(9,980 words) Done! Finally! I wrote this a week or two ago but there was beta problems. There was this person I was using as a beta but they had computer problems so I gave the DOCxs to my old beta since she didn't have any problems and had free time but all the DOCXs were there for a while so I gave them to my sister. She completed five over the weekend. My beta finished the first one in that time. That's what my sister is like for you, she's read fourty chapters of Full metal Alchemist in a day once...she's kinda crazy. I've decided that my sister will be my beta now, it's handy because we're usually in the same room as she's editing and she's plainly just good at it. She went a little nuts while editing this and I got distracted while going through it so there may be some mistakes near the end. It's pretty damn long though.

I tried to put as much in this as I could because nothing is happening in Fang's part of the story and I didn't want to make people wait. Some parts didn't want to be written so they ended up kinda blaugh (as my sister put it). We tried to fix those up.

Enjoy,

Dance against the wind

Chapter 13: Like poison

Claire awoke mid-morning to an unfamiliar environment. She shielded her eyes against the bright rays of sunlight that slipped in between the curtains till they adjusted to the room around her. It was a small room with a bed in the middle and an elaborate wardrobe up against the wall on its left. There were two windows on the wall at the foot of the bed and two on the left. On the right wall stood the door.

After that terrible night, Yaag had brought her here. It wasn't his house, but rather his sickly father's. The old man was being cared for by Yaag's mother, who Claire had observed to be delirious with the belief the old man would survive his sickness. For her, it'd only taken one look at the man to know he wouldn't last the month.

Yaag's parents owned a large and grand house, not as grand as her father's had been, but still extravagant. This was something she couldn't care less for, that house was gone anyway, what did it matter? Yaag intended to move north, so he saw no point in buying a house in Oerba or any neighbouring town or city. It'd just be a waste of money, as he'd already said to her three times before.

Claire had been here for three nights already, spending the greater portions of the day sleeping. She'd felt exhausted physically for the first two nights, and remained mentally exhausted still. She reckoned she'd stay this way if she'd stayed near either Yaag or his delirious mother any more. Yaag was an irritating man who believed he could get her to do anything he wanted her to do. She decided that he must really be bored, and that maybe he'd tire of having someone who'd constantly agree with him, that maybe he needed the clashes to keep things interesting for him. Or perhaps he was just a madman. Either one.

His mother mentioned to her one night about how he was trying to regain the money his father had lost, so their family could be as rich as they once were. Going down that same path, the woman also commented on the shockingly large amount of money Claire's own father owned. Hearing this, it made her wonder if Yaag wasn't in fact mad, but incredibly greedy. So much so that he'd put up with the rude oddity that was her just so one day he could get her father's money. After all while she was the eldest, she was also a woman, meaning that if he was her husband he would get her father's money in her place. It made her hope her father's mind worked differently to Yaag's; she hated the idea of that despicable man getting her father's hard earned cash. In the end she had trouble figuring out whether he was a greedy man or a mad man, so for now she put it down that he was a balance of both.

His mother was almost equally as irritating. She was a deluded moron; she believed her son was an angel and that her dying husband had many long years still to go. But simply put, 1# her son was an evil bastard and 2# her husband was on his death bed whether she liked it or not. The woman was worse than her mother it began to seem, so she avoided her best she could, only encountering her during meal times, which she'd so far been forced to attend.

Claire pulled herself up into a sitting position on the bed, and stared tiredly at her bandaged arms. The injuries she'd managed to get herself in the woods that night had been worse than she'd originally thought. Though they had stopped bleeding by the time Sazh had found her and woke her up, they were still horrible wounds and could easily open up again. That was why the bandages were there, just in case. Her arms and legs were completely covered in them. There was also some on her abdomen around a particularly nasty wound. She had bruises dotting her chest and neck, and a few marks on her cheek where Yaag had slapped her, but they were fading.

Yaag said they'd stay and wait for them to heal, since he claimed he didn't want to marry someone who looked like such a horrific mess. She was glad for it, since it put off the time when she would be completely stuck with him; she just wished it'd take longer. At least some would scar, then maybe he'd want to spend less time with her. She took him as someone who'd be obsessed with appearances. She was to be stuck in his crazy mother's house until they were all healed, then there'd be the wedding, and then she'd be forced to move north with him. She hated the idea, but it was better than it being her fault that some innocent child had gotten shot, she couldn't have let that boy's blood be on her hands.

She was about to lean back and let sleep overtake her again before she'd be forced to join Yaag and his nut case of a mother for lunch, when she heard the adjacent door creak open. She would have been shocked to see Butterfly standing at her doorway, if she had not been told how Yaag's mother had let some of her father's slave's stay here. She claimed that they needed extra help, but what she really wanted was company. Most of the slaves were the other women who survived that night, as Yaag had sold off the men for high prices to other rich folk in and around Oerba. This was the first time she'd seen Butterfly here, she thought for sure she would have made them let her stay with her father, who had been sold to a wealthy family on the edge of Oerba.

"Butterfly!?"

The teenager smiled and stepped into the room. It was at this point that Claire noticed the child standing next to her, clinging to her side. The very child she had saved three days ago. Butterfly let out a tiny giggle before explaining what she was doing here.

