A/N: Just a few snippets – two from the past and one from the present…

~~ Alinta ~~

It wasn't Alinta's first time trying to escape. It was hard to know exactly how long she'd been at the Unseelie now. She'd counted about six seasons, although that was six seasons too many. She hated it there – it was more than just the way they treated her, it was also the very land and their way of life. Even the twisted trees fought each other to reach the furthest point in the sky to get the most sun. Many of the creatures would hiss or try to bite if she neared them, too used to fearing the Unseelie faeries. The ground was uneven with gnarled and rotten vines and the air was cold and uninviting. The blighted areas were dead and putrid, looking as if they had been burned. It was nothing like her home.

She waited until darkness descended, before she crept past some of the camping areas, keeping to the shadows, and using her magic to disguise her footsteps. She could hear some drunken singing nearby, no doubt some had had too much to drink after their duties were finished. Good, if they were distracted, that would only aid her.

She was relieved when she made it to the cover of the forest. It wouldn't be busy at such a time of night. Adjusting the bag with her meagre belongings at her side, she continued onwards. She didn't own much – besides a few borrowed weapons, and she'd only eaten half of her meals, saving the rest of her portions of gruel for her escape. Prisoner kids like herself weren't exactly given the finer foods. Still, she'd passed a lot of her training, which had afforded her a slightly better place to sleep, along with some of the other fae kids. But she still dreamed of her home where she belonged, and she was stubborn enough to have bided her time to prepare for another escape. They could not entirely stamp out all of her hope.

The sound of a wolf howl broke the silence of the forest and she froze. Had they…? In desperation, she started to run, blindly making her way between the trees. She knew it was hopeless and that there was no way she could outrun a hunting wolf, but what other chance did she have? They'd undoubtedly punish her for daring to try and escape again.

The trees were a blur and she only narrowly avoided tripping over one of the roots, glad that she had fast footing. The end of the forest was in sight – a break through the trees evident, a clearing just visible, as if a small glimmer of hope.

She heard the wolf's footsteps before it reached her, and while she tried to duck out of the way, it was of little use as the wolf pounced, knocking her down to the ground. She immediately became still as it pinned her down – if she didn't provoke it, then it likely wouldn't bite her. Besides, she didn't want to hurt it. She could hear its breath near her ear, and she closed her eyes, listening.

Coming from not far away, she heard voices which filled her with a sense of dread. It was Saxon – one of the Unseelie boys older than her – and his little gang.

He whistled and the wolf moved off her as her eyes flew open. She was quick to grab one of her knives, but two of the boys were already on her, grabbing her arms and pulling the knife from her grasp. Still, she'd managed to cut one of them just above his eyebrow in the process, which gave her some satisfaction as he wiped the blood away. She hissed and struggled, managing to scratch them, before one held a knife to her throat and she became still again. They could use it if they wanted to, and no one would stop them.

"Trying to escape again?" Saxon said, a taunt in his voice. "Not so smart, but then again, you never have been, have you?" He had always been cruel, and she could hear the delight in his voice at having caught her. His parents were important in the Unseelie, she'd gathered, and he had the freedom to largely do as he liked, his father sometimes giving him such tasks. Likely she was deemed as a lesser threat after all.

He bent down so his face was near hers. "Want to know how I knew you'd left?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She was silent, so he continued. "That little faerie you're partnered with. He came right to me to let me know you weren't in your bed and that you'd disappeared." He laughed. "He was more than happy to share." Opening up his hand, he let something dangle from it. She instantly recognised her necklace – the one that she'd given the boy when he'd cried about missing his home, as a form of solace. It was one of her last possessions from her home. "And I used this to help track you."

She felt the sting of betrayal slice through her chest. It was no surprise really – those in the Unseelie were rewarded for telling on each other. Likely he would have been given another meal for it. And how could she blame him? At the end of the day, no one could be trusted. Still, she kept her expression carefully stoic. She wouldn't ever let him see her cry.

"No one can escape the Unseelie," he said, straightening again. "Now, what punishment should we inflict on you for trying to escape a second time?" he asked, and the other faeries chuckled. "I have an idea… You better not try a third time though," he warned her. "Any more tries and you'll be dead. I can promise you that."

"Bring her along, boys," he said, with a wave of his hand, turning away. One of them grabbed her braid to pull her up with, and she stifled a cry in pain, as they dragged her along after him. It hadn't taken her long to learn the Unseelie tongue, and she could understand him clearly. It was grating and jarring compared to her own language, and she was always reluctant to speak it. However, she'd learned to use it when talking with others, otherwise she'd be punished. It was as if they thought they could take everything from her. Not just her home, but her hopes and her dreams, her language and her traditions.

They finally stopped by the hanging tree, and she inhaled sharply as she looked up at it, remaining silent. She'd seen enough people die there. Saxon reached for some iron cuffs, the chains tied tight around the tree. He handled them carefully, using his gloves.

"Take off her gloves," he said, and they grabbed her hands, peeling her gloves off and tossing them to the ground. He then stepped forward, pulling her cloak from her shoulders and flinging it away as well. She was hit by the cool breeze, resisting the urge to shiver.

"Now, I'll let you think about your wrongdoings here for a while. Who knows how long I'll leave you here in the cold? Perhaps I'll forget about you," he said, slowly. "Or maybe you'll starve – who knows? It's not like anyone will miss you."

