A/N: sigh Another story started! I've been mulling this story in my head for a while and I finally started to write it. Please let me know what you think and/or any ideas or hopes you have for the story! Also, I'm sorry about any spelling/grammer mistakes that might show up.......this is a very rough draft right now. ;;

Thanks,

Yukito-sama

---

I had seen him many times before, a man in his mid-twenties with raven hair and mismatched eyes; he was my father’s client, or so I was told, and our family had worked with his family for years. I remember listening to my father mention that my older brother would follow in his footsteps, something Joseph was very proud of. There was never a day when Joseph wouldn’t mention his future line of work to myself or our older sister, Marie. Marie didn’t seem to care and was far more interested with our father’s promise of sending her to England for schooling when she turned sixteen.

This nameless man had appeared unannounced that moonless night, seemingly distraught over something that he only said in whispers. My father was in a state of confusion and worry as he listened to the man’s hushed words. Both my siblings had left with our mother only an hour earlier to buy some groceries for that night’s supper and it seemed like my father had forgotten about me, yet there I was, hidden in our study’s closet make believing that I was stranded in a dank cave.

“Let me make a few phone calls.” my father said as he hurried to the door. “I think I can get this straightened out easily.” My father then disappeared leaving our guest all alone and only a wall apart from me.

I peeked out of the closet, opening the door only a crack, and studied our guest like I had done so many times before. He usually looked so elegant and well kept but that night he had a wild look in his eyes and his clothes and hair were in disarray. His fingers tapped a nameless tune on the arm of the chair and those mismatched eyes of green and brown darted around the room. The way he was acting it seemed like was a wild animal suddenly thrown into a cage and unsure of what to do.

Our guest suddenly took in a deep breath, his eyes closing and his fingers clawing feverishly at the arm of the chair. Exhaling the man opened his eyes and turned them sharply to the closet door. I felt my heart skip a beat, half in fear and half with the feeling that he actually knew I was there. I pushed myself away from the door violently in hopes of hiding myself in the darkness and comfort of old coats.

“Child.” That word seemed to echo in my mind and sent a chill down my spine. I watched in silent horror as the door began to open. “You don’t have to hide. Please, come and keep me company.” The coats were parted with a viscous movement that made me muffle a shriek. My eyes locked onto those mismatched eyes and I felt something take hold of my mind, something that spoke to my body and told me to take the man’s outstretched hand.

“What is your name?” His voice was otherworldly to me and caused strange feelings to stir in my soul.

“Lenore.” I said softly. The man sat once more in the wooden chair and lifted me, with ease, onto his lap. He held me close, his fingers entwining through my auburn locks. “What’s your name?”

The man sighed heavily, his breath dancing across my neck. “I cannot say, my dear Lenore, for it is a secret.”

I turned my head so I can look into those strange eyes and I smiled in a way that only a child of seven could. “I’m good at keeping secrets. Will you tell me if I promise not to tell a soul, even papa?”

“I-I can’t, Lenore.” he replied. He studied me and a look of anguish passed across his face; something was tearing him apart. “We shouldn’t be talking and I shouldn’t be holding you like I am.”

“Why?”

“It was a promise that your family had me keep. That promise has been around for many, many years and I cannot break it.” The way this man spoke made it seem like he was forcing those words out. His eyes darted to the door and he said something that I couldn’t make out.

“Please tell me your name.” I said and put on my best ‘puppy face.’ He looked at me and he smiled softly. “I told you my name so you should tell me yours. Plus my mom told me it wasn’t nice to run around and call someone mister.”

“If you don’t keep your promise, though, I get to keep you, okay?” he whispered in my ear. I nodded and smiled with the idea of such a game. “My name is Tristan.”

I let out a squeal of joy and through my arms around Tristan’s neck. I felt him tense suddenly but I held him tightly. “Yay! You have the coolest name, Tristan!”

Tristan wrapped his arms around me and stood up suddenly. I grew silent and looked around; he was holding me with incredible ease. Tristan’s eyes were glazed over as they looked at me and I felt fear wrap around me. The way he stared at me made me want to run but something was holding me silent and still.

“Child.” Tristan whispered, stroking my hair fondly. “You say my name so freely, yet your father cannot look me in the eye while we speak. Is it a sin to want a child like I want you? God has no mercy for a man who loves a child, but what will He think of my love for you?”

I listened to Tristan speak in silence. What he said was alien to me yet he speaking of feeling of love towards me. Can that be possible? Can someone love another after a moment’s meeting? Tristan looked at me in ways that seemed wrong yet there was something that was pulling me towards him and telling me not to let him go.

