Title: Roll Here In Our Ashes
Summary: There are darker beings at work behind the stars going out. After being caught, Baltor offers to help expose them in exchange for his own life. The Magix Council agrees - if he has help.
Chapters: 14
Rating: M (language, future content, etc.)
Spoilers: cannon-compliant to the end of S8
A/N: see end
Further Notes: This story is crossposted on Ao3, also under emberfire411


"As you can see, we wish to be...discreet with this."

Bloom didn't respond. There were droves of information in front of her - holographic readouts, physical files spread out on a large oak table, and a live camera feed on a datapad near her left hand. The image was of a cell, somewhere in the basement of the Magix Council's headquarters. The image crinkled every few moments, a result of the old closed-loop system they were using. There wasn't a magic buffer to make the picture clear - according to the paper file next to the datapad, there was no magic on that entire floor of the facility.

"Why do you believe him?" Bloom asked, and on the datapad the figure in the cell turned as if he heard her. "He'll lie about anything."

"The information provided was...compelling."

The Magix Council was old. There were seven of them, one for each of the major star systems that made up the dimension. An odd number in case a tie vote needed to be broken. Five men, two women, voted on by the governing bodies of the planets. Not the general population. Their identities were concealed for public appearances and speeches. Bloom had first met them when she'd gone to testify about the Trix raising the Army of Decay when she was sixteen. Since then they seemed to cross paths on a yearly basis, debriefing them on the latest threats to the dimension. Even then, she wasn't allowed to know their names, leaving her to identify them by physical features instead. Two had died since her first time - old age and a heart attack. But even the new, 'younger' replacements were in their mid forties. They had seen the fall of Sparx and the rise of the Army of Decay.

Bloom always thought they'd be smarter than this.

"It's not compelling information. It's Baltor."

The newer ones do most of the talking to her. A woman from Linphea's system with pale green eyes, and a man who had once let slip he was from Diaspro's home planet, whose hair was just starting to turn salt and pepper. Probably from the stress of the job. He straightened up in his chair first.

"We went to Lumenia to speak with Prince Argan. While the planet's core provides him with more power than most lumens, there's no way there was enough for Baltor to be resurrected."

"Or not without help."

"And we don't know what kind of help that was."

"The Ancestresses -"

"Were different," interrupted one of the older council members, a man from the Harmonic Nebula with a long white beard and laugh lines around his eyes. "The Ancestral Witches had no problem taking credit for their misdeeds, from Havram to your own planet. They paraded Baltor around every battle when he was first created. Whoever is pulling the strings on him this time…"

"Remains in the shadows," Bloom looked back at the live feed of Baltor's cell, then to readouts of stars around Prometia. "And the stars aren't recovering."

With the introduction of the mini-core, Orion's home planet was thriving just like it had been before. But nearby stars in the system weren't regaining energy at even half the speed of Prometia. Or a quarter. Something - or someone - was still hoarding it for themselves.

And it couldn't be Baltor, who was stripped of every ounce of (stolen) power the second his body was pulled from the rubble of the asteroid.

She sighed. "So there's someone else. You suspected when the stars didn't come back, and Baltor confirmed it."

"Yes."

Bloom narrowed her eyes. "But...that's not it, is it? Because if it was, the rest of the Winx would be here."

The Council exchanged looks, and Bloom saw their emotions openly - they seemed too focused on each other to care. Nerves. A bad sign. She let out a small breath, crossed her arms, and leaned back in her chair, waiting for whatever sales pitch she was about to be given.

It was Green Eyes - the newer woman from Linphea - who started, and she normally spoke when the Council wanted something from any of the Winx. Tecna once said there was a science behind it, being more inclined to help fellow women.

(That's such a bullshit idea, Aisha had said when Tecna brought it up. The Trix are 'fellow women' and I'd still drown them if I got the chance.)

"Baltor's contact with this higher up force was limited, but there were many plans in place. The business with the Prime Stars was a backup in case there were problems draining stars of their light. Trying to obtain your Cosmix power was also a backup plan. This person or persons prepared for quite a few eventualities. Including a rendezvous should Baltor be captured, and then escape."

