-"Maria and Draco", "Darkness and Starlight" version
o 0 O 0 o
Act Two
He could not have won, and she should not have wasted hope on letting herself believe that he might. After watching helplessly as her country fell and even her own castle became the haven of the enemy, her foolish heart should have grown wise enough to realize that a tiny group of wary soldiers would stand no chance against the prince of the East and a building full of his supporters. The moment Draco had revealed himself the fight had already been as good as lost.
It was too cruel, to know that her hero was so close now only for him to be waiting for his death in her own dungeon.
Over the course of the long war and all that had come after, Maria had grown almost accustomed to feeling useless. She was the princess, everyone had been quick to remind her whenever they received news from the far-off battlefields; it was her place to wait safely in the capital while her brothers went off to fight and die to protect their land, and to give the soldiers the comfort of knowing she was praying for them. She was the princess, they told her when the forces of the east were gathering before the castle and they had no choice but to fight because they'd been so sure of the army's victory that they hadn't prepared for a siege; her place was to be hidden away in the deepest part of the castle, and the guards and her father with them would fight more fiercely knowing that they were keeping her safe.
She was the princess, they told her when the banners of the East hung from her castle's parapets and a stranger sat on her father's empty throne; it was her duty to smile prettily and take Prince Ralse's arm when it was offered, so he might think well of their country and do them no further harm.
She had listened to them at every turn, peaceably going along with every suggestion of inaction because she had faith in her father. Faith that the advisors he had chosen and trusted knew the best way for her to protect her people. But she couldn't do that any longer. She couldn't close her eyes and turn her mind away from how much she would lose if things went badly. Not this time.
There were always guards at her doors since Prince Ralse had moved in, ready to start following her around at any moment if she chose to leave her rooms. As long as she stayed on the upper levels of the castle, high enough that any attempts at escaping through a window would surely end in her breaking her neck, they would stay well behind, but she knew that they never really left.
They were playing a game of cards when she opened her door, but the moment they noticed her they shoved themselves to their feet and stood to attention. "Could I ask one of you to take a message to Prince Ralse?" she asked. "I would like to speak with him tonight, if possible."
They exchanged an uncertain look, but seemed to decide that it would hardly make a difference if she only had a single guard watching her. She was just one unarmed girl, after all. "Of course, M'lady," one mumbled, the first words any of them had spoken to her in the entire time that she'd been kept a prisoner in her own home. He gave her a small bow before he turned and began walking towards the nearest staircase.
"Thank you," she called after him, not seeing any sense in denying him the grace of common courtesy, then returned to her room.
The difficulty was, she thought as she waited, that she could never tell just what to make of Prince Ralse. All of the reports they'd received during the war had agreed that he was a terror on the battlefield, and yet he had always been far more gracious to her than many would be towards the last remaining member of a fallen enemy's royal family. From the day he arrived he'd made it perfectly clear that he intended to wed her before he returned to his homeland whether she willed it or no, but so far he hadn't tried to force her to so much as be his partner for a single dance while living within her castle. He kept her imprisoned, yet allowed her as much freedom within the jail itself as he reasonably could.
He always looked stern, but she hoped, desperately, that all these things were signs of a kind heart hidden beneath his appearance. There had been far too much bloodshed already for any kind-hearted person to truly desire more of it.
Ralse came to her rooms instead of summoning her, which was a surprise although perhaps it should not have been. By the very next day the castle would surely be filled to the brim with gossip about how he'd been spotted going to or from her chambers in the dark of the night; rumors which could only make him look better in the eyes of his men.
She didn't waste time with greetings, dropping to her knees and prostrating herself before him the moment the door shut behind him. She knew that her father and brothers would have despised her for degrading herself before an enemy in such a way, but they had to a one been left dead in the mud during the war and their thoughts no longer mattered. She would do what she must to preserve her last loved one.
"I asked you here to beg of you, Your Highness, please spare Draco's life." She kept her eyes facing the floor, not daring to look up and see his reaction to her words.
"Release the coward who chose to attack me at ball filled with innocent civilians rather than find me on the battleground?" Maria heard him walking closer to her and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. "What then, Princess? Do you think my heart might have been moved by the love you displayed towards one and other tonight? Are you hoping that I might allow you to just run off with him to live happily ever after?"
