• Note: This one gave me a little trouble.

    It was…soft. It wasn’t the forest, that was for sure. And, with that realization, Diedrick awoke, eyes wide and wild as his gaze darted around the richly decorated room. Where was this?! He sat up quickly, only to find that his body had not recovered. He opened his mouth, silent in his agony as he lay back, writhing, trying to get free of something he couldn’t. He fell off the bed, scampering over to the corner of the room and crouching there, surveying the strange room before him.

    “Come now, child. I won’t hurt you. That’s right, you’re safe now,” a voice cooed. It was kind, gentle. He didn’t trust it.

    Diedrick snarled, looking up at the woman who had spoken. She was the same one from the forest. He’d been caught! Panic and fury flowed through him and he searched vainly for anything his necromancy could activate. Nothing… He began shaking.

    “It’s all right,” the woman said as she reached out to him.

    He thrashed, trying to push himself away from her. There was no more room behind him, but he really didn’t want to be near her. He snarled and growled, desperately trying to throw himself backwards, away from her. No more room.

    She reached out her hand again and he snarled, glaring up at her, anger and panic overwhelming the previous fear. As she brought her hand closer he snapped at it. But she was quicker, stronger than he. She scooped him up in her arms (he was really very small, the time he spent away from civilization stunting the aging process so he still looked as though he were seven) and began to care him into another room though he struggled and squirmed, trying to get free.

    “I think you need a bath. You’re too dirty,” the woman commented lightly, smiling.

    Diedrick insisted on struggling until she set him down in a corner of the room, locking the door behind her as she moved to a great basin. After turning a couple knobs, water began to pour into it. The incubus crept forward, curiosity overcoming his anger and fear. What was this? Carefully, he reached down to touch the clear water pooling in the basin, astounded at it. He kept his hand down in it, staring in wonder as layers of dirt and blood and who knows what else were slowly rinsed away from his little hand, revealing the pale skin beneath.

    “Well, now, you have a clean spot. Might as well finish.” There was movement behind him and he jumped, turning to face her, surprised and startled as the woman set a soft-looking rectangle of fabric (it was folded up) down onto the counter top. What was going on? What was that for? Was it some sort of torture?

    The basin was almost full now and the woman turned off the water. “Now I’ll be back soon, you just wash up,” she stated before turning to something on the counter. A flame! She struck a flame and lit some little colored cylinder before walking out.

    Diedrick backed away from the flame, terrified. What would this torture consist of? Why was the flame even there? He grabbed the first thing he set his hands on and threw it at the cylinder. It fell and the fire began spreading. He gasped. Looking around, he saw the water and an idea came to him. Carefully, he inched over to grab the rectangle of fabric. He soaked it in the water and threw it at the flames. Sighing in relief, he backed away. But he went too far and hit the basin, losing his balance and tumbling back into it.

    He strove to the surface, gasping for air. Surprisingly, though, there was no current. He relaxed some, looking around as he stood in the basin. The remainders of his clothes slid down from him into the pool, but he wasn’t sure of what to do at all now.

    Suddenly there were footsteps. Diedrick retreated to the farthest corner of the tub, staring intently at the door. It burst open and the woman stepped in, her expression cold. She surveyed the room before sighing, smiling a little.

    “Well, at least I don’t have to fight you for those nasty clothes. And no more candles for you,” she said. He didn’t reply, just stared at her blankly as she came further into the room. She fished out the clothes and threw them over by the cloth. “I’m just going to have to clean you myself, aren’t I?” She sounded amused.

    Diedrick glared at her, refusing to go near her. She put the fire in the room. She was the one who caught him. No, he would not obey her. Besides, he was stronger as his wounds were beginning to heal, he could resist longer.

    For a moment, he considered what would happen if he didn’t obey her. She would probably drag him over to her. Dragging could be a very unpleasant experience…but so could cooperating. Which should he do? He stared at her in indecision for a moment then relaxed his stature a little and took a reluctant step forward, unsure of whether he should proceed. He met her gaze and froze as he tried to decide whether she was hostile or not.

    “Come on, that’s right. You’ll be fine. Don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you.” She held out her hand to him.

    Diedrick scampered backwards, falling as he did and gasping for breath before he was engulfed by water. Something grabbed him and pulled him up. He found himself face-to-face with the woman and she looked more worried than angry. He struggled, coughing up the water he’d swallowed.

    She held him close and patted him on the back until the water was all out but he didn’t stop struggling. No, in fact he thrashed even more as she held him. She was going to kill him, she was going to stab him, he was sure. He knew she was going to kill him, he just knew it.