"So...you want to use him as bait?"

"Given his long list of crimes and overall threat level, we had agreed the best course of action would be execution. He, of course, was less than thrilled with the idea."

Bloom gave a small chuckle, sparing the datapad another glance. "I can imagine," she muttered under her breath, and she could. Baltor was a lot of things, but being a master of self-preservation was a trait Bloom had overlooked more times than she could count on both hands. It had been her undoing.

"So, based on the information provided, and after very careful consideration," Green Eyes paused before continuing in a far-too-neutral voice, "we agreed to spare his life, should he be able to lure this greater threat out and capture or destroy it."

Her jaw dropped, and Bloom stood up so quickly the chair clattered to the floor behind her. "Are you all crazy?"

They stared at her in shock, and the two oldest council members started raising their voices at the same time. "Now young lady -"

"There is really no need for -"

"He committed genocide!" Bloom yelled, which seemed to shut them up just as fast. "He's made of pure darkness, he's made my life pure hell, and you all want him to just...walk away scott free from this?"

"Of course not," the younger man from Isis spoke up again. "Should he succeed in this task, Baltor will be frozen and sent back to Omega -"

"Because that worked so well when you did it last time?"

"Because it has received the most technologically advanced upgrades from the dimension's brightest minds. And the guards stationed there are the best men and women we have who shoot first and ask questions second. Every improvement was a direct result of Baltor pointing out a fault in the old system. The possibility of him breaking out a second time is slimmer than a black hole opening up and swallowing us all in the next two minutes."

At that, Bloom fell silent, though her hands were still balled into fists so tight she was losing sensation in her fingers. Seemingly satisfied with her silence, the Man from Isis waved a hand. Behind her, Bloom heard the chair righting itself. "Please," he gestured to her, the tone still far too nice for their current discussion.

Bloom sat back down, forcing herself to maintain good posture even though she wanted to slouch and show how utterly angry she was at them. Out loud, though, all she said was: "I would be very...appreciative, if I could see a list of those improvements myself. For...peace of mind."

"Of course. That won't be a problem."

The response struck her as odd, and looking around the room at the council's faces, she knew something was still amiss. She thought about what had already been said when it hit her. "You're going to have to let him out of here to do this in the first place."

The Man from Isis nodded. "Yes."

"And he's going to need magic to pull off a convincing ruse. Which you don't trust him with."

That earned her a round of chuckles from the group. "No," Green Eyes said. "We certainly do not."

"Which is why," the man continued, "we've asked you here. We'd like you to accompany him."

Bloom was so sure he stumbled on his words she smirked, waiting for him to catch the error. But as the seconds ticked by and everyone across the table kept giving her expectant looks, Bloom realized there wasn't an error at all. The smirk fell off her face. "Me? Work with Baltor?"

"We feel it's our best option."

"Really? Why is that?"

"You are the one who fought most with him when he first broke out of the Omega dimension. You come from the same power, which means you'll have a better idea of what you're up against compared to someone else with no history."

"And the two of you do have history," quipped the oldest member of the council, another man with a white shock of hair and drooping skin - Bloom had never bothered to come up with something to call him, he spoke so little.

We are bookends. Matching pieces of the greatest ancient magic even to exist.

She felt her cheeks going red. "Of course we do. But he also has history with the rest of the Winx. Or the Specialists."

"Still, we think you're in a better position to handle him. You would be the one in charge of his powers - a power you're already expert in. We would constantly be checking in on you. And if at any time you felt uncomfortable, you could be pulled out. No questions asked."

That was somehow the most disingenuous thing they'd said to her since she walked in. She knew how the council worked - if they were unwilling to show their faces to the public, they wouldn't stick their necks out for Bloom if something went wrong. Rumors had swirled for years that she was in league with Baltor as a teenager - rumors that had come back twice as hard since his returm. She was powerful, yes, but she was also the easiest person to write off should things go wrong. And she had too big of a heart to refuse them outright - not if it meant other people's lives would be put at risk. It was perfect.

And she thought politics in the magic dimension would be less messy than Earth. She had been so wrong.

