As Dagger slid into her bedroom, she gazed down at Zidane. His breathing was gentle and slow, very peaceful and calm. She smiled for a second, before lifting the covers and sliding in next to him.

It must have been midnight or so when Zidane stirred next to Dagger. She rolled over towards him, but didn't open her eyes, simply content to listen to his breathing. It caught her by surprise when she felt a tiny caress against her cheek. She kept her eyes closed, feigning sleep, until she felt him get out of the bed.

She looked up at him. He was turned away from the bed, facing a window. The air in the room was still and cold, and she watched as he shivered.

His back was remarkably healed; mere scars, shrunken and small compared to what they were before, criss-crossed his back. Dagger was thankful for that, but that's not the only thing that caught her attention.

She could hear him sniffling softly. His soft cry tore at her heart. "Zidane?" she asked, grasping a pillow to her chest. He showed no acknowledgement to her. She rose out of bed. "Zidane?" she whispered, clutching a blanket against her body. He looked back at her for a second, before turning to face the window once more. "Please Dagger," he whispered in a soft, broken voice, "Go back to sleep."

"Zidane, whatever is the matter?" she asked, rushing over to him. "Are you in pain?" She ran her hands across his back. He flinched, but not from pain, from fear.

"No," he whispered, his voice no more than a breath of air. Dagger leaned forward and touched his arm, trying to turn him towards her. He pulled away.

"Please, my dear, sweet Zidane, what's wrong?" to Dagger's surprise, he flinched at her words, as if she were verbally attacking him.

"How can you call me that, after what I did to you?" he whispered, turning away from her. The glint of the moonlight from the window illuminated tears flowing down his face.

"What did you do to me?" Dagger asked, genuinely confused. Zidane turned around, with a look on his face that made Dagger want to hug him and never let go; it was a very very distressed look, as if he had been told that he was to die tonight, in the same manner as before.

"I handed you over to Cyra," he whispered. "I condemned you to die at her hand…please, if there is anyway…" How did he know that? Dagger wondered.

"Zidane, I don't blame you for that. Please believe me when I say that." Zidane shook his head.

"Dagger," he sighed, "Garnet….Your Highness…." Dagger shook her head as he fell to his knees before her in supplication. "Please….forgive me."

Dagger straightened her back, standing up tall. She pointed over to the bed. Zidane nodded, before slinking over to it. He lay down upon it, on his side of course.

Dagger walked over to him, but instead of joining him in bed, she set him so that he was in the middle of the bed upon his back. She stretched out his arms and held him there with her hands gripping his wrists. "Stay," she whispered. Zidane stayed.

She released his wrists, and he continued to lie still. Dagger took on an almost smug expression. "You want to be punished for what you did?" Dagger asked. Zidane merely lay there, ready and willing for anything she would do to him, ready to accept it as punishment, and secretly praying that it wouldn't hurt too badly.

All in one quick motion, Dagger swept down and met his lips with hers. She kissed him, holding herself there for a moment, allowing the curious feeling of passion and absurdity to creep over her. She pulled back, laughing softly. Zidane bore a very confused look on his face, but he said nothing.

"You're forgiven," she said, with a soft chuckle deep in her throat. Zidane opened his mouth to object when she covered him in another kiss. He kissed her back this time until she once more pulled back giggling softly.

"Now then," she said. "Do you feel properly punished? We can continue…" she said laughing inwardly at the look of absolute confusion on his face. She leaned down, cupping his face with her hands.

"I don't blame you," she said, "because Cyra is only doing it to get to you," she said, leaning down and giving him a tenderer kiss. "It's not your fault…."

"But if it weren't for me…" Dagger placed her index finger against his lips to hush him.

"I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for you, remember?" Zidane relaxed and enjoyed the next kiss that Dagger gave him. "Please believe me when I say I love you…" Dagger whispered.

Zidane nodded. Dagger pulled back, opening the blanket. Zidane couldn't escape the thought that flicked past in his mind, Angel wings, he thought, staring up at Dagger as she opened the blanket, spreading her arms out like an eagle, before swooping down and enveloping him in the warm blanket, wrapping her arms around him.

"May I be released now?" Zidane asked, only to meet the softest, sweetest laugh from Dagger. She ran her hands up his exposed arms, enjoying the way he quivered beneath her, smiling at that all too familiar look in his eyes that said: take me, I'm yours. Do with me as you will.

She leaned back down again and kissed him tenderly, slowly, and with the greatest love for Zidane that she could give him though but one kiss.

"You're free," she whispered, laying her head upon his chest and sighing softly. Zidane slowly moved his arms in and around her, holding her slight frame protectively. Dagger sighed and cuddled even closer to Zidane.

She fell asleep to the steady beating of his heart.

Malica opened the door. Cyra stood before her. "You know who I'm here for," she said. Malica stared motionlessly for a moment. "Dagger?" she asked.

"Yes, Dagger." Cyra replied in a slightly impatient tone. "I want her here now." Malica sighed and walked over to the bedroom that Dagger and Zidane shared. She couldn't put it off; Dagger was Cyra's.

"Dagger?" Malica asked, looking at the bed where Dagger and Zidane lay, content in each other's arms. Dagger rolled over and opened her eyes. "Yes?" she whispered, waking Zidane in the process. He was behind her, and gently wrapped his arms around her. He looked up at Malica. "What's wrong, Malica?"

"Cyra," she whispered. "Dagger, come here." Dagger stood up and walked over to Malica. "She's here for me, isn't she?" Malica nodded solemnly. Dagger leaned over and kissed Zidane's forehead. He had tiny tears forming at his eyes.

Dagger walked over to Cyra, but the feeling of fear was replaced with anger. If looks could kill…Malica thought, Cyra would be dead on the floor.

Cyra smiled, however, and grabbed Dagger by the arm and lead her out the door. Dagger was surprised to see about three or four inches of pure white snow on the ground.

Zidane ran over to Malica and stood beside her. "Is she…?" he asked, not able to finish the sentence.

"Yes," Malica whispered. "I'm afraid so."

A stroke of pain, acute and agonizing struck Zidane's heart. "No," he whispered, the denial of what was to happen to his sweet Dagger.

Malica disappeared into the back room. Zidane picked up a blanket and darted out the door before Malica knew what had happened.