(9,822 words) sorry if I haven't updated in a bit (actually, I can't remember last time this was updated to be honest). I had other things to do, tests and all that, so I had to put Fan fiction off. I finished this a week ago, my sister/beta forgot to tell me she'd finished editing when she had...three days ago.

The little conversation in this (I have a feeling people will know it when they see it) will be repeated in the next chapter, but it'll be a little different surely. You'll understand when you read it.

Oh, I'll just mention it here because it has the most likely chances of being seen, but since I've gotten my scanner to work, I'll be uploading my pictures on Deviant Art. My account name is superSAKURA64. The picture of submitting on there tonight has a lovely story to it, which basically goes a little like this: 'I didn't understand what we were doing in maths, so I drew a tea party.' I was going around telling my friends that...not even remotely realising how weird it sounded.

Well, anyway, hope you enjoy.

Dance against the wind

Chapter 15: Devil incarnate

In the week that followed her marriage, Claire had been practically left in the dark as everything was organised last minute. She knew little, but knew that as soon as was possible, she and her new husband were to move north. Apparently he intended to take over a business over on Cocoon, it had once been investing in by his father, as she had been told by his mother, but was failing. Yaag's intention was to take over and alternate it a little, in hope of saving it. She had initially decided he was an idiot for trying, but after overhearing a part in one of his conversations to another man as she passed by a room downstairs, it turned out he had a good and proper way to do what he intended. And, this so called failing company were not doing as bad as she'd first been told. Still, just because this made him seem a mite less idiotic, it didn't help the hatred she felt for him. He was a disgusting man that she wanted nothing to do with; sadly, life just couldn't let her have her way. The last minute preparations had given her one good thing however, it meant that she didn't have to deal with Yaag at all. Even if she went all around the house, it'd be unlikely for them to come face to face. He had barely come to dinner too, since their marriage. It made the meal easier, for all there was to deal with was the delirious woman sitting opposite her.

She'd spent the greater portion of time with Butterfly locked up in her room; for the most part they just talked. Sometimes Claire wondered if she only kept it up because both of them wanted to ignore the reality of their current situation. Even disregarding the forced marriage, before that they had lost almost all they held dear. It hadn't hit her until quite recently, but Butterfly, like her, had lost her home. She had lost her dear older sister to boot, and since then she lost her connection to her father who was sold off to another household. The teenager had told her that she had not lost as much as her, and technically that was true material wise, but when the only family she lost was a mother she hated, she found herself unable to agree no matter how many times it was repeated to her.

She reckoned she had gotten closer to Butterfly, since the girl wasn't afraid of getting too close to her as she had once been back before their homes had been destroyed. If that was not true, then the girl had gotten braver since they'd first met. They had originally met because Butterfly was made to keep an eye on her. She'd been somewhat annoyed with her for a time then, but now she hated just remembering that she had thought that way once. She supposed, she could call them friends, she knew that Butterfly had decided they were. They were clinging to memories by being together, perhaps they knew that, but couldn't care any less.

The little child Dajh clung to Butterfly wherever she went, unless his father managed to get a hold of him first. Sazh was incredibly protective of him she found, he made sure that his son was in his sights as much as possible, as if he was scared that the moment he lost sight of him the child would disappear into thin air. Claire guessed that might be somewhat bothersome for the child in question, but it was something she liked Sazh for. It meant that he adored Dajh, as a parent should for their precious child. She could only have dreamed to have such a relationship with her mother, though if it had been possible, she would have declined the offer, even Serah had disliked their mother, she merely put up with her and her extravagant ways. This was something her sister didn't admit too easily, being the polite and kind person she was.

At the end of the week, she was informed by Yaag's mother that they would be leaving the day after tomorrow. Any annoyance she felt at being told this so late was wiped away when the woman mentioned the house she was to live in was situated in North Bodhum. The relief of getting to leave this place and the god forsaken woman in front of her would have to wait, for her mind was stuck in remembrance of a memory. It'd been barely anything, and perhaps her mind was making it up, but she swore that was where Sazh said he intended to go. If that was so, that meant that Sazh had an opportunity to move north, by using her. She ran off before the person she was speaking with could finish, seeing as she cared none for what she said, and nothing else she could say would be any bit important.

Claire decided telling him was more important, rather than explaining her intention to those who could hinder it. However, before she could find the man, she ran into another, one who she hadn't intended to at all, at least, not for now. She stopped before she collided with Yaag; he looked a mite startled but calmed down immediately. She was more surprised to have chanced upon him then he was, for she'd barely seen a glimpse of him in the past week.

He frowned as she halted before him. "Surely your mother taught you not to run around the house like an ill-mannered child."

"Of course, but that never meant I listened." She grinned, it was easy to irritate him, and her dislike of him made it hard not to.

Again, he frowned. "Well stop it; I don't want a wife who constantly acts up."

She rolled her eyes, wondering why on earth he even bothered with her considering that was so.

"Why are you still hanging around? Do you have something to tell me?"

He wasn't who she had wanted to talk to at the moment, but she would've needed to talk with him eventually, so in spite of the truth she answered, "Yes, there's something I need to ask."

He looked at her with a look of apprehension, "And what would that be?"

