Author's Note: ACK! Major huge freakin' ack! Ppl think I'm dead! *_* Not dead! Very much alive... Just not writing for a very long, long time.... Oops... I'm sorry, guys (the few that have actually stuck with this story--I so don't blame the ones that have given up and left...) but I just suffered the worst bout of writer's block ever!! That and *gasp, sob* I lost interest in both this fic and Gundam Wing--life sorta sprung on me and I haven't had time to write really anything in the last few months.

Anywho, for the few that have stayed (I both fear and admire you ^_~) here's the next chapter with 18 soon to follow --I'm working on it nearly constantly now, so hopefully it'll be out in at least a month-- Sorry and thanx!!

P.S. I am not dead!! *^_^*  But thanks for the flowers

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or any of its characters ^_^

Dawn and Moon Wars

Chapter Seventeen

"As she stated, you are guilty of all said crimes, so my decision is quite easy." Dorothy's smirk widened as she watched the evident confusion and hate play across Trant's features. But he understood more of what was happening than Duo. She'd explain to the elf later... If she was in a good mood. "Yet, it truly isn't that easy. Do you deserve to be executed by me or by someone that was forced to suffer much longer?" She turned toward Nattie, "Nattie-."

The scarred warrior shook her head, "It be not my right."

Dorothy blinked, surprise flittering across her face. "Crone?" The hunched figure shook her head, her beady eyes watching Dorothy's face closely and the sorceress slowly faced the arrogant slave driver. Dorothy supposed his disgusting surety and lack of shame should anger her, but after hearing the witch's words she understood the role she was to play. She no longer felt hate toward this man... She felt absolutely nothing. His death mattered not to her if the slaves didn't wish it.

"I curse you, Trant of Ransik." She stabbed her dagger forward, its sharp end an inch away from his convulsing throat. Thin, barely seen threads of elemental magicks flowed from the blade, tainted red as they wound around the struggling man. "I curse you."

"Whoring bitch!" Trant yelled as he stumbled to his feet, shuddering as the sorceress curse sank into his bones. Duo snarled, but Dorothy merely turned away.

"You are nothing to me, Trant. Nothing."

"The braided one be not trusted if you be wishin' he live." Nattie warned and Dorothy spun around to see Duo's poisonous nails inching toward Trant's neck, the man still cursing her, but too fearful to attack.

"Duo, no!"

"If you will not do it, Dorothy, I will." Duo hissed, "He doesn't deserve to live and I won't allow it. I cannot honor your judgement. His death shall be on my hands and I will accept that fact, yet I will not let him run free. I will not!" His harsh words cut through Trant and the slave driver turned toward the elf, backing away as Duo inched forward, his movements slow as if he wished the man before him to feel every second of pain he could deliver.

Trant gasped, his mouth fell open and Duo stared as a stream of blood dripped down the man's chin. He fell forward, landing in a heap before the elf's feet and violet eyes raised to see Dorothy pull back the blood dagger, its blade no longer glowing yet its hunger clearly abated. She met his eyes with a coolness that many would both fear and envy.

"This is an execution, not murder. No hands are stained, let him meet his true judgement in hell."

"Dorothy..." His voice was a mixture of anger and despair as he took a step toward her, his features flickering between elven and human. She didn't even meet his eyes as she turned and made her way to the woods.

"I came here to show the slaves how to attain freedom. I did not come to lead them. My part in this act is over..." She sheathed the dagger and ran a hand through her long hair. She felt dirty... A shiver passed through her body and something warm was draped over her and in the chaos as slaves and townspeople fought, Dorothy turned to meet Duo's somewhat calmer eyes as he draped a cloak over her shoulders. It wasn't his and it wasn't hers and she didn't truly want to know where he'd found it... But she accepted its warmth.

"No matter what happens, I shall be here." Duo whispered, his voice still a bit hoarse and his breath tickled the back of her neck.

"Of course. A promise is a promise." Her feet quickened and she left the Elysian King. Nattie and Crone passed the still elf, the scarred woman glancing toward him in open curiosity. He ignored the two former slaves and kept his eyes on the sorceress's retreating form.

They needed to speak about what had happened back there among that anarchy... Yet, there was also more...

"Promise or no, I'd be here..." And the Elysian King jogged to meet the others in the woods. Behind him, a cry went up as slaves lit torches and a few took up swords. Smoke darkened the sky as flames hungrily licked at buildings and cages were hacked at... The yells of both fighting men and struggling slaves filled the air and no one even noticed the sorceress's absence or Duo's... And Trant's still body was merely another casualty.

      *

Millardo watched from his balcony as Lucrezia disappeared, the sun just barely rising above the hills. He didn't know why he had let her go free, yet he knew it meant only one thing: he wasn't strong enough. He was weak and Lucrezia had forced him to face his weakness... Relena and Lucrezia... He had always accepted the fact that Relena's death may be inevitable, but he would not have her die by his hand... She was his sister and was not at fault for his banishment. Some would say his logic was understandable...

Yet, why Lucrezia? An old childhood friend that had been incredibly loyal in their younger years... Yet, the little girl was long gone and in her place stood a beautiful and proud woman. Captain Lucrezia Noin was a strong woman and her loyalty now graced another. She was his enemy, yet... Millardo pressed a hand against his face, wincing slightly at the pressure against his tender nose. He suspected she'd broken it from their earlier fight, yet he'd suffered worse...

He walked into his room, his cool blue eyes barely seeing what lay before him. Her eyes haunted him. She had the darkest blue eyes, yet they glittered with life... No, they were aflame with life. Her whole being sung of it and, for the first time in his life, Millardo thought of a woman. Not a Mistress that had enslaved men, but just a woman... His fingers twitched as he faced a large mirror and stared at his reflection. His nose was a bit crooked, yet it wasn't himself he saw.

She had disagreed with him, admitted to being loyal to Relena, and yet had asked to stay with him. He licked his lips and leaned closer to the cool glass. Who was it she saw to ask such a thing? To put herself at risk in such a manner...

"My Moon..."