"No. No, I'm not that much of a fool, Prince Ralse. But no one besides your own people saw him here tonight. My people need never know that their hero survived the war after all. You will lose nothing if you only send him into exile instead of taking his life."
"Nothing now, perhaps, but any exile, however distant, can be escaped by a suitably determined man if luck is on his side. And what would I have to gain by opening myself to this possible future attack?"
Maria took a deep breath, steeled her will, and at last looked up to meet his eyes. "A wife, her hand freely given for all of her people to see."
o 0 O 0 o
When Ralse had Draco brought before him early the next morning Maria sat in the throne of the queen, kept empty since her mother had died of pneumonia six years before. The moment she placed her hand on the armrest Ralse covered it with his own; she knew that he meant it as a silent jab at Draco, and perhaps a sign to the others in the room that things truly were going well for him, but she allowed it.
Maria had never really noticed before just how massive the throne room was. Every time that she'd had cause to be there in the past it had been filled with people. Her father, her mother had used to say when Maria was a child, should have been born a showman, he so loved having a crowd watching his every move; anyone from servants ducking unobtrusively around the outer edges of the crowds when there was need of them, to guards in their clinking armor, to the noblewomen in shimmering skirts that filled the area around them. With so many people to watch, the room that held them all had hardly been worth noticing.
There was no crowd that morning. Maria knew that would change as the day progressed, although there would never be as many people as there had been in her father's day, but Ralse had only brought his own most trusted soldiers to watch as the business of Draco was taken care of. Of her own people, Ralse had allowed her to have her chancellor, already so beguiled by the ways of the East that there was no need to fear he would spread rumors about Draco's return, stand by her side, but no one else. The room stretched out so vastly before them that Maria could almost imagine there were creatures lurking in the shadows on the opposite end, where they were just too far away for her to make out what was hidden there. Demons, come to watch as she sold her soul for the sake of her love.
Draco was wrapped in far more chains then were needed to hold any man captive, no matter how great a soldier they were. Some jailor of Ralse's must have delighted at the thought of weighing down the hero of the West until he had to struggle just to move, but Draco made a fool of his efforts. Though anyone who knew him would be able to see that he walked far more slowly than usual, and the iron binding him clinked with every movement, he held his back as straight as ever and managed to make his slow walk look like a deliberately measured pace instead of a struggle against the weight he carried. Even in prison rags and chains he had more grace than Ralse's men in their gleaming armor.
Only Prince Ralse came close to matching him. Although Maria hated to admit it, he did have a kingly air about him as he looked down upon Draco from his throne, his face stern as he prepared to cast judgment upon him. "Sir Draco, 'hero' of the West," he said when Draco stood before him. "For the sake of my country, and the good men who died by your sword, I should by all rights put you to death. However, Princess Maria seems to have some lingering fondness left from the friendship of your youth, and she asked me so sweetly to show you mercy that I found myself moved. You should go down on your knees and thank her, as it is for her sake that I have decided to sentence you to exile instead of the beheading you deserve. A wedding gift, to my dear affianced bride."
Draco lunged forward at Ralse's words, but his strangled shout was drowned out by the sudden excited buzz of conversation among the guards and Maria's chancellor hovering over her asking, "Is this true, Your Highness? Have you finally accepted Prince Ralse's hand?"
Ralse raised his free hand to silence the room, a rare small smile turning up the corners of his lips. "I have called only my best and most loyal men to me this morning, so you might be the first to hear this happy news. Princess Maria and I shall be wed on midsummer's day, and the East and West shall truly become one at last. I trust that none of you will let rumor's of the butcher Draco's survival leave this room to taint this time of celebration."
The cheers of his men filled the room, but Maria's attention remained fixed on Draco. He was doing his best to struggle forward against the guards and chains holding him back. "Maria," he said hoarsely, his eyes holding hers, "Maria, tell me that his words are lies. Tell me that you would not do this."
Forcing her expression to turn distant and hard was the hardest thing Maria had ever done, but the pressure of Ralse's hand on the back of her own helped her keep focus, the rough sword calluses she could feel on his palm reminding her that the same sword that formed them would be brought down on Draco's neck if she didn't keep her end of their bargain.
"I'm sorry, Sir Draco," she said, trying to force all emotion out of her voice, "but you must understand; I was a child when I knew you, and it was with a child's heart that I cared for you. Now I am a woman grown, and have long since put away fantasies that a princess might ever be allowed to wed a common knight."
