Lillian came too with a start; she had been jostled by a sudden bump from the pressure against her stomach. She was being carried over the shoulder of a muscular, broad man, her hands tied behind her back. The hand on her ass provided a firm but not predatory pressure, probably meant to just keep her in place. She opened her eyes and recognised the same tunic she was staring at that her attacker had worn.


    Safe to bet that he was the one carrying her. The thought did not comfort her.


    Looking around, she couldn’t see anyone else in the vicinity. They were walking down a wide and long set of steps between two buildings, in what looked like an alleyway. One important note she decided to etch into her brain, was that her dagger was now hanging on the man’s hip, tucked into his belt. It would probably be easy enough to grab if she could get close enough or was fast enough. For right now though, she needed information.


    “Hey,” she called out before her anxiety shut her throat. “Where are you taking me?”


    His steps faltered for a quick second, probably surprised to hear her voice. He rumbled something in response, but Lillian could not understand what he was saying. The language he was speaking sounded harsh and nasally, he also had a lisp, any noise that kind of sounding like an s came out as a f sound instead.


    “I can’t understand you,” She let her frustration show in her voice, so that she was sure he picked up on it, even with the language barrier.


    He kept rambling on, seeming to talk more to himself than to her. After a bit of that, Lillian began to recognise sounds as the same sounds that she had been studying just that morning. She paid closer attention to the words he was saying and going over her study notes in her head. Every now and then he would say a word she recognised to mean home, and from that she picked up the context for the words he was using around it. No doubt her skill was playing another part here, helping her acclimate better to the new language.


    Eventually she put together that he was saying the same thing repeatedly, with different words used. They were heading to his home, and the repetition was meant to soothe his own nerves at the task. That did not bode well for what awaited them there.


    The trip down the stairs ended before she could figure out what the full sentence meant. They came to a stop in front of a door, Lillian could see the bottom of it and the frame. Both were wooden and recessed in a wall made of the same stone as the rest of the staircase. The door looked like it was carved into the rock itself. Her noble, kidnapping steed rapped on the door with his knuckles, causing a sliding sound as something in the door was slid across it, although Lillian could not see it herself. The man carrying her said a few words, none of them she recognised. She repeated the sounds in her head, trying to memorise the words just in case.


    The sliding sound came again, the object being slid back home, and multiple clicks and clanks could be heard as multiple locks were unlocked. Lillian counted 4 locks on the door unlocking before it opened. The door swung inward, and they stepped through.


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    Inside was dark and dirty, and she noticed faint light coming from the walls of the corridor, spaced far apart. The man started walking along and she saw that the light came from oil lamps hung high on hooks.


    The man was also not talking now, opting to stay silent. Whether that was from a personal choice or the norm of the place they had entered, she couldn’t tell.


    A footfall in front of Lillian made her flick her head up suddenly and scan the corridor. She saw nothing in the dingy darkness. Although, the faint layer of dust just settled after the man holding her, was being disturbed in the same manner as someone walking behind them. When she noticed it, she tried to focus on where the next one would land, desperately searching for any indication that someone was there, other than the dust, and she saw nothing. It made panic start to bubble up in her, threatening to spill over as her frantic eyes darted back and forth, she was sure they were wide and wild.


    The hand holding her ass lifted for a second, coming back down in a gentle pat. He must’ve felt her stiffen as she tried to fight the panic rising in her. The gesture was not appreciated and Lillian let her head drop and closed her eyes, fighting back tears. If this person could be invisible, could the person holding her as well? Did she even have any chance?


    The walk down the corridor didn’t last too much longer, although it felt like years for Lillian as her eyes welled up and the man holding her attempted his comforting gesture again. It finally occurred to Lillian how ridiculous the situation she was in was, she was being carried fireman style down a corridor where at least one person could be goddamn invisible, and she was crying. The worst part was the man who kidnapped her trying to be of comfort. He was trying at least.


    At the end of the corridor, it opened to a large room, when they passed the opening, she could see dingy, wooden tables and chairs, the chairs were empty but the tables she could see all held an oil lamp in the centre. It made the room appear more welcoming than the corridor, but not by much. The man holding her walked in between the tables and stopped before one near the centre of the room that one person sitting at it. From her position, Lillian could only see legs, clad in dark brown trousers and leather boots.


    She was suddenly lifted and manhandled until she stood facing the table and the man sitting at it. He was handsome, with dark hair and green eyes. He was also wearing a collared and buttoned shirt that looked at home in 1800’s Britain. His expression was quizzical, directed at the man that had brought her here. He said something in a questioning tone, in which Lillian could only catch a couple words of.


    “…Home… …Worth…”


    The man who had brought her replied and she couldn’t understand his words at all but managed to place his tone, he was defensive but trying to appear placating. It seemed like the kidnapper was afraid of the man in front of her.


    The man sitting down nodded and gestured to his left. Lillian was promptly picked up again and they headed in that direction. She was then taken from the large room into another corridor, this one having doors at regular intervals that had locks on the outside. After a minute of walking, she was taken into an open door and placed on her feet again inside the small room. It only held a small rectangular stone with a fur on top of it, that, she assumed, was her bed. The man then took her dagger out, cut her hands free and pushed her so she lost her balance, sprawled on the floor. As she stood up she heard the unmistakeable sound of a deadbolt being slid home.