her awakening, but Izo had no time to ponder that. She rose from her bed, wincing when she was greeted with the pain from the blow she had received in the ballroom, but she had no time to indulge in her dilemma.
Izo had to figure out what time it was and her duties for that particular hour. But first she had to make herself look presentable, she had to place on her mask for her masters to see.
'Would you like that?' the words were like something out of a daydream, something that simply couldn't be real, and yet why did she yearn for them to become reality.
Izo's trembling hand stilled on her jaw as a phantom caress trailed down her painted cheek. The mirror before her reflected back her sorrow, and revealed that the caress was nothing more than a tear rolling down her face. Izo was crying for the second time in a matter of hours and she could not stop the tears from coming, ruining the strokes of paint she had applied.
Angry swipes tried to stop the tears, but they continued to flow with no end in sight and that alone made Izo even more distressed. Years upon years of servitude, anger, sadness, loathing, blatant torture, degradation and humiliation rushed at her and all she could do was let out a choked sob.
She couldn't answer the voice in her head, she was afraid to answer, terrified to even consider the possibility that there could be kindness in the world.
Izo remained as she was, releasing her emotions until she was left empty again, she cried until she convinced herself that it was nothing more than a cruel lie made up by the beautiful foreigner. A horrible trick that Thatch was playing on her to make her slip up, and with that in mind she cleaned her face of its impurities and placed her mask on once again.
"And is that the only reason you have returned?" The Count asked with disdain marring his features as he looked down upon the young man before him.
Thatch in turn lifted his hands appeasingly, "That is the main reason, to tell you the truth, I never thought I would have set foot in this castle again, and yet here we are."
The count laughed, a laugh that brought nothing more than unpleasant memories to Thatch's mind, but he said nothing, letting the older vampire get the sentiment off of his chest. "Aye, here we are, with you suggesting words of peace and moving in on my territory like you own the place, boy. Tell Newgate that he can take his proposal and shove it up his fucking ass. We have been in this war for longer than you have been alive, and it will continue long into the centuries after your death until the moment vampires reign supreme and humans admit they are nothing more than trash underneath our feet. What makes him think that we will ever return to the days of the old, eh? Does he think he can change the outcome of this war by demanding me to surrender the slaves that I have bought?"
"Humans are hunting us exactly for this reason, to prove to us that we are not their superiors, and that they have every right to live as we do. How many of your untrained men have you lost in the last ten years alone? Fifty or perhaps it's higher than that, seventy-three if Marco's research is up to date. We can not hope to see the next few centuries this way, not when the rate of blood born vampires is steadily declining. The world has come to the realization that we can not return to the year of peace between human and vampire, but by subjecting them to slavery and dehumanizing them, there will be no good outcome for us. Surely you realize that humans outnumber vampires at the very least 20 to one if not more, and turning them does not actually guarantee their loyalties, if anything that only causes more problems." Thatch argued taking a step forward in the direction of the Count.
The older vampire merely scoffed, "That filth has always outnumbered us, the problem arose when they decided to get cocky. If we back down now we will be letting them believe that they have some hold over us, give them a false sense of power that they truly do not have. Humans are like children you see, the more lenient you are with them, the higher your chances you have of raising ungrateful disappointments."
Thatch's eyes darkened minutely, before he regained his easy smile and shrugged, "Well if you want to put it that way and use parent-child analogies, then shouldn't we as the 'superior' race take on the role as parents and lead by example?"
"My answer is no, boy. My property is mine alone to do as I please, and I do suggest you keep in mind that I will not let another of tonight's transgressions slide again. Out of a welcoming gesture I allowed that little harlot to be taken from it's playing, by all means enjoy the human as you see fit, but remember who it belongs to, and do not forget your place here boy, what little of it you have left."
And this was where the plot began to thicken, seriously this was supposed to be a little 7 to 10k add on to Izo's past, but whoops my hands fucked the keyboard all over and welp.
Anywho, to the two reviewers I was unable to reply to:
Guest: I will try to make as many scenes as I can in Thatch's POV, but some of his things [motives/thoughts/etc] I need to keep under wraps so his won't be as frequent as Izo's. As the story goes on though and a few things are revealed he will have more POV's I think ^^;
Brokin2: Yes, Izo has been hurt rather extensively. She no longer knows the meaning behind kindness and as you can see she's really struggling with the entire concept that revolves it. So right now she is highly wary of Thatch and his intentions.
I'm glad to hear that you guys are enjoying it. Please let me know your thoughts? Or predictions, what do you think will happen next? Hope to hear from more of you!
Thank you guys for the favorites, follows, and specially the reviews! Till next time!~