Author Note: This chapter has been beta'd by the amazing Amatara, whose improvements transformed the prose before my very eyes. Any remaining errors are my own.

In the "Legions of Fire" trilogy, the Drakh who gives Londo the Keeper in "Fall of Centauri Prime" is given the name Shiv'kala. He was referred to simply as the Drakh in the previous chapter, as Vir would not have known his name at the time. However, Londo does know it and thinks of that particular Drakh by its name.

Voices echoed around Londo as he struggled through a fog of pain, unable to focus. Somewhere a scream rang out, and his breath hissed between clenched teeth as the sound reverberated in his ears. He touched his hand gingerly to his forehead, feeling that it might split like a rotten fruit at the slightest contact. It was, surprisingly, still intact and without a trace of blood. Strange. He would have thought only violent head trauma, perhaps delivered by a battle-axe, could cause such agony. He tried to open one eye but gagged as the light pierced his skull like a knife through the socket. He pressed the back of his hand against the lids to shut it out. As he did, Vir's face swam before him, but he could not tell if it was a memory or a trick of the light. Hadn't he kept Vir far away?

He blacked out.

When he woke again, the room that greeted him was a familiar one – the Imperial suite with its hanging canopy and garish golden trim. Londo closed his eyes against the light and, in the haze of waking, allowed himself to relax into the pillows as he tried to orient himself. How odd. He had not thought to drink anything the night before. Yes…it was all coming back. He had planned to drink only water, to show the Keeper that there was nothing to fear from Vir. The Drakh were growing suspicious of his drinking habits, only allowing it at all because of their certainty that he would not jeopardize his planet. He had to show them that Vir was inconsequential despite being appointed heir. Yes. There would still be plenty of time to clear the way for Vir's succession. Over ten years before G'Kar came for him. In the meantime, Vir would be safe on Babylon 5, far away from the palace. There he could not ask inconvenient questions, or argue against Londo's policies. He could not lean across a table and ask have you heard of something called 'Drakh'?

Londo shot upright in the bed as the memory burst upon his consciousness. Nausea assaulted his sense at the motion, making him cough and retch. His vision swam as he forced himself to stand. Oh gods, Vir… what had they done to him? He stumbled and fell against the wall, pressing his hand there to steady himself, then scrabbling to find the doorknob. What did it matter if the mad Emperor ran out in his dressing gown? None of it mattered if Vir was dead, if Morella's prediction was false. Vir must follow him as Emperor, he must, or Londo was flying blind, no longer certain if the path ahead of him lead to the salvation of his people. He thought for a moment that his hearts would fail again as he turned the knob and found it locked.

"There is no need to fear," a familiar voice, like the rustle of dry leaves, spoke from behind him. He turned to see Shiv'kala step from the shadows.

"What have you done with him?" Londo said, unable to keep the tremor from his voice.

Shiv'kala blinked its red, reptilian eyes. "He is alive." Londo's legs weakened as relief flooded his system. "He is resting now, while the joining completes."

This brought him up short. "Joining?" Londo said, his brow furrowing.

"He has volunteered to take your place, and we have accepted."

The world seemed to tilt beneath Londo's feet and for a moment he could only stare, his mind utterly blank, as Shiv'kala's words sank in. Somewhere, beneath the blanket of shock, a sense of mounting dread turned his stomach and weighed his limbs down like lead. But these were merely physical responses. His mind was already struggling forward, pushing past the frozen state. If he stopped now, if he paused for even a second to consider the Drakh's words might true, that Vir was in their control…the horror of that thought might mean he would never move again. And then Vir would truly be alone.

Vir. Great Maker, Vir, what have you done? He shook his head to snap himself free of those thoughts before they could drag him under. He focused on Shiv'kala, at first only able to sputter before his words rose to a roar. "Impossible, I am still alive. I am still Emperor! I will not allow it."

