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Series Summary: The great Dan Phantom makes the Red Huntress an offer she can't refuse. A Christmas sequel to the VALentine thread.

Chapter Warnings: sexual innuendoes, heavy smut toward the end, and language


Deliverance

Shot 61: Dan's Secret Wedding Plans Part 2


The Ghost King Dan Phantom was in the height of glory. He held the whole of the Ghost Zone under his control, his power core humming in delight with new-found infinite power. As he walked the long halls of Pariah Dark's castle—now, his castle—his steps nearly lifted off the tiles.

One of his greatest joys was ordering around the skeleton servants and watching them cower in fear. His red eyes narrowed in a way that anyone except Valerie would perceive as threatening. "Look at this miserable excuse for a castle," he declared to the servants, waving his armored hand to the walls. "I want every inch scrubbed down and cleaned. Take down those disgusting tapestries of the old king. You are to host the official coronation of your new king and queen—and you have done nothing but demonstrate your own incompetence!"

The skeletons fearfully dropped to the stone tiles, bowing on their hands and knees. Their bones rattled from their shaking.

Dan glared at them, meanwhile pleased by their terror. His various dealings with Valerie had severely depleted the ways he could still indulge his darkness, and his small outbursts with the skeletons soothed that need. He wondered if Valerie would fight him on that indulgence too.

(A part of him looked forward to such fights. Valerie's face tinged a particular shade of red when a passion for justice overtook her, and it was unfortunately attractive.)

He demanded, "Furthermore, remove the corpses and the last of those ridiculous traps Pariah Dark had set around the rooms—they are a pathetic disgrace to the majesty of my rulership. Are you getting all of this?"

By that point, one of the skeletons had dared to pull out a pen and paper, and it was madly scribbling down a list of the new king's demands.

Dan allowed a pleased look to ease the tension on his face. "I also want the queen's rooms filled with the jewels and furs from the treasure room. As you know, she has a temper and requires a fitting sacrifice."

As he looked around, the castle was dark and silent, its ancient mechanics still dormant, in waiting for the ceremony to reawaken it.

"And repaint the castle," he said suddenly. "I do not like it red. Paint it white and black instead."

Just then, another skeleton limped out from a connecting hall. "Your Majesty," the skeleton said. Its voice was a grating sound that weakly echoed off the walls.

"What?" Dan snapped, turning around. His silver cloak glimmered in the dim light as he moved.

The skeleton offered up a large box. "The dress, for your queen the Ghost Slayer. It is complete, sire."

Dan's sharp brow raised in curiosity. "Is it, now?" He moved forward and pulled off the box top, carelessly tossing it aside. Then he peered down. And his displeased face suddenly split with a wide, dark grin. "Ah, it is. Very good. Be sure to add the armor and her coronation cloak to the box before anyone delivers it. And do not forget to include the contract."

The skeleton nodded, then said, "You also have a visitor in the throne room, per your request for an audience."

The king's elfin ears perked up. "Is it Frostbite?"

Another nod.

He pulled away, setting the box's top back in place. "…Excellent."


Soon enough, a heavily armored ghost appeared at the entrance of the Amity Park Resistance building, carrying a large white box. The ghost looked entirely out of place, his black armor shining in the sun as he rode upon a red-eyed horse. A small, paper scroll swung from his hip, right next to his infamous sword, the Soul Shredder.

The horse stomped its feet on the snowy ground, huffing in irritation as they awaited the appearance of a certain human woman.

"Where is she?" called out the Fright Knight, his deep voice a boom that rattled the air. "I have business with the one who is called the Red Huntress and the Ghost Slayer!"

Many of Amity Park's citizens still congregated underground, but Valerie Gray appeared within seconds, her red armor shuttering down her body as she swung open the door. "You?" she deadpanned in surprise. She had a piece of gold garland wrapped like a bow in her curls, and she looked entirely irritated at being interrupted. "What the hell is this?"

"Yes, me," said the Fright Knight. "And I serve a new master now." He then lowered the package to her, and his horse huffed again. "This is a gift to you, from the King of the Ghost Zone."

"…Another one?" Valerie challenged, narrowing her eyes. She scanned the skies above them, as if half-expecting Phantom to appear once more. "He sort of dumped Christmas on our front door just yesterday—you're telling me he's got more?"

"The king says this gift could not wait," the Fright Knight declared. He handed it to her. The box seemed to be twice the size in her arms compared to his. He then pulled the small scroll from the belt around his waist and handed it to her as well. "In addition, here are the terms and conditions regarding your union."

In that moment, Valerie looked overwhelmed as she stared at the scroll. "You've got to be kidding me. He actually wrote a contract?"

The Fright Knight ignored her question. "The king requests that you review and sign by midnight tonight, as your coronation is tomorrow."

The woman snatched the scroll away, eyeing the ghost's unsettled horse. "And if I don't like it?"

The ghost paused for a moment, then said, "The king has listed only his demands. You must write your demands as well for him to sign."

"So basically," Valerie deadpanned, "we're having an argument on paper now, huh?"

At that, the Fright Knight began to look genuinely uncomfortable. "I am only the messenger!" he declared loudly. "Take up all complaints with the king himself!"

"And just how the fuck do I get a hold of your precious king when he's in the Ghost Zone?" she snapped. "Do I need a damn carrier pigeon? Are you his customer service hotline? When the hell am I gonna see him again, because he's pretty much left me in the dark on every god damn detail about this whole coronation thing, and it's starting to really piss me off."

The intimidating-looking horse began to step back, sensing Valerie's irritation with everything. It snorted up at its rider, who looked a bit stricken as well. He said, "I…well." Then he tried again. "I shall tell the king that you have requested his presence."

Valerie adjusted the box in her grasp. "Yeah, you do that." The light glimmered off the garland curled into her hair, and she stared unimpressed at the being who would likely become a servant to herself as well. "Now go on, get out of here—I'm trying to hang up Christmas decorations he sent me, and no, I'm not going to tell him thank you because he's the one who ruined the originals in the first place."

The Fright Knight hesitated. Then he wisely decided to keep his mouth shut, and he turned his horse away and galloped up into the sky.

The woman tensely watched him. Before long, the Fright Knight and his mare disappeared into the horizon, and she relaxed slightly, still feeling a cognitive dissonance about the whole thing. She looked down at her hands and tried not to groan.

She had an idea about what it was.

From the front door of the Resistance, one tentative Paulina Sanchez peeked her head out, her black curls tumbling down her swan neck. "Valerie?" she whispered. She wrinkled her nose at the intense cold of the outside world. "Is he gone?"

"Yeah," Valerie sighed. "For now."

Paulina's sculpted brows flew up as she measured the size of the box. "Is that another gift?"

Valerie gave her a pained look, then nodded.

"Dios mio, chica," the woman breathed, pulling her back inside. The last few days had inspired dark circles under her eyes, but the sight of another gift seemed to bring a small spark of hope into her. "How many more do you think he'll send?"

"I got no idea," she sighed. "But—" she dropped the box on the floor— "if he keeps this up, he'll need his own post office."

The inside of the resistance building was still in a bit of shambles, but the debris had been cleared away, with the structurally unsound halls boarded off. They'd managed to set up a single Christmas tree at the entrance, wrapped in more of the gold garland that Phantom had provided. Someone had affixed a new wireless system to the ceiling, with light Christmas music wafting through the air. It was a desperate attempt at normalcy.

Paulina kneeled beside the box while Valerie seemed far more interested in the scroll. "What do you think he brought?"

"Probably another nightmare," Valerie muttered under her breath as she narrowed her eyes at the DP wax seal on the scroll.

"Can I open it?"

"Knock yourself out."

The curious Paulina began to untie the black bow and said, "Do you think this is D, you know, changing him?"

Valerie sighed, still feeling a bit of guilt at keeping the truth from her. "D never sent me gifts. It's probably just Phantom trying to show off."

The Latina pulled off the box top, and her eyes widened. "Oh," she breathed. A new kind of materialistic excitement lifted her voice. "Chica, you have to look at this."

On top of the material was a simple, handwritten note from Dan. Your coronation dress, cloak, and armor. I will open a portal to my castle at dusk on the 24th.

Valerie's eyes widened slightly as Paulina pulled up the shoulder armor, which was made of a dark silver metal. Its plating was sleek and fitted tightly to the outline of her arm. Beneath that was a black velvet cloak. It carried a strange symbol upon the back—Phantom's signature logo had been altered with the inclusion of a 'V' in its design, as if to symbolize their union.

And beneath that was the dress.

Valerie kneeled down beside Paulina in increasing awe. "Jesus," she whispered, her face beginning to tinge with a blush—not from embarrassment or shame, but in genuine, humbled surprise. She almost dared to touch the material with her calloused fingers, and then pulled back uncertainly, feeling too dirty in comparison.