"How long do I have to think about this?" Bloom finally asked.

"The sooner this begins, the sooner the magic dimension is safe. We'd like your answer today, if possible."

"...I'd like a second opinion."

The man with the long beard raised an eyebrow. "That's not possible...we can't allow this information to leave the room. If you need -"

"What about the building?"

"I...I'm sorry?"

"You said this information can't leave the room. But what if it stays inside the building?" Bloom raised an eyebrow. "Is that okay?"

The group exchanged looks.


"So do I get a heads up as to why we're visiting her? Or am I just going to be floundering behind you like a fish?"

"I didn't get any heads up before you threw all this information on me," Bloom gave the Man from Isis a pointed look and leaned back to rest on the elevator wall. "Thanks for that, by the way."

"I couldn't exactly ring you up beforehand."

"I would've accepted a note via carrier pigeon."

"Pigeon?"

Bloom sighed. "Earth bird. They carried coded messages in wars. Which is also not the point, Tom."

She wasn't allowed to say Tom's name around the others - she wasn't even supposed to know it in the first place. She had run into him on Linphea once while she was visiting Flora. He worked on Isis as a banker for its more upper class citizens. He had a wife and a seven year old son with his eyes.

"I am sorry this was all sprung on you. I tried to argue at least a few days to think about it, or even have two of you go instead of one -"

"No. I get it. You need to keep it as small and quiet as possible. I bounce around a lot between Earth and Sparx and Magix, and the press does keep a distance from me despite royalty status."

"Maybe it's because you lit one of them on fire during Solaria's Millennium celebration."

Bloom smirked lightly, remembering a creepy old man who wouldn't stop shoving a camera in her face asking if Sky was going to dump her for Diaspro again. "I did do that, didn't I?"

The elevator dinged and slid open with a soft hiss. They were four stories underground now, the only light coming from the fluorescent strips above them. The floor was a single waiting area with a front desk and chairs that branched into three separate hallways, all lined with cell doors. Besides a man behind the front desk, there were guards at the beginning and end of each hallway. They stood to attention and saluted her and Tom as they passed by.

"Last chance to fill me in."

Bloom glanced over at him. "If I'm really going to do this...I need to know what I'm going up against. Fighting Baltor is a whole lot different than having to work with him. I have no experience in that department, despite what any of your friends up there think."

Tom had the grace to look embarrassed - he hadn't been around the first time she spoke to the Council about Baltor, but he knew she'd spent a solid hour having to deny allegations she was his pawn, secretly in allegiance with him and ready to turn on the dimension at a moment's notice. "If you think it will be helpful in your decision, I fully support you."

"Thank you." They came to a stop in front of a cell door seemingly as plain as the rest of them. "You'll let me take the lead?"

"Of course."

Bloom took a second to take a few deep breaths and straighten her posture. When her pulse relaxed from rapid to slightly fast, she turned to nod at Tom, who leaned forward and pressed a series of numbers into a keypad. A light above the door turned from red to blue, and the door in turn slid open.

The cells in this hallway were the nicest of the three, more resembling a tiny studio apartment than a prison cell. The necessities were there - kitchenette, bed, couch, table, bookshelf, a door to a small bathroom on the back wall. The only thing out of place was a square of metal in the floor, connected to a chain, connected to the ankle of a woman resting on the couch with a book in her lap.

Darcy looked up at Bloom behind the rim of her glasses. "Wow, a visitor. I'm just touched."

Bloom took a breath, which hitched when she heard the door slide closed behind her and Tom. "Darcy."

"And look, the fairy loser brought a friend!" she continued with fake cheer. "A bigwig to hold her hand and protect her from the big bad witch."

Based on tone alone, Bloom knew rising to her taunts would only make things worse. It was her first time seeing Darcy since the asteroid - and Bloom was fairly certain she was the first non-staff to be allowed inside. Instead she looked around, pointedly lingering her gaze on the single bed, single couch, and single mug resting by the sink. "Where's Stormy?"

