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Xander looked up, peering into the starlight as something high in the sky moved across it.
"Buffy, your mom's here," he noted. Buffy, sitting against a tree outside her tent, looked up from the scrolls she was immersed in by the light of a torch.
"Mom!" she exclaimed, smiling widely for the first time that day. An older woman with a clear resemblance to the slender blonde glided easily down to the grassy clearing, her expansive white-feathered wings folding behind her back as she touched down. Buffy rushed to her, and the winged woman welcomed her in a warm embrace.
"Highness," Xander said, standing smartly to attention.
"Oh please Xander," she shook her head, releasing Buffy. "I'm sure you don't call my daughter 'highness' and she
is a princess..."
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"Mom..." Buffy complained.
"Sorry," Xander grinned. "Joy. It's good to see you."
"Both of you too," Joy nodded.
"Willow's on her way," Buffy said. "She had to stay at Blackmoor a while, to reinforce the magic in the marshes. We only delayed the Horde, they'll try again, so..." She stopped and gave a helpless shrug.
"I saw a horse nearing from up high, that must be her," Joy noted. "I came as soon as I got word. We haven't had word of any other Horde advances, so I left only a skeleton garrison on the castle. They'll be here by sundown tomorrow."
"That's fast," Xander noted.
"We know what it's like to lose allies," Joy said sombrely. "Never again." She hesitated, then dropped her eyes to the ground.
"Did you lose anyone today?" she asked quietly. Buffy and Xander exchanged a glance.
"Darius," Xander replied. "One of my rangers. Shrapnel from a cannon shot - they were firing blindly, but with artillery..." He sighed. "He, uh... he had a daughter, Kristala. She'd be better off not staying here-"
"She'll have a home in Brightmoon," Joy promised. "And the Horde?"
"We did our best," Xander went on, glad of the change of topic. "Like Buffy said, we could only delay them - the ambush was effective, for the most part, but we just don't have the numbers or weapons to really press home an attack like that. Surprise is really all we've got. We did some damage, but we had to pull out or they'd have regrouped and gone on the offensive, and then..."
"Blackmoor sent scouts to find out what the Horde's doing now," Buffy added. "Willow should be bringing news from them. And then there's the prisoner."
"Prisoner?" Joy echoed.
"The Force Captain," Buffy said, frowning. "We-" She was interrupted by hoof beats from the hard ground on the other side of the tent, and all three looked up. A moment later Willow's voice sounded from inside.
"Hello?" She appeared at the tent's back entrance, carrying a long satchel over her shoulder. "Oh, there you are- Joy, hi! Buffy, the Captain, is she-"
"Under guard, restrained, unconscious... in your place, like you asked," the blonde replied. "What's the word from Blackmoor's scouts?"
"From what they saw the Horde's repairing their road-layers," Willow said, as the four of them moved back inside the tent. "And more troops and tanks have come up from the coast. I did what I could with magic to slow them down through the marshes, but that'll just slow them down a bit - they'll still make it through. Best guess, two days. Three at most."
"My soldiers will be joining you by then," Joy offered. "Blackmoor's defences are good - we can make a stand."
"We'll sort it out in the morning," Buffy nodded. "Now, you want to explain to us why we've got a Horde Captain sleeping off a headache in your house?"
"Buffy-" Xander began.
"Because I don't remember agreeing to take that risk!" Buffy went on. "Willow, you
know what the Horde's like with its officers - if they learn that we have her they'll burn the Whispering Woods from horizon to horizon. Assuming she doesn't suicide as soon as she gets the chance. And it's not as if there's any chance of learning anything from her, she'd die first."
"Buffy please," Willow said. "This is... look, I can't say how exactly, but this is important. There's something about her that's different, the power she was using today, and if I can just figure it out..." She sighed heavily. "I know you don't like the I-don't-know-why-but-trust-me line, but... I have to see her. I have to... reach her somehow." She raised her hands to stall Buffy's response.
"No I don't know why, or how, or what it means, but... Buffy, this is important. I know it's a risk, but we need to take it."
"This isn't a game, Will," Buffy warned. "The Horde-"
"Buffy, I know!" Willow insisted. "Okay, I haven't lived out there under them like you and Xander, but I'm not an idiot, I know what they'll do. But something inside me is telling me to do this. As a sorceress, I'm telling you, this matters." She took a deep breath.
