"What the hell?!" I exclaimed, thoroughly shocked that a person had just fallen out of this tiny compartment that was underground. A live person.

I was treasure hunting in some caves in the wildernesses of Skyrim, making my living like usual when I had encountered a band of mean vampires that had attacked me the second they saw me.

They all were dead, and I was excited to see the treasure they were after. Until I found out it was a fucking person.

She was currently on her hands and knees on the ground, and she had midnight black hair that was shoulder length and old fashioned garb. She raised her head to look at me, and my eyes widened.

Her eyes. Were glowing, like fire. Her skin was pale, her features a bit angular for a human's.

So, she is a vampire as well.

I watched her and sensed no aggression from her.

But at least one that isn't bloody attacking me.

"Wha…?" She blinked at me, and I bent down and helped her up.

"Are you okay, miss?" I asked her, a bit worried that she had just been previously locked in the damned floor for God knows how long. She leaned on me as she processed my words.

"I… am okay." She straightened up and met my curious gaze. "I… thank you for releasing me." Then she flinched and stared into my eyes, seeming to have realized something. "You are mortal?"

She took a step back from me and covered her nose, her eyes widening as she regarded me curiously. I raised an eyebrow at her, and decided to be honest.

"I was just exploring when I met some people down here. I couldn't even let out a 'hello' before they attacked me." I cocked my head at her. "They were after you, and I sincerely apologize for killing them if they were your friends. But I would advise against having such rash friends in the future; attacking strangers is just plain rude."

I looked around the main chamber one last time, not seeing anything else loot-able, and turned towards the entrance to leave.

"Wait!" I heard her call behind me, and I looked over my shoulder to see her face confused. "I think those vampires may have known me, but I don't blame you for killing them."

That statement made me turn around and give her a confused look. She looked around the chamber, looking completely lost, and I could see panic begin to form behind her eyes.

"I… don't remember much, and I don't remember why I'm here…" she murmured, looking worried. "I can only remember where my home is, but I…"

I thought for a moment, and determined I didn't really have anywhere to be in the near future. I walked back over to her.

"You can follow me for a bit if you want. Where is your home?" I asked her. She blinked at me.

"In the north-west, I think. On the coast."

I nodded.

"I've been meaning to visit a friend in Solitude for a while now, and that is on the way." I smiled at her. "Care to travel that way together?"

She nodded her head slowly, and I watched a bit of concern leave her expression.

"Yes, thank you…"

I smiled at her again and turned to leave.

"I'm Serana. And it doesn't, um, bother you that I am a…?"I heard her ask hesitantly behind me. I shook my head.

"People are people. It's not really my business what you eat." I started towards the entrance to the cave. "Though, I'd appreciate it if you didn't make me your meal, but you seem to be a decent person so I'm not too worried." I smiled at her over my shoulder. "And I'm Nadia. It's a pleasure to meet you, Serana."

I had many revelations about myself as I spent hour after hour, day after day in the same cage, the same corner of the same room, doing nothing but observing the free moving world around me and eating the food they gave me. The four meals they gave me every day were like a sweet heaven. At first I ate as fast as I could, not giving a single flying fuck and only living on impulse as my starved body screamed for food. After about a week or so I slowed down and remembered how to enjoy taste.

Because it was actual food now, like a loaf of bread and soup or a blessed sandwich, instead of a mushy substance.

I have a pail, my little bucket where I relieve myself so I don't have to lay in my own filth anymore. In the beginning it was humiliating to awkwardly maneuver myself in the cramped space; feeling like out in the open for anyone in the large master room to see me, but Harkon never cared enough to look up so I stopped caring, too. Frank comes in every day to replace my bucket, after giving me a glare of resentment, and so far hasn't hit me or anything. When Serana brings my food, she also brings a clean wet rag so I can try and clean myself a bit. In the beginning I had to scrub off layers of filth and blood, and now any rashes I had from the dirtiness have begun to go away. All of these occurrences probably take up an hour or two of my day. The rest of my day is pure, torturous boredom.

