The Kitten, the Witches and the Bad Wardrobe - Willow & Tara Forever

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 Post subject: Re: RKT presents "Sing A Song of Christmas"
PostPosted: Sun Dec 10, 2006 11:10 am 
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Ms. Moderator Fantastico
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well you had me jumping from one side of my brain to the other !!!!! I like it hehe


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 Post subject: Re: RKT presents "Sing A Song of Christmas"
PostPosted: Sun Dec 10, 2006 2:19 pm 
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32. Kisses and Gay Love
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Justin - I really love dream stories and I don't see that many. I mean stories, episodes, whatever are very awesome. I feel like it gives you (the writer) a huge universe to work with and yet is very challenging. You can't just be throwing in bathtub duckies or men with cheese on their head or whatever. You have to kind of have a focus but allow it to be dreamlike. And I feel like you did this very well. There was a very definite sense of foreboding and fear here but also it was very cohesive. Most of all, it actually seemed like an episode of Buffy. So that was awesome. Very very well done.

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 Post subject: Re: RKT presents "Sing A Song of Christmas"
PostPosted: Sun Dec 10, 2006 3:02 pm 
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23. Volumey Text
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Thankyou to everyone who read and commented on this story.

Posting it I was worried people might not take to it, that you might think it was a load of pretentious rubbish, so it was a relief to read that people enjoyed it.


db: Hullo!

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Anyway, I liked that you made a story reminiscent of different BtVS episodes without being obvious, or take ing any plotlines from those actual shows. I don't know how you did it, but it was cool..


High praise. To be honest I don't know how I did it, but it is cool that people made that connection.

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I was confused right along with Willow and Tara for quite a bit of the story... which I thought was inentional (it was, wasn't it? Go on, say 'yes' or I am going to feel like a dummy.).. Around 1/2 or 3/4 of the way through I figured it was some sort of trapped-in-a-Meghan reality loop, and it was nice to reach that conclusion myself before you reached the point in the story where all was revealed.


Yeah, I wanted the readers to know as much about what was going on at the start as Willow and Tara did, and then gradually figure it out.

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Good job Justin!


Thanks, I'm glad you liked it :D and happy holidays to you too.


SithLordWiccan:

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Like db, I had a hard time trying to figure out the story. I read it about three times before I came back to leave fb


I'm flattered you persisted with the story that much.

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Anyways, even though I didn't understand it, I did enjoy it. Good job. derr


Thanks. I'm glad you enjoyed the story.


Vale

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aaaaawwww! it was a it confusing at first, i have to admit, but when i caught up with where you were going with it, it was so sweet!


Confusing at first, but then sweet. That's pretty much the reaction I was hoping for.

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thank you for sharing, jus *hug*


Thanks for reading.


Boschi: Thanks. I'm glad you enjoyed it.


Emms:

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I liked the twist at the end when it turned out that Meghan was simply in a coma, 'cos I was thinking by the time they'd flooped back to the cabin that Meghan was a ghost or something and I was getting a little freaked out. You? :p


It was important that the story have a happy ending. I think if Willow and Tara had gotten back and found they couldn't help Meghan because she was dead, that would be the sort of ending that would really put me off a story.

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I liked the ending and how you neatly tied everything together. Great story, Boobaloo! clap


I wanted the end to tie up as much as possible.

Thanks for your kind words.


Taralicious:

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Very surreal as if David Lynch were a member of RKT; rather like Willow and Tara driving down Mullholland Drive but with much better sex scenes.


I haven't seen any of David Lynch's films but I'll take that as a compliment :D Of course sex scenes involving W/T are always better.

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I was extemely pleased to see that being touched by Willow and Tara yields far more positive results than being "Touched By an Angel" ever did. Even the astral plane can not deny Willow and Tara the chance to work their magic.


:wtkiss, is there anything it can't do?

Thanks for reading and feeding back.


Chris:

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That was really cool - part Buffy the Vampire Slayer, part The Twilight Zone,


Well I was more aiming for part Buffy the Vampire Slayer, part Scary Door.

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and kind of symbolic puzzle, with the repeating elements becoming clearer with each new incarnation of Willow and Tara's surroundings, and the pieces that didn't seem to fit into those moments of their lives emerging as the actual event that was behind it all.


I wanted the dream realm to be a mesh of what happened to Meghan and things from Willow and Tara's lives.

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(Also - I haven't yet re-read the story and compared it to the song, but - did each new sub-reality reflect a line of the song? That was really cool, and very smoothly handled.)


Wow, it would have been uber cool if that was the case. Sadly it isn't.

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Great story - imaginative, different, thoroughly enjoyable bow


Thanks :D

Looking forward to reading the final version of your story.

dianneswillowtree: I'm going to assume that the brain jumping is a good thing :D thanks

JustSkipIt:

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I feel like it gives you (the writer) a huge universe to work with and yet is very challenging. You can't just be throwing in bathtub duckies or men with cheese on their head or whatever.


Very true. It's simultaneously very liberating and very constraining. You can't just be putting in lot's of surreality purely for the sake of weirdness (though I admit I did do that to an extent) since if you do it too much it'll turn readers off. There has to be some sort of purpose, a unifying aspect, to the surreal elements and just enough reality to keep it all grounded.

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And I feel like you did this very well.


Thanks

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Most of all, it actually seemed like an episode of Buffy. So that was awesome. Very very well done.


You're the second person to say that and I'll say again that that's
very high praise :D

thanks for the thoughtful feedback.

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 Post subject: Re: RKT presents "Sing A Song of Christmas"
PostPosted: Sun Dec 10, 2006 3:24 pm 
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Justin
That was a real mind twister. I enjoyed the dream 'realities' merging into one another and the strange happenings - very convincing and a bit creepy. It was nice to see a supernatural fic among the Christmas offerings, expecially one based on normal, everyday Christmas preparations.

Thanks
Anne

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 Post subject: Re: RKT presents "Sing A Song of Christmas"
PostPosted: Sun Dec 10, 2006 8:41 pm 
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[center]Image[/center]
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[br]

Author: Chris Cook
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer characters are the property of Joss Whedon/Mutant Enemy; She-Ra: Princess of Power characters and concepts are the property of Mattel/Filmation (Leech redesign by The Four Horsemen).

Note: for a brief overview of She-Ra: Princess of Power check out the Wikipedia entry; if you're interested in the She-Ra/He-Man fandom, check out He-Man.org.

Note #2: Spoilers for 'The Sword of She-Ra'. I know it seems strange to do a Christmas story set in a world where they don't have Christmas, but hopefully the themes of the story are nonetheless Christmassy - forgiveness, kindness, snow, hot women in fantasy outfits...

Note #3: Thanks to Leah (author/artist of the W/T comic 'One Soul') for the Dawnie image. Thanks to all the RKTers for putting this project together, and to all the Kittens for reading it.

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Tara and Willow crouched beneath an outcrop of ice, a remnant of an iceberg caught tilted at a severe angle when the arctic ocean around it re-froze. Harsh winds swirled around their heavy cloaks, and their breath came out as clouds of vapour - but motionless and hunched over as they were, they were invisible to the metal spy banking lazily through the air above them.

"It's just a standard batmech," Tara said softly, glancing up from beneath the edge of her frost-white hood. "Even the Horde doesn't have the resources to deploy more than a battalion of cold-weather batmechs in any one area. They'll be guarding the mine; the standard models do patrol flights. It'll have to move on soon, if they spend too long out their wing joints freeze up."

"Just as well," Willow muttered, tugging her cloak tighter around herself. "Much more of this and my joints are going to freeze up." Tara reached across, beneath both their cloaks, and gave Willow's arm a reassuring rub. They watched in silence as the bat-winged machine swooped through a few circles, then flapped to gain height and headed off towards the distant mountains.

"Good riddance to that," Willow said, getting to her feet and shivering. "Hell of a way to spend a solstice."

"It's out of sensor range," Tara nodded. She tossed her cloak off one shoulder, enough to reach back and draw her sword. The gem set into its blade glowed softly, and Tara herself began to glow, her skin giving off a muted radiance, the clothes she wore beneath her heavy cloak changing and shining bright white and white-gold. She held out an arm for Willow to huddle beneath, and the forest sorceress sighed in relief as her lover's magical warmth enveloped her.

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"Better?" the blonde asked, as her transformation to She-Ra completed.

"Much," Willow nodded, working an arm around She-Ra's waist as they set off again across the ice.

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"This has got to be it," Willow said. Tara, herself again, pulled back the hood of her cloak and gazed around the mouth of the ice cavern they were standing in. Fine networks of cracks just beneath the surface of the ice, random from outside, aligned into the shapes of arcane symbols when viewed from the right angle, just beneath the naturally-formed archway at the cave's entrance.

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"Shadow Weaver could never find the source of the magic being used against the Horde, during the last campaign here," Tara said quietly. The scale of the cavern made her feel oddly reverent, as if speaking in more than a whisper would somehow be an affront to the majesty of it.

"It must only be shrouded from dark magic. I'm practically tingling with it," Willow noted, equally hushed as they slowly began the journey into the heart of the glacier. She glanced at Tara, and gently took her hand.

"They didn't try to use you to find it?" she asked. Tara shook her head.

"I was too young," she said. "This would have been six, seven years ago. My training wasn't advanced enough, I couldn't fully... come to grips with the ice magic. General Sunder took a more brute-force approach, in any case."

"Do you think he's still at the mine?" Willow asked.

"No - his posting here was purely temporary, to pacify the mountain area for the mining operation. Once his army had crushed the forces resisting us," Tara winced slightly at the memory, "he moved on. Last I heard there was a xenian commanding the mine."

"Good thing or bad thing?" Willow asked. "From our point of view?"

"Hard to say," Tara shrugged. "The Horde has far worse officers than Sunder - he's just efficient and loyal, not outright cruel. I don't know which xenian, but most non-humans who achieve rank in the Horde do it by savagery. Hordak encourages it. Are you alright?" Willow had paused, putting a hand to her temple.

"I'm not sure," she said, closing her eyes. "I felt... something-"

All of a sudden the ice beneath them heaved, throwing them both to the ground. Tara scrambled to her hands and knees, looking back as a wall of ice rose up behind them, sealing them off from the outside world. Another ice wall emerged in front of them, leaving them trapped.

"That wasn't natural," Tara said warily, seeing Willow get to her feet, unharmed. The tremors that had accompanied the sudden rush of ice were subsiding into whisper-quiet rumblings, deep beneath the surface.

"Someone boxed us in on purpose," Willow agreed. "But they didn't try to kill us..." She drew herself up to her full height, brushed some stray snow from the seat of her pants where she had landed, and placed her hand flat against the ice in front of her.

"My name is Willow," she said, slowly and clearly, "sorceress of the Whispering Woods. We are from the Great Rebellion. We come here in peace and friendship, seeking an alliance against the Horde, who invade and plunder your land."

"Anything?" Tara asked quietly.

"Yeah, my hand's cold," Willow said out of the corner of her mouth. "There's no plant life around for me to talk to - if this doesn't work, do you think you can get us out of here?"

"I have no intention of spending the rest of my life stuck in an ice box," Tara grimaced. "Even if the company is excellent." She leaned close to Willow and whispered: "I can think of a much better way to make certain parts of your anatomy get all hard and sensitive."

Willow blushed as red as her hair, but her reply was forestalled by a thick mist emerging from the icy walls.

"Willow?" Tara asked, as they were enveloped. She found Willow's hand, and held tight.

"I think it's okay," the sorceress said warily. "It's not an attack, I think... it's some kind of transportation spell..."

As if on cue the frigid mist dispersed into thin air, revealing new surroundings. Willow and Tara stared about, finding themselves in a huge cathedral-like hall, composed entirely of ice. Semi-translucent columns supported a vaulted roof high above, and on either side of a central path were two rows of ice statues - motionless, forbidding warriors.

"Whoever lives here likes ice," Willow murmured.

"Well what did you think you'd find," a voice from behind them echoed throughout the cavernous chamber, "in the domain of Frosta?"

The two spun around to find a pedestal behind them, leading up to a throne. A figure clad in icy whites and blues was seated, regarding them with a frown - she stood up as Willow and Tara stared at her, and folded her arms, tapping a finger impatiently on her bare upper arm. An icy mist wreathed her, as if even in her domain she was colder than her surroundings.

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"Frosta," Willow said breathlessly. "The arctic queen? Then this is Castle Chill?"

"Oh congratulations," Frosta said with a fake smile. "You've read at least one book."

"Uh... yeah," Willow nodded, frowning. "I'm Willow, this is Tara, we're from the Rebellion-"

"Yeah yeah yeah, you said so before," Frosta waved a hand irritably. "I'm a busy monarch, skip to the point."

"The Horde has a base near here," Tara spoke up. "They've damaged the foundation of your realm, and enslaved your people to mine etherium for their machines. We want to help you free your people, and destroy the mine."

Frosta regarded her archly for a moment, then her features softened, and the mist around her lessened.

"Then perhaps you're friends," she allowed. She quickly walked down the steps from her throne, and passed between her two guests.

"Come with me," she said. "There's something you should see."

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The pair followed Frosta from her throne room to a long spiral staircase, which seemed to go down forever. The queen made no attempt to engage them in conversation, and her forbidding manner kept Willow and Tara from speaking - they exchanged glances, communicating silently as they followed in Frosta's wake. Willow kept her manner diplomatic, but to Tara there was no disguising her disquiet at their host's abruptness. Tara reserved judgement, wondering what it was Frosta thought they had to see before they could speak further.

The stairwell finally came to an end in a small temple made from ice blocks, with what looked like sunlight shining indistinctly through the walls. Frosta stood aside and waved Willow and Tara on, and staring about in curiosity turning to awe they emerged from the temple doorway into an underground paradise, a huge garden beneath a massive ice dome. There were whole forests, lakes and rivers, trees and flowers of every colour and description, fish splashing in the streams, birds fluttering from branch to branch and filling the air with their songs, and here and there in the distance they caught glimpses of people, fishing, tending crops, or going about other business. Unlike the chill of the throne room and the glacier above the temperature was warm enough for Willow and Tara to discard their cloaks.

"Wow," Willow said at last, as they slowly walked into the unexpected idyll. "It's hard to believe we're underground..."

"It's beautiful," Tara said. She knelt down, dipping her hand into the stream at her feet and letting the crystal-clear water run through her fingers.

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"The Kingdom of Snows," Frosta said. "Or rather the Queendom, at present. What's left of it." Both Willow and Tara looked up at her, hearing anger and frustration in her voice.

"All this," the ice queen said, waving a hand about, "is just a shadow of what this realm once was. There used to be mile upon mile of life, stretching on forever... Then the Horde came. They shattered our cities, opened them to the elements above, stole our people... and they mined. Etherium is this realm's lifeblood - without its heat running beneath the rock, more and more of the realm falls cold every year."

She turned to fix her visitors with a determined stare.

"We're not a welcoming people," she said flatly. "We live beneath the ice winds, and we can't afford to waste warmth on strangers - we need every bit of it to survive ourselves. But if you can end the mining, so that the etherium flows again, you and your kind will be honoured in this realm until the end of time."

"We'll do everything we can," Willow assured her. "The Rebellion is committed to freeing all of Etheria from the Horde."

"You know I can't destroy the mine myself, or I would have," Frosta frowned. "Do you have more than just the two of you in this rebellion of yours?"

"We're all that could make it," Willow said, apologetically. "Tara's magic made it possible for us to cross the glaciers, but the Rebellion can't send a larger expedition here yet. We have a plan though."

"Oh? Do tell," Frosta said.

