Puck's eyes fluttered open. A hand pressed a bowl to his lips, and he drank. It tasted like vegetable stew. "Good shit," he said, when the bowl had been retracted. "Give the chef my compliments."

"Much appreciated, Robin."

The trickster jumped. "Fission? What are you doing here?"

The general gave him a weary smile. "Your 'babysitters,' as you called them, came back and told everyone you'd run away. I went after you, and found you both frozen in the snow." He paused. "Did you run away?"

Puck shook his head. "We found Thorne, and...the guy's a piece of work, and we ended up losing the babysitters in some kind of enchanted forest shit outside of his house. It was weird." He stopped. "Where's Capala?" He sat up on the bed, looking around for her in the small, dimly illuminated tent. She wasn't lying in either of the other two unoccupied beds.

Fission gently pushed him back down. "She's outside, getting some fresh air. She recovered better than you did, but she's not the one who almost drowned." He frowned. "She's been very quiet, though. She refuses to say almost anything."

"That sounds about right," Robin admitted. "She gets quiet when she's in a mood."

As if on command, Capala entered the tent. "Puck?" she whispered, eyes wide.

"Cap." The trickster jumped up from his bed and pulled into an embrace, pressing his lips to hers. Her skin felt cold from being outside, which contrasted with his warmth from being in bed. Her smell and touch felt comforting beyond measure. When they broke for air, he pulled her close and whispered in her ear. "I'm so glad you're okay."

"Likewise." The woman smiled.

"I hate to bring either of you bad news," Fission interrupted, making both fey turn to look at him, "but we have to go. Quickly."

"What's happened?" Capala asked. The gentleness that had been in her voice only a moment before was replaced by wary apprehension.

"When I left the headquarters to go after you, Gage was planning to attack the Iron Kingdom with Thorne at her side, to strike while they were still rebuilding."

"That's crazy!" Robin shouted.

"I'm afraid I agree with you. The rebellion is...not what I thought it was."

"You are not alone in that," Capala muttered. Puck put his arm around her and held her close.

"Yes, well...that was a few days ago. We may still have time to stop them. They could still be heading out. If we reach the Iron Kingdom first, we can warn the royal forces and perhaps give them the time we need to prepare."

"Then we have to go," the woman said. "We can't waste another minute."

"But are either of you strong enough to travel?" Fission asked.

"We don't have a choice, General," Capala said, her voice low. "It's do or die."

The general swallowed, then nodded. "Then let's ride."

Time seemed to pass in a blur. Now with horses to carry them through the heavy snowfall, the trio of fey flew down the path. Capala's wounds had finally been bandaged with proper wrappings, and Fission had brought with him plenty of extra food. Breads, fruits and dried meat gave them the energy they desperately needed. But no improvements on their current situation could dispel the nervousness in Robin's heart. Would they be there in time to help Meghan and Glitch prepare for the invasion? Would they have the manpower to defend themselves at all?

Or would they be too late?

Puck kept these thoughts to himself and rode in silence. The group followed their steps back through the different trods; back to the rebellion's headquarters, through the forest to the dryads, before finally arriving a few miles out from the Iron Kingdom. "We're close," Fission said. "Prepare yourselves."

"For what?" the jester asked.

"For whatever may lie ahead."

The two men made to ride forward, but Capala stopped them. "Smell the air," she said, her eyes wide.

They did. "Smoke," Puck whispered.

And they rode on. Pushing their horses harder and harder, they flew past the tree line and into the desert surrounding the great city. Smoke rose to the sky and fire gleamed at them even from their distance. Tanks lined around the outer walls blew craters into the steel, making metal squeal and cry against the violent blows. The trio glanced at each other. "We may be too late," Fission said, "but I did not come all this way to turn back. I will die here, for my people, if it means giving you two the time you need to reach the palace and protect the queen."

Capala nodded. "Whether you live or die, Fission, you are a great and honourable man. You will not be forgotten."

"Not least by the dryads," Robin said. "Because of you, what is left of my family is still alive. I can't thank you enough for that."

Fission swallowed, a wave of emotion overtaking him. When he composed himself, his voice was hard and determined. "Then we fight."

The trio launched their horses into the fray, disregarding the smoke and fire and sickness that burning in Puck's lungs. Fission gave out a roar and a sword shone in his hand, pulled from the sheath hung at his waist. He ran towards one of the tanks that guarded the front entrance and stuck out his blade like a lance, sparks rising as metal hit metal. The blade tore open the tank like a knife through butter, the sliced metal red and fiery.