Shiv'kala stared down at him, impassive and inscrutable as a pillar of stone. "You are nothing to us now. You will leave this planet, and you will keep our secret lest we destroy it in fire," Shiv'kala said. "The Drakh Entire has agreed. This one is young, and will give us less trouble than you. Do not think we were unaware of your thoughts, Mollari. We know of your prophecies, your plans to reveal us and drive us from your planet. Your punishment for betraying our masters is no longer of importance compared to the threat you pose to the larger plan. But we keep our bargains, and the one you call Vir Cotto demanded your safety in exchange."

"No, no you cannot do this!" Londo snarled, going toe-to-toe with the looming Drakh. Only in a small corner of his mind did he notice how nothing drew him up short, and the lack of threatening pain as he drove his finger at Shiv'kala's cragged face. "This was not our arrangement!"

"It is already done," said Shiv'kala, with no visible reaction to Londo's bluster. "What you will or will not allow means nothing to us." It paused and regarded him him, any emotion it may have felt unreadable on such alien features. "Though I confess, it will be strange for a time, not knowing your mind as I once did. I wonder…why both of you have tried to save the other. Why you think you can."

Londo clapped his hand to his shoulder as Shiv'kala's words penetrated the haze of panic, shock paralyzing his body as he made contact. Nothing. There was nothing to stop him from touching the place where the Keeper had once clung like a bloated tick. There was no second presence in his mind, no dispassionate eye of the Drakh peeling away the layers of his memories and thoughts like a scalpel. He shuddered and exhaled, his hearts thundering in his ears. "Why? Why have you let me go? Why not kill me? Great Maker, why didn't you kill me?"

Kill him so one prophecy at least might have been salvaged: that Vir would succeed him. That Vir would save their people. But that could only happen if he was dead. For the first time since he had first had his death dream he was no longer certain how it would all end, and the steady ground upon which all his decisions had been based crumbled beneath his feet.

"It was not a part of our bargain," said Shiv'kala. He stepped away, his form blending back into the shadows. "Farewell, Mollari, we will not speak again."

"No, I am not finished with you! Get back here!" Londo growled, his hand grasping at air as he tried to seize the Drakh. He spun to face the wall where it had disappeared. "I am the one you wanted! Give it back to me, curse you! Or I swear I will spend my every waking moment hunting you down. I will destroy you, do you hear me? Give it back!" He slammed his fist against the blank wall. "Get back here!"

But there was no answer from the wall, and Shiv'kala did not rematerialize. Londo returned to the door but, try as he might, it remained stubbornly locked. The comm system, too, refused respond to his bellowed orders. And so the first hours of freedom Londo Mollari had experienced in over three years passed unappreciated, drowned in fear and rage.

Londo's head was drooping with exhaustion when the knock came and the door opened. Vir stood there, still in his usual brown suit, his head bowed. Londo rose stiffly at the sight of him, straightening his dressing gown in some poor attempt at dignity. For a moment they stood in silence, as if arrayed against one another in a duel. Then Vir's shoulders sagged and he looked up.

"Hello, Londo," Vir sighed.

"Is it true?" Londo said. The Keeper was not visible on Vir's shoulder, but then again it wouldn't be. For a split second he allowed himself to hope there was still time to prevent this madness altogether. Perhaps it needed more time to recover before it could make the transition. But Vir nodded his head, hands twitching upwards as if to point to where it sat invisible, before a greater force pushed them back to his side. Londo knew the feeling well, and his stomach roiled at the sight.

"Vir…Great Maker, Vir, why? Why did you do it?" Londo said in honest incomprehension. How had he known? And why, after everything Londo had done, would Vir offer himself in exchange?

Vir looked down, avoiding Londo's gaze. "Because you've been alone in this for far too long." His words struck Londo like a blow. It had been years since another had risked his life for him. After years sacrificing him every day at the altar of Centauri Prime, a sacrifice he gladly made, Vir's words were almost incomprehensible. No, this had to be stopped. He could not indulge in the mix of love and warmth that washed over him in a painful wave. He must do what was necessary to save Vir, even if it meant making him an enemy.

