I though I'd try my hand at writing a New Vegas fan fiction. Though it's not following the Courier's adventure, you follow my own character, Domitia.

Please tell me what you think! Any ideas or suggestions is appreciated.

It was midnight when they grabbed me. I felt a large calloused hand wrap around my mouth and another around my arm dragging me out of my bed. I didn't scream, or fight, I just obeyed. I didn't because I couldn't think, couldn't register, things where happening around me and I partially assumed I was dreaming.

This man, this stranger, pulled me out of my house into the cold. I could hear another man behind me, carrying my brother no doubt, there where more footsteps, behind him. My parents, I could hear my mother weeping my father was silent. I couldn't look back for the stranger's hand was on my neck, big enough to snap it if I tried anything to his displeasure. I continued walking, my bare feet cold against the sand. In the distance I saw a cart being pulled by a Brahmin, like the ones my father watched over. This one not ours though, that was obvious. It was bigger, made to haul things long distance, ours where for meat.

They pushed me into the covered cart and placed my sleeping six year old brother on my lap. I stole a glance back there was a large fire built in the middle of our town, around it where men in armour. I couldn't see the colour in this light and this far away. They had all our adults from town corralled between them. I saw my mother try to break through the to get to me. I could see her face in my mind, like mine, at least that's what everyone said. Her large blue eyes, overly large lips, a delicate face all in all. Her hair was red though, mine a dirty blond, villagers laughed and said that was the only way to tell us apart. She called out to me, I couldn't hear her. The crying children in the cart where too loud.

My father was by her side also calling to us. His strong tan arm wrapped around my mother's shoulders. I wish I could actually see their faces instead of imagining them. My father's lean angular face came to my mind, his large genuine smile, his crooked broken nose and those shining blue eyes. The sudden urge to get out and run to them struck me, I tried to get up but felt I couldn't. My baby brother was in my lap, though hardly a baby. I knew I couldn't carry him all that way. I was too small, too weak.

The carriage lurched, the Brahmin mooed and it set off. I looked at my parents until I knew I couldn't see them and was just imagining them. I finally tore my eyes away and looking at my companions. Many where the children from my home, a few I didn't recognize and three beautiful young women, no older then eighteen I guessed. The kids from my village where still crying, I pulled the smallest one towards me and rubbed her back to calm her down.

I felt my brother stir on my lap. He looked up at me, "Is it over?" He asked quietly. He hadn't been sleeping at all. I brushed his messy red locks out of his eyes and tried to smile at him.

"I hope so, Ardel, I hope so." I suddenly felt sick. Who were these people and where were they taking us? I couldn't imagine people who kidnap children in the night being decent people. I absentmindedly stroked my brother's hair and hummed a tune my mother would sing us until he drifted back off to sleep. The other children soon quieted down as well.

Morning came and I was awoken by the sudden stop of our carriage. I blinked a few times, as my eyes adjusted to the morning sun. I listened to the unfamiliar noises around me. There where people, a lot of people. More then I was used to. The nearest voices where all male, their low tone and abruptness struck me as very formal. I heard more of distant Brahmin calls, a bizarre metallic scraping noise and suddenly a loud clear male voice.

"Out." He barked at us. The smallest children clamoured out first, not fully understanding the concept of fear and uncertainty. I gently pushed my brother out and followed him close, always keeping a hand on his shoulder.

"Ah-way, True to Kaisar" I heard a man say to another. Kaisar? What was that. Though I didn't have time to think to hard about it when we were instructed to stand in a line.

A tall man, dressed him crimson armour and a savage looking helm made from the head of a dog examined us. He took particular interest in the three young women. He made a crass statement to another man and they laughed. Though not a laugh I was used to, it wasn't jovial and light hearted, it sounded mean and haunting.

We where brought to a house, run down, with a all the windows boarded up and row after row of bunk beds like the ones my brother and I shared. "These are for you" The man called to a older woman, she looked to be in her fifties. Her skin was tan an leathery, her eyes looked tired but stern, her grey hair was flecked with chestnut brown probably the colour she was born with. She nodded and as he left she muttered something about not having enough for to start with.

Those stern eyes examined us all once over and put the older girls to work immediately, telling them to go with another young woman to clean the barracks. Once they had left she looked at me.

"You girl, how old are you?" she demanded taking my chin in her hand, rotating my head slowly to the left and right.

"Fourteen, ma'am." I said softly.

"Looks younger. Lucky, I'll keep you here, safe. You'll help me watch the children. You shouldn't be trotted out for the Legionaries just yet. Too young." She was right, I did look young. My body was frail and boyish, I had not yet developed into a woman and now suddenly I was glad for it. I looked back at the woman, she didn't smile but the look she gave suggested it. I knew she'd try and keep me safe.

Almost two years had passed since I had been captured, and since then it has astounded me how much I've grown and matured both physically and mentally. I looked like a woman now, sort of, my large eyes and mousey hair still gave off the overwhelming essence of youth but from the neck down, I was a woman. Though every day I was pained with not being near my parents, I learned to cope with it by essentially becoming one. I cared for all the children that the Legion captured.