“My darling Lenore.” Tristan locked eyes with me and a smile danced across his lips. “I know you must feel it too but we cannot listen to our hearts; it is forbidden between our families. Will you grant me two wishes, one to have now and one to have when ever I ask?”

“Sure!” I said with the brightest smile I had.

“May I kiss you?”

I felt myself blush. Even though I didn’t know the meaning of his love I knew what a kiss was. My parents kissed each other many times and I knew that in fairy tales the white knight would kiss the princess. “Does that mean you’re my prince, Tristan?”

Tristan smiled. “If you want me to be your prince I will.”

“Okay.” I nodded. “You can kiss me only if you promise to be my prince.”

“I promise.” Tristan pulled me closer, his lips almost touching mine and I felt him hold his breath. Instead of kissing me like my parents kissed each other he kissed my cheek, something that I felt was forced.

Suddenly I heard the door open and I felt Tristan’s head jerk up. I turned in Tristan’s arms and saw my father standing in the doorway, his eyes wide and mouth hanging open. Silence filled the room and for the first time I noticed that my father was looking Tristan in the eye; the look my father gave him was a mixture of anger, fear, and betrayal.

“Let go of my daughter.” my father snapped.

“Gerald, calm down.” Tristan said softly. He placed me on my feet and stroked my hair once more. “I didn’t even know you had another daughter. She is a beautiful child, something that I find rare today.”

My father stiffened. “I didn’t think it mattered.” He looked at my suddenly his eyes burning into my own. “Lenore, go to your room and don’t come out until dinner is ready. We’ll have a talk about this later.”

After that night I didn’t see Tristan face to face for years. My parents made sure I was occupied else where or that I was locked away in another room. Tristan was never spoken of and soon even my brother was welcomed into the meetings my father and Tristan held. Years continued to pass and the memory of my meeting with Tristan began to fade away, yet the thought of his name caused something to stir in my heart. I tried to force him from my mind but even in my dreams I could hear the distant sound of his voice.

Then it happened; my brother’s twentieth birthday was nearing, thus it was time for Tristan to announce my father’s heir. Such an occasion wasn’t much of a big deal for the average family but this was something of a celebration in ours. Maria was being flown in from England and our grandparents were driving in from out of state. Silently I was thanking the loathsome tradition because I was finally going to see Tristan for the first and last time. My father would have been more than happy to keep me locked away but tradition always outweighed our own wishes.

Time passed and the grandfather clock chimed nine in the upstairs hallway. Everyone was buzzing about Joseph, who was beaming with pride, but none of them seemed at all worried that Tristan had yet to arrive. I secluded myself as per usual and was accompanied by my grandparent’s sheltie, Edgar. The poor dog had been ignored the moment Joseph stepped out of his room and I was the creature’s only companion.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door and silence filled the house. The knock came once more and my grandfather cleared his throat. He looked at me as I sat in the corner and frowned. “Lenore, why don’t you get the door and take our guest to the study. Your brother needs to be prepared for this occasion.”

I sighed and hurried towards the front door, muttering all the way. No matter how I thought about it, it always seemed so idiotic the way my family fawned over Joseph. He had been my parent’s only son and it was tradition that Tristan’s family would employ the eldest son of our family. It was usually a large celebration for the family and half the fun was trying to figure out which son would be chosen. Yet for this generation the celebration would be short.

“I’m sorry about the wait.” I said halfheartedly as I opened the door. Then time seemed to stand still.

Tristan stood before me, a soft smile on his lips and his mismatched eyes looking at me with a strange longing. The memories and feelings I thought I had locked away seemed to crash over me and I found myself stuck to the spot. He was dressed in a pitch-black suit and his raven hair was hanging free and fell past his shoulders. It seemed like time hadn’t touched him yet his beauty and powerful presence had grown.

“Hello Lenore.” Tristan said, his voice ringing through my mind.

“G-good evening, Tri-I mean sir.” I whispered. I saw something flash across Tristan’s eyes yet that smile and his composure didn’t waver. “Please follow me.”

I closed the door and led Tristan to the study. I could hear my family in the other room trying to get Joseph ready and my mother asking if my brother needed anything. Tristan, on the other hand, seemed oblivious to the noise and took a seat on the new couch my father had bought. I stood in silence, trying my damnedest not to stare yet I kept finding myself gazing at Tristan.

“Do you remember when we first met, Lenore?” Tristan asked. He looked up at me and smiled. “You were playing in the closet and your father was helping me with something.”

“Sorry but I really don’t remember.” It was a lie and a poor one at that, yet it was all I could do. I remember the feeling that I had when I first met Tristan and that feeling was welling up in me once more.