"Dajh here said he wanted to thank you for what you did, since he hadn't gotten the chance yet. But his daddy's been scared to let him out of his sight. So this is the first time he's been able to, and it's only because I've been looking after him. Sazh says I'm nice, so he'll trust me for at least a little while." In the time she explained this Dajh ran from her grasp and hoped up onto the bed with Claire and hugged her side grinning broadly and happily exclaiming:

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

Claire tried to return the smile, but only managed a half-hearted excuse for one. She had saved his life, but for her it had paid a steep price. She didn't dare let the thought escape her, but she was scared. Yaag was a violent man, this he had already demonstrated. And mighty greedy to add to it, he'd already sold 16 slaves to different families in only three days, at a ridiculously high price too.

Butterfly sat at the end of the bed, fiddling with the blankets. "Are you sacred, even just a little? Mr Rosch is mean. I don't know how anyone could deal with someone like that for so long as you'll have to." She asked in an upset tone.

"He pointed a gun at a child because I kept refusing. I know he would've pulled the trigger if I continued." Dajh winced at the memory.

Both Butterfly and Claire frowned at the frightened child, and had the joint decision to change the subject.

"Has Yaag told you where he intends to move to?" Butterfly switched the subject swiftly.

"No, not yet. He'll probably only tell me right before we move. But that's my fault for avoiding him. He's an irritating man."

"Sazh says he's going to North Bodhum. That's where Madam Raines is, he says that if he don't at least see her she'll think he's dead, or at least fear it until she dies. She needs the confirmation, but he wouldn't mind living with her again. He calls her by her first name would you believe?" She exclaimed like it was the most bizarre thing in existence.

"There are weirder things than that. Maybe they're just close. He named that baby after her younger sister apparently."

"I guess you're right." The teenager nodded, agreeing with Claire.

Silence arose soon after that, Butterfly hadn't had much to say in the first place and wasn't good at coming up with stuff from thin air. Claire was distracted by her thoughts, and Dajh stayed as silent as he always had been, she predicted he intended to leave when Butterfly did and until then he would continue clinging to her.

"Do you find it weird to think that you won't be able to call me by 'Young Miss' for much longer?" Claire asked, it being the best she could come up with.

Butterfly shook her head. She knew it'd be rude to call a woman both married and older than her by such a name, but still she smirked and said, "Nope, I'm never going to stop calling you that!"

Claire sent her a confused look; she understood why the girl could find it funny, but not her reasons for not stopping using that title. She opened her mouth to speak but the other anticipated what she was going to ask and beat her to it.

"If you marry Mr Rosch than I'd have to call you Madam Rosch but that sounds like roach; so I shall refuse and continue to call you Young Miss like I always have."

Butterfly giggled, and Claire sighed, "Of course you would." Dajh eyed each women curiously as they laughed for a reason he was unable to understand.

Soon afterwards Butterfly and Dajh were shooed out of the room by one of Yaag's mother's elderly slaves who also forced Claire to get dressed. The room she'd been using used to belong to one of Yaag's now married sister's, and some of her clothes were still in the wardrobe. Since all of her own were burned in the fire, they were all she had to wear. It wasn't so much the stranger's frilly dresses that bothered her, but that the slaves always made sure she put on a corset, unlike they had back home.

After that, she was forced to have lunch with Yaag and his delusional mother. It would have been in complete silence, if not for the woman next to her spurting out questions at random. Simple things like what she liked and how she used to spend her time. Initially she would answer, but as time went by she stopped. It wasn't like they mattered. When lunch was over the woman left her and her son to go be with her husband, Yaag would leave in silence, wherever he was going she hadn't any idea. Claire made it a habit to return to her room, having nothing else she could do. The annoying stinging pain of her injuries were hard to stand after a while, so sleeping was a good option. That way she didn't have to pay attention to them. This house was far smaller than hers had been, but with a similar set up, so finding her way back was easy, and in some odd way comforting.

Claire would have gone back to the bedroom this day just as she had the others, but instead she halted when she spotted someone playing around the entry to a small room in her peripheral vision. She twisted her head, seeing Dajh playing with a small girl she recognised as they daughter of one of her father's slaves, who she guessed must be here as well. The little girl wasn't much more than a year older than Dajh. She strolled over to them curiously, noticing the room they played in front of was a small library. It was pitiful in comparison to the one she'd had. She frowned remembering that it was completely obliterated; then couldn't help but wonder curiously if there something was wrong with her for missing a bunch of books over her own mother. To most that might seem…insane.

She took a step inside the room, and sighted Sazh sitting on a chair in the corner of the room, holding his sleeping daughter in his arms whist talking to a woman who Claire knew as the mother of the girl outside. She took a step closer before he noticed her in turn. He gave her a small smile and said hello. The woman at his side sat up and walked over, smiling herself; though so small it was barely noticeable.

"Ah, hello Young Miss, glad to see you're doing well." She said, and unless she was horribly mistaken Claire could've sworn that she'd heard embarrassment in her voice. "Sazh here has been telling me about what you did. I feel kind of embarrassed to tell you the truth…" She trailed off, letting her gaze lower itself to the ground before she continued. "I hadn't thought someone like you would have done such a thing for a stranger, especially someone like us for that matter. I'm sorry really; I misjudged you because of what your mother was like, I thought you were like her since you're both were so rude. It's almost silly to dare think that, that monster would have gladly let the child be shot if it got her out of a situation she didn't like." She stopped herself when she realised how rude it must sound for calling someone's mother a monster in front of them, she opened her mouth to apologise but Claire stopped them.

