She didn't care, Juno told herself. She wasn't upset in the slightest.

She sat kicking her feet petulantly in the fountain, nursing a glass of sweet red Empire wine. She wasn't upset, she told herself again. Even after what she'd heard him say to that scruffy, skinny little slave girl.

Love. Ha! It was just a word. So many men had kissed their dowdy wives and told them that they'd loved them, then crept out and tried to court her. She'd heard the word 'love' more times than she could count. It meant nothing, she thought. She didn't care.

Still...it did smart a bit. Why was he wasting his affections on some foul-mouthed, uncultured peasant girl, when she was practically in his lap? Was he blind?

Juno poured herself another glass of good Empire wine, suddenly homesick for the rolling sunlit hills of her home. It was too dark here, she thought, annoyed. If she wasn't careful, she was going to lose her tan.

"Mistress Juno." She heard the jingle of bells. "Why do you look so sad?"

"I'm not sad," she snapped. "I'm never sad. I'm fabulous."

Quaver crept closer, crouched in front of her, strange yellow eyes goggling up at her.

"You can tell me, Mistress." He giggled. "I can keep a secret."

"What does he see in that Norbergian bitch, anyways?" Juno asked. "The way he acts around her- it's disgusting! I think he thinks he loves her!"

"Kelda?" Quaver blinked, nonplussed. "Oh, and here I thought that the Master had good taste." He rocked back, scratching at his ear like a dog, bells ringing. "I don't like that one. She throws things at me. She has very good aim."

"I'm sure it's nothing to worry about," Juno said, trying to reassure herself. "I mean, he'll come around eventually. They always do."

"Hmm." Quaver tilted his head, looking at her.

"What?"

"It's just...sometimes I think the Master is a little bit too much like his father. 'Love', feh. Overlords shouldn't love. They should hate, and be hated, and feared."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, his father just looooved his Mistress Rose." Quaver sniffed, clasping his hands to his heart. "Mistress Rose said he shouldn't roast the villagers, because it wouldn't be efficient, and before you knew it, happy little peasants were frolicking all throughout the land. Mistress Rose said he shouldn't burn Everlight to a crisp because he should think of the revenue, and suddenly we're up to our necks in elves! Mistress Rose this, Mistress Rose that- it was all quite disgusting, really!"

"Who's Mistress Rose?" Juno asked, confused.

"You should really nip this whole 'love' thing in the bud, if you want my advice," Quaver said. "It's entirely too distracting. Leads to less proper Overlording, all around."

"Well, I agree with you, of course, but what should I do? Usually after I've had a man, I can't hardly chase him away. There was one poet who literally starved himself for me! I've never had to deal with...with..."

"Indifference?"

"Oh, he's not indifferent." Juno smirked. "After all, I'm me. But I don't quite have a leash on him yet, and...that's honestly never happened before." She frowned, sipping her wine. "I just don't quite get what he sees in that unkempt, uncouth little creature, either. Why does he seem to favor her?"

"Hmm." Quaver pulled himself up to the bench beside her. "The Master seems to have a fondness for a certain kind of...rough and tumble woman, I think."

"I can be rough and tumble," Juno purred.

"What I mean, Mistress, is not just in bed. A sort of active woman. One who likes to get things done." He looked up at her, considering. "Kelda is a hunter, for example. Maybe you could take up something like that."

"Ew." Juno looked down at her manicured nails. "I'm not really one for getting my hands dirty."

"The question is, Mistress, what do you have to offer the Master?"

"All of this!" Juno cried, gesturing to herself.

"Mistress, you are surpassing lovely...but I think you may need a bit more to get through to the Master."

"Is he crazy?"

"Probably, yes." He giggled again. "All of us are a bit cracked, down here."

"I've given him a way into the Empire," Juno snapped. "What more does he want?"

Quaver shrugged a misshapen shoulder.

"What do all men want, Mistress? Besides the obvious."

"Power," Juno said, after a moment's thought.

"Very good, Mistress. Overlords always want power most of all. Find a way to give him that, and I guarantee that little peasant wench will be out on her arse in an instant."

Juno tapped her manicured fingers against the wine glass, thinking. She remembered overhearing muted conversations among the Elvish slaves in Everlight, dark mutterings about terrible spider-mages in the depths of the jungle, sensual cults in the ancient ruins in the forest. At the time, she hadn't paid them any attention- who cared about what slaves said? But what if there was something to their ramblings?

