Magdar's purple eyes gleamed in the darkness of the chamber, lit only with candles and a few torches along the stone wall.  His eyes were on the figure near the glassless window, looking out on the misty mountains in the distance.

       "What news?"  The figure asked in a steely cold voice, turning to face her guardian, her silver-white hair seeming to glow in the darkness.  Her stormy-gray eyes, slightly tiltled up at the edges, found his in the darkness, resolve evident.  No matter the news, he knew, she had made her choice.

       "Majesty," He bowed his head slightly, his cloak hood slipping from his thinning head, "Intelligence has Darnog gathering his forces on the North Pass."

       Her eyes flickered towards the mountains once more, seemingly beautiful and innocent, but as of that moment, cloaking a deadly and dangerous enemy.

       "And my peace offering?"

       "His terms are as stands...my Liege, if I may..."

       "His terms are unacceptable."

       Magdar sighed in frustration, and she looked towards him, seemingly amused, "Speak freely, my friend.  I know you wish to voice your mind."

       He nodded curtly, straightening, "Darnog is a powerful force, Aislinn.  It is a fool's game to attempt to fight."

       "You suggest the House of Luka bow down to him then?  Allow him to pollute my kingdom with his influence?"

       "No, Aislinn," Magdar shook his head, "That is not what I suggest."

       "What do you suggest then?"  Candlelight flickered off the silver band running across her forehead, disappearing into her thick hair, past a pair of slightly pointed ears.

       "I have consulted the great books," Magdar informed her as she turned from him once more to look at the mountains, and he hesitated slightly, as if wondering if he should inform her of what he had found.

       "And?" She prodded impatiently as her General entered.

       Magdar looked towards the grizzled man, knowing he was a fine warrior who had weathered and won many wars.  The look in his eyes was not promising.

       "My Queen...I beg of you..."

       "I will follow beside you, General Lokarn.  As always," She interrupted, already knowing the argument, and Lokarn shook his head, looking towards Magdar for help, but the old man could only shrug.  He had no control over their ruler.

       "The books, Magdar, what of the books?" Aislinn reminded him in irritation.

       "It speaks of one from another place, far from here...one who will be skilled in the ways of battle and the dark ones.  And he will lead our armies to victory."

       Aislinn turned to face the old man, a thoughtful look on her elvin face, her slightly pointed chin wrinkling in concentration.  Lorkan took a moment to look over his Queen, reveling in her beauty, which men would easily fall to their knees and worship.  Or follow to their deaths, which they had done many times.

       "Find him...bring him here," She instructed.  "In the meantime, General, I want the crux of our forces at the North Pass, the rest protecting the outer villages..."

       "But the castle..."

       "Will not be protected above my people, Lorkan.  They are to come first before my...dresses..." She said the word with a slight tone of disgust, then straightened, "Bid my page to bring my armour and sword.  Have my horse ready, General.  I will be beside you and my army."

       General Lorkan bowed, "Yes, my Queen," he quickly exited as Magdar looked towards Aislinn.

       "A fool's game," He reminded her.

       She smiled almost sadly, "War always is, my friend."

       Spike groaned as the demon slammed a meaty fist into his gut, trying to pull his arms free from the other one pinning them to his side from behind.

       He had been ambushed in the graveyard, and as was wont to happen nowadays, he was getting the shit beat out of him for helping the Slayer.

       It wasn't that he wanted too, except that blood, booze and cigarrettes cost money, and since he had gotten the chip in his head, he was unable to kill to at least get a pack of smokes.  So, now, he was dependent on the Watcher's money, and the Slayer's protection from the bastards who sought out 'Spike the Traitor.'

       Spike spat out a mouthful of blood, glaring at the demon assaulting him, "Listen, mate...it's not like I like helpin' the Slayer...but the facts are..."

       WHAM!

       Spike's head flew back with the impact of the demon's punch, and he swore he could hear marbles rattling around in his brain like some kind of vampire version of a cartoon character.  "Ow..."

       "You're a turncoat, Spike.  Worse then Angelus!"  The demon hissed, and Spike glared at the mention of his Sire.

       "Fuck you!"

       The demon punched him again, and Spike groaned again, his head drooping.  He really hated Markana demons.  They were dirty cheats that fought dirty.  Well, he fought dirty too...but it really sucked being on the recieving end of a dirty fighter.

       The Markana holding him suddenly tensed, then started to scream in agony, letting go of the vampire, and Spike fell to the ground, feeling like he was going to heave, but reminded himself that was a biological impossibility.

       I sound like Spock when I have a concussion...he observed dazedly, lifting his head as the other Markana screamed in pain, frowning as he watched him start to melt into a large, foul-smelling puddle.

       Just before he passed out, he caught sight of a hooded figure shuffling towards him, and two purple, glowing eyes peeking out from beneath his cloak.

       Magdar watched worriedly as the remnants of the army limped back towards the castle, his eyes desperately seeking out his Queen. He turned when the door flew open and gasped as Lorkan carried an unconcious Aislinn in his arms.

       Her face was smudged with dirt and blood, and her armour and clothes were ragged and tarnished from battle. She smelled of blood, death and smoke, and he could see an arrow portuding from her shoulder.

       "I did not want to remove it without your healing abilities, Magdar," Lorkan said in explanation, "And I wouldn't let those battlefield butchers near her."

       Magdar nodded in approval and gestured towards the bed and Lorkan went to set her down on it, then froze, his eyes narrowing slightly, "Who is that?"

       "Hopefully, the Chosen One," Magdar said, looking at the white-blond vampire, his clothes strange to their world, but his hair almost similiar to their injured Queen's.

       Lorkan looked over the vampire doubtfully, reaching out to finger his leather duster, "Fine quality," He said aloud, then touched his red shirt, "Silk...he must be a lord."

       "In...a way," Magdar sat beside Aislinn, calling for a servant to bring hot water and rags.

       He gently eased his Queen to a sitting position, and her eyes shot open as he broke the arrow in half, then shoved it all the way through her body, making her body arch as she gasped in pain, her eyes squeezing shut.  She bit her lip to keep from screaming, teeth bursting through the skin of her lips and blood ran down her face to combine with the filth of battle.

       "Gods!"  She hissed as Magdar bound her shoulder, looking towards Lorkan, "How did we fare?"

       "Not well, my Lady," Lorkan ducked his head, "We're down to a quarter of our army...and Darnog's gained the northren sector of our kingdom."

       "Damn it!"  She pushed Magdar away, standing with a clink of armour, "I need to go back!"

       "There's nothing to go back too...we retreated..."

       "You what?!"  She nearly screamed at him, "Who gave you the order to retreat?!"

       "No one.  But to stay would've meant our deaths!"

       "So be it!  My blood matters not when my father's kingdom is in danger!"

       "Ow...fucking 'ell..."

       Aislinn tensed when she heard the voice and whirled, sword jumping into her hand as she brought it against Spike's throat as he sat up.

       Spike's eyes widened as he looked down at the blade, stained with drying blood, slowly following the metal up to the small, pale hand holding it, then over the chestplate bearing the crest of the House of Luka, then up to the elf-like features of Aislinn.

       "Musta hit my head harder then I thought," He muttered beneath his breath as Magdar touched Aislinn's shoulder.

       "He is the one."

       "He?"  She eyed Spike doubtfully, "You must be mistaken...he is no warrior."

       Spike's eyes narrowed, and in one swift moment, he dodged the blade, spinning behind Aislinn to aim a kick at Lorkan's chest and whirled Aislinn in front of him, knife pressed against her throat.

       Lorkan's eyes narrowed as he started to draw his sword, but Magdar held up his hands, "We are friends here, my Lord.  She meant no harm..."

       Aislinn let out a sharp gasp as the knife pressed against her throat, drawing a bit of blood. "Someone better explain what's goin' on, or Lucky here gets it!"  Spike growled at Magdar, "And tell the bull-dozer to take a step back before I slit her throat!"

       Lorkan obeyed at Magdar's nod, his hand still on the hilt of his sword.  It would be ironic to lose his queen to a stranger supposedly there to help them after she had just survived a vicious battle with their deadliest enemies.

       "My Lord, you are in the kingdom of Tiran-lee," Magdar said in a concilatory tone, "We have called on you to help us against the forces of Darnog...a most evil ruler of the Kingdom of Korah.  He wishes to make a conquest of Tiran-Lee...among other things..." He looked pointedly at Aislinn, and she growled in anger.

       "Let me go, you little..." Her words were cut off with a sharp hiss when the tip of his blade pressed farther into her pale throat.

       "Listen, darlin', you're not the one in charge here," Spike said, his eyes on Magdar.

       Magdar chuckled, "Actually, My Lord...that is Queen Aislinn of the House of Luka you are currently holding."

       "Good," Spike said, unpertubered, "Then I'm sure to get some bloody answers.  What the hell am I doing here?"

       "You are spoken of in prophecy, my Lord," Magdar told him, "You are to save Tiran-Lee and the other kingdoms from destruction."

       "Me?"  Spike arched an eyebrow, "You must've mistranslated something, mate, cause there's no way I'm saving anything.  Send me back!"

       "That...is impossible.  You must wait for the stars to be right, once more."

       "And when's that?"

       "One moon," Magdar answered, and Spike glared at him.

       "I'm stuck here for a month?!"

       "Once the new moon comes again, we can send you back to the exact moment you left..."

       Spike cocked his head slightly, "Considering I was gettin' the shit kicked out of me, any chance of goin' back about ten minutes earlier?"

       "Not without risk of changing time," Magdar answered, "For you will still be in that time..."

       Aislinn, meantime, had gotten tired of all their talk, and stomped her booted heel down on Spike's foot and the vampire yelped, loosening his grip a bit, "Bloody hell!"

       She moved out of his grasp and Lorkan was on him in a moment, sword drawn.

       "No, General!"  Aislinn snapped at him, glaring at Spike, "We do not need his help, but I will not shed his blood in my home."  She glanced at Magdar, scowling, "Keep him out of my sight till he is gone!  And call the other kingdoms to a meeting!  Darnog must be stopped before I lose more ground and lives to him!"