Suddenly, everyone in the area took notice. All the local forces turned away from attacking the wall to fire upon this strange man taken by madness who slaughtered their soldiers and tanks like it was nothing. Puck and Capala took their chance, and forced themselves not to look back as they rode into the city. The sound of Fission shouting and roaring faded away behind them as they were enveloped by smoke.

All at once, the horrible smell and burning of iron consumed the jester. He'd thought the adrenaline in his system might help, but it didn't do shit. The smoke didn't help either, burning even Capala's lungs and making it impossible to see. The woman coughed. "We have to keep going!" she shouted, struggling to be heard over the sounds of screaming, gunfire and explosions around them. "Just keep your head down and go forward!"

Robin did his best. Just keep breathing, he told himself. When we get to the palace, maybe we can hole up in the Summer Wing.

They turned a corner around a bombed building, fresh fires burning in the rubble. Capala coughed. "We've gone the wrong way," she announced. "We need to turn back."

But gunfire met them on the opposite side. Soldiers shot at each other as they climbed the roads, the pair unable to tell which side was which from their inability to see their uniforms in all the smoke. "Keep going," Puck breathed, slumping down on his horse. He felt his body starting to give out. "I...we have to...make it..."

Capala saw him starting to fade and dismounted her horse. She swung onto his, sitting in front of him and spurring the horse to action. The jester placed his arms around her waist and hoped what little strength he had left would keep him on the saddle until they got to the palace. "Just hold on, love," she murmured, kicking the horse onwards despite its protests. "Just stay with me."

They avoided what they could, speeding past bullets and soldiers and all manner of things, never stopping to ask if they were friend or foe. They just ran. Soon they found the palace, the great iron door that marked the entrance bashed open by what looked like a tank. Robin felt light-headed. "Cap," he croaked. "This was...a stupid idea."

"I know, love," Capala replied. "Just hang on. Hold tight."

They raced through the hallways, which were suspiciously empty. The palace seemed quieter than the streets of the kingdom, and it disturbed Capala. "Your Majesty!" she shouted. The horses hooves clacked against the metal floor as the beast came to a stop. "...Queen Meghan! Where are you?"

A distant scream echoed in a faraway room. Capala spurred the horse into action. They raced through the halls, but found a firing squad waiting for them in one of the rooms. Bullets flew past their ears, the pair hunkered down behind the horses neck. The horse was not so lucky. With a pained whinny, it reared back before falling to the ground, it's riders with it. When all three landed, blood dripped from wounds in the horses chest to the floor, soaking into the feys clothes.

Capala squirmed out from under the dying beast and pulled Puck out with her. She took her position behind a corner and began firing on their attackers. Puck struggled to breathe. His lungs refused to move, like a weight was sitting on his chest and keeping him from inhaling. But the terrified scream made him cling to life. Capala didn't hear the shriek over the gunfire, her eyes trained on the half-dozen people fighting them. But the trickster heard it. He crawled across the floor, the steel frying his skin with every movement, until he found the room where he heard the scream.

He arrived in the throne room, the lights on the ceiling flickering and dim. Tapestries on the walls had fallen and dust covered them. The regal chairs at the head of the room had fallen over. Chunks of debris littered the floor. And Thorne was attacking Meghan.

With another scream, Meghan flung a flurry of sparking wires in the assassins' direction. He sidestepped it easily, and a dagger flew from his hand into the wall, just missing Meghan's head. Robin noticed the Iron Queen was covered in blood. "Thorne," he croaked, but neither person replied. No one noticed him in the doorway. He tried to crawl further into the room, to summon any glamour he could, but to no avail. His magic had deserted him, and his consciousness was soon to follow.

"Puck!" Capala shouted, and she knelt beside him. "I scared them off," she explained, her eyes wide with worry. "Are you okay?"

"Don't...worry about me," the trickster choked out, "Thorne is...after Meghan. Save her."

The woman bit her lower lip and nodded, rising to her feet. She strode into the throne room, her gun in her hand and her arm outstretched. "Thorne!" she cried, drawing the two combatants' attention to her. "I won't let you do this!"

Thorne seemed shocked, before letting a wicked smile spread across his face. "It's too late," he purred. His arm moving in a flash, he had Meghan in a headlock, pressing something against her lips before she could react. An instinctual gasp of surprise came from Oberon's daughter, and her eyes widened. Thorne released her and she fell to the floor, both hands around her throat as she started coughing.