It looked like she would be paying Everlight a visit once again.

-x-

The first thing he noticed about the Wastelands was the silence.

Even underground, in the depths of the Netherworld, there was the sound of life, whether it was the gibber of minions or the distant bellow of rock trolls. Here in the Wastes, though, there was no sound but the crunch of his boots on the blasted soil, the creak of his armor. He summoned the minions hastily, uneasy in the eerie silence.

They huddled close to him, even their usual exuberance dampened, goggling about warily. He slung his axe over his shoulder, straightening.

"Come on," he commanded, voice unnaturally loud in the dead air.

He led them through the blasted Wastes, stopped short, staring down at the ruins of a vast Dark Tower. He heard Gnarl sigh.

"Ah, the old Tower! This looming fortress was one the source of fear and brown trousers in this land!"

Great golden fangs jutted up from the crown of the Tower, like the teeth of some vast beast. He felt something stirring in his blood as he stared down at it. It would be glorious, he thought, to stand atop that Tower, to glower out over the lands he'd crushed beneath his heel...to crush and subjugate the peasants, drive them kneeling and trembling into its dark depths.

"I want one," he mused. "Gnarl, I'm going to build one of these."

"Careful, Sire. See those puddles? I don't think you should touch them."

He looked over at the glowing blue ooze. It stretched across the expanse of the Wastes, blocking his path down to the Tower. There was something strangely familiar about it.

"Really?" he asked sarcastically. "I was going to bathe in that, actually."

One of the little blues reached out before he could stop it, stuck a webbed hand into the muck. The air shimmered as the ooze evaporated. The little blue stood taller, ear fins fanning out, gurgling happily.

"Interesting," He said. "Well done."

The blue bobbed up and down, chest swelling until it looked about to burst.

He swept the blues forward, clearing through the muck. They splashed into it cheerfully, croaking and cavorting. The other minions followed warily in their wake, huddled together. One of the blues stopped short, ran back to him and tugged at his pant leg, pointing. He followed the direction the webbed hand was pointing, saw a vast fragment of a crystal, flickering fitfully with golden light.

"By my claws, that's a shard of the old Tower Heart!" Gnarl said, surprised.

"The what?"

"The Tower Heart, Sire! It grew in power with its Overlord, reflected his magic with its own. With the old Overlord gone, the magic in it should have been gradually expelled. But it looks like it...exploded for some reason."

"Mysterious explosions. That's always a good sign."

He walked to it, laid a hand against it against his better judgment. Something in it drew him, called to him.

A giant of a man stood swaying in a circle of frantic minions beneath a ruined Tower.

"What is this place?" he asked, clutching his head. "What are you?"

"Master!" The minions were hissing. "Master!"

Gnarl bowed to him, offering him a great black helmet.

"My Lord."

He yanked his hand away, startled. The shard shimmered, vanishing.

"What was that?"

"A shard of the Tower Heart, Sire," Gnarl repeated patiently, and then made a noise of surprise. "Oh, it's made its way to your throne room, Sire! It's so nice to have at least part of it back again...it makes a Dark Fortress seem so much more homey."

"But I saw..." He fell silent. "Never mind."

He followed the blues, thoughtful. The man in the vision had had eyes just like his own.

"Look," he heard Kelda say. "Up ahead! A village!" She caught her breath. "Witch boy, be careful! I just saw someone in there! Someone human!"

"Nonsense!" Gnarl snapped. "Nothing lives here but the plague-tainted. Maybe it was a village once, but I assure you, it's a village no longer!"

"No, she's right," he said slowly, coming closer. "It is a village. That wall's in good repair."

He walked into the silent village, wary. The minions crept closer to him, almost tripping him up as they tried to huddle closer to his legs.

"Hey!"

He turned, startled. A little man stomped out of a ramshackle hut, armed only with a stick. The man looked him up and down, frowning.

"He's tainted," he heard someone whisper. "He's got the Plague!"

The little man prodded him in the chest with the stick. The Overlord stared down at him, amused.

"Hold now, stranger!" he snapped. "Look, we've got enough problems here, without you and your lot of...whatever they are, coming through!"