       With that said, she whirled and swept majestically from the room with a clink of armour and a swirl of her silver cape, and Spike scowled after her, "Bossy chit, ain't she?"

       Magdar sighed in disappointment, "I will show you your chambers, my Lord, then you may clean yourself up for supper."

       Spike glanced at him, "About that..."

       "I know of your unique tastes, my Lord," Magdar bowed slightly, "The baths are located in the lower half of the castle...Lorkan will escort you there."

       Spike growled shortly as Magdar gestured for him to follow, "And I'm missin' Passions, you know!  That just really pisses me off!"

       Lorkan eyed Spike with thinly disguised loathing as he led the vampire down to the baths, "You should be killed for threatening the Queen," He said angrily, "You are lucky she is a beautiful, kind woman."

       Spike snorted, "In my experience, mate, there's no such thing."

       "How many women do you know would go against tradition and common decency to fight a losing battle every day, risking her life against a foe we will never beat?"

       "Met a couple.  Killed them."

       Lorkan paused outside the door to the baths, his eyes narrowed, "If we lose, she will be the spoils of war, mate," He said, using Spike's endearment snidely, "Darnog will take her for his, and our kingdom will be finished.  The House of Luka will fall, and we will be under the power of the black one.  I will die first before I allow that to happen!"

       Spike eyed him cooly, "And I'm supposed to care?  I got enough problems in my own world without worryin' about you people.  I really just don't give a shit."

       Lornak shook his head, "She should have let me kill you," He muttered beneath his breath, leaving Spike to his own devices as he stalked off to have a word with Magdar concerning the vampire.

       Spike snorted again, shaking his head as he pushed open the heavy wooden door.

       Immediately, he was hit with the scent of steam, perfumes and burning candles as he went in, and he rolled his eyes.  "No indoor plumbing...perfect...great..." He muttered beneath his breath.  "Had to go back in time to the bleedin' Middle Ages."

       He heard a sound, and he immediately tensed, his eyes narrowing, almost expecting Lornak to appear out of the thick steam and try to make good on his threat.

       He moved cautiously farther into the room, then relaxed, catching the faint scent of blood and sweat, not an altogether unpleasant smell, with the underlaying essence of a female.

       He moved into the room, and against the far wall, saw a large, wooden tub filled to the brim with steaming water, and in it, Aislinn was leaning against the side, all but her head submerged in the soapy water.  

       Her eyes were closed, and she appeared to be sleeping, and Spike smirked as he stripped, and her head shot up when she heard him slip into the water.

       "Looked lonely, pet," He said with a light leer as she stared at him with shock, confusion and outrage, the emotions apparently warring with her.  He would bet a week's worth of blood that no one had treated her like that before.  She seemed like the epitome of a spoiled, palace brat.

       She quickly composed herself, subtly ducking a little bit more underneath the water as she glared at him, "That is a hanging offence, Lord..." She frowned, "What is your name?"

       Spike leaned back against the side, enjoying the feel of the warm water caressing his cool skin, and also the proximity of the beautiful woman across from him.  He was glad she couldn't see his reaction to her beneath the water, or he'd really be hanging.

       "Spike," He answered her, and she raised a white eyebrow, her gray eyes evaluating him almost coldly.

       "Spike," She repeated, "Such a strange name.  Where did you acquire it?"

       "Don't suppose you have trains here, do you?"

       She frowned in confusion, then shook her head, "I have never heard...of a train."

       Spike sighed, shaking his head, "Let's just say me...big, pointy metal sticks, all right?  Poked them through a couple people...got me that cool nickname."

       Aislinn frowned again, this time in disapproval, "And you're the Chosen One?"

       "Can we not call me that?  Bad, irritating memories," Spike replied, scowling.

       "Well, then, Lord Spike...would you mind leaving?  I am a bit busy at the moment."

       "Don't let me stop you," He gave her another leer, and her eyes narrowed as she leaned forward.

       He suddenly yelped as something pressed against his crotch, and his hand shot below the water, grasping her wrist with a gasp, "Please tell me that's a sponge," He said in a slightly high-pitched voice, "Or you're one freaky bird to be bringing weaponry into the bath."

       She pressed her dagger more firmly against him, causing the vampire to wriggle uncomfortably, "I am always in danger of assassination, Lord Spike.  A girl cannot be too cautious."

       "Could we please remove the extremely sharp knife from my bits and pieces?"

       "The only male allowed in the bath rooms with the Queen is a eunuch, my Lord.  I think it is fit if we remedy that misunderstanding."

       Spike twisted her wrist, grinding the bones together and making her drop the dagger beneath the water as he jerked her towards him, ducking her face beneath the water and holding her.

       She struggled, trying to push against his superior strength, and Spike kept a firm grasp on her hair as he pulled her back up, sputtering and glaring at him in fury.  "Now, that's no way to play nice," He chided her, and she shot her free hand out, punching him in the crotch and Spike howled, letting go of her.

       She darted out of the water and grabbed a robe from a peg on the wall, wrapping it firmly around her body as she yelled for the guards.

       Spike's head shot up as he was hauled out of the water by several large, smelly men, and he struggled against them as he was dragged out of the room, and down to the dungeons far below the castle.

       Nude as the day he was born, he was thrown into a cell with dirty, foul-smelling straw, and he looked up as the door slammed shut.

       "Well...she's a bit touchy..."

       "I cannot believe you did this!"  Magdar glared at Aislinn as she sighed, following him down into the dungeons.

       "He is not who you think he is, my friend. He is a murderer...and he's crude...and he broke into my bathing room!"

       Magdar sighed, "He is from a different world from us, my Queen.  Mayhap it is custom to do so in his world."

       "I highly doubt he tries to bathe with the Queen of his world," She said in a huff, "And he has only been here a few hours..."

       "A few hours where we lose more of his confidence!  We need him to fulfill the prophecy, Aislinn!  You must swallow your prodigious pride and apologize to him."

       "Me?!"  She squeaked, pausing, "He...he is the one..."

       "Aislinn..." Magdar gave her a look, "For the sake of your kingdom...grow up."

       She glared at him as a guard opened up the door to the cell Spike was being kept in, then averted her eyes, blushing furiously when she saw he was still nude.

       Spike glared at her, stalking towards the pair, "About bloody time!  I wasn't fancying spending the night in this rat-infested shit-hole."

       Aislinn wouldn't look at him, "I am sorry, Lord Spike," She said through clenched teeth, "I did not mean...to offend you."

       "Well, I'm very...very offended," Spike said in a huff as Magdar handed him a set of clothes and took a moment to pull on the hosing, jerkin and doublet, wondering where his duster was.  "And I expect you to make it up to me."

       She sighed, finally turning towards him once he was dressed, "And how my I do that, my Lord?"

       He smirked at her, looking her body up and down.  She was wearing a gray, silk dress that clung to her curves, and allowed the raise of her breasts to peek over the top.  Her thick, white hair was braided, and another silver band, interwoven with a thin string of gold, encircled her forehead, the gold string being farther braided into her hair.  A soft, gray cape trimmed with fur rested along her shoulders, and swept near her feet.

       Should be illegal to make royal bitches that beautiful, "Oh...I can think of a few things..."

       Aislinn flushed even further as her strange eyes narrowed, and was about to order for him to be kept in there, but Magdar gave her a look, moving to stand between the two of them, more for his protection then for hers.

       "Come, my Lord...we are to dine.  Will you join us?"

       "What?!  I do not want him at my..."

       "Aislinn..."

       "Magdar!"

       The old man leveled her with a glare, and she huffed as she whirled in a flurry of skirts and stalked out of the dungeon as Spike smirked smugly after her.  "Bitch."

       Dinner was made in complete silence, with just Magdar, Lorkan, Spike and Aislinn making up the table.

       Spike looked down at the food put down in front of him, then at the wine goblet a slightly ashen faced servant plopped down in front of him before hurrying away.

       Aislinn raised an eyebrow as he sniffed it, then eagerly guzzled it.  "Planning on getting drunk, then?"  She asked innocently, and he glanced at her, the blood leaving a thin moustache on his lips, and she shot a look at Magdar, who refused to meet her gaze.

       She let out a sound of disgust, standing up, "This is unacceptable!"  She snapped at her friend, "He is one of them, isn't he?"

       "He's a far different demon then those at the call of Dangor," Magdar assured her, "We do not have his kind in Tiran-Lee."

       Spike raised an eyebrow, "No vamps?  Want me to fix that for you?"

       "My kingdom has been clean of his kind for a long time, Magdar!  I have enough problems with the trolls trying to force their way into the kingdom, and now with Dangor..." She shook her head, "Whose playing a fool's game now?"

       "Hey, you know," Spike got to his feet, glaring at her, "I'm getting a bit tired of your whole attitude, your Majesty!  I didn't ask to come here, y'know!"

       "Good!  I didn't ask you to come either!"

       "Actually...you did, my Queen..." Lorkan broke in, and she glared at him.

       "I called for a warrior, General!  Not some yellow-bellied demon..."

       "Yellow-bellied?  Why, you spoiled...pompous...little palace twit!"

       She stepped towards him threateningly, and he chuckled, "Go ahead, little girl, give it your best shot!"

       She punched him in the face, and even though he was ready for the blow, he still fell back on his butt, clutching his nose.  "Good shot..." He muttered beneath his breath.

       She stepped towards him, ready to hit him again when someone came rushing in, "Dangor is at the gates!"

       She froze, paling, "Dangor?"

       The soldier nodded nervously, "He's alone, save his generals...he says he wishes to make a peace entreaty..."

       "It could be a trap," Lorkan warned her, and Aislinn nodded in agreement.

       "Undoubtedly.  Lorkan, Magdar, come with me.  We'll meet outside the gates.  There is no way I'm letting him into my home."

       The two men nodded, and the Queen disappeared for a few moments, coming back with a silver sword scabbard belted around her waist, and Spike glanced after them, then rolled his eyes, "Wait for me," He huffed, following.

       Aislinn turned in some surprise, "Now you're interested in helping us?"

       "I'm interested in bloodshed...and if he guts you, I want to be there for that," He said with a smirk.  Aislinn exchanged a look with Lorkan.