"I don't care what you think of her, she was a monster, to that I agree completely. But I'm nothing like her; the only thing I inherited was her temper."

The older woman nodded before leaving the room, still feeling embarrassed over what she'd said. She let her daughter continue playing, but informed her she'd be back soon. There was a minute of silence thereafter, only interrupted by the laughter of the two children outside the room.

Claire turned her head to look at Sazh, who was comforting his daughter who must have awoken when she had been talking with the other woman. The girl was barely crying, she seemed to be a rather quiet child. Sazh looked up as she sat next to him without a word. The first thing he did was look at the borrowed dress she wore. It was snow white with puffy sleeves and many ruffles around the bust. He tried to not react to it, he truly did, but in his attempt to not laugh, he ended up snorting. Claire glared,

"What's that for?"

"I'm sorry, but that really does not fit you." He laughed, deciding he may as well.

"I don't think any dress would." She scowled, straightening out the bottom half which had creased when she'd sat down.

"Maybe, though I didn't think that one I'd first seen you in was that bad."

"But that got covered in dirt and blood and Yaag's crazy mother burnt it. She Burnt It." She put extra emphasis on each word in the last sentence.

"Not the first time I've heard that happening. It was destroyed there's not much else you can do." He shook his head as he finally got over the sight.

"What have you been doing by the way?" Claire asked, changing the subject to one that wasn't stupid and pointless.

"Not much. That woman says we should stay here, but I'm adamant on seeing Fang. The old lady's got herself enough company I think. Dajh will be sad to leave his new friends and this town, it's the only place he's ever known after all, but he'll get used to it in time. Plus I think Fang will love to see this little girl," He indicated to the baby in his arms. "I'm almost scared to know her reaction when she finds out we named our daughter after her sister though. There are only a few things in this world that can make that girl cry and that name is one of them."

Claire nodded, not voicing a response. She got the feeling that this Fang girl must really care about her sister, if her name could provoke such a reaction. Her feelings would challenge her own for Serah.

"Hey, Fang's parents are dead too aren't they? Will that make it easier for her to help Vanille? You said that she got put in an asylum, she wants to get her out right?"

Sazh smiled, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. It was almost sad. "I hope it will. And yes, as you guessed, she desperately wants to get her out of that place. There's nothing wrong with Vanille, she's perfectly sound, but sending her to a place like that could change things. It's something that both of us are scared for, there are no reasons for her to be there, but she'll be treated like the rest of the crazed people who're sent there. It's hell, she might as well get tortured." Sazh bit his lip and stopped himself before he went further; as he'd talked his tone had been dipped in anger, and only worsened as he went on.

"I have a feeling she's not the first person to have something like that happen to her." Claire muttered, half to herself. "I'm sure there are more people like her. More people like her father as well. Much more."

Sazh grimaced and nodded dejectedly in agreement, knowing that was the truth. Disgusting as it was. He looked up to Claire, who had stood up off the chair, holding her head in her hand.

"Still tired I take it? That night must've been more than someone like you could take." She didn't like the way he'd chosen to say it, but she knew Sazh hadn't intended it to be taken as mean. She was a rich girl, being put through a strenuous situation where she wasn't allowed to sleep for many hours was something previously unheard of. It'd taken a far heavier toll on her, than as to someone more adjusted to it.

"A little bit." She replied, rubbing her eyes. "I don't know why, all I've been doing is sleeping."

"You went through a lot. Hell, first couple times I got made to work late into the night I'd sleep for a full day afterwards; though usually I wasn't allowed such luxury."

"I guess." She mumbled tiredly, she shook her head trying to wake herself up, but it didn't work so well.

"I think you need a little more sleep. It'd do you well, plus then you won't have to deal with of those injuries. They don't look like the type that'd be healed by tomorrow." He told her.

"I should probably take that advice." She shook her head another time seeing if it'd work, only to receive a similar result. "I'll see you later then? Unless you intend to leave soon."

"Don't worry; we haven't any means to leave yet. I know that Yaag intends to move north, may take advantage of that if we're allowed to. It doesn't matter if it's not the same place, it'd be close enough."

"So you'll still be here for a while yet." She said to herself, so he didn't bother to reply knowing that was so.

Claire left the room after that. She was glad for what he'd told her, he was good company, and besides Butterfly she didn't have much else. As she walked out the door, she noticed the little girl who'd been playing with Dajh was on the floor. She was nursing her knee, meaning she must have tripped over and hurt herself. The boy was at her side comforting her as she cried. Concerned Claire stepped over to them and inspected the wound. It wasn't much, barely a scratch, but to have made it bleed at all she'd have to have hit the floor hard. The girl was pouring her eyes out.

"Mamma, I want mamma!" She screamed, making Claire jump back. She had a loud voice.

"Where is she? I didn't see where she went."

"I don't know." The child cried.

"Then how can I help?" Claire asked, wondering.

"By getting mamma!"