"Your ice magic destroyed three Horde battle groups, when they first established the mine here," Tara said. "They only gained the upper hand when they started using thermal beats against your attacks."

"And every inch of their base is guarded by those beams," Frosta added sourly.

"I can get inside the base," Tara explained. "I know how to disable the perimeter sensors and the thermal projectors. They'll be defenceless against your magic - right now, at the height of the winter solstice, you have enough power to overwhelm them."

"So together we can defeat them," Frosta nodded thoughtfully. "And what do you get out of this? I don't mean to be blunt - well, actually I do, it suits me better than polite niceties - but don't tell me you two trekked all the way to the north pole purely out of altruism."

"The Horde is our enemy too," Willow said. "They have nine etherium mines, all over the world - if they lose this one, that's one-ninth less fuel for their war machines, their destroyers, their slave transports-"

"Okay, point taken," Frosta interrupted, turning to face Tara directly. "Now answer me this - why can you get into the heart of the Horde base, when no-one else can even get past the perimeter?"

Tara exchanged a glance with Willow, who held her breath nervously.

"I... was one of them, once," Tara admitted, meeting Frosta's gaze. "They held me under enchantments, they... used me. Willow freed me, a-and now I fight for the Rebellion."

"You were a Horde officer," Frosta said coldly.

"A Force Captain," Tara nodded.

"To be as confident as you are of getting into the mine, you must have been there before," Frosta continued accusingly. "There hasn't been a Captain since the end of the campaign... You were one of them, Sunder's command group. The ones that destroyed my realm."

"She was enchanted!" Willow insisted. "They made her do it-"

"Half a million of my people are dead!" Frosta suddenly exploded. She held out a hand to the stream, and four massive icy forms emerged, advancing on Tara and surrounding her.

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"They're not any less dead because you let yourself be used," the queen snarled. "They'll have justice."

"It's not her fault!" Willow protested. "There's no justice in-"

"Tell it to their graves," Frosta snapped. "Justice isn't letting her walk around free."

"Let her go," Willow said dangerously.

"Don't," Frosta retorted, raising a hand which suddenly held an ice sabre. "Don't think you're powerful just because you're in a garden, sorceress. This isn't the Whispering Woods - I'm the power, here."

"Willow," Tara said softly. Willow rounded to stare at her.

"No," the blonde whispered, with tears in her eyes.

"But-" Willow began.

"You're a guest and a potential ally," Frosta said harshly. "Don't say anything else that might change that." Willow paid her no heed, but Tara shook her head, and the sorceress fell silent, staring after her helplessly as the ice soldiers marched her away.

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Tara looked up as the door of her 'cell' melted away, to allow Willow in. She offered a reassuring smile, and tried not to fidget at the bulky ice collar around her neck. The cell sealed itself once the sorceress was inside, but she paid no attention to it, quickly crossing to the bed Tara sat on, falling to her knees in front of her and wrapping her arms around Tara's legs.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, clearly having trouble keeping her composure.

"Willow... I'm alright," Tara said, leaning forward to take Willow's head in her lap and kiss her forehead. "Besides, it was my idea to come here. Not here, specifically, but..." She trailed off with a dry chuckle. Willow gave a forlorn sigh, and turned her face down to kiss the top of Tara's thigh.

"This is not how I imagined spending solstice," she muttered.

"Are you alright?" Tara asked. "Has she done anything...?"

"No," Willow shook her head sadly. "No, she said... you're to be punished for what you did in the past, not what you are now. So the fact that I'm with you now doesn't have any bearing on it... gods, I can't believe this!" She straightened, and her gaze fell on Tara's collar.

"Does that...?"

"No, it's not cold," Tara assured her. "A little uncomfortable, that's all - magic."

"I'm not finished with her," Willow said, eyes blazing. "I just needed to see you... I'm going to go right back and get her to change her stupid mind, I promise!"

"Willow..." Tara began.

"How can she blame you for what happened?"

"Willow," Tara dropped her gaze. "I hurt a lot of people before you saved me. I did terrible things..."

"No!" Willow shook her head vehemently. "No, Tara - they did terrible things, the Horde did. You suffered as much as anyone, and if she can't see that... This isn't right."

"Nothing about this is right," Tara said sadly. "It wasn't right that all those people died, that this realm was nearly destroyed... Whether I knew what I was doing or not, I was part of that. Perhaps..." She trailed off, staring at her hands in her lap.

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"Perhaps what?" Willow asked, her voice betraying a quiet fear.

"...perhaps I should be held accountable," Tara whispered.

"Tara, she wants to keep you here for life," Willow said.

"I know," Tara nodded.

"I think..." Willow lowered her voice, "I can get your sword to you, a-and we can get out of here-"

"Willow I don't," Tara began in a rush, then hesitated. "I... don't want to run away from what I did," she finished. "I can't hurt these people even more..."

"B-but... Tara," Willow said, in a pained voice, "I need you... I can't leave you here, and go away and go on without you, I-" Her voice caught, and she fought back a sob. Tara's eyes widened, and she gathered Willow up in a hug, stroking her hair.

"Oh gods Willow I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I... I'm being so selfish-"

"No, Tara you're not," Willow whispered back, fiercely. "I know it... it haunts you, what they made you do, I know. But you're the bravest person I know, and... I need you to be brave, sweetie, for me. I need you to... to believe you're... that you don't deserve this. Please?"

Tara swallowed, and met Willow's gaze.

"Okay," she nodded. "I do want to be with you, Willow, I do, so much... but sometimes the memories, it just... hurts, so much, I'm sorry-"

"No apologies," Willow insisted. "I love you, Tara. I know it hurts, if I could protect you I would..."

"You make me happy," Tara smiled, sadness still colouring her voice, but with warmth in her eyes. "You make me feel like I deserve you. When things get really bad... that's what I hold on to. You." She cupped Willow's cheeks and softly kissed her, lingering on her lips for a long time.

"Sit tight," Willow said levelly, once they had parted. "I'll make her see reason, I promise."

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One of Frosta's silent ice soldiers escorted Willow back to the queen's chambers, a palatial series of chambers crafted in intricate detail, filled with sculptures in ice, cold and beautiful. Frosta herself was waiting, reclining on a pedestal that, as she regarded her guest without moving, and with her ever-present icy mist, made her seem like another ice statue. Before her, lonely, a single flower grew from an ornate vase, a reminder of the garden hidden away below. The soldier stepped behind Willow as she entered, taking up position in the doorway and melting into an indistinct barrier, sealing the room.

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"I know what you're going to say," Frosta said, before Willow could address her. "I don't like to waste time, so let's get it over with."

"Tara isn't responsible for what she did as a Horde Captain," Willow said flatly. "She was enchanted - a witch called Shadow Weaver placed spells on her that locked away the part of her that could tell right from wrong."

"Just following orders, was she?" Frosta scowled.

"She had no choice," Willow insisted. "There was no way she ever could have refused to 'follow orders' - the Horde took that from her. She'd never have served them willingly."

"What do you expect me to do?" Frosta asked. "Willing or not, she's one of the butchers that all but wiped out this whole civilisation! She has to pay for what she did!"

"She does not!" Willow spat.

"Justice-"

"Don't you dare! If you were interested in justice... She pays for what happened every day, and she doesn't deserve any of it. She's the kindest, gentlest person I know - do you have any idea what it does to her, to have to remember what the Horde made her do? What they made her be?"

"Be careful, witch," Frosta frowned. "I like plain speech, but there are ways you should not address a queen."

"Or what, you'll throw me in jail too?" Willow continued, unbowed. "You listen, highness - you've thrown my lover in jail, and twisted the knife in the wounds the Horde gave her, and now you're damn well going to listen to me." She took a step forward and plunged her fingers into the soil in the vase, ignoring Frosta's startled protest. The flower writhed and twisted, its petals shrinking, giving way to thorns and barbs, growing into a vicious, coil-like tendril.

"How dare you!" Frosta yelled, gripping the tendril as it snaked towards her.

"Go ahead, kill it," Willow sneered. "Look, it's trying to hurt you. Kill your precious flower."

"I'll kill you," Frosta threatened.

"Because it had no choice," Willow nodded. She let out a weary sigh, and the spiky plant shrunk back to its former shape, spines and thorns withering as rosy, delicate petals unfurled once more. There was a long, silent moment as Frosta stared at her.

"You play dangerous games," she said quietly, at last.

"This isn't a game," Willow said, hushed but determined. "No-one on this planet has suffered more than Tara, and every time she sees a Horde trooper it reminds her of what she did. Sometimes... I wish she'd give up, and we'd go away to somewhere the Horde would never find us, and never see them again. No-one could have earned it more. But she doesn't - she stays, and she faces them, and when it gives her nightmares I hold her and I tell her everything will be all right, somehow..."

Frosta looked away, no longer able to meet Willow's gaze.

"It's the Horde that killed your people," the sorceress went on. "Punishing Tara won't bring them back - it'll just continue what the Horde did to her. Is that what you want?"

"Get out," Frosta said, without looking up. Willow opened her mouth to protest, but before she could the queen added: "Take her with you. Go, and never come back."

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Willow and Tara both let out relieved sighs, as the teleportation magic deposited them back in the glacial cavern they had entered by.

"Not quite what we were hoping for," Tara admitted ruefully, as she pulled her cloak over her shoulders and transformed, holding Willow close to keep her warm.

"I've still got you," Willow smiled. "Whatever else happened, that's a good day for me."

"Thank you, Willow," She-Ra said softly.

"You don't have to thank me," Willow said bashfully. "There's no way I'd have left you, you know that."

"I know," She-Ra nodded. "Thank you for helping me believe in myself. There are times when it can be... very tempting, to just give in to the memories, of what I was. Even if it means being punished for things I had no control over, it'd be a kind of end to the fight not to give in to guilt. Thank you for reminding me of who I am."

"You never have to thank me for that," Willow promised. "Come on, let's go home. We might just make it back in time for the new year."

"Not yet," She-Ra shook her head.

"Not yet what?"

"There's still the mine. We came here to destroy it."

"We came here to get help to destroy it," Willow pointed out. "We don't have it, there's just you and me - and my magic's no good on a glacier."

"I had time to think," She-Ra said calmly. "There wasn't anything else to do while I was locked up, and it didn't look like Frosta was going to go along with our original plan. There may be a way for me to destroy the mining operation on my own." Willow stared at her steadily.

"There's no way I can talk you out of this, is there?" she asked, with a wry smile.

"You're too brave to do that," She-Ra replied.

"We're a pair, then," Willow sighed. "Alright, then - mine-ward ho, we should get a start on it while there's some daylight left. I guess a proper solstice night will have to wait until next time."

"Don't be so sure," She-Ra smiled. "We'll find a spot out of the wind, have a feast of trail rations... snuggle for warmth?" A grin spread across Willow's features.

"Maybe you're right," she said. "In Brightmoon solstice celebrates what's most important in our lives. I've got that right here."

Tara leaned over and touched her forehead to Willow's.

"So do I."

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Tara crawled to the edge of the ridge, trying to keep her cloak between herself and the icy ground, and waved for Willow to join her once she could see over the top. In a crater beneath them a sprawling, ugly Horde facility lay on the land like a wound, belching thick smoke into the air.

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"That's the etherium bore," Tara explained quietly. "Etherium is drawn up from deep underground here, and pumped through those pipelines to a refinery two miles further on. That's where the workers are kept - the bore is entirely automated."

"Unmanned?" Willow asked.

"No workers," Tara said. "But there'll be a strong contingent of Horde troopers. Because no slaves are needed here, the bore station doubles as the command centre." They ducked and pulled their cloaks over themselves as they heard the engine whine of batmechs on the wind.

"So how do we take this place out?" Willow asked in a whisper.

"Etherium reacts with some explosives and electric fields," Tara whispered back. "When it's drawn up from the underground reserves it goes into a reinforced chamber first, kind of like a safety tank, so that any accident on the surface won't spread a reaction down underground and collapse the seam they use to get at the reserves. I'll get inside, bring down the security systems, get to the armoury, steal a suitable bomb, drop it into the safety chamber, and then get out before the whole base blows itself to bits."

"That's a lot to do," Willow said warily. "What do I do?"

"Willow," Tara said, "I know you want to help, but it's too dangerous."

"But-"

"Willow," Tara repeated. "I can be She-Ra when things heat up. There's no plant life down there, nothing at all - you'd have no weapons and no defences. It's too dangerous, and if I'm going to do this... I need to know you're safe."

"We've fought together before," Willow said.

"I know," Tara nodded. "But with no magic... Put it this way: if I couldn't become She-Ra, would you let me go in there?" Willow stared down at the base, then gave an exasperated sigh.

"Okay, point taken," she accepted, with bad grace. She risked a glance up as a flight of batmechs passed overhead, accompanying a larger craft.

"I recognise those markings," Tara said quietly, as the craft descended towards a landing pad on the base. "A xenian called Leech - he must be the commander here."

"How dangerous is he?" Willow asked.

"I've never seen him in person," Tara shook her head. "All I know is he has some kind of energy draining ability - he drains life-force from people and uses it to replenish his own. I think it's inherent to his species, it's how they feed." She gave Willow's hand a reassuring squeeze. "I'll make sure I stay well away from him. First thing I do will be to knock out the circuits controlling the thermal weapons - that'll make them think Frosta's people are going to attack, and turn all their attention to the main slopes leading down to the base. By the time they realise there's no army coming from outside, I'll have blown the tank from inside."

"Okay," Willow said, suppressing her worry. "But I'm coming with you right up to the perimeter. I can keep out of sight there - but I'm not letting you out of my sight for a second longer than I have to. You're sure your access codes will still work?"

"Horde officers don't last long by trusting each other," Tara said grimly. "I learned that quickly - I made sure I gained access to all the codes I could, not just the ones I was supposed to know. With luck Hordak won't have overhauled every code in every facility just because I defected."

"It's the 'with luck' that bothers me," Willow said. "Make sure you're lucky, okay?" Tara kissed her quickly.

"I am lucky," she grinned.

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After leaving Willow safely concealed near the base perimeter Tara circled around to the main gate and walked up the ramp. Horde troopers patrolled mindlessly just beyond the razorwire and electromesh barriers; Tara shivered at the sight of them, and summoned up all her anger at what Shadow Weaver's spells had done to her, for so many years. The emotion kept her face in a scowl, and made her body language cold and forbidding.

"Force Captain Tara, Special Directorate, Sunder Command," she said at the gate, as the guardian - a special trooper with an ungainly mass of surveillance and recognition hardware mounted on its shoulders and head - moved to bar her way.

"Accessing," it said flatly.

"Countermand - code indigo, pass-code parallax." Tara fought to keep her composure as the guardian paused, as if hesitating.

"Order acknowledged," it said at last. "Identity confirmed." It stood aside, letting a much relieved Tara stalk past it, into the base proper.

She wasted no time, ducking into the first doorway she came to, and dredging up her old memories of her time at the base she made her way through its labyrinthine service corridors, towards the security overseer centre. The base had changed in the years since its construction, but only superficially - the main corridors and junctions were as she remembered, and she found her bearings quickly.

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As she entered deeper into the facility a wave of disturbing familiarity passed over her. She remembered a time when these surroundings had been comforting - the cold, artificial enclosures of Horde-manufactured bases, the ever-present hum of machinery, the blood-red icons and banners at every turn, proclaiming the Horde's superiority. She remembered a time when she had been nothing but a reflection of the Horde war machine, as artificial and unfeeling inside as her surroundings were.

