A/N: I do not own Darkest Dungeon or anything affiliated with the brand. This is just a fanfic from an amateur writer. Warning: World Building, Unreliable Narrator, Dark, Everyone is Broken, Flashbacks, Horror, Death, Stress, Traumatic Pasts, Human Trafficking, Abuse, Child Abuse, Rape, Hey Did I Mention Dark? Cheesy Romance, and Gamer tropes. I do not make any money off this story. Thank you for your time and my gratitude to Red Hook Studios.

"Talking"

'Thinking'

Memories

Casting/Skills/Words of Great Power or Meaning

The Ancestor Speaks

The Others

Previously

Leaving the church, I make sure to pass by the Jester and his catch of the day. With my free hand, I dust off my skirt twice near him and then continue onto the bustling city. A song of longing lovers and well wishes breaks out behind us.

'One of the few songs that don't end in tragedy.' I note while walking with my new hero. The Sun beats down overhead as the crowd swallows us and then sweeps us away from the church.

Ch 4: Getting Affairs in Order

Sunlight streams past crocked shutters into a modest room. Complete with a threadbare bed, a couple of rotted wooden chests, a creaking table and chair, and the true luxury of a diminutive separate room. Complete with two buckets and a cloth. 'Home for another day.' I assist Reynauld to the chair and went to gather the cleaning bucket and cloth.

"Take off your armor. It can't be comfortable when you are still covered in sick."

He protests, "I-I. That isn't proper My Lady."

"You can barely lift your arms, never mind walk properly."

Near the end of our journey, I was practically puppeteering him to force him to walk and not show weakness. I pay half a mind as I use some of the last dredges of power to heat the water to something close to pleasant. Luxury in the face of weakness. While he is no doubt used to cold water, he will not forget this kindness.

He looks down in shame, and understanding dawns on me. Exhaustion weighs heavily as I set down the bucket on the table, and start to strip him of his armor. 'There's no reason to complain. We made it out intact and alive. That is a victory.'

With more practice and skill than I care to admit, I unbuckle and remove various steel and leather protections. Each placed in proper order on the table and then on the floor.

The task is mostly complete, I reach for trousers, and his hands hold mine gently, "Please?"

A blush covers his entire face. He looks away from me in shame. I take his chin to force him to look back at me and search him. "Let's make a deal then. If by the time I finish cleaning your top half, you can walk to the washroom without stumbling, you can clean the rest. If not, I will finish taking care of my hero. Deal?"

"Deal."

His rich brown eyes are shrouded in shadow and look at me with something akin to wonder and curiosity. His teeth set themselves, and he begins meditating. A show of trust while he shores up strength. Efficiently I use the water and cloth, to wipe down and rinse off the bile, sweat, and other things that accumulated on him. The only thing that mars his skin is the scars of battle.

'Acceptable…Heartbeat is strong, lungs clear, blood runs correctly, and skin is healthy if unnaturally pale. Making his freckles stand out across his back, arms, and face. He'll need more sunlight when we get to a safe area. Maybe have him perform the high noon prays in light armor? A poisoned present, but at least it wasn't diseased as well. I doubt it was intentional, but that's one less expense to expect.'

"Can you walk?"

He startles, regains focus, and nods. Making his way to the separated room, I take the chair and cleaning supplies with me. Only, after he enters the room does he stumble, but I pretend not to see it. It's still within the letter of our deal and his armor still needs to be taken care of. Making sure the water and cloth are within easy reach, I leave the door open behind me. Both to allow some light in and to make it easier to reach him if I must.

Reaching the chests, my eyes narrow at the scratches around the locks. The locks are not broken, but there was an attempt. My mind wanders to the rat-like keeper of the inn and his son that kept stalking my comings and goings. A sinister smile makes its way to my face, but it's a plan for later. For now, I gather some supplies; leather softener, steel oil, and several rags, to set up a cleaning station at the table.