"But…I already said I don't know where she is." She inwardly sighed, she didn't like dealing with children when they were like this, but it didn't feel right to leave the girl in this state. And Sazh wouldn't be any help since the girl clearly would have trouble walking, but his hands were full with carrying Vanille. Claire could carry her, but only for a short while and she'd tire long before she found the girl's mother if she just blindly searched for her. Luckily fate decided to be nice to her, as not a moment later the woman in question did return as she'd promised her daughter she would. It was fantastic timing, since Claire really hadn't enjoyed the idea of carrying a bawling kid around.

The woman's first reaction was a gasp before she knelt down at her daughter's side and inquired in a panic what had happened.

"She fell I think, I didn't see it but she was like this when I came out."

"Well thanks for staying with her." The woman thanked before picking up her daughter, "Oh darling let's get you fixed up." Her crying daughter nodded happily. Dajh who'd stayed by her side the entire time followed along behind them as they left the room. Claire stood up off the ground, and without anything else to do, took the advice Sazh had given her before she'd left the room.

Claire roused late in the afternoon. The sun was sinking into the horizon, turning the sky a fiery orange and the clouds dotted about it a deep purple. She climbed out of bed; it'd been an uncomfortable rest as she had slept fully clothed. She had found out quite a while back that sleeping in a corset was a horrible ordeal.

She had nothing to do, but she wouldn't dare go back to sleep, the addition of the corset made her incredibly sore, yet she knew that she couldn't simply get rid of it because she would be forced to have dinner with Yaag and that demented mother of his later. And she had a good feeling that if she didn't wear it there was a good chance that Yaag would go off at her over it. It was beginning to look like to her that he was going to go off at her for even the least important things. He had to be obsessed with perfection, which she certainly wasn't. The man was crazy for trying to deal with her.

She decided she could walk around, maybe it'd let her forget both her tiredness and her inability to breath.

She strolled around the top floor for a bit, before descending the stairs and walking about the bottom floor. She ran into quite a few of her father's former slaves who'd Yaag's mother had gotten to work here. She had the chance to talk to them for a bit, but each conversation never lasted long. They seemed to share the feelings of the woman she'd talked to earlier, before she'd chatted with Sazh. It made conversation awkward.

She was beginning to bore of the sad excuses for conversation when she ran into Butterfly, something which made her glad. The girl didn't but up a wall between them like the others all did, she didn't even go off at an odd comment, like she usually did. It was probably because of the debt she felt she had towards her. That she felt like she shouldn't dare be rude to someone who without them, they wouldn't be here at all.

They talked until Claire was forced to come to dinner, Butterfly cheerily waved goodbye and was made to leave. Dinner was a mostly silent affair; Yaag's mother was oddly silent. Claire thought that might mean there was a chance that maybe; just maybe, she was beginning to accept the truth of her sickly husband's health. It was surely a good reason for why the woman was feeling as sad as she was at the moment. But Claire felt no need to actually ask the woman, for if she was wrong she would be stuck talking to a woman who belonged in a mad house. And she didn't know anyone who'd want such a thing. She was quite surprised though, when it was not her who broke the long lasting silence, but Yaag himself. For the first time since she'd been here.

"Why have you been talking with those mongrels?" He questioned, with a harsh tone to his voice. It was a stupid question. But being the type of person he was, it was very likely that he just was generally blind to the answer. And despite understanding perfectly what he meant, she decided she would annoy him over his choice of words.

"What mongrels?" She asked with a smirk.

He glared at her, "You know what I mean."

"Only if you know the answer to your question." She replied cryptically.

His glare deepened, he went to complain when his mother interjected with the answer, which as it would be to most people, was clear to her.

"She has nothing to do; I think it just seems like the best option to her." The woman spoke up in a kind tone, hoping it'd stop the argument forming.

"Surely there's a better option in a house like this than speaking with animals."

"People." Claire cut in, "Sorry you disagree, but they are in fact people. It's actually really easy to see that to be honest." She paused then added, her smirk returning. "Actually, I'm not sorry about that, I'm sorry that you're an idiot."

Yaag death stared her, and made a sound that greatly resembled a growl. "You have better not insult me."

"I think I already did." She sniggered, "But maybe you didn't notice that. You don't strike me as being very bright."

He growled again, and his hand twitched violently, giving her the feeling he was using all his self-control to stop himself from hitting her again. She noted that, and knowing perfectly well she really shouldn't, she said:

"Want to hit me again do you? What's that supposed to get you but an ugly red mark on my cheek?" She pointed to her cheek, where the mark he'd made remained. His mother stiffened in shock, and cried out angrily.

"My son would not hit a woman, how dare you accuse him of so!" She clenched her hands into fists.

Claire just looked at her blank faced for a moment before she said anything. This woman was pitiful. "But he did hit me; see the mark's right here, "She again pointed to the red mark, "Multiple times too. Not like it's the worst thing he did. You know he actually had to point a gun at a child to get me to say yes to the proposal? He claimed he would shoot him if I said no once again, and I'm damn sure he would have done it."

"He'd never do such a thing! Get out! Out out!" His screeching mother pointed to the door, having an absolute fit.

"Gladly." Claire rolled her eyes and sat up, heading to the door. She wasn't even hungry anyway so she didn't mind letting the half empty plate of food to go to waste.