"You two can overrule me," she offered quietly. Buffy looked at Xander.
"Nuh-uh," he shook his head. "I don't understand sorcery, but I know not to argue with it."
"Looks like the Captain stays," Buffy allowed, with poor grace. "But
be careful. Hordesmen aren't... like us, Will. She's dangerous."
"She can't use magic," Willow shook her head, swinging down her satchel and reaching into it. "Not at my level, in any case - not without this." She drew the Force Captain's sword out and laid it flat on the table.
"She gets her power from the sword?" Xander wondered.
"Everything I saw her do was channelled through this," Willow nodded. "I can still feel something inside it. I'll need time to work on it - I sensed what I could on the ride back here, but this is really different to anything I've studied before. I need to check my books. And see what our guest can tell me, if anything." She fixed Buffy with a look. "I want you to keep the sword, for now. So long as it's not close to its owner, she won't be able to draw on its power, I'm sure of that."
"That doesn't make her helpless," Buffy warned, taking the sword. She looked around, and went on, uncomfortably. "Willow, this isn't Buffy being pessimistic, this is Buffy worried for her friend who she loves like a sister... just... be careful, okay?"
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Willow entered her home and took a moment to survey her visitor. Relieved of her heavy armour, with just the soft leather bodysuit she had been wearing beneath the metal, she seemed far younger. She was lying on a backless couch, her head propped up against the armrest at one end with a pillow, and her wrists secured beneath the couch with leather-lined steel cuffs.
Willow nodded at the ranger who was keeping watch on the unconscious woman, and waited until he closed the door behind him. Then she approached the blonde, studying her closely.
'Fit,' she mused, her eyes tracing the subtle but noticeable curves of the muscles in her arms and legs.
'Well-nourished... If she was a Horde slave once, it was a long time ago.' Her eyes settled on a bruise just below the woman's hip, on top of her bare leg and spreading a little to her inner thigh. She frowned, and surveyed the blonde for other injuries, thinking back on the violent demise of her command tank.
'Doesn't look like she's any older than me. She's lucky to be alive.' Willow gave a quiet sigh, letting her eyes roam over the woman's face, which looked very different without the angry scowl it had worn earlier.
'Come to think of it, so am I, all in all.'
She moved to a nearby desk, laden with vials and gourds, and sat down, slowly measuring out quantities of liquid into a dish.
"I know you're awake, by the way," she said over her shoulder after a moment. She allowed herself a faint grin at hearing the slightest intake of breath, a sign of surprise, quickly stifled.
"You're a witch," the Captain said carefully.
"I am," Willow agreed, swirling the liquids together until the result glowed a faint blue. "In fact, hereabouts I'm pretty much
the witch."
"The floramagus," the Captain concluded. "You're the one they talk about. The reason the Woods fights the Horde, scrambles our navigation systems, sabotages our vehicles-"
"No," Willow said, turning back to her guest. "No, the Woods do that. They know what the Horde is - what you do to this world, and every living thing on it." She paused, and shrugged. "I help. On the matter of you and your Horde, I happen to agree with the Woods. I'm Willow."
"Willow," the blonde said, as if testing the word.
"And you are?" Willow prompted.
"Force Captain Tara, Special Directorate, Sunder Command."
"That's a mouthful," Willow said evenly. "Mind if I just call you 'Tara'?" The Captain remained silent.
"Well Tara," Willow went on undaunted, "you're a prisoner of the Great Rebellion, and before you get all creative and try escaping, you should know that yes, I
am the 'floramagus' - which is a pretty awkward term don't you think, I prefer 'sorceress', that sounds neat - and all those stories about what I can do are pretty much true. Especially right here - we're on a concentration of forest power here, so even if you had your magic sword, which you don't and won't, there's not a lot you could do to improve your situation."
"Where's my sword?" Tara asked sharply.
"Miss it?"
"I've had it for as long as I can remember," the blonde frowned. "It's... uncomfortable to be separated from it." Willow picked up the bowl she had been working on, dragged a stool over beside Tara's couch, and sat next to her.
"I know we're probably seeming fairly tame, as captors, compared with what happens to rebels who get taken to the Fright Zone," she said mildly, "but under the circumstances, I'm really not bothered by you being uncomfortable. Sorry, but there you go." She pulled over another stool nearby and set the bowl on it.
