Fay was surprised to find that she was, after some reflection, lonely.

She had spent her life, after all, surrounded by all sorts of magical creatures. If she'd ever wanted to talk to anyone, all she had to do was find the nearest tree and call for a dryad. In the Sanctuaries, she'd been surrounded by the living magic of her realm. Here, she was surrounded by cold, dead stone.

The little creatures that infested the Scourge's realm were poor company. They seemed more than a little wary of her, skittering off around corners whenever she caught them leering at her. They didn't seem smart enough to have a decent conversation with, in any case.

The other Mistresses weren't much of an improvement. The peasant girl, Kelda, was at the very least openly hostile. Juno, the Imperial, was polished and poisonous, with a smile that hinted at daggers in the dark. Fay had been dismayed to find that the Scourge had taken other mistresses before her, and the other two had done little enough to make her feel welcome.

And as for the Scourge himself...aside from their earlier altercation, he'd hardly spoken to her. She hadn't even seen his face, she realized. For the Goddess' sake, she didn't even know if he was elvish, or human, or something else altogether.

She didn't like being left alone with her thoughts. She had too many bad memories, and it was too easy for the black bird to find her here, to spread wings heavy with guilt and despair.

Troubled, she wandered through the Netherworld. None of the Scourge's little goblins tried to stop her, though she could sense yellow eyes on her back as she drifted past. She passed lava flowing through living stone, and great, strange statues that seemed to watch her. She walked over floating platforms and suspended bridges, her reflection staring back at her from vast crystals, looking lost and lonely.

The air began to grow hot. She could smell hot metal and oil. She heard the gibber of minions from up ahead, and then, a deeper bass rumble as the Scourge said something in reply. She drifted closer. She wasn't sure what she would say to him, she thought, but she needed to do something, lest she linger like a ghost below the earth for the rest of her days.

"Master, what you do to this?" she heard one of the little goblins cry. "What do this?"

"Oh. That was from a Spider Queen. She almost got through the steel!"

"Oh, Master. Giblet not sure if can fix this."

"Are you sure?" The Scourge sounded disappointed. "That armor has a lot of character."

"Don't worry, Master. We make new armor! Better armor! Spikier armor!"

She could hear the clang of hammers, the rush of bellows. It was infernally hot. Even she was beginning to sweat. Fay glided into the heart of the forge, curious.

"Master."

A minion tugged at his pant leg. He turned, set a great hammer down with grunt.

"Fay?" He frowned. "Are you looking for something?"

She found herself staring. He was stripped to the waist in the heat of the forge. Dark, unruly hair framed a sharp-angled face, delicate patterns tracing their way over high cheekbones. He wasn't half bad, she thought, in a hard-featured, feral sort of way.

"I think I might have found it," she said faintly.

"Ha." He said dryly, picked up the hammer again.

She drifted closer.

"What are you doing?"

"Working."

"Well, yes, I can see that, but on what?"

"Armor," he said tightly.

He swung the vast hammer, hit steel with a clang that made her wince. The minions joined him, hammering mostly in sync with him, though some didn't manage to get out of the way of his swings in time. He didn't much seem to care.

"A breastplate?" she asked him, making conversation. "What's it made of?"

He ignored her, shaping the red-hot metal. A helmeted minion darted about around his legs, shaping and crimping the steel, muttering under his breath. The Overlord stopped at last, straightened, staring at her.

"Fay," He said, at last, his voice clipped. He tossed the hammer aside, and one of his little goblins caught it, collapsing under its weight. "Why are you here?"

"I thought I'd explore a bit. If I'm going to be staying here awhile, I might as well get to know it." She stepped closer, laid a slender hand on his arm. "And I might as well get to know you."

To her surprise, the Scourge of Nature, the Demon Lord of Nordberg, the Master of the Netherworld, took a step back, rallied visibly.

"You know what I meant," he said.

"I want to learn from you," she said, breathless. "You've opened my eyes, Dark One...and there's so much more I'd like to see."

He just gave her a rather dubious look, then turned away, ignoring her. Fay bristled a bit. She wasn't used to that.

"See what you can do with the armor, Giblet. And put an edge on my axe."

He strode away without giving her a second glance. Fay hurried after him, feeling rather undignified. She hopped onto the platform next to him, frowning.

"Have I done something to displease you, my Lord?"

"No."

"Then why do you treat me like this? All I want is to serve you, Dark One."

He jumped down from the platform before it even came to a stop, offered her a hand. She took it, feeling off-balance. One moment he was ignoring her, she thought, and the next, he was as courteous as a prince.

"I don't know what you mean," he said coolly.

"When our magic was joined...that was incredible." Fay shivered. "I felt like we were one. You are...amazing, my Lord. But now..."

She trailed off, following him to the private quarters.

"Now, you treat me with indifference, and...and you squander your affections on- on peasants!"

"Ah. So that's what this is about."

She caught his arm.

"Please, my Lord, tell me why you are so cold to me!"