       "Give him a weapon," She instructed, and the general gaped at her,.

       "But, my Queen..."

       "I gave you an order, Lorkan," She said in a steely voice, and the general glowered at his feet as he snapped at the soldier to obey his Queen.

       The soldier handed over his sword to Spike, who strapped the heavy blade around his waist, and followed them outside.

       Dangor stood in a clearing just outside the castle, leaning against the side of his horse casually as he watched the four figures approach him.

       He was a large man, handsome in a brutal way.  He looked like the abusive boyfriend girls were always falling for back in Sunnydale, Spike noticed.  His hair was just as black as his eyes, and he saw the way he was watching Aislinn lustfully, and knew instantly that there was more to the war they were raging then just land.

       His generals consisted of several demons that Spike had never seen before.  They were huge with black, scaly skin, and six pairs of red eyes, a pair of them located in the palm of each hand.  Large, leathery wings lay folded against their backs, and he couldn't even begin to guess at the wing span, but had a hunch it was huge.

       Aislinn paused in front of Dangor, Lorkan and Magdar standing protectively at either side of her, while Spike stood behind, eyeing the strangers warily, while at the same time casing the clearing, sure there was going to be a catch.

       Bloody stupid...meeting him on non-neutral ground.

       "My dear Aislinn...you grow more radiant each day I see you," Dangor greeted her amiably, and she smiled charmingly.

       "And you grow even more disgusting, and when I think I cannot loathe you a bit more, you prove me wrong."

       Spike chuckled as Dangor scowled, glaring in his direction.  "And who is that, may I ask?"

       "Lord Spike," Magdar answered before Aislinn or Spike could, "He is a great warrior from afar."

       Dangor looked over the shorter man, his hulking frame two heads higher Spike's lean one, "He doesn't look like much."

       "You came with a peace offering, Dangor.  Let us hear it."

       "Same as before, my dear.  You in exchange for the safety of your people.  The towns that have already fallen to me are suffering for your...reluctance."

       "That's a little cliche, ain't it?"  Spike broke in, then mimicked Dangor's deep voice, "Marry me or I'll destroy you...bawahahaha...you people need a new script writer."

       "What is he babbling on about?"

       "Ignore him," Aislinn shot a scathing look at Spike before turning back to her mortal enemy, "And what part of 'no' are you not understanding?  It's fairly simple.  I will not, ever, ever give in to you.  And if Tiran-Lee falls, I will fling myself off the battlements before I allow myself to be taken by the likes of you."

       Dangor smirked at her, lowering his head slightly, "All right, my Queen...I did it nicely.  Next time we meet on the battlefield, you will die...after I'm finished with you."

       Aislinn lifted her chin proudly, "Then I will die...but I will bring you with me," She said confidently before turning and striding back towards her castle.

       Magdar and Lorkan followed her, but Spike remained where he was for the moment, his eyes narrowed, "I can't wait till she guts you like a pig," He said through clenched teeth, and Dangor smiled.

       "I know what you are, Lord Spike...a demon...one I haven't felt or seen before...you belong with us, truly.  Join with us...and you will find the awards...most lucrative."

       Spike scowled at him, "I can't be bought."

       "Everyone has a price, my friend," Dangor smirked in Aislinn's direction, "She will make a fine Queen, don't you agree?  Once I break that superior attitude out of her, that is."

       Spike raised an eyebrow, "You can't break a girl like that," Spike said as he started back towards the castle, "Believe me...I tried."

       When Spike finally made it back in the castle, the others were no where to be found, and he decided to do a little exploring.

       He followed labyrinth-like passages of stone and lit torches, sometimes stopping to peek in rooms, but couldn't find anything of real interest.  No gold, no silver...nothing of value...

       He took a guess where it had gone.  The only thing of value he had seen was the bands Aislinn wore about her forehead, which seemed odd.  He thought she would have been wearing some sort of crown.  Wars were expensive, and Tiran-Lee seemed like a small kingdom.  Undoubtedly, the valuables had gone to peddlars.

       He paused beside a window, reaching into his pocket and removing a pipe Magdar had given him.  He hadn't smoked one in a long time, and was really starting to wish the Marlboro Man was a dimensional traveler.

       He packed it with tobacco that smelled like cherry-wood, and lit it as he looked out on the waning night.  He saw something out of the corner of his eye, and turned a bit, watching as Aislinn detached herself from the shadows near one of the turret towers that marked each corner of her castle.

       Her hair was free, and blowing about her face as she wrapped her arms around herself, looking out on the night.  The wild, whiteness of her hair seemed contrasted with the velvet darkness, making her stand out more.

       His breath caught in his throat as she climbed up on the edge, Shit!  She's going to jump!

       Instead, she nimbly balanced along it, hopping from step to step as she walked along the battlement walls.  His eyes narrowed slightly as he stalked towards a door that led to the battlements to his left and went out.

       She lifted her head in surprise when she heard the door open, and quickly jumped down, turning her back to him without a word, but he had already seen the sheen of shed tears along her cheeks and hurried to catch up with her, "Hey, pet, wait up."

       She paused, her shoulders straightening as she slowly turned to face him, "May I help you, Lord Spike?"  She asked tensely, and he sighed.

       "Listen...we got off on the wrong foot an' all..."

       "You impugned my honor, sir.  If someone had come in, my reputation would have been ruined."

       "Yeah...right...well, can you blame me?  Haven't really been around women like you for a long time, so cut me some slack."

       "Are you telling me women on your world allow you to intrude on them when they are bathing?"  She asked shrewdly, lifting a white eyebrow, her silver band gleaming on her forehead.

       Cor...she really is beautiful...he shook his head at the thought, "No...not really...just wanted to get a rise out of you."

       "Very well...are you done?"  She turned her back to him, "I'd much prefer to be alone with my thoughts right now."

       Spike sighed deeply, "I'll do it."

       She looked over her shoulder, "Do it?"  

       "I'll fight...but...um...are you in the habit of...fighting at night?"

       "We try not too."

       "See...that's going to be a problem," Spike told her, "I'm a vampire...me...sun...we don't mix."

       "Is that all?"  She almost smiled, but her pink lips only trembled a bit.  Spike was almost disappointed.  He would have liked to see what she looked like when she smiled.  He had a feeling that wasn't something she did often.

       "I think it's kinda of a big problem."

       She removed a ring from her finger and handed it to him, "Magdar told me to give that to you."

       He looked down at the green jewel, his eyes widening, "Cor!  This is the Gem of Amara!"

       "It's the Gem of Arknak," She corrected, "He was a powerful sorcerer in my great-great-great grandfather's time.  Do you know what it does?"

       "Invincibility to the wearer...which means I can't be hurt by the sun..." He looked up at her, looking slightly conflicted, "Shouldn' you keep this?  I mean...you probably need it more then me..."

       "I'm not one to crave invincibility, Lord Spike," She answered softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her pointed ear, drawing Spike's attention to them.

       "Are you an elf?"

       She nodded, then amended her own response, "But I am an Elfling...still a child."

       "You...are a child?"

       She nodded, "I am two hundred years old...barely grown.  I am the last of my kind.  The last in the House of Luka."

       "What happened?"

       "Dangor happened...he wiped out the Elfin kind, Lord Spike...my father, three hundred years ago, angered him.  Tiran-Lee used to be a vast kingdom that reached to both Red Seas," She sighed softly, leaning her elbows against the battlements and looking towards the mountains, which was lit by the moon.

       "What did he do?"  Spike asked, lighting his pipe in the wind with some difficulty.  

       "He and my father were rivals for my mother," Aislinn answered, her eyes faraway, obviously not with him.  "My father won out...and that angered Dangor.  He vowed revenge.  I only live because Magdar banished him to the Mists...a sort of...purgatory, for over a hundred years.  He was released...and now, he set his obsession on me and my kingdom."

       "Sucks," Spike muttered, looking at her profile, noticing the hard lines seemed to have softened a bit, her eyes a little less cold and more dream-like.  Her long hair drifted in the breeze, and he shuddered slightly as it's softness brushed across his face.

       "Now Tiran-Lee is nothing but a memory of what once was," She said sadly, "Now, because of me...his darkness touches my land again..."

       Her tears appeared strange, almost a glowing, bluish sheen as they fell from her long, white lashes, dripping down her cheek.  Impulsively, Spike leaned forward and brushed them away with his fingertips, "You can't blame yourself, pet," He said when her wide, startled gray eyes shot towards him.  "It's obvious you're doin' all you can to protect yourself and Tiran-Lee."

       "But...if I would..."

       Spike shook his head, "Wouldn't matter...he'd do the same thing...at least you're putting up a resistance.  That's admirable...and what's more...it's what's right..."

       She closed her eyes, nodding slowly.  Spike hadn't removed his fingers from his face, and gently pressed his cool palm against her warm, perfectly smooth skin.  Her eyes opened as she looked up at him, and he started to lean towards her.

       Aislinn was up first thing in the morning and when she came out to the stable, saw Spike already there, waiting with her horse and one he had borrowed, a black one.  Fitting.

       The vampire didn't seem to notice her, his face lifted upwards towards the sky, a small smile on his face as the early morning light played across it.  

       She paused, taking a moment to observe him.  She couldn't help but admit he was quite handsome, and almost looked normal in his black leggins and jerkin, the doublet discarded in favor for the heavy leather duster he had been wearing before.  

       He seemed to become aware of her presence and dropped his eyes to look at her, "Thought you'd like some company."

       She shook her head, "I am well," She said almost uncomfortably, "I am only to visit my wounded."

       "Perfect," he mounted his horse, who snorted and stomped his feet, "I'm pretty good at the doctoring stuff myself.  I'm constantly getting wounded."

       "Why do I not find that surprising?"  Aislinn asked with a sigh, and mounted her horse easily, her dress foregone for green leggings, doublet and jerkin, as well as a cloak.

       She pulled the hood of the cloak over her head, then kneed her horse's side, "Ki!  Ki!"  

       Spike raised an eyebrow as she shot off, then looked down at the horse, kicking it's stomach.