Did she still see the young boy from her past? Did she still see Zechs?

A cough. "My Moon...?"

Or did she truly see the man he'd become...

"Your highness?"

And if she saw him and just him... Then what had caused her plead to stay?

"Evening Star?"

Millardo spun around, one hand wrapping around the guard's throat as he shoved him against the wall. "Do not call me that. Do you understand?" The guard swallowed and nodded, his eyes widening as he slumped to his knees, Millardo having released him. "What is so important?"

"The rebellions are being taken care of, my Moon, and..." The guard's eyes darted about, his face pale as his next words fell from his lips in a sudden rush. "The country of Ransik is suffering serious problems. In one of its southern towns, the slaves rebelled and succeeded. The town is now nearly abandoned and the slaves are traveling, spreading the word and gathering followers. They've succeeded in freeing the slaves of two more cities and officials are screaming that it is, um, your fault, my Moon." He winced, as if suspecting the Moon would take his anger out on the messenger, yet Millardo merely nodded.

"Interesting. And who do we have to blame for this sudden change?"

The guard licked his lips nervously, "The slaves keep shouting about someone called 'The One'. Some say it is the Mother come to show her children the truth... Others, that it is a powerful sorceress whose powers and beauty cause men to throw down their weapons and immediately join her cause... The stories vary, my Moon."

"A sorceress is more likely than the supposed Mother." Millardo raised an eyebrow as he thought aloud. "The Reborn Dawn still lives. It is likely she is behind this, a ruse to gain the support of slaves here... She'll do anything to regain her throne and control. There is a man I want found. He goes by the name of Edward Ekans. He's a mage and flaunts the fact. He worked under a Trant of Ransik, a slave driver. I want him found. Send a scouting party of fifteen men to Ransik and find him."

"But, my Moon, there's hundreds of towns!"

Millardo lowered a dangerous gaze toward the man, "Are you questioning my orders?"

"No, sir!" The man nearly tripped over himself as he bowed before bolting from the room. Not even waiting for the Moon's permission and Millardo watched the man with a hint of cold amusement. He needed that mage... Those silver collars of his would be needed to keep the sorceresses in line when the time came... And that reminded him.

"I wonder how our dear Lady Pluto is doing..."

      *

Sylvia shook her head, her eyes large with disbelief as she stared at the cold floor. Her hands gripped the wall opposite the web and two of her nails had snapped from the pressure, but the lady didn't even notice. A broken nail was a mere twinge after all the pain she'd been forced to endure. Over and over, she could hear the web-seer's words.

"You and so many others have been living a lie. What you believe to be true is merely a reflection of half the image."

"I don't understand you. I don't understand anything you've said! What is it that is so important that you came here to see me? I am the messenger of bad tidings. Then give me my message and leave me be!" Tears streamed down the Lady's face as she yelled at the wraith before her, no longer fearing the guards hearing. She had a feeling that if she looked, the guards wouldn't even be awake...

Jaclyn arched an eyebrow and her glassy green eyes narrowed behind her lenses. "The truth, my lady? In the simplest of words, the truth is the Moon is right. The enslavement of males must end. You worship a goddess called the Mother, who in anger cursed the men of this land. And your other patron god, the Father, left, too saddened by this despicable slavery to stay. You seem surprised, my lady. Believe me, that realization is nothing compared to the information I hold."

Sylvia slid down the wall, her back stinging slightly at the movement. How long had she been conversing with the fade? She squeezed her eyes shut, no longer wanting to see the web-seer that watched her so intently. It couldn't be true... None of it could be.

But it was. By the Mother, it was true. Each word had been an arrow to her heart and she had felt the truth in their slow poison. She supposed, she believed so readily because she was meant for this... That was what Jaclyn had said. She was meant for this.

"I don't want this..."

Jaclyn kneeled, her ghostly hands sending a chill through Sylvia's body as she pushed up her chin. "You are scared because what I ask of you is more than steady beatings and torture."

"You're asking me to turn my back on every belief I have ever held dear and embrace this... this..." Her voice broke and she sobbed silently into her hands. Mother, she was so confused. Nothing was simple anymore... It hadn't been since that day she'd been sent to the Dawn Capital as a Representative of the Galaxy Court. She'd been so excited that day, so proud... Now, she wanted nothing more than to be another noble that watched the Galaxy leaders with awe and respect.

"I ask you to embrace the truth and the truth is usually harder to swallow than a barrel of lies." The wraith stood, seeming to tower over the lady. "Unlike so many others in these perilous times, you have the time to make your decision. I haven't come to force you into a decision, but to merely show you another choice in the life before you."

"And that's it? You're just going to leave me?" Sylvia struggled to her feet and reached for the fade, but her hands passed through the girl and she clenched her fingers into tight fists. "You tell me this and you won't even help me? Or help the Dawn?"

"I didn't come here to help the Dawn. I came here to show you the truth. Perhaps, if you survive, this knowledge will help you help the Dawn. And of your freedom from this... I cannot." Jaclyn looked away, her face flickering slightly as she stared toward her web.

"You know something... Tell me! Is this all I have to look forward to?!"

"Your future is for you to learn on your own... To live is one of the gods' greatest gifts. Accept it, Lady Sylvia, and hold it dear." The wraith removed her moon-shaped spectacles and faded as quickly as she'd appeared. Sylvia screeched as she flung herself forward.

"No! Don't leave me!" Sylvia slammed into the wall, her cell now empty, and she turned to watch as the web disintegrated before her eyes. She tasted blood in her mouth, her cut lip had reopened, and she fell to the floor. "Alone..."

      *

Lanetta paced before the onyx prison, her brown eyes watching the cell's occupants. Sally leaned over the sleeping Hilde, her hands seeking out for any internal injuries. She smiled, relieved, when her hands found nothing hinting at such and she turned to face the Sadist Queen who watched her so intently. Wufei leaned against the cell's walls, his onyx eyes narrowingas he missed the comforting weight of his sword. The Healer walked forward, stopping only when the prison barred her way.

"Are you feeling well, your majesty?" Her sweet voice almost seemed mocking, yet the Queen ignored the tone.

