Malchior.
A name with many faces. Dragon. Sorcerer. Demon. Monster. But only one name.
Malchior.
Dark had been his reign of terror. Many had been his slain enemies. Powerful he had become. Defeated... by a mere novice. A power he had not recognized. A power he had scorned. The power of light. Of friendship. Of truth. Things he had no concept of. And so he'd been sealed inside of a dark book. There, at least, he'd been able to pass his time reading the tome, studying the spells contained therein. He'd managed to crack the seal binding him to the book, permitting him thought and action. He'd managed to study the powers of light, of friendship, of love and truth. He'd used them as just another tool. Just like he'd used the girl.
And like a novice playing with fire, he had been burned. And sealed back inside of the book to languish for another few years.
Then he had been free, but trapped all the same. Sealed in the body of his own worst enemy, tormented by the shame of being a human, not a dragon, as he was rightfully born and should rightfully be. Again under-estimating the powers of love and light, he'd stolen the powers of hatred and darkness, used them to increase his own might. And it had again proved his undoing. The girl had tricked him, and shattered his physical form by unleashing his powers against him, fueling his anger.
But the essence that was Malchior was not so easily destroyed. Rorek could not do it. Raven could not do it.
So they'd imprisoned him.
His new prison was a black void in the depths of the girl's mind. There was nothing to read. There was nothing to do. There were no doors, there were no windows. There was no escape.
But there would be. Some day, he would be free again.
Until then, he coiled up inside and around himself like a dreaded serpent, and waited.
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"Former Princess Kormand'r of Tamaran."
Blackfire growled, struggling against her bonds, but she might as well have been trying to change the Earth's orbit with her bare hands. They were only the latest and most powerful sort of steel, and engulfed in a sickly reddish glow that was sapping away her natural strength, leaving her weak and helpless. So much so that even a mere human, like the purple-clad technician behind her, could've kept her properly restrained.
Before her stood the impassive, solemn expression of the Martian Manhunter, J'onn J'onez. Her judge and jury. He continued to speak, ignoring her struggles.
"You have been judged a threat to the system of Earth and to it's people by your actions. You cannot be permitted to remain free. Unfortunately, with your alien status you lack citizenship in any country we could possibly send you to in order to face judgment. Coupled with your powers the League is therefore forced to take matters into our own hands," stated J'onn. His cold exterior faded a moment as he collected himself. He did not enjoy doing this, but it was necessary. "Normally in matters such as these, we send the criminal back to their homeworld to face judgment. But..."
"Obviously that's no longer an option!" sneered Blackfire darkly.
J'onn flinched. "It is so. However Tamaran fell under the protection of the Green Lantern Corp, and you have already been linked to a crime that nearly involved a war between the Tamaranians and the Dremthrax. As such, you are offered the chance to face judgment at the hands of the Guardians, if you so choose."
"Submit myself to the judgment of those wrinkled old men!" she asked incredulously. "Are you joking!"
J'onn sighed, having expected such an answer... and not just because he was a telepath. He drew himself up, motioning forward one of his League colleagues, the helmeted warrior from New Genesis, Orion. As he began to fiddle with his Motherbox, J'onn pronounced the sentence. "If that is the case, Former Princess," he stated, again drawing a venomous gaze from the word 'former' being attached to her title, "then the Justice League will pass its sentence upon you. However, know that your sister has asked for leniency in your crime, and the League has taken that into consideration when considering your fate."
"Quick death?" she asked sarcastically.
"Exile," he replied. Orion chose that exact moment to open up the boom tube in front of them, the wind picking up, blowing at J'onn's cape and Blackfire's ebon locks. Gently, but firmly, he made his way towards her and took her from the hands of the technician, moving her towards the open portal. "To a habitable planet several light year's travel from Earth. A trip that would take you much of your life to try and complete, should you again seek revenge on Earth or your sister."
"No! Wait... hey! You can't do this to me!"
"Yes," he replied, with a whisper close to a sigh. "We can."