Opening the shutters to allow the sunlight inside, both to get ready and as a mental ritual, I roll up my sleeves, unbind my hair, and step into a patch of light. 'There is work to be done. '

The Light streams in, and my Power catches as much as it can. Perking up like a flower finally getting water. Drawing directly from the Light to nourish and supplement my strength is less efficient than a good meal and sleep, but-

"Lenore? Lenore! Please hold on! I'm going to get us some food. Damn that whore! Please stay with me. Please you're the last family I have left. Please… Dark. Light. I don't care! Please stay, I'm going to get some food. I'll be right back… promise.

The blood-haired boy lays me down, gripping a battered hand scythe, and runs into the dark forest. He searches desperately for something to eat. I reach out for him with a hand so thin I can see every bone. Eventually, that's too much effort, as I struggle to a patch of sunlight. The Light burns me for being of the Dark Blood, but it still provides a bit of nourishment to my Power and then to my body. Enough to keep awake, just a bit longer, Hansal would cry if I went to sleep again.

It doesn't matter.

When I wake up, it's dusk, and a fire is in front of me with a couple of lizards and rats on sticks. Messily chopped up but still cooking. A body is holding me on their lap, their long tangled red hair covers me, and I smile at the face looking at me. "Hey Lenore, you're up, and Look! Food, as I promised, I even found some medicinal herbs to go with it! We're going to eat well tonight."

"Love you, Hans."

He hesitates and looks so sad, "Yeah, love you too Lenore." He stares past the fire, "Happy 7th birthday."

The scrapping of a chair breaks me out of the past, and I look towards a key to a future. Reynauld sits across from me and picks up a piece of equipment. We clean in silence, a sense of harmony and peace in this quiet action.

A raven caws from the window sill, with a heavy package in tow. Filling a small cup with water and then offering it within easy reach of the raven. It allows me to untie and read the letters. It croaks in disappointment from the lack of a treat but is still appeased by the offering. Once it finished, it flew off, not waiting for a reply.

"Lady Lenore?"

"Disappointing, but not unexpected, The Mages' Association will not be lending aid in our efforts. The Adventurer's Guild applies the wait-and-see policy for new Lords. Only after we have established continued success will they think about directing adventurers towards us."

I sigh and tuck some hair behind my ear. I shift my gaze to my hero and lightly slap the letters, "That translates to getting the Guild Hall in my lands restored, and probably includes a sizeable contribution to their Guild Leader…but for now, it's a strong no. The Craftsmen and Merchant Guilds stand with the Adventurer's Guild. Though the Merchant Guild does note that any previous contracts about supply and import still stands."

'Now there are only two places left that have yet to decide. But with the backing I already have, I can tell The Underworld Families exactly where they can stuff their "generous offer." My pride might be in tatters, but I will not whore and breed myself to their leaders for mere offcasts and crumbs.'

My eyes focus on my hero and, more importantly, crusader, 'Well, at least I'll have a big strong representation of the Church beside me when I tell them to jump into the Abyss.'

"We need to finish up your armor. I have an evening engagement, and looks will matter."

"Greeting Heir Adamos! Why I didn't think I would see you." The pimp saunters over and greets me with a kiss on each cheek, before not so subtly grabbing me by the waist and pulling me over to his table. Sliding away from his wandering grasp, I sit on the chair opposing his posse and angled so I could make a clean run to the only available exit in this place. Reynauld is solid, silent, and fuming stands to my right, a barrier between the closest access point between me and the Crime Lord's men.

I simper, "Of course, Rodrigue, after all your family's kindness, it's only right I give my goodbyes."

'I loathe politics, but I don't need their dogs hounding my steps.'

Rodrigue's smile grows wolfish as he takes his place in the center of his group. A woman beside him, dressed in lace and nothing else, leans her head on his lap and starts bobbing. Rodrigue relaxes and waves at a barmaid to get some drinks for the table.