"Why did you save my life?" Lanetta leaned closer, her nose nearly touching Sally's. "Why save the life of someone who despises every action you take? The saving of my life, this ignorant quest to help the dwarves, sacrificing yourself in an endeavor to save your comrades? Sadists enjoy destroying virtue. Why should I not destroy you?"

Sally smiled, a glint in her eyes, "Because a part of you is with me now. I didn't even realize it till after I'd healed you. It happens every time I use the glove. I didn't even notice the first time because Hilde regrets very little and has done very little to harm others. It doesn't just heal your wounds, your majesty. It heals the soul. It heals the holes of hatred and darkness that have rotted away at it."

"And then you take them? Is that it?"

"Of course not. I merely take payment. When I say a part of you is with me, I mean a debt. I have healed more than just the wounds I inflicted upon your flesh. I healed the darkest parts of your soul." She lowered her voice to a mere whisper so the Sadist Queen had to strain to hear the Healer. "I saw what lied inside of you and I made it something you could live with. In doing so, I have been changed myself. I have seen the horrors you have committed, the seductions you have planned, and the innocence you have stolen. Yet, I chose to still heal you. Seeing such things has made me realize that I cannot judge any species. I can only heal what I can... Yet, it has also taught me that I can no longer allow myself to be used by people such as you. You speak of destroying my innocence when you have already succeeded in doing so." Sally's smile widened, "You have made me stronger and, in doing so, have made me a stronger Healer."

"You make it sound as if you are thanking me." Lanetta replied, confused and growing angry and somewhat frightened as the healer spoke more and more. Could this be true?

"I am, yet do not take it to heart, your majesty. You still owe me for what I have done and what I will still do for you and your kind."

"And what is it you wish?" The Queen's hands clutched at the thin material of her dress, her nails sinking into the fabric and piercing her palms. 'It cannot be true!' Yet, Lanetta was not a foolish woman and as each moment passed she realized the Healer's words were affecting her. And that should have been impossible... And since it was proving to be quite possible, it merely proved her words to be truth.

"For your people to leave the dwarves be and to allow my friends to leave alive and unharmed."

Lanetta turned away, her brown eyes troubled. She licked her sweet lips and nodded sharply. "So be it. I will do as you ask. The dwarves were a mere distraction..."

"And I shall help you one more time." Sally leaned back, her voice still too low for Wufei to hear.

"And what will I owe you for this next bout of kindness?" The sadist asked bitterly, turning to face the Healer once more.

Sally looked toward the ground, her smile disappearing. "Believe me, I dislike asking anything of you for what I did was merely my duty as a Healer. What I will do next is for nothing. It is merely me answering my calling."

Lanetta raised a delicate eyebrow, "And this is?"

"I wish to help your son."

The Queen's mouth widened into a small 'O' then she shook her head, disbelieving her ears. She blinked and met the Healer's gaze. Her voice was no longer its seductive purr as she spoke, yet hoarse with unshed tears. "You are wrong, Healer... Your innocence has not been destroyed..." She raised a small hand to her face and wiped tears away. "What have you done to me?" Sally heard her whisper before the Queen turned toward the silent Sadist guards. "Release them and then you," she motioned once toward Sally, "shall follow me..."

Wufei stepped forward and whispered into the Sally's ear, causing the healer to shiver slightly at the feel of his warm breath. "What have you agreed to?"

He sounded worried... Sally refused to look at him. Her anger had returned... How could he not have trusted her? Even now he believed she was leading herself to death with each step. Yes, he'd grown up differently from most men she knew, yet... She frowned. Who was being more foolish: her for being angry with him for caring and worrying over her safety or him for not believing in her? Sally sighed, "I have agreed to nothing. I am merely following my calling."

And she walked out of the cell, following the Sadist Queen...

      *

Relena looked up as Dorothy entered the clearing. The Dawn removed her hand from the chestnut stallion's nose and stepped forward, worry painted across her face. Yet, something about the sorceress stopped the woman and she merely watched as Dorothy swung herself onto the pale mare's back. The horse suited the sorceress, it had snapped at Relena when she'd first approached it.

The Reborn Dawn watched as Dorothy cut a strap of cloth from the cloak she wore and used it to tie back her long, flaxen hair. Her blue-gray eyes passed over Relena and the Dawn felt anger begin to course through her blood. Dorothy was a friend and she had accepted the fact the sorceress would no longer be her Advisor, but this was too much. The Dawn ignored the approaching figures and grabbed the snappish mare's bridle, yanking its head toward her. The mare snorted and dull teeth loomed near Relena's hand, yet she merely locked gazes with the blonde sorceress.

"I will not be ignored. You have sworn to help me and I am your Reborn Dawn. I ask not to be revered, Dorothy, but I will not be treated with such blatant disregard. I have always seen you as an equal. I expect the same from you."

Dorothy frowned before looking away; "I will help your cause, Relena, worry naught. Yet, I am no longer sure who I am. We are children of prophecy. Our lives, our births, came about for these moments. I just wish... I wish to forget what has happened this day, what I just did. The beauty of war is stark and haunting, burning at one's eyes and flesh. Each step we takeis a battle. Another piece added to the tapestry of war. I feel as if my life is not my own, but a destiny that someone else controls. As if everyone I have met has been introduced into my life just to lead me to these moments." The sorceress leaned down and removed Relena's hand from the bridle, squeezing it tenderly. "Keep safe, Relena. You are the true heroine of our times. I only hope you do not lose your faith." She released her hand and sat straight in the saddle. "Panther, keep her safe or I will have your head."

From the far edge, far from the horses that distrusted him, the Panther merely grunted. As if he would let any harm come to she that could change him back. Of course, that was the only reason... He growled lowly and the horses shied.

"Nattie, Crone, you do not want to go where I am traveling to." Dorothy told the two slaves, which had watched the events before them with barely a change of expression. They'd both seen stranger things in their lifetime.

"I be free and I go where I do be needed." Nattie eyed Aurora warily, "And ya be needin' me. Whether ya be knowin' it or not."