Blackfire gave off a startled cry of outrage as J'onn none-too-gently pushed her through the boom tube and out the other side, signaling to Orion to deactivate it. Blackfire was now far on the other side of the galaxy, in an uninhabited but livable part of the galaxy where she'd be hard pressed to find anyone without boom tube or hyper drive technology. And though Tamaranians could travel through space without benefit of a spaceship or suit, since they did not require oxygen to breath, it would take Blackfire many, many years to return to Earth... and that was assuming she could even find her way.
Still, J'onn was sympathetic to her plight, and had not enjoyed playing the role of judge and jury for her. But it had to be done. Beside him, Orion was nodding his head. He'd approved of the whole thing, after all. It fit his style of justice. If anything, to him, they were being too lenient on the Tamaranian renegade. He said as much when he turned to exit the nerve center of the Watchtower and made his way to his personal quarters. J'onn, having little need for sleep, returned to his duties in the monitor room, directing those in the League to where they needed to be.
However, when a sub-space transmission came in to the League, his pupil-less eyes opened wide in astonishment as he saw where it had come from.
Could it be...? he thought to himself, hesitantly reaching for the switch to activate the signal.
"Watchtower... Watchtower, are you there?" came the transmission, garbled and filled with static (created, no doubt, by some sort of solar anomaly between here and the signal, mused J'onn). The language was Tamaranian, though J'onn had little trouble recognizing it. During his last encounter with Starfire and the Titans, he'd been privileged to learn the language from her... not in the same manner Tamaranians mastered languages, but by an innate telepathic power all Martian's possessed. Which was why he'd had no trouble speaking to Superman and Batman when he'd first come to Earth.
"Watchtower?" it came again, and the voice and image both came into sharp focus.
J'onn smiled.
"This is Watchtower, in orbit above Earth, Sol System, Sector 2814," replied J'onn, his heavy heart now lightening. "We are receiving you. And let me say it is good to hear from you, Supreme Ruler."
"Thank you," replied Galifore in Tamaranian, his one good eye twinkling merrily. "Can you put me in contact with my Koriand'r?"
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A cursed howl split the air, followed by obscenities and horrible curses that would've sent a sailor running for cover. Cyborg barely flinched as he continued to peer into the monitor at the patient. A dark-haired boy no older than seventeen. One he knew all too well, by now. Brother Blood the Eighth. But gone were his red and black armor, gone were his cybernetic enhancements. He was completely human again. He'd been trussed up tighter than a boar in a anaconda's grasp in a straightjacket, and between that and some magic wards (courtesy of Raven) and some padded walls they'd be able to keep Blood locked up with little fear of him ever breaking loose again.
The Blood Legacy ended here. In Steel City Maximum Security Asylum.
Cyborg smiled, turning to the older man standing beside him. He knew many of them said they looked very similar, bearing strikingly alike physical characteristics. Same blunted nose, same strong chin, same dark skin. The differences in them were there, however. Cyborg, even without his cybernetic skin and bones that gave him his name, was a bulkier, larger individual with wider shoulders. The older man was a more thin, wiry individual. But most importantly, they had the same eyes... even if Victor had only one, and Dr. Silas Stone had two.
And now, they wore the same smiles. Tired but happy.
"Looks like you did good dad," said Cyborg. "STAR labs has been busy, I see."
"Cellular regeneration," replied his father with nod. "Been working on it for years. I kept checking on their progress, having a... well... personal... interest in the subject. We used it on Blood because... well... weren't sure what else to do with him. But it's a complete success. Remove the machine parts, re-grow the body with some new cloning techniques, and transfer the data into memories, and our good friend Blood here is as good as he used to be."
A moment of silence accompanied that, as Silas turned to face his son, placing a comforting hand on the larger boy's... no... man's... shoulder.
"We could do the same for you, Vic, now that we've tested it. We could make you human again."
There, it was said.