A woman hurried to his side, whispered something in his ear. He paled, the stick clattering from nerveless fingers.

"The Demon Lord of Nordberg?" he gasped. He fell to his knees. "Please, forgive me, Lord, I didn't know it was you! Have they...have they sent you to finish us off, Lord?"

He tilted his head, staring down at the man.

"Please, don't kill us, Lord! We'll do anything!"

"What is this place?" he asked him. "Who are you people?"

It was the woman who answered. She was staring at him, seemed equal parts fascinated and frightened.

"The Empire sent us here, Lord. Claimed we'd been contaminated by the Plague. Why, I've got about as much magic as a rock, Sire...but I did run an underground printing press, back home."

"And you?"

"All I asked is why we never see the Emperor without his mask on," the man said. "I don't see why they had to haul me off in the dead of night and dump me out here."

"We get by as best we can, my Lord," the woman told him. "There's almost nothing to eat aside from them bloody blue slugs, and we've got to contend with the mutants, but-"

"Mutants?"

"Some of us, well...they eventually got tired of slugs and muddy water, tried to eat that blue ooze. It did something funny to them, sire. Made them go all crazy, and it also made them get real strong, too. We built that wall to keep 'em out."

"I'm going past the wall," he said. "To the Tower."

"Oh." The man blinked up at him. "You're a treasure-hunter, then, ain't you? You're trying to get into that old Tower. Well, I wouldn't do that, if I were you. That valley down there's just crawling with mutants, and the Tower itself is full of some awfully nasty traps."

"Oh, I'd forgotten all about those," he heard Gnarl muse innocently.

"I need a guide."

They looked at each other.

"Ooh, you see, that might be a bit hard to do..." The man said. "Not many of us are too keen on getting torn limb from limb, you see-"

The Overlord sighed, stretched out a hand and lashed his will out, whip-quick, power crackling through their minds. The pair blinked, shaking their heads.

"Of course, we live to serve, my Lord," the man said. "Follow me. We'll have to break through the outer gate to get through, I'm afraid. I'll show you the way."

The woman stared up at him, beaming.

"I think I love you," she said, trailed happily after.

Kelda snorted.

"Arsehole," she said, a smile in her voice.

"Hey, I can't help it! I just have that effect- it's my imposing presence."

"Is that what they're calling it these days? Nobody said you had to take the pretty one with you."

"Nobody said I couldn't!" He grinned. "Besides, I like pretty, tough, capable women. You should know that."

"Flatterer." He heard her drum her fingers. "Then how do you explain Juno, then?"

"Hey! I'm pretty!"

The exiles led him through their ramshackle little village. The minions scampered after a bit more cheerfully, now that there was the possibility of something to smash. People gaped from the shadows, scuttling fearfully out of his way.

"Here, my Lord," the man said solicitously. "Be careful. It's quite dangerous outside the gates."

"Break it down."

The gates splintered open, and the minions poured out.

"Master!"

A blue tugged at his fingers, pointing. He followed it, found himself gazing up at another shard of the Heart. He reached out warily, placed his hand on it, not sure what he would see.

A red-haired woman looked up as the Dark Lord loomed in her doorway, gave him a perfunctory smile.

"Good evening, my Lord. Is there something I can do for you?"

"I wanted to see how you were settling in."

"Quite well, thank you." The woman licked the tip of her quill, writing studiously. "I must...thank you, Sire, for choosing to keep my in your employ, rather than my sister. I can assure you that I am most efficient."

"My employ?" he asked, sounding amused.

"Oh, you know what I mean."

"I have something to show you, Rose."

"Oh?" She looked up, green eyes suspicious. "What is it?"

"It's this way. But...close your eyes."

She gave him an arch look, then smiled.

"Oh, very well, as long as it's not anything nasty."

He led her down the hall, hand on her elbow.

"Look," he said. "In here."

She opened her eyes, looking around a little green garden. She made a small noise of surprise, clapped her hands together, suddenly looking years younger.

"Oh!" she cried. "Oh, how thoughtful!"

She looked up at the Dark Lord, a flush spreading over her cheeks.

"Thank you, Sire."

The shard vanished. He rubbed his fingers together, remembering.

Rose, he thought. His mother's name...it had been Rose.