The Crone said not a word as she made her sure-footed way toward the silent Dawn. She looked the woman up and down, and croaked. "The Dawn has come." Relena stared down at the old woman and smiled sweetly.

"The Dawn has always been here."

"No." Crone grabbed the girl's arm in a surprisingly strong grasp. "The true Dawn has come. Believe, young one." The Panther snarled as he moved forward, his eyes never leaving the forms of the Crone and Dawn. However, his worry was unneeded for Crone had already released Relena as soon as she'd finished speaking. His approach did cause the four horses to shift nervously though, their eyes rolling as they watched him.

"It's all right." Relena told Heero, as she forced her somewhat shocked expression to fade. "Dorothy, who are these people?"

Duo entered the clearing as Dorothy answered, "This is Nattie and that is Crone. Nattie, convince her to leave for safety."

The scarred fighter's eyes narrowed as she met Crone's beady gaze and slowly nodded. "Nothin' I do say would sway her. She be set to travel with the Dawn here."

"She cannot." Heero stated his voice rough enough to pull their attention toward him. He glowered at the hunched figure of the crone.

"It matters now what any of you think." Duo startled the group as he mounted his stallion, wrapping the reins around his hands. "The fighting is getting closer to the woods and we must leave or else they will come straight toward us." From the brush, Solo and Une appeared both quickly climbing into their saddles. The elves' unnatural grace showed in the way the three handled their animals and, for the first time, Relena noticed how at home Dorothy appeared on horseback. "Which means we must go now. I will gather my people to your cause, Dawn." Duo shouted, "We shall meet in your lands when the gods deem it! The gods protect you!" He snatched Dorothy's reins when she hesitated and forced her mare into a gallop alongside his, leaving Relena and the Panther to watch them leave.

Relena blinked in surprise when Nattie began to run after the four, keeping an easy pace behind the horses... The Dawn stood there, watching them disappear into the woods, till she could see them no longer. She turned to face Heero who watched Crone with distrust.

"Come." He turned and began to lope through the forest and with a quick glance toward Crone, Relena was forced to follow. She had too many questions rolling inside her head, but for now only one thing was important, and that was getting to the Dawn lands in one piece...

       *

Sally's mind reeled at the feeling of sickness and death surrounding the small figure lying before her. The little boy looked so innocent, his clothes and skin wet with sweat as he gasped for air, his eyes closed tightly in desperately needed sleep. She reached out and smoothed a lock of hair away from his pale face, trying to ignore the presence that hovered behind her. The Sadist Queen's concern and worry and fear were somewhat contagious and were making the healer nervous as she studied the young boy.

"Is it night?" She finally broke the silence, her hand lifting from his clammy skin.

"Yes. The glove... We've heard the legends. So it is true that its powers rely on the time of day. Night for male, day for female." A pause then, "Can... Can you help him?"

Sally glanced behind her, watching as the beautiful sadist clutched her dress, and slowly nodded. Hope and relief shone within the Queen's brown eyes and she looked away, tears sliding down her cheeks. Sally allowed her privacy as she placed her gloved hand upon the boy's forehead and frowned. She had never healed a male before and she wasn't sure...

Then suddenly there was a pull and her lips parted in a silent gasp as she felt power emanate from an outside force and wash through her, forcing its way through the glove and into the boy's flesh. The disease eating away at his young soul disappeared in a wave of white silvery fire and she found herself smiling. He had always been such a sick little boy... And perhaps he was lucky because of that. Instead of the horrors she'd witnessed within his mother, she found only an ironic innocent curiosity within him. He had never been allowed to truly see the world and participate in it.

She pulled her hand away and found herself staring into bright eyes. He smiled up at her, "Hello. Who are you?"

Sally blinked then smiled, "Just a healer. Just..." Her voice trailed off as she felt a sudden weakness pull at her bones and then she was falling... Her knees slamming into the floor with a jar as her hands clawed at the bed's silk sheets. The boy let out a surprised cry, but she barely heard him...

She felt so... Weak...

And Sally slipped into darkness.

      *

The moon was hiding behind clouds when Dorothy looked away from the crackling fire and toward the sky. She wasn't sure if that was a good or bad sign considering what the name of their enemy was. All she knew was that with the moon's radiance lost and the forest already blocking quite a few stars from sight, the only real light was the fire... Which meant, outside of their ring it was dark, a sort of twisting, silky darkness that danced around them and caused her to frown in disapproval. Her eyes continued to stare up at the moon even though she felt his eyes on her from across the fire. She didn't want to pay any attention to him or her other companions.

Nearly a week had passed since she'd left her closest friend and liege. A week of riding through the woods and when one was riding as quickly as they had been, conversation was hard to hold... Unless that person was riding along with you and only one person could do that. So, there'd been very little speaking during the day and at night, she usually set herself apart, wanting to be alone with her thoughts.

And they were very dark thoughts these days. Thoughts that flickered along the lines of betraying her Dawn, the very gods above, and the strange elf that now watched her through the flames. It wasn't that she wanted to betray them. It was just that she was so tired of being pushed around and used. Prophecy had stated her as a Dawn warrior and prophecy had stated her as the one to free the slaves in Ransik. Prophecy had pulled and twisted her life since her very birth, pushing her down the path that would lead her here... To this very campsite with this strange group... Perhaps not that strange anymore. An elf king, two elf courtiers, a former slave warrior-woman, and a bonded sorceress... Oh, and she couldn't leave out the damned dagger that kept her constant company... Oh, not strange at all.

Dorothy snorted, her eyes moving to the flames of their fire, ignoring the violet gaze that sought hers. They had held one serious conversation this week... When she had finally settled down and explained about Trant's execution and what exactly had taken place during his 'trial'. It had sounded so unnatural when put into words...

But he deserved to hear what she'd learned from Marie, the witch that had years ago cursed Trant and prophesized the slaves' freedom. Dorothy's frown faded into something softer as she remembered the woman's thoughts in her mind... Marie had been borne with the talent of Fire and had learned a bit of Air by the time she'd been captured by Trant and his men. As most are wont to be when Fire is their main source, Marie had held a fierce temper and was furious at her capture, even more so when it was revealed that she had been shot with a poison-tipped arrow. Death had been inescapable, leaving revenge her only option. She had cursed him with her very last breath and upon her death...