She could see at once that he didn't believe what she was saying. Even after so long apart, he knew her too well to be fooled quickly by a lie. "Maria, if you are doing this for me then I beg you not to. Imagine how your family would feel, if they could know you've chosen to wed the man who led the war which killed them."
"Do you truly believe they would have been any happier to see me marry you?" she snapped, hoping that feigning anger might convince him where coldness failed. "My father may have claimed that he would gladly give you my hand come the end of the war, but he would have said anything to ensure that he had your sword safely on his side. I promise you, Draco, that they would be happier to see me wed an enemy prince than a common soldier."
"Maria--"
This time Maria cut him off before he could even attempt to make his argument. "I would thank you to remember your place and not address me so informally," she said, then turned her face away from him so he couldn't see the sorrow that she couldn't keep from her face at her next words. "Be sure to flog him for his impertinence before he leaves the city."
From the satisfied look on Prince Ralse's face she guessed that this final order had at last made Draco begin to doubt her, but she dared not look back at him to judge for herself. Thankfully, this wasn't a problem for much longer.
"I believe that we're done here," Ralse told the guards. "He must not be allowed to upset Princess Maria any further. Take him to Captain Walse at the docks in Milta; I've already sent a message instructing him what to do with the prisoner. And be sure to carry out your Lady's orders before he leaves your hands."
Maria waited until she could no longer hear the sound of clattering armor and jangling chains moving away from her before she finally pulled her hand out from under Ralse's. "Would you excuse me, Your Highness?" she asked. "I need a moment to collect myself after that unpleasantness."
"Of course," he said. "See that you're well-rested before this evening. Everyone must see how happy you are when we officially announce our engagement."
"No one will be able to doubt my joy, Your Highness," she said with a curtsy, forcing herself to smile brightly for the sake of the guards still posted in the room. She then turned to her chancellor. "Please come with me. I would like another eye to help me decide on what to wear for the announcement."
"As you wish, Highness," he said, bowing to Ralse himself before following her out of the room. "I'm so happy that you've finally seen the folly of continuing to deny Prince Ralse, Princess," he said once they were alone. "Your people will be just as glad. You know that I loved your father as dearly as you did, Your Highness, but our country is already flourishing more under the rule of the East than it has in years under his hand. Casting Draco aside is the best thing you could do for your people, I promise you."
"I'll never cast Draco aside," she said, keeping her eyes fixed on the hallway before her. "As long as he has his life, he'll come back for me before the wedding. I know he will."
o 0 O 0 o
The beating itself didn't matter. His body was already so covered in wounds that a few more bruises were nothing to him, a slight ache in the midst of all the pain.
The pain had never mattered before either. Any amount of suffering was worth bearing if it meant he was still alive to return to her. He would have struggled on through anything, anything at all, to return to her side.
He had never once imagined that she might no longer want him there.
They removed the chains that bound him before throwing him onto the back of a chocobo, caring more for the animal's comfort than his own, but even once his legs were free and his hands restrained only by rope he didn't try raising a fight. He didn't even try turning the bird from the road and escaping on it. All the fight within him had been for protecting Maria, and it had drained away the moment she turned her face away and ordered him beaten. Now he so numbly followed every instruction the enemy soldiers surrounding him gave him that they soon stopped even bothering to keep a sharp eye on him, instead settling into conversations to amuse themselves on the long morning's ride to Milta.
If the ocean had been close to the capital, he would have gone onto the ship like that without a care and been too far from the shore to do anything once the numbness finally began to wear away. As it was, they were still a good hour away from the port town when his mind finally began thinking clearly again.
It started with a single stray thought. I thought she seemed so happy to see me at the ball last night.
That soon led to, No, she was so happy to see me at the ball last night.
And then, all at once, the realization that he was being a fool came crashing over him.
He had known what she was doing. The moment the prince had announced their engagement he'd known, and he'd let his shock that Maria would actually order their enemies to harm him cloud his mind. But of course she would do that, his dear clever princess. She would have done anything it took to silence his arguments and see him safely dragged from the castle, just as he would have done anything to protect her.
He had to return to her, before she could ruin her life for his sake. Even as he realized that, he devised a plan.
He let himself tumble from the back of his chocobo and lay still where he fell, trying to keep himself looking as blank and numb as he had been since leaving the castle.