       It promptly reared and tossed him off.

       Aislinn looked up as Spike rode into the camp half an hour after her.  Her clothes were already streaked with blood from attending to the wounded and dying.  

       She turned her attention back to her patient, trying to ignore the screams of pain from a tent behind her, where they were performing amputations.

       She closed her eyes, holding her hands out over the man's body, "Delictora nicus lini!  Goddess Heleth, I beseech you, bestow thy healing hands onto me..."

       Her hands began to glow a faint blue, and sweat popped up on her forehead as she continued to chant. "Delictora nicus lini!  Goddess Heleth, I beseech you, bestow thy healing hands onto me...touch this man and take his pain onto me..."

       Spike leapt from his horse as she suddenly screamed in agony, ripping herself away from the man, and Spike caught her before she could fall, gently laying her out on the ground, "Hey!  There's something wrong with her!"  He called, but he was ignored by one of the doctors, nicknamed 'Butchers' by the soldiers under their care.

       Lorkan suddenly appeared beside him as he glared at the soldier she had healed, then at Aislinn, "How many times must Magdar tell you?  Not till you're fully grown!"

       "He was dying," Aislinn coughed as she sat up, glaring at Lorkan, "And every life I save is worth the pain!"

       "Not if you die!"  Lorkan snapped at her, "No more!"  He suddenly looked sheepish when he remembered who he was ordering around, "My Queen...the fate of our kingdoms rest on your shoulders.  To lose you would only further demoralize the men."

       Aislinn coughed again, not answering him as she stood, and Lorkan looked exasperated, "Damn it, woman!  I will ban your from the damn camp if I must!"

       Aislinn sent him a glare, "You can do no such thing!"

       "Maybe not...but I can resign as your general...then who would you have to lead this pathetic rabble?!  Him?!"  He jabbed a finger in Spike's direction.  "I doubt the boy could barely lift a sword!"

       "Hey!"  Spike glared at him, "I can rip your throat out in a second, mate."

       "Try it!"

       "If you two boys are done," Aislinn stood up shakily, "I have work to do..."

       Spike and Lorkan exchanged a look, and Spike shrugged, "Hell...I have no allegiance to no bloody crown," He said, then punched Aislinn in the face and she dropped to the ground, unconscious.

       Lorkan raised an eyebrow, "You punched the Queen of Tiran-Lee..."

       "Yeah...so...?"

       Lorkan smiled slightly, "Thank you, my Lord."

       Spike raked a hand through his hair, leaving a blood streak in his white-blond locks.  Somehow, he had been recruited into helping on burial duty, and he grimaced at the smell the hot sun was making worse by heating up the dead, already rotting bodies.

       He finally set aside the shovel, looking up as a very pissed off Elfin Queen stalked towards him, "You had no damn right!"  She shouted at him, drawing the attention of the rest of the burial crew.

       Spike leaned against his shovel casually, raising an eyebrow, "So?  I'm a vampire...evil, soulless beings...we rarely care if we have the 'damn right' or not."

       Aislinn glared at him, arms crossing over her chest, her face flushed with anger, unable to think of what to say to his blunt honesty.  He didn't even seem to care that her chin was throbbing like a bitch.

       "You should not interefere with matters that do not concern you," She finally bit out, and Spike raised an eyebrow, "You know, darlin', General Stick-Crammed-Up-Arse over there has a point.  You die like that, what was the bleedin' point of fighting the battle?"

       "General what?"  A funny look came over her face, and Spike realized she was trying not to laugh.  He leaned towards her, whispering.

       "Ya know...it wouldn't kill ya to smile once in a while, you uptight biddy."

       "Bi--biddy?!"  Aislinn glared at him, "Why...you smug...pompous...arrogant..."

       "Forgot incredibly sexy," Spike purred at her, and her gray eyes widened before she threw her hands in the air and stalked away from him.

       Spike chuckled, then glanced at the other diggers, who were staring at him in awe, unable to believe that he had just spoken to the Queen as if they were equals, "Wot?  Get back to work!"

       He is the most infuriating man I have ever met!  Aislinn thought to herself as she dressed for bed in her tent, practically grinding her teeth together in agiatation.

       She sat down at a small vanity, and started to brush the tangles out of her hair, yanking them out brutally in her anger.  She paused, looking in the mirror at her reflection, then touched her pointed ears.  Gods...I must look so strange to him...

       She rolled her eyes and stood up abruptly, shaking her head.  She needed to get out more, really she did.

       She pulled on a shift and cloak before glancing out of her tent before making a sprint for the woods, unaware of the peroxide blond watching her with a raised eyebrow.

       Aislinn slipped through the trees easily.  Her people had once emerged from this very forest, to come into the world of the humans and other creatures of myth.  The forest was a thousand miles wide and another thousand long.  

       Creatures still dwelled deep within its recesses, unicorns, nymphs and such others hidden away, remaining isolated from the onslaught of a cruel and senseless world.

       She wished her people had never left.

       The moonlight filtered through the thick leaves, casting shadows about the forest floor, dimly lighting her way.  She moved with a preternaturally grace, making no sound except for that of her breathing.

       Her feet were bare, and her simple cloth dress reach mid-thigh, allowing her to feel a naturalness she did not feel within the confines of her castle, or even on the battlefield.  Only the cloak hindered her, but she never went without cape or shawl.

       The Elfins were once people of the wood, but now they were no more.  Only she was left, and in the deep of the woods, she felt it more so then ever, but gained comfort from the naturalness of her surroundings.

       She paused, poised on a rock, her feet precariously holding her perch as she looked upwards in a break in the trees, the full moon gleaming down at her.

       She closed her eyes and gave her senses, her essence to the trees around her.  She could feel them breathing, could feel the small creatures stirring in the underbrush near her.

       She lifted her head higher, and her cry broke the tranquil silence, "Kiya nearla! KIIIIYYYYAAAA!"

       She felt the power of the trees, rocks and animals flow through her, and she lifted her hands to the air, spinning on the rock, her loose, white hair streaming out behind her in a snowy billow of silk.  

       "Nika!  Nika lousa nea!"

       She opened her eyes suddenly, sensing a presence that was not natural to the world about her,  but belonged to the darkness that had once cloaked her people in safety.

       She turned slowly to see Spike watching her from the shadows, his face clothed in shadow. She looked back up at the moon, unaware of the bluish tears that dripped down her face with a secret sorrow she herself did not understand.

       Once, Elfins were a great people, and now she was the last, a foolish child trying to win an already lost battle.

       She listened as Spike moved closer to her, slowly, almost warily, then the sound of his boots skidding along the rock, and the soft whisper of his black trench as he came to stand beside her.

       She looked towards him, his face finally lit up by the moon.  She slowly reached up and touched the scar forming a lop-sided cross through the course, black hair of his eyebrow.

       Spike caught her hand with his own, his blue eyes boring into her gray ones, the orbs completely unreadable as he kissed the inside of her palm.

       "They can hear me," She said softly, and Spike frowned in confusion.

       "Who?"

       She gestured at the area around them, "They all can...they used to speak with me...but our power is fading.  I die...and so goes my people.  Then the trees will follow, for an Elfin's life is tied into that of Kiya...the spirits of the forest."

       Spike let go of her hand and it fell limply to her side.  "They tell me to fight, to end Dangor...but I do not belive I can."

       "Why not?"

       "He is too powerful," She hopped down from the rock, her eyes still on the moon above her, "I will die, and then the Kiya will follow...then the unicorn...and nymphs...and sprites...they will follow, for their fates are tied into Kiyas.  Our world will be dark again.  We will be ruled by the dark ones, the goblins, the trolls, the Orcs...gone will be the ones of light.  The Healers will disappear, and then the humans will find sickness which they never imagined.  Sickness, plagues...they could never imagine it." Spike watched as her strange, blue tears dripped down her face, "I will give in to Dangor...they are worse things I can do."

       "No!"  

       She turned, surprised by the sudden ferocity in his voice. He was glaring at her, his eyes threaded through with yellow, "You will beat him."

       "Is it worth the death of everything for my honor and pride?"  She asked, "I will not destroy what is left of Tiran-Lee for a fool's game."

       "You'd be a fool if you sold yourself out.  Tiran-Lee will be destroyed still!  At least you can say you stood and fought to the end!  Let the Elves have their vengeance," Spike stepped towards her, "Let it be a battle between darkness and light."

       She frowned slightly, looking towards the trees as a breeze started, whipping her hair around her head, and she closed her eyes, inhaling sharply.

       Spike stepped towards her and lifted her chin up so that she would look at him, and she opened her eyes as his lips brushed a light kiss across hers.

       She looked at him in surprise before smiling slightly, and Spike grinned, "See...that wasn't so hard, now was it, pet?"

       She stepped away from him, still smiling as she turned and darted into the trees.

       Spike looked after her in confusion, "What in the 'ell is she doing?" He asked aloud, then jumped when a bright light buzzed his head.

       Soon, he was surrounding by a dozen little lights, and his eyes widened slightly, able to distinguish the shapes of women and men in the lights.

       One of them hovered right in front of his nose, and the faery cocked her head, as if contemplated before spinning in the air and going off in the direction Aislinn had gone.

       Spike raised an eyebrow, and follwed the Fae people further into the forest.  He soon came to a clearing and he saw Aislinn waiting in the middle, surrounding by a hundred Fae, and she was spinning in a circle, as if dancing with them.

       They swoped and glided around her as she let out a laugh, a sound that sounded sweeter then bells.  Her gray eyes fell on Spike and with a smile, she beckoned to him.

       He reluctantly obeyed, ducking whenever a faery came too near his head, "What's going on?"

       "Why, Lord Spike, it's the Eve of the Full Moon," She told him, "The Fae always come out to play."

       "Play what?  I think they've made you go daft," Spike said, thinking of the stories he heard of fae people playing tricks on other creatures.

       Aislinn cocked her head, "Why do you say that?"

       Spike raised an eyebrow, "This is..." Another faery buzzed his head, "Hey!  Cut that out!"  

       Aislinn laughed again as Spike looked towards her.  She was framed by the full moon and the bright, colored lights of the fae, and her hair seemed to glow in a prism of colors.  