Yaag sat down like all was normal, even when his mother was still fuming. He mentioned to Claire just before she got to the door,

"Mother wrote a letter to your sister yesterday. Telling her about what happened. I'm not sure what she wrote, but I thought maybe you'd at least like to know. Maybe that girl would at least be happy knowing that finally her big sister was getting married."

Claire bit her lip, fearing how her sister would react to the news of her engagement, and the destruction of their home.

"She won't" Serah knew what she was like; she'd know it was arranged. With that she left the room.

"Madam Villiers, there's letter that has come for you." An elderly voice called out to Serah, who was sitting in the front parlour eating an afternoon snack. She looked up to the woman who'd called her curiously, before jumping up to take the letter from her hands. She inspected it, noting the name of the sender. This piqued her curiosity, she couldn't think of a reason that elderly woman would send a letter to her of all people, it didn't make any sense.

She opened the envelope slowly; finding it written in neat print, but largely slanted, making it rather difficult to read. She pulled it out all the way and discarded the envelope on the couch besides her. The elderly woman who had handed it to her became increasingly interested in its contents, when she noticed the intense way the girl in front of her began to stare at it, and how her hand tightened around it, causing a large crease in the delicate paper. When it was clear she had finished, Serah was silent for a time, before standing up and crunching the letter in her hand. Her stance was stiff, and her pink lips drawn to a line. It was easy to see how much the letter had bothered her. She was holding back the emotions it'd brought up, and it was noticeably hard for her to keep them from spilling over.

"Madam Villiers?" The older woman asked uneasily, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." She answered quickly. Too quickly. For a moment she could have sworn she'd seen the sparkle of a tear in her eye, but she shut them before it was too visible.

"But something seems to be wrong. I know it's not my place to intrude, but what was in that letter if I may in fact ask?" She continued to try and pry, but she got little results.

Serah forced herself to reply, and when she did a stutter was evident. "W…would you mind getting m…me some paper and ink? I…I have to write back. You can bring it to my room; I have s…something I need to do. It'll only take a moment."

"Yes, that's fine." She nodded as she let Serah pass by her, who rushed down the hall in a hurry. If she had neither scrunched up that letter nor taken it with her, she could've had a chance of reading it, but now she couldn't do nothing but guess at what it contained.

Serah rushed down the hall with the letter still firmly in her hand, going as fast as she could, as it was difficult moving so fast whilst wearing a dress like hers. She reached her destination in a huff and almost collapsed on the floor, but she grasped the wall by the door to steady herself. Snow looked up and saw her by the doorway breathing heavily, and immediately became concerned.

"Serah? What happened?" He exclaimed in alarm, she lifted her head up to show the tears running down her face. She lifted up the letter she held. He was going to take it off her to see what was written on it, but she told him it instead before he had the chance.

"The house burned down." She muttered; her face blank from shock. "Rogue soldiers."

Right away he understood, and grimaced when he realised why she was like this. "Are-"

"Mother is dead." She stated flatly, in her state it was hard to tell if this was a fact that bothered her. Her tone was not enough to tell.

"Is Cla-"

"She's…fine. The letter said that some of the slaves died too, but I don't know too much on that part. Clearly the one that wrote this didn't care about it."

Snow noticed her hesitation before she had said that her sister was fine. Something had happened to her, but she was reluctant to say it.

"Who wrote the letter, if Sis didn't?" He questioned. It was clear that she couldn't have, when Serah had said that the person that had wrote it hadn't cared for the others. Claire would be more concerned about the slaves than her mother, seeing how much she hated her.

"Madam Rosch. I don't know her very well. She's an elderly woman, I hear her husband is very sick, but all else I know about her is that she has an adult son."

"Why'd she write it then if she has nothing to do with all this?"

"Her son found Sis apparently, the morning after. The letter said she'd gotten into a fight with the others, or something along those lines. She'd been a ways away from the others. The details weren't good; I don't think the woman who wrote it actually knew them. But I think that's a common occurrence throughout the whole letter." She muttered the end dismally, something else troubled her, was what her sentence hinted. Still, she seemed reluctant to speak about it.

"There's something else in that letter isn't there? Something you're not saying?" Snow asked, sure that there was.

Serah bit her lip and lowered her head. "I don't think that woman even remotely understands what's going on." She mumbled, dodging the question.

"Serah, what else is there?"

"She's delusional, that's what I always got told about her."

"Serah!" Snow shouted, she tilted her head up to look him in the eye, her face rife with shock. "There's something else written there isn't there? I can understand if you don't want to say it, but please, tell me." His eyes were heavy with emotion; he was truly concerned about what had provoked this reaction out of her.

"The woman that wrote this mentioned how her son had been looking after his father's work in his place, since he is sickly. His father had connections with ours, and her son was finishing some things up, as Father can't do anything for a while. So he'd been coming to our house to do so. When she first started writing this I didn't understand what it had to do with anything. I didn't think anything of it nor understand what was the point in writing it at all." She paused, and bit her lip so hard that it bleed, Snow was about to get her to stop before she hurt herself further but she released it and continued on,

"I reread the part a couple times over; I just couldn't believe what she'd written next. I think he's greedy and is just trying to get father's money, I know he has a lot. But his mother is too blind to realise this, so that's why there was no comment on it. But I can tell what type of person her son must be, I don't know what he is like personally but I know enough about his parents to judge what type of character he must have. And someone like that wouldn't be doing what he's doing for any other reason." Serah paused again, the next part distressed her deeply, and it took a lot of force to get the words to form outside of her mind.