But my prison had only turned from one condition and location to another, and I would not, for a second, allow myself to be content with any form of imprisonment.

Especially because this prison had different pains. I no longer felt hunger pains all of the time, and for the most part, Lord Harkon beat me much less than Frank had. Harkon actually rarely touched me, the only times when he would inspect my health condition by seeing how bony my ribs were or if my many bruises had begun to heal. This morning he had come in to change my bandage on my arm for the last time, the deep cut healing quickly with all of the intent care I have been receiving lately.

No, the pains I am feeling now are not physical. They are mental. Psychological.

I rarely felt frightened with Frank in that dank dungeon. Yes, I would fear him the second before he kicked me, I would feel fear right before someone came close to bite my neck and shoulders. But here, I feel afraid all of the time.

Not for myself, of course. But for Serana.

Harkon hasn't touched her since the first time he threatened me. That is because I have been quiet since then; I have let them feed me, I have let them fix my body.

I've been such a good little pig, haven't I!

That thought made me angry again, at myself for being so complacent. I want to spit his food on the ground and curse him for everything he has done, every second of every day. Instead I have swallowed my pride, knowing my health was really in danger to the point where my life was on the line.

Fine. Let him feed me and water me like his favorite livestock. I can't do anything if I am as weak as a wilting flower.

When she comes in to give me meals, Harkon is always there, sitting at his desk, watching. His eyes bore into mine, daring me to try and escape, daring me to not eat the drugged food. I know he could stop me in a second in my condition, and he knows that I know that he could do what I feared more, that he could punish his own daughter to punish me.

And I know he would do it…

He is a fucked up, piece of shit monster.

I shifted in my cage, moving my weight from my tailbone to my knees. The hard metal was unforgiving, and yet better than little pointy pieces of leftover bits of dead things. Harkon was at his desk, writing on his papers about whatever he writes about. His black quill trailed across the paper methodically, his posture still, with a calm confidence.

His fire eyes glanced up at me, feeling my gaze. I tried my best to remove the scowl on my face.

He kept my gaze for a few moments, regarding me, basically a piece of his furniture at this point, with a bored air, before quietly resuming his writing.

My hands tightened into fists.

Quiet, Nadia. Patience.

I tried to look away from him and focus on something else, but a question had been bugging me.

"Do you honestly believe I will return to health in a birdcage where I can barely move my limbs?"

My voice sounded scratchy. I had made a huge effort to make the question sound unbiased, and untainted with my anger. I began to tremble as Harkon refused to acknowledge me.

"You could, I don't know, tie a pretty leash around my throat and give me some exercise once in a while."

I coughed then, my throat dry. I immediately regretted my snarky comment as I saw Harkon look up at me and put his quill down. My eyes watched his every move as he got up from his desk and reached for one of the glasses of wine on his desk and moved towards my cage. I unconsciously backed into a corner as he approached me.

He bent down slowly, taking his time, and unlocked the lock on my cage door. I watched him open the door and lock onto my eyes before placing the wine inside. I barely registered the drink, my eyes focused on his expression. His eyes were as hard as they always were. The lines on his ageless forehead permanently tensed, the embers glowing in his irises held his harnessed rage. But his mouth, formed something different. The edge of one side was lifted ever so slightly in amusement.

One of his hands grasped my chin, and the other guided the wine to my mouth. I flinched at his touch and glared at his hands, but clenched my hands into fists as I allowed him to help me drink. The wine washed down and quenched my throat, and I was surprised once again as his light amusement turned into a laugh.

"Alas, I only have rope. Not nearly as pretty a leash as my dragonborn deserves."

I cocked my head at him and raised an eyebrow.

"Oh good, a rope. That's reassuring. The only way to get healthy; crawl around with a noose around your neck."

Harkon's eyebrow rose and his tiny smile grew.

"Healthier than antagonizing your captor relentlessly."

"Relentlessly?" I looked aghast. "Excuse me, oh high and mighty captor, I have kept quiet for weeks. I sit when you say 'sit', I respond to my name! How will I learn 'heel' if I can't even walk?!"

