Disclaimer: I own nothing, except Sophie.
AN: Okay, you all already know that this chapter's gonna be sad, so I've lightened it up a little by adding the introduction of my Timon and Pumbaa characters at the end.
"I know this seems bad sweetie" said Tara, as her daughter glared at her with tear-filled eyes. "But it's like Mommy Willow said last time, I can't just ignore all the bad parts of the story. And it gets better again soon, I promise."
"I hope so" Sophie frowned.
"So, after the herd of animals was gone, Willow ran into the canyon to look for Giles.."
"Daddy!" Willow called, her tiny voice echoing through the dusty gorge. "Daddy, where are you?" The little Princess heard something running towards her and looked up hopefully, but it was only a stray horse who had been separated from the herd. Then, as the clouds of dust finally began to clear, she spotted the King's limp, broken form crumpled on the ground. "Daddy!" she cried, running to her father's motionless body. She tugged on his arm. "Daddy, come on, you have to get up!" She tugged harder, but Giles still wouldn't budge. "Daddy, we have to go home, Mommy will be worried! Help!" she cried. "Anybody, help!" No help came, and when Giles still wouldn't move, she lay beside her father and wrapped her tiny arms as far around him as they could go, sobbing into his chest.
"Oh Willow, what have you done?" came a familiar, evil voice from behind her.
"Th-there was a stampede, h-he tried to save me" Willow sobbed, looking up into her Uncle's falsely sympathetic face. "I-it was an accident, I didn't m-mean to.."
"Oh, of course you didn't" said Wilkins sadly. "Nobody ever means for these things to happen. But the King is dead, Willow. If it weren't for you, he'd still be alive." Little Willow's eyes widened in horror, and Wilkins gasped, wanting to twist the knife just a little bit further, as though letting the poor child think she'd killed her father wasn't enough. "What will your Mother think?"
"What should I do?" Willow cried, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Run away, Willow" said Wilkins. "Run away, and never return." Willow instantly obeyed her Uncle's orders, turning and running as fast as she could. As Wilkins stared after his niece, Spike, Darla, and Drusilla appeared at his side. "Kill her" he ordered, no emotion crossing his face.
As Willow ran, she became aware that the vamps were chasing her, so tried to go faster. She reached the edge of the Sunny Lands, facing a big drop into a patch of thorns, but she had no choice but to take it, so she jumped, and thankfuly emerged out the other side unharmed. Spike, who tried to follow, was not so lucky. He yelped in pain, then clambered back up to the others with a bunch of thorns sticking out of his buttocks. Dru giggled, and he glared at her.
"Look, look, there she goes!" cried Darla, pointing after Willow as she fled into the desert.
"Go get her then" Spike frowned.
"And end up looking like you, Cactus butt? No way" she and Dru collapsed into a fit of laughter. "She's as good as dead out there anyway, and if she does come back, we'll kill her."
"Yeah. You hear that kid?" he yelled after Willow. "If you ever come back, we'll kill ya!
That night, everyone gathered at Sunny Rock to mourn the loss of their King and Princess, and greet their new King.
"Of course, the death of King Giles is a terrible tragedy, but to lose Willow, who had barely begun to live.." said Wilkins. Wesley placed a comforting hand on the distraught Jenny's shoulder, and poor little Tara sobbed into her mother's chest. "I consider it a deep personal loss" Wilkins continued. "So it is with a heavy heart that I assume the throne. Yet from the ashes of this tragedy, we will rise to meet the dawn of a new era," Vampires began to emerge from the shadows, while everybody gasped in shock, "In which Wicca, Slayer, Watcher, and Vampire come together, in a great and glorious future!"
Lorne watched the proceedings from his cave on the edge of the Sunny Lands, sighing sadly. He swiped his hand across the painting of Willow on his wall, smudging it.
Meanwhile, poor Willow had passed out in the desert. Buzzards surrounded her, waiting for her to die so they could have their feast. Suddenly, a young man wearing an eyepatch, carrying a young demon woman on his back, charged at the buzzards, frightening them away.
"Alright, I love buzzard bowling!" the woman grinned, sliding off the man's back. The young man looked at Willow, and frowned.
"Um, Anya, I think this one's still alive, you better come check it out."
"Alright, let's see what we've got here.." The young woman, Anya, lifted Willow's arm, then gasped, backing away. "It's a Wicca!"
"Only a little one" the young man smiled. "She's so cute, and she's all alone. Couldn't we keep her?"
"Xander, are you nuts? We're talking about a Wicca here!" Anya cried. "Wiccas destroy creatures like us."
"But if we look after her now, when she grows up, she might be on our side" said Xander.
"Yeah right.." Anya frowned before her eyes widened. "Hey, I know, what if she's on our side?"
"I just said that" Xander frowned. Anya continued as though the idea was her own.
"It might not be such a bad idea to have a Wicca around" she grinned.
"So we can keep her?" Xander smiled, gently scooping Willow into his arms.
"Of course we can keep her, who's the brains in this outfit huh?" said Anya. "Now come on, let's get her home."
"Well, at least Willow's safe now" said Sophie.