Her magick, and thus her soul, had soaked into the land of the city during the casting of her last and final spell. Unable to leave the town, Marie had been forced to watch the goings and doings of the slave trade for years. And her once bitter desire for revenge began to change and evolve into a fierce desire to help the slaves. Then pity had come... Years of quiet contemplation and being forced to stay in a place of such sorrow and humiliation can change a person... And Marie had changed.

So, when Dorothy had finally arrived she had no longer sought her harsh revenge, but merely freedom for the slaves. Using Dorothy as a temporary host for her spirit, she had been allowed her brief conversation with Trant... Allowing herself the peace of seeing her curse through, which allowed her magick to disperse from the area and freed Marie from the bonds holding her. In the end, she had left... Left the choice in Dorothy's hands, left the slaves with their freedom, left to go wherever it was the dead travel to...

The Elysian King hadn't particularly liked the story when it was explained to him and neither really liked mentioning Trant... Dorothy hated to sleep at night... She didn't regret killing him, not really. She had been entirely honest when she told Trant he meant nothing to her. He was dead and she didn't care at all for that... No, what bothered her was the way Duo had acted and looked in those moments. How maniacal and angry and hate-driven the elf had been...And how she felt as if she had betrayed him in some sense by stabbing the blood dagger into Trant's back.

Which was utterly ridiculous when one actually thought about it. Why should she feel guilty? After all, the damn elf had done nothing but annoy her since day one. He was rude and uncouth. He joked and laughed far too much. He chased nearly anything that wore a skirt... Well, that one wasn't entirely true. Yes, his eyes had wandered quite a bit when they'd stayed in that dreadful inn back in Ransik, but she had never once seen him try anything with Une or Nattie... Or herself for that matter and she knew she was beautiful.

Dorothy blinked, when had her thoughts gone so desperately off-track? She had been thinking about how she didn't want to be anyone's little doll anymore and now a tiny voice was quietly wondering why Duo hadn't tried anything with her.

Of course, the little voice and its idiotic notions were not a direct side effect from trying to ignore the elf's gaze.

Not at all.

She hissed and Nattie looked up from where she was carving away at a piece of wood she'd picked up around the second or third day of traveling. "That do be a pretty sound, but I be doubtin' it be the one sweetheart here be wishin' to hear." The scarred woman ignored the scathing glares sent her way by both parties and merely returned to her whittling as if she hadn't said a thing. Dorothy was beginning to regret ever having slowed her horse that first day of riding to allow the former slave to catch up... Ever since then Nattie had started to take it in her hands to play matchmaker. Dorothy did like the woman, she truly did, but she was very glad that her mare wasn't strong enough to carry two people for long intervals unlike Duo and Solo's stallions. From some of Duo's outbursts, she had a feeling that Nattie was constantly whispering things into his ear when they rode together.

"I don't give a damn what he wishes to hear." Dorothy finally had snapped. She was tired, hungry, angry, wary, and thoroughly not enjoying herself. A week ago, she had realized that her entire life had been brought about by higher powers... That every person she'd met, every word she'd said or listened to, everything had been put before her to lead her to these moments. She had been used as a puppet since birth... Then she was being forced to travel with three elves, one that she somehow both despised and liked, another that acted like her mother at times, and the last which remained a large mystery, and woman who though she was somewhat friends with seemed to have set it into her mind to make Dorothy's life a living hell...

 Oh, and don't forget the mage that was constantly prowling around her mind. A dangerous possessed bondling of a mage that wanted nothing more than for her to come to him and thus probably produce a very strong and powerful child that could destroy the world in infancy. And of course, there was the small problem of the dagger that she was also bonded to and couldn't get rid of without falling ill and eventually dying. The fact that it needed to be fed blood at least once every four days had become such a habit that she couldn't even consider it a real problem anymore.

Then there was that question of her heritage. The offspring of a human female and male elf... Who was her father? Why had her mother done such a traitorous thing as bed with a male elf?  A free male elf. Dorothy couldn't understand that at all. Her mother had been one to follow the rules very precisely, so why?

When one looked at it from that point of view, it was quite easy to see why the usually sarcastic, yet composed female had snapped so angrily at Nattie.

"Don't take your anger out on her, Dorothy." Duo spoke from the other side of the flames, one hand wrapped tightly around his braid as the other picked small twigs and leaves out of the length of hair. His eyes had left her as soon as Nattie had spoke, yet Dorothy could neither see nor hear any embarrassment from the elf. If anything he seemed angry.

"Don't tell me what to do." The sorceress hissed, one hand curling around the hilt of her dagger, its end already slammed into the ground before her. Her own long hair had been fixed into a braid like his, a fact she had disliked immensely, but it had been necessary. When she rode, her hair would blow into her eyes and mouth, and a braid was the easiest way to fix the problem. However, once they settled down for the night, she always quickly undid it, thus allowing it to drape around her like a second cloak.

"I wouldn't dare do that, milady." Duo mocked her, "The disappointment would be too great, I fear."

"Impertinent bastard."

"Secretive bitch."

From where he stood guard, Solo sighed and rolled his eyes upward as their voices carried to him. From the other side of the site, Une frowned in disapproval. Nattie chuckled softly as the two now were glaring at each other through the fire.

"Long ears, how far we be from yer lands?" Nattie broke the silence, her eyes never leaving the wood in her hands, as she questioned Solo. The elves had each dropped their illusions the second day of travel, not wanting to waste any of their magick on such trivial details.

"Another day or two." Solo answered, used to the scarred warrior's nicknames. After all, her name for him was much nicer than the one she used for Une, whom she had instantly disliked upon meeting.

"That be good. Those two be needin' warm beds and food or they be killin' each other soon." Her eyes twinkled mischievously, "Or perhaps needin' only one bed? Hmm?"