She tried not to hate the Horde, for what it had done to her - she had seen far too much of pure hatred, and didn't want to feel it in herself ever again. It wasn't easy, but as always, remembering Willow's belief in her, she had hope that she could manage.

Keeping away from the base's main thoroughfares, where the metal floors echoed to the tramp of troopers marching, using her codes to open service ducts and crawlways where she had to, she managed to reach the security centre unchallenged. The chamber was darkened, lit only by the glow of hundreds of screens, showing views from every camera in the base, inside and out. There were more than Tara remembered - she wondered if she had been spotted somewhere, but the lack of alarms suggested not, and that Willow was still undetected outside. She approached the overseer, and steeled herself for what she had to do.

"Security overseer," she said softly, "tertiary override - bypass synergistic failsafes, code indigo. Override support diagnostics. Override coded protocols. Disable support."

The overseer had been human, once - a woman, probably in her twenties when she had been taken. Her face was invisible beneath a mass of implanted artificial eyes, dozens of them making her look insectoid, each moving and focusing independently on a different screen. The implants continued down her body, crude life support apparatus puncturing her skin wherever it had been convenient for the designers who had transformed her. What was visible of her body was gaunt and sickly, skin a pale, sunless white except where a machine part had been implanted, where the edges of her skin were red and scarred.

At Tara's command several of the lights on the chair supporting her went dead, and some of the tubes connecting it to her body stopped pulsing, the fluids inside them ceasing their circulation. The overseer made a tiny sound, almost a sigh, and slumped a little further.

"I'm... sorry," Tara whispered, moving past her to the consoles themselves. She quickly found the controls to the thermal weaponry mounted on the base's cannon turrets, and rerouted their power, starting a loop which slowly built up in the weapons' capacitors. Hurrying, now that she had only a few minutes before the weapons detonated, she used every code she could think of to set up viral commands in the other defences - the same trick couldn't be used on the railguns, but she hoped her interference would keep them uncooperative for long enough for her to escape, when all hell broke loose. Finally she shut off the surveillance systems guarding the base armouries, and just for good measure - and to sow confusion - the trooper maintenance facilities and the main command centre.

"No time to lose," she muttered to herself, hurrying back out of the chamber, avoiding glancing at its silent occupant as she passed.

She moved more quickly now - she knew she was taking the chance of being spotted by a random scan, even though the overseer was gone, but she had no choice. Just as she rounded the last corner to the armoury she had selected as closest to the etherium tank she heard a muffled explosion from outside, then another and another, and sirens began to blare. A heavy blast door rumbled down from the ceiling ahead of her, sealing off the armoury. She skidded to a halt, staring at the barrier in surprise.

"Damn," she muttered, drawing her sword. "So much for stealth."

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Willow watched anxiously from her position just outside the base's perimeter. The uneventful minutes had dragged on seemingly endlessly since Tara had entered the base, then everything seemed to happen at once. One of the towers on the far side of the base had erupted in a sheet of flame, collapsing in no time as the heat melted the beams supporting it. Four more similar explosions followed, each destroying a tower - the heat beams, as Tara had promised - and emergency beacons had begun flashing from every corner of the base. Every doorway seemed to be disgorging Horde troopers, rushing to man gun turrets and surveillance posts, but they seemed to be meeting difficulties - many of the weapons had refused to move, while some had even begun firing randomly, and had been destroyed by their own crews when their salvos came close to hitting the base itself. Even so, the sight of that mass of mechanised soldiers, and their heavy weapons and war machines, sent a chill down Willow's spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

Suddenly there was firing from somewhere within the base's structure. Willow strained to see, edging as close as she dared. She caught a glimpse of something bright between two buildings, just for an instant, then a Horde tank came cartwheeling out of the gap, crushing everything in its way, and she breathed a sigh of relief even as she clenched her fists, wanting to rush forward and help.

"Lousy dead land," she muttered bitterly, pressing her palm to the ashen ground which, just like every other time she had tried since coming within sight of the Horde facility, yielded not even a spark of life.

The Horde army was converging on the centre of the disturbance, hampered by the dense buildings, and their own initial rush to man the perimeter. She-Ra emerged from the fray, darting about, always one step ahead of the trails of railgun and cannon-fire the troopers sent screaming towards her. Willow felt a familiar sensation - awe at the power and fearlessness of her lover, mixed with the slightest trace of fear. She knew better than to doubt Tara's gentle, compassionate nature, but there were times, in the heat of battle, when it seemed that she became She-Ra so completely that the warrior in her enveloped everything else, and seemed to be all that she was. Willow fought it down - it was a fear she had never seen come to pass, even when She-Ra was at her most powerful - she never stopped being Tara.

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A new sound drew her attention, and she looked across to see the transport aircraft lifting off its pad, turning in mid-air to face the raging battle. She wanted to shout a warning to She-Ra, but she saw it was unnecessary - the tiny, shining figure was already ducking behind a building, cutting off the aircraft's view of her as she tore her way through the troops waiting there. The transport gunned its engines, rising higher, but before it could climb far She-Ra stepped into the open, took hold of the barrel of a battle tank, and hurled it with all her strength into the air before again running for the cover of a building. The transport fired point-blank, blasting the tank to pieces, but it almost crashed itself as flaming debris rained onto it, forcing it down.

Willow let out a gasp of relief - but then the transport fired again, cannons and missiles slamming into the buildings She-Ra was using for cover. Willow felt herself cry out, but the detonations were loud enough to mask her yell. She-Ra was thrown to the ground, tumbling over and over and finally smashing into a steel barrier wall, crumpling to the ground.

"Get up," Willow whispered desperately. Seeing the Hordesmen's attention fixed on their target she broke cover and sprinted nearer, finding shelter in the shadow of one of the mangled heat beam turrets. Her heart started beating again when she saw She-Ra scramble to her feet, but her elation was cut short as the ground around her began to be churned up by fire from dozens of cannons. Robbed of cover, she ran desperately, straining to stay ahead of the withering hail of fire.

The transport loomed closer, firing more missiles - She-Ra leapt aside to avoid the worst of their blast, but found her avenue of escape cut off. The transport's guns opened fire, trying to force her back, while troopers closed in from behind her, the battle tanks levelling their cannons at her. In desperation she sprinted forward, vaulted atop a ruined tank, then to the edge of a building's roof, and launched herself into the air, straight at the approaching aircraft.

It fired again, and She-Ra swung her sword, catching the oncoming missile and slamming it aside, but its blast caught her and she tumbled through the air, almost missing her target. She reached out and caught a railgun barrel as she fell, swinging herself up onto the craft's hull and raising her sword. From somewhere on the ground a squad opened fire, their shots slamming into her stomach, making her stagger, but she recovered and brought her sword down, tearing into the aircraft. It lurched out of the air, dipped sideways, and crashed violently into the buildings beneath, throwing She-Ra again into the open as its engines exploded in a hail of whirling shrapnel.

Before she could do more than stagger to her feet a trail of railgun fire caught her in the back, pushing her forwards. She lurched, caught herself from falling, but then had to dodge as a squadron of tanks rounded a corner and opened fire. Before she could recover another squad of troopers fired, hitting her dead on, throwing her back to the ground. The railguns fired again as she got to her knees, hammering her back, almost forcing her back to the ground. Slowly, with rounds slamming into her from every angle, she struggled to her feet and began to run, stumbling and dodging as best she could.

Willow felt her heart break, unable to believe what she was seeing. She-Ra swung her sword, knocking away a tank shell, only to be struck from behind by another, hurling her across the open ground. More and more turrets and troopers were zeroing in on her, opening fire, slowing her more and more, making her an even easier target. At the centre of a storm of shot she staggered forwards, step by step, fighting for every inch of ground she covered. There was a burst of light and she fell one last time, the guns falling silent, and when the light cleared Willow saw She-Ra's form dissolving, reverting to Tara.

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Ignoring the pain from the heated metal burning her, blistering the palms of her hands, Willow clambered up onto the wreckage of the tower in front of her. She dropped to the ground on the other side, clear of the perimeter's razorwire, and scooped up a rifle lying next to a wrecked trooper, its metal hand still clutching the grip, severed at the wrist. Taking unsteady aim with the unfamiliar weapon she fired, ignoring the attention she was drawing to herself, concentrating on nothing but clearing a path for her Tara to escape.

Caught by surprise the first ranks of troopers Willow shot fell quickly, their comrades briefly confused as to the source of the new attack. As they faltered Tara rose, charging forward in the sudden confusion, slashing at the troopers with her sword, striking them with her bare hand, kicking and ramming.

Willow felt a desperate elation for an instant, then a monstrous figure loomed out of the shadows, a muscled, misshapen creature with thick, leathery, sickly-looking skin, webbed hands and feet, and a mouth stretched permanently open by a mass of slimy flesh bunched within it. It threw troopers out of its way and reached into the melee, leaning down, and when the press of bodies cleared it had Tara's head held between its huge webbed claws, and the clump of flesh in its mouth was pressed against her scalp, pulsing as if it were feeding.

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"Let her go!" Willow screamed, racing forwards. The creature saw her, and detached one hand to wave the troopers down. Even with its grip lessened Tara was unable to break free - she reached feebly for Willow, her face twisted in sorrow and pain, while her legs buckled beneath her. The xenian's mouth distended, the fleshy appendage bloating further from its jaws to keep contact with Tara's head.

Willow raised the rifle and fired at it, aiming high so as not to risk hitting Tara. Several of her shots missed, but three hit, punching oozing holes in the creature's shoulder. It gurgled, then gave a wet, guttural laugh. The pace of its 'feeding' quickened, Tara stiffened and howled in agony, and the creature's wounds slowly healed themselves.

"Try again," it said, in a croaking, distorted voice. Willow brought the rifle to her shoulder, but didn't fire, knowing that it would only hurt Tara. The xenian began to laugh again, enjoying her anguish as much as it was enjoying feeding off Tara's strength.

A sudden, intense tremor rocked the area, and both Willow and the xenian staggered. A shining white point emerged from the ground, a drill made of ice, and as quickly as it had appeared it melted away, leaving Frosta standing in its place.

"Let her go, and get out of my realm," she snarled at the creature. She advanced on it, raising a staff which bristled with icy energy.

"Go ahead," the xenian gurgled. "This one has enough strength left to undo whatever you can do, witch."

"Frosta no!" Willow called. "It's killing her to heal itself!"

Frosta hesitated just as she came within the xenian's reach, looking down at Tara, then back at Willow, uncertainty clear in her eyes. With a triumphant laugh the creature detached its mouthpiece from Tara and slammed it into Frosta's chest, sucking vitality out of her violently fast. Willow began to run forwards, then stumbled in surprise as she saw Frosta, apparently quite unconcerned, look back at her attacker and smile dangerously.

"Gotcha," she smirked. The xenian frowned in confusion, then staggered as if struck by a sudden pain. Its fleshy mouth-extension began to discolour, turning pale and deathly, and the paleness quickly spread to its head, down into its chest, and from there all over its body. It tried to pull back but Frosta grabbed hold of its mouthpiece and held it in place, watching as its leathery hide began to crack, revealing the muscle beneath turning to ice. It gave a howl, which stopped abruptly as its face froze, then Frosta calmly reached out a hand and pushed it on the chest, and it toppled over backwards and shattered on the ground.

Willow raced to Tara's side, supporting her as she tried to get to her feet.

"Willow," she panted, "the tank... etherium... have to get... away-"

"What's that?" Frosta asked, swinging her staff around and creating a wall of ice around them, as the troopers, seeing their master dead, opened fire again.

"This whole place is going to explode!" Willow said quickly.

"That'll be an improvement," Frosta shrugged. "I don't think you two would like my mode of transport exactly - I'll improvise something else. Can you run?"

"Yes," Tara nodded, gripping her sword. Unnoticed by Frosta the jewel glowed, and Willow felt Tara's strength returning.

"Alright then, follow me!" the queen said, dissolving the ice wall in front of them and sprinting forwards.

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She leapt into the mass of Horde troopers, unleashing vast waves of freezing energy from her staff, consuming troopers and vehicles and shells and missiles in a haze of frost. Willow and Tara sprinted behind her, surrounded by icy statues of their enemies. Just as they neared the perimeter the ground shook, and a titanic blast of green flame erupted from the centre of the base, soaring high into the sky.

"You weren't kidding," Frosta noted, sounding mildly impressed. "Here, grab on." She offered her hand, which Tara took, holding Willow's hand in turn. Unleashing one last wave of energy behind them to cover their escape, Frosta turned her magic on the ground in front of her, creating a path of ice that drew her along its length, with Willow and Tara trailing along behind, slipping and sliding and clutching tightly to each other to keep their balance. Behind them the mining base consumed itself in a hemisphere of emerald fire, chasing the three fleeing women for a moment until it slowed, and petered out just as they skied up the slope and out of the crater.

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No trace of the Horde facility remained. Willow, Tara, and Frosta stared down from the lip of the crater, watching a swarm of ice soldiers moving about, sweeping the damaged ground with frozen mists. A huge sleigh, made entirely of ice, waited for its queen behind them. It began to snow gently, and Frosta closed her eyes, seeming to drink in strength. She had seemed weary after her rescue, and hadn't spoken since, while Willow had been busy tending to Tara. She was still shaky from her ordeal, but Willow, reaching her magical senses into her lover's body, was reassured that she had suffered no permanent harm.

"I'm... not sure what to do, now," Frosta said at last.

"The Horde will try to rebuild," Tara warned.

"We'll be ready," Frosta said resolutely. "We now how they defeated us last time - we won't let them gain a foothold here again. And without them draining the etherium... the realm will be warm again, life can spread beneath the glaciers. Perhaps one day, it'll be as if the Horde never came here." She turned to Willow and Tara, her expression uncomfortable, but sincere.

"Thank you," she said. "We have a future again... in spite of how I treated you."

"I'm... sorry," Tara said quietly. "Nothing can bring those people back, or undo the years of loss. But I hope you can make your realm as beautiful as it must have been before."

"Tara," Frosta said, with difficulty. "I was wrong. What I blamed you for... I was wrong. I hope you can forgive me."

"I should be the one asking forgiveness," Tara shook her head.

"No, your sorceress showed me that isn't true," Frosta said. "And you showed me again, here. You shouldn't feel guilt for what the Horde made you do." She gave a quick grin. "But if you're going to persist in feeling it anyway, then... I forgive you." She held Tara's gaze for a moment, then shifted to Willow, and reached out to take her hand.

"You're always welcome in the Queendom of Snows, sorceress of the Whispering Woods," she said.

"Thank you," Willow replied. "And likewise. If you ever feel like visiting."

"It's something I'll look into," Frosta said. "There's a lot to do here, but perhaps one day... In any case, I'll make arrangements for you two to be speeded on your way - walking isn't the best way to cross glaciers. Even if you do have ample magic for the task. Your sword?" she asked Tara.

"Y-yes," Tara nodded, exchanging a surprised glance with Willow.

"Well, that, and Horde armies don't just tear themselves apart," Frosta shrugged. "Do you know where it comes from?"

"No... I've had it for as long as I can remember," Tara said.

"I can't offer much," Frosta said. "In fact I shouldn't even be saying this to anyone but a fellow sorcerer-queen, but it's your sword after all, and you," she glanced at Willow, "are a... fairly powerful sorceress, so far as your forest is concerned anyway."

"Thanks," Willow said dryly.

"The magic you use comes from Mystacore," Frosta said to Tara. "Only someone from one of the oldest lineages of sorcery would recognise it, and there's damned few left - luckily for you, I happen to be one of them." She gave a completely shameless grin.

