Chapter Text
She hears her heartbeat first; slow and rhythmic, too calm to be normal in the current conditions, and then a haunted sigh. She straightens up, just in that moment noticing the position her body has assumed for herself, curled in on itself, her fingers and lips stained red. She wanted to paint her nails, she remembers; but there was no more time left for trifles like that and the red streaking her skin didn't bring any warmth, just the icy cold of uncertainty, the fear of death resting beside her.
Though she doesn't remember exactly what happened - how she managed to get in thet position - inside is cold and icy and calm, almost as if she were dead, and she pauses questioningly, head cocked, waiting.
It comes again, a beautiful noise, voice crumbling and breaking, and she lets her blue eyes close, letting it fill her. A hum vibrates through her body, and she opens her eyes as she turns her gaze upwards, smirking. The sky that awaits her is almost as if it represents what rages inside her, a gray and ugly mess, morbid and sad; brings a sigh and a smile to her lips.
“Well, I think it fits.” She laughs, says softly, sweetly. Her right hand glides over her wings carefully, almost as it longing; smoothing the smooth surface, the blue shining like the night, her eyes flicker over it and her lips part, smiling at the beauty she beholds. “Now where are you?”
Her smile widens gently at the prospect of meeting him, and Bloom slowly licks her lips, tasting the blood there and sighing before she pulls away; it doesn't taste good, despite what some people might be apt to claim; but power is power, life is life, and her blood sings like fire and she will do what it takes to live, survive. Forcing herself to her feet, she extends one leg until her bare toes make contact with the icy surface of the floor, and she purses her lips at the sting in her skin, curls her toes until her skin feels raw, until it gets used to the cold, and breathes in.
She walks barefoot through hell - at least that's what she thinks most people would call it - blackened old souls shrouded in ice around her as she goes, melting into the ice until the black form of what once was their bodies is all that's left, the magic struggling to keep itself alive in bodies that are long gone. It's better than the hell that awaits them now, and as she makes her way deeper and deeper into the dark fortress, Bloom considers for a second whether it's madness to take what she came for.
But time is ticking and hers are dying and she's already exhausted her last resort and she's still losing and there's nothing she'd consider too much if only she could be guaranteed that not only her, but also her friends - Daphne, Stella, Flora, Sky, Brandon, everyone who is still alive - would survive. Sighing, Bloom straightens up, lifts her head and stiffens her shoulders and takes the icy path to the magical graveyard slowly and cautiously.
Entering the Omega dimension was easy - Bloom supposed there was no point putting so much resistance into any madman who wanted to enter an evil prison full of violent war criminals when the wizarding world was on the verge of ending. Finding the magic point to access the secrets within it, however, no. If she lived - if Magix lived - she would have some words to say for the fucking magical council and its secrets; the perception that her person was constantly underused and disregarded in making decisions as she was used to ensure they were possible has not aged well.
Three years was all it took for the soft, willing Bloom the magical world knew to evaporate; three years of battles, wars and fucked up evil wizards attacking her and threatening to destroy her family and her life, taking away her powers and taking away her will to live, forcing her to run after herself over and over again, and then happening all over again, was not exactly an incentive to be soft and helpful to those who didn't even offer a thank you. She couldn't even tell how many times she risked her life for the world, the fairy sighed, passing her hands between one icy sculpture and another, squeezing herself tighter and tighter to fit into the wormhole in front of her, and what the world gave in response? Heartbreak, limitations and sermons; the fucking magical conciul even suggest privating her powers once and now who was risking her life for then again?
Sighing Bloom squeezed into the small passage in front of her, the ice circling the surface in such a way that she had to step aside, muttering a few curses under her breath.
Care is needed, treading the cold, dry ground carefully, fingers barely touching the ground as she walks. She could fly, she supposed, but then again, the last few years had taught her not to waste energy on useless things when she could, and probably would, need it later; Of course, the magical transformations really could innovate a little in the choice of shoes and not absolutely determine that a transformed fairy will fly and don't need shoes.
With icy feet, half-chapped lips and a cold soul, Bloom looks past a poor soul stuck in an icy sculpture at the end of the black hole and her smile widens.