All of Cyborg's hopes and dreams laid out before him. Since the day he'd first become a Cyborg, a mix of man and machine, he'd dreamed of a day he could be human again. Brother Blood the Seventh had once tried to use the very offer to make him betray his team. Whether or not he could have actually fulfilled it was another question, but Cyborg had been tempted. The very thought of it made him tremble. To touch, to feel, to be normal again. To be among people without them casting looks his way. To, borrowing a phrase from the Bronze Age, take his armor off. And again, he was tempted. He didn't want to end up like he had at Titan's Tower before Fixit and Spike had rescued him. He didn't want to become... obsolete.
But to Silas Stone's surprise, Cyborg chuckled.
"You know... " said Cyborg, deliberately taking a long time in answering. "I've taken a long time thinking about this. On and off. Wondering about the road not taken... or in this case, blocked off," he added with another soft laugh. "What I could been like if I'd been human. And I won't say I don't miss it..."
He straightened then, and turned back to face his father with a soft, wise smile on his face. "But I realized something else too."
"What?"
"If I was normal... I'd miss being a Titan more."
Silas Stone smiled, amazed how much his son had grown up the past few years. How much he'd learned. How wise now, he seemed. He truly was a man, no longer a kid or even a teen. His mother would've been proud of him, and he said as much, clapping Cyborg on the shoulder encouragingly.
"And what about his dad?" asked Cyborg teasingly.
"Still wishes you had been a scientist," replied Silas with a chuckle. Laughter filled the room, as father and son shared a warm, heartfelt hug. Many years ago an accident had nearly completely torn them apart. Five years ago, Silas and Victor had patched things up now a little, forming a bridge over the chasm that had grown between the two of them. But now, after so long, they were reunited as father and son again. The chasm was gone as if it had never been.
STAR labs could keep their cure, Cyborg would stay just as he was. At least now, he knew, if he wanted something else out of life, the option was available to him. But right now, he had everything he needed. A family, friends, a rewarding occupation, and even a special someone waiting for him. What more could any man really ask for out of life? All that and good looks too.
"So tell me," asked Silas a short while later, picking up one of the metal components lying on a table beside them. One of the pieces they'd removed from Brother Blood. "What did you plan to do with these...?"
"Well the T-Car does need new hubcaps," remarked Cyborg with a smirk.
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Jump City Hospital.
Room 257-489.
Patient's name... unknown. Another John Doe. The closest thing they could find as a label for the dark-haired, comatose boy was Adonis. And he certainly wasn't living up to his namesake at the moment.
The soft beep-beep of the monitor nearby kept careful watch on his lifesigns. The IV drip fed glucose into his starved, shrunken body. The respirator breathed for him. He could do none of these things now. He was a prisoner in his own body. A shrunken, shriveled pale body, sickly and broken. The drug overdose had very nearly killed him. His fight with Beastboy had very nearly killed him too. But Beastboy had been merciful, taking him back here, taking him to the hospital later to try and help him recover.
It might, perhaps, have been far kinder to have ended his life instead.
So he lay, the respirator breathing for him, the IV drip feeding him, the monitor keeping watch over his vital functions. A series of thick leather straps had been put in place to keep him from escaping, but apart from that and one armed guard, no one was terribly worried about the return of Deathfang. He was practically dead already.
Pinprick tiny eyes stared up at the ceiling, stared openly at nothing.
The steady beep-beep-beep of the heart monitor slowed... slowed... the beeps coming less frequently, less consistently. And then finally... a long, screeching noise. A flatline.
Deathfang... Adonis... whoever he was... would trouble the Titans no longer.
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"Are you sure this is really necessary?" asked Beastboy, for what must have been the ninetieth time.
Raven paused, glancing up at him with something of an exasperated look on her face. "Are you keep going to ask that every time I try to do something?"
"Something weird maybe," he deadpanned. "This isn't... anything like what I expected..."
"You would prefer me in a white gown and veil in some Christian church?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow. "Like they do on this ridiculous TV sitcoms you watch every day. Cyborg standing as your best man, Starfire as my flowergirl?" she quipped sarcastically.