"He said nothing to Claire at all, so she would have no choice, and went straight to mother knowing how she would respond. Father wasn't there, so he could do nothing. That made things go in his favour."

Snow frowned, hoping she wasn't about to say what he thought she was going to say, it just had to be anything but that.

"I'm dead sure that this is sincerely to get at father's money, but he wanted to propose to her. He knew she'd say no, so did mother. So being the person she is, she gave him her permission. So long story short, mother got her way by arranging a marriage for Claire. And it's probably to some horrible man who'll treat her like rubbish." At saying that, Serah broke into tears. Snow pulled her into a hug to try and comfort her. She mumbled through the sobs that wracked her body,

"I need to see her Snow, I need to see her!" She clenched her hands, and cried harder.

"Then the first chance we'll-"

"No," She pushed herself away, "I have to go alone. I know that no matter what she'll never like you no matter what I say to convince her otherwise, it's just how Sis is. If things really are as they are, it's best if I go alone."

He nodded, knowing she was correct. There was no way to get around that. She gave him a peck on the lips before running off down the hall. She headed up the stairs and made her way to her room. She found couple pieces of paper placed next to a bottle of ink like she'd asked. She sat down and began to write. The letter was intended for her sister, but she knew that the madam of that house had always been a little funny in the head, and now that her husband was in such a bad state it was bound to be worse. She'd more than likely read it herself and not show it to Claire nor mention it to her. So she only wrote the bare necessities, saying that she intended to see her as soon as she could. She said nothing of her theories behind what had really occurred. Afterwards she would only wait for the time it would take for the letter to reach her, and then she'd be straight there. She deeply wished that they didn't have such a distance between them now.

Claire was up in her room around noon, chatting with Butterfly, it was calming. She had become good company considering the girl had no need to go off at her at all, nor did she want to. She was better than Yaag and his deluded mother for sure. She'd been here barely over a week and she could tell the difference her husband's appearance had taken. He'd be a skeleton if it wasn't for his skin. He looked like a corpse, he'd die soon, but still his wife refused to dare think it was a possibility.

When she saw Sazh most days, he looked like he was talking to himself, unless you were to notice the baby girl in his arms. He refused to let go of her the same way he refused to let Dajh out of his sight. He was a good father, better than hers had been even; he was extremely protective of his children. It made her wonder a little if Dajh ever found it annoying, as his sister was too young to understand what could be wrong.

It was funny how Claire hadn't any idea where Yaag even was, and it was he who had brought her here in the first place. The only time she saw him was at meal times which she didn't even want to attend anyway. His mother had seemingly forgot the argument they'd had a few days back, but she was out of her head, and might have very well decided to ignore the fact it had happened and decided to view them as a loving couple. Like the kind they could never possibly be.

Time slipped by slowly, and soon noon became afternoon and the sky turned a rich golden orange. Claire kept up her conversation with Butterfly during this, for it was most certainly the best way to past the time, as opposed to what the certain others in this house chose to believe. It was soon disrupted however, when an excited Dajh ran into the room.

Surprised, both Claire and Butterfly looked his way, wondering what had caused him to come in other than to make the attempt at getting out of his father's sight. It'd have to be something for sure.

"There's this weird girl downstairs." He smiled. "But that funny woman was talking to her. She smiled at me though so I think she's nice." He added.

Quizzically Claire raised an eyebrow, not able to figure out who this woman could be. Next to her Butterfly followed a similar train of thought.

"What kind of girl? Weird doesn't say much." Butterfly asked, ruffling his soft black hair.

Dajh put a finger to his lips, thinking up a way to describe her, after a minute he pointed to Claire. Specifically her hair, though it was a little difficult to see that, "Like her."

Claire blinked in surprise; he'd either meant that this woman was white, or that she had pink hair, which could only mean one thing. Hastily she got up and ran to the door, not saying a word to explain herself.

Claire rushed down the stairs, and found a sight that surprised her. By the doors was Serah having a conversation of sorts with Yaag's mother. It was clear that the older of the two didn't like the idea of her being here, but Serah was being incredibly stubborn with her.

"Serah?" She shouted in surprise as she neared the bottom of the staircase. Her little sister smiled at her, whilst the person she'd just been talking to pretended that she hadn't just been previously harsh to the girl, and adopted a cheery demeanour. Serah passed the woman and ran right over to her big sister, pulling her immediately into a hug.

"Oh Claire I've missed you!" She screamed.

For a moment Claire was shocked by the sudden hug, but slowly she hugged her back and said shakily, "I missed you too. What are you doing here?"

"I got a letter telling me about what happened." Serah admitted. "I'm sorry something like that had happened, but I'm glad you're alright."

Claire nodded, and tried to return the smile her dear sister was giving to her, but did not manage well with the attempt.

Behind them the older woman who'd Serah had been speaking with strode to the side of them, and asked the younger sister with a smug grin gracing her features, "So, are you staying for the wedding?"