The Legion, I have learned, is a large military organisation complied of reconditioned tribes from across the wasteland and run by a man named Caesar (I've heard his named pronounced two ways, the Legion tends to go with Kai-sar, while the slaves and caravan merchants say it See-sar). They take their children and train them up to be soldiers. Well only the men, their where no female legionnaires. The best a woman could hope for is to be a wife of a high ranking official. We were basically breeders. The people they caught or those who disobeyed the will of Caesar were either crucified and left to die or turned into slaves, hauling enormous packs up and down hills just too keep them busy.

I have quickly learned not to talk unless asked a direct question. Early in my enslavement I learned this the hard way by asking where my parents were. The bruises stayed with me for a week and I quickly learned not to speak out of turn.

Lorraine, the stern woman who has cared for me since I've arrived, has been the second best thing to a mother I could ask for. True she was stern and harsh, but she helped me survive and keep out of trouble. She was in no way similar to my own mother, who had been caring and loving, soft and sweet but that treatment doesn't get you any where in Caesar's Legion. I still think about my parents every day and it saddens me to see my younger brother forget them.

He was a strong boy of eight now, looking more and more like my father everyday except for that dusty red hair that belonged to my mother. He would often ask me what our parents where like, having few memories of them now that his head was filled with thoughts of the Legion. I would tell him and he'd screw up his little face trying to recall. He doesn't ask any more though. He was to busy sword fighting with wooden sticks with his friends to bother.

Lately, Lorraine has been keeping me indoors or close to her. She says she doesn't want the recruits staring at me or taking advantage of me. I don't quiet understand what she means by this but I do as she says. Very few men come to the children's barracks. They only come to tell Lorraine that one of the boys has been misbehaving , other then that it's just me and a couple of women chosen to take care of the children.

I suddenly remembered the three girls I came here with. One tried to run off shortly after we arrived, she was caught and sentenced to the life of a slave. The other married an officer and they left to a different encampment across the desert and the third died recently. She was collecting leaves and nuts from plants near by when a miniscule Radscorpion stung her, the legionnaires with her didn't bother to treat the wound, feeling it wasn't worth using their limited stalk on her. She died out there in the wastes.

I had awoken to a commotion out side, I could hear troops marching outside. I got out of bed and put my naked feet on the wooden floor and quickly dressed. I noted Lorraine was not inside, which is highly unusual. I instructed the kids to stay in bed while I went to investigate. However, before I could cross the room an infant started to cry. I scooped the new born up and comforted him, seemed that he just wanted to be held. The baby belonged to one of our newer slaves and now it was our job to raise him without ever knowing his mother and with the ideals of the Legion baked in to his head.

I opened the door and stood on the step. The recruits stood in a line in front of our house and down the dirt path. Luckily, the step to our house was raised so I could see over the heads of the tall men, I only being five feet five inches tall. I stood on my toes too look down the path trying to see what the commotion was about.

Then I saw why there was such a commotion. He walked tall and noble, even if you didn't know who he was you would know he was important. His hair was silver and short, his eyes narrowed and quick. He was intimidating even to me who was no where near him and behind a wall of the Legion's recruits. I have never seen him before but I knew who he was. "Caesar" I murmured under my breath.

As if he heard me, he looked up and met my gaze. I blushed furiously and looked down. I should be inside, I shouldn't be out here. I've ruined this ceremony and they'll have me to be a slave. I went to turn back inside when I heard something that made my blood turn to ice.

"You girl." He didn't raise his voice but it carried. A low smooth rumble, commanding and terrifying. I turned slowly, looking up but not meeting his gaze. He was closer then I had thought. He troops parted as he and his best men came up to the step. I stood over them but felt so insignificant. "Who are you?"

"Domitia, my lord." I surprised myself by actually speaking. I though for sure I would be sick. Caesar looked up at me and I held the baby closer to me.

"Domitia" He seemed to mull the name over in his mind, "Is that yours?" He asked referring to the softly cooing babe.

"No , my lord. I merely care for the children here with Lorrain." I could feel my knees trembling.

"Why have I not seen you around camp. Surely, something as beautiful as yourself I would have noticed" his voice reminded me of a nighstalker, the reptilian dog-like like animal, smooth and sleek, quiet and yet deadly.

"I stay here, I don't go wandering around the camp. The children need me." I was going to collapse. Why? Why is he bothering talking to me? I'm sure he more important business then to talk to some naïve teenager.

"Shame, you'd be a welcome change of scenery. How old are you, child?" His voice, his voice commanded answers without even trying.

"Nearly sixteen, my lord. Next week shall be my birthday." I wanted the baby to cry or one of the boys to poke their head out of the door just so I would have an excuse to leave. Caesar chuckled, I have never heard anything more terrifying in my life.

"Next week. I'll have to remember to get you a gift." I felt heat rush through my face, my head pounded and was so relieved when he took one last look at me from head to toe and then turned his back and continued down the path.

I managed to get back inside, put the infant in his crib before collapsing to the ground. The kids that were awake surrounded me all asking me questions. "What's going on?" "Who was that?" "Are you okay?". I told them it was Caesar, they all gasped and where disappointed they didn't get to greet him. I am so thankful that they didn't.