Tightening the cuffs around her wrists as the other faeries held her hands out, she couldn't help but cry out when the iron touched her skin. It burned, feeling like someone was pressing a branding iron to them. Locking the cuffs, they then released her, stepping back and watching with a sneer.

"I don't know why you bother trying to escape," Saxon said, eyeing her. "Your village was burned to the ground and your parents are dead. There's nothing out there for you." Somehow, his words hurt even more than the iron, and she panted, trying to withdraw into herself. She always liked to imagine that her parents were out there somewhere, that they'd somehow survived. "Your feeble attempts are pathetic, really."

Still, she was silent. If she tried to refute his words or argue with him, he would only be more inclined to leave her there for longer.

"Next time you better speak, otherwise I might feel inclined to cut your tongue out, if you don't need to use it." He watched her for another moment, before turning away. "Enjoy your night," he laughed, he and the other faeries strolling away.

The burn of the iron was incessant, and she knew her wrists would be raw when the cuffs were finally removed. She had grown used to suppressing pain however, and it was really the least of her worries.

She huddled against the tree, trying to get it to help block some of the wind. If she didn't freeze to death, then hopefully she could last without food and water until he finally returned. He would, she was sure, just to taunt her.

It wouldn't be nearly as fun for him if she was dead.

~~ Lex ~~

Lex and his brother were well versed in the art of thieving, and they were good at getting away with it. Mundanes hardly scared him after all, when there were much worse things lingering in the night. He almost shivered as he remembered the night before on the streets, and the way he'd seen a vampire suck someone dry. His brother had shifted them far away after that.

The London underbelly was rife with danger and deceit, but they'd learned to survive it and they'd become stronger because of it. Making their way through the markets, he eyed some of the stalls there. Passing by a fruit vendor, he swiped an apple, hiding it in his sleeve. His brother grabbed a loaf of bread from the vendor opposite. At least they'd have something to eat that day. The busyness of markets was always easier to take advantage of than the inside of a shop with cameras.

His brother slowed, eyeing a woman walking a couple of people ahead of them to the side. Lex followed his gaze, instantly spotting what he was looking at. Around her neck was an elaborate necklace with glittering red gemstones.

"I bet those are rubies," his brother said, his eyes lighting up. "Imagine how much those'd be worth."

"A lot," he replied, although he was still a little cautious. Something like that was harder to hide, and would likely be passed on as missing to the coppers.

"You play the beggar, and I'll be the snatcher," his brother whispered.

Lex was about to protest, since he had quick fingers himself, and he hated playing the beggar. But his brother had already disappeared into the crowd, and he sighed. Often, he was given such a role because he was young, and others were more likely to take pity on him because of it.

Walking up to the woman, he held out his hands. "'Scuse me, miss," he mumbled, "Could you spare any change?"

She frowned, looking a little annoyed to have her path blocked. "I don't have anything on me. Sorry," she added on the end. She was only pretending, he knew. No one liked to give anything away. He'd learnt that a long time ago.

"Oh… okay," he said, trying to sound disappointed. His brother was quick, managing to undo and snatch the necklace from her neck in record time. "Just thought I'd ask. Thanks… for your time." She nodded, before continuing on when he stepped out of her way. No one even bothered to ask where their parents were, anymore. Really, they didn't care.

Starting back through the crowds, he met up with his brother at their usual meeting spot. "You did well," his brother praised. "She didn't suspect a thing."

Slowly, he drew the necklace out of his pocket, letting it catch the sunlight. "Look at them all," he grinned. "This'll keep us going for ages." Lex nodded, watching as he put it away again. "We just gotta lie low for a little while, before we sell it. Just in case anyone's looking for it."

His brother ruffled his hair, and he finally allowed himself to relax. "See? I told you we'd have some good luck soon."

It had always just been the two of them, and that's all they needed.

~~ Steff ~~

Curling up in bed, Steff pulled the quilt over herself, as if she could hide from the outside world. If only such a thing was possible. She felt mortified, having laid her feelings out so plainly to Connor, only to find that he didn't return them. This was why she hated being assertive – she only failed miserably at it. She didn't know why she had assumed that he might have liked her in such a way. That he might have wanted her. It was embarrassing to have been so wrong. Of course he would only see her as a friend – that's what everyone saw her as.

She had given him plenty of time to settle into his job and to think things through, and yet he still didn't know what he wanted for the future, or to what extent he wanted her in his life. And the sad thing was, she would have waited longer for him, if that's what he'd wanted. Because she cared about him, and she wanted to make things work and she could imagine a future with him. But she could be waiting forever – like he'd said, he could imagine never getting there. Surely he would know by now if he really wanted her.

"Disappointing and relieving," she murmured, under her breath, repeating his words. How did that even make sense?

She was embarrassed as well, by how she'd handled it, and how quickly she'd left afterwards. She might have ruined everything. She couldn't bear the thought of losing him as a friend. He knew her better than anyone, undoubtedly, and she'd always found him so easy to talk with. She cared about him more than she could say.

She resolved to write him a letter as soon as she could manage it. Apologise for leaving so abruptly. Hopefully she could find the courage to show her face again.

Curling up more, she closed her eyes, her pillow feeling damp from her tears. One could not escape themselves, and she felt as unwanted as ever, the feeling like a constant companion. Words from long ago rung in her ears – about how she was nothing.

Sometimes, she thought maybe it was better if she never even tried.