I think I liked you better when you didn't have a knife in your hand, Peaches

The queen

Blake walked silently down the long hallway, with Negan close at her side.

Neither of them had said a word to the other since they had left her room several minutes ago, and the eerie quiet made her feel slightly uneasy.

Did Negan suspect David of giving her those bruises?

It frightened her, that the fiercest she'd seen this well-known monster to be, was when he had thought one of his men had hurt her.

She really could not understand why he had seemed to have taken such a shine to her. And so quickly too. It had only been a day since Blake had woken up here, disoriented and sore, after all.

Perhaps Negan thought that the information she held on Rick and his group, was just that juicy.

She gave a gulp, chancing a quick glance over at the tall man at her side, holding his baseball bat cockily across one shoulder.

But Negan was quicker and more aware than she thought. Obviously traits which had been valuable in making him a leader.

His dark brown eyes immediately caught hers, his face fixing itself into a wicked grin.

"You enjoying the view there, BabyDoll?" he murmured in his low drawl, raising an eyebrow at her fiendishly.

Blake rolled her eyes at his comment, tearing her gaze away from him as they turned the corner, Negan leading her down a large iron staircase.

"So are you going to be escorting me to every meal?" she asked in a mocking voice, feeling slightly defensive.

She knew teasing the leader of the Saviours probably would not end well for her, but she knew that here, death could come at any second, so it didn't really seem to matter anyway. She really didn't trust Negan as far as she could throw him right now.

Negan smirked.

"Well I guess I'll have to, if you insist on wandering the halls in nothing but a towel and a nice smile," he said, lifting his chin and turning away from her.

Blake pursed her lips, giving the smallest of huffs as Negan pushed open a large green door that loomed ahead of them, and strode into the room, holding it open for her to follow him.

Inside was an large, cavernous room, the same one, in fact, that Blake had been brought to the previous day...with a high ceiling, industrial lighting and several long tables that seated twenty or so people on each.

At the far end of the room was a sort of make-shift canteen, with several men and women serving food from multiple trays and pots.

For a split second the place was loud and the din of people talking, laughing and eating was almost immense in the echoey room.

But almost immediately, not even a second later, silence hurriedly fell over the crowd of sixty or so people, their heads turning towards Blake and more importantly Negan.

The tall, dark-haired man beside her, grinned to himself, bringing himself up to his full height.

"As you were," Negan said in a loud carrying voice, arching his back as he uttered the words. "Don't mind me."

A second seemed to pass before a low and uneasy murmur carried through the gigantic room once again, as Negan beckoned Blake forwards.

It was obvious from the nervous surreptitious glances that followed Negan as he walked, that the leader of the Saviours didn't frequent these dinnertime get-togethers very often.

Negan pulled Lucille from his shoulder as they strutted forwards, allowing the long baseball bat to swing from his side instead.

"So this is where your people come to eat the food you've taken from us?" Blake commented a little snappily, staring up at Negan almost defiantly.