He flinched at that, and bit back a sharp retort he would've given just about anyone else, even if it was true. He did tend to spend too much time in front of the television. But instead he smiled gently, relaxing, and placed a hand over hers. "I'm sorry Rae. Go ahead... I trust you."
Raven smiled, her hand still beneath his, she continued to trace the sigils into Beastboy's skin with her fingertips, using the blue paint she'd gathered earlier. She too was covered in such sigils. They were part of the Indo-brium, the bonding, the ritual among the people of Azerath that sought to bind their souls to one another for all eternity, to share pain and pleasure, to live their lives as a single being rather than two individuals.
Basically, marriage.
Beastboy had balked at first, which came as no real surprise. He was still fairly young, after all, hardly at an age to be contemplating marriage, whether he was in love with someone or not. Even the best of men hesitated when faced with the cage of matrimony, and he was no exception. Raven too, was not quite ready, or so she felt, when she'd told him about the idea. Unfortunately, she had little choice in the matter, and neither did he, because of what had happened.
Raven was pregnant.
She could feel it. She needed no doctors to poke and prod her for hours to figure out she was carrying a child, she could sense the little being's mind inside of her, feel the life growing inside of her. Nor did she need a DNA test to know whose child it was. And so Beastboy had done the honorable thing, and agreed to this peculiar Azerathan marriage. He wasn't even putting up much protest, he was keeping still and calm, even if he was driving her crazy with all his questions.
Why were they outside?
To be closer to nature, which is more in-tune with the mystic vibrations of the Earth, she'd replied.
Why here, in the middle of the woods?
Because it is a place of spiritual significance to the two of us.
Why're we covered in blue paint?
To mark the points of our life-energy and open the pathways.
What's with the red string tied around our fingers?
It binds our souls together.
Literally?
Of course not, it's symbolic.
And... uhm... why're we naked?
That had been one of the only questions Raven had not immediately answered to. At least, with anything apart from a blush and a very brief stammering. Finally, she'd managed to reply:
"That's for after the ceremony..."
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Jump City Maximum Security Women's Prison.
Lunch Time.
There were never enough tables, or so it seemed to some of the inmates. They were always crowded shoulder-to-shoulder, which was a lot closer than a lot of them ever wanted to be to one another, especially considering most of them were homicidal maniacs and tattooed freaks, women young and old who were so downright unpleasant and dangerous they had to be kept here. But there was always one table that was always clear during lunch, except when a certain inmate was sitting at it.
Rose Wilson.
And among psychopaths, murderers and far worse, she was given a wide berth.
She scared them. She scared them all with that single piercing blue eye, which always seemed to bore into the inmates soul, looked clear through them and past them, dismissed them as worthless and meaningless, and already dead long before she wished it to be so. At first, some had dismissed this, thinking she was just a little girl in a women's prison, there'd been some mistake sending her here. She didn't even look much like a killer, she was only nineteen years old and practically unmarked, except for that nasty cut on her eye. So some of the inmates had wanted to have some fun with her.
Psycho Sally was still in the infirmary with six broken ribs and her girlfriends Molly and Paige had been given early release from the prison on the condition they left in bodybags, which both had eagerly accepted.
So no one went near Rose. They all kept their distance. Which was fine with her. Rose had a lot to think about. She had a lot to ask herself, a lot of questions that went unanswered. How much of her life had been a lie? How much had her father lied to her, manipulated her, turned her into just another tool? And when her thoughts along those lines grew darker, her mind invariably turned to more terrifying thoughts. Just how much am I like my father, she wondered?
It was a question that kept her up at night in her single-occupant cell (no one had been willing to bunk with her after what happened to Pscyho Sally), staring into the mirror with her single good eye. Her white locks would come down, covering the other half of her face... like a mask... and she'd angrily brush them away.
"How much am I like my father?"
