Chapter 6: "How Did We Get Here, Anyway?"

Willow Rosenberg:

So I was being all executive-like, and learning to multitask. To my left was a pile of calculations related to the amount of Morcalthian ore we're mining a month, and the amount of ore we currently have stockpiled - ore that was going to be used for the First's invasion of Earth, but that will now go to buy cool stuff for the realm - you know, like clothes and seeds and housing materials. To my right was a pile of calculations related to how much ore the First would need to have its armies smash the inter-world barrier and invade the Earth. I made the mistake of looking at the two results at the same time.

I thought the two results should be about the same. That was the whole point of my going fiery and scaly, you know, so I could stop the First from taking the ore and taking over the Earth that evening. But they weren't the same. They weren't even close. I mean, we're talking from New Sunnydale to Sunnydale distance here.

The world-barrier smashing number was slightly less than one hundred thousand tons of ore. I checked it again. I checked it twice. I had some of the staff who formerly did ore-yield calculations re-check it, and they agreed with me.

The amount of ore in the warehouse was a little more than fifteen thousand tons. I had the warehouse staff check everything again. Twice. I dealt with them laughing at me when they said the current warehouses couldn't possibly hold more than twenty five thousand tons, and wasn't that clear from looking at the warehouses? I even dealt with them laughing hysterically when I asked if there weren't any super-secret jumbo-sized warehouses somewhere.

The amount of ore the mine produces in a year is about five hundred tons. (We've cut it back to two hundred tons a year, to allow the miners to have a life since they're like, not slaves anymore. Besides, since we're not supplying the First anymore, we have a lot less demand. And, the former workers do have a lot else to do, like building houses and growing food. But I'm rambling again.) This means it would have taken almost 170 years to supply the needed ore to the First - assuming the mine continued to run at full blast and every ounce had been stockpiled. In reality, it would have taken well over 200 years.

She lied to me.

* * *

The First was enraged. Enraged!

"That girl ruined everything!" it roared, shaking and shuddering in rage. The boulder-demon gnashed its big pointy teeth.

"She took my ore!" it roared, shaking and shuddering some more.

"She burned my Army!" it roared, practically bouncing up and down. The boulder demon began to roll wildly.

"But, uh, excuse me, mighty great one, but ya see, I've got a plan," said the recently reincarnated Bishop (otherwise known as Caleb).

The First stopped shuddering. The boulder demon stopped rolling. They both looked at the Bishop.

"What do you have in mind?" grunted the boulder demon.

* * *

The recently-restored hell goddess Glorificus reclined satisfactorily, on a recently reclined Roman sofa. This time, she noticed the small amounts of dust that had settled on the two large hell-god heads serving as the supports of the sofa. She noticed the dust because she was no longer distracted, having cleverly decided to dispatch Jeeves as her official ambassador to Morcalthia. Jeeves wouldn't let her down. Jeeves would either get the flow of ore restored or get enough info on Morcalthia's defenses to show Amateur Girl who the real Lord of the Mine really was. Or else she would eat Jeeves' entrails, and black orc entrails were quite yummy. So, every way she came out a winner, and she was quite pleased. Except of course, for the dust on the sofa.

* * *

D'Hoffryn looked at his newly appointed ambassador to Morcalthia, the freshly reincarnated vengeance demon Halfrek. "So you understand the plan?"

"Absolutely. I look around and assess the situation. If she's good, I zig one way and we get a kick-ass vengeance demon. If she's no good, I zag the other way and we solve a problem permanently."

"Very good. And Halfrek, I assume I don't need to remind you of where your loyalties are. Willow can be a quite charming young woman, but you know well the... dangers of becoming, shall we say, attached, to the wrong individual."

Halfrek grimaced and nodded. She still had a few painful burns left on her body. D'Hoffryn was letting them heal, but slowly.

D'Hoffryn smiled. "Very good. And don't forget, there will be substantial upside if, no, when you succeed."

Halfrek smiled weakly. "Really?"

"Yes. Not only will I heal you permanently and restore all your powers, I'll let you play not so nice with the bunny."