"Oh, I'm going to enjoy tonight, indeed. Now Ms. Lenore, about your family's debts-"

I waved him off, "Paid and cleared. Any debt acquired by my Mother's husband-consort has been paid in full. I have the notation by Toby Victor, your father and head of your family, of this fact. If you wish to contest that fact, then please take it up with him."

He continued, "Now Lenore-"

My voice gives no hint of weakness, "Paid and cleared Heir Victor."

He sighs and slams the whore's head down into his lap where she chokes. "His mistress-"

"Is not nor has ever been my responsibility nor burden. While he may have favored your establishments, that did not give legitimacy to any contracts or promises she offered. Especially not in my family's name. Though my Mother had her poor choice in a husband-consort, she was responsible for him and him alone."

'If you were bought in by the gold digger's sweet nothings, then that's precisely what you'll reap. Good luck on collecting that though. Her last son is quite secured in the Church's clutches.'

"...Let's make a wager-"

"No, means no Heir Victor."

'And I'm finally strong enough to say it.'

The men beside him rustle in agitation, and Reynauld places a hand ready to draw his sword. I hold the back of my hand to my hero's armor to stop him, and Rodrigue uses his hand to gesture 'down' for his men.

Neither of us wants the fight.

Reynauld and I would lose, with both of us dead and a destroyed building left behind. Then Rodrigue would need to explain to his father not only the loss of opportunity into an old noble line but also one of his more prominent establishments. He already has a loss on an open debt by my father's mistress. He does not want to become a disappointment to his father.

We both remember what became of his oldest brother, the late Heir Victor. His father may favor family, however, he does not tolerate disappointments. With his many other brothers whispering poison… he's in a precarious position. One where tying himself as my husband-consort would not only secure his position but cement his superiority as an Heir… despite his lackluster business sense.

'I don't fault you for trying to survive, but don't think for a second I find you acceptable as a bonded. I don't need you to survive, so go fuck right off. I've had a harrowing day already, and I don't have patience for your shenanigans.'

"Now, Lenore, about my offer-"

I wave off the barmaid, and she returns to serving the rest of the table, "A generous one, no doubt." 'No, it wasn't.' "But I must decline, the price is too high. I have no interest in binding myself at this time."

"You need men."

"True, but I'll have to make do with what I've already been offered."

'You could only offer commoners with little to no Powerand maybe, the occasional adventurer. Even If I was left stranded by everyone else, I would still turn down your offer. If I needed to sell myself, I would easily get a better deal elsewhere.'

"Alright," Rodrigue startles like he had a great idea, "Okay, fine Lenore, then let's not waste our last night together. Join me for a couple of hands?" He pulls out some cards and a bulging sack of gold. Some of it spills onto the table, tempting and gleaming in the torchlight.

'The Abyssal-born pimp is trying to play me. This is the near-exact way my devil's luck of a father won the binding of my mother. Sadly she was always a sucker for gambling. It's no secret I have the same weakness…'

Some coins blur and distort in the dim light, with a black shadow coating the gold before disappearing out of sight. I recognize the hexed gold mixed in the pot. My smile grows greedy in turn. ' Is that? Did he? Oh, I thought it was just the rat and his son, but no Rodrigue took the trapped bait.'

The sunset bleeds red into our room and over Reynauld armored form, "What do you mean you're meeting with the Crime Lords?!"

"Reynauld, you need to listen to me."

My hero storms and paces inside the small room, no doubt wondering what his fair and noble lady is doing with the worst of the underworld. 'Did I do too good a job at seducing him?'

"First, my estate needs help. No matter who they are, no matter what they've done, they will have a second chance in my home." He slows and turns to me with the dawning realization from my speech to him, what that means.

"Second, my father was not a good man and, even worse, a wastrel who got my family in debt to them." At this Reynauld stills. "I had to sell our manor in the capital, our jewels, near everything to pay them off. And I have. We are free and clear by Lord Victor's own words and contract. It left me with exceedingly little, but we owe them nothing. They still want me in their debt. So they'll be making a play tonight. As this will be the last night, we will be here."

