Malicious glee shone in Haggar's golden eyes as she tightened her fingers around Keith's neck. Enjoying her power and his vulnerability, she watched him twist his head from side to side, trying to catch his breath.

"Fool," she taunted him as she had taunted so many others in the past. "Who are you to think that you could defeat me? I am Haggar. Do you actually think that you had a chance against my magic?"

She expected him spit defiance at her, or plead and grovel, as so many others had in the past, but Keith's reaction was surprising. He seemed unaware of the fact that she was slowly choking the life from him. Instead, he regarded her stoically, his dark eyes filled with something that she couldn't really identify.

For the first time in more years than she could remember, Haggar fought the chaotic emotions — happiness, remorse, joy and guilt — that flared up within her. A single tear trailed down her cheek as she remembered how it felt like to love.

Slowly unclasping her hands, Haggar stepped back and let Keith's body sag onto the ground. "I'm sorry," she whispered as she knelt down and reached out a hand in a tentative caress. "You were a worthy opponent, as was your Princess."

"Fuck," Lance swore savagely as the squad of four lions established visual contact a few moments later. "We're too late." Anger etched his face into grim lines and lent a harsh edge to his voice. "I'm going to make her pay for this."

Lance tightened his hands on his control yokes and launched his lion into action. A glance at the signatures and targeting information displayed on one of his peripheral displays told him that the other lions had joined him in the attack as well.

Keith wasn't sure exactly what had awakened him — the thunderous growling that rumbled in the air or the force of the explosions that shook the ground upon which he lay. His reinforcements, the four lions, had arrived.

Keith spared a moment to watch the lions tear through the pale sky, savagely beautiful in their fury while he tried to gather his wits around him. A shower of soil and pebbles, torn up from their forested battleground rained down upon him and prompted him into action.

A distraction would be a good idea, he decided as he groggily got to his feet. He reached for the hilt of his sword, half-expecting to find the scabbard empty, and breathed a silent prayer as he found his sword in its place.

"I'm sorry Ally," he whispered, drawing his sword in one hand and his blaster in the other. "Please forgive me." Holding his breath, he aimed carefully and fired a high-intensity burst of energy at the witch's back.

His shot fizzled and bounced off a shimmering shield that sparkled and glowed in the watery sunlight. Haggar turned around, madness shining in her golden eyes. "Darling! I'm glad you're awake. Now you can watch your friends die."

"I'll see you dead first."

"Have it your way then," Haggar said, diving at Keith gleefully. Her staff metamorphosized and changed from one moment to the next, first a sinuous snake that hissed and spat at him, then a shimmering blade of steel that whistled through the air, aiming for his heart.

Keith's body reacted before he had time for coherent thought. The flawless reflexes trained into his muscles and sinews responded, allowing him to catch Haggar's blade, desperately jerking his sword arm up in time to protect his chest.

Emotions and misgivings were pushed aside as he grimly accepted what he had feared had come to pass. "I'm sorry, Ally," he breathed, once again, wishing with all his heart that it didn't have to end this way.

Lance peered through the scopes of his weapons system, frantically praying for a clear shot. It was difficult shot for him, an impossible one shot for almost anyone else: the weapons of the lions were not designed for the pinpoint accuracy of small weapons fire.

The closeness of the two combatants was another complication. Both Keith and the witch were moving at a blurring speed, their blades clashing and slithering; the graceful elegant metal lethal in the hands of two accomplished swordsmen.

Keith and Allura had always been evenly matched, even in happier times. The captain had been trained in the art of warfare at the Academy, the princess by the best swordsmen Arus had to offer.

But Haggar's fury added something new to the equation. Anger and hate infused new energy in the witch and galvanized her to take the offensive. Although visibly hurt and tired, Keith was defending himself like a fiend, parrying her attacks to the best of his ability, giving ground slowly, until he could retreat no more.

Holding his ground, Keith waited unflinching, for Haggar's lunge, knowing the closer he let the sword point get to his body, the stronger his parry would be. Confidence and steadiness were required. He couldn't shrink or draw back even a little. Everything depended on timing, speed and lack of hesitation.

"You're ... dead ... Darling," Haggar puffed, her golden eyes glittering, her earlier moment of humanity forgotten in her bloodlust and the promised exhilaration of impending victory.

Keith's sword whipped up to parry as Haggar's forward movement drove her sword directly at his heart. In a single flashing moment, Keith's blade ran across Haggar's right up to the point, and as it parted from it, he swung his blade up and over, turned his wrist, extended his arm and drove his point towards Haggar's chest.

Her head tilted up and Haggar gazed up at him, with wide and glassy eyes. Her expression was frozen into an almost comical mixture of fear and surprise. Her lips moved and formed soundless words. A low moan rattled in the back of her throat.

They stood close to each other, almost like the lovers that they never had been. The wind built in intensity, whistling around them, conspiring to wrap the full skirts of Haggar's robes around Keith's ankles.

The witch's head dropped and lolled to the side as she fell into Keith's arms in an eerie slow motion. "Damn you," she whispered, managing to find the strength for a final curse. "You did what no one else had the courage to do."