So...I decided to rewrite my story completely, and there will be a lot of changes. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Fairy Tail belongs to Hiro Mashima. Lilith Mara and Rose are original characters.

The Fairest Of Them All

Chapter 1: Escape from the Heartfilia Konzern

A month ago, she would have screamed her lungs out if she felt something furry brush against her ankle. Today, she barely even flinched.

She would have retched at the putrid scent of sweat, urine, and blood. Now, if someone were to compare it to some fancy perfume, she wouldn't know the difference.

At first, she had cried herself to sleep during the loneliest of nights, but she eventually learned that her tears are in vain.

Her old life was such a distant memory, though it couldn't have been more than three weeks ago...

She heard them before she saw them coming.

Desperate shrieks rang through the hall. Lucy turned her head slightly when the door to the small room was flung open, nearly bursting it off its hinges. Light spilled into the dark room as the two figures walked in, laughing heartily about something and dragging a person behind them.

The young girl couldn't have been more than fifteen. She was in hysterics, her arms flailing wildly as she tried to escape. She was digging her heels into the hard-stone floor, but it did little to stop their advancement. Many of Lucy's fellow cellmates were also watching the scene unfold.

Lucy met the other girl's eyes briefly. Ignoring the silent plea from the other girl, she ducked her head, the thick curtain of her bangs falling across her eyes, hiding her grim expression.

A loud bang from another room surprised the men, and the girl took advantage of their distraction to break free from their grasp.

She'd made it to the doorway, her hand grasping the handle of the wooden door, but before she could open it, she was pulled backwards violently by her hair. The girl shrieked in pain as a chunk of hair was pulled from her scalp.

She was dragged back into the dark room and thrown into the cell next to Lucy's. The young girl laid sprawled out on the floor, and she refused to look at the unconscious body lying in a heap next to her, which, as Lucy had noticed before, had begun smelling increasingly foul with the passing days.

Lucy watched silently through the bars as the new girl cradled her head between her knees, trying to lessen the stinging pain.

This would be the fifth one since she became an occupant herself, Lucy noted.

That night, they all fell asleep to the cries of the new girl filling the otherwise silent room, occasionally punctuated by a hacking cough.

Soon, she would learn to truly accept the helplessness of her situation, the same way they did. Then silence would resume again. No one bothered to comfort her as she sang her sad song, as so many had done before her.

Several girls still hoped that someone would come. That someone would save them. Not Lucy, though. Because no matter how much power her father might hold, he would still fail. Even if he tore the entire continent apart searching for her, he would never find her.

No one was coming, and no one will ever save them.

Three weeks earlier...

Lucy looked elegant and graceful as she glided down the hallway with her head held high and her hands folded properly. However, nobody noticed how much her hands were shaking, or that her pace slowed as she got closer to the last door in the hall.

She turned her head and caught the eye of the servant who was walking behind her, but the maid quickly lowered her gaze. Sighing, the blonde rapped her knuckles against the wooden door and turned the handle without waiting for any response.

Jude Heartfilia didn't so much as look up from his work when she stepped into the room, his eyes trained instead on his quill as it flew across the many papers spread out across his desk. Lucy waited for him to say something, but he seemed to be completely engrossed in his work. She cleared her throat awkwardly, her hands balling into nervous fists at her sides.

"Um...I was just coming to say goodnight, Father," she said in what she hoped was a confident voice, looking directly at him.

His only response was the sound of a quill scratching on paper. The blonde felt her cheeks heat up in anger, and she rushed out of the room, the maid following and closing the door behind them with a soft click.

When they got to her quarters, the servant didn't dare utter a single word to her, silently drawing her bath and laying out her sleepwear. The only moment the maid showed a hint of expression was when Lucy whispered a tiny thank you to her, and she only bowed her head with a tight-lipped smile.

The blonde dismissed her afterwards, and the servant quickly scampered out the door. Even from the bathroom, Lucy heard the mechanism click as the maid locked the door, a new rule her father had set the week before.

She went through her normal routine, enjoying the silence and hating it at the same time.

Inside the mansion, there wasn't a single sound aside from the rhythmic ticking of the clocks. One would have easily concluded that the house was deserted, but that was not the case.