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"And what does that do?" Tara asked, glancing at the bowl. "Truth potion? A hallucinogenic?"
"Wow, you
do hang out with some fun people," Willow shook her head. "It's to help your injury heal. If you want it, of course. If you don't believe me, that's okay, you and your ouchies can become properly acquainted." Tara stared at her for a long moment, during which Willow found herself drawn to the woman's eyes. She remembered them being black, but - she told herself - she hadn't really gotten a good look. Seen closer, Tara's eyes were blue, clear, deep blue, but obscured by inky swells of darkness that seemed to slowly move, or seep, across her eyes like clouds.
"I drink it?" Tara asked eventually.
"Hmm? Oh," Willow looked away. "Not unless it's the inside of your stomach that's bruised. Here-" She dipped her fingers in the softly-glowing oil and reached out to touch Tara's thigh, rubbing as lightly as she could in a slow spiral.
"Does it hurt?" she asked.
"Not really," Tara shook her head. "I've been injured before. This isn't bad."
"Uh-huh," Willow replied neutrally, shifting a little closer.
"I thought you weren't bothered by me being uncomfortable," Tara said, fixing Willow with a testing stare.
"Healing your bruise won't endanger my friends," Willow replied tartly. "Don't be difficult."
"Does that really do anything?" Tara asked.
"The oil helps," Willow said dryly. "The patterns I'm tracing are healing spirals, they'll sort of encourage your body to heal itself, and dull the pain until you do." She gave Tara a sharp glance. "But it's fairly reliant on the patient not being obstinate and subconsciously telling her body to ignore what I'm doing, so if that's the case, I might as well just stop. Your call," she finished airily.
"I'm sorry," Tara admitted. "Don't stop." Willow nodded, and concentrated on her task for a moment.
"That's better," she said, half to herself. "The pain's gone?"
"Yes," Tara said quietly.
"I'm suppressing it," the redhead explained. "After a while the spell will become self-repeating. It'll last a day or so, long enough for the worst of the bruise to heal."
"You could tell it wasn't hurting?" Tara guessed.
"Mostly it's plants I'm good with," Willow shrugged. "Me and the Whispering Woods, we're... well, a very small pea in a very large pod. But there's a common energy to all living things. And of course people are living things... even if they are Hordesmen," she finished in a mutter.
"We're people, just like you," Tara said quickly.
"People maybe, like us, no," Willow shook her head. "And I wouldn't repeat that around anyone else here if I were you. I'm one of the lucky ones, I grew up here, safe. Most of the others came from outside the Woods."
"They came to live here?" Tara asked.
"They came here because the Horde conquered their homelands," Willow shot back. "Because they were herded out of their homes, their villages were burned to the ground, and they were put in enclosures like animals, and forced to work themselves to death in mines."
"That's rebel propaganda-" Tara began, defensively.
"I've seen it," Willow insisted, not raising her voice, but silencing Tara nonetheless with a stern look. "Seeing as you were faking unconsciousness, did you sneak a peek at our chief ranger before they put you in here?"
"Xander," Tara said quietly, nodding.
"He lived in a village called Devlan," Willow went on. "He was a farmer's son. The Horde came to Devlan, led by a Force Captain, probably just like you. They said they were assuming control of the area, to 'introduce stability', and 'reduce border tensions' with the neighbouring towns they'd already conquered. There was nothing of value to the Horde there. Only farmers. Horde slave transports landed, and they just herded the whole village aboard. Everyone - children, the old, the sick. Not many got away." She stopped circling her fingertip on Tara's thigh, and clenched both fists in her lap.
"A few of the men managed to break away, when the Hordesmen opened the enclosures to move the people onto the slave ships. They fought Horde troopers with their bare hands, just so a few of the children could get away in the confusion. Xander and his sister were the last to get out, but they were spotted, and his sister shielded him from the blasts when the troopers opened fire." She swallowed, and continued with some difficulty. "When he got here, he was still carrying her, even though... she was gone. Twelve years old..."
She let out a quick breath, then looked back at Tara, almost sadly.
"I'm not trying to shock you into admitting you're wrong," she said, calmly resuming tracing spirals on the woman's thigh. "I know you won't. I'm just... making it plain, that there's no point in you explaining how Horde domination is in the best interests of Etheria." She snorted derisively, and settled into a brooding silence.