"Your mother was speaking to me before," She explained, "And she said that you intend to move to North Bodhum." It was voiced half as a statement and a question.

Yaag nodded, "Yes, it is a flourishing town, it is a good choice. What about it? You don't seem like the type to ask about something so pointless, is there something about Bodhum that bothers you?" He wasn't concerned in the least, but wasn't quite annoyed by the questions, in fact, he was rather content. A rare moment of calmness.

"You remember that boy you almost shot?" He appeared irritated at the mere mention of him, "His father wants to move there because there is someone there he is very close to. I'm asking for you to let them come north with us. They don't have to live with us; I'm not asking that, I'm just asking you to let them come with us when we do leave, for it'll make everything far simpler for them."

"And why should I let them?" The tone of his voice made it apparent he didn't care what happened to the family, if he made it difficult for them to head north, so what?

"See it as repayment for trying to kill the son." Claire said, unsure if it would get anything in return.

Yaag scoffed, "And why should I repay them for that? They're no better than animals."

"You're no better than an animal." Claire muttered, if they had been alone, she was sure he would have hit her. Anger flared in his eyes. "Just do this, I promise they won't be a hassle for you."

He still seemed fairly unconvinced, fortunately, in a tone of voice that showed very clearly he was trying to suppress his annoyance, "Fine, but if either of its children make a sound, I'll kick them off."

She decided that was good enough, coming from a man like him, though it did upset her to hear him refer to Sazh by 'it'.

"Is that all?" His frustration was easy to hear.

"One more thing. I want to take Butterfly with us as well."

He looked more than a bit disgruntled by her saying that. "Butterfly?" He questioned, she wondered if it was just her name that provoked the question or if he was earnestly curious as to who that was.

"The slave girl that always follows me around. The one with the high voice."

He frowned, her commenting on her high voice sure wouldn't have helped things, but it had seemed like a more easily recognisable feature of the girl. "And why should I let her come too? What use is she?"

"Retaining a piece of the past I guess. I have nothing else left." She had to add in, hoping it'd help. "She'll do her best as a servant I'm sure as well. She's not useless." Claire made no mention to the fact the girl was at times, a complete klutz. It would doom her chances.

Yaag paused and thought, it didn't look like he liked the idea. Still, he answered, "As long as she says nothing until we are there, her voice is torture to listen to."

Again, she disliked the way he'd chosen to say it, but from Yaag it was better than nothing. She decided he had only allowed the girl to come as well in an attempt to make Claire easier to deal with. But whatever the reason was, after nodding to him she ran off to go tell those she needed to the news. Actually happy about something for the first time in a long time.

Claire awoke early the following morning. Originally she had wanted to go back to sleep and wait to be awakened later, but had found the world of sleep had been barred access, so she'd stayed awake and waited. She had sat on the sill of the window in her night gown watching the sun rise over the horizon, over the distant mountains, mountains she was sure she would never see again. She was sure that she would never revisit this town after today. Oerba being the place of her birth, the knowledge sent a peculiar sense of sadness through her. She had nothing left here, no family, no home, and yet she felt herself somewhat reluctant to leave it. Perhaps she was used to this being the world, new places were something yet unheard of for her. It was a possibility that somewhere deep inside the idea of leaving, never to return, scared her. Whether it was true or not, she being herself, would never admit to it.

It wasn't soon after the sun rose a short way above the horizon line, that a maid came in and made her get dressed. She was given a handful of dresses with had once belonged to one of Yaag's sisters, which were packed. These were currently her only possessions, and when you thought about it, they weren't even hers. One of these dresses was a simple dark blue dress with frills at the collar and ends of the long sleeves; this was the one she was made to wear for today.

She was guided by the same maid out to the front of the house, where a carriage was waiting. She had to wait for quite a while, for despite how she had been made to hurry, it seemed Yaag had decided by himself that such a thing didn't apply to him as well. For most of this time, she was content, for Butterfly had come down to her and sat by her side. The girl was speaking in a hushed tone, which made Claire wonder if she'd been told her voice was obnoxious, as some people found it. She was too used to it for her to even have an opinion any more. It was simply normal to her. This suspicion was proved even further correct, when Yaag finally exited the house, and the teenager turned completely silent. She had been told the man had wanted to hear not a single word come out of her mouth, but Claire didn't think she'd take it so seriously. Even when Yaag paid little to no attention to the others around him, she didn't speak.

Frankly, Claire hadn't thought she would be successful in convincing him to let her take Butterfly with her north, so when they entered the carriage together, there was a dream like quality to it. She sat in the front, with Butterfly clinging to her side, whilst Yaag sat opposite them. She had been even more surprised that he had agreed with her to take Sazh and his children with them. To Yaag, there was no good reason to do this; he owed them nothing, even after pointing a gun to Dajh's head. Still, he had informed her that if he heard a single sound out of one of the kids, they and their father would be kicked off. She had warned them of this, and Sazh had taken it to heart, choosing to sit next to the driver, holding his baby daughter tightly, with his son in the middle of them. He hoped that if Vanille did cry, the barrier between them would turn it to silence. It also gave Dajh an opportunity to actually speak, which all were sure he would, being one so young, the sight of everything around him, and the fact of him being on a vehicle was sure to excite him.