       In short, she looked positively edible.

       Spike growled softly and went towards Aislinn as the Fae scattered before him, their flights falling into a circle that surrounded them.  Their lights were reflected in her eyes, making it seem as though they were continuously changing colors.

       Spike stopped right in front of her, then frowned as she dropped into a crouch, placing her hands, palm down on the grass.

       "The Fae are a good folk," She whispered softly, "They want to gift you."

       "Why me?"  Spike asked curiously, and she looked up at him.

       "You are the Chosen One, the one spoken of in prophecy...the one who once more bring peace and fortune to Tiran-Lee."

       "Don't see how I'm supposed to do all that, luv," Spike answered, looking perplexed.  "I'm just a bleedin' vampire."

       She smiled as her hands glowed faintly, and he watched as vines sprouted from nothing, curling themselves around her arms.  She smiled at him reassuringly, "The House of Luka will be restored, and the Elfin will be saved."

       "Elfling," He corrected, "You're the last."

       She nodded slowly, "For now," She answered cryptically, "The Kira speak volumes of you, my Lord."

       He shook his head, raising an eyebrow, "You are daft."

       "Perhaps...it is the call of the moon," She admitted as the vines unfurled themselves from her, and she straightened, her body beginning to glow ethereally with a yellowish light.

       Spike looked around as a faint, humming sound started, then realized the Fae were singing, dancing around  he and Aislinn, spinning and swoping gracefully.

       When Spike looked towards Aislinn again, she had discarded her cloak, and to his surprise, he saw two pale white wings, much like a dragon fly's, spread out behind her. "You have wings! You didn' tell me you had wings!"

       She smiled, "Elfins are merely larger forms of Fae, my Lord.  We are of the ancient union of Norlak and Bertna, the God of Fae and the Guardian of humans."

       "Name's Spike...and why didn't you tell me you had wings?!"

       "You did not ask," She answered simply, fluttering them slightly, "They're perfectly normal..."

       "Then why were you hiding them?!"  Spike asked, still gaping at her, and she sighed, shaking her head.

       "Because people stare at them!"

       Spike grinned sheepisly, "Oh...right..."

       She went towards him and cupped his face between her hands, smiling gently before closing her eyes, "Loilia norous beinan," She whispered in prayer before pressing her lips against his.

       Spike growled softly, wrapping his arms around her, careful of her wings as he deepened the kiss.

       When she pulled away to breath, her eyes were shining, and her lips were looking a bit swollen.  He growled again as he dug his hands into her silky, white hair, kissing her with a bit more ferocity, the sound of the Faeries sweet singing echoing in his ears.

       Sunlight was assaulting his eyes behind his closed lids, and Spike groaned, feeling like his head was on fire.

       He felt something soft tickling his face, and his eyes shot open as he lifted a strand of white hair away from his nose, eyes widening.

       Aislinn was lying against him, head pillowed on his chest, one leg resting in between his thighs.  And he was pretty sure that beneath the cloak covering their bodies, they were nude.  He lifted it, eyes widening even more.  Yep...defiinitatly naked...really naked...

       He first thought was that she was going to kill him when she woke up, the second was along the lines of, 'Yes!  I got lucky' and his mind did a little touchdown dance.  

       Aislinn murmured something softly, snuggling closer to him, and his arms instinctively tightened around her.  He felt her suddenly tense, and she sat up abrubtly, the cloak falling away from her so that he could see her pale wings and small, pert breasts.  Spike stifled a groan.

       "Oh my Gods!"  She gaped at him, then shrieked, pulling the cloak back over her, "What did you do to me?!"

       "Me?!"  Spike glared at her, "What in the bloody 'ell are you talking about?  You threw yourself at me!"

       "I did no such thing!"  She huffed, looking around for her clothes, then groaned when she saw them lying a good twenty feet away, "You...you took advantage of me!"

       Spike snorted, "Yeah...keep tellin' yourself that, baby.  But you weren't exactly protestin' when you were screamin' my name like a bleeding banshee--" The words were barely out of his mouth before his head was rocked by her backhand.  "Ow!"

       "Be quiet an-and...get my clothes!"  

       Spike rubbed his sore cheek, glaring daggers at her, "I don't know what bloody century you're livin' in, luv, but you don't hit a bloke then order him around in the next instant!"

       Aislinn glared at him, lifting her chin regally, "Do as I say...or...or..."

       "You'll what?!  Toss me in the dungeon again?  Please...I spent a month chained in a bathtub.  I think I can handle that rathole after that!"

       "Damn you, you infuriating man!" She snapped at him, "Then look away!"

       "Why?  Haven't got anything I didn't see plenty of last night," Spike leered at her, and her eyes narrowed.

       "You pompous ass!"

       "Good, insult me.  How'd you ever got to be queen is beyond me." Aislinn did a pretty fair imitation of a growl, and he chuckled, amused, "Got that silver spoon jammed up your arse far enough?"

       Aislinn made a noise of disgust as she stood, averting her eyes as she took the cloak with her, and Spike rolled his eyes before going to grab his clothes. She dressed quickly, then look about for her own cloak, grumbling beneath her breath about Chosen Ones and the damned Fae.

       "Whose side are they on, anyhow?"  She asked aloud, turning when Spike tapped her shoulder.  He handed her her cloak, ignoring her glare as he looked about, "Hope you know where we are, cause I'm not too sure I can find my way back."

       "Oh Gods..." Her eyes suddenly widened, "If we walk back into camp, they're going to think that we were...oh Gods..."

       "Luv, in case you don't remember, we were doing..." He cut off his reminder at her scathing look, "Right.  Well, bugger them.  Why do you care so much?"

       "A Queen is not supposed to be doing such things with someone who is beneath her!"  Aislinn snapped angrily, "I'm part of the monarchy!  The Gods only know who or what you are!"

       Spike glared at her as he jerked his shirt over his head, and grabbed his cloak from her, "I'm getting pretty 'effin tired of you, pet!  Someone oughta take that attitude and jam it down your fucking throat!"

       "You cannot speak to me thus!"  She pratically snarled at him, "You will respect me and my station!"

       "Sod that!"  Spike scoffed loudly, "No one tells me what to do...least of all some two-bit whore of a stuck-up little brat!"

       "Whore?!"  She fairly screeched, flying at him, nails extended.

       She crashed into him and he growled as they slammed into the ground, and she was punching him in the face for all she was worth.

       Spike felt his nose start to bleed, and he grabbed her wrists, then flipped them over so that he was straddling her.

       "Will you calm the hell down?!"  He said through clenched teeth, then howled, letting go of her as she managed to knee him in the crotch. She rolled away from him, standing with a dignified snort as she stood, brushing grass from her cloak and shift.

       Spike had his back to her as he cradled himself, groaning loudly, "You bitch!"

       Ailsinn winced slightly.  She was a warrior, and knew it was an extremely low-blow to kick a man in the 'jewels.'

       "My lord?"  She touched his shoulder, "I am sorry...I didn't mean..."

       "Get away from me!"  He hissed at her, and she drew up in anger.

       "I was trying to apologize!  You 're such a...a..."

       Spike turned his face towards her, his vampiric visage visible, amber eyes glowing in anger, "GET AWAY!"

       She let out a sharp cry, stumbling backwards, gray eyes widening. She could not believe she had touched such a thing!

       "What are you?!"  She asked in horror, and Spike turned his face away with another growl.

       She turned and fled into the woods as fast as her feet would take her, and Spike pressed the heels of his palms against his closed eyes with a groan, "Stupid bastard..."

       Magdar looked up as his Queen charged into the camp, hair and cloak streaming out behind her, looking extremely disheveled.

       She rushed right past the assembled search party, ignoring them as she retreated into her tent, and Magdar frowned, glancing at Lorkan.  "Where's Lord Spike?"

       "Maybe she killed him," Lorkan suggested, a little too hopefully, and Magdar sighed, shaking his head.  With Aislinn, that wasn't too casual a guess.

       He held off the search party as he went into Aislinn's tent to find her angrily pacing it, raking her hands through her long hair.

       "What happened?"

       "The Fae," Aislinn bit out, "The Fae happened.  I thought they were supposed to be on our side!"

       Magdar raised an eyebrow, "Did you anger Siofra in anyway?"  He asked, referring to the ruler of the Fae people.

       "No!  Of course not!"

       "I must have a word with her," He sighed, shaking his head.  It was much too dire a time for her people to be luring Aislinn into one of their gaming circles. He had a sudden thought as he looked towards Aislinn, "Were you alone?"

       She gave him a look, "Yes."

       "You're lying!  You were with the Chosen One!"

       "Oh...do be quld F" Aislinn shed her cloak.

       Magdar raised an eyebrow, but obeyed, "As ordered, the Kings are to assemble tonight in your castle," He told her.

       She hissed through her teeth, nodding, "Call my horse.  I will leave at once."

       "And Lord Spike?"

       "If he finds his way out of the woods, which, unfortunately, I believe he will, he seems to have a bad habit of turning up at inopportune times..."  

       "Aislinn..."

       "Keep him away from the others," She said with a sigh.  "I don't need him mucking up things any further!"

       "Yes, my Queen," Magdar bowed, "It is done."

       Spike didn't come trudging back into camp till night fall, grumbling beneath his breath about certain 'Royal bitches leaving him out in the forest too rot.'

       It didn't take a genius to figure out of whom he was talking about.

       "Where in the 'ell is she?"  Spike snapped as soon as he saw Magdar, "I'm going to bloody rip her head off and fucking drop kick it!"

       "She's gone back to the castle, my Lord," Magdar told him, "She is in a meeting with the other rulers surrounding Tiran-Lee."

       "Good," He growled, heading for the horses, "I hope they tell her she can stick this bleedin' kingdom where the sun don't shine."

       "My Lord...she wishes for you..."

       "Fuck what she wishes," Spike growled, mounting a horse, "And fuck this bloody kingdom!"

       He ground the heels of his boots into the steed, and Magdar sighed heavily, looking towards the other horses.  "I hate these beasts..."

       Aislinn was unable to believe what was being said to her.