"Nattie!" Duo and Dorothy hissed in unison and the woman merely chuckled.

Duo shook his head, eyes flashing as he suddenly threw himself down, grabbing his cloak and pulling it over his body. "Good night." He grumbled, closing his eyes, ignoring the daggers Dorothy was glaring at his form.

         The sorceress released her grip on the blood dagger and stared into the fire. Ignoring Nattie's amused glances and Solo's slightly concerned gaze, she finally curled up on her side, the fire warming her body as she stared through its flickering flames and at the elf's back.

 "Dorothy..."

The call was a soft whisper, the yearning and desire echoing in the single word shocking her with their intensity. Her lips parted and she breathed out... Speaking his name in a breathy gasp that brought a jerk from the back she stared at.

"Quatre..."

Duo was on his feet and kneeling beside her before anyone else could move, his warm hands on her shoulders, as his violet eyes met hers. "Dorothy. Dorothy!"

 "Duo."

The hate in that word shattered the dreamlike haze that had begun to surround the sorceress and she jerked, her eyes locking with Duo's. "Mine. I'll kill him. Kill!" She fought to ignore the bard's ranting and pulled away from the elf, his hands falling from her shoulders.

"I'm fine." Dorothy murmured, looking away.

"No, you're not." The Elysian stubbornly responded and Dorothy smirked.

"So, you're an expert on when I'm fine and when I'm not now? The Mother be blessed, an elf, a King, and a mind reader!" The sarcasm in her voice bit and he winced slightly as she continued ruthlessly, "Hear me, your majesty, I have quite enough people inside my head as it is, so leave me be."

Nattie frowned as she watched the sorceress move away from the elf, delving deeper into the shadows surrounding them. Those two... She shook her head; she just didn't understand young people these days.

      *

Quatre's hands closed into tight fists, his earlier words of hate seeming to echo around him. His lips pulled back in a silent snarl, stretching the scar that cut across his face and creating a strangely beautiful and grotesque spectacle. That elf... That damn Elysian...

"Duo." He spat the word, feeling the magick within him tremble at the fierceness of his hate. But what was he to feel for the man that had stolen away Dorothy? Who kept her constantly out of reach? Who invaded her thoughts when it should be him! They were meant to be!

The bard struggled to calm his emotions, but lately he found that such an act rarely gifted him with success. Emotions so wild, so passionate in every aspect, were slowly showing him how, well, utterly wild he had become. However, such thoughts were quickly pushed aside when he thought of Dorothy, his Dorothy, with that damnable elf. In moments like this, moments after he'd just briefly allowed himself a glimpse into the sorceress's mind and seen her thoughts lingering around Duo, his rage was such that he felt that even Dorothy would not be safe near him.

But didn't she deserve some punishment?

That thought was so stunningly new, so horribly lovely... Didn't she? After all, she knew as well as he did that they were meant to be. He just knew she did! Yet, she allowed herself to travel farther and farther from him and with that Elysian. She was following of her own free will... Following that elf. Free will. Of course, she was being deluded in some manner. Allowing a darker aspect of her natural being to come to surface under that Elysian's guidance.

Perhaps... A lesson, just a small chastisement, would allow her to regain her true dignity. Suffering would teach her redemption. He would be helping her...

Right?

Of course. After all, he knew what was best for them...

      *

Three days and two nights. Two nights and three days. Not quite four, but more than three... Meaningless thoughts filled Hilde's mind as she paced before the cavern chamber that held the unconscious Healer. It was safer for the blood warrior to focus her attention on the time or other general thoughts instead of on the friend that slept, drained of her strange and wondrous power. Safer to think of how cold and damp it was instead of allowing rage and concern to overwhelm her and cause unknown numbers of death... A blood warrior's rage was not something she wished to evoke... Not even on these Sadists, after all they were caring for Sally and allowing them free passage. Hilde wasn't sure if they'd agreed to leave the dwarves be, but at this point she didn't particularly care if the two races wiped each other out.

She gritted her teeth, her pacing coming to a halt as her mind drifted over thoughts much more serious than the temperature. Her eyes narrowed, glaring at the dark gray stone wall before her.  What a shock it had been to wake last night... To awake after she was so sure that the Sadists would kill her as soon as she'd fallen during the fight. Every warrior was prepared to die and Hilde was no different from them in that aspect...

However, friends had never truly entered the picture she'd set firmly within her mind. The idea that friends, who were not taught to fight and kill, might be forced to face the same risks she was prepared for had never even vaguely reached her thoughts. The reality of it was harder to deal with than any fight or battle she'd faced or might face.

Sally was a healer, a healer with a great gift. With a single touch she could bring back one from almost death! Healers were not supposed to be in the front lines, were not supposed to be put in any danger. It was the healers that could save a warrior's life, they were not supposed to fight... Not like this...

One hand rose to cover her eyes as she leaned against the smooth limestone wall. 'How did I get myself into this mess? Too many times I've narrowly missed death... The Dawn's Court, helping Wufei and Sally escape the Moon, facing that sorcerer bard, the dwarves, and now the Sadists... How could a poor commoner, no matter what blood I hold, be so deeply entwined in such a fate? Friends with the most powerful Healer ever known, a male warrior that carries an enchanted blade, and the Dawn's Spy Mistress.' A bitter laugh escaped from her lips, as she moved her hand just enough to massage her temple.

"Nothing." The harsh male voice cut through her hazy, painful thoughts and she looked up to watch as Wufei walked out of the cavern chamber. He barely glanced in her direction, "No response. No sign that she realizes anyone is even there."

"The same then..." Hilde replied, though she doubted the former Moon soldier heard her. "Do you suppose her Majesty is right? That healing a male takes more out of her?"

His shoulders shifted, a twitch of stiff muscles, and the two stood in silence for a moment before Wufei glanced in her direction, jerking his head toward the room he'd just left. "I'll stay out here."

She nodded, grateful, as she left her post to approach the sleeping form of Sally. Without talking about it, both warriors had agreed to stand guard outside the Healer's quarters-one inside and one outside till she finally woke and the three could leave the Sadists for good. Rarely did Wufei leave her side this night and day and Hilde was glad for any chance she could grab to spend a few minutes with Sally... Even if the healer didn't realize she was there.