A wicked grin spread across Halfrek's face.

* * *

Lilah Morgan reclined in her executive chair, trying to suppress the same sickness in her stomach. [At least I'm post-scars,] she thought.

The plan was simple, and the best she could think of, but still highly risky. Get a young lawyer into the Morcalthian mines by offering free legal services to the new ruler. Have the young, expendable lawyer do reconnaissance. Then, when the time was right, send in a Wolfram and Hart strike team to grab the red-headed usurper, chop her into easily-analyzable pieces, ship the pieces back to the appropriate hell dimension, and acquire a "legal fee" equal to every pebble of ore in the mines' warehouses. All this assumed that the red-headed usurper didn't find out first, and incinerate the expendable lawyer, the strike team, a good chunk of W&H, and her stylish office in the process.

She decided she could really use some ice water.

* * *

Pemth Kendia was happy. She was not just happy from the rush of burning one hundred acres of prime old-growth forest that had been raised just for that purpose, although that was quite a source of happiness. She was also quite pleased with her strategy for dealing with her recently-separated girlfriend.

The plan was simple, yet elegant. First, send an ambassador over to Morcalthia on behalf of the great and mighty dragon Pemth Kendia. Next, assuming that Willow was now sane (and the recent reports out of the dimensions seemed promising on that count), arrange a grand visit to the dimension. And then, give Willow the wonderful surprise of seeing her beloved girlfriend again, and thrilling her with the knowledge that said girlfriend was really Kendia's most mighty and noble self in disguise. From there, it would be a simple matter to convince Willow that she did not have the necessary experience to run or defend such a vitally important dimension, and that Pemth Kendia should run it instead. Of course, she'd sample some of the fine feral demons and forests while she was there. Why, she bet she'd even get to sample Willow some more - now that would be really quite nice.

Pemth Kendia smiled. Most days were good days when you were a Pemth dragon, but this day was really, really good.

* * *

Cassie was finishing some paperwork when Willow burst into her office. She was completely non-perturbed by Willow's obvious anger. She looked up and smiled sweetly. "Willow, hello! I was just finishing up some paperwork," said the teenager. "What can I do for you?"

"You... lied to me."

"About what?" asked Cassie, nonchalantly.

"You know damn well. The ore."

"What about..." Cassie quickly stopped talking when she saw Willow's eyes darken.

"Don't give me that. You said the First would have enough ore to break through to Earth the very night I got here. That's not true. They won't have enough for least another two hundred years."

Cassie shrugged. "Well, I may have exaggerated a little..."

"So you admit it then. You lied to me. You used me," said Willow. "You and the others. You pushed me into becoming Dark Willow, then sent me mental messages to get me to turn into... this dragon... thing."

Cassie gave Willow a wicked smile. "Yes. And?"

Willow was expecting frantic denials, and was totally taken aback. She tried to say a few words. "But... but... it was dangerous!"

Cassie let out a horrid laugh. "Dangerous? Dangerous is being sent to hell and mentally raped and tortured on a regular basis because you had a heart attack on top of a hellmouth. Most of the other people here have similar stories."

"But, but... you had no right to do what you did to me!"

Cassie let out an even worse sounding laugh. "Rights? You're absolutely correct, Willow. I didn't. But looking forward to nothing but decades of torment until going irreversibly insane and becoming a slave for centuries kind throws your morals out the window, you know? We used the tools at our disposal. You would have done the same."

"But... I'm a dark evil scaly thing now! You made me into this!"

The teenager sighed and rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. Dark, yes. Scaly, yes. Evil - that's entirely up to you. And I've got to say, so far your track record as a dragon is so much better than when you were a human. Haven't burned or flayed the crap out of anyone lately just because you felt bad, have you? Haven't had much of an urge to, either?"

"But..." Willow trailed off into silence, and looked down. This had not gone as she'd expected.

Cassie filled the silence. "And we're far from the only ones, Willow. Do you have any idea how many there are out there who want to use you? Have used you? I've got a fairly good idea of your history. You know what I mean as well I do."