"Mystacore," Willow said, slightly awed.

"You do know the place, right? It's in your forest after all," Frosta frowned.

"Well, yes technically, but..." Willow hesitated. "No-one's seen inside Mystacore since it fell. There's magic in the ruins that the forest can't even touch, and no-one's ever gone in and come out alive."

"Not just anyone could," Frosta said. She gave Tara a glance. "You might want to try, though. Just a thought. And no, I really can't say more. If you must know, I really don't know more. Whatever happened during the fall... who knows. But I know Mystacorian magic when I feel it."

"Thank you," Tara said, wonderingly. "We'll... see." Willow looked at her, and gave her arm a reassuring squeeze.

"Wait here," Frosta said over her shoulder, as she turned and walked towards her sleigh. "I'll get this ready to carry you as far as the ice goes."

"Mystacore," Tara said in a hushed voice, looking at Willow.

"I know a little about it," she replied. "There may be some records in Brightmoon, too. Going there might be dangerous, but if your magic comes from it... We'll find a way. I'll start looking as soon as we get back."

"No," Tara shook her head. "The first thing we'll do when we get back is light a warm, cosy fire... snuggle up in front of it... some nice thick blankets, and just you and me underneath them... and we'll forget all about snow." She nodded as a smile spread across Willow's face.

"Sounds perfect," she said softly. Her smile faltered slightly. "You... you really scared me, there." Tara nodded, and offered an apologetic half-smile.

"I realised," she said quietly, "right in the middle of it all... there was nothing I wanted more than to get back to you. Nothing more important, not even escaping the memories of who I was, before. My life is with you." She chuckled wryly. "I just had to walk through a firestorm to figure it out."

"You were kind of being a dummy there," Willow said, making light of it, but doing nothing to hide the intense feeling in her gaze. "Atypical of you."

"I'm not planning to make a habit of it," Tara grinned.

"Well good," Willow nodded.

"Let's go home," Tara smiled, leaning close to kiss her.

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[center]THE END
Until next time...[/center]

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"Hi there! It's me, Dawnie. Did you find where I was hiding today? If not, take another look:

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"In today's adventure, Tara was feeling really bad. Everyone feels bad sometimes, and it can be because of something you have no control over. But just remember, you can always ask for help from your family, or your friends. With people who really love you, you don't have to pretend to be strong when you need a hand - and when you think of how much they love you, you'll probably feel better, too! Bye now!"

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Chris Cook
Through the Looking-glass - Every world needs a Willow and Tara.


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 Post subject: Re: RKT presents "Sing A Song of Christmas"
PostPosted: Sun Dec 10, 2006 9:21 pm 
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21. Geek Infested Roots
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Joined: Mon Oct 24, 2005 10:10 am
Posts: 3493
Topics: 1
Location: Maple Ridge, British Columbia, Canada
DIBS!

ETA: OK, I'm back.

First off, let me just say a great big, HOORAY! to the return of Willow and Tara in She-Ra form. I got the Best of Set back in July, and watched the movie lots of times. (Not so much the episodes, though. I mean, I did watch them. Just not as much as I watched the movie, y'know?) Have you picked up Season 1, Volume 1 yet? Current finances (and a message about a defective disc) prevent me from getting it right now, so I may wait till all three sets come out before I get them. (And despite what I hope, I don't think that S2 is going to be cheaper, considering we're most likely talking about once again seeing a six disc set to cover 33 episodes plus bonus stuff.)

Anyways, this fic has been the highlight of a rather shitty twenty four hours that has seen me stress out about everything from not being able to pay my tuition to studying for my final exam in Arts and Culture to studying for a Math test that pretty much sent me over the edge of sanity (not that I was every anywhere near there to begin with...). It was nice for me to say that this day wasn't a complete and total loss.

Anyways, onto the actual feedback.

I'm glad that for this fic, you decided to focus more on just Willow/Tara (of course, this is the Kitten, so a certain amount of W/T action is expected, both of the story and of...well, you know.) I guess I kinda enjoyed seeing Joyce as Queen Joy, Xander as Bow, Faith as Catra and Buffy as Glimmer so much that their absence from this story was a bit sad to see. Necessary, I guess, given the type of story you were telling, but sad nonetheless.

Then again, seeing Anya as Frosta was a nice touch (if that what who she was meant to be. I base that assumption on what Justin says below, since there was no instance when reading this when that became obvious to me). And it’s funny, I guess. Back when I read the original story, I was comparing Buffy to She-Ra characters and wondering which combinations you would use in future stories. The first one that came to mind: Anya as Frosta. Why? Beats me, though I guess it has something to do with the fact that it makes the most sense (and makes me wonder who we can expect to see replace She-Ra characters in future stories.)

What I think I enjoyed the most was seeing Tara's reactions to what she had done while under Hordak's control. You mentioned in feedback to the first story how much you wanted to explore that (or at least hinted at that, so I'm glad to see it show up here) and how much Willow was able to convince both Tara and Frosta that what she had done during that time was not her fault.

And of course, I enjoyed seeing Dawn as Loo-Kee again. I can just imagine her speaking as Loo-Kee does. From the episodes I've seen, he isn't really as annoying as some fans make him out to be. Of course, I don't find Jar Jar Binks that annoying, either, so that's not a good comparison. (And frankly, count me among the legions of Transfans that considers Wheelie to be the devil incarnate when it comes to Transformers characters most fans want to see erased from existence.)

I said before that other stories may top Karinna's fic as the best this series has produced. This certainly does that, but on a different level. Karinna's fic is the best realistic story, but this is the best uber story, coming in slightly ahead of "Sleigh Ride" only because I haven't read "Green Eyed Red" in its entirety yet.

Good job, Chris. Bring on the next fic.

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 Post subject: Re: RKT presents "Sing A Song of Christmas"
PostPosted: Mon Dec 11, 2006 5:12 am 
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second dibs!

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 Post subject: Re: RKT presents "Sing A Song of Christmas"
PostPosted: Mon Dec 11, 2006 11:08 am 
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Third dibs + feedback :p

I really liked this story, it made a great continuation of your earlier She-ra fic.

I have to admit while I was reading the start I was a little distracted since I was so busy looking for Dawn in all the pictures. it paid off since I spotted her this time :peace

When Anya, sorry, Frosta was talking about justice I was reminded of the line from Batman Begins about justice being about attaining balance, while vengeance is just about making ourselves feel better. I think Frosta was after the latter since punishing Tara wouldn't have helped anyone the horde had killed, plus it would have ensured her queendom remained enslaved.

The fact that this made Tara doubt herself is also of the bad, it's just good that Willow was there to reassure her with :wtkiss

I liked the scene when Willow got all large with the butch. Effectively saying, "you can't hurt me any more than you have already, so I can pretty much do what I want." :smug

The fight against the Horde was rather worrying, especially when She-ra turned back into Tara. It's a good thing Frosta turned up then, redeeming her for her earlier mistakes.

So in all, great story & great graphics

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 Post subject: Re: RKT presents "Sing A Song of Christmas"
PostPosted: Mon Dec 11, 2006 4:48 pm 
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Chris Now thats what I call a story you bring the story to life and it dance on the page and in our minds :party


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 Post subject: Re: RKT presents "Sing A Song of Christmas"
PostPosted: Wed Dec 13, 2006 2:23 pm 
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Chris
I was so happy to see another episode in your She-Ra AU - I just love these incarnations of W&T. I went back and read your first 'cos I enjoyed it so much.

Great story. I have to compliment you on your descriptions of the fighting. It's hard to find the balance between enough detail and too much, but you do. I confess I often skip fight sessions, reading only the beginning and end, as I find the pace of the story often bogs down there, but this isn't the case with your writing.

I liked the way you kept bringing in references to celebrating solstice to tie the story in with Christmas. The Christmas Carol version of Christmas doesn't bear much resemblance to the long hot days, with time at the beach and evenings filled with the buzz of crickets, that is Christmas for me. However, I still love the idea of a white Christmas (and I've had a few) based almost entirely on old movies of the 40's (?) - musicals with Bing Crosby, Fred Astaire, Ginger Rogers, Gene Kelly, etc and the lovely songs therein, which I devoured when I was around 13 or so and still love. 'Let It Snow' is a favourite and you've done it proud.

Thanks
Anne

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 Post subject: Re: RKT presents "Sing A Song of Christmas"
PostPosted: Wed Dec 13, 2006 3:14 pm 
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Chris.

I know not of She-Ra, but I thought your story was lovely, and the moral at the end truely befitting the season. I don't know if Willow and Tara were adapted from actual characters (ok, I am assuming Tara was 'cause, hello, She-Ra), but the Sorceress of the Whispering Woods was a great portrayal of Willow - she is always rooting for the ones she loves! I was also quite delighted to see Willow in her supporting fabulous glory and Tara feeling glum about her past actions and seeking redemption for aforementioned actions... a kind of switcharoo in characterization from most fics I've read.

Bravo, Chris!

Anyway, I really enjoyed the story -- and the whole animated sword/erection thingie made me snicker more than a few times :glasses .
Image
What? Was I not supposed to say anything? Well, I couldn't resist. The "sword" of she -ra.

Tee hee :-D.


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 Post subject: Re: RKT presents "Sing A Song of Christmas"
PostPosted: Wed Dec 13, 2006 5:41 pm 
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Chris - I think my favorite part of this might be the incredibly dorky ending message or whatever they call those things. When you feel bad you can talk to someone? Ha ha. I mean it's true but geez: state the obvious much? Ha ha.

A very beautiful and dense story as usual. Quite actiony but also lovey. I like this:

Quote:
"You make me happy," Tara smiled, sadness still colouring her voice, but with warmth in her eyes. "You make me feel like I deserve you. When things get really bad... that's what I hold on to. You." She cupped Willow's cheeks and softly kissed her, lingering on her lips for a long time.


Very sweet. Well done.

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 Post subject: Re: RKT presents "Sing A Song of Christmas"
PostPosted: Wed Dec 13, 2006 11:13 pm 
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A nice return to the whole general mishmash of AU She-Ra and Willowverse.
Nothing caps off an 80's homage better than the obligatory lesson.
They were subtle in those days, weren't they?
Lure you in with Tara/SHe-Ra in the form-fitting costume showing lots of curvy thigh and you'd completely forget they were teaching you something.

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 Post subject: Re: RKT presents "Sing A Song of Christmas"
PostPosted: Thu Dec 14, 2006 6:55 am 
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justin - so sorry for the late feedback; I was away last weekend and have been struggling to catch up this week. I liked your story; it was an interesting device to have the girls pulled in to Meghan's coma. I thought for a few scenes it was a dream or something, and didn't figure it out until the girls did. And so, so sweet that they decided to start a family together! Very well done.

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 Post subject: Re: RKT presents "Sing A Song of Christmas"
PostPosted: Thu Dec 14, 2006 11:27 am 
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Dangit! I'm so late with the feedback...sorry guys.

Justin: I thoroughly enjoyed your story. Like some people said, you were able to make it sound like a BtVS episode without being too obvious or taking the plots. And it was very well done. If Mr. Whedon would have had more writers like you, maybe things would have turned out differently for all of us kittens. The end was really sweet. I think you did a fantastic job with this story. Thanks! :D


*scurries off to read Chris' *

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 Post subject: Re: RKT presents "Sing A Song of Christmas"
PostPosted: Thu Dec 14, 2006 2:36 pm 
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Sorry I'm kinda late with the feedbacky goodness. :sigh

Yay! Chris! Woo and HOO! Awesome story. I just love when Tara gets all large with the She-Ra! tee hee! :luv (wow... that's four exclamation points so far... I'm fairly excited about this story, me thinks. :blush ) I liked the end with the ye old moral and of course spotting Dawnie was a hoot. And can I just say that I love a story with illustrations :cool Great job, Chris!!

xoxo
Emms

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 Post subject: Re: RKT presents "Sing A Song of Christmas"
PostPosted: Thu Dec 14, 2006 4:26 pm 
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justin -- I've read the draft, of course, so I knew what was going on. I think you're trying to flit between the scenes and timelines in a way that is deliberately disorientating, right? Just as it would feel like for the protagonists.
Quote:
“Well this is all just a dream, so we might as well enjoy ourselves.”

Yep, very meta. Fantastic.

Quote:
Willow felt herself falling backwards into an abyss.

***

“Wow, that was fun,” Willow said.

Sometimes the transitions could be confusing. Again, I think it adds to the sense of unknown. Plus, driving towards one place and yet getting further away? :hmm Nice story, I had to stay alert throughout and made me think.

*****

Chris -- oh wow. oh wow. A very She-Ra Christmas. She-Ra is definitely growing on me but what I loved most was Willow's courage. Obviously she was away from her source of power, but still when it mattered most, she came through.

Excellent characterisation with Frosta too. Yes, she has shades of Anya, especially in the bitterness and holding a grudge. But she also came through at the end.

But Tara is the main character in this story. It must be so devastating, to carry the guilt of the death and suffering of worlds of people.
Quote:
She pays for what happened every day, and she doesn't deserve any of it. She's the kindest, gentlest person I know - do you have any idea what it does to her, to have to remember what the Horde made her do? What they made her be?

Despite how much she rationalises it, that Willow tries to explain, that she was no more than the hand of Papa Horde ... those deaths were still by her hands.

Oh, the mine facility in the middle of the ice, I dunno why but it reminded me of the part in the X-files movie when Mulder and Scully were in the Antarctic. Great action sequences with She-Ra, Willow and Frosta to the rescue. Good times. Thanks for another great addition to the series and the She-Tara franchise. Great drawings too, Leah.
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 Post subject: Re: RKT presents "Sing A Song of Christmas"
PostPosted: Fri Dec 15, 2006 5:31 am 
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[center]Image[/center]

Title: Good King Wenceslas: The Untold Story
Author: Emms
Disclaimer: I own nothing, and Willow and Tara are the sole property of Joss and company.
Summary: Once upon a time in a land known as King's Court, where the landscape is covered, most of the year, with a fine blanket of snow, lived a good king and his only daughter. This is their story.
Rating R
Note: Thanks to Kindagay for acting as beta. She’s the bestest. I made a few changes to the beta'd draft, so any and all mistakes are mine.
Note: Thanks to all the RKT’ers for their support and humor throughout this project. You are all so ROCKIN’!
Note: Thanks to Chris in particular ‘cos of the oh so cool graphic! You rock the biggest!
Note: Thanks to Kaia for stepping in for Janna and gifting us with such a wonderfully sweet story as Tin Soldier. You Rock the hardest!
Note: Thanks to Watty for keeping me in the loop when I wasn’t around so much, and for checking up on me from time to time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Willow stood behind her father's throne, gazing unnoticed out of the large leaden glass window, whilst the Festivities carried on all around her. She cared little for the performance going on before the mélange of party guests, and entertainers who were standing in large semi-circles around the grand ballroom. Two of the entertainers were, at that moment, performing a play-act for the king, about which there was much gaiety within the crowd. Willow, however, saw no humor in the cumbersome brothers, and an anxiety like concoction that had been coiling in her stomach since she awoke that morning was showing signs of erupting into a blemish upon her father's bash. There was something very wrong in the air that day, and it made Willow uneasy.

The need to run outside; run out into the snow and lose herself, was getting steadily harder to ignore and to make matter's worse, there was no sign of reprieve from her current placement. Perhaps, she thought, if she was to run outside, much to the chagrin of her father and his guests, she would freeze to death, if she was lucky. The macabre thought made Willow giggle, and her father turned to study her.

"I'm glad to see that you're finally getting into the spirit of the season, daughter. It does a father good to see his only child enjoying herself." He paused for effect. "Isn't it a grand party?"

