The next day came around too soon. The sunlight peeked into the castle room in an annoying fashion, at least for the vampire. He opened his eyes, but quickly remembered the events of the previous night. He remembered asking Marcelle to marry him, and he coming to her room in the dead of the night. Then, her inviting him to share her bed, and the hours spent wrapped together. He watched her sleep, a small smile that had remained on her lips since the two had passed out. Hand moving, he brushed a strand of hair away from her angelic features, and with a stretch, her emerald eyes fluttered open, that small smile turning up and spreading across her porcelain like face.

"Good morning." She whispered, rolling onto her back and pulling the blankets to cover her naked form. Aiden leaned up, resting on his elbow as he looked down at her, whispering a 'good morning' in return. He was lost in the moment, looking at her in a new light.

"How are you feeling this morning?" He pondered aloud, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. She stretched once more, pushing him back as she rolled on top of him.

"Sore. Thank you very much." The fae giggled, shaking her head. "We have matters to attend to today." With a groan, he rolled her, the two switching places.

"Way to be a kill-joy." The vampire leaned down and kissed her, leaning back and staring down at her. "I vote we stay here for a little longer."
"We can't. And you know we can't." He sighed, arms giving way as he lay on top of the princess. He was pouting, and she simply giggled. "Fine."

. . .

Nearly an hour later, the two traveled down the halls, a solemn look on both of their faces. Today was the day. Sink or swim, and that was their only option. If they stay there, the barrier between the human world and the faery world would be broken eventually, just as it had been before. And so now, they had to fight. They had to kill Damon and take out his army. He was convinced his army would remain loyal to the false king, But Marcelle wasn't so sure.
"Their loyalties are to the king. And if Damon is dead, that will make you their king." It was an argument that would mean the difference between victory and defeat.

"Are you ready to take flight?" The dragon asked of the two as they reached the castle entrance. She stared up at him, body adorned in armor.

"Yes." She whispered, heart pounding at a million miles and hour. She and Aiden mounted the creature and before too long, they were soaring through the air, dipping close to the ground only to pass through one portal to the next world.

"Do you remember the war, My Lady?" The dragon asked, genuinely curious. "It happened quite a long time ago."

"I remember leaving. I don't remember anything else."

"Your mother and father all fought. Your mother was a true warrior. All of the maids threw a fit when they learned they were going to give you a dragon for your birthday. But that was how your parents wanted it. She was a true lady when she needed to be, proper, gentle, beautiful, but when the war broke out, she refused to go down without a fight. You should be proud to have her blood running through your veins." Marcelle looked down at her own wrist and nodded.

"I am. It doesn't mean I shouldn't be scared for today. I'd be a fool to not be." A deep laugh echoed from Scath's throat as he nodded once.

"I suppose you are right, princess."

. . .

The sun was beginning to set by the time the three descended from the sky. Hundreds of men decorated in shining armor stood outside the castle, holding weapons and watching the three. Damon met them at the front of the line with a smile. Riannon stood by his side, hand on her hip as she waited for orders, just like the rest of them.

"Welcome back, brother. Did you have fun with my prize?" His eyes looked the princess up and down, who was more than ready to rip his head from his shoulders.

"You know why we're here, Damon. And I wonder, after you're dead, will your army still try and fight us?" His smile faded as his older brother's words.

"Or does your army fight now for the false king? Technically your brother is the king, being the eldest." Marcelle took a step forward, eyes locking with the vampire's. "Will they even move when I come to rip your head off?" Her feet began moving, slowly at first, then faster and faster.

"Get them!" The soldiers began moving then, three against hundreds. But Marcelle's sights were set on one target. With a smile, her wings spread, suddenly lifting her into the sky.

Scath easily took out hundreds at a time. With one breath, he'd burn dozens into crisps. And with a swing of his spike-filled tail, bodies would fall to the ground, dismembered as if there had been nothing holding them together. And so, Aiden moved, trying to help Marcelle get through the crowd. But she was already floating above all of them. She'd get him before he knew it.

"Your little fly is going to get herself killed, Aiden. Just like you are." He snorted, laughing at the blonde bitch.

"What, by you? Please. You're both going down, tonight."

He was scared. There was no doubt in her mind. The heavy wooden doors slammed shut behind her when she landed, the sound of something scampering across the floor echoing all around her.

"Come out, come out." She whispered, looking about, trying to decided where he was hiding. Waving a hand, black flames emerged from one spot, engulfing a heavy curtain in a matter of seconds. And then, the next set, then tables. "I will burn this entire place down, Damon. Come out. Die like a proper king." Suddenly she turned, leaning back to avoid the swing of a blade. That wasn't fair, at all. But all was fair in love and war, especially in a battle to the death. He swung this way and that, the princess ducking to avoid each and every one of them. But he was too fast. He sliced across her face once, a large mark from her left nostril up between her eyebrows and stopping before her hairline. Her vision was immediately flooded red. The fae heard a laugh echo as she shook her head.

"Down with the queen." He whispered before swinging once more.

'Use your wings. They're blades now.' The voice echoed in her mind, and with a twirl, Marcelle avoided his blade, wings spanning out and catching his neck perfectly. In an instant, he fell to the ground, lifeless.

They hadn't gone all the way through. The false king was a pez dispenser now, only a bit of skin and muscle holding the two pieces together. She used his sword to sever the rest of it and with a smile, the girl made her way to the doors, using magic to open them, presenting the outside world with what she had done. Eyes quickly fell to her, all sorts of different weapons falling to the ground. Riannon screamed in horror at the sight, but as quickly as she was there, the woman was gone, perhaps forever.

"My god." One of them men whispered, looking around. Aiden made his way to the fae, eyes wide as he took in the scene. The two didn't say anything for a long while, just watched each other.

"Does this mean I'm free?" A smile broke out on Aiden's face as he hoisted her into his arms.

"Yes, Marcelle. You're free."