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A cheer arose over the tenements, despite the early nature of the hour. The sun had only just risen a few moments ago, birds had been greeting the dawn. And so was Starfire, who'd been spending the time at the apartment until Titan's Tower was rebuilt. Titan's East had already volunteered to stay in Jump City and help them with it. After all, they owed them a Tower. And things would go a lot faster with the high-speed assistance of Mas Y Menos. That is, if they could keep their focus on their work and not on Starfire.
But she was too giddy with joy at the moment. She'd just received word from the Watchtower. She'd just spoken with Galifore. Nightwing had a link with the Justice League frequency set up in his apartment, directly to a lap-top. The Tamaranians were alive! Not all of them, and Starfire was still depressed, but Galifore and many others had survived the attack of the Sun Eater. They were settling on another planet in the Vega System right now with the aid of the Green Lantern corp. New Tamaran, it was to be called. They were going to build a new world.
All this did Starfire relate to Nightwing when she finally found him. Standing on the rooftop of the apartment complex much as he used to come up to the roof of Titan's Tower. Whenever he had something on his mind, this is where he came. Sometimes to be alone, sometimes hoping to find her, since this was where she came too. To talk.
And so they'd found each other again. It was a different roof, they were wearing different costumes. But their hearts were the same.
"Starfire," he said by way of greeting, turning to face her.
"Iishiok," she whispered softly, nodding her head, then proceeding to tell him all about what had happened. How Tamaran was not completely gone, how Galifore and so many of her people had survived. "Isn't it wonderful?"
He nodded, smiling. "... yeah."
She tilted her head slightly, noticing his hesitation. "You do not seem to think so."
"I'm worried," he said simply.
"About what?"
"I don't want you to leave..."
Suddenly she was inside his embrace, her arms wrapped around him and his around her. "Never," she whispered, burying her head against his chest. They stood there for a long moment, then she gently lifted her head. "Earth is my home," she proclaimed, as if daring him to refute it. "My place is here. With you."
"Iishiok," he whispered back softly, resting his head atop of hers. He said no more. He still was no expert at expressing his emotions, but for her sake... for their sake... he was trying. Just like he'd tried to tell her how he felt when they'd been stranded on an alien planet, alone together. And he wasn't doing much better now. But Starfire, at least, was better at understanding him.
"Why are you out here, Nightwing?" she asked quietly, disentangling herself from his embrace. "Why don't you come inside?"
He pursed his lips in a frown, obviously reluctant to answer.
Sensing perhaps what his problem was, she added, "We have slept together before, you know, this is hardly any different..." she said, thinking he was concerned about sharing the small, one-person bed in his apartment with her. A gentlemen to a fault, he would never ask her to sleep on the floor when he could instead. And she would insist on his sleeping beside her. She'd done so once, while they'd been dating. They hadn't done anything... improper. Just lain beside one another, taking comfort in one another's presence. So it was hardly unusual.
"It isn't that," he assured her. "I just... I'm just so sorry I hurt you, Star..."
She shook her head, crimson strands swishing back and forth. "Misguided though you were, you were doing what you thought was right... to spare me pain..."
"By bringing you more pain," he replied.
She offered a small giggle at that. "When did we learn one another's arguments?"
He gave a small chuckle at that as well, but sobered up quickly, turning back to face the skyline, turning his back to her. "I don't know how to make it up to you."
She offered another small giggle, embracing him from behind, hugging him close with her head resting against his back. "Do you think me cruel enough to demand seven impossible tasks of you, like Tre'ka'r, Father of Dariand'r, demanded of Risholfor?" He sighed softly at that, almost wishing it would be that simple. He'd move the stars if he felt that was the way to prove himself worthy of her again. "Nightwing, my iishiok," she whispered. "I love you. I will always love you, no matter how stubborn you are or what secrets you keep from me, or even if you love me in return. Nothing... nothing... will ever change that."
"I do love you... with all my heart," he replied without hesitation.
