The air crackled, and stone grated and spun. The Overlord landed hard with a clash of armor, went to one knee, leaning on his axe. Everything ached, and his ears were still ringing with the sounds of trumpets.

"Witch boy!" Kelda cried, running to his side.

He put an arm around her, grateful, leaning against her. Juno hurried down the stairs, hair in artful disarray.

"We were so worried about you!" she sobbed, hurled herself into his side. "I was so scared they were going to kill you. It was just terrible!"

He caught her with a grunt of pain, patted her back uncertainly.

"There, there?" he said after a second. "I'm alright."

Kelda gave her a dirty look.

You absolute bitch, she thought disdainfully. You spent the whole time painting your nails!

Juno pulled back, making a face.

"Oh, what's that all over your hands?"

"Oh. A bit of blood, sorry. Most of it's not mine."

Juno quailed, twisting to look at the back of her toga.

"This was one of my favorite dresses," she said sadly.

"I'm not surprised they couldn't keep you caged up," Kelda said. "I am, however, surprised that they were stupid enough to even try. Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

She could feel him leaning on her, heard him gritting his teeth with every step.

"We're quite the pair right now, aren't we?" Kelda asked. "Between the two of us, we almost have one whole person."

She helped him pull off the armor, stripping off his bloody clothes, wincing at the bruises that mottled the skin beneath the metal, the black blood leaking slowly from ugly-looking wounds.

"Gods," she muttered. "That doesn't look good."

"It doesn't feel so good, either."

"What is this?" She asked, poking gingerly at what looked like a bone embedded in his thigh.

"Oh." He looked down. "Unicorn horn."

"Brace yourself." She pulled it out with a jerk, pressed clean rags against the wound.

He grunted, teeth grinding. Her hands were shaking, she realized. She tried to thread a needle, tried again, and it fell from nerveless fingers into her lap.

"Damn it."

Her vision was blurring. He took the needle from her and threaded it, stitching up the gash. Kelda wiped her eyes, sniffed.

"Damn it," she said again. "I was so bloody scared, you bastard. What were you thinking, just running in there after the hive like that? What were you-"

The needle snapped between his fingers.

"I know," he snarled. "I know, alright? It was bloody stupid, I blundered right into their trap like the idiot barbarian they think I am." He rose, pacing, black blood dripping down his thigh. "Stupid."

"I- I didn't mean it like that." Kelda rose, startled, caught his arm. "I didn't mean- look- I just-" She sighed, defeated. "I just don't know what I'd do if I lost you again, alright?"

"It will take a lot more than that to bring me down, Kelda." He clenched his fists, furious. "I'm going to crush them for what they tried to do to me."

"I just mean, without you, I-"

"I'll watch their city crumble, and I'll-"

"Gods damn it, witch boy, I'm trying to tell you that I love you!"

Kelda clapped her hands over her mouth, startled. The Overlord stopped short, turned and stared at her.

"Oops," she said weakly. "I didn't mean that."

"Yes, you did," he said slowly.

"Fine." She sat down on the edge of the bed, rubbing her arms. "You're right. I bloody love you, alright?"

"Oh," he said, sitting next to her.

"Oh?" She glared up at him. "Is that all you can say after I've told you, is 'oh'?"

He leaned over and caught her chin in a broad hand, tilted her face up and kissed her, hard enough to wind her. She looked up at him, dazed.

"Oh," she said again.

"When they had me in their damned Arena, when I was fighting for my life...there was a part of me that could only think of coming back to you." His thumb traced her lips, thoughtful. "I can't explain it."

"Of course you can't, witch boy." Kelda nipped at the ball of his thumb. "Nobody can."

He made a low noise in his throat, pushed her back against the bed, gentle for once. He raised her skirts above her hips, slid broad fingers into her, slowly, testing. She smiled, flushing, drew his hips down to hers.

He was gentle with her this time, careful not to hurt her, mindful of her wounds. Still, she gasped as he entered her, pushed her hands against his chest to stop him.