Her friend looked up, a raw hope cracking in her. "This has to be D," she said, her voice soft and determined. "It just has to be."


Back at the Ghost King's castle, Dan slammed open the doors to the throne room, his blood eyes dark in curiosity. When his gaze landed upon his target, he smiled dark and wide. "Ah, Frostbite, leader of the Far Frozen," he greeted. The young king walked to his stone throne, then sat upon it gracefully. "I invite you to kneel before your new king."

The snow monster, Frostbite, maintained his gaze at the tapestries behind Dan's head. Not one hair of his white fur moved. His voice was a strong, deep tone. "Oh, Fallen One, I will kneel at the feet of a king who is worthy," he said. "Such does not appear before me now."

The insult turned Dan's expression into a snarl. His red eyes flashed as he crunched his hands against the stone armrest of his throne. "Wrong answer," he warned. "Choose your next words wisely, or they might be your last."

Frostbite dared to look into the young king's eyes, his ice horns catching the dim glimmers of light in the throne room. There was an enduring sorrow in him, as well as determination. "You certainly have the power now to destroy me. But if you destroy all of your subjects at first test, who then will you rule?"

Dan paused, narrowing his eyes to slits. "You should be aware," he said slowly, "I have secured many vassals who are quick to kneel."

The snow giant waved his skeletal ice paw. "Lying in wait to betray you, no doubt."

"And seeking those like yourself to participate in their rebellion?" Dan challenged, standing up. His long fingers began to glow an irritated red. "You are obviously not here to comply with my demands, so why then should I allow you to leave in one piece?"

Frostbite lifted his muzzle, not the least bit intimidated by the young king's temper tantrum. "On the contrary," he said, "I am here to offer you a deal. I will give you a one-time access to the Infi-Map, in exchange for the safety of my people from your invasions."

The young king blinked at that, his flickering hair momentarily slowing in movement, as if confused. "What?"

"You requested the use of the Infi-Map," Frostbite said. "I will allow it once."

The odd turn left Dan silent as he beheld the strange creature. The red glow of his fingers died away into shadows. His voice was dark. "You do not kneel before me, and yet you offer use of your most powerful relic?" he pressed. "Why do you contradict yourself?"

Frostbite's lip lifted. "Because I know why you want to use it."

For a brief second, the young king appeared stunned. And then something dark and possessive overcame him, and in a blur, he surged toward Frostbite. He slammed the ghost back by the neck, knocking him straight into the wall. "What would you know of my plans?" he hissed. "I've told no one."

The snow monster's large paws swiped at Dan's hand, his muzzle opening in a gasp for air. Despite the danger he was in, his lips were still a bit stretched in a laugh. "You've—become—much stronger—"

"—Dammit, you buffoon, stop laughing," Dan hissed, a vein appearing in his neck. "You're two seconds away from annihilation."

That inspired a genuine smile upon Frostbite's face. His paw latched onto Dan's forearm and tore him away with a great strength of his own. "Ah, but—annihilate me—" the beast said breathlessly— "and the map's power will dissolve. You know how finicky relics are."

Dan paused. He did not want to risk such an end to such a useful relic, and so he rubbed his wrist and gave Frostbite a dark look. "I've not told anyone of my plans for that map," he sulked darkly. "So how would you know?"

Frostbite gracefully readjusted the brooch of his cloak. "A matter of deduction, young one. I've heard you are tying yourself to a human woman—this undefeated Ghost Slayer. But the original companion crown and ring to your own were lost nearly three-thousand years ago."

The young king's lips pressed together tightly.


Sometime later, one Dan Phantom stood in the wastelands of the Far Frozen, his red eyes peering in genuine dislike at the massive ice glaciers and snowy mountains. He held the Infi-Map in his hands, and he stepped forward. "Why are we in your lands, Frostbite?"

Behind him, Frostbite followed, looking around in curiosity. "You asked the Infi-Map to find the missing crown and ring—that means it must be here. Somewhere."

The king grumbled under his breath in irritation, then moved forward, trying to pinpoint the exact location. "If this is a ruse, you will suffer dearly for it." A strong gust of wind blew his hair in a whirl, his cloak flaring out. It was cold enough that his own breath puffed out before him, and he nearly shivered.

Frostbite seemed entirely at ease in the cold, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. "I do not control the workings of the map, oh Fallen One," he declared playfully.

Dan looked up and glared. "Do not call me that."

"And why not? You were once the Great One, the Savior of the Ghost Zone. My people carved your battles into our records of history." The snow monster dared to walk alongside the king. "We had great hopes that you would bring order and balance to the realms. Instead, you fell to darkness and brought chaos."

"Oh, please," the king rolled his eyes, voice dry. "The Ghost Zone was already in chaos, don't be so dramatic."

The older ghost slid his wise eyes toward Dan. "But now you are a king, with the ability to exert an order of your own. What will you do with all of your power and authority?"

Dan sniffed. "In exchange for Valerie's hand, I can no longer terrorize the humans. Therefore, I shall focus my efforts upon expanding my empire here."

The statement should have been enough to chill Frostbite's spine, but an odd pattern in Dan's voice caught his attention. He fell silent for a moment, thinking. "You must think a great deal of this woman, to barter away such control over the humans."

Another gust blew through the snowy valley, and Dan grimaced, biting his lip with a sharp fang. The Infi-Map rattled in his hand.

"But that is not the only thing you bartered, is it?" Frostbite continued in great interest. "I sense a change in your power core—something only I would notice now, but many others will soon. For all of your infinite abilities, you gave up an intrinsic part of yourself to defeat Pariah Dark, didn't you."

The king stopped walking, his combat boots sinking slightly into the snow. He looked up at Frostbite, his red eyes wide in a vulnerable surprise.

"Tell me, youngling," the snow monster asked softly, "did you destroy your own immortality for the sake of wearing that crown, even for a time? Or for the sake of a lifespan matching your queen's?"

Dan in that moment looked genuinely young. He looked away, his eyes in turmoil. When he spoke, his deep voice turned with hesitancy. "I did not have enough power to defeat Pariah Dark. I cut out that part of myself to use its energy for another purpose." He paused. "And for Valerie."

Frostbite fell silent. Most ghosts were not immortal and therefore aged out, eventually passing into another world, but those whose power cores could massively extend an afterlife were often hunted for such. To give up such a coveted ability spoke many volumes of the young king—who was either genuinely insane for rulership or genuinely in love.

He feared it was a little of both.

Dan suddenly turned. "I feel it," he whispered, a longing overcoming it. "The crown." He spiraled up into the winter air, his red eyes searching the valleys. The slight tug in his core was pulling him northward. He flew in a blur, his powerful blast leaving Frostbite—and a tossed-aside Infi-Map—behind in the snow.

The mountains before them surged high into the air, looming like the teeth of a great monster. Dan landed at the base of one. He dropped to his hands and knees, the black opal of his Ring of Rage glimmering upon his gloved hand. "It is here," he breathed. He wiped his hand over the snow on the ground, feeling something metal. A box.

By that point, he had begun to chill, his fingers quivering a bit. He pulled up on the heavy box, and clods of dirt gave way as it slowly loosened from the frozen ground.

Frostbite had caught up by them, traversing the valley on all fours, his powerful muscles gleaming hard in the light. He stood up on his hind legs and shook the snow off of him, slightly out of breath. "You found it?"

Dan set the box down and wiped off more of the snow from its front. In that moment, he appeared to be little more than a young boy playing in the snow, his face eager with delight and suspense. "I feel it," he said again. He wrenched the simple lock off the front and opened the creaking top.

And there it was, encased in red velvet.

He pulled off his gloves to grab the crown, almost reverent. It nearly hummed in his hands with an energy entirely unlike but equal to his own Crown of Fire. Whereas his crown flickered and moved, this crown was a studded, stationary band of four-cornered diamonds, seared together with a silver and green metal. In the box was its matching ring, with the emerald imprint of a sword carved into the diamond.

The power in both of the relics seemed to sigh in relief, acknowledging the nearby presence of their match.

Dan was frozen, staring at them in awe.

Frostbite kneeled beside the king and said gently, "My people have guarded the Crown of Ice and Ring of Courage for generations, in hopes of keeping it from the grasp of Pariah Dark and those like him." His great paws curled Dan's fingers around them. "If this Valerie Gray has so tirelessly protected the human world from you, then she will be worthy to wear this crown. And if you give these to her, I might think you a king worth bowing to."

The younger ghost looked up at him, searching his eyes. "Do you mean that?"

"It has been three-thousand years since anyone was worthy of wearing either crown." Then Frostbite scratched his furry chin. "Of course, there is the issue of confirming your union with her. By the old laws, the king must impregnate the queen before an audience."