"Light Rock Monastery. Guess you didn't hear," Darcy smirked when the confusion appeared on her face. "The Council decided the best way to keep us out of trouble was to split us up. I guess after eight years and seven or so attempts we finally made them think outside the box. She'll probably reform, too, the witch. She's always been more susceptible to that hippy bullshit."

"...Not you, though."

Darcy carefully closed the book and set it down next to her. "I know that most of the people in the universe are only looking out for themselves, including me. I don't humor any other line of thought. Does that make me a bad person?"

"...Not just that," Bloom conceded after a moment. "Did they find her yet?"

Darcy and Stormy had been captured in Magix, hiding out in a series of caves leading to Downland and Shadowhaunt. They'd surrendered without a fight, without the last member of the trio there to rouse them into a fight. And despite the weeks of searching and tips being called in (according to Tom) on an hourly basis, no one had seen Icy.

Darcy didn't need clarification, her smirk freezing just long enough for Bloom to realize the question made her uncomfortable. "No."

Bloom nodded, air audibly hissing out through her nose. "I'm sorr-"

"Don't." Darcy cut off, a tremor in her voice. "Don't finish that sentence if you want to stay on my good side. Which I assume you do, since you've decided to grace me with your presence. You want something from me."

"I wanted to ask some questions."

The brunette raised an eyebrow. "And what about what I want?"

"Well…" Bloom's gaze slid to Tom, who gave a shrug to her own quirked eyebrow. "That would depend, I guess. I don't have much power here."

Darcy chuckled like that was the funniest thing she'd heard in a while. "Oh please. You're about the most powerful woman in the goddamn dimension. Saying otherwise just makes you an idiot, too. Not that you haven't been one before."

Behind her, Tom cleared his throat. "Now -"

"I want weekly phone calls with my sister," Darcy interrupted. "Thirty minutes."

She stared down Tom when she said it. Bloom had a feeling it was because Darcy couldn't manipulate her after the years of fighting, leaving her to square off with the only other option. To his credit, Tom didn't back down, standing straight and staring back unflinchingly. Bloom could feel the heaviness in the room as she glanced back and forth between them.

"Monthly," Tom finally countered. "Working toward the goal of bi-weekly calls, should your behavior remain acceptable and Light Rock approves. And if you provide acceptable answers to Bloom's questions."

Darcy seemed to consider this for a bit, eyes sliding around the room and muttering quietly to herself. She looked at Tom, then Bloom, then back to Tom. "Fine."

With a nod of approval from him, Bloom finally stepped further into the room and sat on the edge of the bed (the sheets were still tucked into the mattress at the bottom where she sat, but crumpled to one side at the top where Darcy had climbed out of bed). "I won't waste your time."

"Because I have so little to waste," Darcy waved her hand around the room, and for the first time Bloom saw cracks in her armor, the hatred she was harboring for being stuck here. Alone. "Out with it, pixie."

"It's about Baltor."

The bluntness seemed to catch Darcy off-guard. She turned her body towards Bloom, giving her the most attention since she'd walked in. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Bloom repeated, then sat on her hands so she would stop wringing them. "When he brought you three back...did he say who he was working for?"

The witch raised an eyebrow. "You think he's working for someone?"

"Do you honestly think he came up with everything himself?"

Darcy gave Bloom a look she had never expected - one with the slightest glimmer of respect. "No. Not after his last attempt to go solo blew up in his face. The Ancestresses have been in my head before. I know Baltor's purpose. Weapon first, person second. Things created to be people second don't make great plans. Then get used by other people to make better plans."

Bloom blinked in surprise. "I...see."

The cracks filled in. Darcy now looked only slightly interested in the conversation. "His royal pain not being very forthcoming?"

"Did you ever see him talking with anyone? Using spells or objects you didn't recognize?"

"Hmm...he found that old crystal ball again. An old spell from Solaria," Darcy clarified when Tom made a noise like he was about to speak. "Using a moonstone. It works like the old witch tales, looking in on people you've crossed paths with."

"Did you ever see who he was looking at?"

"You."

Bloom inhaled sharply before she could stop herself. A chill ran from the nape of her neck to her tailbone, reverberating through her limbs. Flashes echoed in her mind of all the times over the last few months when she felt like she was being watched, or the sensation of something just out of the corner of her eye.