"Third, we will be leaving the Greater City tomorrow. That doesn't change the fact that if I live long enough to have children, I need as many options as possible to protect them. We need to cut ties, not burn bridges or sow grudges behind us."

"Fourth, we won't be meeting Lord Victor tonight, but rather Heir Victor. He is far less dangerous, but he will be desperate. He has constantly failed his father, and if he doesn't get me to agree to be bonded to him. I'm certain that Lord Victor will have him removed. He thinks that I'm alone, weak, and easy to control. But I won't be." I look Reynauld in the eyes, "I will have you."

Reynauld sighs with his entire body screaming exhaustion and grim determination. He kneels before me with a hand over his heart, "You are my lady. By the Light, I serve and follow you."

'Good that he submitted, neither of us can afford the punishment if he disobeyed my wishes.'

"Let's leave early to grab a meal, before attending the meeting. It should go without saying to not eat or drink anything they offer. But first, there is something I need to take care of."

I turn to the two chests in my possession. Emptying both of them, to repack the worse-off chest with supplies and tools needed for the road ahead. Leaving a bag of gold, letters, several empty satchels, a Tome of Holy Healing, and a few of my mother's old clothes and heirlooms.

Reynauld watches as I use magic to copy and shuffle the copied rejection letters into the Vestal's trinket, and weigh out a third of my remaining gold that is then set aside. The original letters, a few grimoires, my mother's diary, and another third of my gold go into a satchel, hidden on my person. My dress and coat give no inclination of its presence. The last third of gold enters a purse while hard to spot but visible on my person.

'Should I send him out? Would it be better to allow his delusions of a Light Lord or show him the truth that I'm a Dark Lord? I…if I'm forced to fight, I can't limit myself. He needs to know that I know the Dark Arts and that I'm willing to use them. It will affect his view of me, but I can't have him surprised in the heat of battle. Better to be honest in the beginning than have it bite me later. I already own him, there's nothing he can do against me.'

"Reynauld, you do remember that I'm an Adamos?" He nods, focusing on me, while I stare at the gold I set to the side. "Please do not forget that Adamos is a Dark Family. I tried to escape that fact by seeking solace in the Light…but not even faith can trump Blood. As Heir and future Lord of a Dark Family, I must not only know the Dark Arts but be willing to use them. While I can seek the Light for my people, by my Blood and Power. I am Damned."

My eyes glow a menacing red, as the Lord's Ring relishes the fact that I'm finally going to use the Power I was born for. Dark shadows surround my hands, as corresponding red light and shadow writhe over a third of gold set aside—a hex of Catastrophe Misfortune with a Thieves Trigger. I don't have the Power to spare to make it into a proper curse that will last beyond a single night, but hopefully, this will catch the rats snooping around.

Reynauld balks at the display, as I finish the spell. He looks like he wants to say something but keeps his tongue. I place the trinket with the letters sticking out next to the hexed gold in the finer trunk, and cover them with the remnants of my mother's clothing. I lock both trunks and then drop the key to the better one so that it's slightly under the bed. Where someone would only notice it if they went to try to open the trunks again.

He watches silently with judgment etched in his very being.

I smile sadly, "I am damned and can't be saved. All I can do is provide a way so others will not have to share my fate as the Night takes me. Now come along, we will need the strength in case Heir Victor tries his luck."

I take him by the arm again and led him out. He's still silent and stiff against me. 'Us leaving early will give the thief time to search…Hopefully, this show won't affect his efficiency and loyalty too much.'

Reynauld grows tense at the sight of the gold., knowing my magic and what that means. Rodrigue passes out handfuls to his men around him. Hexed gold mixed in the bunch, not only cursing their boss but his inner men as well.