"I-I'm sorry," Tara said, meekly. "That I said... I won't talk about it any more." Willow looked up at her, gazing intently.
"It bothers you," she said, "doesn't it?" Tara shook her head.
"Of course not," she replied, looking away.
"Look me in the eye," Willow challenged. Tara remained still for a moment, indecisive, then met Willow's gaze.
"I don't," she began, and stopped. She took a breath. Willow waited a moment, then raised an enquiring eyebrow. Tara fixed her with a defiant stare, opened her mouth, then thought again and looked away.
"I... don't know why it does," she said softly, her eyes downcast. Willow continued to stare at her, frowning deeply in thought.
"You feel differently than you used to," she said - a statement, not a question. Tara squared her jaw, then gave a single nod. Willow dropped her gaze to her fingertip, still circling slowly on Tara's thigh, then looked into the still oil in the bowl.
"Can I ask you about this?" she said suddenly. Tara huffed a breath.
"I'm your prisoner, you don't have to ask permission," she muttered, though there seemed to be more discomfort than hostility in her voice.
"If you say no, I won't," Willow replied calmly. Tara didn't lift her gaze.
"Go ahead," she allowed.
"You've led missions before," Willow said. "Attacks, conquests..."
"Yes."
"You've overseen slave raids?"
"Resettlement- yes," Tara nodded, abandoning the retort half-way through.
"Taken prisoners to the Fright Zone?" Willow persisted.
"Yes."
"Condemned prisoners, who you knew-"
"Yes!" Tara shouted. "Alright? Yes, I gave the orders that sent hundreds of men and women to be turned into Horde troopers, to be cut up and armoured and have their brains butchered and rebuilt as machines, and then I-I accepted them back into my command w-when the only humane thing-" She stopped, choking back the words that were suddenly rising out of her as if on their own.
"Tara?" Willow asked quietly. She stopped her slow spirals, and lay her hand flat on Tara's leg, gently.
"The only humane thing," Tara resumed, closing her eyes, "would have been to let what was left of them die." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I o-ordered that done."
"I think there's something wrong with you," Willow said thoughtfully.
"Thank you, so I'd gathered," Tara spat back, shooting a deadly glare at the sorceress.
"No!" Willow said quickly, lifting her hand from Tara's thigh. "No, I didn't mean it like that, I promise... Please. Before today, none of that bothered you?"
"It's- it was my duty," the blonde said sullenly, though the tension in her body eased somewhat. "I never
liked it, given the choice of course I wouldn't have... As I saw it, everything I did was necessary. They had to be done, for the Horde."
"And now?" Willow prompted.
"Now," Tara sighed, finally letting Willow see her eyes again, "I don't see...
why they were necessary. I don't know what the Horde could possibly be, that would justify th-the... atrocities..." Tara's gaze faltered, and Willow looked down, so that the blonde wouldn't have to feel her scrutiny.
"Apart from you, does the Horde have any magic users?" she asked. "I know there are mercenaries and Xenians with magical abilities, but are there other actual sorceresses? People who can manipulate magical power, as well as just use it? Did anyone like that ever spend time with you?" Tara gave her a wary sidelong glance, and she continued quickly: "Don't give me names, or powers or anything, this isn't an interrogation... if you want to, just tell me what you can without anything strategically worthwhile." Tara lifted her head, and her face softened again to the expression she had worn before Willow had unintentionally angered her.
"One," she said. "Shadow Weaver. Hordak's personal witch. She's tutored me in magic."
"Hordak's
personal witch tutored you?" Willow repeated, wide-eyed. "We're talking about
the Hordak? Metal face, deity complex, the top dog of the entire Horde on Etheria?"
"I'm his protégé," Tara nodded. "He taught me strategy, tactics, hand-to-hand combat..."
"Who
are you?" Willow asked, amazed.
"I'm Tara," Tara shrugged. "I know what you mean - both of them have paid me far more attention than any other officer. I don't know why, unless it's my magic. I don't know of anyone who can cast magic like me, except for Shadow Weaver. The Horde's captured other sorceresses, but they..." she swallowed, and gave Willow a sorrowful look, "they died. They wouldn't join the Horde."
"No," Willow agreed quietly. She leaned forward. "This Shadow Weaver, she's spent a
lot of time around you? Teaching you magic?" Tara nodded to both questions.
"Has she ever done spells with you, or around you, when you didn't know their purpose?" Willow persisted.