"I am the light to your darkness, to keep the darkness in you from consuming you... but you are the shadow to my sun, to keep me from being blinded," she whispered knowingly.
"When did you become so wise?" he wondered aloud.
"I'm not sure when, but I know how," she replied, snuggling into his embrace. "I had a wise teacher," she said. He responded by tilting his body slightly to embrace her with one arm, so they stood facing the skyline side by side, watching the sun rise over Jump City. Nightwing and Starfire still had one arm wrapped around the other's sides as they stared out at the rising yellow orb that gave life and hope to their beautiful world each and every day. Impulsively, Nightwing reached a decision. The same way he'd reached a decision when he'd wanted to step out of Batman's shadow and become his own man. He let his heart guide him, not his head. It was a decision he would not come to regret.
Gently, Nightwing took Starfire's shoulders, turning her to face him, looking her right in the eye, and leaned forward, gently knocking his forehead against hers. She gave a soft gasp, looking up at him in surprise, recognizing the gesture, not allowing herself to hope that it was what she thought and not some coincidence. But no, he'd studied the Tamaranian culture. This was how they did things.
It was easier, in a sense, then getting down on one knee.
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Author's Notes:
Although this is primarily a Teen Titan story, I inserted some recent elements of the Justice League into the portrayal of J'onn, mostly his gradual progression into what might later become a Justice Lord. Comically, Tamaran has been destroyed many times, but the Tamaranians themselves have survived, but I wanted to keep that a surprise until later. Cyborg's comment about missing his life as a hero more than being human I shamelessly stole from New Teen Titans #21: Speedy's First Adventure (also gave me the idea for the scene). The room number Adonis was in was, naturally, the episode number of 'Beast Within' where he first appeared. Part of me did want to have a Christian wedding for Beastboy and Raven, but I realized it would never fly with demon-girl, so I made this slightly more pagan/druidic one, mixing in a number of traditions from other cultures. The red-string tied around one's fingers, in particular, is a Japanese myth about bound souls. Next time: Starfire and Nightwing's wedding... but unfortunately, it doesn't go quite as planned, and a new threat interrupts the sacred ceremony. You thought I was done? You were wrong. Muwahahahaha.
Yomiori-Wolfdemon: You did, and it has indeed aired. You'll see it in re-runs shortly, no doubt.
LoCaD: Ends! I ain't done with you yet! Siddown!
Finn Mac Cool: I'm a sucker for big happy endings. I rarely kill off more than one main character in any of my stories.
Todd fan: Yeah. It's silly and funny British goodness.
Anwen: That sounds wonderful, I'll read it. Feel free to borrow ideas, however.
Blackbird: Why else do you think I end chapters on cliffhangers? Always.
Scathac's Warrior: Eventually, but right now I need a break from fanfiction. But I'll always keep reading and writing.
Ray1: Indeed, isn't it sweet?
ViciousAssassin: Glad you enjoyed the sneak attacks, that was mainly to show the teamwork in the League and allow a chance for outsiders and Leaguers to join in on the fun. But no, Tartarus is quite finished, I assure you. Would I lie?
Ultimate R-Man: It's a superhuman power. Just don't tell anyone, it'll give away my secret identity. And yes indeed, a very important date. But I want the date "The End" airs. I can't wait to see Trigon.
Dragonblond: Glad you're enjoying the story though, and hope you like what comes next... but you might not! Muwahahaha. Consider this payback for your Betrothal Re-write!
TDG3RD: Is answer question? They got exactly as they deserved, nothing more, nothing less.
Piccolo999: JSA? Heck no, JL. The other animated DC show I love. Still disappointed? There's the J'onn you know and love, giving Blackfire what she deserves.
Snea: I know stories like that. But better than that, this is one of those stories you never forget that is actually finished, right? Nothing I hate more than stories ending halfway cause the writer lost interest.
Kokuryu: They certainly have grown up, haven't they? I did hear about the Batgirl/Ravager clash... it should be interesting. My money's on Ravager though, she's got that serum and precog power.