'I knew that the inn was owned by the Families but this is an even better result than I could have hoped for. Good thing I showed Reynauld what I had planned, or he might have insisted on having the stolen gold returned or some other righteous nonsense. I didn't just win this gamble. I hit the jackpot.'

I sigh, looking put upon and defeated. "Okay, one hand, and then we leave without issue, agreed?"

"Of course, of course, and if you're feeling up to it, you're more than welcome to stay for more than one hand." He smiled with a blush as the whore finished him. Slapping her on her backside as he sent her off to get customers. She pouted at not getting any of the gold but ultimately sauntered off to keep another man company.

"So first round, bets in."

I place a small stack of gold on the table and slide it to the center. The shuffling and dealing of cards are noticeable, as the men around me grow quiet. I look up as Rodrigue's inner circle fidgets, using thieve's cant to discuss options on how to play me. I have a ten and prince in hand, as a nine, ten, and queen are laid on the table.

'...Just how obvious-? I know you're trying to bait me, but this is in no way subtle. Are you trying to give me a win to get me hooked or cleaned out in the first round? Either way-'

With a smile, "I fold." 'I win.'

Sliding the cards into the center and getting up, "Hey hey hey, wait, you agreed to one hand!"

"Yes, that was one hand. I know when to cut my losses. I also learn from the mistakes of others." A serene smile cuts through the desperate pimp. "Now, my hero and I will be taking our leave. Good night Heir Victor."

I leave without hesitation or a backward glance, with an armored hero at my back. Naturally, we were allowed to leave unaccosted. Walking along the filthy poorly-light streets, a bounty hunter storms past us. He's gripping parchment in a death grip and wearing a jawless skull bead on his helm. 'That one's out for blood.'

Warning: Mentions of Slavery, Rape, Death, and Abuse of Children

I'm crouching in a filthy cage, quite grateful for the bars. As the other kidnapped children outside were screaming and crying in pain and horror. Their clothes ripped, blood and white liquid staining their thighs, and branded with their buyer's marks. The only reason, they haven't reached for me is the fact I unleashed a Lord's Authority on the man who tried. He died, but my secret was out.

That made my value skyrocket, as not only was I a Lord but a virgin female Lord. A great rarity. So they were saving me for the High-Class Auctions. The men around me were greedy but not enough to cross their bosses.

The door slams down into the room, crushing one of the children in front of it. A giant of a bounty hunter stomps on the door, slamming it into the ground with a squelch. A whirlwind of death follows as he cleaves through the men close to him. Anyone out of reach was pierced by a meat hook and dragged into the grinder. With only one entrance, there was as much escape for them as there was for their merchandise.

They weren't prepared for a hero as they took me while running errands for my uncle alone, and I was too young to establish a Claim. I watched in satisfaction as my captors' blood and bone splattered the room, chunks of gore sticking and sliding off the walls and roof. He didn't stop as they pleaded, screamed, and tried to bribe. He didn't stop when they tried to use children as shields. They were cleaved as well. He didn't stop until he was certain that every adult was very dead. He paid no mind as he grabbed the solid iron bars and ripped them off. Only when he gently grabbed me, and held me to his chest did he take a moment to himself. Cradling my body to his in one arm, covered in blood and gristle, he let out a gasping huff. It seemed like he was trying to hold back tears.

Stomping came from the entrance, and rage consumed him once more. He held me against his chest in one hand and wielded a bloody ax in the other as he went to match them. To continue his rampage against the Family that held me. Only stopping with its Lord and Heir heads in his bounty bags and every man inside slaughtered.

He pointed towards the manor at his subordinates, and they rush to complete the clean-up. Far more fearful of their boss than the Crime Family. I watch in fascination at his work, his Power, and notice the new addition to his helm. A jawless skull bead hanging off it.

"I'll get you to somewhere safe…where you can live and grow…"

Through everything, he was always gentle with me. I hugged him and nodded. Words are cheap and unappreciated by Bounty Hunters.