"Look out, my Lord!"

Something snarled wetly, lurching out of a ruined halfling hovel. It was vaguely humanoid, with milky, empty eyes and skin as dark as a bruise. The little man hurled himself into its path, stick flailing valiantly. The thing bellowed, a meaty paw cleaving through his skull.

"Shit!" The woman hit it in the back of the head with a rock, and it fell with a horrible gurgle. "Let's get out of here, Sire!"

The creatures boiled up from the stones, limping towards them with surprising speed.

"There's too many." He grinned, hands tightening on the shaft of his great black axe. "It's time for some fun, boys. What do you say?"

The minions cheered, flinging themselves into the fray. He joined them, whistling, axe flashing, black blood spraying across the stones.

"Lucky," Kelda muttered. "I wish I could be out there with you."

"But Mistress, you're still wounded!"

He heard her sigh.

"Gnarl, I'm not some flimsy Empire floozy. You don't have to be so protective!"

He kicked a mutant back, stunning it, gestured courteously to the woman.

"Would you like to do the honors?"

She just gaped at him. He shrugged and cleaved it in two as she squeaked, looking pale.

"Your loss."

The woman swallowed, looking like she would be sick, beckoned him forward.

"This way, Master. Be careful."

The woman crept forward, crawling up a ridge, held out her hand.

"I hear something, Sire. Wait here."

She leaned over the ridge, frowning, gestured for him to join her, pointing down at the Imperial Legion gingerly picking their way across the broken wastes.

"Look, my Lord," she whispered. "Empire troops! What are they doing he-"

A black-fletched arrow whistled through the dead air, struck her in the throat. She toppled over without a sound, her eyes wide with shock. The minions howled, sweeping down on the Empire soldiers. He thundered after them with a roar. The Imperials broke and scattered under the assault, going down beneath rangy brown bodies and flashing claws.

He flicked blood from his axe, frowning. It was a shame, he thought. She really had been rather pretty.

"Master!" One of the little blues tugged at his hand, pointing.

He followed its gaze and stood straighter, startled. The strange little elf was standing on a ridge above him, arms akimbo, brilliant stocking cap in eye-searing contrast to the dead lands around him. The elf met his eyes and glared at him, skipping down from the rocks.

"No time for pleasantries...not that I have anything pleasant to say to you!"

The Overlord cocked his head, studying him, bemused. What was he doing here?

"Thanks for your help," he said, sarcastic. "What are you doing out here? Don't you have some pandas you ought to be fondling?"

The elf somehow managed to stare down his nose at him.

"I come on behalf of Queen Fay...against my better judgment...to offer you a truce. Follow me."

The elf scampered away. He frowned, tapping the blade of his axe against his palm, thinking.

"Why now?" he asked. "First Fay tries to kill me, and then she says she wants a truce?"

"Fay wants something," Gnarl said slowly. "I'm not sure what, but it sounds like she's in a spot of trouble. Maybe we could use that to our advantage."

"Maybe, but what if she's plotting something?"

"Oh, what are they going to do, my Lord? Whine at you some more? They're elves, for hells' sake."

"True."

He shrugged, and followed the elf.

"He's kind of cute, isn't he?" he heard Kelda muse.

He grinned.

"Would you like me to bring him back for you to play with?"

He heard her laugh.

"No, I'm not into whining and whinging, thank you. I mean, cute like a sick puppy."

"Are you sure? We could lock him up with the yeti."

"Just come back in one piece, spiky buns. That's all I ask."

"'Spiky buns'," Gnarl grumped. "I've heard 'sweet metal cheeks', and ugh, 'mon armor', but that's a new one."

Kelda chuckled, delighted.

"I think we're actually managing to disgust Gnarl, for once, instead of the other way 'round."

"What?" he asked. "Say it isn't so, cuddle bunny!"

"I'm afraid it's true, snuggle seal."

"Whatever shall we do, my little snowflake?"

"I don't know, my rein-dear!"

"Ugh." Gnarl moaned, sounding pained. "Puns. Enough, you two. You're going to give me indigestion."

She snickered.

"Hurry up, Scourge!"

He resisted a powerful urge to roll his eyes. He followed the elf into a hidden grove, found himself face to face with the Queen of the Fair Folk.