"Yes," Tara replied. "That's how it always was. She uses magic constantly - never explains what she's doing, only what I need to know to learn."
"Some way to learn," Willow muttered. She reached out and touched Tara's cheek, meeting her surprised stare when she looked up.
"I think she's been enchanting you," Willow said seriously.
"Enchanting- you mean controlling me?" Tara asked incredulously.
"No, that's virtually impossible," Willow shook her head, dropping her hands into her lap. "Frankly, this should be to, but it's all I can think of. Look, magic, for sorceresses like you and me, it's a source of energy - no good or evil, but it's moulded by us, by passing through our beings when we use it. The magic you were using today wasn't... well, it wasn't the kind of magic I'd have expected a Horde officer to be capable of. Not someone who could do the things they made you do, it wasn't dark like that."
"Made me do?" Tara asked.
"I think, somehow, this Shadow Weaver person found a way to... to cloak part of you, for want of a better word," Willow said, with a little shrug. "The part that knows good from evil, and would choose good, the part that's horrified at what you've done for the Horde - that part of you has been suppressed all this time. That's how you could cast magic without darkening it, you're
not evil, but you've been... I suppose, channelled, into not being able to see the wrong you've done." She again resumed drawing spirals on Tara's thigh, slower than before.
"But..." Tara shook her head, looking away, "I've
always been loyal to the Horde... The things I said... what I feel now, I've never felt that before in my entire life."
"Shadow Weaver has been 'teaching' you all that time?" Willow asked. Tara looked at her, startled by the realisation.
"All that time," she agreed, her voice a mix of wonder and fear. "Since I was a baby. My first memory is being with her... I don't even remember my mother and father. Just her." Her gaze drifted, then she fixed Willow with a stare that was almost pleading.
"I don't want to go back," she said, her voice shaking with emotion suddenly being set free. "I don't want to be the person I was until today. Willow?" Tears trickled slowly down her cheeks. "Help me?"
"I will," Willow promised, stroking Tara's face with her free hand, wiping her tears away. "You're safe here, I promise. They won't get to you. You won't have to be like that, ever again."
"The army," Tara said, "my army... did you stop it?"
"We held them off," Willow said soothingly. "They won't be able to advance for a couple of days, and we have allies who'll be ready by then. Without you they won't be able to manipulate the forest magic anymore - that's why they wanted you, I'll bet, to affect natural magics the way a dark witch can't. They won't be able to get any more ships into the bay, or move into the deep forest, where we are."
"I'm so sorry," Tara cried quietly. "I brought them here-"
"No," Willow shook her head, leaning closer. "Not you. You've... you're as much a victim as the people they turn into troopers. But you're free now."
"I, should..." Tara began, her eyes flitting across Willow's face, closer to her own than ever before. She swallowed and composed herself.
"I should give you their orders of battle," she said. "Even if they send a new Captain to replace me, it might help for you to know..."
"In the morning," Willow nodded. "Buf- Glimmer and Xander will still be here, and they're the ones who should hear it. I'm not much of a tactician, it'd just go in one ear and out the other."
"Alright," Tara said. She looked curiously at Willow.
"Buffglimmer?" she asked.
"Huh- oh," Willow smiled at herself. "Glimmer."
"Princess Glimmer, from Brightmoon?" Tara asked.
"My best friend," Willow nodded. "Well, co-best friend, her and Xander. But I've known her longer. We call her 'Buffy', it's from when we were younger... You know Brightmoon follows the forest way with names?" Tara shook her head.
"I only ever learned about the Queendom's army and defences," she said, regret touching her voice. "Nothing else." Willow nodded, and shifted from her stool to the edge of the couch Tara was lying on, perching beside her.
"It's the forest way to give children a childhood name," she explained, "and then, when they're starting to become adults, they choose a name for adulthood. Something appropriate for who we are, and who we're hoping we'll become."
"The Princess is a photomancer," Tara noted.
"Hence 'Glimmer'," Willow continued.
"And 'Willow' for a forest sorceress," Tara guessed.
"Right," Willow smiled. "I was raised by the forest people, the Twiggets... sprites, you know?" Tara nodded. "My mother was a refugee, she fled into the forest while she was carrying me. She was hurt... they couldn't help her, and she died giving birth to me." She smiled sadly, and Tara saw loss in her eyes, but one she had long ago become accustomed to.