"But why? Why does everyone want to use me?"

Cassie grinned. "It's not you. It's your power. It's always about the power, as the saying goes. Or in your case, how people want to leverage your power."

"Oh. And is that all I am to you? A power tool?"

"No. Of course not. You're a godsend to us, Willow."

"Really, hmm?"

"Absolutely. I wouldn't sworn an oath of allegiance to you if I didn't mean it."

"You're sure of this? That you will not betray me again?"

"Definitely. I absolutely swear it."

Willow smiled briefly. Then her eyes flashed black. "That's very good, Prime Minister. Because if you, or any one of your associates, ever does anything like that ever again, I will kill you. That's if I'm feeling merciful. Repaying oath-breaking with vengeance is not an empty slogan, little girl."

Cassie nodded.

Willow stormed out of the office. Then she briefly stuck her head back in the door. "And if you're so good conspiring, you can damn well figure out who murdered my girl and tried to use me to burn the world." Her head left the door.

Cassie grimaced, but called after her. "I've got candidates. And, Willow - I know there were two different groups!"

Willow quickly stuck her head back in the door. "Two things. First: not good enough. Second: what do you mean, two different groups?"

Cassie cringed. "The aura traces from that day - whoever wanted you to end the world was affiliated with the Powers. No, I'm not kidding. Whoever killed Tara really, really, wasn't."

"Like I said, work harder." Willow's head promptly left the door.

Cassie breathed a sigh of relief. [That went better than I thought,] thought Cassie. [Looks like she's learning.]

[Glad not to disappoint you. And remember your oath,] thought an angry dragon.

Cassie gasped.

* * *

It was a long way down to the prison cell holding Rack. [In more ways than one,] thought Willow. Despite the distance, she still reached the cell unpleasantly soon.

"Hello, Rack," she said.

The disheveled wizard jerked around, apparently surprised. "Strawberry! I mean, your highness Strawberry! Pleasant surprise, oh yeah. What can I do for you?"

"I think you have an idea."

"Ooh," he chuckled. "Are you here to execute me, again? Because I've been such a bad boy, Strawberry.... so baaad you wouldn't believe it."

"No," said Willow. "I don't do that anymore."

"Oh, sorry, didn't realize you'd changed your scene. It's been what, a whole three weeks now since you incinerated the place? And a year or so since you flayed Warren and drained me? Not that I minded, it of course. Best I've ever had, that was."

Rack seemed to expect some response. Willow did not give him the satisfaction of providing him with one.

"So, then, your highness, what would you like?"

"My prime minister says you have some important information."

"Cassie! Oh yeah, sweet Cassie. She's really something, ain't she? Why, I've got to say, she's the second best..."

"I am here for the information, Rack."

"Oh, right. Well, you know me, I help people. Helpful Rack, that's what they always say. You know, kind of like when..."

"I am quite familiar with your 'help,' Rack."

"Well, yeah, anyway, you know, I help them, and they provide me with some help in return. Lots of people I've helped, Strawberry, lots of 'em. From all over the Realms, not just Mine soldiers. All over. And you know what?"

"You're still helping them," said Willow. "You're helping them inter- dimensional long distance. Because we - I'm - letting you."

"Absolutely right, Strawberry, absolutely! Most thankful, I am. Anyway, I'm getting lots of help back. Lots of help, in many different ways. Most important, though, is the information."

"And what does the information say, Rack?"

"Oh, yeah, Cassie has all the specific details, so she can run it down for you. But the bottom line is that just about everyone was knocked back on their asses by your smash-and-burn job, Strawberry, and everyone's trying to do something about it. They're also salivating over the thought of owning all that pretty, shiny ore. The First is the first of the worst, of course - it's bat-ness wants ore and revenge in the worst possible way. But lots of other bad dudes out there, too - the skeezy lawyers, the Big Rock-ette, the Blade Queen, even some of the Powers are throwing out all kinds of bad mojo. Even those who want to be 'helpful' I'd be real wary of - beware of demons, dragons, even Powers and Powers agents bearing gifts, Queen Strawberry."