Lucy shifted in her bed, adjusting the silk covers around her. The distant clacking of dress shoes caught her attention and she turned onto her side, facing away from her bedroom door. As the footsteps grew closer, she squeezed her eyes shut, pretending to sleep. She had never been more grateful that her canopy bed had swaths of ornate pink cloth hanging in between the four posts, hiding her from view.

Light spilled into the room when someone turned the brass handle of her quarters, the wood creaking noisily. The blonde's heart thumped wildly in her chest, and she willed herself to take calm, steady breaths.

The intruder slowly inched towards her, and she stiffened slightly. She heard the rustling of fabric as they pulled the bed curtains aside.

Her hands balled into nervous fists like they always did whenever she was in the same room as her father, though he didn't notice, or just simply didn't care.

He stood in silence for a while, his intense stare practically burning holes into the back of her head. He suddenly moved, reaching out a hand towards her, but he thought better of it and returned his hand to his side. He let the fabric fall back down into place and retreated out of the room, locking the door once more behind him.

She opened her eyes again, turning back onto her other side, waiting. Soon after, the mansion was filled with the sound of melodic chimes, signalling that it was officially midnight.

Lucy sat up as quickly and as quietly as possible, and threw off her covers. Instead of her usual nightgown, she was fully dressed in the most casual clothes she owned.

She reached under the bed, her hand patting empty space until she found what she was looking for. She pulled out a small valise, filled with only her absolute necessities, and placed it gently beside her chamber door.

Her bare feet padded across the floor of her quarters, walking towards her wardrobe. She opened one of the many compartments, revealing rows upon rows of every shoe imaginable. She dismissed the heels immediately, her chocolate brown eyes landing on a pair of brown leather boots. She slid them on, lacing them up and kicking the drawer shut.

Her fingers delicately traced the pieces of clothing hanging from the racks before they landed on a simple, velvet, black cloak, which she fastened around her neck.

She tip-toed back towards the exit, the moon acting as her only source of light. As always, her celestial keys were nestled safely in a pouch clipped to her belt.

She shifted impatiently from foot to foot, letting out a huge exhale when she heard the jangling of keys on the other side of the door and watched as it opened to reveal that the hallway was now dark.

Ms. Spetto's face was illuminated by the small candle she was holding, and she let out a small squeak of surprise when she saw Lucy beaming at her.

The older woman put a finger to her lips and swung open the door further, motioning for the blonde to step into the hallway.

They moved at a fast pace, and both women kept turning to look over their shoulders to see if they were being followed. Once they had ducked into one of the servant halls and were stumbling down a winding staircase, Ms. Spetto finally spoke up.

"I arrived a bit later than expected. I apologize, Miss Lucy. I hadn't expected your father to have guards posted in the hallways." the woman spat out in a frantic whisper.

They pushed through a poorly constructed door, arriving in the dining room, and the blonde didn't get a chance to respond. It was pitch-black, and if it wasn't for Ms. Spetto guiding the way, Lucy would've been knocking into things left and right.

Relying on the candle's light and keeping one hand against the wall, the girl quickly shuffled past two doors, arriving in the kitchen. Back when her mother was alive and when she'd been allowed to freely roam the mansion as she pleased, she'd loved to explore the servant halls. Her memories of the kitchen were rather hazy since she hadn't been past the double doors in more than eight years, but she still had a basic idea of the layout.

At the back of the room, in the centre of the wall, a large brick fireplace was home to a roaring fire. It cast an eerie glow around it, allowing them to see the pots and pans hanging from the ceiling, the stoves and sinks lining the right wall, and a long wooden counter in the very middle of the room littered, which was littered with an assortment of knives and spices on its surface.

Ms. Spetto unlocked the door next to the fireplace, leading them to the back of the house.

"I'm sorry, but this was the most jewels I could find," she said sadly, fishing a small pouch from her apron pocket and handing it to Lucy.

"This is more than enough. Thank you, Ms. Spetto." the girl said, gratitude shining in her chocolate eyes.

"I have a friend who owes me a favour. He should be waiting around the outskirts of the town. He agreed, by carriage, to take you as far away from here as possible." the woman said, gently pushing the blonde out the door.

Lucy gave the woman one last bone-crushing hug before she set off, waving over her shoulder. Ms. Spetto waved back, smiling and using her apron to wipe away her tears.

"Stay safe," she whispered, watching as the girl dashed across the manicured lawn, far away from her father's imprisonment.

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