"What did you do?" Capala hissed, keeping her gun trained on the assassin.

The man smirked. "Goodbye, Capala. I look forward to our next encounter."

Meghan fell to her knees, one hand wrapped around something embedded in her arm. Thorne turned to saunter out of the throne room, most likely to disappear as soon as he went out of sigh. Robin outstretched a hand to Meghan, but could do nothing. He knew, now, that Capala had a choice; go after Thorne and not let him get away, or go to Meghan's side and hope there was still a chance to save her. In his heart, the jester didn't know what Capala would do. And that scared him.

Without hesitation, the soldier made her choice.

Capala bolted to Meghan's side, lying her head in her lap. As the jester crawled over, he heard the female soldier muttering to herself, almost too fast to hear.

"The poison, down her body...through her veins...few minutes..."

Puck heard Thorne leave the room, one footstep, two footstep...gone. The trickster limped over to Capala's side, vision swimming and his stomach churning. His lungs burned, but he wanted to see Meghan would survive. When he saw her face, he gasped.

Meghan's face had gone an ashen grey. Her eyes were wide and glazed over, her body convulsing as strange noises came from her throat. Some sort of powder left marks on her tongue and lips. Flecks of it stuck to the back of her mouth. "I've seen this before," Capala whispered. "We don't have long."

Capala looked around wildly, searching for something. She jumped to her feet. "Stay with her, Robin!" the woman shouted, before running out of the room.

The trickster took a deep breath and struggled over to Meghan's side. "Hey," he whispered, forcing a smile. He coughed, and felt blood appear on his lips.

Meghan didn't reply. Her body had stopped convulsing, the movements dying down to uncontrollable twitching. Her pupils were dilated, and she fought to keep breathing. "We're gonna be fine, okay Princess?" Still no reply. Puck felt tears start to fall. "Please don't die, princess," he whispered. "I've already lost Aster. I can't lose you too."

Meghan gave a deep, shuddering breath, and Robin felt his body start to give up. "Is this the end?" he asked. "Am I going to go back to Aster? Will I meet you in the afterlife, princess?" He gave another bloody cough, spitting red on the debris-covered floor. "I don't want to leave Capala, not now. But I can't hold on much longer."

Another mortar landed, making the building shake and dust fall down on the pair's faces. The trickster could hear screaming coming from a distant hallway. He let his eyes fall shut. His fingers crawled across the ground, finding Meghan's palm and holding her hand in his. "I loved you, Princess," he murmured. "I always did, and I always will. I guess I've changed too, huh? I'm not Robbie Goodfell, any more. Hell, I don't know if I'm Robin Goodfellow. I feel different, so different now. I don't know who I am."

He squeezed her hand. "But it doesn't matter. We're all the same, in death. I wonder where fey go, when they die. We're not like mortals. There is no heaven, nor hell. Or wherever mortals go, if there are such places. Honestly, I doubt it. But do we go back to our dreams, the dreams that made us? Or do we just go into the darkness, like where I was when I was asleep, but there we never wake up."

His eyes shut, his body aching, Puck felt his breaths come shallower and shallower. He wanted to die, there, on the floor. He couldn't stand being alive any more, couldn't stand the pain or the fear or the worry. As his mind threatened to fall into darkness, he heard Capala run back into the room.

"I'm here- Puck! No, no no no no...shit. Fuck. Fuck." The soldier breathed heavily. She knelt next to him, placing his face between her hands. He felt droplets of water fall on his bare skin. "I can't...I can't...fuck." She took a shaky, sobbing breath. "He'd never forgive me if I didn't heal Meghan first."

Something splashed on the floor next to him, something smelling foul and feeling thick. "Drink," Capala murmured. A few tense, silent minutes passed. Then Meghan sat up beside him, coughing and spitting and vomiting on the floor beside them.

"What...?" the queen croaked. "Robin!"

"I know, my lady. But you were were poisoned. You have to get out of here, get genuine medical assistance."

Another explosion rained down. "But what about-"

"I know." The trickster heard terrible sorrow in Capala's voice. "I'm staying. You run. Glitch and his men are not far off; we're pushing the rebels back, we're winning, and Glitch can get you to a place of safety until we do."

"But what about you?"

"I'm not leaving him."

And then the darkness refused to wait any longer. His senses abandoned him, and Robin Goodfellow knew no more.