"Are you alright?"

"Let me get on top this time," she said. "Please?"

He wrapped his arms around her, rolled over onto his back. She mounted him, nails digging into his hips. He was so big compared to her, her legs could hardly straddle his. She pulled her dress over her head, almost tearing it in her hurry to get free of it.

"Gods," she whispered. "Why haven't we tried this before?"

He stared up at her, full of some strange sweet ache he was afraid to examine too closely. She threw her head back as she fucked him, auburn hair gleaming in the lava light, lips parted, scars white against her skin. Her hips, her strong thighs were working as she pushed herself against him, muscles taut against his fingers.

He moved a hand up over her hips, slid a hand down her tight stomach and stroked her clit, the motions deft and self-assured. Kelda gasped. Where had he learned to do that?

She supposed Juno was good for something, after all.

"Gods, I love you, you son of a bitch," she growled.

He took his hands away, staring up at her. She smacked his chest.

"What? Did I tell you to stop?"

"Ow!"

"Oh, sorry, sorry!" She leaned over him, face inches from his, wiggled her hips. "Really, though. What's wrong?"

Luminous eyes met hers. He looked strangely troubled. He lifted a hand, brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, unusually tender.

"I think I love you," he said softly. "There's almost nothing that frightens me, but loving you...that scares me."

"Am I really all that bad?" she asked jokingly.

"I'm afraid that, if I let myself love you, and I lose you..."

"Oh, witch boy." She touched his forehead with her own. "Don't be daft. You're not going to lose me."

"But what if something happens, and I-"

"Life happens, witch boy. Losing people you love is a part of living. You grieve, and it's sad, and it hurts, but you keep going." She kissed the bridge of his nose. "That said, I don't intend to leave you anytime soon."

"Gods damn it." He caught her chin in a broad hand, pulled her down to kiss her. "Fine. You bitch. I love you."

Her heart leaped. She returned the kiss with all the passion, all the fury she'd been holding back, heedless of her wounds. He reached up and slid a finger under her choker, pulled her down against him with a cruel smile.

"I like the way you've kept the collar on," he said, voice rough.

"It's not a collar!" she snapped, cheeks flushing. "It's a necklace. Arsehole."

She felt his hand tighten on her ass.

"Is that any way to talk to your Master?"

"I don't have any Master," she said blithely. "I have a witch boy, who I love despite the fact that he's an absolute bastard."

"Oh, is that so?"

He twisted the hand that held the choker, and she gasped, grinding herself against him, reveling in the complete loss of control. She felt him pouring all his rage, his helplessness, his humiliation at being a spectacle in the Arena into her, teeth bared. She pushed him deeper into her, gasping for breath, feeding on his fury, his savagery as he filled her. They came almost simultaneously for once, blood and sweat mingling.

"I love you," he said roughly, slowly, trying out the sound of the words.

She met his gold eyes with her own sea-green gaze and only kissed him in response.

-x-

They spent the next few days mostly in bed, ostensibly recovering. She told him about the hunters, about the wolves, about the Dwarven ruins, saw his eyes kindle when she described the strange war machines she'd seen. His wounds healed quickly, even shockingly fast. When she asked him about it he just shrugged.

"Some kind of magic link with the Tower, I guess?" he said. "Ask Gnarl, he knows more about it than me."

"It seems a bit strange," she mused, flipping absently through a history on the Dwarves.

"What about this isn't strange?" he asked her . He ran a hand down her back, cupped her ass. "I don't think either of us are exactly ordinary, love."

She flushed, pleased at the endearment, turned and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Shall we discuss what we're going to do with the Dwarven ruins?"

He gave her a wicked look that made her heart skip a beat.

"I think that can wait a few hours, don't you?"

She grinned.

"Master..." Gnarl said, voice echoing through the helmet. "There's someone here to see you. I think it's a...female someone."

"I swear he does that on purpose," Kelda groused. "Let her wait."