"And what do you suggest I do about all of these threats to this realm, Rack?"

"Oh, I'd say start with the basics - a little smart prioritizing who your enemies really are, a little playing sides against each other, a little divide and conquer, a little smart diplomacy. And match it up with a few demonstrations of your glorious, massive-ass power, and we might just all survive." He winked at Willow. "And most of all, use your greatest advantage."

"Which is?"

"You're underestimated. They think you're a fluke, an accident, a gazillion to one long shot who'll be a total pushover. But I know you, Strawberry. I know you in many different ways, you might say." He winked again at Willow, who gave no response. "Your taking this dimension might be an accident. But I know your keeping it won't be, and that this dimension won't be your last."

"Thank you," said Willow. She turned and walked out of the chamber, her footsteps slowly becoming quieter.

Rack, however, picked up a small sense of satisfaction in the young ruler. [Oh yeah, Strawberry. What a woman.]

* * *

Willow Rosenberg:

Sometimes when I need to be alone, I come to this spot. Here, three miles above the plains of this dimension, on the rim of mountains lining this world. In addition to being beautiful, it's pretty secluded unless you can fly. And right now that pretty much means me.

I always wanted to be powerful. No, not so much powerful as useful, and be able to fix things, really fix them. Not to mention become a princess with a big castle. And I got everything I wanted. I can even fly. And I should be absolutely miserable. After all, I'm in hell. Everyone's perfect Willow, gone totally to hell. But I'm not. I'm only partially miserable.

I wonder what the witches of the Devon coven would say to me now. I wonder what Giles, Buffy and the Scoobies would say. "Oh, poor Willow Rosenberg, she used to be such a good little girl. So sweet. So pure. So reliable, mostly." Either that or cry hysterically. And I'd say "Weep for Willow Rosenberg, if the tears will come. She's gone."

If they'd even bother to do that. 'Cause to them I'm just a tool. For Buffy, Scoobies, schoolmates, family, Rack, mine slaves, Cassie, council, and even to the bastards who murdered Tara (Goddess, Tara - I miss you so much), I'm just a piece of equipment. Or maybe the workhorse.

That's it; I give you Willow Rosenberg, the sweet, pure, reliable, resolute, and ever so usable and eventually disposable workhorse. That's who they think she is. But that Willow is gone now, and she's not coming back.

Of course, it's not like she ever really existed to begin with. And they don't know that.

That thought makes me smile.

* * *

The Speaker of the Chorus was quite agitated. Tranele had taken the news and the assignment... quite hard. More importantly, she did not fully believe her superiors - she bolted off immediately to try to find confirmation that Earth had indeed been destroyed. Quite improper for such a promising young dryad. And very inconvenient; it forced the Chorus to scale back the story. The Speaker told the hysterical dryad that she had not heard the whole affair - somehow, Earth had indeed been saved at the last minute, but Sunnydale was turned into a crater. And, indeed it was true that Sunnydale was a crater. The fact that Willow was not actually... responsible was a minor detail and one not given to Tranele. The reports coming out of Morcalthia of Willow providing some degree of comfort and protection to the Mine's slaves were likewise not provided.

The visions of Willow on Kingman's Bluff, and the spotty remembrances of Willow burning her way through the Morcalthian Mines, conversely, were more useful and appropriate, and were given to the dryad, who had taken to her chambers in an inconsolable state. The Speaker waited an appropriate time to allow the dryad to grieve, and then sent in Counselors to comfort Tranele, and assist her in recalling both her inner strength and her duty to the Chorus. They even assisted her in realizing the "truth" - that her Willow was long gone, and honoring her love for Willow meant killing the monster in her place.

And, at length, the Counselors succeeded. The young dryad faced the Speaker, with as much resolution as she could muster, without breaking into sobs again, without giving into the despair that had destroyed her heart. "I serve the will of the Chorus," Tranele whispered. "What would you have me do?"

The Speaker was pleased. Tranele was indeed quite... promising.

* * *

This is the end of part one of Princess of Twilight.

Part Two, "Measures of Devotion," will begin in a few weeks.