His guards had written him off after the long day he'd spent absent from his mind, it seemed, men who'd been so cautious of him just that morning now stomping over to him without even resting their hands on their swords. It was ridiculously easy for Draco to throw the first of them to reach him off balance with a swing of his foot, and tear the sword from the soldier's sheath as he lunged to his feet.
It was awkward to hold the sword with bound hands, but he had fought off more men in worse circumstances in the past, and he knew that he'd be able to saw the rope from his wrists as soon as he had a moment to relax. All he had to do was get the guards to back off a little.
He raised the sword to make his first true attack against them, but before he had the chance to strike a crossbow bolt shot out of the surrounding forest and buried itself in his leg.
Even as he fell another bolt struck him in the arm, the pain of it forcing him to drop his stolen sword. As men in the dusty green camouflage of ranger's uniforms on the backs of equally green chocobos began to appear through the underbrush, Draco realized that he'd never even had a chance.
"Prince Ralse thought you might pull something like that," one of the ranger's said, hoisting him easily to his feet. "Sorry about this, friend, but you've just gone and ruined your chance of a light sentence."
o 0 O 0 o
The night went wonderfully. If Princess Maria's smile was a little strained, or her eyes a little sad, nobody noticed it in the midst of the great swell of excitement that filled the castle as soon as the announcement was made. Although it goaded Ralse a bit to allow Draco to go free, even if that freedom would be confined to an empty island far from any shipping routes, it was worth it to see his men begin to relax a little at long last. Tensions had been running higher than ever after the attack on the ball the night before, but with the princess clearly accepting him as her husband of her own free will his hold on the country became much more secure.
If nothing else, there would be less chance of fools rushing the castle in attempts to "rescue" her. He wondered at times precisely what the thought he was doing that she would need rescuing from; she spent enough of her time wandering the castle walls that anyone with concerns could stand just beyond the moat outside and see for themselves that she was healthy without too long of a wait. They could even attempt to holler a conversation with her if they were brave enough to draw the attention of the gate guards to themselves.
But it hardly mattered what monstrous beliefs they had about him anymore. He would have all the time in the world to win them over once he was their king; no more rushing to attempt to soften their impressions of the East before his father called him home. Even Maria's heart would turn to him in the end, he was sure of it. She couldn't long for her lost soldier forever.
There was a knock on the door, and he glanced up from the letter he'd been writing to inform his father of his news. "Enter," he called out.
"The Royal Chancellor is here asking to see you, Your Highness," the guard who opened the door said.
"Allow him in," Ralse said, setting the letter aside. He knew that the man was Maria's only confidant, and may have come bringing a message from her.
The chancellor must have been waiting just outside, because he skittered through the door almost as soon as Ralse had finished speaking. Even from where Ralse was sitting he could see that his breathing was agitated, his eyes darting constantly around the room without ever settling on anything. "Your Highness," he said, then seemed to remember himself and bobbed a quick bow before starting again. "Your Highness, it makes me sick to do this to the Princess, but for the good of the country I have no other choice. You must know that she has no intention of marrying you; she believes that Draco will return for her before the day of the wedding."
"I see," Ralse said, pushing himself to his feet. "Thank you for informing me. I knew there was the possibility that she might be thinking such a thing, but I did hope that I was wrong." He stepped past the chancellor and leaned out the door, gesturing for the guards to join him. "Men, please see this man to the dungeons. Make sure that he has the most comfortable available cell, and good food and drink, but see that the prison guards know that he's not to be set free even if Princess Maria tries ordering it."
The chancellor's face blanched, and he stumbled over his feet in his haste to back away from the advancing guards. "Your Highness must be making a joke, yes?" he babbled forcing an almost hysterical-sounding laugh as he tried to get away. "I'm on your side! You wouldn't send an ally to the cells!"
"I am truly sorry for this," Ralse told him, "and I'll be sure that my men treat you well. I am grateful for the information you've brought me, but only a fool would trust a proven traitor with a place in his court."
When he returned to his desk, Ralse picked up the letter he'd been writing and threw it into the fire. It was clear that he'd need to change his plans.
o 0 O 0 o
Act Three
It was the middle of the night when a pounding on her door woke her, but her sleep had been so uneasy that she hardly cared.