He rose to dress, a contemplative look on his face. Kelda stuck her tongue out at him, threw a pillow.

"Bastard! You're wondering if she's pretty, aren't you?"

"No," he lied, badly.

"Sealshit. You're incorrigible, you know that?"

"I am, aren't I?" he agreed cheerfully, leaned over to kiss her. "I'll deal with you later, wench."

"Arsehole," she replied, unable to keep the smile off her face.

After a moment, she dressed and went after him. She was more than a little curious- it wasn't every day mystery women showed up out of the blue. And, she admitted to herself, she also wanted to know whether the stranger was pretty or not.

She joined him in the throne room, standing by his side. Juno reclined on a bench beside him, useless and ornamental. Kelda hardly even spared her a glance, intent on the stranger.

A hooded figure stood hunched in the portal, wearing the robes of a Sentinel. There was a face beneath the blue hood, though- she could hardly make out the other woman's features, but there were hard lines around her mouth. She didn't carry herself like a young woman, either. The witch boy was staring at her intently, eyes narrowed. Gnarl cocked his head, studying the strange woman.

"Hang on a moment," he said. "Haven't I seen you somewhere before?"

There was something awfully familiar about her.

Rose pulled her hood lower, shadowing her eyes.

"I have been in many places," she said. "But I am here to warn you of the path you are treading."

Her son- her Thorn- reclined on a vast stone throne, firelight dancing over his black armor, massive axe resting on his knees, every inch the conqueror. He had gotten so tall, she thought. He looked so much like his father. She wondered what he'd grown up to look like, trying to see into the depths of his helmet. Despite everything she had done, despite all her desperate, best-laid plans, he had become the Overlord.

He looked like he was enjoying it, too. Rose flicked a glance over the women beside him, disapproving. One, red-haired and scruffy-looking, was studying her as though trying to figure out how to best gut and skin her. The other...Rose paused, taken aback. The other was the infamous Juno. Descriptions hadn't done the tart justice, Rose thought disdainfully. But even she had to admit that, under all the paint, the girl was quite lovely.

"I have seen it all before," she told him. "The minions. The Tower. The...women. It is a pattern that will lead to your destruction."

He was still watching her, eyes narrowed. She'd forgotten how expressionless the helm could render an Overlord. She couldn't tell if she was getting through to him.

"Nonsense!" Gnarl snapped. "The Overlord is the only one who will be doing any destroying around here!"

Rose gave him a cold look. She wondered if he had bothered to tell her son how his predecessors had met their ends...if he had told him what had happened to his father. As a rule, Overlords did not die peacefully in their beds.

"I have watched you for many years...from the shadows," she said. "You need to see what future awaits you. Seek answers in the old lands. The way is now open. The rest is up to you."

He was clever, and he was quick. He was her son, after all. Surely, if he saw the destruction around the old Tower...if he learned what had happened to his father...he would see reason. There had to be a way for his empire and the one she had built to coexist.

"The potty wench is right!" Gnarl exclaimed in surprise. "Grubby's found a portal! Well...it will be nice to visit the old country again, Sire, even if it is turned inside out and upside down. It will probably be quite chaotic, and dangerous. I would advise extreme caution." He grinned, rubbing his claws together.

Rose stared at him, chilly, wondering how she had ever considered the withered creature a friend. As if he sensed her eyes on him, he turned, gave her a yellow glare, opening the portal beneath her feet.

"Ha!"

She had expected something like this- she'd known the creature for years. She drew the Sentinel's power around her, let it lift her up and carry her away.

"Oh," Gnarl said, sounding nonplussed.

She allowed herself a brief smile of satisfaction, and then she landed hip-deep in the sewers with a most undignified splash.

"Oh, blast and damn," she snapped.

She picked her way out of the sludge, wincing. The Sentinels stood waiting for her- on drier land, she noted wryly. They held a struggling human in their midst.

"What have you got for me, now?" she asked curiously, wringing out her skirts.

