Gaeli sashayed her way through the camp, her hair hanging limply from her head, like an ink streaked mop. Her eyes drooped. I need more sleep. Her arms ached from holding the bow and arrow, and her nostrils contracted as the pungent odor of rotting slug drifted through the air.

Nightwing's tent was just ahead. She needed to see him. Something told her that she just needed to see him.

Wailing came from the distance. A mother, screaming for her baby, a child, screaming for its mother...It was always the same. Light from the lava pools were reflected in Gaeli's armor, making her look as if she were on fire. Her glowing shape moved slowly, the delicacy of her beauty amplified ten thousand times as she walked. She didn't seem to notice how flattering her tired look was; it made her seem relaxed and mature.

Nightwing's tall silhouette hovered inside the tent. Gaeli knocked against the rough fabric. Nightwing's head peeked out. He looked scared.

"Ace, what is it?"

"It's...bad. Come in."

"Okay..." Gaeli followed Nightwing into his tent. His living quarters were smaller than most others; he refused to accept special treatment. He preferred to stay at the same level as his minions, something that he must have gotten from living in the Wastelands all his life. His parents would have raised more than an eyebrow if they had seen him "at the level of the people". Gaeli sat down on the rickety bed and winced at the squeak.

"Here," Nightwing sighed, handing Gaeli a piece of paper. She took it and read:

I saw you and Ravess's daughter. Stay away from her, if you value your throne, and her life. You have been warned.

"Oh, this is bad."

"What tipped you off?" Nightwing moaned. "I don't know what to do. I love you Gaeli--"

"You do?" she asked, flattered. He blushed.

"Yeah, I do. And maybe I won't be able to anymore. But it's not just my throne. My throne is a hunk of volcanic rock on top of the coughed up guts of my people. But...your life. I won't risk that. We can't be seen together anymore."

"We can't?" Gaeli gasped. "But...I like you. I love you. I want to have fun with you. I've known you all my life."

"But I can't let you get hurt. Who knows what this person is capable of?"

"Haydon. He did it. He's power hungry, and mean, and just...There's got to be a way out of this! We don't have to break up."

"Were we ever together?" Nightwing muttered. Gaeli stood, and her face had a depressed look on it. Her golden eyes looked ready to overflow.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what else to do. There must be a way...but I'm just not smart enough to find it."

"Well...kiss me."

"What?" Nightwing said, his eyebrows shooting up. Gaeli smirked as she walked over, her hips swaying seductively.

"Kiss me."

"Oh. Oka--mph." Gaeli had leaned in and kissed him. His arms stuck out at odd angles from shock, but he smiled and pulled her close after a while. She leaned against his chest and he fell onto the floor, her tongue running smoothly against his lip. She moaned softly as his hands found her hair, fisting it gently, his fingers massaging her scalp. Nightwing felt as if heaven had found him. His lungs suddenly rebelled, and he was forced to gently roll her aside.

"Wow," Gaeli said, panting. Her sweet breath floated against his face.

"Wowza is more like it," he exclaimed.

"Too bad it was the last one. And I had to take the lead again."

"Well, 'Tis better to have loved and lost, then never loved at all.'"

"Oh great. You're a poetry geek."

"No, I am not..."

"But you're my geek."

"It's good to know that. You should go. It's almost time for your mom's funeral."

"Oh, right." Gaeli stood and helped Nightwing up. He smiled gently. They left separately, Gaeli leaving first, but not without a tiny wave. Nightwing grinned foolishly. As soon as she was gone, he plopped onto the bed and hit himself a few times before walking into the Wastelands.


Haydon was fumbling with his papers when Nightwing knocked.

"Majesty," he muttered as Nightwing came in.

"Haydon, who gave you this?" Nightwing snarled as soon as his foot was over the threshold. He was holding the letter, waving it about frantically.

"I do not see how who gave you the letter has to do with the contents, sire," Haydon said.

"Oh, so you know what is in here, then! You know that some creep is trying to blackmail me off of the seat of Cyclonia! Has threatened my friend with her life!" Nightwing barked. Haydon stood stock still.

"I do not see--ACK!"

Nightwing had charged forward, grabbed the man's collar, and pressed him against the tent wall. The structure creaked eerily. Haydon was cowering, his beady eyes darting from Nightwing to the sword he had pulled out.

"Who...was...IT?" Nightwing growled, emphasizing every syllable with another jerk.

"I swear, I don't know! I found the letter on my desk with your name on it!" Haydon shrieked.

"When?" Nightwing said, giving Haydon a shake.

"This morning, while you were still sleeping!" Haydon whimpered. "I know nothing else!"

"Hmph." Nightwing let Haydon's shriveled body crumple to the floor, the adviser squeaking like a rat. Nightwing threw the man another dirty glare before marching out of the tent and towards the lava pits. It was time for the funeral.