Serah gazed at her for a second, her expression faulted and she looked away. "Can I talk to my sister first, if you don't mind?"

"Of course," She answered, "But make it short."

"We'll try." Serah replied, as they walked away.

They sat down at the end of the bed in the room Claire had been using. Butterfly had left it seemed, but Claire didn't bother to think about where'd she'd gone off to.

"Claire, tell me everything, and I do mean everything. I need to know. I know that woman said things that weren't quite true. I need to hear your side of the story."

"Alright then." Claire answered, then went to tell her about how after their father had left she had started to see this man around the house. Initially she had pinned him to be obnoxious, and kept it at that. He'd called her interesting, but she'd taken it as his own special way of saying she was rude and horrible, like how everyone else thought she was. She then told her about her he wanted to propose to her, and they both realised that they had the same idea that he was only after father's money and that was it. She'd gotten into an argument with mother, a terrible one. Serah frowned, as she'd hoped it would stop. But it didn't compare to the look she gave Claire when she said that the last thing she said to her was: 'Die horribly and rot in hell you stupid ugly old hag'. She said that after that Yaag had come into the room, he'd tried to calm her down and talk, simple as that. Instead she ended up angering him and he pushed her down on the bed and hit her in the face multiple times. It'd been extremely painful and had left a mark for days. But she felt sorrier for Butterfly who'd walked in on it. She'd cried after Yaag left, which must have shocked Butterfly, who had never seen her do such before.

She continued to say that when they woke up the house was under attack by soldiers. The house was on fire but they managed to make their way out side without gaining attention. They hid under the cover of a fallen branch at her secret place, she added in the part about how a thunder storm had destroyed it. Butterfly fell asleep in her arms but she was so scared she couldn't possibly do the same, so she stayed awake until morning when the soldiers had left. She went out to go find survivors, with Butterfly following close behind. She mentioned how Butterfly had lost her sister, and that all the men were burying the dead when they'd found them. Apparently Yaag had been in the house too at the time of the attack she soon found out, but like her he'd made it out. They got into an argument where he'd tried to hurt her again, but the slaves surrounded her since whether they liked her or not she certainly didn't deserve pointless punishment from him.

She'd ran off after the argument, and had gotten lost in the woods in the surrounding area; which was how she had managed to get herself so badly injured. She tripped and fell after a while and knocked herself out, Serah gasped at this so she quickly made sure to explain that she was lucky someone nearby found her. So she told her about Sazh, a slave from another plantation that had been destroyed a few days earlier. He was travelling with his young son Dajh and baby daughter Vanille. At the name of his daughter Serah couldn't help but comment on the name, so Claire did confirm for her that yes, she was indeed named after the Oerba's youngest daughter.

Yaag found her eventually, and they'd gotten into yet another argument. He'd tried to hit her yet again but Sazh saved her before he could do real harm. But him helping her put Yaag in a foul mood. So to get her to agree to the proposal, he'd pointed a gun at the child watching them. Serah's eyes were as round as bulbs when she said that. She was stunned that Yaag could do such a thing, and saddened by how her sister had indeed said yes.

Not a minute after she'd finished retelling, Claire was just about to tell Serah about what had happened since she'd arrived here, when Yaag's mother walked in the door. With a rather blank face she asked,

"Is this over?"

Though it wasn't, Serah had heard as much as she'd needed. "Why yes, why do you ask?"

The other woman frowned at her smile, "No reason, I guess I'm curious. And on that note, may I ask if you're staying for the wedding?"

Serah frowned at that and replied matter-of-factly, "I have no want to attend something fake like that. I'll stay the night and that'll be it. Then I'll be out of your hair, which I'm sure you'd be glad of."

The older woman scowled, "It'll be good riddens." She closed the door behind her.

"She's a terrible woman." Serah stated after she was sure she was gone.

"As if I haven't realised that."

Serah left the day after like she had said she would, Claire immediately missed her presence. She was a light in this dark place, and she desperately wanted it back. They'd talked non-stop in the short time they were together, Serah told her all about her new life, all about the new friends she'd made and how much she was enjoying herself. Claire hadn't as much to say, seeing as she'd already explained the most important details early on. She didn't dodge admitting to that she had in fact gotten in more arguments than she usually had with mother. It made Serah upset to hear, but it wasn't like anything could be done about it now, when the woman was already gone.

Two months passed along painfully slow. She was lucky enough to not have to deal with Yaag's delusional mother for most of this, for she had stayed at her husband's bedside close to the entire time. It would seem that it had finally caught up with her that he would soon breathe his last, and this was true, for he'd died during the night only a few days ago. A funeral was held almost immediately after, but she locked herself in her room so she wouldn't be forced to attend. She had Butterfly so she wouldn't be surrounded with nothing but silence. Yaag had made himself a pain on more than one occasion, but so far he had not hit her again, so the arguments they had were not much to her. She was starting to think as little of them as she did the countless ones she'd had with her mother.

During the two months that she had been in this house her injuries had healed, though she'd rather they hadn't. They'd help stop the future she so detested from happening, if all that they could do was slow it down. She had three scars, she had found. There was one was on her forehead that could be easily hidden by her hair. She had gotten it from the time she had tripped and fell before Sazh had found her. The other two were on one arm, from cuts that hadn't healed correctly. She was beginning to feel sick, though she was reluctant to come out and say it. She truly couldn't stand what was to come for her. She didn't want to look at a man like Yaag much less marry him. But from the moment her mother had said yes she was doomed, she had only succeeded in making it worse by saying that word herself. There was no way she could back out, if she tried running off she'd be found. Saying no was no longer an option.