"Please, your ladyship, let me go!" The man looked around at the Sentinels, eyes wide. "Please, I have a family!"

She looked closer at him. There was a strange scar on his neck- it almost looked like a chunk of his flesh had been gouged out. The skin of the scar was puckered and seared, like an old burn. She touched the arm of one of the Sentinels.

"Show me," she commanded.

She saw a dim vision of a shanty town hidden in the depths of the sewers, frightened faces peering out at the Sentinels as they swept past. There were hundreds of people hiding down in the sewers, she realized...and most of them looked young...and tough.

"You had a brand there, once, didn't you?" she asked the man. "You're an escaped slave."

He sagged, looking up at her, frightened.

"Please, your Ladyship, don't let them send me to the Arena! I have a family!"

"Also escaped slaves, I assume?"

"Don't hurt them, ma'am, please!"

"Relax. I'm not here to hurt you. I'm...here to help you."

He gave her a deeply suspicious look. She sighed, realizing that most of the Empire citizens had only seen her in the Imperial box above the Arena, knew her only as Marius' cold-shouldered wife.

"Things have changed," she told him. "New variables have entered the equation, and new tactics are called for."

"Uh...what, ma'am?"

"I do not want to hurt you, or your family. As I said, I am here to help you...but I also need your help."

"Why would you need our help, your Ladyship?"

She smirked, eyes cold.

"It's time for a power shift," she told him. "How would you like to help me start a coup?"

"A...a what, ma'am?"

"A rebellion," she said.

He looked at her, and she met his eyes. Slowly, he started to smile.

"I think I'd like that, ma'am," he said. "I think I'd like that very much indeed."

-x-

"Hmm." The Overlord drummed broad fingers on the arm of his throne, staring after the woman. "Gnarl."

"Yes, sire?"

"How do all these people keep getting into my Tower? First it was whingy peasants and Empire citizens. Now it's mysterious, hooded figures. What's next, gnomes?"

"I'm sorry sire, I really did think the portals were more secure. I'll have Grubby look into it."

"I've never seen a Sentinel quite like her before. And she was wielding magic. What do you make of all this?"

"I'm not sure, my Lord. I do think you should explore the old lands, though. I'm sure we could find all sorts of useful things there- and, if nothing else, you can see the old Tower! It truly was a terrible sight in its prime."

"This doesn't seem the least bit suspicious to you?" The Overlord glanced at his adviser, thoughtful. "A mystery woman shows up out of nowhere, claims she's been watching me, and we just suddenly happen to discover a portal to the Cataclysm lands? You don't think this could be some sort of trap?"

"It could very well be, Sire, but really, there's only one way to find out."

"They said I was the source of the Cataclysm, in the Arena." He frowned, troubled. "Gnarl...is that true?"

"No one is really quite sure what caused the Cataclysm, Sire," Gnarl said carefully. "What few clues there may be have been lost in the wastelands."

"Hmm. Well, if I don't follow up on this, it's going to nag at me forever." He stood, slung his axe over a massive shoulder. "Alright. Let's go adventuring."

"Hey." Kelda crossed to him, stood on tiptoe. She pulled the wrappings down from his face and kissed him, with a heat and passion that briefly made him consider staying. "Come back safe, alright? I'll kick your arse if you're not careful out there."

He grinned down at her.

"I'll do my best, love."

Juno started, turned to look at the two of them. Neither of them noticed. He pulled Kelda closer for a second, breathing in the woodsmoke scent of her. Her hands tightened against his back, and then, reluctantly, she pulled away.

"I'll be watching you," she told him warningly. "Don't do anything stupid, now."

He just smiled, pulled the scarf up around his mouth and strode into the portal, vanished in a crack of thunder. Kelda sighed, happy, sitting back.

"Well, well, well." Gnarl hobbled over to her, patted her knee. "You two have finally figured it out, have you? Took you long enough."

"Better late than never."

"Let's see what he's up to, why don't we?"