His words were more of a statement than a question, so Willow made an inarticulate sound of agreement and nodded her head to match, which appeased him.

"Just think. One day you and your husband will host parties as grand as this one," the king said pointedly.

But Willow wasn't in the mood to indulge her father in his plans for her future. "I have no wish to marry."

"If you do not choose someone to marry, than I shall choose for you. And I shall not be as generous with my choosing. If you are not careful, you will end up with the very next soul that wanders through the garden, be it man or woman; rich or poor." The king laughed in peals at his own joke, throwing his head back to reveal pearly white teeth set against a graying length of beard. It was Festivities and he was having a jolly old time.

"I would prefer it to be a woman, and poor would be of no consequence," Willow said almost under her breath, but loud enough to be heard; her father, however, was still laughing heartily and didn't notice her. Willow suspected he'd already had a fair amount of mead and roast beast--which combined, was a sure way to put the king into a grand old mood. After his laughter petered into a stately cough, the king did, however, make comment on the latter part of her declaration, conveniently ignoring the more telling
component.

"Poor is good enough for the common folk, daughter, but a woman of your rank needs a man of suitable wealth and upbringing. Preferably a prince of some kind."

Willow groaned and rolled her eyes. Her father loved her, surely, but he knew her not at all. She didn't care about wealth and upbringing, and she certainly didn't care for men at all. And it wasn't her father's fault that he didn't know these things about his daughter for Willow never told her father or anyone for that matter about her deepest thoughts and feelings. The truth was, she was lonely.

Never allowed to leave the castle, Willow had to live her life vicariously through the many travelers who would come to the castle in search of rest and sustenance. Her father, being as kind as he was, always made a place for these providential people, and whenever Willow sat by the fireside listening to their tales of dragon slaying, and riding the countryside on wild mustangs that ran like the wind, she wished with all of her heart that she too could live such a life as they. If it was good enough for the common folk, then it was good enough for her. But her father would never see it that way, and though it was true that he was a good king, and that he loved his people and the country he ruled, her father, like most dignitaries, felt as though women of standing should not marry below their station. Oh he would invite the poor to dine at his table and he did feel a heaviness for their plight, but to allow them to marry his daughter was quite another matter.

Willow was still lost in thought when a movement out in the courtyard caught her eye, and she again turned to peer out the window. It took only a moment for the image to register in her brain, but infinitely longer for her to comprehend what was about to take place.

Outside, masked by snow, stood a man of usual build, who, to anyone else, would have looked like any other traveler who passed through their garden on any given day, but Willow could tell that there was something very different about this man, yet she couldn't pin-point what it was until he withdrew his hand from behind his back.

In his hand was a lightweight wooden bow, primed to the tip with a glistening and sharpened metal arrow. Willow could see it clearly then, and their eyes met--hers and the assassin's.

Assassin, Willow barely knew the word, there was no one in the land who hated the king enough to kill him, after all his name was Good King Wenceslas. He was a good king. That's how he got the name.

What Willow didn't realize in time was that the assassin was not there to kill the king. His mark was Princess Willow, for it was well known in the usually peaceful land of King’s Court that Good King Wenceslas was no more capable of producing another child as a bull was capable of bearing calf. Therefore, if he killed the princess, there would be no successor and so, when the king passed away, he would be the last king to ever rule.

Glass shattered and when the arrow hit, it struck the princess just below her rib cage. Willow felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her and as she sank to her knees beside her father's throne, her blood covered the white fur cuffs at the hem of the king's crimson robe.

At first she had been afraid as she waited for the pain; only there was no pain, just a sense of not being able to draw breath and an almost pleasant warming sensation at the point of impact. She was about to die and she knew it. And the knowledge of this felt like a soft hand, coming through the shattered remains of the window to rest peacefully on her chest. It was so pleasant and so warm that she thought if Heaven were only half as good as that, then she was okay with dying. The only regret that she had was that she would never experience riding a wild mustang over the plains of King’s Court, or know what it felt like to be in love and be loved in return. With that thought Princess Willow took her last breath.

The stunned frenzy of party goers ran about, trying in vein to organize help for her. Willow felt her father kneeling at her side, while wet tears plunked like raindrops from his eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tara, a poor adventurer who made her meager living as a huntress, was at that very minute tracking a dragon through the King's Forest-- a dragon that had been causing a bit of trouble in a small province in the southern hills of King’s Court.

She had been commissioned by the townspeople to dispatch of the dragon and so far she'd tracked the beast by following the trail of melted snow the dragon left behind him as he plodded and stomped his way through the sparse forest. It was obvious to her that this dragon was a young thing who could not yet fly as the trail of melted snow had yet to cease.

She knew it would not be a difficult kill once she actually caught up to the rogue dragon, but it was time consuming to track him all that way, and she was feeling a little tired. It was at this moment that Tara thought she spied a light just ahead, a glimmer in the steel blue sky just beyond the trees.

And that was how our heroine found herself in view of the castle on that fateful day. She'd come through the trees to see that the light she'd noticed had in fact been a lamppost that was situated just outside the massive castle. This was the estate of Good King Wenceslas, of course, and Tara laughed at her good fortune, for it was known throughout the land that travelers were welcome in the home of the king. In fact, there was a fellow traveler up ahead, standing three feet or so back from the large picture window adorning the ballroom.

Tara could see in through the window from the angle at which she stood and she peered in some distance behind the traveler into the ornately decorated room. Inside, the castle was alive with feasting, music and laughter. Tara praised her good fortune once more, for having brought her by way of the castle, and she smiled to herself at the merry scene.

But good fortune is a tricky creature, and what first looked like a harmless traveler peeking into the windows at the feast of Stephen with a wanting temptation in his eyes, upon closer inspection, gave Tara cause to be suspicious. Her years of tracking had taught her to notice the signs of one up to no good, and something about the lone figure piqued her intuition.

She approached from behind, careful to keep a distance from the man who suddenly seemed more menacing than he had only a moment before. Tara could see the stiffness in his body as he studied the party going on inside the ballroom.

Tara's eyes followed the man's gaze inside the room to where they were fixed on one in particular. Stunning, Tara thought to herself, when she saw, for the first time, the gorgeous woman standing behind the King's throne, her delicate fingers resting so lightly atop the fancy chair. Tara thought that the woman carried herself as a princess and therefore must be a princess, besides there was no one in the land so bold as to touch the king's throne without being blood kin.

Tara was so caught up watching the princess that she momentarily forgot about the suspicious man in front of the window, and it was only when the princess turned and their eyes seemingly met that she remembered herself. However, Tara soon realized that it was not she the princess had seen, but that the princess had spotted the man who had, in that instant, pulled a bow and arrow, as if from thin air, and had launched the arrow through the window, shattering the glass and the princess with one stroke.

Tara watched the girl fall to her knees and she felt a quivering in her stomach like something was about to be taken away from her--something she hadn't yet known. There was blood everywhere and for a brief second Tara’s world stopped spinning and time stood still. The princess was going to die, that was for certain, Tara could see death in the air around her, and for an instant there was fear in the princess’s eyes. But Tara was something of an apprentice magician, and could perform a few feats of magic now and then. And though she was no Merlin when it came to sorcery she could, however, do a few common-place spells. One of which was a Peace Giver spell.

Tara slowed her breathing and focused her energy through the shattered window and into the princess’s broken body. Their eyes met for the first time, and Tara saw a calm wash over the princess. They stayed linked that way until the king’s doctor and magician arrived and knelt over the fallen princes on either side, blocking Tara's view of her.

But where had the assassin gone? Tara looked around to see that the man had fled. There were footsteps pressed into the snow that lead into the trees. Tara didn't care that he had fled, she would find him regardless and when she did, Tara knew that the king would have his head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As it turned out, dying wasn't at all what Willow had thought it would be. It was a lot more painful, and a lot more like she remembered living to be. Even the people in heaven seemed to resemble people she knew when she'd been alive. Her only reprise, even in death, was that she slept a lot. And in her dreams the same soft hand that had wrapped around her in her last few moments, came to her again, taking away the pain of her injury once more.

But Willow had not died, after all, instead she had been saved. The royal doctors had arrived in time as had the royal magician, and together they'd saved her life. And while she drifted in and out of a fevered sleep, induced by the potions and herbs she was being made to drink by the pottering magician, the search for the assassin continued.

After the attack, when the king's men had been unsuccessful in capturing the criminal, the king had declared that a large sum of money would be awarded to anyone that could produce the assassin, either dead or alive.. Though the king would prefer that the criminal be brought in alive so that he could order the beheading himself. Usually the idea of such a grisly deed was unpleasant for the king, but in this case he would take great pleasure in making sure this man paid for his crimes, for he had nearly taken the life of his only child, and for that, there would be dire consequences for the guilty. The king had an idea he might even like to pull the switch on the guillotine himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three days later the man was turned over to the court and found guilty. He died at the hands of the king on the seventh day, after spending time in the castle dungeon where he consumed stale bread and stagnant water for several days before his execution.

The criminal became yet more interesting when the king set eyes upon the assailant’s captor.

She could not have been older than his daughter, in her nineteenth year maybe, but no older. The young lady was surely a vision, and the king smiled when he saw her, something he hadn't done since the day his darling daughter was wounded. The young lady was clearly a peasant of the Court and came bearing the name Tara. She wore her hair down, pinned at the top with a tortuous shell comb, but allowed to flow down her back in cascades of golden blonde.

When Tara had entered the throne room wearing men's pants and a tailored white shirt with ruffles about the front, and tucked into the hem at her belt, the young woman had bowed at the waist, the way a nobleman would do. The king found this interesting. So after paying the woman for her service, the king asked her to stay at the castle on the grounds that he would like for her to meet with the princess, as he was sure Princess Willow would feel poorly if she could not thank Tara properly for all that she had done.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tara accepted the king’s invitation, and the next day she found herself standing before an ornately carved four-poster bed in the Princess's chambers, looking down on the most exquisite creature she had ever seen. And she had seen many creatures, from mermaids that frolicked along the surf of the great salted sea, to larger-than-life dragons that could fry a soul on a cold day with the power of a mere sneeze. Yet in all of her travels and in everything she'd seen and done, she had never once felt so at one with the cosmos as she did in that very moment, watching the princess sleep.

Up close she was so soft looking, Tara thought, and when the guardsmen exited through the heavy wooden doors, leaving them alone, Tara sat carefully on the edge of the bed, next to the sleeping beauty. She remembered well the thing she'd witnessed only days ago and the thought of it made her sick.

Tara let her fingers run like gossamer over the woman's pale cheek. You're a rose; a sunset; Tara thought, mesmerized by the steady up and down motion of the princess’s chest. She wanted to place her hand over the bandages and the bloodspot that was soaking through the linen and lace nightgown the princess wore and take away everything inside her that hurt. She could do as much and was about to when the princess’s eyes fluttered, opening slowly to the dim light in the stone walled room. A yellow glow burned from a candle sat beside the bed, which gave Princess Willow's green eyes demure flecks of gold. Her long, silky, red hair was bathed in the same golden light, and Tara wanted to reach out and run her fingers through it, but she knew that she couldn't do that, as much as she wanted to, for if she started she may never stop.

Tara shook her head to clear the fog that had been steadily creeping in from the moment she'd come into the chamber. Her livelihood depended on a clear mind, and she'd certainly never been so touched by the mere sight of a woman before.

Once the princess had awakened fully, Tara introduced herself and bowed at the waist, much the same as she had done for the king. She was rewarded with a smile from Princess Willow, and was instantly warmed.

Tara stayed with the princess for much of that night while they talked a little and then the princess slept. When she felt her eyes growing heavy and she felt as if she might fall asleep Tara excused herself and retired to one of the castle's many guest chambers. A handmaid came and poured a bath for her, and Tara sat in the warm water, scrubbing her body with soap which smelled of the princess.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Festivities continued throughout the next few days and each night Tara, the king, his page, and hundreds of guests filed into the ballroom for large banquets, filled with all kinds of foods, most of which, Tara had never even heard of much less eaten before.

Throughout the course of each night she would be asked to regale the guests with tales of her adventures, and she would do so merrily, but when the music would start and the guests twirl onto the marble floors for dancing and merrymaking, Tara would sneak away, and go to the Princess, where she would either sit and watch the other woman sleep or they’d talk endlessly into the night about nothing and everything all at the same time.

It was magical and mystifying and Tara knew that her heart had been taken by Princess Willow, and had almost told her so on a few occasions, but something always stopped her. Perhaps it was because she knew she couldn't stay; there were still dragons to slay and bad men to bring to justice; her work would never be done. She would stay for as long as the princess was in need of her, and then she would be gone, like a leaf blown away by the wind. That was just the way it was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On the eighth day of Tara's stay, Willow sat up in bed for the first time. Her head felt woozy but other than that there was no pain. She longed to get up out of bed, but the guards outside her chamber door had strict instructions from the king to keep her in bed until the royal doctor was sure she had completely recovered. Willow hated it. And the only relief she felt was when Tara came through her door each night to keep her company.

Since meeting the blonde, Willow had begun to feel strange sensations under her skin and around certain parts of her anatomy which she had never quite felt before. Suddenly there were tingling sensations and melt-y sensations and fuzzy warm feelings of happiness and excitement whenever she was in close proximity to the blonde beauty, and Willow wondered each night, when Tara left her chamber, if it could be love that she felt for her.

Of course Willow knew, deep down in her heart, that it was indeed love that she felt for Tara and she also knew that Tara felt the same for her. For it was true that she came religiously each night into Willow's chambers where they would sit comfortably with each other, as if they had been doing so for many years. Yet as comfortable as they appeared to be with each other, there was something that nagged at Willow’s heart.

In all the time they’d spent together they had never once touched, and Tara would leave each night, retiring to a chamber many corridors away from Willow‘s. And even though Willow really wanted to ask the blonde to stay, and perhaps even sleep together with her in the same bed, she could never seem to gather enough courage to do so.

That was the way it was, until one night when the wind was howling fiercely outside her bedchamber window, and Willow, having awoken from a nightmare in which she'd been shot again, got out of bed and made her way carefully to her chamber door. It was ajar and she was able to press her eye to the crack between the wall and the slab of wood and see out into the stone corridor without much trouble. Conveniently there was only one guard that night, and he had fallen asleep at his post-- a crime punishable by death if the king ever found out. However, Willow had no intention of telling her father anything, her only want was to make it past the guard without waking him. Which she did, for she was a very clever princess.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tara was half dozing when Willow came through her doorway. The sight of the beautiful princess made her think that she had indeed fallen asleep, and was dreaming. But the look in Willow's eyes concerned Tara and she knew then that this was no dream. Something was terribly wrong. Tara sat up in bed then put her feet to the stone floor. She barely noticed the cold. The redhead seemed to falter momentarily and Tara thought that the princess might turn and run out the way she had entered.

"What's the matter, sweetie," Tara said carefully making her way over to where the redhead shivered in the glow of candle light that shone in through the doorway.

And then Willow did run; only first she had reached out and taken Tara's hand.

They ran like the wind down the long stone corridor while the moon’s light shone in segments along the stone floor, lighting their path with its stuttered shades of gray. There were torches lit at the far end of the corridor and Tara thought that the princess was surprisingly agile for someone with such a serious injury.