"The Twiggets promised her, if she didn't make it, that they'd take care of me," the redhead went on. "And they did. I learned all about the Whispering Woods, went with them from one end to the other and back again, every year during the migrations... and I learned how to hear the forest, and talk to it."
"You can talk to the trees?" Tara asked, her eyes widening.
"Well, that might not be the best word," Willow grinned. "They can't talk like us... of course, from their point of view, we can't talk like them. But there's a way of becoming... sympathetic to their rhythms, and the patterns in their lives. In harmony with the forest, I suppose. It's sort of like meeting them half-way - it's not how they communicate, and it's not how we do, but it's a way I can reach the forest and be a part of it, a little. Enough to do what I do, anyway."
"The Horde intelligence on you says you control the forest flora," Tara said. "But it's not like that, exactly, is it?"
"No, it isn't," Willow replied, smiling at Tara's perceptiveness. "It's a meeting between me and the forest - I become aware of the Whispering Woods, and the Woods becomes aware of me, and of what I experience, as a person. Like I said, we're so different - the forest can't easily perceive something like people, we're just... too fast, too variable. The forest sees seasons like we see the hands on a clock, it sees whole species migrating as single entities, it sees..." She trailed off, lost in thought.
"It's difficult to explain?" Tara asked.
"It's beautiful," Willow smiled. "But that's just a word... It's impossible to
really explain. But that's beside the point anyway," she went on, "what I was saying is that I don't control the forest, I just provide a perspective it can use to act - to heal, or sense, or fight a threat. I suppose the simplest way to explain it is that the Whispering Woods is my ally - though, again, human terms aren't quite right. In some ways we're so distant, when we're not sharing we're barely aware of each other, except as abstractions, but when we're together, it's, well," she blushed a little and looked away, "so intimate... like lovers almost." A grin crept onto her face, which she fought to suppress.
Tara blushed too, and spoke hesitantly to break the silence.
"H-how... did you, um, come to Brightmoon?" she asked. "You said you and the Princess were friends from childhood?"
"Oh," Willow nodded, smiling broadly again now that the subject was less intimate, "the Twiggets brought me to the Queendom when I was eight - about when I grew taller than most of them, and they decided I needed to be around my own kind. More than usual, I mean - they knew
about me in Brightmoon, and I'd been close to it, and met people from there with the Twiggets. The Queen's prime minister sort of informally adopted me, and I got to know Buffy... Glimmer," she corrected herself.
"What was your name, before 'Willow'?" Tara asked. Willow sighed and rolled her eyes.
"What?" Tara asked.
"Razz," Willow said heavily.
"Razz," Tara repeated, grinning.
"It's Twigget for 'red'," Willow explained. "They don't have red hair, so that kind of stood out about me. But the first tree I learned to talk to was a willow, so that's the name I chose when I was old enough."
"Razz," Tara said again, biting the corner of her lip.
"Don't make me regret telling you," Willow mock-scolded her. "It took me long enough to train Buffy not to call me that all the time."
"But you still call her Buffy," Tara chuckled.
"Well of course," Willow replied, as if there was no contradiction at all. "That's different."
"How so?"
"It's funny," Willow grinned. "Besides she's very serious a lot of the time. It'd take a lot for her to admit it, but she likes being teased, being... childish, I guess. Playing around. It's not something any of us really get to do a lot." She and Tara shared a silent moment, Tara looking down at the floor, Willow's gaze drifting from her clouded eyes to cover her features, lingering on her lips, and her neck, where a strand of golden hair was resting on her pale, smooth skin.
"I never missed having friends," Tara said at last, quietly, unknowingly bringing Willow out of her reverie. "I never
thought about having friends."
"I'm sorry," Willow sighed. "But if it makes it any better... you've got one now." She looked at Tara with a hesitant, hopeful smile. Tara returned the look, with dawning happiness on her face.
"It does," she said.
"It does?" Willow asked.
"Make it better," Tara smiled. Willow grinned widely, and let her free hand touch Tara's arm, giving it a warm squeeze, and afterwards she didn't break the contact.
"There wasn't anyone...?" she prompted gently. Tara shook her head.
