Ahh, as you can see, I've got another Sherlock/Tammy story in the works. Since, 'if you asked me to' do so well, I had to do another. This time, it's set in the Tudor time period and yes, I was somewhat inspired by Benedict's performance in the other Boleyn girl. The title, was inspired by the song 'Sirens' from the 'Jane Eyre' musical by James Barbour. Great song, I heartily suggest listening to it, to give you somewhat of an idea of what kind of drama we're heading for.

And as always, I own nothing except for Tammy.

Also, my grandfather passed away a few days ago. I've been distracted, as you can imagine, and maybe, this story will be a way of helping me collect my thoughts together. Don't expect my updates to be so quick, but, give me some time and this story will progress.

Chapter one: Sweet Liberty

"You worthless, piece of sewage from the gutter!"

I close my eyes as I listen to my father degrade my mother. She wasn't crying yet, but it was only a matter of time. Crack! The sound of flesh being slapped, a thud and a grunt informed me that my father had hit her hard enough to knock her to the ground. I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead against the locked door. I wanted to help her, but as I was locked in my room. My mother began crying and pleading for him to stop. I heard cloth tearing and my mother let out a sharp cry of pain. I kicked the door as tears streamed down my cheeks, frustration pulsating through me. I felt so weak, so useless, angry and guilty. It was my fault that my father was abusing my mother.

"You strumpet!" My mother let out another shuddering cry of pain. "You've…turned our daughter…into an ungrateful whore."

I stomped over to the window and flung it open. The chilly, wintery air rang through my room, whipping my hair back. I inhaled the sharp, chilled air, wishing with each breath I drew would cause my death.

I'd turned down Lord Roger Michelin's offer of marriage. My father had beaten me in front of Roger, demanding I change my mind, but I'd refused. He then dragged me to my room, by my hair and locked me inside. Now, he was taking out his anger on my mother and her already broken body.

As I inhaled the freezing cold air, the desire to die filled me. I hated it when this feeling came upon me, dying was one thing, but wishing for it was a sinful thing. Especially when I didn't know, what life held yet for me. As I listened to my mother's groans in the background, a strong desire suddenly filled my broken body.

I'd leave this house, I'd run away, leave. I don't know what father would do to mother, but, maybe if I weren't around, he wouldn't have a reason to come and torture her. I also realized that if I were gone, my father would put every single effort into trying to find me, leaving my mother alone for however long I was gone. I was a stubborn woman, foolish maybe, but I couldn't and wouldn't submit to my father's will and whims. Sinful, maybe, but I cannot do what he wishes when my heart isn't in it. I cannot marry any ancient, crude, lustful man just because his purse strings are big enough to suit my father.

I made my decision, it was as if my soul had been lit on fire and I decided to follow my heart and head. I grabbed two bags from under my bed and began to put undergarments and essentials in it. I had some money and fortunately, plenty of jewelry, which I could sell. My other valise, I put my dresses in. my father loved to waste money on my apparel, so these dresses would cost me a pretty fortune, I grabbed my warmest cloak, tied it on myself and chucked the bags out of the window, they landed on the snow with a thud.

I haphazardly gripped the curtain, lowered it out of the window and began to shimmy down it. Naturally, I couldn't reach the ground completely; I fell the last few feet, fortunately, onto a snow-filled bush. I didn't waste time grabbing my bags and glancing around. Nobody had seen me and nobody appeared to have heard my rather noisy descent. My father had ordered all windows closed and sealed during the winter, so no one could see me from inside. Grabbing my bags, I tramped through the snow towards the gate. I pushed through and then headed for the street, fortunately for me, there was a coach passing by at that moment and the man inside insisted on giving me a lift. Ordinarily, I was skeptical about help from strangers, but it served to get me from the house quickly.

It turned out to be fortuitous, the man immediately like the amber bracelet I was wearing and I asked him to name a price. He gave me fifty pounds, less than my bracelet was worth, but I thought it was a perfect price for me. Now, I could buy a ticket on the next coach out of here without having to spend my money.

The fifty pounds would allow me to get within 20 miles of London. Since, I had no relatives that far out, I decided to go there. It was a big city and it would be possible for me to find some sort of occupation. I wasn't sure what I was capable of doing, maybe I could find work as a seamstress or a ladies maid. I probably wasn't suited to even those little tasks, but, I'd been waited on and I was certain of how a lady's maid should act and I had a very good hand.