During the ride, Claire didn't speak, and of course neither did Butterfly. Inside the carriage, it was suffocating, a heavy atmosphere pressed down on everyone. Even Yaag's very presence, she found, irritated her. He didn't have to talk, he didn't have to do anything, she didn't even have to look at him, and it put her in a bad mood. She was sure it was the same the other way around.

Certainly, the future would be hell for them both.

The carriage ride was long, and they had to stop to rest at night at houses that belonged to Yaag's business associates. By the time they reached their destination, Claire was sore as could be. She observed out the window as they came upon what was apparently their new house. Butterfly let out a silent gasp, but she herself didn't react at all. It was magnificently made, painted a snow white that looked almost as if it was glowing, lined with a soft baby blue for decoration, but most of all, it was enormous. But despite that, it wasn't any more than her old house, the one that burnt down. She pondered as the carriage came to a halt if Yaag was trying to impress her at all, it was a stupid attempt if you thought about it, he had seen her old house; how was this meant to beat it? Her father had been one of the richest men in the country, with the house to go with it. In comparison, Yaag was nothing, how could he dare challenge such a person?

She stepped out of the carriage without assistance, declining the driver's offer. In the surrounding area were trees with leaves coloured a deep green, she found it a strange sight personally, but adjusted to it quickly. Butterfly however, had her attention captured by it. She had grabbed the girl by the arm and had half dragged her with her along to the steps of the house. She was only a tad bit surprised when she found a man dressed in servant's attire standing by the door. Yaag had mentioned on the carriage a day back that he had already hired servants, but it had come close to skipping her mind completely, with the threat of being forgotten. She had cared little for it, and wasn't sure whether it was weird or not. She thought it strange herself, doing so so quickly, but had rare moment of remembering that she was the strange one to most people. Perhaps this was a normal way to go about things.

Later that day, she explored the house, with Butterfly keeping close at her heels. What little clothes she had were being put in a wardrobe upstairs, she needn't bother with it herself she had been told. They passed a handful of the servants, some ignored them and continued doing what they were doing, some paused and watched them as they walked by. She supposed they were trying to figure out what they were doing together, most may have thought that Butterfly had been ordered to stay by her side, a rare few may have had the thought occur to them that she was allowing the girl to stay by her side because she generally wanted her to, for she was a friend. A handful shared the same dark skin as Butterfly, but most had white skin. After passing a number of white skinned servants, both Claire and Butterfly had come to the agreement that Yaag had only wanted white skinned people working for him, and had allowed few exceptions. It fuelled Claire's dislike of him further. She didn't see him for the rest of the day. She guessed she was glad at that.

At some point, Butterfly had started up a conversation with a young maid, working close to the kitchen; Claire had left them to themselves, feeling like she was on the outside. She wandered back into the entrance room, finding Sazh talking with the servant that had been standing by the door when they'd arrived. He was an elderly man, what little was left of his hair had long since turned grey, he was winkled with liver spots and couldn't stand up straight. But his expression was a kind one.

After taking a step or two into the room, both men noticed her. The old man sent her a warm smile, showing his teeth, which were unexpectedly neat and white. Sazh sent her a small, but equally warm smile.

"I thought you would have left already. I know Yaag would flip out if he finds you are, it's just a feeling I have." She attempted a smile, but failed. She knew the man would do just that, and she hated it.

"I couldn't leave without thanking the one who got me here." He replied, smile broadening.

Claire blinked in surprise. "Thanking the one that got you here? You mean…me?" Receiving thanks were practically foreign to her; usually people just went off at her the moment the opportunity arrived.

"Of course, it would have taken me forever to get us here otherwise, why wouldn't I be thankful?" He chuckled at the girl's shock.

"I guess." She looked away, not over the sense of strangeness that had washed over her.

Sazh shook his head and sighed, stepping closer to her so he stood in front of her. She glanced up to look him in the eye. "I could never thank you enough; that you would even bother to help a stranger amazed me. I didn't do anything in return, and yet you still helped me. Thank you." He beamed happily.

She tried to return it, but only managed one half the size.

Right after, sadness flashed in his eye, she was concerned by it and was about to ask, but whatever she could say was interrupted by what he said next. "I know I should be glad that me and my family are alive and healthy, but, I can't help but feel bad about it when I look at you."

Though he said it, she wouldn't have even realised it if he had not said it, because of the cheery way he had been speaking and acting.

"I'm sorry, I feel like it's my fault that you are stuck with that man." He frowned, sorrow taking over his face. "If I hadn't run into you that night, he wouldn't have pointed that gun at Dajh; you wouldn't have been forced into saying yes like that."

"No! Don't think that!" She spoke before she could think. All she knew was she didn't want this man thinking that, she didn't want it to be his fault. It was Yaag's fault that she was stuck with him, not Sazh's.

"He would have found another way to make me say yes eventually, and it's likely he would have done it in the exactly the same way. It'd probably have been Butterfly if it hadn't been Dajh. Nothing was going to get me out of it, I was doomed the moment my mother gave him permission for my hand." She sounded like she was panicking, she guessed she was. She wasn't sure why she was thinking like she was, she just was, that was all there was to it. What scared her the most at the moment was not that Sazh wouldn't listen to her, that he wouldn't agree, but that she knew every word she said was true. She could say no all she wanted, but in the end the choice hadn't been hers.