"You will learn 'heel' when you learn not to 'speak' without a command."

Harkon chuckled a dark laugh as his eyes watched for my response. He's actually… enjoying this. The thought made me angry. I leaned into his face and glared at him.

"Well guess what. You're a shit owner." He held my gaze intently. "I'd bet your special blood supply tastes like how I am; weak. I hope you choke on it."

Harkon then laughed loudly, startling me with our close proximity. His smile widened.

"Your blood tastes… like everything I've dreamed for." He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply before sighing. He opened his eyes and blinked at me. "I can't even fathom what you will taste like when I've made your body healthy."

I shivered and cringed in disgust, very uncomfortable with how close he was.

"You sick fuck." I said quietly as I pressed my back against the back of my cage and glared at him.

I feel like a cornered rabbit. And to think I used to be the fox.

Now I'm forced to be the prey. And I hate it.

I flinched as he reached towards me, and my muscles tensed as he grasped my arm. He brought it towards him, ignoring my resistance, and he slowly twisted it to see my new scar. His eyes then trailed along my chest and legs, registering the status of my recovering body through the thin rags I had covering me. He sighed.

"I may have been a poor master, but I blame the fool I put in charge of your captivity for your abuse."

I snatched my arm away from him in a quick motion, getting his attention. I spoke quietly, but with intent.

"You are completely to blame for all of my abuse. Keeping a person locked in a cage like a fucking object is as much abuse as any other." I stared at him and he stared at me back, his expression unreadable, as always. "Your sense of entitlement and your blatant disregard for my health and for my worth, along with your own daughter's worth, explains why you are a sociopath with no conscience. One who won't even take responsibility for his own actions."

I grew quiet then, slightly regretting my outburst as I waited for his reaction. He sat quietly there, in the opening of my cage, his eyes watching mine. His breathing was regular, his eyes held no more tension than usual. He sighed deeply.

"I don't know how you have managed to retain your pride, dragonbo-,"

"My name is Nadia."

He blinked, and the corners of his mouth twitched in a smile.

"If it wasn't for the worth of your blood, I would offer you the greatest gift I can give; my family's blessing. That is something I reserve only for the most determined and strong-willed of people, the only people worthy of our power and our immortality."

I blinked then, taken aback by his sudden change in tone from one indifferent to one almost polite. A tone that seems giving.

Did he just… refer to me as a person?

I searched his fiery eyes.

I don't trust him.

"Words are pretty." My muscles shook as I made myself sit up from my cowering position. "But they are weak. I only take you for your actions."

Harkon smiled then, his frown lessening even more. He spoke quietly.

"I expected no less from you."

My brows furrowed in confusion, and anger entered my belly. What the hell…?

Harkon then stood from my cage, but left the door open. I watched him carefully as he strolled over to the door leading out to the corridor and opened it. He glanced at me before leaving and shutting the door after him.

I blinked, thoroughly confused.

What..? Why…?

I waited a minute, but no one entered. The only sounds were the crackles of the fire in the fireplace and my own breathing. My frown deepened as my anger grew.

What does he think this means? That I'll be thankful for this little freedom?

I had little interest in anything in the room, but there was one thing I was curious about. I pushed open the cage door a little more, hearing the old metal creak. I propelled myself forward and crawled out of the cage, my knees hurting against the ground. It felt weird to exist in this room without the cage bars around me; it felt bigger. I grabbed the bars on my cage and used them to help myself to my feet. I wobbled and I leaned against the cage, and I waited for my head to stop spinning. I could feel what remained of my leg muscles tense in my anticipation to take a step, and that was when the door opened.

I looked over and met the gaze of Harkon. He didn't seem surprised to see me out of the cage, and my eyes widened in shock when I saw what he was holding. He held a mound of blankets, pelts of various animals. What…?

He walked over to his desk and laid the pile over his papers. He then turned to address me. It felt alien to speak to him while standing, instead of kneeling.