"No-one," she replied. "Everyone below me in rank - and being Hordak's protégé, that meant practically everyone, whatever their
actual rank was - was afraid of me, that's just how it is in the Horde. Officers are expected to want power, to fight for it, and as a commander, the only way to control officers beneath is by fear. A commander who can't dominate her subordinates deserves to be deposed." She sighed. "To be honest, there was no-one I'd have considered in any case, even without rank. Too cruel, too ruthless... like I was."
"You're not now," Willow assured her. Tara smiled faintly, facing unpleasant memories inside.
"What about you?" she asked, looking up. "Is there anyone you're... well..." Willow frowned in confusion for a second.
"Oh," she said, realising, "oh, no... Not that there aren't nice people around here, but I guess I'm just too picky, or wrapped up in my magic perhaps. Buffy and Xander are my friends, the Twiggets are, well, Twiggets - their lives run differently to humans, so far as intimacy and courtship, and besides they're tiny... not that I'm size-ist or anything, but when I picture my dream girl, she's kind of my height, rather then waist-height - and that's verging close to dirty joke territory," she admitted with a chuckle.
"I wasn't going to say anything," Tara grinned.
"No, but when you've been around Xander a while, you get into the habit of avoiding obvious lead-in lines for jokes like that," Willow laughed. "He's great, but he just loves seeing my face go red." She stifled a burst of giggles.
"I have a 'dream girl'," Tara said, her gaze shifting from Willow to stare into space. "Not that I ever really thought like that... There have been times when I've dreamed of someone gentle. No-one specifically, just 'a someone', if you get what I mean." Willow nodded, and Tara smiled faintly and went on: "When I woke up after a dream like that, there'd be a moment, half-awake... Looking back, it's the closest I'd ever come to how I am now, here with you. Before it faded, I'd touch... um..." she broke off, as if suddenly aware of Willow again, and blushed hotly.
"Touch what?" Willow asked, causing Tara to duck her head in embarrassment. "A... Oh! Oh, righty, that's okay, no elaboration necessary... I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked, I was just being a spaz and not getting what you meant... Sorry. It's okay, no problem whatsoever, you know. I-I do too," she finished in a hurry, blushing herself as her ears caught up with her mouth and realised what she'd said.
"It's a-alright," Tara said hesitantly. "I-it's natural..."
"Yep, perfectly normal," Willow nodded. "Just some weird-o quirk of psychology that
everyone feels uncomfortable talking about it."
"Uh-huh," Tara said, managing to smile at herself a little. She looked up, and seeing Willow's gaze averted, and took a moment to stare at her, studying the line of her jaw, her lips pursed in an attempt not to giggle, the short red hair falling across the side of her face. A look of longing passed across her face.
"What do you think about?" she asked softly.
"What do I think about?" Willow echoed.
"When you... you know," Tara explained, glancing away hesitantly as Willow's eyes fixed on her. "I told you mine, after all..."
"Your- oh," Willow smiled and blushed. "Dream girl... I don't know, I guess it's just a phrase people use, I don't really..." She looked down, accidentally ending up looking at her hand, still slowly circling on Tara's thigh, caressing more than drawing a magical sign. She seemed fascinated by the sight, and opened her mouth to speak, letting the silence drag on as she organised the emotions crossing her features.
"Honestly," she said, "what I think of is just the... physical side of it. I concentrate on myself, and magic..."
"Magic?" Tara asked gingerly, not wanting to dispel the velvet blanket that seemed to have settled over the two of them.
"Magic," Willow nodded, squaring her shoulders and trying to sound nonchalant, in spite of the rallying blush. "Forest magic is all about joining with the forest, which can be mental or spiritual or... physical. Ever since I learned to interact with the forest it's been a part of my life, so when I was old enough that... ah, self-love, became a part of me, the forest was part of that, too."
"You...?" Tara breathed. Willow glanced up at her, with some trepidation, and seemed to find a measure of confidence in the blonde's entranced expression.
"Be honest," she said, the corners of her mouth turning up in a grin. "If you'd been so comfortable with a magic all your life... wouldn't you try?" Tara couldn't help her blush, but she made no move to hide it this time.
"I guess I would," she admitted. "Don't tell anyone."
"Your secret is safe with me," Willow giggled. "You neither... I don't want Xander making lewd comments whenever I do a spell," she added, leaning conspiratorially close.