"Besides Bloom," Tom cut in. When Bloom looked over he was staring at her. "Or the Winx."

Darcy's face turned more thoughtful. "Once," she finally said. "Late in the night, right before the seventh piece of the wishing star. I heard him in that gaudy hallway, talking through the crystal. The voices were deep."

"Voices?"

"Yeah. More than one, but talking together."

"What did they say?"

"The usual - taking over the world, having endless power, don't fail us again, yada yada. Something to do with the star fragments. I didn't think much of it. Or care."

"You think Baltor's loyal to these guys?"

She tilted her head and looked at Bloom like a child that had come up and cried it was lost. "Do you think he is?"

Bloom set her jaw and tried not to feel embarrassed for asking such a stupid question. "Baltor's loyal to Baltor."

"Smart girl."

"Would you trust him? If you had to work with him again?"

Darcy looked like she wanted to ask more, but the idea was short-lived with a sharp glare from Tom. Instead she reached over and picked her book back up, flipping idly through the pages. "It's like you said, Baltor's loyal to Baltor. It's not about trust - it's about who can give him what he wants, and who can do it faster. If you play that game, you can get what you need from him."

"That doesn't answer my question."

She smiled and didn't look up from the pages. "Yes it does."


Even just a hallway over, the feeling in the air was much more tense. Cameras pointed at each individual door and down the hallway, like everyone was afraid to miss even a floating speck of dust. Bloom knew there were magic dampeners on the floor - she'd been given a protective band so her own powers would be usable - but this was the first time she could feel it, trying to work through the charm to neutralize her. It made her stomach churn.

Tom, too, had taken precautions before they came this way. They had stopped at a weapons room next to the elevator, where he had taken a pouch with some kind of magic powder and tucked a dagger into his right boot.

"We have an array of magical objects with charms exempt from the dampeners," he'd said to Bloom as she lingered in the doorway, staring at everything. "And practical weapons, if you'd like to borrow one."

She looked around to be polite before she came across a faintly glowing silver cord in a glass case. "You guys have truth lassos?"

Instead of a witty retort or confusion, Tom shrugged. "Makes interrogations easier."

Bloom had it wrapped around her left wrist like a bracelet now, hoping it would help channel her inner Diana Prince.

"If you want to wait back in the lobby," Tom offered, his expression cautious.

Realizing she was drumming her fingers against her thigh, Bloom balled her hand into a fist and straightened up. "No. I need to be here. I'm ready."

He didn't argue with her, and punched in another code like Darcy's cell. The difference was a second later, another panel slid out behind the keypad. Tom pressed his finger to it, an audible click following. Machinery whirled from somewhere in the wall, and a few moments later the light above the door changed.

"Beefier security?" Bloom asked lightly as he brought the finger to his mouth to lick off the excess blood.

Tom just smiled before stepping inside. Bloom followed.

Bloom had a faint idea of what to expect - she'd seen the feed of Baltor in the cell when she was upstairs. But somehow, it still surprised her to see him, sitting on the edge of a plain bed (arguably the nicest thing in the cell - and this was far more like a prison cell than Darcy's quarters) in a white long-sleeved shirt and loose pants. His eyes were sunken in with dark circles around them, both ankles shackled. His hair was - somehow - perfectly kept, but tied up out of his face.

And unlike Darcy, who pretended to be uninterested in Bloom when she arrived, Baltor's eyes went right to her and stayed there. She did her best to ignore it, keeping her posture formal and saying nothing.

"You'll be thrilled to hear we've come to an agreement on your sentence." Tom started, obviously trying to keep Baltor's focus on him.

It failed. His gaze didn't so much as flinch. "...Is that so?" Baltor asked, his voice gravelly from apparent disuse.

"Yes. Your execution order will be rescinded, in exchange for the capture of your master."

At the word master, Bloom saw a dark look flash across his eyes. "For a one-way trip to the Omega Dimension?"