He was still in one piece, his body just as firm as she remembered it, not a black shadow surrounding him and she could see so much of him. His half-naked body is taut, the muscles vibrating under his skin trained with tension, and she wants to sink her teeth into him and feel him. The desire leaves her almost as soon as it comes, though, and she doesn't look up from him yet, curious to understand why even after so long, afterall, she still wants to hurt and protect him the same way she did when she first met him.
It's funny, the fairy laughs softly to herself and herself alone, the sound echoing off the frozen, deserted walls of the prison; four years ago, when she'd defeated him after a harrowing battle, giving up her kingdom's secrets for the sake of Magix, for the infamous greater good, she would never have been able to admit that she wanted him, what he did to her. But that Bloom is dead now, aged and hardened by time and battle, and there's not much she can deprive herself of doing these days, now that she knows how heavy a life is and how easy it is to lose hers.
There's no shame in her gaze when she does now. Stretched out inside transparent ice, naked to all Hell - to all souls that cannot see - she can see all of him - the way his freckles dance, how the ice has chilled his skin to an almost translucent white, the calluses on his hands - the sacrifice of dark magic, she knows now - the scars mapping his body, the sweat dripping and pooling... and she wants it all.
His lips are parted, short, painful breaths coming out of him, and his head falls back, hair as beautiful as she remembers falling lightly over his eyes. He's still as handsome as he ever was, and even across the ice she could see his strength and beauty and the presence of his magic half asleep but still there. His eyes are open, they're on her, blue and still as bright and piercing as she remembers, staring across at her in surprise and distrust, that little purplish part of the areolas following her as she approaches and she looks up at the guardian of the prison - the wild, animal figure that stares down at her, as if she doesn't know it's been there the whole time, surrounding her and watching, preparing to pounce - and her mouth splits, words flowing with such magic and power that the magical temple of the omega dimension - the eye of the omega dimension, the one created just for him when the existing levels proved too weak to hold him - shakes and shakes, ice falling from the walls as if she had directly attacked the structures.
"He's mine,” Bloom says with more conviction than she intended, lust bubbling under the surface of her skin, pure desire and also that strange urge to hug him and snuggle around him that always seems to arise when she sees him.
The snake hisses, and Bloom's smile turns into something nasty, a wild snarl coming out from between parted lips. The snake hisses once more, its tail slamming against the icy prison walls hard, displeasure clear as part of the icy walls fall away, the ice cracking as it crumbles and then disappears into the icy sculpture, the noise of its body dragging across the ice like dragging nails over skin, hissing as if laughing; reveling in the possibility of her death.
Bloom sighs in response, runs her hands through her hair in exasperation and weariness at the realization of the struggle and the little time left for her to get out safely, pauses only a moment later, before moving forward, touching her hand to the icy structure that holds him until the ice melts and he stands before her, eyes wild and brow furrowed.
“Well, that is…unexpected.” He mutters, the words hoarse, throat scratching from disuse enough for his handsome face to twist into a disgusted grimace and Bloom watches carefully, crossing her arms behind her back as she stares him straight in the face, unafraid.
“I suppose it is.” Bloom smiles back, lips parted in the sideways smile she's learned to master so recently, mischievous, wild and yet a little too sweet. Her hand reaches forward before she can decide to and he steps back, eyes gleaming and struggling as he assumes a fighting stance, shoulders a little shivering from the cold. “I'm not here for a fight,” it's funny to realize how human he still is; after so long on the ice, she expected her body to no longer feel the heat, but he gasps as she approaches, heat radiating from her hands until his shoulders stop shaking and his body is steady enough for him to manage to stand without having to lock his jaw in concentration and strength.
“Come on,” she says, turning away from him, he doesn't bother to hide his laughter so she stares straight at him, eyes on him as if assessing his soul and he slowly loses his smile, raises his eyebrow in question and Bloom huffs because it's been years, but he's still exactly how she remembers him. It's nice, she thinks, to have people who are still the same, unaffected by the reality of life and the need to survive. "I need your help."
"I beg you pardon?" He shoots back, crosses his arms over his bare chest as he surveys her and part of her trembles from the weight of his eyes on her half-uncovered body, her skin stinging wherever his eyes pass.