Tristan laughed softly. “I suppose I’m just a sentimental fool, then.” I lowered my head and felt myself blushing profusely. I could feel him watching me, his eyes studying my body as I stood there. “You can sit with me if you’d like, Lenore. I don’t think your father would risk ruining your brother’s party by yelling at you for speaking with a guest.”

I took a seat beside Tristan, never looking him in the eye for fear of what I might see. “How have you been, sir? Well I hope.”

“Please, call me by my name.” Tristan said softly. “I’ve been yearning to hear your voice but it won’t the same if you call me sir.”

“My father wouldn’t be happy if he knew.” I whispered.

Tristan leaned towards me. “I wouldn’t care if he found out.” He reached out and stroked my waist length hair and I felt a shudder run through my body. “I told you what would happen if you spoke my name to anyone. Do you remember that?”

I swallowed hard and took in a sharp breath. I tried hard to remember what was said that night yet no matter how hard I thought about it, it seemed to elude me. “I can’t seem to remember.” I heard him laugh softly. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye and suddenly noticed he was closer then I had expected. “To tell you the truth, I-I never forgot about you.”

“And why is that, my dear child?” Tristan whispered in my ear.

“I think it was the way you spoke to me and the way you held me.” I replied. “I remember you asking ‘is it a sin to want a child like I want you?’”

Before Tristan could reply the door flew open and my father walked in. The look he gave me was a look of complete disgust. I turned my eyes away and watched as Tristan rose to his feet and begin to greet the members of my family. He gave my grandparents a hug and spoke to them softly and soon turned his attention to my siblings.

After an hour of small talk Tristan cleared his throat. “If no-one minds I think it is about time to announce the heir to the ‘family business.’” My brother smiled happily and adjusted his shirt; he caught my eye and that smile turned to a sneer. “Please, I wish everyone to rise and raise their glass.” Everyone obeyed our guest without a word.

“Sir, if I may give you a word of thanks to you and your family for a friendship that has lasted generations.” my father said, bowing ever so slightly.

Tristan nodded with a smile. “And I, Sir McLain, announce the next heir of this family is to be Lenore.”

I stared wide-eyed at Tristan and heard the sound of glass shattering. I looked at my mother who was now in my father’s arm and suddenly noticed the look of pure hatred in my brother’s eyes. The urge to run away surfaced yet I couldn’t pry myself away from the spot. Tears were welling in my eyes and I looked at Maria who didn’t seem to care and then at my grandparents, both who were as shocked as I was.

“I should be the heir, you little whore.” Joseph roared. All eyes turned to him and silence fell over us all. “A mere child of seventeen shouldn’t be an heir, let alone a weakling of a woman.” Joseph approached me with anger in his step. “You should’ve been beaten and shipped away for what you did ten years ago.” Joseph pulled his hand back and I embraced myself for a slap, yet it did not happen. I looked up and found my brother’s arm was being held back by Tristan’s hand. The look in the man’s eyes could’ve stopped the devil in his tracks.

“You will not touch her.” Tristan snarled.

“Sir McLain, you cannot choose a daughter.” my father said, finally finding his voice. “The tradition says that a son of the family must become heir to the family business.”

Tristan let go of Joseph’s arm and frowned. “Do not speak to me about tradition, Gerald, I know them better then you.” He suddenly pointed at my grandfather. “Why not ask him about a daughter as heir.”

All eyes turned to my grandfather who had been silent up to that moment. He lowered his head and heaved a sigh that seemed too heavy for him; that was all that had to be said. My mother sobbed and looked at me with saddened eyes before hurrying out of the room with Maria quickly following.

“What is your reasoning to take her over Joseph?” my father spat.

“A bond was made between us that night we met.” Tristan replied. He glanced at me with eyes that confessed a love unknown to me. “It is an unspoken bond like that which has made the decision. I would rather have a soft-spoken young woman as heir than a boy who’d rather gloat about his prospects then become friends with a business partner.”

My father looked at me harshly. “You’ve been quiet this whole time, Lenore. What do you have to say about the situation?”

“If it’s going to cause such a fight between everyone,” I explained, “then I must deny Tristan his wishes.” Silence suddenly fell around me and I realized what I had said. I looked at my father who was aghast at what I had said and than at my grandmother who seemed to be near tears.

A smile inched across Tristan’s face as he looked at me. He held his hand out to me, those mismatched eyes entrancing me and unknowingly I took his hand. Tristan looked at my father and than my grandfather. “Lenore now belongs to me, whether or not she is heir to this family.”

“How is this possible?” my father roared.

“We had a verbal agreement ten years ago.” Tristan spat. “If she uttered my name to anyone then she would be mine. No matter what the age, a promise is to be kept no matter what.”