When Willow did stop, they were in the courtyard, near the iron gate. Aside from the gate, the courtyard was surrounded by a thick stone wall that stretched high above them. Tara wondered then if Willow had ever even seen the countryside which her family ruled over; or if the only sights she'd ever seen had come from fancy publications and from the stories of travelers during their passing. When Willow turned to face her, she was crying and Tara's thoughts instantly ceased. She saw the princess's tears glistening in the moonlight and she thought that perhaps she'd done something wrong--something she wasn't aware of, and was instantly heartbroken.

"Oh darling." Tara didn't know where the endearment had surfaced from, it had just come, accompanied by her hand stroking the back of Willow's long red hair, and her other hand slipping around the other girl’s back to draw her near.. .gently and with great care, Tara tried to comfort the crying woman, as she would have done a tearful child--only Willow was no child; which was made painfully obvious to Tara by the way her own insides seemed to ignite at the softness pressed against her.

Willow's tears turned quickly into sobs as she looked at Tara. Her dream had affected her more than she had admitted to herself, but she felt safe with Tara and when she'd awoken, she knew that there was no one else she would rather be with.

"Thank you, m' Lady," Willow sniffed against Tara's shirt, and then withdrew from the other woman's embrace. She felt a little better for having cried a bit.

Tara blushed. She had never been called a lady. She had always been berated for her shapely body and less than delicate ways.

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" Tara was concerned that she'd done something to offend the princess.

"Hide your smile behind your hair the way you do? I don't like it."

"My smile?" Tara said honestly.

"No; not being able to see it."

Tara's hand came up to cup Willow's cheek. Her palm was warm against Willow's skin; oh so warm and Willow felt herself melting into that touch. But then there seemed to be a melting all over her body and she was completely struck by it.

They were close now, really touching for the first time, and Willow thought she could feel Tara drawing nearer still, if that was possible. Or maybe she was just imagining the way the other girl's breath had stilled and the way her heart thudded in her chest, almost audibly, if Willow listened properly. But there was something else she needed to get out before she could allow what she thought was about to happen between them to happen. "I'm afraid," Willow said suddenly and she shivered not because of the cold, but because she longed for Tara's arms to come around her again. Which they did.

"Princess, the criminal is dead and gone. Your father saw to that himself," Tara said compassionately. She held Willow close to her, breathing in the fresh lily scent of her. "The king will not let you come to harm again; and neither will I," Tara said honestly.

"I am not afraid of the criminal."

"Then what frightens you, darling?"

"You are going to leave and that will hurt more than any arrow in my chest ever could," Willow admitted her true feelings for the first time, for she had known since she had admitted to herself that she was in love with Tara, that the blonde would not stay. There was wildness about her that Willow knew she could never hope to tame. Tara was a true adventurer, a warrior for the good fight, and with that came many responsibilities.

Before Tara could form a response to the princesses heartfelt words, they heard the sounds of the guardsmen stomping heavily down the hall.

Willow suspected that the guards had heard their voices in the garden and were on their way to sweep the area for suspicious persons. She didn't think that they had become aware of her disappearance as she knew there would have been more of a commotion if they had. So she and Tara slipped through a secret entrance that only Willow knew about which lead to the corridor with the still sleeping guard, and her very own bedchamber door.

They went quietly into Willow's bedchamber. Out of breath, and panting heavily from the scare of nearly being caught, Tara and the princess pressed their backs up against the heavy wooden doors.

But Willow couldn't seem to catch her breath, and she found herself growing lightheaded. She'd not had that much exercise in a long time, and it was proving almost too much for her frail body.

Tara saw Willow's face grow pale, and knew in a moment that the redhead was going to faint. Tara stretched out her hand, wrapping her arms securely around the slim waist before her, tucking the smaller woman into her body. She felt Willow's heartbeat slow, unbelievable and then pick up speed as it righted itself. Tara was worried for a moment that Willow wouldn't regain consciousness; there was something in the beat of her heart that worried Tara so.

But Willow came back and the color returned to her cheeks, and even so, they didn't let go of each other. And as the seconds drifted into minutes, there was a heat between them that begged for release. Tara had never felt such an overpowering urge simply to touch and the way Willow was pressing against her caused a friction that could not be denied.

Soon they were kissing and their clothes discarded around them, in piles on the cold stone floor. That night they would give in to the feelings that had been boiling inside of them for so long.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bed was warm, and Willow's naked body warmer still. So warm it nearly consumed Tara in a smoldering heat as her fingers searched, finding delicate wet folds, secret places she'd only ever imagined existed before that moment. And Willow's moans only added heat to the already burning flames behind her desire. Tara had never wanted to possess anyone so completely.

Willow's body stiffened and a feeling of such total bliss eclipsed her physical body, even her heart remained a steady beat in her chest and the world beyond her ornately carved bed ceased for one moment, while Tara's fingers pulsed inside her, pushing her further into a shattering stratosphere of their combined making. She had never dreamed that anything could feel as wonderful as this.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You're so beautiful." Willow stroked absent circles on the bare skin of Tara's stomach. It was an innocent statement, meant to skim the surface of the feelings rolling around beneath the exterior of her body.

"Don't say that." Tara turned away, feeling suddenly sensitive and vulnerable. The nakedness of her heart surpassed the nakedness of her body.

"Why?" Willow lifted herself up on one elbow. It was her turn to wonder what she'd said wrong.

"Because it's not true. You don't have to lie to me. I'm just a poor traveler."

"But I'm not lying," Willow said in the tone of a scolded child. "I don't have to lie. Whatever I say is gold." To prove this, she pulled out a golden leaflet from the side table drawer. "See? Gold." She handed the leaflet to Tara, who, took it and traced the engraved quotes with the tip of her fingers, fingers, she noted, that smelled distinctly of Willow's sweetness. Tara chuckled and handed the leaflet back.

"I'll have the heads add it officially to the list: Hear ye, hear ye! Tara Maclay is the most beautiful woman in all the land; and possibly throughout the provinces of heaven, as well." Willow grinned, love and laughter shining in her eyes.

"Stop." Tara laughed, rolling back towards Willow. And then the laughter ceased and she gazed seriously into Willow's deep green eyes. "I never imagined I'd meet anyone like you." She brushed a stray strand of Willow's hair away from her face, and smiled dimly when Willow curved her pretty lips into Tara's palm. "You're almost too lovely to look at. Kind of like looking into the sun; if you keep your eyes steadfast, you'll mar your vision," Tara said this with incredible warmth. And Willow's eyes were on her, watching her, and touching her with silk everywhere they landed.

"Why do you travel so?" Willow asked, stroking the outer side of Tara's rose colored nipple. She watched as the sensitive tissue grew taunt and beaded like a pebble.

"Because you can't see the world in your own backyard," Tara said dreamily. She'd caught Willow's fingers and brought them up to her lips. Willow's skin tasted warm and salty-sweet.

"Haven't you seen all the world yet?"

"Miles to go," Tara said wistfully, the light leaving her eyes muted as they basked in the low tones of post coital bliss. "But that is neither here nor there, darling," Tara said, suddenly rolling Willow forcefully beneath her so that she was on top of the princesses small-framed body, though she was still mindful of the princess's wound and made sure to keep her weight off the injury.

"But it will be," Willow said somberly. She wasn't quite ready to give in, even though Tara had begun a delicate sort of kissing down the side of her neck which was driving Willow to the point of madness.

"Not for a while," Tara said in between kisses.

"When?" Willow panted.

"After Festivities.”

And that was the end of the conversation. Tara kissed her way down Willow's body, with a few long stops in between, and when she took Willow with her tongue and fingers neither woman was thinking of anything beyond that very moment and the pleasure they both felt in each other's body.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For the next seven days they spent their time together in much the same way. During the day Tara would attend Festivities and in the evening she would go to Willow and they would hold each other or make love, or simply sleep peacefully next to each other. And toward the end of festivities the king had even begun allowing Willow to attend the parties for a few hours at a time, accompanied by Tara, of course.

Everyone was glad to see the princess recovering so smoothly, but no one more so than the king himself. And even he had to admit that Tara's company had done wonders for his daughter's complexion and overall happiness. In fact, seeing them together started him thinking on other matters. He hardly noticed that Tara was not of Royal standing, for she certainly carried herself well-- in fact if he didn’t know the truth he doubted he would peg her as anything less than a dignitary.

The king absolutely adored his daughter and he made a jolly fuss over her each and every night, so much so that Tara knew Willow was almost relieved when her time was up and she could kiss her father on the cheek and retire to her chambers. Tara made no argument of this either, because she knew that her time with Willow was drawing to a close, and that each moment was more precious than the last.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Festivities came and went like a newly fallen snow on a sunny day. The Great Tree had been lit, cheese and wine consumed, and that night, Willow awoke with a terrible feeling in her stomach. She knew that Tara had gone. And she lay there with emptiness inside of her until the sun lit the horizon and light flushed the stone walls in golden hues. She remained in her chambers for three days and three nights, sobbing into her pillow, missing Tara so much that it felt as if her heart had been carved from her chest. She had been right; the loss of Tara hurt more than the arrow ever had.

It started with a whisper or two and pretty soon the whole of the castle's residents had taken notice of the princess’s dire condition. Everything seemed to stop as maids and dignitaries alike fussed over her night and day, forcing her to eat when it was meal time, and to bathe when it was time for that as well. Willow did as she was told, but spoke to no one. Nothing mattered if she could not have Tara by her side. This grayness went on for the better part of four more days until one morning Willow got out of bed, trudged down the stone steps to the marble hall and ordered a coat, hat, and gloves from the door matron.

"Where are you going, daughter?" the king wrung his hands in distress. He'd never seen his daughter look so determined and it gave him cause to worry. In fact he'd been worried since the huntress had left nigh upon eight days before. He knew that she and his daughter had become close friends, but the extent of which hadn't become clear to him until after the huntress had gone. It was obvious to him now that his daughter had fallen in love. But love made people do crazy things, and this was what worried the king.

"I'm going to find Tara and bring her back."

"You can't go out there alone," the king pleaded, momentarily forgetting that he had the power to forbid her go. Or maybe something inside him knew that even if he forbade her it wouldn't stop her.

"I'm going." There was no arguing with her. She was not going to lose Tara; if the blonde wanted to be poor and hunt dragons then Willow would be poor and hunt dragons with her. And she didn’t care what her father had to say about it. King or no king, she could not live without Tara by her side.

"Then I'll lead the way," The king said in a definite voice. For he had already, a few days past, had his Page discover the location of the tracker's lodging. She was staying in a cave beneath the mountain, many miles from the castle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The wind was howling outside the gates of the castle. The king took a step and his Page behind him, the girth of their bodies shielded the princess from the more harsh flurries that blew past them. Behind them, keeping pace at a distance was the king’s army.

They marched like that for many miles, until it seemed nearly hopeless that they would ever find Tara. The snow had surely covered any tracks she may have made on her journey as it was quickly covering the tracks made by the king, his men, the princess, and the page. It was becoming clear to everyone but the king himself, that it would be impossible to find her in this blizzard. And it was only when the princess could go no further that the king conceded defeat.

Willow felt a hollow sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach and a desolate numbness, which had nothing to do with the cold, took over her, freezing her from the inside out. She was certain Tara was gone, and she may never see her again. Willow stopped walking and began to cry.

The king scooped his daughter into his arms and together the search party headed back toward the castle.

Willow was downtrodden and her heart thudded like a lead stone in her chest. She would never love again, she thought dramatically as she headed back to the solitude of her bed chambers. But what greeted her when she opened the door caused her heart to skip a beat. Standing in a lean next to the fireplace with a glass of brandy in one hand and her booted-up feet crossed in front of her was Tara.

Willow was overcome for a moment and there was so much she wanted to say--so many words, but the only to surface was what had hurt her the most. "You didn't even say goodbye." Tears welled in Willow's eyes, causing them to sting. Relief at seeing the blonde again was quickly replaced by hurt and then by anger. How dare Tara leave her in the manner she had. But then Tara came to her and took her in her arms and the relief that had fled moments before circled around again, and Willow melted into Tara's embrace. Tears spilled onto Tara's linen shirt.

"I didn't think I could. It hurt too much." Tara nuzzled into Willow's red hair, smelling the scent of lily and frost. She could feel Willow's frail body shudder against her and was instantly overcome with the shame of her actions. She needed to explain to Willow; offer the woman in her arms some explanation, so she said the only words in her heart. "Maybe I was searching for something I didn't even know existed before this moment. All this time, maybe I was searching for you," Tara said breathlessly. She was so incredibly happy to have Willow back in her arms again. She felt as if she'd come home.

"So you're not leaving again?"

"Not if you'll have me. Will you? Have me? Before you answer, Princess, keep in mind that I have nothing in this world to offer you but my love and life."

"I have nothing but the same, m’Lady, for all this…" Willow waved her hand about the room "…belongs to my father. I have never earned anything; therefore I am as hapless as you." Willow grinned, realizing her joy at that very thought.

"Touché," Tara said softly, leaning with more intent into Willow's body.

They kissed passionately, and hours later, after much reuniting, Princess Willow and Lady Tara stood before the king, clinging to each other with one sole request at hand. They wished to be married.

The king was taken by their plea, "I will allow this marriage to take place only if it is agreed that I will be provided with an heir to the throne. You may go about that any way you choose."

The king was using his stern king's voice, but Willow could detect the benevolence beneath his words and she could tell that he was just as grateful to see Tara again as she herself had been.

"I believe I can help with that." The magician stepped forward, coughing at the confused faces leering at him; obviously he hadn't meant help, help. But there were potions. "I mean, there are potions one could take! I could help with the potions!"

The king laughed heartily. "Then let the ceremony begin!"

As Princess Willow and her heroine, exchanged vows, a silence fell over the onlookers, for no one in King’s Court had ever seen such a display of pure love as they witnessed that day.

However there was one vow that the onlookers were not privy too: It was something private between Tara and her princess and was whispered softly into Willow's ear

"Someday you'll ride a wild mustang across the countryside of King’s Court, and I'll be at your side to make sure you don't fall."

"Promise me."

"I vow it."

At the end of the ceremony as the king, his page and the newly married couple lead the procession out of the ballroom there was heard a singing by the country men that had filed outside in the castle garden, for they had heard of the king’s good deed and of the newly married couple and wished to offer blessings upon the Princess and her bride.

The king was pleased by this display, and invited the poor peasants into the great hall for a feast of meat and wine. And as the king looked about on all his many blessings the song of his own father came to his mind. And he knew it to be true.

Therefore, Christian men, be sure
Wealth or rank possessing
Ye who now will bless the poor
Shall yourselves find blessing


There was never a more celebrated king in all of King's Court as our own Good King Wenceslas.

The End.

[center]Image[/center]
[br]

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Last edited by Emms on Fri Dec 15, 2006 6:23 am, edited 4 times in total.

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 Post subject: Re: RKT presents "Sing A Song of Christmas"
PostPosted: Fri Dec 15, 2006 5:45 am 
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Thanks everyone :blush I wouldn't be at all surprised if there were more She-Ra stories sometime in the new year - besides the overall arc I worked out when I did the first one, I've got a few neat ideas for one-off episodes too. And it's getting easier to do the cartoon images - for the first story I got into a groove doing them, but it was always a bit of a struggle to get them to turn out the way I wanted. This time round, after a bit of trouble initially (my first try at the first Willow and Tara pic had a very odd-looking Willow), I seemed to get the hang of it, at least to my satisfaction.