His frown didn't disappear, but the look in his eyes changed. It was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, but at the same time, more sadness piled down on him.

"He really would do that wouldn't he?" He said under his breath, and to himself. But at their proximity, hearing him was easy. She wasn't sure how to respond, and she still wasn't sure what to do even after Sazh put a hand on her shoulder, adjusting his hold on his daughter so she didn't slip from his grip with his other arm, and advised her with a stern expression.

"If he ever hurts you and you fear for your life, don't even think about it; just leave. Come to Fang's, because I know I'll be there if that time ever comes. I don't care if no one else wants you there, I'll force them if I have to. There you will have a safe haven, and I will do everything in my power to make sure it is always there."

Nothing else had surprised her that day, but this did. Her eyes went wide in shock, and the ability to speak was lost to her. Why would someone she barely knew want to do so much? She was a horrible and irritating person at the worst of times, why didn't he care about that?

"Why?" The word left her lips, but even without him saying anything, she already knew the answer.

"I know it came at a price, but you saved my son's life. You have given me the chance to be reunited with someone who means so very much to me. You have given me and my family a proper opportunity at life, and for that we will be forever grateful. I could never repay you for what you've done, but I will try. And protecting you is a start."

For a while, she could only stare back blankly, too taken aback to say anything. So Sazh talked first. He took his arm away and wrapped it back around his daughter, before stepping away as well.

"I best be going, before that godforsaken man finds I'm still here. I know the address of the house that Fang lives in, but I still have to find it." He smiled as warmly as he had when she'd entered the room, as Dajh who'd been staring out the window ran over to his side.

"I'll see you later then, Lightning."

She grinned, "I forgot I got you calling me that."

"And I've been forgetting it isn't your real name." He grinned back.

"I'll see you then." She shrugged.

He nodded, "See you for now." He waved back to her as he exited through the grand front door.

She lingered for a moment longer before turning on her heel to leave, only for the old man who she'd forgotten was even there spoke up and stopped her.

"Lightning? Is that your name, I could have sworn Menna told me it was something more normal." She wasn't sure if he said it to himself or to her, considering he'd named someone without explaining who they were made her think he'd been speaking to himself, but it had been posed so much like a question that she couldn't change her mind that he'd been speaking to her.

So, just in case, she replied to him. "It's Claire actually."

"I like Lightning better." He decided.

"You'd be the first." He seemed like an interesting old man, she wondered what he'd been talking about to Sazh.

"Preposterous, it's a wonderful name." He chuckled as he shuffled out of the room, leaving her alone.

Later in the day, Claire did more exploring, by herself since she was unable to locate Butterfly. During this time she wouldn't have minded running into the peculiar old man she had seen earlier, only she didn't see a single glimpse of him either, but the same went for Yaag, so that at least was a good thing. She'd never had to move houses before, so being here and knowing it was hers was a strange feeling. She decided to make herself familiar with the layout of the house, as a starting point to erase the feeling. She memorised where her room was, as well as where the kitchen and dining room were, she also mapped out where the hallways led to. As she did this she found a moderately sized room filled with rosy red couches, a glass table in the centre, and a fire place in the corner. It looked to her like a smaller version of a room her mother would show visitors to. Seeing as it was so close to the entrance hall, she deduced it was a room meant to accommodate guests in. If that was so, it looked to her like this room would be used very rarely if at all.

Eventually, she began to tire from the constant walking around, and seeing as she couldn't think of anything better to do, she went outside, half to make herself get used to her new surroundings, half for some fresh air. The servants seemed like nice people themselves, but the further away from Yaag she was, the better. She was going to stay away from him as much as possible, if she had no reason to be near him, she would run off in the opposite direction. It seemed like a good plan to her.

It was late afternoon by this time, the sun casted an orange light on the sky and all below. She sat on a grass patch close to the house and watched the branches of the trees opposite blow in the wind. They were a ways away from town, she found out, when she took a proper look around the place. She could spot a number of large houses situated outside the main area, like hers, but none as big or as far away. Most were white, and of an extravagant make. It looked to her like North Bodhum was a popular place for rich people to move to. She knew most of the inhabitants of the houses she could make out were not miners who'd struck it rich. She remembered her father telling her years ago that many miners who found gold moved to places like Nautilus or Palumpolum, unless it was a large mine, they wouldn't quite have the money to move to Eden, but they would be close. It was the most expensive city you could hope to live in.