“Look, Valtor,” Bloom snarls, her heart skipping a beat as she dares to say his name for the first time in years, “we don't exactly have that long amount of time before this idiotic fortress comes down on us, I'm tired and hungry and cold ; could you save the sarcasm and violence for when we're out of this damn place?"
She starts walking before he can speak again, and she remembers the time when she would never turn her back on him, when he was the most dangerous and toughest enemy they encountered, before them lost.
Now, as she takes her eyes off the wizard and looks straight ahead, she feels light as she walks, as if she were still the most formidable fairy in Alfea, as if there was nothing that could stand in her way.
Bloom takes a deep breath, calms down and slowly makes her way back into the black wormhole, climbs the stairs slowly - her feet stinging, a small trickle of blood escaping the soles of her feet as glass-thin ice meets soft flesh - as if not in a prison deteriorating very quickly. Nothing really scares her too much these days, and as she slowly makes her way to the exit, criminals and ice and souls falling behind her as she heads toward the great flaming portal she'd rolled out of when she first arrived here, part of her want to look back, check if he's coming.
She doesn't.
She doesn't need to.
His footsteps echo on the ice as slowly as hers.
~
He stands beside her suspiciously, ditching the old pants for a similar black pair, the white shirt half-tight over his chest and a night-black overcoat over his shoulders, magic tinkling in the air as the old pieces disintegrate into tiny purple dots; she maintains the transformation, too paranoid to be out in the open unprepared.
When his eyes meet hers, Bloom is met by the familiar shock that proceeds the action, her body tightening like a barely touched string, desperately wanting to snap. The muscles in his back are still noticeable against the leather of his coat, althoug much thinner than what she remembers. He would probably say the same, if she asked, she tought with a laugh.
“Haven't the years been kind to you too, little fairy?” he asks watching her back, almost as if reading her thoughts and Bloom laughs, the laugh husky and thin, but the sound lacks humor and she swallows it down when she sees him frown in response to the sound. “I thought you good, sincere, benevolent fairies would be being worshiped at this point. Doesn't victory taste good?"
“Too many losses take the taste out of success sometimes.” Bloom murmurs in response, walks slowly, the train of her transformation's black dress leaving a small trail of magic behind her, and she can hear his breathing change slightly as she sits atop the mountain, eyes cataloging the universe forward without haste. She felt him fall to her side slowly, heat radiating off him now that the magic in her body was finally back, coursing through her body and not just fighting to keep her heart beating.
“Tell me what happened.” He growls - orders - , the words firm and hard and Bloom smiles, for real this time, because only he would be able to look regal and sovereign having literally just been rescued from a prison in the middle of nowhere, by the person who put him there in first place.
"Will you help me?" She asks and he stares at her in response, tilts his head to the side in contemplation. "Will you stay?"
“To end up there again?”
“Not if we win.” She sighs wearily, grips a small stone in her hands, runs it between one finger and the other as her eyes gaze at Domino's half-destroyed form with regret and a sharp pain in her chest. "Do you know how much time has passed?"
"Four years." He snarls, stares at her like it's a stupid question and she laughs because of course he would keep the time count exactly right even if he was dying in an ice sculpture, left in the middle of nowhere to die.
“The first two were good.” She whispers, closes her eyes for a second as memories flood her mind. “I managed to live, you know? I've faced some criminals like you out there, a psycho sea freak, I've dealt with some shit but lived.I got my parents back, my kingdom. It's all destroyed now,” she points sadly at the castle ahead with her index finger, rubble of what was once the royal palace looming against the rising sunlight, “and then this guy came along. Killed my friends, ripped off half a fairy's wings, scared the hell out of me; I guess after you, nothing had scared me as much as he does.” The fairy muttered unconsciously. " His name is Pain , as if it were a warning of what he feeds on. And, fuck Valtor,It hurts , it hurts like hell. He, uhm, he sucks your powers, drains your energies and feeds until there's nothing good left inside you and all that's left is an empty shell roaming the streets, scaring and killing those you once loved.” The faerie took a breath, eyes blinking to contain her anger, and Valtor watched raptly, refraining from comment as he watched the girl stiffen before him. “Magix is shit right now, nobody knows what to do and we are losing ; with each encounter we get one less ally and one more enemy. There's not much we can do.”