"...WHAT."

Frostbite chuckled, and it was a merry, reverberating sound. "Just kidding."


Valerie spread the scroll of Dan's terms and conditions out on her desk, her father leaning over her shoulder. "Damn," she breathed. She ran a calloused finger down the calligraphic writing, still feeling Dan's power in the letters. "Half this shit is in legalese. We got a lawyer who can read this crap?"

Her father looked overwhelmed and stressed as he stared at the contract. Words failed him again, all of the letters blurring before him. At some point, he'd stopped absorbing and had become numb. His daughter had signed her life away to a demon of a man.

Phantom was going to take his baby girl.

"Dad?" her voice snapped into his thoughts. "Hey, did you even hear my question?"

He focused his singular eye upon her, searching her face. She carried no sign of fear or anxiety, only her normal spark of irritation with the world. He raised his arm to touch her smooth cheek, struggling to contain his own his emotion. "Are you really wanting to go through this?"

The gruffness in her softened a bit. She touched her hand to his, then pulled it away from her face. "You heard the deal," she whispered. "And you saw what he did. I can't say no—I don't want to say no, dad."

That burned him. He blinked, and tears rose to his eye. "Baby girl, you don't even know if he really did fuse with D, or if this is all just some illusion to—"

"—I know what I felt, dad," Valerie interrupted shortly, giving him a determined look. "I felt his scars. I felt D in that kiss."

Her father looked nauseated, unable to consider that the taciturn man who'd grown on him was in fact now somehow fused with Phantom, or that Valerie had in fact already kissed Phantom. "And do you think that'll protect you when Phantom gets tired of his charade?" he demanded in pain. "He's not D. If anything, this makes him a thousand times more dangerous, because now you want to trust that monster. And he could turn on you any second."

The woman squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out all of the memories of Dan in his human disguise, feeling her up, moaning her name. Lying on a bed in pain, healing the wounds meant for her. "He won't turn," she said, voice strained. She rubbed her temples. "Dad, you just have to trust me. This is the best shot we've ever had at stopping Phantom once and for all. And D—he laid down his life for mine. That's going to affect Phantom in ways he probably didn't even expect."

"He can't love you." Her father's breath hitched. "Valerie, that beast can't love you. He's a sick sadist, and he'll use D to manipulate you. He could hurt you in ways that I can't even think of."

Valerie looked up at her father. His heart was breaking before her eyes, and a great guilt overwhelmed her, because her father thought her so selfless and innocent. It made her eyes burn. To tell him the truth—that D had always been Phantom, and that a disguised Phantom had wormed his way into her father's heart—was to expose her own treason. She feared the knowledge would kill him. Tears began to brim in her eyes. "Daddy," she whispered. "I'm going to be okay. You just have to trust me."

"Don't prostitute yourself out like this," he begged. "He's pulling you in with all of these promises and gifts. But the minute you complete this union, he'll take everything from you. You heard him. He'll force himself on you and take your pride, your spirit—everything."

She backed away, biting her lip as a flush of emotion rose upon her face. She damned Dan for ever mentioning bedroom duties in his initial proposal. "What, do you really think I'm some kind of weak tart he can just push around? Give me some credit, dad. I can kick his ass into next month whenever I want."

"Yes, before he was the Ghost King," her father cried. He had visions of Phantom dropping a lifeless, bloodied Valerie at the edge of Amity Park. "But, good god, this is different. You're no match for him anymore—he could rape and beat you until you died. Is that what you want?"

Valerie inhaled shakily. "No," she whispered. She wiped her eyes of tears. It was then she began to understand Dan's wisdom of sending along a written contract. It was for her benefit as well as for those who cared about her. "Daddy, that's why I need your help. This contract? Read that top line—it says it's blood-binding and can't be broken without losing the right to rule. So I need your help to go through this. Even if he can't really love me, then we'll revise it so he'll damn well respect me."


Later that evening, Kwan was working in his lab once more, analyzing a brain scan of a concussed patient. As he stood there in thought, the Ghost King Dan Phantom materialized behind him, gracefully settling into the desk chair. His silver cloak hung to the floor, his metal combat boots stretching out before him.

"I wish to speak with you," he said.

The doctor startled, nearly dropping his various other x-ray pictures. "Oh my god." His fingers shook as he back-wheeled in fear, inches away from a heart attack. He turned to look at the ghost king.

Thin lips curled up, revealing sharp fangs. "Hello, doctor."

"Uh," Kwan paused for a minute. Then he tentatively bowed, every line in his body tense with the thought of imminent death. "Y-your majesty."

Dan preened at that, his blood-red eyes glowing in delight. "At last," he said. "The respect due my station. Now tell me, good doctor. I'm rather in a hurry and do not wish Valerie to catch me here. I need help with something."

"I'm actually busy," the doctor said nervously.

"I won't take long," Dan said. He leaned forward. "I require your medical expertise about the human body."

Kwan readjusted the glasses on his face. "Is something wrong with Valerie?" he asked, growing nervous for an all-new reason.

"No." Something in the young king's face expressed his enjoyment at Kwan's concern. "But I have a question I must ask you, in hopes of keeping said status quo."

"And what is that?"

Dan leaned over the desk, his king's cloak slipping over his shoulder in folds. "Valerie is a virgin," he declared. "I desire that she not feel pain when we consummate our union."

Kwan blinked.

And then he blinked again, and his lips slowly dropped open as an unexpected blush crossed his face. "Oh."

Dan searched his eyes without one ounce of shame. "I must know the secrets to increasing her satisfaction," he demanded. "As a medical doctor, surely you understand enough of the female body to provide guidance. And to do so with discretion."

Usually, Kwan had perfect composure with patients. He'd come to understand the body as simply a machine and had delivered enough babies that he did not even blink about it. But Dan Phantom was no simple human—and Valerie was no simple patient. The inanity of Phantom's request made his face twist in nervousness. He readjusted his glasses once again. "I'm, uh—you do understand how human sex works, right?"

The king's face faulted. "Dammit, do not patronize me," he hissed. An odd blush worked its way across his cheeks as well. "Of course I know how to have sex."

It began to hit Kwan that Dan's very actions—of reaching out on behalf of Valerie's well-being—spoke volumes of his care. "Does she know you're here?"

"No." His voice was short. "And I want to keep it that way." He tapped his gauntleted fingers on the desk. "She would be cross with me if she discovered I have come to you with such a sensitive subject."

Kwan gave him a look. Then he sighed and set down his papers on the desk. "You two just won't let me work in peace, will you," he mourned.

"This is more important."

The doctor bit his lip as he stared at the ghost king. After interacting with his human disguise, he could see the resemblances in Dan's facial structure. The familiarity gave him a spark of comfort—that somehow, this being desired to be human in ways. "Have you ever had sex before?"

Strangely, the great and powerful king pressed his lips together. His blue skin flushed up to his elfin ears, and he remained damnably silent.

As the silence stretched on, Kwan cleared his throat. "Right. Well. Uh, pain is partially an emotional response."

Dan narrowed his eyes. "What does that mean?"

"It means," the doctor tried to say patiently, "if she's nervous, she'll tense up. That can cause pain."

The king pressed his lips together. "She grows nervous simply when I touch her—how do you propose achieving a state in which she is not nervous?"

Kwan cleared his throat. Of all things, he could not believe he was having this conversation with the Ghost King. "I mean, if she wants you—and clearly she does, then it's just a matter of giving her control, making her feel safe."

The king narrowed his eyes in thought. "Giving her control?"

Kwan crossed his arms. "It'll probably help to at least be honest with her too. Tell her you've not done this either."

The sass inspired a small snarl on Dan's face, revealing a sharp fang. He tapped his fingers on the desk once more. It simply wouldn't do to be honest with her—she would never let him live it down, after all the times he'd teased her. "Regarding how to increase her satisfaction, are you…aware of any specific tricks?"

The human male rubbed his temples. "Oh my god."


Around 12:00 that night found the ghost king lounging near-sideways on his throne, staring up at the ceiling in suspense and anticipation as he fiddled with the Crown of Ice. He had already sent an entourage to retrieve the contract from Valerie. The minutes were beginning to wear on his minimal patience, and the sound of the skeletons still scrambling to fix the castle made him nervous. Everything had to be perfect.

Everything.

The possibility that something would go wrong made him irritable, and he raised his left hand and shot at one of the skeletons, who squeaked in pain, then scrambled harder with its bucket of white paint. "Move faster," he demanded. "This room still needs to be decorated for the ceremony. It needs gold. And silver. Things that impress humans, do you understand?"

By that point, the whole of the Ghost Zone knew that Phantom was hosting an official coronation for himself and his selected Queen. His vassals were already beginning their long journey to the castle, with many more curious ghosts trailing along to see the coronation.