To tide you all over until I get around to another one (plus, I have to update Princess Tara and Smut Bunnies and Space Quest before I start anything else new), here's a couple of test pics I did of new characters to be introduced in future stories, to see what they and their costumes would look like. They're both based on existing She-Ra characters, and Buffy actors, so have fun guessing who's who :)
Pic #1
Pic #2

Alex: Thanks :D I've been watching She-Ra a lot since the Best Of set finally turned up here - the movie of course, but I also love watching Sweet Bee's Home, with Frosta being hilarious throwing herself all over He-Man, and going into a jealous snit whenever anyone else talks to him :lol I haven't yet bought the S1V1 set - it hasn't yet been released here, and though the DVD player here is omniregional my PC isn't, and I'd like to have a set I can watch up here in my study, as well as pull images off if need be.

It was a bit of a switch to have just Willow and Tara this time, and be leaving the rest of the cast behind, but aside from practical considerations - they could hardly take everyone to the arctic circle, and leave Whispering Woods without any rebels - I thought it'd be better, for this shorter story, to have fewer characters. And it proved useful too in letting Willow and Tara, together and individually, have to work without anyone to back them up, and rely only on their own smarts and abilities.

Frosta was indeed Anya - Justin got to see the initial outline where I mentioned that, and I did briefly flirt with the idea of calling her Anya, and having 'Frosta' be a royal title she held. In the end though, I decided that while she was Anyaesque enough to pass, it wasn't necessary that she be anyone other than Frosta in the story. If she meets Xander in a future story, the Anya side to her will no doubt be more apparent ;-) I did use Emma Caulfield as the model for her face, but unsurprisingly the faces aren't especially recognisable once I'm through 'animating' them. Have fun guessing at the above two images.

As you note, Tara's past with the Horde was something I wanted to get into from the beginning, in the WTTV fic, and continuing here. It's never truly addressed in the TV show - fair enough, seeing as it's a fairly dark topic - but the R rating freed me up to explore it further (as well as just doing random icky stuff like the Horde cyborg security monitor).

Loo-Kee doesn't annoy me, mostly because he's absent for the whole episode until the very end, unlike Orko. Plus I have a soft spot for Dawn, so the combination works for me. If I recall though, I think the idea of Dawn as the moral-of-the-story girl came out of Dawn the fanfic author in U_O's Don't fear the Reaper - not directly, but Dawn in the early chapters of Reaper kind of inspired Loo-Kee Dawn.

Vale: Thanks :)

justin: Thank you. Yay for spotting Dawnie - funny thing, I don't know whether it's just the quality difference between TV and DVD (or maybe that I'm watching the DVDs on a bigger screen), but I found Loo-Kee first try on all the episodes in the Best Of set. I had fun with butch Willow, and I liked the opportunity to show that she's tough even without her magic to back her up - I think in part that comes from her 'forest sorceress' side though, even though she's young, there's a part of her that's picked up the ancient, resilient quality of the forest.

The big She-Ra battle was fun to do - and also useful, in showing that She-Ra isn't a one-woman army-killing machine, and that she can be defeated. The first story let her have things all her way, between the element of surprise and the close terrain, but it kind of left the question 'Why doesn't She-Ra just walk into the Fright Zone and smash the whole place to bits?' I also wanted to get into Tara's guilt, and the idea that even though intellectually she's come to grips with how she wasn't responsible, she still feels she is, and in a situation like this Frosta's venom made her feel that she had to take a big risk to set things right, and made her bite off more than she could chew.

Dianneswillowtree: Thank you :)

Anne: Thanks. It is a bit tough to write the battle scenes, and to keep them interesting - there's only so many ways to say 'She-Ra beat up the Horde troopers' before it gets dull. I find the best way to approach it is to think in terms of unique set pieces, and not repeat them - things like She-Ra attacking the Horde aircraft help spice scenes like that up and keep them from getting repetetive.

I know exactly what you mean about the lack of a white Christmas - I've never seen one myself, though I've seen snow a few times. Setting the story in Etheria limited how 'Christmassy' it could be, seeing as the He-Man and She-Ra Christmas Special showed that neither Etheria nor Eternia (He-Man's home) have Christmas. As in most fantasy or pre-Christian stories, 'solstice' serves as a useful catch-all Christmas-clone.

db: Thanks. Noticed the sword, huh? :blush I don't know why this one is making you giggle, when the sword divider for Space Quest really is a vibrator with a blade... there's no getting away from it though, She-Ra and her sword are way too closely linked for me to replace it with some other weapon, so I figured I might as well just go for it and live with the innuendo. As for She-Ra characters, Tara shares the background of Adora (She-Ra's 'normal' form) as a former Horde captain. Willow is kind of like Madame Razz, though she's much more distant from the original character - Madame was far more comedic, and her magic was of the usual random-waving-hands-and-making-stuff-happen kind, rather than specifically forest magic. In the original She-Ra fic back in WTTV, Buffy, for instance, was much closer to her She-Ra character (Glimmer) than Willow is to hers.

Elvis: Thanks. Yeah, the dorky messages are great - don't play with fire, finish your homework, tell someone if you're being bullied, all the classic generic message-to-kids ones. Although the makers of She-Ra deserve a lot of credit for sometimes being bolder than today's cartoons would likely dare - at the end of one episode, He-Man and She-Ra (rather than the usual comic relief character) delivered a message to kids about how no-one should touch their body in a way they thought was bad, and if it happened they should tell someone they trust. According to a letter the studio received, that segment got at least one child to tell her mother she was being abused, and thus brought a stop to it - not bad for a saturday morning cartoon :peace

But yeah, normally the messages were incredibly goofy, and I admit I had fun coming up with that one. I'm glad you liked the story behind the action too - I wasn't sure how strongly the ideas I had were going to come across, but it looks like they did okay.

Taralicious: Thanks. Yep, the cast of She-Ra had some really great thighs among them :blush I confess, seeing as Tara's pantslessness never got featured much in the pics for the first She-Ra story from WTTV, I decided this time there'd be a couple of pics where she got to show off her legs in her regular costume ;-)

Emms: Thanks. I have a great time doing the cartoon images (even with all the mucking up and starting over involved in it), it's one of my favourite parts of writing this story, as opposed to others. No wonder it crossed over into Space Quest briefly :blush (Edited to add: and I see you just posted your fic while I was typing these replies up - yay, something cool to read tonight!)

watty-boss: Thank you. Willow being able to stand on her own, sans magic (more or less) was a neat thing to be able to do. I agree that Tara's guilt over her past won't be got rid of so quickly - maybe it never will, but we all have to learn to live with bad stuff, one way or another. In the case of this story though, even though there is an arc within it, I still kept in mind that it was part of a (possibly) larger series, so I didn't feel that everything had to really be resolved by the end, except in the immediate sense. The arctic mine was in fact Moonbase Alpha from one of my favourite (goofy) sci-fi shows, Space 1999. That Dawnie pic that Leah did was actually one of a few she did for the WTTV She-Ra story, that unfortunately came in just a touch too late to colour and have ready to post with the story, so I was very pleased to be able to finally use it. She also did a couple of Faith, so next time she shows up in a She-Ra story, it'll be worth checking out :blush

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Through the Looking-glass - Every world needs a Willow and Tara.


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 Post subject: Re: RKT presents "Sing A Song of Christmas"
PostPosted: Fri Dec 15, 2006 7:25 am 
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21. Geek Infested Roots
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DIBS! (For Emmy's story)

ETA: Wow, Emmy. I'm in love with this fic. I've always enjoyed your work, but being lazy, I've never left any feedback for them (well, I did for "Winter Harvest", but that was only because it was a collaboration fic. I never left any for "Catching Sunflowers" or "You Make Me Smile." I'm bad, I know.)

This story, however, is the best you've done yet. I mean, I'm a sucker for fairy tales (I love "The Little Mermaid" and "Beauty and the Beast", and I've always had plans to translate them into W/T fics. I kinda did "Mermaid" with "Under the Sea", and I was going to do "Beauty and the Beast" before the idea for "Moonlight Densetsu" came up.), and so I was able to really enjoy this story in that sense. And I think it's wonderful how you brought them together, if a little cliche. (I kinda did it the same way, too, so I should know.)

And I found it impressive that you would have Willow say that being apart from Tara would be more painful than actually dying. It just goes to show you us how important Tara became to her, not just in the sense that "she saved me from dying" way, but in the "Have something that's just...mine way" , especially when you consider the fact that they had a brief amount of time to know one another.

Kudos to you, Emmy. :peace

And now, to respond to Chris:

Quote:
Have fun guessing at the above two images.


Oh, I did. Castaspella (dumbest name ever, BTW) is Jenny and Scorpia is Drusilla (?).

Quote:
db: Thanks. Noticed the sword, huh? :blush I don't know why this one is making you giggle, when the sword divider for Space Quest really is a vibrator with a blade... there's no getting away from it though, She-Ra and her sword are way too closely linked for me to replace it with some other weapon, so I figured I might as well just go for it and live with the innuendo.


Maybe. Then again, maybe it reminded db of the two fics that were inspired by, and sorta continued from, the commercial you did for WTTV, one of which saw Tara use the sword in...erm, that way. :blush

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The Star Witches Saga | Under the Sea | The Moonlight Densetsu Chronicles | Going the Distance | Slippery When Wet | Short Fics by Sith


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 Post subject: Re: RKT presents "Sing A Song of Christmas"
PostPosted: Fri Dec 15, 2006 5:08 pm 
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Ms. Moderator Fantastico
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second Dibs Emms as always I am in the palm of your hands such a sweet story and tha age old meaning love knows no boundres and I love willow as royalty and Tara as the hero !!!!! :wtkiss


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 Post subject: Re: RKT presents "Sing A Song of Christmas"
PostPosted: Fri Dec 15, 2006 6:46 pm 
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Oh Emms-y.

*deep breath*

I lurve it. I love love lurve love lurvy-love it! Willow is so lovely and sweet and good and yearning for love and freedom and Tara is brave and virtuous... and beautiful and and they save each other -- Tara saves Willow, quite literally, and Willow saves Tara from I dunno an endless search for something that fills her heart? a-and they both save each other from a life of lonliness and they find *love* , plus which Tara is *so* going to slay dragons for her flame haired princess (i just know it) and with her lovely bride, Willow is going to get to ride a wild mustang and and and Tara is right, Willow *is* the Sunset and they are In Love and... *sigh* the making love scenes are perfectly done -- all passionate without too much detail... and I dunno, I am beginning to think that I just might have a wee bit of a romantic in me that your stories just *sing* to. Thank you and...

*deep breath*

...have I mentioned that I lurve it?

db

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 Post subject: Re: RKT presents "Sing A Song of Christmas"
PostPosted: Fri Dec 15, 2006 7:52 pm 
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As usual Ms. Emms...you rock...I think that covers it :wtkiss


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 Post subject: Re: RKT presents "Sing A Song of Christmas"
PostPosted: Sat Dec 16, 2006 2:58 pm 
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Emms
That was a sweet, romantic Christmas story. I love happy endings, thank you.

Anne

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 Post subject: Re: RKT presents "Sing A Song of Christmas"
PostPosted: Sun Dec 17, 2006 11:54 am 
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A few replies and then feedback to Emms' story

Spells42: Thanks. I'm glad you liked the fic.

Sallymcfine: Thanks

Quote:
And so, so sweet that they decided to start a family together! Very well done.


I have to admit that scene was added at the last minute. Origionally the story ended with Tara saying it seemed like destiny, I think this ended rounded it off a lot better.


Kaia: Thanks. I'm glad you enjoyed it, and again the comparison to an episode made me :D

WattyBoss:

Quote:
I think you're trying to flit between the scenes and timelines in a way that is deliberately disorientating, right?


Definitely, I wanted the readers to be in the same boat as Willow and Tara.

Thanks. It's cool that the story kept you on your toes.

===========

Emms: That was a brilliant story. The part with Willow being shot was rather worrying, especially when it mentioned her taking her last breath. I mean I was sure she'd survive, but there was still some doubt.

I liked how you described Willow and Tara drawing closer. Also I was :lol at the magician getting dirty looks when he said he could help Willow have a child.

I have one question, did Tara ever catch that dragon?

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 Post subject: Re: RKT presents "Sing A Song of Christmas"
PostPosted: Mon Dec 18, 2006 8:01 am 
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Emms, that was so sweet. I love how you straddled the divide between fairy tales and 'real' tales, with this story that seemed to be in both worlds at once - fairy tale elements like the good king, the joyful feasting, princesses and adventurers, and picture-perfect moments like Tara being there waiting for Willow at the end - and on the other hand, assassins (and his grisly fate when caught) and the self-embarrassed magician, and the political necessity to have an heir (just as well there was a workaround to that problem). Tara's peace spell was especially poignant, being magical and kind of heartwarming, but sombre at the same time.

I've noticed you're often quite sparing with dialogue - in many scenes, rather than simply write out conversations to advance the plot, you have characters speak only when it's most important, and convey a lot with looks and gesutures and silences between characters as much as words. And there's something in the way you skip from scene to scene that's kind of like using negative space in art - like having blank areas in a picture be important to the feel of it, the way you have a lot of the progress of the story covered by to-the-point exposition interspersed with short scenes manages to create the feel of a larger story, without needing to actually write it. It's kind of zen ;-)

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 Post subject: Re: RKT presents "Sing A Song of Christmas"
PostPosted: Mon Dec 18, 2006 9:38 am 
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Emms - I've read your story three times now. I read the rough draft although, I'm sorry to say that I didn't have time to give proper feedback at the time. I relied on Justin for that. Then I've read it twice here. I love it. I would say that it's probably my favorite piece of writing you've ever done. You captured the very feeling of Willow's being trapped and the cold and Tara the adventureness. And your smut is hardly that. The words are so inexact - not like a biology lecture - and yet so detailed and loving. It was all wonderful to read.

Thanks for the great story.

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 Post subject: Re: RKT presents "Sing A Song of Christmas"
PostPosted: Mon Dec 18, 2006 4:37 pm 
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[br][br][center]Image[/center]
[br]



[center]By

DarkWiccan[/center]

Disclaimers: Willow and Tara and other characters borrowed from the television show “Buffy: The Vampire Slayer” are the property of their creator, Joss Whedon, and his affiliates, Mutant Enemy, Fox, and UPN. Also, even though W/T and the Sunnydale characters don't belong to me, this story does and so do any new characters I have created. Please don't plagiarize.
Distribution: Through the Looking Glass, The Kitten Board, Shadows and Light, and anyone who asks politely.
Spoilers: None
Feedback: Yes, please. But I have a Fire Extinguisher to put out all flames.
Pairing: Willow/Tara
Rating: PG

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The snow fell in quick, bunching clusters carried on a brisk, darting wind. Willow Rosenberg unconsciously tugged her green flannel robe more tightly around her slender body as she glanced out the window of her single-story Craftsman home. The weather was quickly becoming inclement, something not uncommon in Oswego during the mid-winter months. Still, Willow preferred the blustery winters of upstate New York to the bitter, biting cold of her parents vacation home, a modest cabin on an acre of modest land, in central Montana.

Of course, she had been invited to join them, but this year she just couldn’t bring herself to leave already cold weather for intolerably cold weather just for the sake of lighting the menorah. Willow sighed inwardly, why couldn’t she have normal parents? Ones who had a vacation home in Florida, and not No Man’s Land, MT: population three freezing Jews. Well, only two freezing Jews this year, she thought to herself. She chuckled as the first line of father’s old joke flickered across her mind, “What do you call a frozen Jew?”

“An Oy-sicle”, she said aloud, and couldn’t help but snicker.

Walking away from the window, she crossed the cozy living room, complete with a lively fire in the fireplace, and turned on her circa 1950’s radio with a deft flip of her wrist. The genial voice of the on-air talent snapped and crackled and finally came into tune, filling the room with the latest weather report.

