He crept, silent in the true sense of the word down the dark tunnels trying as hard as he could not to laugh. It was so hard not to just whoop and cackle with the pure forbidden joy of it all. It was so beautifully simple. But he couldn't laugh, not now, he knew that. He couldn't risk being caught. He hardly showed up in these twilight tunnels, even the darkness was on his side today, wrapping around him like a lover, protecting him like a suit of armour. His form flitted in and out of the shadows, further down, deeper into the precious earth, nearer to her. And there, she was. The tunnel ended at a thick decaying metal door, damp like just about everything else below ground. He paused, eyes closed, breathing steady, whatever you do don't laugh. Still silent, raised up on the balls of his feet, he took off the small pack he was carrying, now obviously separate whereas before it blended in to become part of him. He removed a small bottle and a cloth, opened the bottle, one, two, three, four drops on the cloth, and a quick pray that the dose was correct. He takes a silent lunge backwards then walks in an exaggerated way towards the door, his footsteps sounding now. He steps to the door and calls her name three times. There is a grumbling movement from behind the door. A scraping, jarring sound as bolts slide back, because a prison, he reflects doesn't just keep you in, it keeps other out.

"What do you want, it's late…"

She never saw him step out of the shadows behind her, although she undoubtedly felt him grab her around her neck and waist. She would have felt the rough cloth against her face, smelt that acrid sour smell that clung in the back of the throat and sent your brain spinning off into dream-time. He felt her go limp, held the cloth for a minute then lowered her to the floor. In that brief moment before he finished what he had come here to do, while he disposed of the cloth, he saw her, his eyes eating up every once of the experience. He reflected that he must be the first man outside the royal guard to see this girl since her fourth birthday. She wore her dark hair longer now and she was paler from the lack of sun. A small, lithe child. He dragged her, lay her down on the floor, and made sure that they wouldn't find her. Just in case she woke early, he bound her and gagged her so they wouldn't hear her scream.

"Sleep well little star, Astrea" He said to her, his normal voice sounded more child like then the deep voice he had called to her in, "try not to wake till tomorrow."

He stretched up to his full height, and seemed to disappear again in the shadows of the tunnels. He allowed himself to smirk, but he wouldn't laugh until he reached the surface and then he would laugh so hard he would make on lookers wonder about his sanity.