       "This...is completely unacceptable!"  She reigned her anger with a prodigious effort, leveling her hard gaze on the other rulers in the room.

       She was dressed properly in a pure white dress that shimmered in the lamp light as she moved, and her wings were not hidden from few, and seemed to throw glimmer with their own essence, and her hair was braided in a halo surrounding her head, the only decoration the ever present silver band.

       "It's the way of things, Aislinn," King Torna said, standing up, "Why put my kingdom at risk of Darnog's wrath when all he wants is this small, insignificant kingdom?"

       "My father came to your aid during the Trinoldian wars, Torna.  There was risk of retaliation, but he still helped you!"

       Torna shifted uncomfortably, "Tiran-Lee isn't the stronghold it once was, Aislinn.  It's just not worth the lives."

       Aislinn's eyes swept across the table, looking at everyone in turn, but they all averted their eyes from her. She drew herself up proudly, nodding curtly, "Fortune favors the brave, gentlemen.  Too bad you're all cowards."

       She whirled and swept fromt the room, and the kings were left to look at each other uncomfortably before exiting.

       Aislinn watched them go from the doorway, closing her eyes as she swayed slightly on her feet. It's hopeless then...their support were my last resort...

       She slowly turned and disappeared into the confines of her castle, knowing preparations had to be made for their last battle.

       Spike stepped out of the shadows, frowning slightly, his anger deflated a bit.  He realized he had just watched, very possibly, the last hope being dissolved in an already lost war.

       Magdar found Spike in his bedchambers, lying on the bed and staring up at the ceiling.  He came in and closed the door before facing the vampire, "Aislinn is calling her army to the walls of the castle," He told Spike, but the vampire didn't acknowledge him.

       "The final battle is coming, and she insists that we make the final attack."

       "There is no we," Spike replied, sitting up, "I'm out.  This bullshit is really none of my business."

       "But...you are the Chosen..."

       "No, I'm not!"  Spike snapped at him, his eyes narrowing, "You obviously don't know what a vampire is!  I have no soul, no feelings...nothing!  I'm a monster, mate, so get used to it!"

       "In the woods, did you not pledge yourself to my Queen?"

       "It was sex, old man, that's all.  Just a couple of people shaggin' their brains out, then never talkin' to each other again.  Called a one night stand, where I come from."

       Magdar's eyes narrowed slightly, "You dishonour her, my Lord."

       "She dishonored herself, I was just there for the ride," Spike smirked at him, then lay back on his bed, "Let me know when my bloody month is up," He said, crossing his arms beneath his head, "An' how about sending up someone for me to drain?"

       Magdar let out a sound of disgust, "You are no warrior," He hissed, "You are as bad as Darnog himself."

       Spike flashed his true face at Magdar, "Nah, mate, I'm a hell of a lot worse."

       Aislinn slipped among the city nestled among the castle walls, hood over her head to hide her from sight.  Every doorway she passed seemed to be flying a black flag, signaling a death in that household.  So many dead...

       She sighed, drawing her hood farther over her face.  A few children scrambled towards her and held out their hands, begging for alms.  She pressed a few gold coins into their palms, all she had, and they went away when they realized that.

       Tiran-Lee had fallen a great deal in her rule.  In her father's time, children would not have been forced to beg on the streets for their daily bread.

       She moved closer to the wall as a group of soldiers passed by.  They were now occupying the walls, ready to move out at her orders, once she decided on a course of action.

       She tucked a strand of white hair behind  a pointed ear as she sidesteped puddles of refuse, thrown from the thatched homes around her, sighing again.

       Father, I have failed the people and Tiran-Lee...because of me, this is all that is left...

       Her face suddenly hardened as she squared her shoulders, and turned back towards the castle.  No more would she fail them.  She would do her duty as queen.

       "There is no discussion, Lorkan!"

       "I refuse to accept this, my Queen!"

       "Listen to him, My lady...he speaks the truth...this is extremely dangerous..."

       For nearly two days, the trio's voices had risen in argument over and over again, as they discussed their options, then erupted into a fight once more.  In all that time, all it boiled down to was...there were no more options, save one.  The one which Lorkan and Magdar were trying their damnedest to prevent.

       "How many more lives will I waste, Magdar?  Face it, the war is lost."

       "Just the battles, my Queen!"  Lorkan broke in, "The war is not yet over!"

       "It has to be, General!  No longer will the people suffer beneath me.  No longer will I send their men to die and leave their women and children without husband and father.  This is no longer my world or my kingdom, Lorkan.  Magick is dying.  Tell me you haven't felt it, Magdar."

       The old man shifted a bit uncomfortably, "True, the good is becoming a bit weaker..."

       "It's the humans' world now.  No longer will I interefere with them.  Let them have it.  I have no need for it."

       "Dangor..."

       "Will share my fate," Her lips were set in a grim line, and Lorkan's eyes widened slightly, realizing her intentions, "That's suicide."

       Aislinn raised an eyebrow, "Prepare my horse, Lorkan.  I will leave within the hour."

       Spike scowled, throwing an arm over his eyes as the door to his room opened, "Don' you people knock?"  He sniped, "I'm trying to sleep!"

       No one answered him, and he tensed as he heard the door close and lock.  Shit...what was she saying about assasins?!

       Spike sat up, his eyes narrowing as Aislinn slowly turned from the door, her eyes finding his.

       "I must ask you something," She said softly, and Spike relaxed slightly, cocking his head in puzzlement.

       "What? No snide, uppity comments?"

       She ducked her head almost shyly, "I am sorry, my Lord...I did not mean to offend."

       "Fine, same here," Spike replied off-handily, "What do you want?"

       "In your world...does...magick still exist?"

       Spike frowned, a bit confused by her question, "Well...yeah, I guess...there's witches...and demons and such..."

       "What about us?  Elves, I mean..."

       "Um...can't say I say I saw any of your kind.  Heard of them, but they're not supposed to exist anymore."

       She cast her eyes down, nodding slowly, "Very well.  Magdar will send you home once the time is right, Lord Spike.  Farewell."

       "What?  Now you're goin' to ignore me for the next three weeks?"  Spike asked irritably, and Aislinn shook her head, "I leave this day for the camps of Dangor."

       "You're what?!  That's suicide!"

       "So it is," She smiled indugently, lifting her head proudly, "But I will not enter the afterlife alone.  I will take Dangor with me."

       "You're going to kill yourself for him?"

       "For my people...and what Tiran-Lee once was," She bowed slightly, "I take my leave of you, Lord Spike, and pray that you reach your world well," She turned and glided back towards the door.

       "If I say I'll fight, will you change your mind?"  Spike asked suddenly, and she paused, looking over her shoulder.

       "I do this so there will be no more fighting.  The deaths will end with mine, my Lord.  As it should have long ago."

       Spike frowned, slightly troubled as she left him, then sighed, shaking his head, "Bloody 'ell..."

       Lorkan and Magdar stood by Aislinn's side as the Queen finished strapping her armour on, and settling her hood over her bound hair, nodding at her friends.  "You have been faithful, my friends.  I trust you to watch over Tiran-Lee in my stead."

       "My Queen," Lorkan dropped to his knees before her, and bowed his head in reverence, "Your will be done."

       She smiled sadly, touching his long, brown hair, "Stand, my dear Lorkan.  They will be no bowing before me from now on," She told him, and he slowly stood.  She touched his rough cheek, raising an white eyebrow as she looked into his eyes, "And no tears.  That is an order."

       He smiled, taking her small hand in his large one and kissing her palm, "As you wish, my Queen."

       Aislinn turned towards Magdar and the old man gathered her into his arms, squeezing her body with all his strength, "May the Gods speed your mission, my girl," He muttered in her ear, "And may they look mercifully onto Tiran-Lee from this day forward."

       "Thank you," She pulled away from him and kissed his cheek, "Protect Tiran-Lee with your strength and wisdom, my old friend."

       She mounted her horse, giving them a last wave as she wheeled the beast around and started towards the castle gate.

       The horse suddenly reared, and she looked up as a whistling filled the air, eyes widening as a large, flaming ball appeared over the walls.  It crashed into something out of her sight, and she hear a loud 'whoomph' followed by the smell of smoke.

       "Attack!  We're under attack!"  A sentinel belatedly screamed from a battlement, and then was pitched over the side, clutching an arrow portruding from his chest as he fell.

       Aislinn dismounted and ran up a set of stairs to the battlements, eyes widening.  An army of thousands was surrounding her castle, with Dangor at the head of it.

       "NO!"  She turned, screaming down at Lorkan, "Open the gates!"

       "If we do that now, we all die," a voice growled from behind her, and she whirled, seeing Spike looking out at the army, and he glanced at her, "They'll flood the place before you have a chance to say anything.  Then everyone dies."

       She nodded, knowing he was correct, then looked down at Lorken, changing her orders, "TO THE WALLS!  PROTECT ALL SIDES!  TIRAN-LEE WILL FIGHT!"

       Lorkan saluted her with a wide grin and hurried to assemble his men.

       Aislinn glanced at Spike as he smiled at her, unsheathing his sword, "Fortune favors the brave, huh, pet?"

       She smiled, despite herself, "Unfortunatly, the cowards are living longer lives."

       Aislinn swiped at her face, her forehead dotted with sweat from the heat and exertion of battle.  Down below, people were yelling as they tried to put out the fire caused by flaming arrows and balls of fire shot by Dangor's catapults.

       Smoke rose thickly in the air, choking the breath of the people trying to keep Dangor's forces from getting over the castle walls.

       Her skin was smudged with ash, dirt and blood and she flinched as a soldier screamed beside her, clutching his stomach as an arrow penetrated it.  She considered stopping to heal him, but by the time she was by his side, he was dead.  She said a short prayer, then straightened, wings fluttering as she loaded a bow, aiming along the arrow's shaft.

       Accurately, her arrow struck the chest plate of a soldier manning the catapult, and she swiftly reloaded and took out the other one before moving on.

       A grappling hook flew near her head, and her sword flashed into her hand, and she heard a scream as she cut the rope loose, sending whoever was climbing it to fall into the moat.