Shortly afterward, when I heard the usual hustle and bustle resume in the streets, Lorraine came through the door looking horror struck. "Domitia, what have you done?" She gasped, she grabbed me by the shoulder and looked me directly in the eye.

"Nothing. I merely went out to see what the commotion was. I made sure that the children stayed inside." I knew I had done something wrong. I knew I shouldn't of left the house.

"He wishes to speak to me about you. What did you say to him?" Her dark eyes were wide.

"Nothing! I just answered the questions he asked me. I wasn't even planning on staying outside as long as I did but he called me." Lorraine let go of me and slipped into a chair. She let out a sigh, I didn't quiet understand her fear. I honestly felt as though I had done nothing wrong. I thought back on the conversation. I couldn't think of anything that I had said that could deserve punishment from Caesar, but I was a child, what did I know?

"I am meeting him tonight, he wishes to discuss your fate here. You must of said something to offend him." The woman looked so worried, the age showed in her face. She got up and paced the floor.

"I said nothing." I tried to defend myself, but if Caesar wanted me a slave, then I would be a slave, or dead, worse yet, I would be up on those beams, crucified and set out as a warning to all other who dare oppose this man.

All day I could barely focus on my chores, and while preparing the kids dinner I slipped and cut my hand pretty bad. I hissed in pain, Lorraine sighed (she had been watching me all day, not saying a word, just watching) and grabbed me a piece of cloth and wrapped it around my hand. I looked up at her, "sorry." I murmured sheepishly. She just shook her head at me.

Time ticked closer to the when Lorraine was to meet Caesar, neither of us ate dinner. The kids where all excited, chattering about the adventures the sun lit hours had brought them. The boys talked about meeting Caesar when they were at their combat lessons, how he had talked them up and made them even more excited to one day be in his army. Caesar didn't often visit our settlement but he was on the move to a place they called 'The Fort' for they were to attempt to take Hoover Dam again from the New California Republic. He would stay here and have his men rest and make the final trek up the river to the fort. I smiled and feigned interest in the boys stories but I hardly heard them. My food remained untouched and I looked down the table to the grim faced woman across from me.

After dinner had been cleaned up and the kids where settling down for the evening, Lorraine grabbed a shall and threw it around her shoulders in preparation to head to Caesar's quarters. I stood as well assuming I was going with her.

"You stay and watch the children." She said coldly.

"I want to come. I want to hear my fate first hand." I protested.

"No. Stay." At these words I sat back down and felt myself scowl at the woman. I wasn't one to disobey or oppose direct orders but it seemed to me that I should be dealt my fate directly. I watched as she left, it was everything in me not to follow her but I simply didn't have the courage to violate an order. I chose to sit by the door and send the kids to bed early.

It felt like decades until Lorraine had come back, my eyes had become heavy waiting for her but I stayed in my chair facing the door. Finally, she silently entered the house, I could barely make out her face due to the dim lighting but I could tell it was as grave as ever. Bad news, I knew it. Though I still couldn't figure out what I had done. I had replayed the scene over a thousand times in my mind.

Lorraine turned from me as I stood, hanging the old tattered shall on a coat hook by the door. She didn't turn back when it was secured. I knew she could feel my eyes on her, I was mentally trying to pierce her skull and see what she had seen, hear what she had heard.

"What's to happen to me?" I whispered. I felt my whole body tense up, I felt as I was going to be sick. Why wouldn't she look at me? I need an answer but she kept looking away, distracting herself with a dirty dish or a misplaced article of clothing. "please, tell me." I went right behind her and touched her elbow, hoping that physical contact would bring her back to reality.

"Do not worry, child. You had done nothing wrong." I would have smiled and laugh if not for her tone. She finally looked at me, square in the eye, "Caesar wishes to take you as his wife."

I lay in bed, a thousand thoughts swirled in my mind, sleep was near impossible. His wife? Why? He doesn't know me! Why would he do such an absurd thing? His wife. I was just a mousey girl with too big eyes, an overly large mouth and skinny meek features. What man would want that? Caesar, apparently. Maybe it's a trick, maybe they where going to kill me and this was just code. No, no, Lorraine would tell me. She doesn't believe in disguising things for the personal feelings of a person, even children. Things are what they are and that's it. But it was too unbelievable.

I am to be married on my sixteenth birthday. Sweet sixteen and never been kissed, well now I would be a wife. I don't think any girl my age would want that. I was going to be a wife, in six days. Unbelievable. Impossible. And not just anyone's wife, I would be Caesar's wife. The man who entire armies under his control, a man over three times my own age, a man who people wanted to kill, a man people feared, a man I didn't know. This man was to be my husband.

I had no choice but to accept it. What would I say to him? What do you say to some one like that? This was to be my life, now. Fussing and complaining would only get me killed. Maybe if I was lucky he'll die or be assassinated and I'll be free. True I will have the stigma of being Caesar's widow but if a man loves me, that shouldn't matter. Perhaps I'll just be handed down to the person next in line. There's no telling what the future has for me. I can guarantee that what ever the case, it would not be an easy one.