Like most days, Lulu felt bitter when she woke up in the morning, the kind of self-loathing bitter that feels like you've just licked an iron pole in the dead of winter and now you're stuck and you want to cry but also laugh but mostly you just hate yourself and everything around you for being stuck in such a situation.

Today, however, was not most days, and her usual early-morning bitterness was swiftly replaced with surprise.

Veigar was next to her this morning, which was certainly something out of the ordinary. As Lulu reluctantly opened her eyes with a frown already marring her face, the small hand coming up to rub her tired eyes stopped halfway through as her sleep-addled brain registered the poisonous yellow eyes staring back at her.

She blinked.

Veigar was clearly awake and alert, and Lulu wondered sarcastically if the mage ever slept at all or if he just stayed awake every night plotting and rubbing his armored hands together while muttering darkly under his breath. That train of thought was halted quickly as she noted with horror that for the first time in her life, she was sarcastic and angry, and she tried very hard to blame Veigar for this change no matter how much her heart begged her to love him, and the internal battle exhausted her so much so that she slumped back on the ground with no strength whatsoever and simply stared at him hopelessly for a while.

He stared back, infuriatingly and unblinkingly.

"Uhm…hello." Curses. So ineloquent.

"Hello." His response sounded far more cultured despite it being the exact same single word.

"What are you, uh," she coughed, "doing here today? And, um, so close to me?" Her voice sounded so small and shy, and tried not to, but she couldn't help shrinking into herself as her captor continued to stare at her.

"You were having a nightmare," he said, his tone even but his eyes like ice. "You were screaming. What were you dreaming about?"

The blood drained from her face. She could feel it, how her head suddenly felt light and her throat went dry. The telltale stinging behind her eyes started up again and the sharp clarity of her vision was blurred by tears as she was reminded of her dream, and blinked hurriedly to keep the tears away. She rolled over onto her back and stared up at the sky blankly.

"Nothing. It is not important," she answered mechanically.

"Tell me," he pressed, and she screwed her eyes shut, feeling angry and spiteful.

"No."

Today was not at all an ordinary day, for in an instant, Veigar was pinning her down with his own body with a hand wrapped around her throat and hissing something at her but she couldn't think. The world had stopped and she stared back at him, petrified, and the only thing she could see were his eyes glowing with fire and dangerously dark, and all she could feel were his hand on her neck and her heart beating furiously against her ribcage in a myriad of indecipherable emotions that she was not equipped to handle at that moment. She couldn't focus and the tears began spilling and she struggled to breathe but her naturally purple face was turning blue without air and her hands were scrabbling for something but she was weak now and she was at the mercy of the mage who, as far as she was aware, had no mercy.

And the next thing she knew, Lulu was curled up on her side with coughs wracking her tiny, emaciated frame as she gasped for breath and Veigar was standing near the tree line watching her vigilantly.

Lulu hated herself deeply, and she hated him.

"It was not my intention to…hurt you." If she wasn't mistaken, he sounded unsure, and almost apologetic. "I did not mean to lose control."

She shuddered, drawing in a long breath to steady her racing heart. She looked back at him, and he was struck by just how small she looked. She was small and dirty and weak but she was his, and that meant something to him even though he hadn't the slightest idea of what she meant to him.

He came closer to where she was curled in the grass and, hesitantly, reached out to her.

"Lulu… I-I'm sor-"

His hand was nearly touching her when she flinched violently away from him, and he snapped out of his reverie. Once again seeming to have a face carved from stone, he obligingly backed away from her.

"Please don't touch me," she squeaked meekly. "Only my Veigar. And you aren't- you're not him."

No, he wasn't. Not even close, but he was all she had, and a part of her ached to give in and love him the way she loved her Veigar, but all the rest of her hoped more desperately than ever that the old Veigar would return to her and save her again.

He always saved her.

She would grasp that hope even when it was nothing but thin air.

"I will return later with food. You are not to move," he said finally, and he almost sounded sad. He was not her Veigar, but she was his Lulu, no matter how her smile dimmed or her eyes dulled. She would always, unfailingly, be his Lulu. His sorceress.

He turned and left, disappearing into the woods, and when she could no longer hear him moving through the plant life, she sat up and wiped the tears away. The fire returned to her eyes, which she had suppressed for so long. Her bindings were familiar with her, comfortable and lenient. She had waited for this, the feeling of almost-freedom granted to her by Veigar's magic. She was weak, but she was a determined sorceress when it came down to it, and she would bend the magic to her will. And what she wanted was to get out.

She could feel it tense as it felt her putting pressure on it, but she shushed it and patted it soothingly until it relaxed enough. Like it was made of water, she walked right through it, and then she took off running.

Running away. Running back to Bandle City, if she could even find it.

If she couldn't find her Veigar, she would make him find her.

Author's Note- "I'll post the next chapter by the end of summer" she said. Wow, I'm sorry I'm such a liar. Well Happy New Years and here's my present to all of you, I guess. Sorry for the wait, but hopefully y'all are still interested in this story and this chapter wasn't disappointing. Leave me a review, yeah?