    “Don’t struggle, little one. It’s all right,” she tried. It didn’t work. Diedrick fought harder, trying to get away from her embrace. She didn’t move, didn’t shake. She just held him as he fought. After a while he finally got so tired out that he couldn’t struggle anymore.

    The woman gently placed him in the water, washing and scrubbing the dirt and grime away. He tried to resist, he really did. But he was so weak now and she was so strong. Very soon he was all clean and he still tried to struggle as the woman lifted him from the now nearly black water and wrapped him in a towel (that’s what they were called, he remembered), drying him off. He growled slightly, baring his fangs at her, but did nothing else as he was beginning to trust that she wouldn’t kill him just yet. In fact, as she placed her hand on him, the wounds were healed. He stared blankly back at her.

    She pulled out a clean changed of clothes and slipped them onto his small body and picked him up again, carrying him from the bathroom into the kitchen.

    “You must be hungry. Aren’t you, little one?” she asked softly, setting him down in a chair at the kitchen table. She turned away from him, opening the pantry and looking through it.

    Diedrick said nothing, still staring blankly at her as she turned to regard him. He was uncomfortable in the clothes, his long hair now silky and clean, falling in the way of his crimson gaze. Fidgeting, he tried to wiggle out of his shirt. It was much too constricting for his tastes.

    The woman turned to look at him, looking extremely angry. “Keep them on,” she commanded. Something in her gaze scared Diedrick and, for the time being, he backed down, shaking. He averted his eyes, wondering if he would meet his end soon. Maybe so…she seemed as though she could be vicious if she wished.

    But then she smiled and turned back to the pantry. He blinked, unsure of what to do next. So he sat quietly, fidgeting every once in a while, and watched as she pulled several things from the closet and brought them back over to him. Unsure of what they were, Diedrick did not touch them. Perhaps they were food items? He was quite hungry…but he wasn’t sure if she wouldn’t poison him.

    “Now would you like…” she started.

    He looked up at her, then down at the group of boxes. Last he knew food wasn’t box-shaped. Frowning, he sat and did nothing.

    “How about...pretzels?” the woman asked, pushing a box toward him.

    Diedrick looked at it, carefully took hold of it, and bit into the box. He took it out of his mouth, glaring at it as the flimsy thing crumpled. He heard the woman laughing and his head snapped up, his attention solely on her. He was wary now.

    “No, no. Here,” she said. She reached out and took the box. He tried to move away but only managed in turning the chair over backwards. He gasped, rolling backwards and clutching the back of his head. Sevina stood up and calmly walked over to him, picking him up again. Diedrick struggled against her, snarling.

    She held him close to her body again as he struggled and, again, he tired himself out as he tried to fight her hold. So she set him down again and reached for the box, opening up the top to reveal strange little twisted stick things. She took out one and held it in front of his mouth. Diedrick stared at it before growling, glaring up at her.

    The woman set the ‘pretzel’ on the table and turned the box over so more fell out.

    He stared at it for a moment before picking one up and sniffing it carefully. Diedrick licked it and pulled back, staring at it again. After several minutes of deliberating on whether it was safe to eat it or not, he took a small bite and swallowed. It didn’t taste horrible and he didn’t feel anything wrong yet… so he put the rest of it in his mouth and swallowed.

    Hungry for more, he gathered up the ones that spilled out and got down from the chair, going to the corner to eat them, crouched over, watching the woman warily. She watched him as well, her expression unreadable.

    “You can eat there for now, boy,” the woman stated, “but soon you will eat there.” She pointed to the chair. He stared at her, only half-comprehending what she meant.

    Finally, he was done…but he was thirsty. Those things were too salty. He looked around, wondering if he should go back to that large basin in the other room. Maybe they had water in there?

    As those thoughts ran through his head, however, he heard something being set on the table and looked up. She’d set a cup on the table. She moved away and he warily moved forward. He looked at the cup a moment before taking it and staring down into its depths. Well…it was clear like water… He smelled it…it smelled like water. He stuck his finger down into it. Felt like water as well. So he took a tentative sip. It was water. He drank the rest of it, realizing he was getting extremely tired.

    “Now, time to figure out your name. I can’t call you boy forever, can I?” the woman said thoughtfully as she stared at him.

    Note: I know it’s 1600’s at this point and people don’t have running water, but the house is magical. That’s how I’m getting by. YAY FOR PLOT DEVICES!!!!!!!!!!