The coach dropped me off in the middle of nowhere. While it was cold that day, at least the sun was shining down on me. However, I could tell that I only had a matter of hours before the sunset. It was a two-mile walk to the nearest town, so I better get walking.

Drawing my hood over my head, I began walking the snowy and muddy path. My shoes were immediately soaked, as they weren't appropriate for this type of travel. However, all of my shoes were of the same inferior quality. Perfect for dancing, not trekking through the mud.

I inhaled and began singing a song that I'd heard from a group of minstrels. It's 7:00 in the morning; I lift my eyes to autumn skies. I look up to the graveyards, a silhouetted swallow fly. He flies to distant countries; I lose him just behind a cloud. I long to be that swallow and go where I am not allowed! Over mountain, over oceans, heaven take me away! For I long for my liberty, for sweet liberty I pray!

My song ends rather abruptly as my ears become aware of something in the forest to my left. I stopped singing and stand there. I can hear nothing except for the crackling of branches. I watch and I can see branches moving, but I can spot nobody. I am now realizing the folly of my actions. I am in the middle of nowhere, in the perfect spot to be ambushed and I have no earthly way to defend myself! I didn't even think of grabbing a dagger before leaving!

In my apprehension, I grabbed a handful of snow and wadded it into a snowball. I threw it at a tree, hoping to draw whatever was in the bushes attention towards it. However, I had a terrible aim, I missed the tree completely and my snowball went towards the rustling leaves. As I picked up another handful of snow, I heard a man shout. "OW!" All my fears dissipated as I realized that I had hit some unsuspecting person, probably upside the head with a snowball!

A man came stomping out of the woods; his expression was one of annoyance. I couldn't tell much of his physic, as he was bundled up. However, his face was extremely angular and his cheekbones were prominently sharp.

"Who are you?" He demanded. "And why are you throwing snowballs at me?"

Now, I was indignant. He thought I did it on purpose! I didn't even see him! "My name is Lady Tamara Trenowyth."

"Interesting name," he states. "you're named after the goddess of river and streams. Your name, though British, in Hebrew means 'date palm."

I roll my eyes as I grab my cases. "I'm glad you approve of my name, I believe I'll keep it." I held his gaze as I prepared to walk away. "As to what I was doing, I thought that you were an animal of sorts. Forgive me for succumbing the urge to find myself some sort of protection."

His brow arched in curiosity. "Granted." I roll my eyes and begin to walk away, only to find that he has begun to walk beside me. "You're not from around here."

"No, I'm not. Who are you anyway?" The question was out of my mouth before I could stop it.

His brow arched in curiosity, as if he were surprised that I didn't know him. He crossed his arms across his chest. "Sherlock Holmes."

I arch a brow. "And? Is that supposed to mean something?" Now, he looked amused at my indignation. "Am I supposed to be impressed?"

"You should be." He smirked, those blue, gold and green eyes of his danced in amusement.

"Well, I'm not! So, forgive me for not falling in a heap at your feet!"

He chuckled darkly as he surveyed me. "So, what are you running away from?" I open my mouth to protest, but he holds his hand up. "Don't even bother lying to me. You're obviously a lady of very high rank, your clothes, jewels and hair attest to that fact. You've got only two pieces of baggage, unusual, unless you were robbed. Though, judging by the firm tilt of your head and your temper, any thief would be idiotic to try to rob you."

"Thank you. Now, excuse me," I stated. "I've got two miles to walk to the nearest town."

He shook his head. "You'll never make it. There's a storm coming up, you don't have appropriate attire nor the shoes, you'd be found dead tomorrow."

"Then I better get moving and maybe I can beat the storm."

He exhaled in irritation and grabbed my bags from my hands. "Come."

I glowered at him and reached for my bags. "No!"

"You can stay at my parent's house, it's just through the woods." He began walking briskly through the woods. "Mother will be delighted to have you."

"Listen, Mr. Holmes, I appreciate the concern, but my life is none of your concern."

"Besides, I happen to know for a fact," he states as he glowers down at me. "that your father is probably ten minutes behind you." Now, he had my full attention. "You'll be granted safety at our house. I doubt any tavern or inn will offer you the same guarantee."

He continued walking and I followed behind him. My heart was pounding so badly in my chest that I couldn't form another word to voice an objection of him and his actions. I was in a strange place, with a strange man, yet, as I followed him through the woods, I felt safe for an unusual reason.