Frostbite had remained throughout the day and was puzzling at an ancient book from the castle's library. His red eyes lifted from the book. Despite his and Phantom's tentative truce, he could not help but speak up on behalf of the weak. "If you injure your people, Fallen One, they will not work any faster."

Dan rolled his eyes and turned his head to eye the snow monster. "Oh, shut up." He raised the Crown of Ice to view the reflection of fire from the surrounding sconces. "They are skeletons—easily remade and replaced."

"They still have thoughts and feelings," Frostbite pressed.

The irritated king sat up, correcting himself on the throne. His silver cloak spun about him. "And I don't care."

Luckily for them both, the Fright Knight chose to reappear at the castle gates. "Your Excellency," he called out, his voice a boom. "Your queen-to-be is most upset with you but has returned your contract."

Dan stood in anxiety. "What did she say?" he demanded. "Word-for-word, what did she say?"

The Fright Knight dismounted from his huffing mare and bowed before presenting the scroll. "Your Majesty, she said very little but threw this at my head. I assumed that to be a sign of displeasure."

Dan snatched the scroll away, hurriedly opening it for himself and placing it on a nearby, heavily decorated table. He leaned over, his silver cloak spilling down one arm as he spread out Valerie's document. For a time, his red eyes scanned the lines, searching for one particular section. And then his broad shoulders relaxed. "Hn." His thin lips stretched as he read her words. "Oh, Valerie. You devil you."

She had made various additions to the overall document, most of them as protections for herself and the management of the Human World. He did not particularly concern himself with those trivialities, for in the contract was only one particular stipulation that he worried she might overturn. It read as, Engage in other activities suited for marital union as King and Queen, including but not limited to: Ceremonial representation, council advisory attendance, management of castle and empire, fidelity to the union, and satisfaction of sexual needs as expressed within the union.

She'd circled the line about fidelity and satisfaction and wrote in sharp handwriting, You son of a bitch. And then she'd signed his contract. Her signature was hardly above a scribble, the lines as angular and straightforward as her personality. Rushed. Violent.

He found an odd beauty in her name, and his calloused finger ran over the dried ink, as if in disbelief that it was truly there. Valerie Gray.

His entire body ached for her in that moment.

It hit him then that he was surely a masochist, tormenting himself with thoughts of her and enjoying it all the same. It was the anticipation of sex with Valerie. Almost as delicious, he imagined, as the real thing. As touching her bare skin, leaning her naked body back against pillows and watching her full lips gasp his name in pleasure as—

He stopped, feeling his power core rev up and his body grow more bothered. He groaned and closed his eyes to center himself. In that second, he felt awe that his deepest fantasies of Valerie had not do with his own pleasure—but with hers. He wondered if perhaps she had bewitched him in some way to think so.


Valerie tiredly shut the door to her room, leaning her head against the wood. "Oh my god," she whispered, closing her eyes. It was officially Christmas Eve, at 1:00 in the morning, and her father had been nearly inconsolable that the day had already arrived. Paulina had been a bit more hopeful, daring to consider various ways to curl Valerie's hair. Kwan nearly rolled his eyes about it all.

"I'm gonna look like shit tomorrow," she dared to whine softly to herself, exhausted from everyone's emotions. She'd barely had time to eat or think and hadn't even showered the whole day.

Even worse, she still had to perform all of her nightly routines, which would take more time.

Among those routines, she felt a need to search the walls of her room, half-fearful that somehow, the past would come back to haunt her—that perhaps one Nathan Green was still attempting to record her in her bedroom. That he was still stalking her. It left a chill running up her spine.

Then she would think of Dan disguised as D, his body wrapping around hers in panic as Nathan shot—

She squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her lips tightly together. "Stop it," she told herself. Her tired fingers ran along the edge of her dresser mirror in a near-robotic way, having done so often over the last several months. No cameras. No bugs. "I'm fine. It's over. Everything's fine."

Valerie Gray swallowed back her fears, clinging hard to her memories of touching Dan. In some ways, everything felt as if it were a dream. Maybe she'd just dreamt that they'd escaped to Eden for a time, or that he had truly torn down the Shield and proposed and kissed and touched—

She inhaled shakily. Then she sat down on her bed and leaned back. Her curls puffed out around her face as she stared up at the ceiling. There were cracks from where Dan's Ghostly Wail had stressed the supports. She clung to that too. "I've gotta let it go," she whispered. "But how?"

At that point in her daze, she began to realize that her comm was buzzing. Thinking it her father, she activated one arm of her battle suit. Then she pushed the comm button and snapped, "What."

"Are you alone?" came a familiar, baritone voice that was not her father's.

Valerie stiffened in surprise, sitting up in her bed. Her heart raced as she realized the implications of answering either way. "…Yes?"

"I must speak with you in person. Are you in your room?"

She twisted her free hand into the material of her white tank top. "Why the hell do I need to be in my room to talk with you?"

Phantom's voice turned with mischief and longing. "It is regarding personal matters."

The Red Huntress dared to lay back down on her bed and complain, "Dammit, I haven't even gone to bed yet, so you better make this quick. You hear?"

"I'm not a minute man, Valerie. I'll need a little bit, and I imagine so will you."

She blinked. And then her face darkened, her eyes narrowed to slits. She sat up partially on her elbow, her curls bouncing. "That is not what I—"

The huff of amusement suddenly appeared at the corner of her room, echoing softly as a green portal opened. "—Don't get up on my account." From out of the power materialized the lithe image of Ghost King Dan Phantom. He wore a simple, partially opened shirt and tight pants—and Valerie damned him for looking so good. She tried not to look at his pants because after midnight, she had very little tact and would likely say something that would make him frisky.

(Maybe she wanted him frisky? He'd touch her—prove he was real—)

He raised a scroll in his bare hands. "I've brought you a gift. Signed and finalized in anticipation of our coronation tomorrow. I did not change a word from your revisions, which I must say were swift and satisfactory."

Valerie stared at him for a second and struggled not to fixate on his long fingers. "Oh." It was rare to see Dan in his true form without his gloves. She didn't want to let her mind too far about what those hands could do.

The king's head tilted, and it was then she noticed that he was not wearing the Crown of Fire or the Ring of Rage. Instead, both swung from a hook upon his leather belt. She ended up focusing on his pants again. "My eyes are up here."

Damn. She looked up at him, her face blooming with a blush yet again. "Dammit, I know where your eyes are."

His red eyes searched hers, and then a wicked, satisfied smile split his face. "So then you are intentionally checking me out?" He preened like a peacock at that, running a hand through his free, flickering hair. "You are most welcome to gaze upon me in lust, Valerie dear."

She tried to change the subject, fully sitting up on the bed and crossing her legs. "No," she said defensively. "I'm not checking you out. I'm just, you know, making sure you're real. That all of this is real."

The response made him blink. "I believe," he said slowly, his voice dripping in dreadful amusement, "those can be the same thing." He set the scroll down upon her dresser, not losing eye contact with her.

She swallowed hard. "They're not," she argued, mostly for the sake of argument.

"Hnn." He moved closer, kneeling down beside her bed. He angled a brow and leaned his head on his cheek. His strong elbow sunk into her familiar comforter. Like this, she could see down the open collar of his shirt. "Then do define for me the difference."

Valerie huffed, stumbling over herself, "Well, I mean, checking someone out—it's just looking. And—" her face flushed— "proving something's real means you need more evidence. More senses."

"Like touch?" he suggested, tone underhanded.

"Yeah, like touch."

"Then prove to yourself that I am real, Valerie dear." He waggled a brow. "Touch me."

She made a face. "Don't tell me what to do." Nevertheless, she trailed her lithe, scarred fingers down his temple and the sharp of his cheekbone, his skin smooth and cold and familiar. Even that seemed to shoot sparks down her spine.

He leaned into her touch, closing his eyes. He said nothing, because Valerie initiating intimacy of any kind was rare. He did not want to ruin it.

Her rough, raspy voice softened. "Ten months," she accused. "After saving me and almost dying, and then having me help you babysit a kid from another dimension, you just totally disappeared. I still haven't forgiven you for that."

Her fingers trailed over his lips, which were soft. He opened his eyes. He nearly moaned in need as he said, voice strained, "Do not think yourself the only one disappointed with how long it took me to secure the throne. I desired you every night for those months." And then he lowered his head to kiss her scarred fingers, not breaking eye contact with her.

Valerie's face tinged with a blush as she felt the cool edge of his snake tongue skirt against her skin. It sent tingles that settled at the base of her spine, goose-bumping every inch of her body. They had stepped to the boundary of bedroom behavior before—but now, she knew the weight of his every action, like a promise that he would be more certainly doing heavier things with that tongue of his. "I wanted you too," she dared to whispered.