       "DOELA NIKKS!"  

       Aislinn's eyes shot towards the sound, and watched as Magdar let loose a ball of energy, taking out a group of horse-back soldiers, making them scream as they fell off their steeds and writhe on the ground in agony, and she nodded in approval at the old man.

       She whirled as something moved behind her, and stabbed her dagger into the throat of a great, black troll trying to clamber over the side, and he shouted as he fell backwards, scrabbling at the wall for purchase, but to no avail.

       "Trolls!  Watch for the damned trolls!"  Aislinn screamed at a group of soldiers watching the walls.  Damn things don't need ropes...damn, damn, damn...

       She loaded her bow again, narrowing her eyes as she expertly took out another soldier.

       She jumped when something slapped against her butt, and whirled, glaring at Spike, who was covered with blood, a wide grin on his face, "Bloody hell, but this is fun!"  He called over the noise of screams, and she let out a strangled sound of disgust.

       " Fun?!  People are dying!"  She snapped at him, and his face fell slightly. She stalked away from him, wings fluttering behind her as she sought out her general.

       He heard something that sounded like leather flapping in the wind, and his eyes shot upwards as one of Dangor's winged generals swooped from the sky.  He shouted and leapt at Aislinn, knocking her to the cold stone as the general let out a sharp cry of disappointment, pulling himself back up just before striking the wall and hovered high in the air, out of the way of the arrows.

       Aislinn rolled onto her back as Spike sat up, smiling wanly, "Thanks..."

       Spike nodded, starting to stand, then tensed as a troll jumped behind him, fastening onto his back and his sharp, jagged teeth ripped into the vampire's shoulder.

       "Spike!"  Aislinn rushed forward, then brought up her hands, "Delicta!"  

       The troll howled as a ball of fire struck him in the face, and Spike whirled, kicking the troll back over the wall to fall into the moat, then winced, slumping to his knees, clutching his torn shoulder.  "Shit!"

       Aislinn was by his side in an instant and pressed her hands against his shoulder, closing her eyes, muttering a spell beneath her breath.

       Spike tensed as a surge of power entered him, and he watched as her face grew paler, then ripped her hands from him as she fell weakly against him.  His shoulder itched from the scab healing over it, speedened by her healing powers, but it had weakened her, "Stupid bitch," He muttered, brushing a strand of damp, dirty hair out of her eyes, "I get the bleedin' gem on my finger...it wouldn't have hurt me."

       "Need you..." She coughed, the smoke embedded deeply in her lungs, "To fight...can't risk losing a warrior now."

       Spike straightened, lifting her in his arms, looking around.  All around him, trolls, demons and even some humans were overrunning the walls, overpowering what little manpower Tiran-Lee had left.  He held the weakened Queen against his chest as he started to sprint for one of the towers, hoping to at least get her out before the castle was completely overtaken.

       He was almost to the tower door when he was hit from behind and he was falling over into the courtyard.  He turned in mid-air, gasping when he landed on his back, his head slamming into the ground.  

       His arms slipped loose, and Aislinn groaned as she slid out of his arms, rolling onto her stomach.

       Spike watched dazedly as the winged general landed next to them, and tried to sit up, but the general placed a clawed foot on his stomach, forcing him back to the ground, the heavy foot crushing his ribs.

       "Stay...away...from...her..." He ground out, and the general let out a half-laugh, half-growl as scaly hands closed around his head, and he met Aislinn's dazed, wide eyes as the demon twisted his head, and she closed her eyes against the loud snap of his neck, tears squeezing from beneath her pale lids as the general stepped off of Spike.

       She reached for her sword, but the demon kicked it out of her grasp before punching her in the face and knocking her out.  He lifted her up, snorted at Spike's still body, then shoved off the ground, wide, leathery wings beating against the air as he returned to his master.

       Aislinn groaned as she started to come too.  She almost smiled as someone slowly stroked her bare arm, but forced it back, putting a stern tone to her voice, "You know, Lord Spike...that's a hanging offense..."

       She gasped as her hair was suddenly grabbed and her eyes shot open as she was jerked upward, and they were widened as she was forced to stare into Dangor's face, his eyes narrowed in fury, "And who is this Lord Spike?"  He growled at her, and her eyes narrowed.

       "You bastard!"  She hissed at him, her hand flying to her thigh, and he chuckled, letting go of her as he stood.

       "Looking for this?"  He asked, holding up a thigh-sheath that contained her dagger.

       She glared at him as she stood up, clad in a shift that they had given her after stripping her of her armour, which was resting in the corner of Dangor's tent.

       She pulled the collar of the dress around her, holding it protectively about her throat.  "I was to make peace with you, Dangor...but you then attacked my castle."

       Dangor shrugged, "You lost your chance, my dear.  I still would have destroyed it.  It's sad, really.  Tiran-Lee is such a pathetic piece of land nowadays.  Not even worth the time of the other kingdoms." She tensed slightly as the dark-haired man smirked at her, "Pity, really, the way you've failed your entire kingdom.  Now it's gone," He stepped towards the door of the tent and opened it, letting her look out on her castle.  Entire walls had fallen, and a tower teetered, ready to topple at any minute.

       His soldiers were ushering people out of the smoking ruins, wooden yokes about their necks, holding their hands and heads prisoner, and they were linked by chains about their feet.

       Tiran-Lee had fallen...and she was now looking on it's new ruler, who was smiling cruelly at her, his dark eyes roving over her body.  She took a step back as he let the curtain fall, and he leered at her as he strode towards her, pinning her arms to her side.

       "We shall return to Korah...victorious, and with you as my Queen..."

       Her eyes narrowed as she spat in his face, and he smiled as he wiped at the spittle, then backhanded her, and she fell onto her hands and knees, her eyes never leaving his, the gray orbs glowing with defience.  "I will die first!"  She hissed at him, and he chuckled.

        "I have no doubt of that," He said, then gripped her forearm and yanked her back to her feet.  "However, if you kill yourself, my dear, the rest of your people follow.  I will not rest to every single citizen of Tiran-Lee is dead.  Understand?!"

       She eyed him cooly, before nodding slowly, and a smile crossed his face as he kissed her cheek, "Wonderful, darling.  I am glad that we are on the same level."

       "You're beneath me, Darnog, you will never be on the same level," She answered calmly, "You're not even on the same level as Yoak dung."

       Darnog grabbed her chin and squeezed it till she cried out, his eyes burning in his face, "You will speak to me with respect, my dear...or I'll be forced to remove your acid tongue from your mouth.  I don't want you for your speaking abilities anyhow."

       She tore her chin from his grasp, then spat on the ground at his feet, "You will pay for this, Darnog.  I will make sure of it."

       "Face it, Aislinn...you've lost.  Tiran-Lee is no more...and you belong to me," He smiled, "We shall leave at once for Korah.  I think you shall like it there.  It'll be...your home away from home..."  He whirled and swept out of the tent.

       Aislinn closed her eyes taking a deep breath before collapsing to her knees and burrowing her face in her hands, starting to weep.  Not for her, but for her dead kingdom, and for the warrior that hadn't needed to get involved, and now lay dead because of her.

       "He has no heartbeat."

       "Of course he doesn't, you fool!  He's dead!"

       "Then what are you..."

       Lorkan jumped as Spike's eyes suddenly opened, stumbling backwards, "Gods!  He lives!"

       "Ah...Christ..." Spike touched the back of his head, where a burning, throbbing sensation was emanating from where he had smacked it on the stones in the courtyard.  Aislinn!

       He got to his feet, and Magdar reached out a hand, steadying him, "You must rest, my Lord..."

       "Where is she?!"  Spike snapped, looking around the low hut, frowning slightly.  What the fuck?  Where's the castle?

       "Dangor has taken her," Lorkan said bitterly, glaring at Spike banefully, "So much for the Warrior.  Tiran-Lee has fallen, even with your help."

       Spike made to lunge at him, but Magdar held him back with a hand against his chest, and Spike growled at Lorkan.

       "I tried to protect her..."

       "Yeah, and got your neck snapped in the process!"

       "Stop it!"  Magdar shouted at them, "Tiran-Lee has fallen, our people enslaved, our Queen taken!  We do not have time for you two to start a fight!"

       "Sorry, Magdar."

       "Sorry, mate."

       Magdar nodded, satisfied, "Dangor has left for Korah.  It is a four-day journey, but he has an army following him, so he will be slower then us."

       "Um...mate...?  Don't shoot little balls of fire at me or nuthin', but...how many soldiers do you have left exactly?"

       "There's just the three of us.  The rest deserted, taken prisoner, or were killed."

       "Right...great...gotta love those odds.  Three against an entire army."

       "Odds are not important, Lord Spike," Magdar answered, "Aislinn fought tooth and nail against the odds."

       "Yeah, and look at her now.  She's 'bout to become Mrs. Bond Villain."

       "Who?"

       Spike rolled his eyes, "Never mind...but's it's impossible, mate.  We can't possibly beat this guy.  I'm just a goddamn vampire, for Chrissakes!  I'm not a Chosen anything!  I don't even care about what happens to this pissant kingdom of yours!"

       "But you care about Aislinn," Magdar replied surely, and Lorkan looked towards Spike, eyes narrowing slightly.

       "That thing has feelings for our Queen?"

       Spike didn't answer him, only leveled him with a glare before saying, "And how do you suggest we go about gettin' her back?  Knock on the bloody doors of Korah and say, 'Give us the girl or we'll throw rocks at you?'  If so, I hope his dungeon's a whole lot more posh then yours, cause we're goin' to be rottin in it for a long time."

       "I will go for her," Lorkan said, straightening his back and looking towards Magdar, "I will not let that bastard touch her!"

       Magdar nodded, his eyes on Spike, "General, please excuse us."

       Lorkan hesistated for a few seconds, then exited the hut, and Magdar turned towards Spike again, "Will you come with us?  She's counting on you."

       "She's misplaced her trust, mate," Spike growled shortly, shoving past him and running out of the hut and past Lorkan.  He plunged into the woods surrounding him, and when he was a good distance away, sure he was alone, he stopped, looking up at the darkening sky, and howled with all he was worth before falling to his knees with a snarl, "GOD-FUCKING-DAMMIT!"