"Bah," Londo said, waving a dismissive hand. He turned his back momentarily, so Vir could not see the twist of agony in his face. "I have always been alone. It was my burden to bear, my punishment. You were already destined to be Emperor, must you take everything?" Vir flinched as if struck, his eyes widening. However, any regret Londo might have felt at his brutal, but necessary, words had been burned away during the hours of agonized waiting. "Tell them you no longer want it. Tell them to give it back to me!"

"Londo…"

"Now!"

Vir blinked and tilted his head to the side as if listening. "Londo, they say they don't want to. They've made their decision."

"Oh? And what is it that you have that I do not, hmm?" Londo took a step forward, and glaring at the spot on Vir's shoulder where he knew the Keeper hid. "Do you not recall how I destroyed your master's ships with the crew still inside? Or the time I beheaded your emissary? Oh yes, the amiable Mr. Morden. His face was not so pretty once it was decorating that pike." The air shimmered on Vir's shoulder and the Keeper appeared, its yellow eye fixed on Londo. "You do? Good, good. And what if I told that there are few little surprises I've managed to hide from you and your associates all this time? Well, it hardly matters, since you will never again be in here." He tapped a finger to his forehead.

"Londo, stop it," Vir said wearily.

Londo rounded on him with a snarl, "Do you have any idea what you have disrupted with your so-called help?"

"No, and its best you don't tell me." Vir winced. "It says… that's why they let you go. They expect me to be much more…obedient. And if you act on your plans now…" his breath caught. "They will detonate the bombs one by one, starting with the capital."

Londo opened his mouth for another retort, but at the sight of Vir's eyes, shadowed and defeated, he stopped, deflating with a sigh. "Great Maker, Vir… it was not supposed to be like this."

"You mean the prophecies?" Vir said with a sad shake of his head. "They don't mean anything, Londo. They never did." The old instinct arose to disagree, to remind Vir that 'we Centauri' are certain of these things. But that would be a lie, and that realization was only now crashing down on him. For the first time in his life the vision of his death, which had been so strong, so vivid and unquestionable, had been proven false. He had believed, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the prophecies would come true, that in the end he would save his people even as he died at G'Kar's hands. Had he not, he would surely have gone mad. But Vir did not have this assurance, and Londo wanted nothing more than to contradict him, to offer some small hope even if it was a lie.

Vir grimaced, holding up a hand to stop him. "I don't want to argue with you. I just came to say goodbye." Londo looked up, stricken. "They agreed they would send you to Babylon 5, along with Lady Cantori. She has already been informed that any mention of the Drakh will mean the death of billions. But with you…they say they don't trust you." Vir gulped. "The conditions for your life are that you can never come back to Centauri Prime, and that you won't be allowed to speak of what you know."

"And how exactly do they plan to accomplish this?" Londo said mockingly, but kept his hands clenched at his sides lest they creep to his throat. Great Maker, did they plan to cut out his tongue? Remove his hands? Well, damn them, he would write with his nose if he had to! Whatever it took, he would see them burn. The sensation of anger, the ability to feel after years as their prisoner was intoxicating, but he had no time to savor it. Even now the Keeper stared at him from Vir's shoulder, as if it did not need to touch him to know what he was thinking. He glared back, daring it.

"They won't explain, but they say it won't cause any lasting harm," Vir said. "That was our contract."

"How considerate," Londo sneered, directing his next words at the Keeper. "Tell them they can take their contract and shove it into whatever dark hole they came from. And tell them I hope they are enjoying this little game of theirs because they will not survive it."

Vir flinched at his words, bringing one hand up to cradle his forehead. "Londo," he said, in a pained whisper, "Please, stop provoking them. I know you're angry, but you're only annoying it. They say to tell you that I will pay the price for your insults. They say you know what that means."