As she sleepily stumbled her way to the door, she tried to push away the hope that she might find Draco waiting on the other side. Surely she would have been woken up if there'd been a fight with the guards right outside of her room, wouldn't she? And even if Draco had escaped so quickly, he would be wise enough to wait until Ralse thought him well away from the kingdom before making his move instead of returning that very night, wouldn't he?
Even knowing these things, she felt a sting of disappointment in her heart when she opened the door and saw Prince Ralse waiting there.
"Your Highness?" she said, frowning at him in her confusion. "Is there something you need?"
"Come with me," he told her, grabbing her wrist and beginning to pull her down the hallway with him without even waiting to hear her response.
"Prince Ralse!" she exclaimed, trying to yank her arm out of his grasp. "What are you doing? I don't even have a robe on over my nightclothes, this isn't proper--"
"What isn't proper, Princess, is making a deal you have no intention of keeping. I did exactly as I promised, yet still I hear that you intend to flee me before the day of our wedding. How should I respond to that?"
Maria's eyes widened and she whispered to herself, "I can't believe it... that rat."
"I hope that you didn't have your heart set on a state wedding, Princess, because you are about to be disappointed. Two young fools, so eager to be wed that they run off and elope in the middle of the night... My father will not be pleased, but he'll forgive it so long as you are the one I elope with. We'll still have the summer ceremony, but everyone will know that it's only for show as we'll already be man and wife."
"'Elope?'" she repeated, then redoubled her attempts to pull away from him. "No! I can't!"
He paused, and let her wrist slip away just long enough to switch his grasp to her hand. "I will be a good husband to you, Maria," he said, his eyes hidden in shadow. "You might think me cruel now, but this will be best for both of us, for both of our people, in the long run. Consider that before you try to fight me."
And then he began to pull her along again.
o 0 O 0 o
She'd thought that he would take her to the castle's chapel, but instead he loaded her into a chariot and set out for the countryside. "Your priest would be more likely to refuse to perform the service," he said when she asked him why.
He stopped the carriage before it was within sight of the church that he'd chosen, so nobody who happened to see them enter would see its rich decorations and guess at their identity. Both of them and the footmen carried kerosene lamps to light their way, pretty glass things that they must have grabbed from the castle in their hurry instead of proper travel lamps, but she still kept tripping over rocks and roots hidden by the shadows at her feet as they walked to the building. She thought that he must have sent a message ahead for the priest to be ready for them, because as soon as it was within eyesight she could see through its windows that the church was blazing with candlelight.
The priest met them at the door, smiling at both of them. "My, you must have been in a rush to get here," he said, glancing over Maria's sodden-hemmed nightgown.
"We just couldn't wait another moment longer, Father," Ralse said, gently pushing Maria forward with a hand on her back. "Is everything ready?"
"Of course! You would be surprised at how accustomed we are at dealing with elopements. It seems that many young people feel that they won't be caught if they flee to a church so out of the way."
"And with such understanding and accommodating clergymen," Ralse added. "Has our guest already arrived? I sent him ahead of us."
"Oh yes, yes," the priest said, nodding and gesturing to the door leading back into the chapel. "He waits near the alter."
"Good," Ralse said, then turned to her. "Come, Maria. I believe that any doubts you still have about going through with this wedding will be silenced soon enough."
She had no choice but to follow him with his footmen pressing up close behind her, their hands on the knives they wore. Her doubts would be silenced? She had no doubts, she thought as she stepped through the door, no doubts that she would refuse to go through with her portion of the wedding ceremony if at all possible. There was nothing he could say or do that would make her change her mind.
Or so she thought.
The chapel blazed with so many candles that for a moment her eyes were too dazzled to even make out the guest that Ralse had mentioned, but when she finally saw him she almost screamed. "Draco!"
There were more bruises on him than he'd had that morning, his left eye was swollen shut and his arm and leg were both wrapped in bloody bandages that nobody had bothered to change when they started to seep. She started towards him, but at her first step the man standing beside him lifted his blade and pressed it to Draco's neck.
"You chided me for planning to break my promise when you never carried out your own?" she cried out, whirling towards Ralse. "How dare you!"
"Leave us. You may wait by the coach," he told the footmen, not seeming the least bit bothered by her anger. The moment the door closed behind them he told her, "I kept my end of our bargain, Princess. It is your Sir Draco who attempted to escape rather then accept his sentence. Luckily I asked my rangers to shadow him until he was safely out to sea and out of our lives, and they stopped him before he could seriously injure any of my men. A new crime requires a new sentencing, and so they returned him to me. He only returned after I'd already learned of your treachery."
