Mara waved her hands over Walter's pale, prone form as Ben, Rina and Kalin knelt by him, concerned looks gracing all the faces present. The dog whined in the background and Rina shot him a gentle smile as if to assuage his fears.

"How is he?" Ben asked. "Is he going to make it?" His fist clenched slightly, distressed by thoughts of Walter coming so far, only to die abroad in his dreams. The priestess was stressed, moving rhythmically above the soldier, and she didn't look happy.

"I do not know. The darkness is deep within him. Few ever wake," she warned.

"But he's improving, I mean you're doing your thing and he's getting better, right?" Ben asked, and a hint of begging slipped into his tone. Not Walter. Not out here. Not after all this.

"I do not wish to give you false hope," the priestess sighed.

"Perhaps it would be better if we allowed him to rest," Kalin suggested.

"Don't worry," Ben assured Rina, who wore that gut-wrenching gentle look on her face. "He's a tough old nut. He'll pull through."

And then Walter coughed like the dying and opened his eyes, and Rina tried not to sob out his name.

"Oh balls to you all," he growled exhaustedly. "You're not burying me just yet!"

"See?" Ben said proudly. "I told you!"

"Yes," Walter snorted, "shame my first sight had to be your ugly mug."

"I'm sorry I left you," Rina apologised. He shook his head.

"You did all you could, and don't think I don't know it!" he said, with the barest hint of reproach for thinking so. "I told you you'd make me proud."

They helped him sit up, and Rina threw her arms around him, sobbing openly into his shirt. Walter held her tightly.

"Nobody ever gives me hugs," Ben grumbled.

"That's because you've got red on you," Walter informed him.

"It's dry! Very dry! And old!" he protested. The princess drew back from Walter, wiping her red eyes, and gave Ben a tearful smile.

"I don't know," she said, her voice thick and choked as she tried to fight her way back to humour, "he did send out a search party for us rather than completely lose his head."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Ben huffed.

"I mean it." She squeezed his hand. "I don't know if I'd've been so calm in your situation."

"I had to find you, didn't I?" he chuckled, as Walter swung his legs over the edge of the stone bed and shook.

"I'm glad you did," she said softly. "Walter!" she cried, as the man pitched a little. "Are you all right?"

"It takes more than an ancient evil to knock me down," Walter growled.

"You should go back to bed," Rina told him.

"No. I need to feel fresh air on my face," he informed her. "Lead me to the door and leave me for a bit."

"I'm not letting you out of my sight," Rina stated stubbornly.

"Damn it, girl," Walter cursed. "I want to be in the open. I'll be fine."

"I will watch him," Kalin promised. "You must rest, princess. You seem exhausted."

"I'm too awake to sleep," she said.

"Doesn't matter. Go to bed," Ben persuaded. Rina eyed the spare bed, her dog already curled up next to it.

"All right."


It was just before dawn when Rina began to stir, distressed noises that alerted Ben. Peering around the door, he watched her fingers twitch in the bedclothes, approaching hurriedly as he unshouldered his rifle and leaned over her, grabbing her hand gently. Noises became words, Elliot, useless, lost, mother, dark, dissolving into a high cry that stopped short when he pulled her up into a sitting position, waking her up immediately. She fixed him with huge, terrified eyes, chocolate hair falling around her shoulders as she panted in fright, hand on her forehead.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. "It was just a nightmare. Did I disturb your sleep?"

"I was looking around the temple, love," he placated. "I wasn't asleep. Anything I can do?"

"It's cold," she noted.

"Bloody boiling during the day, but freezes your arse off during the night," Ben muttered. "Do you need a blanket or something?"

"No," she murmured. "I will be fine."

"Oh come off it. Page will string me up if we get back to Bowerstone and you're a solid mass of icicles," he said. "Take my jacket at least."

He unbuttoned the heavy red garment and she let him slide it around her shoulders, enjoying the remnant of his body heat still lingering on the fabric.

"Thank you," she said gently. "It's very kind of you."

"I only offer my friends my clothes," he informed her. "I'm just being a good friend."

"You are a good friend," she told him earnestly. "The best a princess could hope for."

"Soon, it'll be the best friend a queen could ever have," he chuckled, rubbing her shoulder comfortingly. "If you don't mind me prodding, what was your nightmare about?"

"I watched everything being covered by the Darkness," she sighed. "And my mother's voice, nagging in the back of my head, berating me as a useless Hero. I knew it was a dream because she never nagged me, and Elliot was screaming at me and he never raised his voice at me. But…it was still so real, and it hurt to watch everything turn into blackness." She paused. "What if I can't do it, Ben?"

"I've seen you take down a warehouse of Elite," he told her. "You're going to do fine."

"And if I don't?"

"You will. It's your destiny or something."

"Very comforting."

"I am a man of many talents."

Moonlight fell across her forlorn face and he pulled her a little closer, ensuring that she stayed warm.

"You don't get enough hugs," she said softly, slipping her arm around his waist. "I guarantee everyone in Bowerstone is going to be lining up to hug you to death once we take the castle."

"Death?" he said, fake-afraid, and she smiled.

"Maybe not death. I need a new major in the army," she amended. Ben paused.

"And you think I could do it?" he asked.

"Why not? You're respected, well-loved, and you've got a good rapport with the men. Plus, you're from the old guard and a hero of the revolution – or you will be – and I wouldn't trust anyone else. Unless," she stopped, "do you want to stay in the army?"

"Major Ben Finn," he stated. "Sounds nice. Do I have to pose for a fancy picture?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Completely off the table," he decided firmly. "Nope. Leaving the military forever."

The princess laughed.

"A perk of the job," she lamented. "What colour should my clothes be when I'm crowned?"

"You looked nice in blue," he mused. "It would certainly contrast with all Logan's purple. I'm pretty sure the castle staff is sick of purple now."

"Blue it is," she decided.

They sat in silence for a few more minutes, enjoying the warmth curled up together, and Ben absentmindedly stroked her hair before realising what he was doing, and he pulled his hand down.

"Try and get some rest, princess," he urged. "We've all got a long few days ahead of us."

He moved away slowly, shooting her a comforting grin as he tried not to wince at the immediate cold that bit into him without his jacket.

"Keep it," he said, when she offered it back.

"Ben, come back here," she ordered. "I can fall asleep fine, but you're freezing cold."

"As her majesty commands," he replied, moving back over to her, kicking off his shoes and sliding down next to her. "Rather improper."

"It's harmless. We're just cold," she told him. "Kieran."

The dog got up and lay draped over them, and Ben felt the dog's heat spreading over his body like a wave. It was wonderful. Rina curled an arm around her trusted companion, and cocooned in warmth, feeling safe, she finally fell asleep.


"Well," Walter rumbled, standing pensively on the docks, "we didn't exactly find the army we were looking for, and I feel about a hundred years older than when we left, but we're finally ready." He smiled at her proudly. "You've surpassed every hope I had for you. You're the queen Albion needs. So come on, it's time to gather your generals, and prepare for battle!"

The blue-clad princess put on her mask and dusted herself off, smiling at Ben as he climbed aboard the ship.

"You know, maybe I'll take a little nap first," Walter mused.

"You do that," Rina agreed. "How are you feeling?" she asked her captain, as Walter made his way down the stairs.

"Bothersomely hot," he replied. "In hindsight, maybe you should've kept the jacket."

"Then I'd burn alive," she pointed out.

"And we can't let that fair face of yours do that before you've been crowned," he agreed. "Or after. Or in between. Or frankly at all."

"Shut up Ben," she giggled.