The young king stared at his queen-to-be, who had bloodshot eyes and tangled hair and an old tank top with a dirt stain on it. And he had never seen anything so beautiful. He lifted himself up to kiss her right, planting his mouth fully upon hers.

Valerie eased into the kiss with damnable willingness, weaving her fingers into his loose, flickering hair. The action inspired him to move closer. His bare fingers sunk into the threadbare comforter on her bed, then upon her clothed knees.

His touch inspired her to break the kiss. She was breathless. "Are we really getting married tomorrow?" she asked.

He brushed his nose against hers. "Today," he corrected in amusement. "It is nearly two in the morning. And yes—" he stole another kiss from her— "we are. So long as you desire it."

And good lord, did she ever. Her face was tightened with increasing need from the burn in her body. She didn't know if she would make it to tomorrow at the rate he was making her nerves dance. "You're a jerk," she whispered. "Coming here tonight and doing this."

His cool breath puffed against her. "Doing what exactly?"

"Getting me all worked up," she whispered. "At fucking two in the morning."

He ghosted his lips over hers in triumph. "I still need my villainous kicks and giggles," he murmured to her. "Tormenting you with your own desire is the best thing I have, my love."

And then suddenly, he materialized away, the solid form of his body disappearing. He left Valerie sitting there dazed and wide-eyed on her bed, her full lips still a bit bruised from his kisses. Her breath was still hitched, her heart still pounding.

And then an irritated noise of complaint escaped her, and she looked down at her mussed bed and at her knees, which still tingled with his touch.

She damned herself for desiring him, damned herself again for letting his smart ass into her room, and then heartily damned him for leaving her. "You're so evil," she snapped to the air in exhaustion.

But there was no reply.

Instead, Valerie bit her lip as she lay there, her body uncomfortably ready to make love to a man who was now dimensions away. She whined and then huffed into her pillow, her face still heated. She'd have to get a shower now just to reset her body for sleep. "That fucking bastard."


The day of December 24th dawned in a flurry of activity. Around breakfast time, Paulina flounced into Valerie's room, armed with a curling iron. "Chica?" she called out, apprehensive and excited at the same time. "It's, like, 8:00 in the morning. I can't wait any longer if you want to be ready by three today."

On the bed was a covered lump of a body, with a mop of curls hanging out. Valerie had nested herself deep in the blankets. The lump groaned, voice muffled. "Too early."

Paulina huffed. "You're usually up at five! I let you sleep in three hours."

Valerie groaned again, not wanting to admit how long it'd taken her to fall asleep. "You sayin' it's really gonna take me seven hours to get ready today?"

"If you don't want to be rushed," Paulina said pointedly. "You gotta eat, and we have to do your hair, and then your makeup, and then your dad wants to review the ceremony part of the contract with you again, and then we have to get you in your dress, and—"

"—Oh my god," Valerie breathed. She tiredly pulled off her blankets but then hid her face in her pillow. "Can I just do the ceremony in here?"

"No," Paulina said flatly.

"Why all the theatrics?" she whined.

Paulina moved forward and pulled the blankets off her friend even more. "Because it's not every day that you get married and crowned queen of a realm, and you will be beautiful so that the D side of Phantom will make him love you."

Valerie nearly rolled her eyes as she tiredly sat up. "But D liked me like this," she complained, scratching her stomach and yawning. "What's the difference?"

The other woman poked her with the cold curling iron. "We have to impress Phantom too. That's important."

"I'll just shoot him," Valerie said irritably. She pulled herself off the bed, her hair in a poof and baggy pajamas wrinkled. "He'll have to get used to me like this anyway."

Paulina made a face as she stared at her friend's somewhat childish pajamas, which were blue with pineapples on them and hid just about every single curve that Valerie had. "Oh, chica," she tsked in worry. "You need more help than I thought."

"Help with what?"

She suddenly grabbed Valerie's hand and surged them forward. "With everything." Valerie's eyes widened as she stumbled along.


Over the next several hours, Paulina held Valerie an unwilling captive. She gathered up Valerie's long, curly hair, pulling out strategic strands to frame her face. Then she loosely pulled back the remaining locks and began to form a singular, simple braid. Valerie meanwhile munched on a piece of toast and an apple.

"Did you remember to shave last night?" Paulina asked.

Valerie's face was in a permanent state of disgruntlement. "Yes, I did."

"And like, you shaved everything, right? Not just to the knees or—"

"—Yes, everything."

"Including your, you know?"

"Oh, come on," she hissed, wincing as Paulina pulled her hair. "It's not like he doesn't have hair on his body."

"Yeah, but he's a guy."

"Girls naturally have hair too!" Valerie argued, face in a blush. "Jesus, I'm not getting back in the shower just to shave again, ok? I'm fine. It'll be fine."

Paulina's full lips twitched with a bit of worry, but given how much of a handful Valerie was already, she didn't want to push her luck. "So tell me what the ceremony is? I've only heard pieces from your papa."

The Red Huntress bit into her apple and said, voice muffled, "Starts at three, at Phantom's castle. There's some kind of blood thing where I have to cut my hand and so does he, and it symbolizes some kind of ancient crap or whatever. I get crowned queen. His vassals—our vassals?—give us gifts. And then I…stay the night."

Paulina finished the braid at the end of Valerie's hair, using a diamond-studded band to tie it. She bit her lip. She knew as well as Valerie that it wasn't going to just be some innocent sleepover. "Are you nervous?"

Valerie stared at her own face in the mirror, which was still clear of makeup. "I don't know," she whispered. "If I think too hard on it, maybe."

She could still feel his hands on her knees, his tongue on her skin. He'd held her when she'd cried from nightmares. He'd taken bullets for her. She didn't doubt his desire for her—or her own for him.

She clenched and unclenched her fist. "Does it really hurt the first time?" she asked suddenly. "I can handle pain—I just want to know."

Paulina paused, thinking back. She fluffed some of the curls down Valerie's face, almost in a motherly way. "It won't," she said softly, "if he puts you first. And if anyone can get Phantom to do something, it's you."


That afternoon, a large portal to the Ghost Zone appeared at the edge of Amity Park—a direct gate into the castle of the Ghost King Dan Phantom.

The king in question stood in the balcony, overlooking the great throne room. His many vassals and several other ghosts had crowded along the outer edge of the room. They wore their finest clothes and were setting wrapped gifts along the decorated tables.

He himself had donned dark pants and a partially opened white tunic. The thin, green line down the sides of his pants disappeared into silver combat boots. He wore his shoulder armor and his hooded cloak—which would match Valerie's if she were wearing hers.

He did hope she wore hers. In his desire to work her up the previous night, he'd forgotten to ask her opinion of even the dress.

The Fright Knight's voice suddenly boomed, "Announcing the entourage of Valerie Gray of Amity Park, the Dreaded Ghost Slayer, Red Huntress and Protector of the Twelve Human Cities." And then the doors to the great hall opened.

Dan leaned forward on the balcony, his red eyes searching for his queen.

And then his power core stalled.

Valerie stood in her coronation dress. It was floor-length and hugged her curves, with various inner white silk layers. The outer, asymmetric layers were black silk with silver-threaded patterns. She wore her sleek shoulder armor, the plates hugging tightly to her form. Trailing down her back was a hooded cloak that matched his, with their new DV seal emblazoned upon it.

And she looked genuinely beautiful. His warrior queen, he marveled, especially given the crowd of heavily armed soldiers who marched in behind her, lead by her father.

Valerie's tense eyes searched for him, scanning ground-level until she looked up.

Their eyes met, and he saw hers widen a fraction at the sight of him, the tension in her wearing away for that brief second. Their gazes spoke words. Soft things. Promises.

And then he dematerialized, to reappear majestically before her. "Ah, my queen-to-be," he greeted her, raising his chin as he stared her down. His voice dripped with dark pleasure. "How delightful that you've arrived with several squads of your own army. An early wedding present for me, to kill one by one?"

She unceremoniously crossed her arms, and her armor clinked in a sharp way. "You touch any of my people," she challenged loud enough for everyone to hear, "and I will beat you into the next century, crown or no."

The king's face split with a pleased grin, and a half-way genuine laugh escaped him. His hair and the fire of his crown seemed to flicker faster. "Oh, that spirit," he said in appreciation. "What fire. I do believe you will be a valuable asset for my reign of terror." He then turned to his vassals and waved his gloved hand. "Behold, your most violent queen!"

Valerie gazed about the room. She recognized some of the ghosts. They all looked tense and uneasy as they stared back at her. Several stepped back at her gaze.

Dan turned back to her. "I look forward to that spirit of yours behind closed doors," he murmured in her ear. "You are as beautiful as you are violent, my dear."