North Bodhum was a simple town, larger than your everyday village, but not as big or as bustling as a city. Serah had told her that two years back, the conversation had started on gold mines and they'd gotten a little off subject. Claire supposed that some people preferred to live here because they did not want to deal with the stress of a city life, but didn't want to live in a small town either. The north end of Bodhum was mostly filled with rich people, so the town had many restaurants and high end stores for the wealthy to find whatever they wanted. Closer to the middle of town, miners and the like from South Bodhum hanged about. Bars and whorehouses abounded down there apparently. She was sure whoever had originally said that to her hadn't known the truth themselves. She wondered if it had been a random everyday idiot, or her father who'd been telling her about the mines. They talked about them a lot when she was a child, the first time they'd talked about them was when she had asked why were some miners very poor, and why were some very rich. She hadn't known that not all struck the jackpot. She hadn't known it could take years to have any results. She hadn't understood why people went so far for something that may not even succeed. Back when she was really little, she hadn't known how big a gap her family had to people who were poor, she didn't know how little they really had. Her father was the only one who'd bothered to teach her.

The chirp of a bird snapped her back to reality. She eyed the singing creature, up on a branch near her head. She noticed that the sun was sinking closer to the horizon, not quite dipping in yet. She guessed it was best to head back in now. She hopped up and brushed the dirt and fallen leaves from her navy blue dress. She brushed another that had fallen down and had gotten tangled in her pink locks. She walked back to the front steps slowly, at a leisurely pace. She had no real reason to return but that it was late and she was reluctant to stay out in the dark. Butterfly might needlessly worry herself too if she was unable to find her, and she wasn't a fan of that happening.

She was halfway to the door when suddenly out of nowhere a person's head appeared in the corner of her sight. Shock hit her and she jumped back at the stranger's unexpected arrival. Claire eyed them with apprehension as she put distance between them. The woman had her knees bent and her head tilted to the side, the position she'd been in when she made her way into her vision. In the seconds that followed, the woman expression showed very little, only for her then to stand up straight and her face to split into a grin.

"Ah! I was right!" She laughed. She was dressed in a short sleeved grey dress edged in black with oddly placed yellow on the sleeves and bust. Her skin was tan, with a mess of raven hair and bright jade eyes. Claire's only thought was that the woman was of Pulsian descent, as she resembled very strongly most of the Pulsian natives she had seen growing up.

She was just about to question the woman and what she meant by her being right when the woman took off, running to a girl standing a few metres away behind them. She was dark skinned and fairly short. The shy way she had of holding herself made Claire think of Butterfly, only the resemblance ended there. The shape of their faces, their skin tone, they differed. She lowered her head in embarrassment as the Pulsian woman stopped in front of her.

"I told you I was right, and you told me I was crazy." She grinned joyfully.

"I never said crazy…I…just thought it was unlikely. No one would blame me." She bit her lip and pouted, turning her head to look away.

"Still doesn't change the fact I got it right." She laughed and ran back to Claire.

Claire sighed and turned away, hoping for the woman to leave her alone. Only unfortunately, she didn't.

"Hey, wait up!" She called, "What are you doing here?"

Claire debated whether to answer, or escape inside. In the end, she choice to answer, not fully sure why she did. She pointed to the house, "I live there."

The woman raised her eyebrows and whistled. "Wow, nice place. Since when?" She asked as she invaded the others personally space quite substantially.

She was given a look of exasperation. Not another question, Claire thought, she just wanted to go inside. She had no idea why she'd actually chosen to be nice for once, she wished she hadn't, because now she felt like she had to keep it up.

"Since today." She tried to make it come out in her tone that the conversation was now over, and she was sure she'd been successful, only it seemed the stranger decided to go right ahead and ignore it.

"Why? You married or something? That's why I'm here." She looked genuinely curious, but Claire wasn't exactly in the mood to keep answering, but sadly what she chose to say just gave their little conversation reason to grow longer.

"I'm sorry for whoever you're married to." The woman seemed annoying, very annoying, to say the least. Claire hoped that for the people she knew that she was just over excited for god knows what reason, and was merely creating a bad first impression.

"Well, that's mean. I don't see him that much anyway because of his work. Besides, he would have nothing to do with me if he found me that annoying. We're only married because he's my friend and we were trying to get away from our parents interfering with our lives." She was grinning as she said it, but immediately after her grin changed into an expression of alarm. "Oh crap, I just said that out loud didn't I…? Got told not to do that." She laughed awkwardly, scratching the nape of her neck. "Just pretend you didn't hear that."

"Too late." Claire said, more to mess with her then anything. She'd been too polite for her liking during the whole time.

The woman didn't take it negatively as she had expected her to, but instead laughed, "Should have expected that, you don't find that weird at all do you?"

Claire shrugged, and begun to walk off. "I don't know, is that weird or is it normal? I don't really care. It's probably worse that I didn't truly agree to the man I'm married to about getting married. "

The woman's face turned to show sadness for a moment, but it was gone a second later. She expected her to ask about it, but instead she asked, "Hey, you're the Farron's daughter aren't you? Did your house get attacked too?"

Claire raised an eyebrow but did not question. Many houses had been attacked by rogue soldiers, it happened both in Pulse and Cocoon, but Pulse took most of the blow. It didn't surprise her that this woman had lost her home as well. "Yes, it burnt down. My mother and a handful of the slaves died."

The stranger offered her sympathy, "I'm sorry to hear that. Both of my parents died, I'm not sure on the state of the slaves, no one bothered to mention them."

"Don't say sorry, she was a horrible person. I'm sorrier for the slaves than for her. At least they were decent people, even if they hated me just like she did." Her tone was stern, and dead serious.