"You could stay here if you'd like," Tom said. "But we keep getting budget cuts - worse food in the cafeteria, fewer locks on weapons closets, more issues with the cameras in your cell. Not to mention most of the guards here hate you. It'd be a shame if they got any ideas in between getting the connections back up."

Bloom stared at Tom in shock. The look on his face was one she hadn't seen before - thinly veiled rage. Tom was usually the one on the council who could maintain his composure. She didn't realize he held such a grudge.

The only reason she didn't say anything outright was because of a laugh - Baltor's laugh. She snapped her head back to see he'd never taken his eyes off her. And he was amused. "Now, look what you've done. You've appalled the first guest I've had since I got here."

Bloom gulped and raised her chin defiantly. "...It's not like you wouldn't deserve it."

He smiled. "I suppose not. Hello, Bloom."

She didn't say anything back.

"It's the best we can offer you," Tom said pointedly.

"I'm also aware it's the only thing you'll offer me." Finally, Baltor turned his gaze away, and Bloom let a breath out. He flashed Tom that smirk she'd come to know so well. "At least Omega keeps me alive. So I will work with you."

"Oh, I'm not the one you need to worry about working with."

The smirk fell right off his face. "What?"

"I have other obligations. You certainly didn't think we'd be sending you alone, did you?"

Baltor stood up, and Bloom understood instantly what was going on - he was getting ready for an argument. "I knew you weren't an idiot, yes. I figured limited magic, camera drones, a ridiculous safehouse and plainclothes guards."

"Looks like you were wrong. Again. A two-person team draws less attention and wastes fewer resources."

Baltor looked to Bloom again, running his gaze slowly up and down her body like he was contemplating a coat on a mannequin. "No."

Bloom raised her eyebrows in surprise. "No?"

"Give me someone else. Someone less conspicuous."

Tom's face barely changed, but Bloom could tell he was surprised. "That's not an option."

"It's going to have to be to get what you want."

"What's wrong with me?" Bloom asked, trying not to sound offended.

"Everything." In a complete reversal of their entrance, Baltor barely spared her a glance. "She's one of the most recognizable faces in the dimension, for one thing. Can't the council give me a different babysitter?"

"The council are the ones who chose her."

Baltor gave an exasperated sigh and sat back on the bed. "Of course they did."

"She's smart, she's resourceful, she's beaten you twice now -"

"Yes, she has." Baltor rolled her eyes. "How very observant of your ilk. Which is why it's going to be suspicious when I show up to meet my contacts with her in tow. You may as well send me in handcuffs and her pulling me on a leash."

"She is right here." Bloom finally snapped.

She almost wished she hadn't said anything, as Baltor turned his full attention back to her. But now instead of curiosity, he was visibly annoyed. He stood back up, and with very calculated steps, made his way to her.

"These people -" Baltor stopped, shook his head. Began again. "These beings are not something you're used to dealing with. You will not be able to handle it."

"Didn't you say that to me about yourself once?"

The comment earned her half a smirk. "You think you can do this because you've faced me? Or the Trix? Or Tritannus? It's different."

"How?" He was within arm's reach now, but Bloom held her ground (and she had very little space to retreat into). Inside her chest, her heart was beating rapidly. "Help me understand."

"The people you've fought before - myself included - had varying methods to reach a goal of total conquest of the dimension. But we were all smart enough to realize when that point was reached, we would still need people to rule over, to have under us. My master does not share that sentiment."

"...So he's dumb?"

"So he has no problem killing in cold blood. Men, women, children. All barriers in the way of a goal."

While the words were worrying enough, what bothered Bloom more was Baltor's expression as he said them. There was no trace of his usual dramatic flair or smugness. After avoiding them at first, she finally settled her gaze to match his. His eyes were piercing, and serious.

"The people working for them," Baltor continued, keeping his eyes on hers. "Will think the same. They won't not show restraint because you're a princess, or an attractive woman. They will kill you without question. I need someone willing to do the same."

Slowly, Bloom shook her head. "But...that doesn't make sense. You didn't do that. So why would they come to you in the first place?"

He raised an eyebrow, as if surprised she hadn't figured it out yet. "I'm not a person to them. I'm an owned necessity. The most powerful one, created by the Ancestresses."