Her face tinged red, and her teal eyes narrowed to slits. "Whatever—just get this ceremony over with."

"Anxious for the wedding night?" His thin lips stretched, revealing his sharp fangs. He seemed handsome in a terrible way, as if he were ready to devour her. "I know I am particularly intrigued by how our…battles might carry over into such a different theater of war."

"I'm anxious to confirm my sole rulership of the Human World," she corrected, voice a deadpan. "We both signed the contract, so how do we close this deal?"

Dan dared to look behind Valerie, at the faces of her people and her father. The soldiers were tense, half-ready to shoot at any moment. Her father, the poor old boy, had tears in his eyes, despite the pristine military uniform he wore and the proud, straight line of his back.

"It is simple," Dan said, holding out his hand to Valerie. "Follow me to the thrones."

Valerie hesitated for a brief second. And then she placed her hand in his. His palm was large and cool. His long fingers curled around hers in a way that many had seen D do with her before. The sight inspired a hitch in her father's breath.

Dan turned around and guided her forward. "This castle has been asleep for the last three-thousand years, with no true king or queen to rule it. The previous king, Pariah Dark, was a ruler only in name, as he did not have an equally crowned co-ruler through which to make the dynasty legitimate. As a result, various powers of the ancients were cut off to him. But not to us."

The dark excitement in his voice regarding power made her hesitate. "Powers of the ancients?"

He looked her way merrily. "The fact is, Valerie dear, I require your hand to access those abilities. Abilities that you will share with me."

"What abilities?" she demanded again.

"It's hard to say," he murmured. "No one has seen them in at least three-thousand years." He slipped his hand from hers. "But we shall discover them soon."

Valerie began to feel a tingle of danger down her spine as Dan opened a metal box. The black opal in his Ring of Rage glimmered.

She felt the pull of a great power as he lifted up a diamond crown, its silver and green metal shining in the lights. "This," he said, "was the Crown of Ice, worn by one of the old rulers. It is the opposite match to the crown I wear. Now kneel before me, and I shall place it upon you."

Valerie gave him a hesitant look. "You didn't say anything about power-infused relics," she hissed at him, genuinely uncertain where he was going with this. "That's meant for ghosts—what the hell will it do to me?"

He leaned in, his voice low for her ears alone. "It should connect to your battle suit, which has traces of ectoplasmic power. Trust me, I did my research."

"You should've told me," she hissed back. "Any idea what it'll actually do?"

"Probably make your neck hurt from the weight," he murmured playfully. "Mine is killing me."

She glared at him darkly, searching his eyes. It gave her some level of comfort to know that the Crown of Fire and Ring of Rage had not inherently changed or altered him—and so she began to kneel, albeit reluctantly. "You better take a picture of this," she told him, loudly this time for others to hear. "It's the first and last time I'll ever kneel before you."

A delighted grin crossed his face. "We'll see about that." And then he gently settled the Crown of Ice over her head, the metal glowing. Its ancient powers activated to adjust the crown's size, and it settled against her curly hair as if it had been designed for her, the diamonds swirling with untapped power like a snowstorm.

She blinked. Nothing happened.

The king before her held out his hand and pulled her up. "The Crown of Ice is functional only when used alongside the Ring of Courage." In his other hand, he twisted a silver ring, which caught the light with a green reflection. "Shall we?"

Valerie paused once more. No doubt, he had purposely withheld knowledge of the relics for several reasons—to hide them away from any power-hungry vassals, and to test her own willingness to trust him. "I'm surprised," she said dryly, "you'd give me so much power from your own kind."

Dan looked almost mischievous. "Our wars will be on a different scale in the future. I require a queen who can match me."

His long fingers lifted her scarred ones, and he gently slid the ring onto her.

Immediately, Valerie's eyes widened, and she gasped. She felt it. Oh, she felt it. The ancient power locked in tightly deep within her, acknowledging her as worthy. Her heart beat in a strange way for a second or two. It brought tears to her eyes as she stared at him.

He held her gaze. For a second, the veins in her body seemed to glow. And then it was over, and the power seemed to settle deep within her. She blinked again, realizing only then that she had gripped his hand—and that he had let her.

She quickly turned her head, searching for her father, who had broken formation with the squads to stand a few steps closer, panicked. "I'm okay," she called out, her voice rough. "I'm okay." She pulled her hand from Dan's.

Dan seemed to breathe himself in that second, running his eyes over her briefly. It felt almost as if Valerie had a signature. A bright and powerful ectoplasmic signature, beating in time with her living heart, like waves. She was glowing.

"Now your blood and mine," he said, his own voice rough, "can awaken this castle and establish a legitimate dynasty that not even the ancients would contest." To his right and her left, there was a well-looking cup that stood on a pedestal between the thrones.

Valerie swallowed hard, feeling a bit overwhelmed. Then she said, "Is this where we…?"

He nodded.

At that time, one of the skeletons approached them and kneeled, offering up on a velvet pillow two sharp, ceremonial daggers. They were gold and shined brightly enough to reflect back the images of the king and queen standing over them.

Valerie gave a noise of complaint, not particularly wanting to slit open her palm. "This is stupid," she said. "If the power's so great, why can't it just acknowledge that we're wearing the crowns and call it a day?"

Dan huffed at her. Only Valerie could take something so majestic and turn it into an irritation. "Because," he explained, "the establishment of a dynasty requires two committed rulers. A test is required." He gave her a look. "Do tell me you're not squeamish at a little cut."

"No," she said defensively. To prove her point, she grabbed onto her dagger first and added, "Where the hell do I cut so I can get this stupid ceremony over?"

The king grabbed onto his dagger and said dryly, "Across the palm." And then he slit his hand, his bright green blood rising in a shallow well.

Valerie hardened her gaze, and without breaking eye contact with him, slit her own palm as well. After all of her battles, a little cut no longer even made her flinch. Her ruby blood began to rise in her hand. "Now what."

Dan held out his hand, which was tense from the spill of his blood. "We mix our blood over the well plate."

Valerie knew that, after this, there was no return.

She clasped her slit hand to his, wincing at the pull of her bloodied skin and the sudden, cool sting of his blood upon her open wound. Some part of her thought back to old elementary school admonishments against blood pacts.

Dan's long fingers intertwined in hers. As the seconds passed, the palms of their hands began to drip with a mixed blood—a glowing, muddy brown. It dripped in small trails.

Valerie looked up at him, searching his eyes. Something about all of this seemed too serious. "I'm pretty sure," she whispered dryly, "we've gotten blood on each other before, and it never made us rulers."

Dan's thin lips twitched. "Or did it?"

Their mixed blood fell in droplets onto the well plate. It hissed against the metal. Suddenly, another metal layer encased their blood, and the plate sunk beneath the floors of the castle. The plate then turned, dripping the blood onto an old scroll, with the long-forgotten names of past kings and queens. The scroll glowed, the blood inscribing their names upon their list.

The ancient mechanics of the castle slowly began to awake at that, and the tiles began to glow. For the first time in three-thousand years, the entire lair surged with the power of two legitimate rules.

All of the ghosts in the room immediately kneeled in awe. Soon enough, the squadrons of humans followed.

The only remaining soul who stood was one Damon Gray, who stared at his glowing daughter with bright, teary eyes. He seemed to carry words in him, but he said nothing as he stared at her. Slowly, he kneeled as well, wincing a bit at the action on his old knees.

The sight inspired a great emotion within Valerie. She stepped forward, moving away from the thrones and Dan. She reached out to her father. The power of her Crown activated, and bright light surged toward him, carrying with it her will. The power settled into her father's knee just as he touched the tile, and suddenly the pain in his face eased.

Valerie paused, eyes widening as she stared down at her own hand.

Dan huffed, somewhat jealous of her crown. "Your first action as Queen is to heal a rickety knee?" he complained. "How pathetic."

She turned around, narrowing her eyes. "And you better be careful," she threatened. Her hand activated with her battle armor, and her eyes began to glow again. "I don't know how it all works, but I gotta feeling this thing can pack a punch too."

The king's hackles rose, and his red eyes narrowed in a way that only Valerie would call playful. "I look forward to seeing it."


The next few hours passed in a flurry, with various vassals approaching the new king and queen and swearing fealty. Skeletons swerved between the crowds, offering up a curious mixture of ghost and human delicacies.

The humans, inspired by the display of power in Valerie and by her defiant spirit, began to relax in the hall of the castle. Some even dared to take off their battle masks and eat the offered delicacies of chocolates and fruits.

Valerie sat upon her throne, still trying to adjust to the weird way her skin glowed with power. A part of her wasn't even listening to the vassals and their words. Most of them were ugly-looking ghosts who peered at her curiously, as if they hadn't seen a human before. Some of the other vassals were quite beautiful and majestic and looked down at her humanity in a way that tempted her to face-plant them into the floor.