"And now you intend to kill him to punish me for breaking our agreement, so there will be no one left who I'd wish to marry before you," she guessed, her eyes filling with tears.
He closed his eyes for a moment, a small furrow appearing on his forehead. "No, Maria. Please, last night you put enough faith in me over whatever wartime propaganda you were fed to try making your deal in the first place, so at least try to believe that I'm not constantly planning to hurt you at every turn. Keep your end of the bargain, now, and I will still keep mine. And this time he will be sent off knowing that you've truly been lost him."
She bowed her head, defeated. "As you wish, Your Highness."
He led her to the alter, her arm in his, and they set the lamps they still carried to the side of the aisle. "We're ready," Ralse said to the priest, and Maria couldn't resist glaring at the small smiling man as he settled himself before them. She had thought that he seemed kind at the entrance to the church, had thought that perhaps she might find an ally in him, but here he was looking just as cheerful with an injured man with a sword to his neck before him as he had been talking about young lovers.
He began to sing, the rolling joyous verses of the traditional wedding hymn a joke to her ears given the circumstances. As the ceremony demanded she stood facing Ralse, but she turned her head to watch Draco, who was staring back at her with enraged eyes.
She'd thought that there was nothing he'd be able to do, but when the song reached the point where the bride and groom were meant to join in, their voices joining in harmony just as their lives would in the future, he bellowed and flung himself forward against the edge of the sword.
The guard holding him obviously hadn't expected him to purposely injure himself in an attempt to escape, and fell forward at the sudden weight on his arm. It was all of the opening Draco needed to wrench the sword from his hand and run the soldier through, apparently oblivious to the blood streaming down his chest from the wound he'd given himself.
Maria could see that the sword was unsteady in his hand, but there was still strength behind it as he lunged forward, blade extended.
Ralse stepped easily to the side, and drew his own sword to stab Draco through his back even as Draco's sword buried itself in the priest's stomach.
Maria didn't scream. She didn't cry. All she could do was stand there, her breath coming in harsh pants, as she stared down at the body of the man she loved.
"I gave him every chance I could," Ralse said, and she stumbled back when he tried to approach her. "You watched everything I did, Maria. You saw that I bent over backwards to try allowing him to live. But there were no options left once he raised a sword against me."
"Yes," she said numbly, turning her gaze to her own feet to try and escape the sight of Draco's corpse, or Ralse's pleading eyes. Their lamps were sitting there, she saw. "You had no other options."
"That's right. I am sorry, Maria. I never meant to break my promise to you this way."
"Yes. I know. You never meant to." She looked back up at him and smiled, her eyes blank. "There is one thing you could do for me instead, Prince Ralse."
"You know that I can't just let you go, if that's what you mean to ask."
"I know that too. It's not what I want to ask." She knelt down, and picked up the lamps. She could see the reflections of the candles that filled the room glinting in their glass bases. "I'd like you to be the one to light Draco's funeral pyre," she said, then shattered the lamps over his head, sending the kerosene splattering down his body.
"Maria," he shouted, staggering backwards. Before he could do anything else, she pushed the nearest candelabra over onto him, setting the oil alight.
He screamed terribly as his flesh caught fire, flailing wildly as he tried to put out the flames but only succeeding in falling into more candles. He didn't even seem to notice her as she walked over to where Draco and the priest were lying.
The sword still stuck out of Draco's back and she needed to pry it out, wincing each time her yanking jostled his body. It was heavier than she'd expected, but that hardly mattered. Ralse had fallen to the floor in his attempts to smother the fire, only succeeding in spreading it to the carpet. She wouldn't need to lift it far.
"You tried to have mercy on him," she whispered, too low to be heard over his screams, "so I'll show it to you as well." She did her best to aim for his heart in spite of his flailing as she lifted the sword high, then drove it downwards with all the strength she could muster.
The fire was everywhere now, spreading from fallen candles as much as from Ralse, but she made no attempt to flee. Instead she carefully rolled Draco off of the priest, and touched his face with gentle fingers. "You did it, Draco," she murmured to him. "The Commander Prince of the East is dead, and it's because of you. It's all because of you, the great hero of the West."
She kissed him once, softly, then rested her head on his chest as the flames rose high above them.