As she watched Sally's chest move up and down with each steady breath, Hilde felt a prickling of tears start to form. The Healer looked remarkably pale, yet her skin no longer held the feverish sheen that had clung the night before. Hilde smiled slightly, taking that as a good sign, and moved closer till she could pat Sally's arm gently.

"Good day, Sally... I bet you don't like this at all, trapped in bed, trapped within your own dreams... I hope they're good dreams, though..." Hilde slowly kneeled, sighing as she did. "I know you can't hear me... But, Mother, I wish you'd wake up, Sally... We've tried everything from Sadist magick to ordinary cold water. What happened to you? Is it like she said? Is this merely a side effect from healing a male and being unused to that," the blood warrior swallowed, "that power..."

Silence then Hilde closed her eyes, "Come on, Sally. I need you. Everything was happening so suddenly... The Court falling, the soldiers, the Captain, these new ideas of males and slavery and this god of theirs... The Father... Could it be true? I have this...feeling... Gambling everything I've ever known on a feeling." She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead on the bed Sally rested upon. "Am I fool to believe or a fool not to? A feeling leading me down a path that I don't think I'll ever be able to leave. And so much unknown."

"We don't know where the Dawn is nor Captain Noin, don't know where the Moon has finally stationed his men, don't even know what's happening outside at all! Are the people rebelling? Has the Dawn been captured? Did Captain Noin ever reach the Galaxy Court or was she killed? Has our entire home been destroyed while we wander through these tunnels and speak with dwarves and Sadists?"

"Always my life has been so simple. I've prepared myself to fight and to follow orders. But now, no one is here to give the orders... Every action I take is my own... And there is so much to be confused and unsure about. What if I destroy everything because of a feeling? What then?"

"Then you rebuild..." The voice was soft and wispy, but there was a layer of strength beneath the words, and with an expression that was more painful grimace than smile, Sally turned to face the blood warrior.

      *

Efficiently, callused fingers moved deftly, gathering dry grass and twigs. Two dull gray stones, one slightly darker than the other, appeared and were struck together sharply. A few tries finally created a spark of light that caught on a piece of bark. Soft blows created the oxygen needed for the spark to grow, enhancing till those deceptively delicate hands were forced to feed the growing flames more fuel. Soon, a fire cheerfully crackled before Midii's gray eyes.

She moved away, leaning against the sturdy trunk of a tall evergreen, watching the flames lick hungrily at the wood and grass around it. One kick with her boot, so close to those hungry, hungry tongues of fire, would knock enough sparks onto the nearby ground that perhaps the trees would soon catch afire... Then more and more... Until the forest was lit orange and red, a beacon to any; a beacon to carry them to an ash-strewn ground, where her bones lied-burnt black from the intense heat... Perhaps she'd become ash herself...

The thought was tempting, yet she wasn't the only one within these dense woods. She would have no more deaths on her head, if she could help it. Which she could... In her years of servitude to the Dawn, she had saved many lives. She had stopped wars and battles, revolutions, massacres before they'd even started through her espionage. Yes, sometimes one life had to be sacrificed, but it was worth it to save thousands.

Yet, now... What job lay ahead of her? To find the Reborn Dawn? How many days had passed since this mess had begun? Slowly, she counted them off-shocking herself with the realization. Nearly two months... Weeks of traveling through these damnable woods, finding the blood warrior, living among the dwarves, chasing Galea... So many days passed in thought, treacherous thoughts of a past long forgotten, of a woman that had seemed more girl than Queen last she'd seen her, of a long tradition of slavery... All of it adding into days and weeks and then a month... She supposed, if she were correct in her timing-after all, any amount of time spent in the caverns could have warped her assumptions-that in a week and three days, it would be exactly two months.

Two months under the reign of the Moon.

All this time she'd been wandering, searching, running, but what of her homeland? What of the people? What had happened to the Dawn lands? Did anyone live? Surely, they did... But...

 Mrow.

Midii's pondering was brought to a halt, as the reason for her newest excursion through the forest let its presence be felt. Gray eyes narrowed, searching the darkness around her. She had moved far enough from the fire to allow her eyes to develop a bit of night vision, however it was hardly needed as it was easy to pick the catriffin's position. Glowing, mischievous eyes twinkled down at her from a branch too high to reach with her height and Midii raised an eyebrow.

"What do you want, imp?"

Imp, eh? If I'm an imp, what, pray tell, are you? I wonder why you still follow, wounded one. Perhaps, you have no other idea of what to do... Has this chase given you a reason to continue? A reason to awake everymorning? Pity you cannot understand me. I do think you'd be nearly as amusing as dear man-cat.

"I have the feeling you mock me." Midii looked toward the fire, "Perhaps you have reason to. Following a winged cat for days just for a ribbon... Perhaps, I have lost it."

That's right. Talk.

"If I have, it would be only acceptable. Numerous times Noin hinted of my insanity... Though if I were to be truly honest, I would say she was not far behind. I suppose that is what happens when one is forced to delve so closely near power. Even the Lady Catalonia could not escape that, though it was obvious to any that her loyalties lied first and always to the Dawn and Mother..."

There was a pause, as Midii tilted her head, her forehead furrowed as her eyebrows drew together in a thoughtful frown. "Except... That is strange, little imp... Why didn't I ever notice?" A graceful arch brought the Spy Mistress to her feet as she continued to gaze at the fire. "Lady Catalonia's loyalty lied to the Dawn... She never... I can never truly remember-." The spy's line of thought was broken by a audible snap and the woman spun around, one foot quickly kicking dirt and mulch over the cheerful fire, even as she slipped into the darkness...

The fire didn't die so easily, though its light was now more a pinprick than the jolly beacon it had once been. From her position, Midii cursed her own foolishness as silence now greeted her ears and darkness grew as the embers slowly died. Her eyes blinked in the night, searching only to be met with blackness... So, she did what any well-trained spy would do.