"I don't know you," the Scourge said calmly. "And I don't trust you."

Fay stopped short, more than a little shocked.

"But, Dark One, I have given up everything for you!"

"I've drained you of all but the last dregs of your magic. I destroyed your Sanctuaries, and I conquered your people." He gave her a hard smile. "Forgive me if I find your motives suspect."

"Suspect?" She drew closer, staring up at him. "My Lord, you have touched my mind. You know me...intimately."

"I touched the mind of a very clever, very troubled Queen, with decades of experience in intrigue and court politics." He gestured. "You'll notice we have none of that here. Minions are too stupid to dissemble."

"Is there anything I can do to convince you?" Fay asked him. "Touch my mind again, Dark One. Let me show you."

"That could kill you," he said. He did not sounding terribly distressed at the notion.

"I don't care," Fay whispered, voice hoarse with a hunger she could not name.

She felt his will settle over her mind, an iron crown, lightning crackling through her soul. She gasped, stumbled against him, body pressed against his. His skin was warm as Salamander scales, warmer than blood. She gazed up at him, rapt and desperate, felt his arms settle around her waist. If he let her go, she thought despairingly, she felt as though she would be swept away and dashed into a thousand pieces.

"Come with me, Dark One," she begged him. "Let me show you the depths of my devotion."

He released her suddenly, and she swayed, regaining her balance, recovering her composure.

"Please, my Lord."

She led him to her chambers. He'd touched her mind, she thought. He knew what she wanted. She reached out with a gesture of will, stripping off her finery, stood naked before him, clad only in the shifting light of her aura. She reached out, surprised at her own boldness, grabbed him by the belt and pulled him closer.

"You want to get me alone and unarmed, then?" he asked her, amused.

Still, she felt the heat of his gaze as it moved over her skin.

"If you have doubts about my loyalty, my Lord, then put me to the test," she said eagerly, trying not to fumble as she undid the belt. It had been so long since she'd taken a lover. "If you think I wish to harm you- though be assured that I would not, even if I could- then bind me."

A look of surprise flitted over his hard features, and then he smiled, cold.

"Good idea."

His power lashed out, and suddenly she was leashed to him again. The strength of it settled on her slender shoulders.

"On your knees," he commanded her.

Fay knelt, felt magic crackling, electric, over her wrists, binding them behind her back. She gasped, staring up at him, fear and adoration mingling in her eyes. He grabbed her hair, pulling her head back, met her eyes with his own bright, cruel gaze.

"Are you so sure that this is what you want?" he growled.

To her surprise, she could feel herself growing wet. She shivered.

"Yes, my Lord."

He pulled down his trousers, and her eyes widened a bit- she couldn't help it. He grinned at the reaction, pulled her to him by her hair. She struggled to him, on her knees, knelt at the edge of the bed and took his cock into her mouth.

His hand tangled in her hair, guiding her, using her. She could feel his magic crackling over her, like iron claws around her mind, knew that he could kill her in an instant if he wanted to. She felt fear shiver through her skin, and for the first time in decades, she felt truly alive.

He pulled her head down further, and she gagged, trying to pull back. She heard him laugh, amused at her distress, and then he let her go. She felt the bonds around her wrists dissipate, wiped her mouth. He beckoned to her.

"Come here."

She went, pulling herself onto his lap, eager. He smiled, cold, and tossed her brusquely onto the bed.

"No, not like that."

Magic lashed out again, licked around her wrists, her ankles, stretched her out spread-eagled on the bed. His gaze took her in, moving slowly over her naked body as his power held her open for him, and she felt herself flush, tugged fruitlessly at her bonds. He watched her struggle, smiling.

"You have no idea what I am, Fay," he said. He traced a hand up a white, slender thigh. "You don't know the kinds of things I want to do to you. Do you still think you want this?"

"I would ask the Goddess to forgive me, if I thought she would listen." Fay whispered, breathless. She shuddered, leaning into his touch. "Yes."

He was toying with her, now, fingers sliding up her thighs, teasing at her sex. She gasped and arced her hips to him, rubbed against him like a cat as he stroked her swollen clit. His hand reached out, tore her hair free from its careful coifs, sent it tumbling over the sheets. She strained towards him, mouth seeking his, and he pulled away with another chilly smile. Fay could hear herself panting, and she stared up at him through her hair, her body aching, needing him.

"Please, don't stop," she begged.

He was examining her as though she was some strange and deadly creature, hands leaving lines of fire on her hips, her breasts, her throat. He traced her ears, curious, trailed his fingers down the curve of her jaw, strength behind his touch, and she realized how easy it would be for him to break her. She shivered, closing her eyes.

"Are you afraid of me, Fay?" she heard him ask.

"Should I be?" she whispered.

"Oh, yes." She felt his weight shift, her only warning. "I would tell you that I won't hurt you...but that would be a lie."