"How much more of this," she whispered into Dan's ear, feeling her stomach grumble. She rubbed her hand that had been slit, now wrapped with a silver cloth. "I hate sitting here like some doll."

The king had been taking close note of the ghosts who looked down upon Valerie, devising great and terrible ends for them. On his slit hand was a silver bandage similar to Valerie's. "Not much longer," he whispered back. His baritone voice was a soothing sound that vibrated into her. There was merriment in him as he heard her stomach grumble. "Did you not eat before you arrived here?"

"No," she said defensively. "In case you forgot, I had to look good in a dress."

His lips stretched. "Ah, yes. How could I forget. Your table manners are atrocious, and you would have likely gotten a peanut butter stain on that dress. No one would ever believe you were a queen if you ate in front of them."

"Shut up," she hissed, an embarrassed blush rising to her face. "Or I really will punch you."

"I can think of other more creative punishments," he murmured. "Mutually beneficial ones."

The queen sat back in her throne and made a face, just as another vassal walked up the steps to confront them. This ghost was a giant of a snow-furred being, almost from out of a fairytale book. His ice horns and arm glimmered in the same way Valerie's crown did. He bowed before her. "Queen Valerie Gray," he greeted. His voice was a pleasant, deep sound—even fatherly. "My name is Frostbite, of the Far Frozen. I regret that I have no gift for you or the king. But given that your crown was once forged from the mountains of my lands, I offer my services in helping you hone and control your new power."

Valerie, still uncertain about the abilities of her matching crown, as well as her general feelings toward strange ghosts, hesitated. The odd being had not addressed her and Dan—only her. "I, uh, thank you. I'll probably…need it."

"Careful," Dan's voice dripped in dryly. "He's a vicious ghost out for world peace."

Frostbite looked up and smiled. Despite his many sharp teeth, he seemed jolly. "You would know, oh Fallen One."

Valerie's full lips twitched. "Fallen One?" she echoed, sliding her eyes to Dan. "Is that your name here?"

His voice grew defensive. "No. It is not."

"It is," Frostbite cut in. "Do call him that. It ruffles his feathers terribly."

Valerie's face split into a wide, teasing smile. "I like you, Frostbite of the Far Frozen."

"No, she doesn't," Dan added, glaring. "She does not like you. And I don't have feathers to ruffle. Now go away."

The snow beast rose to his full height. "Please think on my offer, Queen Valerie Gray," he said. "I hope to see you become the greatest Queen this realm has ever had." And then he turned away and calmly grabbed a small plate from one of the passing skeletons, pulling up a cup of his most favorite berries.

A moment of silence passed as Valerie watched him. "I really do kinda like him."

Dan narrowed his eyes. "I despise that beast," he said suddenly. "It's so unfortunate that he's useful."

"Yes," Valerie agreed, a playful smile on her lips. "It's very unfortunate, oh Fallen One."

"Dammit, don't call me that," he snapped.

She leaned her cheek in her hand. "What should I call you then, hmm?"

The question made the king pause. "Supreme ruler of all," he said, lifting his chin with a sniff. "The greatest king. The one who shall make your knees weak."

It escaped her attention that as they bantered, her own father approached the thrones.

Valerie retorted, "You don't make my knees weak. You make me want to kick you sometimes."

Dan rolled his eyes. "Fine," he said. "Sweetheart. Lover. How about those? Surely one would suffice."

"No, I don't think—" Valerie was about to respond when the words died in her throat, and she caught her father staring at them out of the corner of her eye. She turned her attention back to the front, as if caught doing something wrong. "—uh, oh, Dad!"

The old man stared at them both curiously with bloodshot eyes. He'd been watching them closely since the beginning of the ceremony and had concluded many things. One of them was that both Valerie and Phantom seemed too at ease with each other to be arch enemies. "Valerie," he breathed. His voice was raw.

Dan cleared his throat, leaning forward in his throne in a haughty way. "And what have you brought us, puny human?"

Damon's singular eye flickered to the king. "I helped give your queen life," he snapped. "She is my greatest accomplishment. I don't have anything worth more than she is."

The retort stayed Dan for a second or two as the two men stared each other down. "How odd," the king said. "I find myself agreeing with you. Damon, is it?"

The father narrowed his eye. "You should know my name by now."

Dan's lips stretched wide in a dark grin. "I suppose this…union makes you, in some way, my father-in-law." He tapped his fingers on the throne. "It's so unfortunate that her dead lover feels great respect for you. His memories color my vision."

"Then respect my daughter," he begged. "Treat her right. Don't break your contract."

The king tilted his head. "It seems," he said casually, "I respect her more than some of your own people. Fear not, Damon. The true snakes lie in your own city."

Valerie cut in. "Okay, okay." She gave Dan a flat look, then turned to her father. "Dad, I'll see you tomorrow, alright? At the Christmas party. Try not to worry about me—and get some sleep. I'll be fine."

The father stepped up once more to bridge the gap between himself and Valerie. With his singular hand, he reached out to her and touched her glowing cheek. He could feel the power in her, almost in awe that this strong woman was his baby girl. It gave him strength that she could and would survive against Phantom. "I love you," he whispered. "And I will see you at the party, safe and sound."

With the greatest reluctance, he gave the king a final warning look and then turned away, stepping back down the stone steps.

Dan turned to her immediately in complaint. "Christmas party?" he echoed dryly.

She straightened her spine. "Tomorrow's Christmas day. Amity Park hosts a party at the city hall every year—and I'm going."

He nearly groaned. "No. The holiday is us. All about us."

"Tonight's about us," she deadpanned. "Tomorrow's still Christmas Day, and you're not keeping me from my favorite holiday."

The king seemed almost ready to complain, but then he thought better of it. He looked up at the clock. He challenged, "If tonight is truly about us, then meet me in the hot springs beneath the castle, in one hour. That should give you time to get out of that dress and eat. The skeletons will guide you there."

Valerie's face heated. "Hot springs?"


Close to an hour later, Valerie dipped her foot into the warm waters of the hot spring, in amazement that such existed beneath the castle. Then she glanced around nervously in the low-light room, which was open and wide, with a ceiling that arced high and glowed. She pulled her thin robe a bit tighter around her otherwise unclothed body. For all practical purposes, she was married now. This had to be some sort of set up in which the Ghost King Dan Phantom would confront her to consummate that marriage.

She inhaled a shaky breath as she pulled off her ring and crown. The glow to her skin quickly dampened away into only an after-burn in her eyes, the power falling back asleep within itself. She didn't know if it were good to remove such relics, but given that she'd seen Dan do the same, she figured it couldn't hurt. Then she untied her silk robe, the cold air striking her body. "Jesus," she breathed, her skin goose-bumping. She rubbed her slit hand and the silver cloth wrapped around it. She quickly slipped into the waters, which were warm and comforting. At their greatest height, they reached her shoulders. She sunk down, feeling her body fizz in delight at the warmth.

Then she heard him.

"At last," breathed a relieved, male voice. Dan materialized through one of the doors, pulling off his cloak. He glowed bright with his power, and it dampened as he pulled off his crown and ring as well. "I chased away the last of the vassals from the throne room. They kept bowing and swearing fealty, and I was tempted to shoot them just to shut them up."

Valerie moved to one of the stony edges of the hot spring, resting her head on her wet arms. Her full lips stretched. "I'm surprised you didn't."

He eyed her, his red gaze roving over the shining slope of her bare shoulder. "I did not want to clean up the mess," he said, his voice fading off in an odd way. He glanced at the silk robe crumpled not far away. "And you are naked."

She smiled, and her teeth glimmered in the darkness. "Smart boy."

His handsome face faulted with a pout. "You got naked without me."

"You took too long."

"Now I have to get naked by myself," he moaned, unbuckling his heavy, spiked armor. It fell to the ground with several clinks that echoed off the walls. "You devil woman."

"Yeah? Well, I noticed you didn't get me anything for Christmas," she said playfully, "so I guess that means you'll have to do."

He slid his eyes to her as he pulled off his boots. "So your title as queen—and all the power I bestowed on you today—that means nothing?"

"Nope." She flipped her long, wet braid over her shoulder. He caught a glimpse of her wet neck. "Not a Christmas present. That was a coronation present."

The powerful ghost couldn't help but tease, "If I am your Christmas present, then that means you cannot unwrap me until tomorrow." He waved at himself. "Which means you are currently naked for nothing."

Her face faulted. "Hey, some people open gifts on Christmas Eve too, you know."

"Except you don't."

Valerie haughtily raised her wet chin. "I am your queen, and I don't follow anyone's rules but mine. I will unwrap you on Christmas Eve if I want."