Midii closed her eyes, relying on other senses, as she silently and patiently waited for any movement... Or a feeling, for every spy was taught that the best warning, the truest way of succeeding in a mission, was to rely on one's basic instinct-to feel the air around them, to strike when it felt right. Being who she was, Midii had learned that lesson better than anyone she knew.

Without a sound, a dagger slid into her right hand, and she spun-the blade raising then diving downward, catching on fabric before a rip tore through the silence. The figure jumped back again, out of range of her deadly weapon and Midii moved forward, eyes still squeezed shut. In her mind, she could almost see a black, shadow-edged figure dart to her left.

Air, so soft and quiet, announced the intention of a blow to the Spy Mistress's well-trained ears, and she ducked, stabbing forward. The dagger slid neatly into fabric and flesh, but no sound came from the figure. She admired their resistance to pain, their focus, as the blade was pulled back just in time to allow her to roll backwards, as a hand came down. The blow grazed her shoulder, no matter her speed, and the strength behind that slight graze shocked the spy. The figure was powerful...

She stayed near the ground, crouching easily, waiting for that feeling that told her the figure was near... When sharp claws dug into her right arm, ripping into pale skin and allowing sticky warm blood to spill forth. The Spy Mistress's eyes opened, even as she merely transferred the dagger to her left hand. Clinging to her arm, letting out loud angry yowls, Galea glared up at her furiously.

Stupid, idiot human! Look! See what is before you! Patience be willing, you foolish creature!

Midii tried to shake the animal off, her eyes scanning the area around her, realizing that night vision had been granted when she'd continued to keep them closed. However, all she could see were shadow-enshrouded trees and undergrowth. Nothing moved other than herself and she remained where she was.

The catriffin continued to cling stubbornly, refusing to relinquish its hold, even as it gave away her position with its continuous sounds. Midii cursed softly, then fell forward, rolling on her side, her back aching from a two foot kick. She jumped to her feet, facing the figure that gracefully swung its form off a tree branch, flipping in midair to land a mere foot from her.

Male.

The figure was male.

Midii's eyes narrowed, forcing herself not to glance around for the female she'd heard earlier. Somewhere around her, a female watched and perhaps even waited for a moment to attack... Yet, there was a larger problem that bothered Midii more than some unseen assailant. The male could move as quietly and gracefully as any spy...

Did he work for the Moon? Had Galea brought her out here only to betray her?

The Spy Mistress turned her eyes briefly to the catriffin that was attached to her right arm and frowned, "What have you done?" The question ceased the animal's cries and it looked up at her, eyes glittering with strange, unearthly intelligence. Midii had the feeling the beast was trying to communicate, but its language was unknown to her...

And the connection was forced to break when a sharp kick threw Midii to the ground, narrowly escaping the attack as she rolled toward trees and overgrowth, seeking a hiding place. Surprisingly, Galea now remained silent even though her claws still stabbed into the spy's flesh. Cautiously watching the male, as she edged toward the bush Midii heard the sound.

It was faint, just a slight rustling of fabric against bark... A slight scuff, nothing more, but to her trained ears it was all she needed. With the stealth of night, she crouched, waiting... Waiting... He was close now, wary, but close... And she sprung, using his own height to push her high into the air by lightly jumping onto his shoulders and flipping off.

She landed easily a few feet away, half her body within the dark growth of a hedge, her left hand gripping the hilt of a knife that was calmly and gently placed against the convulsing throat of a young woman. Midii smiled, a baring of teeth, and called out; "I would advice no sudden movements. This is such a pretty little throat, we wouldn't want to stain or scar it, now would we?"

There was silence behind her, but she could sense his presence standing very still a mere foot behind her. The three humans stayed that way, the darkness shrouding them, allowing only hazy glimpses of each other, till Galea suddenly leapt off Midii, landing gracefully near the male. Midii's eyes narrowed, even as the blade she held didn't falter...

A warm rumbling sound began to fill the air and one blonde eyebrow rose, as the Spy Mistress listened to the catriffin purr. It was a comforting sound, deep and solemn and peaceful...

It took her awhile to realize that, as Galea became louder and louder, a warm glow was forming. It came from the creature's body, an aura of light that grew with each rumble, until all three humans seemed to be wrapped in light...

Light that allowed them to truly see each other for the first time that night.

Midii's eyes widened in horror, as they took in the woman before her. Auburn curls, matted and dirty, framed a pale face, a mature, yet strangely innocent face with sweet, curving lips. The woman was pretty and curvy; she held an air of aristocracy and also one of vulnerability. Eyes, too old for someone so young, were full of shadows... Yet, it all belonged... All so familiar.

"Cathie..." The name was whispered, low and mournful and disbelieving. The Spy Mistress's face was deathly white, the blood rushing from her face as if she'd seen a ghost and tears pricked her eyes. Yet, there was a sorrowful happiness in the one word, a freedom in the use of it...

The other woman, suddenly unaware of the blade held against her throat, did not feel the same way. Her features twisted into a snarl, "Midii." The word was deadly venom, spat forth with disgust and distaste. With one word, Catherine forced the Spy Mistress to flinch, dagger falling as she struggled to gather herself and run from this vision of her youth...

Yet, behind her was only a tan male with eyes the color of emerald and a catriffin. Neither which offered her resistance or help in escaping... They made no move toward her, but their gazes held the woman locked as she kneeled in the earth.

Midii stared upward at the man, her body frozen yet trembling with shock and horror and a feeling of hopeless despair. She felt as if she'd been left alone in a desert and suddenly saved, only to be placed within a glacial wasteland. The emotions that raged within her had no names, just an utter bleakness... That grew as slow, deadly recognition appeared within her eyes. Recognition that came only from a month of being forced to face this past, only from facing dear Cathie again...

And as she stared up into the face of Trowa Barton, his visible emerald eye suddenly widened... His face seemed to turn ashen gray and he teetered slightly, as if his legs wouldn't be able to hold him much longer. A strong, callused hand raised, but never quite reached his head.

"You."

"You..."

      *