"It's a deal," Tara smiled. "W-w... what's it like?" Willow's eyes widened, caught off-guard by the intimate question. She broke contact with Tara's stare, only to find herself looking at the blonde's lips. She took a deep breath, and leaned back, reaching down with the hand that had been on Tara's arm. Thin creepers wound up through the cracks in the floorboards, reaching for the sorceress's hand, and wrapping themselves around them. Willow lifted her arm again, showing Tara - it seemed like her hand was covered with a glove of living flora, of soft petals and fronds that undulated slowly. Tara's mouth dropped open in surprise, then she bit her lip as her imagination worked.
"Beats bare hands," Willow said, dropping her hand and letting the plant-life disentangle and sink back beneath the floor. Tara nodded automatically; Willow shifted her weight on the couch, settling herself.
"I-I suppose," Tara said, in a shaking voice, "the prospect of being... with someone... isn't so..."
"Oh, it's not like that at all," Willow shook her head. "That's... me, in a way. I mean, obviously
not me, in the sense that I don't have leaves and so forth, but... I don't have anything to compare it to, in that sense, but I think, to be with someone, and... to be as close to someone..." her eyes unfocused as she spoke, "...to touch them, and let them touch, to... to be that
open, to have that connection, with a person..."
"Yes," Tara breathed.
"With someone who makes your heart beat faster, just by looking at you... to have them
touch you... must be so incredible..."
"Ohhh," Tara moaned, closing her eyes.
"What?" Willow asked, returning to reality somewhat, realising that her lips were bare inches from Tara's, and her hand had moved down the inside of Tara's thigh, caressing her, and with the urging of Tara's rocking hips was perilously close to touching-
"
Oh my gods!" Willow exclaimed, snatching her hand back and sitting up straight. "Oh my- I'm so sorry! I had no idea, I..."
"Willow, please," Tara whimpered, leaning up as far as she could.
"Tara, I-" Willow began, visibly distressed.
"Willow-"
"I didn't mean-"
"I
do mean," Tara said.
"Whuh?" Willow replied, utterly baffled.
"Kiss me?" Tara asked.
"What? Kiss? You? Me?" Willow asked in quick succession.
'Kiss me,' Tara's voice echoed in her ears, as the image of herself and Tara locked in a heated embrace filled her mind,
'Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me...'
"Willow?" Tara breathed, staring at the flustered sorceress. Willow returned her gaze, mouth hanging open, eyes wide. For a long moment the two of them were utterly motionless, trapped by each other's stares - then Tara mouthed 'please', and Willow fell on her, kissing her fiercely, the intensity of her sudden passion matched only by the fervour with which Tara craned her neck up, meeting her lips, drinking in her kisses as fast as they were offered.
"Mmm," Tara suddenly groaned, shaking her head. Willow pulled back at once.
"What on Etheria are we doing?" Tara asked. "Oh gods I... I want you..."
"You want...?" Willow hesitated.
"Oh, yes," Tara breathed heavily. Willow leaned in again, enough for Tara to capture her lips the moment they were close enough.
"Mmmmwait," Willow managed to gasp, in between kisses that she was as much responsible for as the blonde beneath her.
"Willow?" Tara panted. "What... did I-?"
"No, just..." Willow shook her head, breathing heavily herself. She kissed Tara again, then tilted her head, pressing her lips to Tara's cheek.
"Just... a moment," she murmured between kisses. Steeling herself she sat up and leaned sideways, reaching beneath the couch for the cuffs binding Tara's arms.
"Willow, you... don't have to," Tara said, as quick as she could between gulps of air.
"Why...?"
"I'm still a prisoner... a Horde Captain-" The click of the cuffs opening cut her off.
"Tara," Willow breathed, leaning back over her, "no... you're not."
"It's part of who I am," Tara said sadly, seeming suddenly spent.
"Who you
were," Willow insisted. "Who they made you." She sat back, drawing Tara up by the shoulders, helping her sit. They ended up face to face, foreheads resting against each other.
"Show me the person you
are," Willow asked. Tara gazed at her, and slowly brought a hand to her cheek, stroking the sorceress's skin as lightly and gently as if she were made of the finest porcelain.
"When you said 'beautiful' is just a word," the blonde whispered, breathing into Willow's lips, "now, I understand..."
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To Be Continued...[/center]
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, I never was into the whole He-man/She-Ra series, but if it was anything like this (especially with 
/ 
) I'd been a fan a long time ago.
) It almost feels like I'm watching she-ra ep.! Ah... birng back so many memorys...
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