He thrust into her suddenly, shockingly, painfully fast, as her bonds tightened, pulled her tauter. She cried out, blood singing, writhing as she strained against the magic that held her fast. She was alone, she thought, the Queen of a broken people, miles beneath the ground, with a creature who had her at his mercy...and he seemed to have little enough of that.

And, Goddess help her, there was a part of her that reveled in it. Her shoulders were aching, her hips were burning, and with every thrust she felt like he was going to tear her in two, but a dark, twisted part of her embraced it, exalting. Her will rose to meet his, magic twining, his power enveloping what little magic she had left. His magic seared her wrists, her ankles, sending shudders coursing through her body. It was like making love to a thunderstorm, to an avalanche, something she wouldn't have stopped, even if she could have.

He pulled out of her, as abruptly as he'd begun, and Fay gasped, disappointed.

"No!" she cried. "Don't stop!"

He grabbed her hair, pulled her head to one side and bit her neck, hard enough to make her yelp, and she felt his displeasure through the link between them, realizing her error.

"You are no longer a Queen, Fay," he hissed, nipped her ear. "This is my realm."

He released her bonds, and she rubbed at her wrists, staring up at him, cheeks flushed. He flipped her over onto her stomach, pulled her hips up. Magic bound her, again, wrists to ankles, her cheek pressed against the bed. He entered her, slower this time, and she moaned, pushing her hips back against him. He pushed deeper into her, faster, rougher, and Fay cried out, her voice muffled against the sheets, abandoning any last pretense of dignity as she came, bucking against the bonds that held her.

He pulled out of her again, gazing down at the degraded Queen beneath him. She was still shuddering, her narrow, pretty face raptured, eyes closed. She was so fragile, in every sense of the word, for all her poise and artifice. He still had a hold on her will, felt the moment when she surrendered completely to him. And still, he wanted nothing more than to break her, to debase her further.

She felt his hands slide over the curve of her ass, speculative. She looked back at him, questioning, her power still linked with his, took a sharp breath as she realized what he wanted to do to her. She felt her heart beat faster, was shocked to feel the way her body was responding.

"Still, even now?" he asked her, sounding amused.

"My will is yours, my Lord," she gasped. "Do as you like." She hesitated, self-preservation winning over her lust. "Although...there is oil in the dresser."

"I'm not completely new at this," he snapped, sounding annoyed.

She looked back at him, confused. The peasant girl had said she'd known him when they were children, which would mean-

She felt oil trickling over the small of her back, warming to her skin, and her thoughts scattered like a flock of birds. His hands moved lower, slick, and then she stiffened as she felt him enter her in a way she'd never been entered before.

"Oh, Goddess," she whimpered, hands tightening into fists as he filled her.

He stayed like that for a long moment, sheathed to the hilt inside of her, and she felt him kiss the back of her neck. She felt something inside her start to melt, heard herself moan. He began to thrust against her, long, slow strokes that surprised her after his earlier violence, quickening his pace as she gasped, her nails digging into her palms. She'd never felt so debauched, she thought despairingly- none of her other lovers would have ever dared to use her the way he was using her now.

She heard him growl, low in his throat, felt him come, hot and pulsing, her bonds vanishing, freeing her. He withdrew from her, slowly, and then to her eternal surprise he pulled her close and held her. She could feel his magic moving through hers, suddenly gentle, and to her further surprise she realized that he was looking her over, making sure that she was intact. She felt his power leave her, then, made a little sound of disappointment. She turned in his arms, lifted her face to his. This time, he didn't pull away from her kiss.

"That was alright?" he asked her anxiously, suddenly sounding very young.

"I...yes, Dark One. Yes."

"You're crying."

Her cheeks were wet, she realized, astonished.

"Oh. So I am."

"Did I...is something wrong? I didn't mean to-"

"No." She wiped her cheeks, smiling. "No, Dark One. You've remade me. You make me whole."

He looked troubled, offered her an uncertain smile.

"I'm not sure if even I can do that," he said.

"But-"

"You're damaged, Fay" he said bluntly. "You're broken in ways I can't fix."

She stared at him, affronted. He sighed.

"And now you're angry. What I mean is...if you're waiting for me to fix you, or if you think I've somehow repaired you...you'll be disappointed."

"But...you've shown me the true path, Dark One! I've seen how hollow the Sanctuaries truly were, and that the Mother Goddess was an empty lie, and-"

"I've shown you a path." He smiled, bright gaze moving over her body. "And I don't mind if you follow it with me. I don't mind at all. As I've said, you are my guest."

"No," Fay said, surprised again at her own boldness. "More than a guest. Haven't I done enough to prove myself to you?"

"Oh, I can think of a few more things you could do, maybe-" He grinned at the look on her face. "I'm joking. Mostly. But yes, you're right."

"Your little seneschal called me a Mistress, and that is what I want," Fay said, felt her heart beating faster at the words. "I want to hear it from you, Dark One. I want to hear you call me your Mistress."

"Very well." He pulled her closer to him, gave her a wicked little smile that made her blood burn. "Mistress, then. My Mistress Fay."