This caught her off guard, but Bloom realized it seemed to be a common theme today. Both Darcy and the council at large seemed to think of Baltor as a means to an end, just one that walked and talked.

"That still doesn't change anything." Tom's voice broke the tension in the room, though only slightly. "We'll monitor you as closely as we can under the circumstances, but as of now this has been approved as a two-person Level D operation. You two. No room for argument."

In the blink of an eye the dramatic, openly cocky Baltor was back. "Well. I suppose it's better than not dying. But Level D? That's the highest classification the council gives, isn't it?" Baltor turned back to her, smirking again. "No one outside the council and the participants filled in. Don't tell me I only have the pleasure of dealing with one Winx."

Bloom put on a fake smile. "Afraid so. Just me."

"Hmm. My favorite, at least."

Her jaw locked. Something shifted on Baltor's face, a darker emotion slipping behind the smirk. There was the lightest sensation of touch as she felt his hand brush up against one of hers, a purposeful move. Bloom knew Baltor well enough to recognize the game. He was trying to get under her skin, make her break in some way. More than likely trying to make her back out of the deal.

Out of the corner of Bloom's eye, she saw Tom shifting uncomfortably, trying to figure out the best way to diffuse the situation.

Bloom didn't turn her full attention to him. She needed to stand on her own two feet, especially if this was the kind of thing she would be dealing with now. Carefully, without breaking eye contact, she reached her little finger out, forward until it brushed the back of Baltor's hand. He raised an eyebrow, and Bloom gave the faintest smile, slipping the finger around and into his half-closed fist.

Then she took another breath, reached over with her other hand, and slipped the silver cord from her wrist to Baltor's in a single movement. "Do the people you're indebted to scare you?"

"Yes," Baltor replied easily, then blinked in surprise. He snatched his hand away. "Wha- How did you -

Bloom reached out and took his wrist, mostly so he was unable to get at the cord. "Do you know their names? Where they're from?"

He gritted his teeth, trying to fight against the magic and her grip at the same time. Both battles were lost. One breath, then two. Then, practically spat at her: "No."

"But you do know where to meet them when we leave here? That's real, not just a lie to try and escape?"

"I-It's real. I was given specific instructions."

Baltor reached for her, and she intercepted his other hand. "If given the chance, would you betray me during this?"

His eyes went wide. "I...I-I -"

"Answer the question, please."

"I...I don't know. It would depend."

Bloom pursed her lips thoughtfully. She hadn't expected that. "Do you think you need me for this?"

Baltor looked ready to strangle her, but a moment later both wrists went limp in her hands. "...Yes. I do."

Smirking herself, Bloom let go. Baltor jerked away from her, fumbling with the lasso for a few moments before pulling it off his wrist and throwing it. It was so light it only travelled a few inches before delicately fluttering to the ground. He was breathing hard, and sat back down with an audible creak from the bed.

Bloom reached down and carefully took the cord, winding it up into a loop around her wrist again. "This thing's fun," she said to Tom. "Do you have an extra I can bring?"

"No," the other man replied firmly. "But I can get you a keycard for this floor and the weapon's closet, should you need to come back and properly check anything out."

Bloom smiled as Baltor's face became even more uneasy. "Deal."


All right SO! It's been 5 years since my last long-haul fic, I can't leave my house, my diet as of late consists of toast and ready-made strawberry margarita mix, and the fucking Nook Twins won't buy my turnips for more than 98 bells because they SUCK (add me in new horizons). Point is, I'm depressed, and there's no better way to fix that than with dark fic. You're welcome.

Staying from the 4Kids dub: Baltor instead of Valtor, Sparx instead of Domino (because yes, I know RAI tried to make Sparx into something else in Winx-cannon, but I am a stubborn bitch), and Diaspro being from a different planet (Isis) than Sky.

Also important to note the rating! Yes, it's M, but also legit M isn't allowed on FFN anymore because they suck too. Many ignore this, but I'm not willing to because this account (long story) has strikes on it. This story is crossposted on Ao3, and when major differences between chapters occur, I'll let you know.