Eventually, we arrive in front of the Holy Church's Sisterhood, where a Holy Mother and Bishop Willem were waiting outside. Gently he lets me down and gives me a gentle push towards them.

He orders, "You will live, and you will thrive."

I nod, stop, and run back to hug him. He nudges me forward again, and I head to the Holy Mother.

"Hahaha, well-done Commissioner, or should I say Head Commissioner." Bishop Willem congrats my godfather.

Godfather stares him down.

Willem coughs, "This will no doubt merit a promotion! Such a brave and virtuous act. And don't worry," The bishop grabs me and holds me in front of him. His hands were on my shoulders, using me as both a threat and shield against my godfather, "we will take good care of your little charge."

Willem offers a hand to my godfather, who takes it. Before I'm taken away to my new home, the skull bead glints satisfied at me.

Scene End: Safe to Proceed.

"Don't touch the gold," I order the passing bounty hunter.

He turns towards me. Rage screaming in his every movement.

I sign the symbol for "Bounty Hunter's child" and repeat, "Don't touch the gold."

The hunter eases for a movement, gives a nod of acknowledgment, and slams the door to Heir Victor's establishment in a very familiar way.

I laugh as we leave, the screams behind us rising in a crescendo as anyone still on the street scatters away. Passing by the alley, a drunk pantless man is stabbing a rat-like figure with a broken bottle. Crying and screaming, he stabs repeatedly. I pass by with a smile matching the Cheshire moon.

'The thief meets his end, and should the Victor Family survive the week, they'll be too weakened to pursue me. They'll certainly be quite busy this night.'

'The exhaustion must be making me a little too sentimental.' I breathe in the Dark and use it to supplement my energy. Intimidating any would-be predators and stressing out the hero beside me. The Lord's Ring and the Dark dance in glee at the blood and suffering. That glee is very hard to keep down, trying to bubble up into insanity and addiction. Another insidious trap, but one made ineffective by my foreknowledge and will.

When we reach our room, the night has one last surprise. My hero is ambushed and blinded by a flashpowder. Within seconds a dagger is held to my throat as a man presses my back towards him.

"No."

The blade and his presence vanish. The only traces of him being here, was the open window and the flashpowder my crusader finally bypassed. It was too late when he was able to ready his weapon. Reynauld grit his teeth in frustration at the lost fight and empty window.

I sigh in disappointment, "Well, that was a long shot, but I think the Shadow Guilds, made their intentions quite clear. Overall quite a productive night indeed."

Reynauld turns to me in disbelief.

I pace to collect my thoughts, dismissing the casual threat to my life, 'I was hoping for intelligence and assassin-type adventurers to claim. I'll have to settle for the thieves godfather sends me for my rouges. Still better than nothing, and the fact that I'm still alive means that they don't hold some of the previous Heir's mismanagement of their men too personal.'

I frown at myself and look to Reynauld, "I'm too weak right now to keep a ward around us. We will need to sleep light."

Reynauld firmly moves the chair to face both the window and door. His entire posture is in a 'relaxed but ready' position, with his sword drawn. "Don't worry, and get some rest. I'll stand vigil over you. The Light will sustain me."

'I should not be this touched by his morals and beliefs. He should be ready to abandon me, but here he is, trying to give me the benefit of the doubt. To make the best of things. …My hero indeed.'

"Thank you." I lay my hand to touch his shoulder and proceed to the bed. Even after dealing with the church and university during the day, I had to confront a crime family's Heir during the night. The rejections from all the major guilds were just salt at this point, and the only saving grace was the fact it was only business. Facing the weight of the day, I collapse into unconsciousness before I hit the bed.

A/N: Yes, that was a Punisher reference, and I simp bounty hunter. Poor Reynauld, he's had a rough day. I wonder what he's thinking and feeling. What with him being played like a violin and suffering emotional whiplash? Finally, we're headed to the actual game. Hopefully, the journey will be a smooth one…*laughs* yeah, I didn't believe me either.