That inspired a genuine laugh from him. It was a handsome, clear sound that rang like bells off the walls. "Oh, now you wield your title against me."

Her voice was dry. "I'm pretty sure you want to be unwrapped too."

He fell silent as he stared at her, longing to be closer. "I do."

The seriousness of his voice made her swallow hard, their teasing banter dying away. Valerie's heart began to pound a little harder as she watched him unbuckle his belt. Oh god, she thought, her fingers tightening on her own arms. Oh god.

His belt fell to the floor in the silence. "You have no idea," he breathed, "how much I have longed for that. Although I see you're making me unwrap myself."

Her lips twitched. "I like self-unwrapping presents."

Dan licked his lips as he unbuttoned his shirt. "You're so demanding," he complained in delight. He enjoyed the concept of stripping in front of the virginal Valerie Gray, whose face had already reddened in a blush just from the removal of his belt. "You're the most demanding person I know."

"Between the two of us," she pointed out dryly, "you're more high maintenance than I am, mister-I-need-three-hundred-dollar-jeans."

His lips stretched as his white shirt fell to the floor, baring his naked torso to her curious eye. "There is no graceful way to remove pants," he declared suddenly, and then as he walked towards the opening of the hot spring, he simply phased off his dark pants, which crumpled to the floor.

Valerie's brows flew up, and her face heated up to the tips of her ears and all down her body. She tried to focus on his face, but—against every part of her will, her eyes slid down Dan's familiar muscles straight to his narrow hips. Oh dear god, she thought again. He had a white patch of hair that trailed from his belly button down the sharp angle of his abdomen and to the long and thick manhood between his legs.

The only piece of cloth on him was the matching silver bandage around his slit hand.

She swallowed hard as his bare feet treaded down the stone steps. The warm water hissed against his cooler skin, his calves disappearing into the water, then his knees and his thighs, until he stood several feet away, watching her curiously. "Have you nothing to say?" he asked softly.

Valerie turned around, the waters still reaching her shoulders. If she walked closer to the steps, the waterline would recede. Sooner or later, she thought, he was going to see her naked too. She figured she might as well get it over with.

As she walked closer to him, the water slipped off her skin, and her face warmed in strange ways as she watched him.

His lips dropped open, his eyes widening with desire as she rose up from the waters. His eyes fixated on her bare breasts, which rose and fell with her every shaky breath, and then he dared to allow his eyes to follow the inner curve of her torso—then to the swell of her waist, where the water still hid her.

Several parts of his brain shut down, and his own handsome face tinged in a blush that reached up to the tips of his elfin ears. "We are ridiculous," he said, voice rough and strained in increasing desire, "staring at each other like children."

"Yeah," she whispered back, looking back up at him. Like this, she could see the hints of the scars down his back, the edges lifting over his shoulder and his sides. They were familiar scars on an otherwise damnably perfect body. She liked that. "You look good."

His dazed face stretched in a smile. "Ah, the great Valerie Gray can in fact dish out a compliment." He raised his hand and swept her long braid off her shoulder, his fingers caressing up her neck. "How unlike you."

Despite the blush on her face, she didn't pull away from his touching, allowing herself to enjoy the feeling of his cool, calloused fingers. She could feel his want and the tingle down her own spine. "Don't push it," she declared. "You'd preen like a freakin' peacock if I said anything more."

Dan held her gaze, a smile still handsomely stretched on his face. It was strange—to not feel shame at his own blush. To be vulnerable with this woman. To have a vulnerable Valerie only inches away. "You know me too well," he murmured. And then he dared to run his hand down her front.

Valerie's breath hitched, and her skin goose-bumped, even in the heat of the water.

"I think of that night in Eden often," he said to her, his voice strained as his fingers trailed down the swell of her breast, her skin hot and wet. A few silvery scars from their battles marred her—a reason why she had never worn low-cut shirts. "I meant to tell you then. You have great tits."

Her half-amused huff was cut with a shaky breath as she felt him cup her breast, his thumb stroking her hardening nipple. It was suddenly difficult to form words, because his touch felt so terribly natural and good. But then she knew that he wanted to be touched too, and so instead of saying anything, she stood up on her tip toes and pulled his neck down, planting a kiss on his lips.

The powerful ghost hummed in delight of her and submitted entirely. His hands grabbed onto her naked hips, his long fingers kneading into her skin.

Her fingers weaved into his fire hair, and she stretched his lips with hers, touching the tips of his fangs with her hot tongue.

He moaned into her mouth, losing another bit of himself in her. He pulled her closer by the hips.

When her hips jammed into his, a noise escaped her. She broke their kiss, her eyes darkening. "Oh," she said. A deep burn had dropped into her.

"I should tell you something," he murmured. "I've never done this either."

Valerie looked up at him, and for a minute, she said nothing between her gasping breaths. And then that burn in her deepened all the more, and a wave of confidence tore through her. She moved to kiss him again, one of her hands scraping down his front. "You bastard," she whispered between kisses. "Oh, you bastard."

The feeling of her fingernails lit a tight nerve in him. "You never asked," he said, almost singing.

She pushed him in the water, and his back hit the wall of the hot spring. Her face was tight with need. "You fucking—" Words failed her for a second. "You hypocrite."

He almost thought she would pull away and splash him. But then she kissed him again. "You made fun of me," she whispered darkly against his lips, "when all this time you weren't any different." Beneath the water, her hand brushed up against his increasingly hardening manhood, and a tight groan escaped him that then turned into a jaw-dropped gasp when she clenched her hand around him.

His weakness seemed to spurn on her strength, and she smiled in revenge, watching as all of his pride and words and walls came crumbling down. It gave her great satisfaction to watch him weaken.

The great Dan Phantom, tamed at last.

The king leaned his head against the wall, eyes wide as he inhaled breaths he didn't need. In that moment, he was simply a man lost in lust, speechless at her brazen actions.

If she kept this up, he feared she'd outdo him. Which was never acceptable.

In a blur, Dan suddenly turned them, forcing her smaller body until she was between him and the wall. Her blushing face glimmered in the dim light with a bit of surprise.

"You'll pay for that," he promised roughly, voice strained. He grabbed onto her wrists and raised them above her head, pressing his whole body against her as he kissed her hard.

Valerie's lips stretched in a wicked delight against his. Somewhere, she'd lost her shame and didn't know quite when—only that every nerve in her body lit on fire with him. Beneath the water, he jammed his hips into hers, and the tension made her gasp. The way he had her pinned meant she couldn't do anything more but grind back against him, which in fact made the burning between her legs even stronger.

As he kissed her, he loosened his grip on one of her wrists, and his long fingers slipped down her abdomen. The most delightful sound escaped her as every muscle in her body tensed up. She leaned her head back and her back arched, her full lips gasping open as his fingers pressed up hard between her legs. Her free hand scratched down his back in a desperate attempt for leverage.

"Look at me," he demanded.

She slid dazed eyes to his as he touched her.

Dan let go of her other wrist to grab one of her heaving breasts. He could feel her heart beating hard. Her eyes were wild—and he realized for the first time this was the least amount of words they'd ever said to each other.

"You're mine," he said roughly. "All mine."

She gave a whine of need as his fingers possessively hooked into her, and she arched herself into his hands, staring up at the ceiling in awe. She held onto him for dear life, her legs damnably trying to give out beneath her. "Mine," she said shakily, her brain shutting down. "you—"

His thin lips stretched as he began to spread her legs. "Speechless?" he teased.

She turned to face him again, her thighs trembling as she moved against his hands. "Fuck," she whined softly, wrenching her hand into his hair.

That did it. He pulled away from her, only to grab her hips and jam his hard against her. The two of them both tensed up together, aching to close the gap still between them.

In the blur of the moments that followed, the two of them stumbled toward the stone steps, water splashing as they groped at each other. They made it to only the top of the stairs before Valerie found herself lying on her back, with Dan leaning over her on his elbows as he settled between her legs.

He stared into her eyes as he pressed his hips into hers. Her breath hitched, but she did not look away as she spread her legs further.

Slowly, he began to thrust in, and she gasped in delight, their breaths mixing together as they made love.


A/N: *fans self.* Well, I know a lot of people have been requesting some more mature scenes between Dan and Val, and I felt like this thread would be the one to write one in. One thing I do want to be cognizant of is ensuring that said smut isn't pointless, so I do hope you found it worthwhile here. Still trying to learn how to write smut too, haha. Apologies if anything is rushed.

As a quick note, Lady Audentium has drawn several pieces of Deliverance fanart, including one of Valerie in a coronation dress and Dan standing at the balcony. Be sure to look her up on tumblr!

I probably won't get the last part of this sequel up before the new year, haha, so happy new year!

Please review with your thoughts, questions, constructive criticisms, and ideas. Thank you!