       Lorkan and Madgar's eyes shot towards the woods at the primal roars coming from deep within it's depths as they mounted their horses, and the beasts shied fearfully at the sound.

       Magdar turned sad, wrinkled eyes on Lorkan before nodding and spurring his horse forward, praying that they weren't too late for their Queen.  Gods help us all...

       Spike moved deeper and deeper into the forest, lost with all he was worth.  He had tried to find his way back to the hut, but had only ended up turned around and going in circles.  Finally, he had picked a direction and just kept going straight, not knowing the nature of the forest's depths.

       He had walked for three days, weakness starting to overcome him.  He was unable to hunt, since the chip in his head would activate if he tried to harm something other then a demon, and bloodlust was nearly driving him mad with hunger.

       Not to mention the guilt eating away at him.

       Once in a while, he'd see little lights moving among the trees and would follow them till they disappeared, the faeries choosing to remain away from the demon, and he growled in frustration.  Sure, now they don't want anything to do with me...bloody great...

       And the Powers help him, everytime he saw the lights of the Fae, he was reminded of that one night with Aislinn, the Queen seemingly bared of all worries and responisibilites, laughing with him as they tumbled about in the tall grass playfully.

       The way her hair had shimmered in the glow of the Fae, their intoxicating song seeming to make her skin taste sweeter beneath his cool lips, her smell seemingly more fulfilling then any Slayer blood he had ever drank of.  

       He'd give his unlife to find out if it was the same when they were not under an enchantment.  Damn faeries...he thought, knowing that it was their fault that he felt guilty about abandoning her to her fate.  And for the way he wanted nothing more then to touch her again, and feel her soft, warm body beneath his once more, only without a spell hanging over their heads.

       He growled, ducking his head beneath a branch, then sat down on a rock, resting his elbows on his knees, turning his eyes upwards, "Even in other fucking dimensions, you have to bloody fuck up my life!"  He snapped at the sky, "Well, sod off, you smug bugger!"  

       He suddenly tensed, sensing movement behind him, and his hand shot to his neck as something sharp pricked it.  He came away with a feathered, wooden dart, eyes widening slightly as he turned, seeing someone emerge from the shadow of the trees, holding a pea-shooter, their face covered by the facial bones of a human skull.  The figure was dressed in form-fitting green breeches and doublet, and Spike's world began to waver as he removed a dagger from his boot, approaching the blond vampire.

       Then Spike plunged forward, his vision going black, and the last thing he was able to see as the figure knelt above him, dagger flashing in the moonlight, was pointed ears beneath the hood.

       Aislinn was looking out the window of her 'prison' out on the mountains that broke the border between Tiran-Lee and Korah.  She winced slightly, remembering that Tiran-Lee no longer existed.  It all belonged to Korah now.

       She knew soon that Dangor would come for her.  Their farce of a wedding ceremony would begin within the week, and she would finally lose what little of herself that she owned to the bastard.

       She swiped at her eyes, wiping away the bluish tears that threatened to spill over once again.  She had cried more in the last few days then she ever had in her life, even when her father and mother were killed.

       She looked down on the courtyard, tensing when she saw Lorkan and Magdar being led in, the general fighting against his captors with snarls of outrage, trying to break free.

       They live!  She felt like rejoicing, but knew that now, it was truly over.  They were her last hope.

       Magdar looked upwards, finding her eyes, mouthing something, but she couldn't tell what it was.  Just then, Lorkan smashed the back of his head into a soldier, and she screamed as another one drew a sword, and drove it into the man's back.

       "LORKAN!"  

       He looked up at her, then smiled as the soldier removed his sword, and she averted her eyes as the soldier brought it down, severing his head from his body.

       She stumbled backwards from the window, collapsing into a heap on the floor and screaming out her grief, tears streaming freely down her face.

       Spike felt himself being jostled roughly, and he groaned as his eyes opened.  There was an immediate scuffling away from him, with cries of alarm.  He shook his head as he sat up, rubbing his neck with a growl as he looked around.

       Once more he was in a low hut, but it appeared different from the last one, instead of having thatched roofing, it was made of moss and twisted branches, as were the tables and chairs in it.  He was laying on a bed with bedding made of moss as well.

       He looked towards the figure in the corner, and seeing the same person who had attacked him in the forest, their face still covered with the upper half of a skull, obscuring their features, their companions wearing identical ones, but some with markings on the skin exposed.

       Their hoods were all drawn and Spike's eyes widened slightly, seeing their pointed ears.  However, they all seemed different from Aislinn.  Their wings were different colors, no white visible on them, and their hair was all short, different colors, like red, brown, black, blue and even one with forest green hair.

       "Are you elves?"  Spike asked, rolling his eyes when they didn't answer him, instead turning towards each other and whispering.

       "He is the one spoken of in legend..."

       "He cannot be..."

       "He will rise from death...he has no heartbeat...he is the one..."

       "You know," Spike interrupted, drawing their looks back towards him, "I'm gettin 'effin tired of people telling me I am the bloody 'Chosen One!'"

       "He speaks strangely...he is a stranger too!"

       Spike shook his head as the one that had shot him removed his mask, revealing the tell-tale elfin features, his blue eyes shining in his tanned face, "I am Zenon, Chief of the Huik Elven Clan.  We are honoured by your presence in our village, Sire."

       Spike sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "There's more of you?"

       "There are exactly one hundred clans in the great forest, all located deep within the depths, where humans cannot find us," He told Spike, "We have legends that tell of one such as you.  They say you will come and bring us back to our rightful place among the world, and that you will destroy the evil one."

       "Dangor being the evil one?"

       "Shhh!"  Zenon looked at the others, who had began to fearfully murmur among themselves, "Do not speak his name!"

       Spike shook his head slightly, superstitious elves...just what I bloody need...

       "Did it ever occur to you to fight him your bloody self instead of waiting around for some freakin' legendary nobody to show up and bail your arses out?"

       "We cannot win without you."

       "Goddamn it!"  Spike glared at him, "While you fuckers were out here campin', Aislinn's been fighting a bloody losing war, and she didn't wait around for some bloody white knight to help her!"

       "We have offended you, Sire," Zenon bowed, "We are sorry..."

       "Fuck this shit...could you just point me towards the nearest dimensional portal?  I just want to fucking go home and forget about you goddamn elves with their bloody weird ears and beautiful gray eyes...and I didn't say that!"  Spike growled, raking a hand through his hair, "ARRGGHH!"

       Zenon was looking at him in puzzlement, "You have seen an elf with gray eyes?"

       "Elfling," He corrected without thinking, looking towards Zenon, "Said she was a child in your years."

       "An Elfling with gray eyes?!"  Zenon looked towards the others, who were listening with wide, amazed eyes, then back at Spike, "This elfling...what did she look like?"

       Spike cocked his head in puzzlement, "Pure white hair...white wings...kinda see-through..." He smiled slightly, his eyes looking far into the distance, "Pale skin...paler then mine...and so bloody soft...kinda tasted like chocolate..." He shook his head, clearing his head of his thoughts and scowling, "What's it too you?"

       "An ancient one," Zenon breathed softly, "We thought they were only myths..."

       "Wait...you think she's a bleedin' myth?"

       "We thought the last had been killed off by the evil one..."

       "Naw...she's the Queen of Tiran-Lee...was the Queen...Dan-the evil one has her now."

       Zenon's face fell, "Then she is dead."

       "He took her for his Queen," Spike's scowl deepened, "He's probably bloody tryin' to shag my woman now...bloody bastard..."

       "Then all is lost," Zenon sighed, and Spike's eyes shot towards him.

       "Wot?!  You're not even goin' to try and help her?!"  He snapped angrily, aware he was being a hypocrite.  Hadn't he just done that himself?  Run instead of helping her out after she nearly killed herself trying to heal him?

       "Fuckin' wanker," He muttered beneath his breath, looking at the elves, "First things first, I'm bloody starvin'...I need some blood.  Don't care what kind right now, not too picky at the moment."

       Zenon paled, "Blood?"

       "Yeah, and then...the other clans...we're going to need them all."

       "Why, Sire?"

       Spike smiled darkly, his eyes lighting up, "We're goin' to go save the girl, mate."

       Spike slowly pulled on the clothes the elves had given him, his thoughts elsewhere as he buckled a sword to his waist, his fingers brushing against the soft, tanned doe-skin of his breeches, and the rough fabric of his loose, white shirt.  He raked a hand through his hair, then downed the rest of his deer blood, almost smiling at the memory's it evoked.  When he was little, he had always loved to eat venison, and hadn't had it in nearly two hundred years.

       He slipped a dagger into the doe-skin boots that reached just above his knees as Zenon came in, "The clan leaders are wary of your plan, Sire, but they are willing to follow the Chosen One."

       "Good," Spike muttered, wondering if he was getting in way over his head as he turned to face the Chief, fidgeting with the gem on his finger.  "A lot of your are going to die."

       "We know this, but legend says you will bring us victory, Sire, and we will die for you to bring us back to our place in the world.  We are tired of hiding in the trees."

       Spike bit back a snide comment about the way they had been hiding.  Aislinn was right, fortune favored the brave, but these cowards were living longer and healithier lives.  But could he really blame them?  They had fled from the extermination of their people.

       An elf appeared at the door, shooting Spike an awed look, "Siofra has come, Chief Zenon.  She wishes for her people to come and help the Chosen One."

       "Who's Siofra?"  Spike asked, heading out of the hut, then froze, his eyes widening.  He was surrounding by a vast city, all built high above the ground in the trees.  Suspension bridges spanned the area, connecting every hut, and a series of ropes and pulleys connected the elves to the ground.  Thousands of elves moved about the place, or were flying above the trees.  If this was just one clan, he'd love to see the others.

       A hundred clans...and if they have as many people as this...we outnumber Darnog, ten to one.  

       "Siofra is the Queen of Faeries, Sire," Zenon answered, and Spike scowled.

       "The Fae...great...I got an ax to grind with them."

       Zenon frowned in confusion a