Londo froze, his throat constricting in a mix of fear and horror as images of Vir – writhing on the floor in agony, or frozen for hours in the prison of his own body – flashed before his eyes. "Oh gods, Vir…" he breathed. Suddenly all thought of prophecies or destiny fled his mind and he saw was Vir, the Keeper burrowed into his shoulder. All the walls he had built, the fortress of rage he had constructed around himself that was the only thing keeping him upright, crumbled. He swayed as he realized the nightmare image, the one that woke him with greater terror than he had ever felt over the death dream, now stood before him. Vir as Emperor of a Centauri Prime not yet free of the Drakh, a Keeper entwined around his throat, torturing him should he disobey their commands. Londo's hand came up convulsively, to deny what he saw, to comfort Vir, and he stood frozen as Vir watched, his eyes darkened with pain.

"I don't regret it," said Vir, as if wordlessly understanding Londo's thoughts. He drew himself upright despite the obvious pain that twisted his features. "I'm just sorry you had to do this alone for so long. It's going to be all right, Londo. I promise, we'll make it all right." He offered his arms and Londo realized he was bidding farewell, a formal salute between two soldiers. He took the proffered arms, clasping his hands around Vir's wrists. It was only then that he realized Vir was trembling.

The act was abrupt, instinctive as Londo dragged Vir into his arms, being careful not to disturb the Keeper on Vir's shoulder. "I'm scared, Londo," Vir whispered into the crook of his neck. Vir's body was shaking, Londo realized. His vision blurred into a red haze of rage. Rage that the child who had walked onto Babylon 5 all those years ago as his attaché had been forced to watch him scheme and manipulate, and for what? So that Londo might gain Refa's favor? To put Cartagia on the throne? To lose the last of his innocence when he plunged the needle between the mad Emperor's hearts? And now this, to become the prisoner of the Drakh while Londo walked free, his sins like a bloodstain that could never be washed away. He realized he was clutching Vir too tight, but he could not stop because there were no words, no words at all.

Slowly the shaking ceased and Londo could feel the Keeper pulling Vir away, his whole body following the tug at his shoulder like a marionette on a single string. "I have to go now," Vir said simply, his voice free of fear.

In that moment Londo realized his error. This was not the child he had met all those years ago. No, the truth was that Vir had not only become a better man than he, but also a braver one. If Vir trembled it was because he grasped the true terror of what he faced and still would not turn away. And he did so without the lifetime of sins that had weighed Londo down, without the guilt and knowledge of the road that had brought him to a prison he so richly deserved. Vir was not responsible for any of it. Quite the opposite. Of all of them there in that station amongst the stars there had been only one person who had never wavered, even though he lacked power and destiny and allies. Who had stood against the greatest and most formidable forces of the universe without giving in. Of all of them there was no one who deserved the living torment of the Drakh less than Vir Cotto, and perhaps that only proved what Londo had claimed to know but could never truly let himself believe – that the universe was indeed a place of random cruelty and injustice. That there were no prophesies, no paths or predictions of the future to guide the poor mortal creatures hurtling through that pitiless void. For how, in a rational and knowable universe, could Vir receive the punishment for all Londo had done?

"Londo?" He looked up, realizing his hands ached from where he had been clenching his nails into the soft flesh of his palms. He shook himself free of his thoughts and saw Vir looking at him, eyes sad but without a trace of uncertainty. "Don't blame yourself for this. Go to Babylon 5. Be free. I need to know that you're out there somewhere, that it was all worth it. If… if you can give me that much, I think I might be able to make it." And with that he turned away, walking stiffly towards the door.

Londo caught his hand a moment before he disappeared, grasping it in his own. "I will, Vir. Just hold on." Vir turned, their eyes meeting for only a moment before his hand was torn from Londo's grasp. "Promise me you will hold on!" Londo called desperately, willing Vir to hear what could not be spoken in front of the Keeper. I will save you. I will save all of us.

Just hold on.

Author Note: Thank you for reading! There is more to come, but I value your thoughts and comments should you wish to leave them.