“….sidents of the following counties are under a severe storm warning until 2 ‘o’ clock tomorrow morning, thanks to the blizzard that is definitely, that’s right folks, definitely, on its way, so if I mention your county name, please don’t make any plans to do any traveling tonight. And if you’ve made traveling plans, break them. Okay, the counties under a severe storm warning are: Otsego, Madison, Onondaga, Oneida, and Oswego. This warning is in effect until 2 a.m. tomorrow. So please, if you’re inside, stay there and if you’re outside, get inside. Again, the counties are: Otsego, Madis--”

Willow switched the radio off again. The report had been nothing new. The local meteorologists had been forecasting the storm for the past couple of days, and Willow was well-prepared for any snow-driven calamity that might occur. She padded to the kitchen in her gray, kitty-shaped slippers and set a kettle on the gas range to boil.

Glancing up at the digital display of her microwave oven she noted the time: 9:03pm.

A fierce and undeniable yawn gripped her face, and she had no choice but to let it out.

“No, no, none of that,” she said to herself, “it’s too early for that.” She shook her head, trying to clear away the urge to curl up and sleep. Tucking an errant strand of her red hair away from her face, Willow crossed away from the stove and to the cabinets next to the sink; opening the first door she pulled out a mug and set it on the counter top.

She had to admit to herself that the reason she was so tired was because there was nothing remotely interesting happening, despite the storm. All of her books had been read, and re-read; all of her videos watched, and re-watched. The only thing showing on television was the 67th re-play of “A Christmas Story” on CBS, or the 208th re-play of “It’s A Wonderful Life” on ABC, and if Willow wanted something to view that was even vaguely Jew-centric, the only option was to tune into the wildly depressing 29th re-play of “Schindler’s List” on Fox.

Stupid Fox, she thought to herself and sniffed her nose indignantly.

Gripping the handle of a nearby cabinet, she tugged it open and reached for the box of Swiss Miss cocoa mix resting inside.

“I wish I had someone to talk to,” she sighed.

Instantly, there came an urgent knocking at the front door.

Willow froze. “I wish I had a million dollars,” she said, looking about the room hopefully. Nothing. “Just checking.”

The rapping at the home’s entrance re-asserted itself.

Willow peered out the kitchen door, and down the hallway to the front. The knocking continued.

“Alright,” she stated in a voice she hoped was loud enough for her visitor to hear. “I’m coming, I’m coming.”

She scurried across the wooden floor and checked through the door’s peephole, making out a figure bundled tightly in winter coat and scarf, their face barely visible.

“Who is it?”

“My car broke down,” came the muffled reply; a clearly feminine voice. “I’m sorry to bother you, but yours was the only house with a porch light still on. Please, can I use your phone to call for a tow?”

“Oh, sure!” Willow replied, quickly undoing the latch and bolt and opening her door.

A frigid rush of cold, windy air flew in, followed swiftly by the bundled traveler. Willow rammed the door closed, not wanting anymore of the outside to come in.

“Thank you”, said the coat and scarf, respectively, for Willow still could not make out their owner’s face.

“Don’t mention it,” the redhead shrugged, “the phone’s right down the hall, in the kitchen.”

Two mittened hands rose to the hood of the winter coat and pulled it off the traveler’s head, revealing long blond hair, rosy-apple cheeks, and bluest pair of eyes Willow had ever seen. The mittens then moved to the scarf, tugging it down to show a wide and gentle smile.

“Thanks,” the blonde said gratefully, “You’re a real lifesaver! It’s freezing out there, eh?”

Willow nodded, “There’s been a blizzard on the forecast for the past couple of days, I guess it finally decided to show up.”

“A blizzard, eh?” echoed the girl. “Well, that’s no good.”

“Let me guess, trying to get back to Canada?”

“Yeah, I know the accent’s pretty thick,” she laughed good-naturedly, “no matter how hard I try I can’t seem to drop the damn ‘eh’s’.”

Willow started to giggle, but quickly tried to stifle it, not wanting to appear a goof.

“I’m Tara, by the way,” the stranger stated, extending her hand.

“Willow,” the resident replied, taking the offered mitten in a gentle shake. “I was just making some hot cocoa. Would you like some? Help you warm up while you wait.”

“That’d be great, thanks!”

Willow pointed the way to the kitchen and Tara moved down the hall ahead of her.

As they entered the room, Willow pointed to the phone hanging on the wall by the fridge. Tara turned toward it, and found herself suitably impressed. “Wow”, she said, “that’s some phone there.” It was a mint-condition, circa 1940’s Gray Company payphone, complete with rotary dial and three-slot coin drop on top.

Willow smiled as she reached into the cabinet for another mug. “Thanks, it’s one of my favorites.”

Tara grinned and lifted the handset to her ear as her other hand rose to dial the rotary, and hesitated. She looked to her hostess. “Ok, how much do I need?”

Willow paused, confused. “Um, for what?”

“Nickel, dime, quarter,” Tara went on, “how much does it cost?”

“Huh?”

“The phone, how much does it cost to use?”

“Oh,” replied Willow, catching on, “it doesn’t. The coin system has been bypassed. Just dial away.”

“Well,” said Tara, “I’d like to, but I can’t seem to get a dial tone.”

“What?” Willow crossed hastily over to her visitor’s side and gently took the handset from her hand. Lifting it to her own ear, she listened a moment, tapped the disconnect lever in the cradle a few times unsuccessfully, and finally hung up. “Well”, she sighed, “it looks like the phones are out. Must be the storm.”

“Maybe just the landlines are down,” offered Tara, “do you have a cell phone? I’d use mine but the battery died a while back down the road.”

Willow blushed. “I don’t have a cell phone. I guess you could say I sort of have classic tastes.”

For the first time, Tara really began to take in her surroundings. She glanced around the kitchen and then back down the hall. Indeed, the entire home appeared be furnished with mid-20th century pieces. Though she was certainly no connoisseur, she made the educated guess that, save for a few household items here and there (like the microwave), nothing in the home was from after the late 1950’s, or early 1960’s.

“Hm,” the blonde vocalized. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to wait things out; if that’s ok with you.”

“Oh, yeah, sure! It’s awful out there; and it’s certainly no trouble.” Internally, Willow’s heart did a little flip of joy. She was going to have company, perhaps for several hours, and this company certainly was a sight for sore eyes. “Can I get you anything? Besides the cocoa, I mean.”

“Oh, no.” said Tara, “You’ve already been so nice. I just wish I had a way to let my family know I’m stuck stateside.”

Willow looked thoughtful for a moment. “We could always use my telegraph machine.”

Tara raised an eyebrow.

“I’m kidding,” the redhead relented, eliciting a chuckle from them both. “Not only don’t I have one, we’d still need the phone lines to be working.” The Canadian merely nodded. A moment of awkward silence passed. “So, um,” said Willow, finally, “can I take your coat?”

“Yeah, sure,” said Tara, removing the garment, “It was starting to get a little warm, eh? Where should I put it?”

“Here, let me,” said Willow, taking it, “I’ll just hang it up in the hall closet.”

She disappeared from the kitchen and back toward the front door. Tara followed after a moment, hesitating in the living room, where she stood, and waited politely for her hostess to return.

“Oh, hi,” Willow announced on her return, noting her guest’s new location. “Please, have a seat. Get comfortable.”

“Thanks.”

Tara gracefully sat down on one end of the sofa, whereas Willow plunked herself down on the other. They sat in companionable silence for a moment. This time it was Tara who initiated the conversation.

“How long have you been living here?”

“Here in Oswego, or here in this house?”

“Both, I guess,” Tara replied.

Willow hunkered down into her throw pillows and began to relate an abbreviated version of her life story. Born and raised in Altoona, PA, college at Syracuse U., (major in Architecture, minor in Art History), she had taken a position with an architectural firm in Oswego directly out of school and had been there ever since. Yes, she lived alone; no, it hadn’t always been that way. Her last relationship had ended abruptly when her partner of three years spontaneously decided that they weren’t worth pursuing anymore. This of course led to the inevitable question to which Willow predictably answered, “yes, I’m gay.”

Willow was delighted to hear Tara’s less than predictable, “me too”, in response.

“So what about you?” asked Willow, “What brings you this side of the border?”

“I was visiting friends. Or, I should say ‘family’, but not blood relations. The ‘we are family’ kind.”

“I getcha,” said Willow. “Out of curiosity, might I ask whom? I mean, you know how all we gay people know each other, and all.”

Tara chuckled, “Oh yes, of course we do. It’s, as you know, part of our cunning plan of world domination through the conversion of straights.”

“Obviously,” answered the redhead, aggressively trying not to laugh. “Have you earned your toaster oven yet?”

“Sadly, no,” sighed Tara, “I’m several short. I had the opportunity to go above quota in college, but passed those up, preferring to wallow in quiet self-loathing and fear of inadequacy.”

“Ah, I miss those days,” Willow noted mock-wistfully.

“Don’t we all,” the blonde answered dramatically, pretending to wipe a tear from her eye.

They finally let their facades drop and genuine laughter burst forth from their lungs.

“Seriously, though,” Tara continued, “my friends and I just got back from a Bahaman cruise. They live in Lafayette over in Onondaga County, so we flew out of Syracuse Airport to the City, and boarded our ship there.”

“Impressive,” said Willow, “and who did you go with?”

“My ex-girlfriend, her girlfriend, her girlfriend’s ex-girlfriend and her new girlfriend.”

“Because that’s how lesbians travel,” the redhead replied, easily following.

“Naturally.”

They laughed some more, finding themselves more and more at ease in each other’s company.

“So, what’s your ex-girlfriend’s name?” Willow asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

Tara bit her lip dubiously, “Uh, I can’t tell you.”

The redhead’s eyebrows crinkled. “Oh…kay… that’s kind of… why not?”

“Well, she’s sort of a minor public figure. She could lose her… well, she works for a church.”

“Here in Oswego?”

“No, over in Lafayette.”

“That’s miles away. Besides, I’m Jewish. Mostly non-practicing, but still, not the type to show up in random halls of Christian worship to out prominent members. In fact, I don’t think there are any Jews who do that. We have enough guilt in our culture as it is.”

The blonde laughed lightly. “Yes, I know, I’m being silly. It’s force of habit. You’re right, you’re right. Anyway, her name is Grace, and she’s the minister of the Presbyterian Church there.”

Willow pretended to check her memory banks. “Nope, never heard of her. Hey, I thought that the Presbyterians were ok with gays.”

“Actually, you’re probably thinking of the Episcopalians. Either that or the Metropolitan Church.” Tara gazed off into the fireplace, and the flames that leapt off the log sheltered inside. “That’s why we broke up. Her church. Or, I should say, her need to stay in the closet as a result of her church. When you’re a minister, you don’t get a day off. Anywhere you’re seen in public, you’re under the scrutiny of your parishioners. Whether you’re mowing the lawn or going to the market for bread. I mean, it was fine when she’d visit me in Canada; but it was awful when I’d come down here. Here I was just her ‘good pal Tara,’ eh? I wanted to hold hands, and kiss and cuddle in the park; put my arm around her in the movies; share a sundae with her at the Friendly’s. But we couldn’t, so we didn’t, and we just grew apart. That’s the way it goes sometimes, I guess, eh?”

Willow merely nodded. They sat staring into the fire for awhile.

The jarring sound of the phone ringing knocked them out of their thoughts.

“Phone’s working,” Willow stated needlessly, then leapt from her seat and ran to the kitchen to answer.

Tara listened to the muffled one-sided conversation of her hostess in the other room.

“Hello?.... Oh, hi mom…. No, yes, I’m fine…. No,… no…no the phones were out for a little while, that’s all…. No, the power has been fine….uh-huh… yes…yes I got the package… and the note…. Thanks for the scarf…. Yes, I really like it…. yes, I really do… mom, please, stop fishing for compliments…yes, it goes well with my jacket…no…no, I haven’t… because the note said not to!... I can keep some traditions, mom…I’ll open the next gift tomorrow night… yes, I lit the menorah… mom… moooom…. Ok… alright… did you like what I got you?... how about dad?... good….good, I’m glad… are you staying warm enough?... yes, I am too… well, I’d better go… because I have company… a friend… just a friend… you haven’t met her…mom…. Mom, seriously, I have to go. Ok… ok… I love you too… dad too… Happy Hanukkah… love you, bye.”

Willow wandered slowly back into the living room, only to find Tara gazing at her from over the back of the couch, a small smirk of amusement on her face.

“My mom,” Willow stated.

“I gathered.”

The redhead rang her hands a little. “Yeah, so, the phone is working, if you wanted to call for the tow. Not that you have too” she followed swiftly, “in fact, you don’t have to. In fact, you’re more than welcome to stay the night if you want; on the couch or something. The roads are probably all snowed over anyway… and, it’s so cold outside.”

Tara shrugged, “Still, I should probably--”

“Try in the morning!” Willow cut in. She just didn’t want to her new friend to leave. Not when they both had so much in common. Not when they had so many possibilities. “Because, it’s really late, and like I said, cold, and snowy, and there was a storm warning on the radio before you arrived saying that it won’t be safe to travel tonight. And, again, it’s so cold outside.”

“Right, but--”

“It’s been ages since I’ve had any company, and I’m really enjoying yours, and you seem to be enjoying mine. At least, I hope you are. Maybe you’re just being polite, which I guess is fine, and understandable, considering we’ve only just met; but what are the odds of you showing up on my doorstep? I mean, honestly, one lesbian to another, it is rather coincidental, don’t you think? And besides it is so warm in here and so--”

“Cold outside?” Tara finished, eyebrow cocked.

“Right.” Willow finally exhaled, and stood fidgeting in the doorway.

Tara rose to her feet and regarded her new friend with an indecipherable gaze. “Willow, you’ve been very kind. And it was super good luck that I knocked on your door. But, I really, really need to use your phone.”

Willow’s eyes dropped to the floor, followed by her heart landing firmly in her stomach. “Yes, you’re right. I guess you should call--”

“My family? They’ll be worried, eh? If I don’t show up tonight? They’ll think something bad happened.”

“Oh.” Said Willow. “Oh!” she said again, this time more brightly. “Right! Your family! Duh. Yeah, sure, go right ahead.”

“Thank you.” Tara smiled a lovely little half-smile, and breezed past the redhead down the hall and into the kitchen.

“Say, did I mention I really enjoy holding hands in the park?” Willow mentioned casually as she followed behind her guest.

Outside, the weather worsened, the snow sheeting down in a blanket of white. Brave civil servants finished setting up road blocks on the now dangerous thoroughfares, before retreating to the safety of their offices and homes. Families huddled together in small houses, some around fireplaces, some in shared beds, all seeking the warmth and comfort of each other; and in one small craftsman home, in the city of Oswego, two new friends conversed well into the night, getting to know each other, and embracing the possibilities of staying in from the cold outside.

End.

[br]
[center]Image[/center]
[br]

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 Post subject: Re: RKT presents "Sing A Song of Christmas"
PostPosted: Mon Dec 18, 2006 4:38 pm 
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21. Geek Infested Roots
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DIBS!

ETA: Very well done story, DW. Simple, yet heartfelt. I applaud you. :)

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Last edited by SithLordWiccan on Mon Dec 18, 2006 6:37 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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 Post subject: Re: RKT presents "Sing A Song of Christmas"
PostPosted: Mon Dec 18, 2006 5:04 pm 
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I hereby pronounce all these stories to be precious! Thanks to all you wonderful RKT authors for sharing such wonderful, wonderful holiday tales with us. *basks in the warm pseudo-fire of W/T love*


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