One night he had wandered the Narrows, aimlessly, familiarizing himself with a part of the city he spent little time in. He came to a stop at a bridge.... what became the bridge..... bloodscent seeping from Viccissitude-inflicted wounds into the damp night air. He watched the water below, thinking of conversations he and Miranda recently had concerning her inspiration found therein.....

He did not notice the man that walked up behind him, but was not surprised at his presence, nor when he spoke.

The smooth Giovanni offered more pain in his kiss than even the most skilled bladesman could acheive..... temptation no young, groomed Lillin could resist. The servant to the Lord, the slave to the Master, he was willingly lead to the nearby alley.... soon his screams echoed into the night.

He had pleased, he had fulfilled a Lord's wishes, and that should have been enough. But he was drawn back to the Narrows, again, to search for this man who could bring the utmost pleasure and pain in a single touch.

During one of these ventures he met Caralina Drase, the temporary curator of the Tobin Museum and Sabbat hating Brujah. Throughout the altercation he did not fight back, once, most of his ribs and face broken from her punishment..... from her teaching...... he welcomed each blow until a single touch of his talents stopped her in her tracks.

Caralina has since changed her ways.

The next night, he wandered the Narrows again, injured, but searching..... and Leon found him on the bridge. Once more he drank, but had to stop because of the injuries having weakened the young Lillin, he did not take as much as he wished....

A failure that upset Matthias greatly.

The next few nights were spent healing himself to where he would not disappoint again. Feeding at the very beginning of his walks in order to have more than necessary available. Needing so very desperately to make up for his mistake, to please Leon once again.

And again the Giovanni found him.

But Leon realized something this time, that to drink once more would bond him. So he refused..... and devastated Matthias, who had worked and tried so very hard to make the next encounter fulfill the gap left by the last. Rejected so brutally, in a soft phrase, Leon's regret at being unable to feed nearly bringing Matthias to tears. But an Independant bonded to a Sabbat. Leon himself obligated to anybody. A Lord bonded to the servant..... one that would.... could never abuse the bond, as Leon himself would do, for it went completely against his nature. Power something so foreign to the young Tzimisce he could not use it even if he wanted to, only if he was ordered.

So Leon drank once more, knowing that even after the bond, Matthias would forever remain the servant. Freedom now found in the ability to give him the gift of vitae unhindered by the danger of the bond.

Come December, Matthias had been without word from Gregori for two months, and finally admitted that he may never hear from him again. The fact drove him into frenzy, unable to handle the foreign concept of greif. He did not know how to hurt emotionally, only physically, so his despair manifested itself in Viccissitude - tearing himself apart from the inside out.

The more damage inflicted, the more bodies he went through, randomly killing to replace his blood as fast as it poured from his wounds. His throat torn out by bone-taloned hands as he tired of hearing his own anguished screams. Instinctively, he went back to the bridge, to wait, to hope...

And one more, the Giovanni found him, crouched above a puddle of his own blood that dripped from the railing he perched on.

Leon took him home, and cared for him, teaching him how to cry for his pain once again - something he had forgotten that day tied to the hitching post. Something he was taught to never do the day he came into Gregori's tutiledge. Leon taught him to grieve for his Sire, and for himself.

Then, softly, Leon asked him to stay.

And Matthias, having never even known a caring touch other than that of his Sire, or of Miranda, agreed. Curling into an embrace brought not from the bond, but something that had kindled far deeper.

Something that was reflected in himself, as well, even if he did not understand what it was.