It'd happen soon. He'd promised it'd be soon after she was healed up. She dreaded the day.

Light trickled in from the windows, making the room shine. Claire sat on the end of her bed in complete silence, trying her hardest to calm herself. She watched the scene outside to distract herself from her thoughts, but it didn't work out as well as she'd hoped, so eventually she gave up on the idea. Downstairs there was a crowd of strangers, since the only person she had left had promised she would not come. She'd seen earlier that the rooms downstairs were done up in extravagant decorations, but only a few would care. The ones who'd believed there was nothing fake in this day.

She knew the moment she'd let the word 'yes' slip from her lips that this day would come, she knew it the day she was brought to this house that'd it come far faster than she'd like. If someone could sense the amount of dread she felt right in this moment, they would never be able to imagine that she was a bride and this was her wedding day.

She was dressed in a dress that was never intended to be used as a wedding dress, but Yaag's mother had decided it would look best. Apparently it'd belong to one of his younger sister's before she'd been married off and left. It'd been left here to gather dust like all the other dresses she'd been made to wear since coming here. It was snow white with short sleeves that ended in ruffles. It was plain around the collar with the bust and hips of the dress decorated in flower patterned lace. The skirt of the dress was plain, with the exceptions of the cream ribbons that decorated the ends. To cover her arms were gloves made with a similar patterned flower lace as the lace on her dress. Earlier a woman she hadn't yet seen in this house came up and did up her hair in a bun atop her head, pinning a rose to it. But in the position she lay in, she had surely ruined all her hard work.

She would have to go down in about half an hour for the ceremony. She wished she could leave right now, but she wouldn't be able to make it out of the house without someone spotting her. She turned onto her side, so she wouldn't have to look at the door. With it no longer in her sight and her mind being so deeply caught up in her thoughts, she didn't notice it open.

"She was right that you'd make a mess of it." A high pitched voice came from the doorway, letting out a tiny giggle. She knew of only one person with a voice that high, and knew of only one person who would go near her at this moment. So when she pushed herself up and looked to the door and found a smiling Butterfly standing there she was not even remotely surprised.

"The woman that did your hair told me that she was sure you'd wreck it. You'd been lying on the bed when she came in, so she was sure you'd do it again when she left. It seemed she was quite right." There was amusement in her voice, but it quickly turned serious. "Young Miss, are you scared at all?" Her voice was heavy with the concern she so obviously felt. In a short time she had really come to respect Claire, and she didn't want anything worse to come her way. Considering the life she had lived, she'd been through a lot.

Claire bit her lip, and averted her gaze. "I might be. I know I hate that man more than anyone. I can't stand to even look at him."

"You really don't want this, hey?" Butterfly said half to herself as she sat down beside her. Without her permission she took her hair out and fixed it up. Claire did not comment on it since she'd realised what she was doing the moment she'd started.

"I never wanted it. Not one bit. I dread what's to come of my life." She went silent then, and when it looked like she wouldn't say anything else beyond that, Butterfly asked in a small voice.

"I want to come with you you know."

"Huh?" Claire looked to her, confused.

"He wants to move north, so you'll have to too. I want to see if I can convince him to let me come. You'll still need servants won't you? I'll just have to not mention to him how clumsy I am or that'll dash my chances."

Not sure how exactly to respond to that, Claire just replied. "Thanks." Knowing that Butterfly wanted to be there for her when she didn't have any one else that could.

"I do." The very words made her sick to the stomach, and the kiss was like poison.

The ceremony had passed in a blur, it'd taken all her concentration just to keep her mind on it, because the top thought in her mind was running off and never coming back. She felt sick, she felt angry, and most of all the emotion she was least likely for her to admit to, scared. This man was a violent bastard, who was to say what he'd do to her in the future? The idea of him literally being the death of her didn't seem out there to her, not one bit.

During the reception she ate nothing, she was feeling far too sick to dare take a bite. And the first moment she got, she snuck out of the room and ran upstairs where she hid in her room and hoped that no one would find her. Sometime during the night Butterfly came into her room saying that she hadn't been able to see her where everyone else was, so this had been her first choice to look. She'd brought Dajh with her, since apparently they'd been talking together during the wedding in a room on the other side of the house.

They talked for the rest of the night; Dajh even fell asleep a little way in to the conversation, his head rested on Butterfly's lap. It was clear that no one had cared about her absence, since no one came to look for her, and no one questioned her the morning after when she was found sleeping over the covers of her bed with the dress still on and a slave girl sleeping soundly besides her, with a child fast asleep on a chair in the corner of the room.

Done nyan.

Hope you enjoyed. P.S, if anyone reading this is reading deceiving love as well, could you please give it a review? No one has reviewed it for four chapters now. Makes me glad I'm posting this since I know I'll get at least 1. It's usually 3 despite the couple hundred reading this...but one will be my sister...and one will be my friend...so that makes it 1...

Well, Jya ne.

~Serah Villiers Valentine