The woman blinked in surprise, but calmed down relatively quickly. "It's the same with me then. Both my parents were positively dreadful human beings. They even locked up a perfectly sane child in a mental facility." There was a harsh undertone as she talked.

Claire chose not to question, so she could quicken the conversation up so it could meet its end. She waited five seconds, waiting for the Pulsian woman to continue talking; she didn't, so Claire decided she would take her leave now. She pivoted around and headed for the door once more, on the first step the woman called out happily,

"Hey, do you think I could see you again?"

She sounded incredibly happy about the idea, but Claire wasn't.

"No." She replied, and shut the door on her.

Through the wall, the last thing she made out the Pulsian woman saying was her yelling out: "Damn it, I forgot to introduce myself!"

She wondered why that bothered her so much, but decided to forget about it. She couldn't see a reason why she'd be stuck dealing with her any time in the future.

When Claire walked back inside, she was hit immediately by the thought, what on earth was she meant to do now? She'd gone outside to give herself something to do, just because some time had passed didn't at all mean she would magically have something to do now. So she found herself wandering around again, to make it less boring, she tested herself to see if she could still remember where all the hallways led to. She was correct for the most part. This house offered more differences than her old home, which had, with the exclusion for a few, identical doors everywhere. The halls had near perfect symmetry to add to it. That wasn't to say that all the doors were different in this new house, but they weren't identical, some had different nobs, some were made of slightly lighter or darker wood. The halls looked different thanks to small tables littered with ornaments and the elegant paintings that dotted the walls. It was clear that Yaag had gone out of his way to show off that he was rich; she supposed that this was for any future visitors, for if it was for her, his idiocy would be proven. She guessed though, that this house was better looking inside then her old house, she'd never fancied much the high ceilings decorated by the most extravagant chandeliers you could hope to find. She had disliked the grandness of that house, it had gone way past her limit, she felt like it had screamed 'look at me, I'm rich!' She blamed this on her mother, and past owners of that mansion. Her father had been rich indeed, but he would rather spend it on others then on himself. He was too generous.

At dinner time she was called to the dining room and made to eat. She had run in to Butterfly on the way there, and was able to calm the teen down over how she had been unable to find her before. She told her that she had been sitting outside, close to the house. The poor girl begun to worry again, so Claire had to tell her three times over that nothing bad had happened, and was made to tell her that all that had occurred during her short time out of the house was a conversation with an annoying woman who had barged into her personal space. Butterfly giggled at that, returning to normal, she claimed that was Young Miss's description of everyone.

At dinner, she sat as far away from Yaag as possible, it was uncomfortable to be alone with him, she was glad the dining table was needlessly large. It was a rectangle table, which could fit five on each side. She took one of the end chairs, as he sat near to the other end, on the left side. She caught an angry spark in his eye, possible from her obviously avoiding him. They ate in silence, and right after she finished she stood up and swiftly exited the room. She tried to act calm while doing it, but knew she had failed. No one would leave so fast if they were calm. She wondered if she had looked angry, and not merely unsettled at the idea of being near him.

She had originally wanted to speak with Butterfly, seeing as that was the better option out of them all, but after searching around for ten minutes without success, she went up to the master bedroom. She knew where it was, though this was her first time setting foot inside it. It was large and square, with the bed in the middle. It was made of a dark wood, with white and baby blue sheets. On the left was wardrobes and whatnot, on the right was a window, it poked out slightly and the sill was padded with cerulean cushions that seemed to be very soft. You could sit on it if you chose to. She was aware there was a set of nightgowns for her in the wardrobe, so she opened it up, found one and changed into it. For a time she sat on the sill, initially to test if it was actually possible, and then because it was softer than she'd originally thought and she didn't want to get up. She had decided to go to sleep after coming up here, but even though it was now dark out, she didn't feel like it anymore. She was tired and felt drained, despite doing very little, but wasn't in the mood to go to sleep.

She was concerned, and it put her off the idea of rest, there was no way she could get herself to sleep when her mind wouldn't calm down. She couldn't take being near Yaag for a day, that showed with how glad she was when she didn't run into him, and how quickly she had left during dinner. If she couldn't take a day, how was she going to put up with him for the rest of her life?

That, she didn't know. So, for now, she enjoyed what time she had to herself, which she believed she'd be enjoying more than ever nowadays, with having such a vile man for a husband. Sadly, her alone time didn't last for near as long as she would have liked.

Claire heard the door creak open and twisted her head to take a look. Yaag walked in in a disgruntled mood, undoing the buttons on his shirt. She turned back to continue gazing out the window, off in her own little world, she hoped he would just get into bed and ignore her. She preferred that.

"Get over here." He called, frustration abounding in his tone. She wondered if he'd gotten into an argument with a servant, for something must have happened to put him in this mood, and she could not have done it so easily.

"No." She shot back, seeing no reason in attempting to return him to a calmer disposition.

He grumbled and muttered something under his breath. "Get over here now!" He called again, louder this time.

"I see no reason to." She replied steadily, remaining on the sill, facing the glass.

He muttered a string of curses before screaming at her, "You are my wife, you will do what I tell you to do! Now get over here!"