"For your safety, you are confined to this room. The other residents of the castle do not have the restraint I have when it comes to your blood. In order to regain further health, you may walk in this room, but you will not touch anything on this desk." He picked up the blankets and moved them in front of the fireplace. I tried my best to keep the look of shock and suspicion from my face.

"What's stopping me from stabbing you in the neck while you sleep?" I asked bluntly, and to my great annoyance, elected a chuckle from Harkon.

"My coffin locks from the inside." He strode towards me then, meeting my eyes, his mouth upturned in a sadistic smile. I felt a bolt of fear drive up my spine as he closed the distance between us, and I backed up against the side of my cage, forced to look up at him as he towered over me. I crossed my arms against my chest as a last attempt at security and tried not to let the fear show in my eyes.

"You may have earned my respect." He lifted a hand and lightly touched my face. His fingers were warm and smooth, and his thumb caressed my skin. I flinched and glared at him as he continued. "But you are still my property."

Then, in an instant, I watched the contained rage in his eyes begin to loosen, and my own eyes widened as his bore into mine, a primal hunger entering into his expression.

"Your blood is more precious to me than anything. I will not have anyone else, including you, interfering in my property affairs."

I inhaled audibly as his hand lowered from my cheek to my neck and his fingers tightened, ignoring my resistance. Fear stabbed my stomach as I was reminded of my time in the dungeon, where vampire after vampire would sink their teeth into my neck or my shoulders. Somehow, in that dark dungeon, when I was in much more pain than I am now, with multiple monsters passing me along like the piece of meat I was, that was much less terrifying than right now. Right now; with my stomach full of food and my body in no pain, in a warm and lit room with only a single monster holding me; this one, powerful man, terrified me.

I lifted my hands and pushed against his chest, but he had my neck in his grip, tightening with every attempt I made at moving. The last few glimpses of sanity in his expression melted away as he lowered his face to mine.

"You…have recovered enough…to be tested…" he whispered almost feverishly, and I felt a tear fall on my cheek as I growled at him, pushing against him and straining to get away from his nearing mouth. He had me pushed up against the cage, and I could do nothing but squeeze my eyes shut and try to contain my scream as he pressed the side of his face against mine to nudge my head to expose my neck. I inhaled as I felt him scrape his teeth against my skin, his warm breath causing shivers to join my struggling, and a sharp sting of pain flared when he sunk his canines into my throat.

He gripped me for a few seconds that felt like an hour as his tongue licked my blood from my skin before his lips closed on the wound to begin to suck. My arms were trapped in between our chests and I pushed against him the whole time, my teeth gritting against the pain, against the violation.

He moaned against my skin as he tilted his head and brought me closer, and I felt his deep voice rumble in his chest against mine. One of his hands held the back of my head, and the other pressed against my lower back to keep me in place. My head started to feel light and I began to see black spots in the corners of my vision.

"Too…much…" I breathed out and began to pant in fear. My legs gave out then and I began to slide down along his chest before his grip caught me. In an instant, the pain in my neck turned numb and I felt his mouth slowly leave my skin. I struggled to make my legs work but before I could process anything more, Harkon lifted me from the floor and held me against him in his arms. I blinked as he moved us towards the fireplace and I felt my head loll to the side as he lowered me to the ground. I expected the ground to be hard and cold, like always, but was instead met with the unfamiliar warmth of an animal pelt. I regained a bit of consciousness to register that I was lying on a bed of sorts, next to the warm fireplace.

I felt his presence leave my side for a few moments and I relaxed from the relief, but my eyes shot open when I felt pressure on the wound on my neck. My head throbbed from the blood loss, but I registered the pressure was Harkon wrapping linen around my neck and tying it securely. In my last few bursts of strength I tried to shove his hands away, and I kept my eyes open long enough to look up to meet his eyes with a glare. His embers seemed to glow even brighter than usual, and almost all lines of tension were gone from his frown. I opened my mouth to try and say something, but the black on the edges of my vision grew and took my vision as my muscles relaxed into the warm pelts.

I forgot how soft a blanket can feel…