In return, she sent him a look, which expressed very little, since she was in the mood to ignore him, before once again putting her attention on the blackness of the outside. The moment she did not show any sign of agreeing, he stormed over to her side of the room and yanked her up, so she stood by him. A flame of anger burned in his eye.

"Don't ignore me when I speak to you!" She hadn't expected to get him so riled up so quickly, she hadn't taken into consideration that his foul mood may have been worse than it'd appeared.

He threw her onto the bed and removed his shirt. "You are my wife, so you'll do whatever I tell you to do, and you will do it, regardless of what it is." His tone was as cold as ice, and sent a shiver through her. She knew what he wanted, but she'd rather claw her own throat then let him.

"Get away from me!" She said through gritted teeth.

"I see no reason too." He replied, mocking her by repeating what she'd told him earlier.

Seeing that words had no use, she turned to fighting him off. Her hands went to swipe at his face, hoping she could claw at the skin, only he caught her by the wrists and stopped the attack. He forced them up beside her head as he climbed on top of her.

"I really can't see what use fighting is, it isn't like it'd work." He smirked at her, maybe he found it funny that he'd found something she couldn't win at, because anything verbal he could rend useless.

Claire tried to jerk her arms out from under his grasp, but made little to no progress with the endeavour. She absolutely hated to admit to it, but physically, he was stronger. He grinned at her failure, and the desperation in her eyes. She wanted out, but he would not give that to her. As her poor attempts of freeing herself increased, he'd had had enough of enjoying her suffering, and decided to get on with things, to do what he came here to do.

He unbuckled his belt and threw it away, the buckle made a clicking sound as it hit the ground. She grimaced and looked away, not wanting to see anything. She heard a short chuckle slip from his lips.

"A funny woman aren't you? Too scared to look upon her own husband." He grabbed her face and tried to turn it to face him; she managed to put up enough of a fight that he gave up before he achieved success. He made a sound in annoyance, but did not try again, instead muttering, "It doesn't matter anyway, it won't stop me from getting what I want."

The urge to vomit rose in her as he talked; only it never managed to reach the level where she actually needed to.

He grabbed the hem of her nightgown, and begun to lift it up, only for her to freak out and grab his arm by the wrist and scream out, "No! Don't!" She wanted him to stop, that was all she could think, nothing else mattered but stopping him right here, right now.

Yaag growled at her and smacked her hands away. "How dare you!"

"How dare you!" She screamed back. "Get off of me!"

He whacked her across the face and yelled, "You cannot say that to me, this is my right!"

"I'll claw your eyes if you continue!" She snarled. She meant what she said, she was willing to do anything if it's stop him.

"Let's see you try." He laughed, because he knew she wouldn't get the chance, he'd overpower her like earlier.

Her stomach sank, because she knew that he was right.

When Yaag reached down to remove her nightgown again, her fear made her redo what she'd done before, much to his annoyance.

"No!" She barred his way with her hands. Again he whacked them away.

"Well, if you're going to make things difficult for me, might as well." He muttered in a voice he was straining to keep as calm as possible, only for him to fail horribly. As he finished the sentence, he grabbed her nightgown around the middle, and tore it across, creating a large rip in the fabric, revealing the bare skin of her torso.

Her face flushed and she tried to hide herself beneath her arms, only for him to pull them out of the way.

"Now there's no need for that is there?" Yaag smirked, causing her want to puke to rise. He lifted the remains of the gown up above her chest with one hand, holding down her arms with the other.

"Now, why were you so scared of hiding this? Many women would kill to have a body like yours." He asked, in a dark voice, running a hand down her length. She shivered and almost vomited.

There was a moment where nothing happened, and then he entered. Claire bit her lip as pain flared up inside her, she felt like she was being ripped apart on the inside. All her mind could think was that she was in agony, and she wanted it to stop. Only it kept on hurting, and didn't die down at all. With each stroke brought brand new pain, as time bore on his nails dug into the skin of her arms, as her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip, drawing blood. She tried to hold on, to keep it all inside; that she was in pain, that she felt like her mind was being shattered with each passing second. Eventually, it grew too difficult, and tears streamed down her face, whether it was for the pain, or the disgust she felt, she couldn't say. She wanted him to think it was for the pain, and not for her own weakness.

It wasn't as if he noticed them anyway, he found too much enjoyment in what he was doing to care for what she felt. She was sure only a few minutes had passed since he'd entered the room, but to her, it had felt like an eternity of hell. When it was over, he pulled out of her, and she scrambled to the other side of the bed, tugging her ruined nightgown back over her. Spent, he climbed onto the bed and went under the covers, falling fast asleep in a matter of minutes. Her face was painted with lingering tears and dried blood from her lip. She couldn't sleep here, not near him, not near anyone.

She rubbed her arms, feeling freezing cold. Drops of blood clung to her fingers as they brushed past the cuts he'd caused by digging his nails into her near the end. They, like her lip, stung. But it was nothing compared to the sickness in her stomach, and the pain she felt in her lower body. She'd heard a rumour that the first time hurt, but she'd never been so sure until now. She didn't expect it would be so bad, however, she felt like it would have hurt the same even if he'd done it before, being as rough as he had been. After suppressing the urge to empty her stomach of its contents, she got up to leave the room. Only after taking the first step, her legs buckled as pain spread, and she fell to the ground, hitting her head on the wardrobe and losing her battle of keeping her food down at the same time. She retched again and again in a corner of the room, until she was throwing up nothing but bile. She bit her lip again, wincing as her teeth landed on the cut.

She felt weak, physically and mentally. She was so sure that she was stronger than all the stupid woman she passed by daily, but now, she wasn't sure. She didn't know what she should be thinking. Everything was in scrambles. After sending a look back to the man on the bed, she forced herself up, stole the top sheet and wrapped it around herself, before leaving the room behind.

It was dark; no one was awake at this time. She couldn't make out a thing, so she felt the wall with her hands and made her way downstairs that way. She found her way to the entrance hall, and from there she wandered down a hallway, to one of the small rooms she had found earlier. It was the one she figured was meant for entertaining guests, the one she guessed would be used near to no times at all. She didn't expect anyone to find her here. She wrapped the sheet tighter around her and crawled into a ball on the largest couch, forcing herself to go to sleep. It was fitful, uncomfortable and filled with bad dreams, but she was able to rest for a few hours. She woke early morning, when the sun was yet to rise. She felt disorientated, and for a moment was confused as to where she was, before remembering that she was in a guest room, after leaving her own room to get far away from Yaag.

Claire stared into space for what in every possibility was a full ten minutes, before noticing the person standing in the corner of her sight. It was the old man she'd seen yesterday, the one who'd been talking to Sazh, the one who had actually told her that Lightning was a 'wonderful name'.

"Are you alright Lightning?" She wasn't sure it she found it amusing or strange that he referred to her by that name. Her thoughts were still all over the place. She wasn't even sure how to reply, so instead she said back,

"Shouldn't you be calling me Mrs Rosch or some crap like that?" She must have sounded angry, she thought she did anyway. But instead of reacting negatively, the old man smiled.

"Well, considering the state you're in, I don't think that's a good idea. I'd feel very impolite to call you by your first name, and though I suppose I could call you Young Miss like that girl who was following you around yesterday, I'd think it strange to call a married woman a name like that. It sounds like a child's name."

'And Lightning isn't strange at all?' She was going to ask that, but it never left her mind, instead she questioned,

"The state I'm in?" It was how he'd started his explanation. He gave her a sympathetic look, and shook his head.

"You don't need to explain anything, if it hurts to."

She felt dazed, so she only half understood him, but after looking at herself in the sliver of a mirror on top of the fireplace, she understood his words fully. The cuts on her arms were scabbing; her lip was cut, with dried blood covering her chin; a bruise was present on her cheek where he'd slapped her. Her pink locks were dishevelled, her skin was pale, and she had bags under her eyes from lack of sleep. She looked like she was about to drop dead.

She looked back over to the old man, his look of sympathy remaining. He attempted to smile, but the warmth she had seen in his other smiles was not present. He sat down on the end of the couch and stated speaking.

"Years ago, my daughter married a man, a horrible one at that. I was away at the time, and could do nothing to stop it. My wife just wanted her out of the house, because we couldn't keep paying for her living expenses. She was a ray of sunshine in my life when she was growing up, even when work became too much, and I was being crushed under the pressure, all I had to do was look at her face, and I'd be revitalised. My wife was not a bad person, but she didn't feel the same.

When I came back home, to find her married off to a man I'd never met before, I was quite upset, but that did not compare to when I saw her. She was a shell; her light had been sucked out of her. I was devastated, I felt sick. I warned her to leave her husband; that she should stay with me, for I'd keep her safe. She told me everything was fine, I think we both knew that was a lie. He was abusing her. But she kept that a secret to stop me from worrying too much. She didn't want to put any pressure on me, but all I really wanted was for her to tell me the truth. A few years went by, and she was gone. He beat her to death after bearing him a daughter for the third time in a row."

Claire watched the man in talk in silence, unsure how she should be responding to his story and also unsure why he was revealing it.

"I wanted to help her so badly, but, from the start, I was already too late. I've always regretted not helping her. So I told myself, that if I met another in that situation, I will do everything in my power to save them, and only then I can die happy."

"What are…?" Claire tried to ask, losing her voice halfway.

He twisted around, to look at her face to face. His expression was a serious one, one she hadn't expected the man to be capable of. "If things turn bad, really bad. Run, I promise I'll do everything in my power to help you."

She stared, shocked. Twice since she'd been here, she'd be promised that. Twice. It seemed too bizarre to think possible.

She lowered her head and look away. "It's obvious, how horrible he is, isn't it?"

"Why of course, that man is the devil himself."

My beta's comments on this was, the sentences at the start dragged on too much (which I fixed up somewhat) and I LOVE THAT OLD MAN!

And yes she wrote it in capitals. Gotta say, I like him too. He was no one when he was standing by the door, but by the end of the chapter, he was fully formed awesomeness. True fact.

Hope you enjoyed, feel free to review, I love receiving them, thanks to all who have in the past, it makes me so happy that you care enough about the story to drop a little review.

Jya ne,

~Serah Villiers Valentine