"I assume the transformation was a last resort?" The wizard asked, pointing at the girl with his neck and she stared at him, startled, eyes wide. "I'm Valtor, darling, there isn't too much black magic in this universe that I don't know about, and this” – he pointed to the girl's wings – “this stinks black magic for miles.”
“Of course you would notice.” She laughed, dropping her head onto her knees, the slit of the black dress opening to expose the girl's legs. “A few years ago, before you,we found this guy, well, this thing. His name was Lord Darkar, like the boastful idiot he was” the faerie laughed “he, um, did something with me. Turned me into an evil kind of myself; you probably would have liked it.”
“Of course you met Darkar.” The wizard snorted, extending his legs and grabbing a rock for himself.
“Have you met Darkar?!” The fairy muttered, staring at him in surprise. “No… it's more than that; you did something to him, didn't you?"
“I told you, Bloom, people like to exaggerate about me; not everything you hear about Valtor, scourge of realms, is true. I'm a lot more than I allow them to share,” the wizard muttered, lips parting in a smug, smirk, “I let them feed their lies, however, there are things that are more valuable if they are secrets.”
“ How old are you anyway?” The fairy asked intrigued. “What’s under the name?”
"Enough." The wizard smiled in satisfaction, shooting the faerie a sideways glance. Four years and even beneath the thick dark armor she wore now, he could still see the same Bloom he had known. Powerful, courageous, human . The magic was different, however. More dangerous and deadly and savage, circling her all around like an extra layer of power. “Your magic?”
“A last resort, indeed.” The fairy muttered in response, regaining the focus of the conversation. “I, um, used up my magic—my energy- in a fight with him. I thought - well, everybody thought - that I was dead; but then a month later I woke up in the dirt, buried under the sand of a desert, alone and bruised and my blood boiling like I was going to explode. When I used my magic and transform, this is what I found. I think part of what he woke up in me stayed alive all this time and when I woke up from the coma, or whatever it was, it woke up with me.”
"Death." The wizard stated, looking at her sideways. "Not 'coma', queen of Domino, death .”
"What?" the faerie asked in a thin voice, eyes doubling in size as she absorbed the words he so directly threw at her.
“You died, Bloom. That's why you smell like dark magic and power, it's so intertwined with you that I could feel it when you stepped into the omega dimension.” The wizard stated, turning his body towards hers, cataloging the way the girl held the stone tightly in her hands. Sighing, the wizard grabbed the slender fingers, the skin thin enough for him to be surprised, opening them to pull the stone from the girl's hands. A wave of his hands, and the stone crumbled to dust, reforming again into a darker version of itself. “When Darkar took you, he tried to erase who you were;to kill you, your spirit . He did an awful job, and when you came back, you took control of the magic he put in your body; black magic pure." He chuckled, tipping his head back in amusement. "Magic like that shouldn't survive long on good little fairies like you; I guess you're not that good, are you now?!"
Bloom stared at him, startled, wide eyes locked on the small floating rock around them. Dark and firm, different but still the same.
“Your body has subdued the magic to the depths of its magical core, numbing it all this time. When you died you probably fought like a banshee against death and the despair in your being awakened the dormant magic in you, binding you to the dragon's flame and voi- a-la, here you are.” The wizard finished, letting the stone sink to the ground again with a loud thud. “Don't die again, fire fairy; it will be permanent this time. Wouldn't it be a shame to waste so much potential over small things like death?"
"Why are you telling me this?"
“Because you got me out of there.” The wizard muttered. “Well, you put me there in the first place, which I haven't forgotten,nor will I.” Threatened. “But even though I'd be out in three more years at most on my own, if the wizarding world dies, I'd probably die with it. We are even now.” The wizard muttered, standing up and slowly patting his hands on his pants, brushing away non-existent dust from the smooth, clean garments.
“Wait!” The faerie cried out, jumping to her feet beside him, her hand flying out to grab his wrist, “Help me.”
"No."
"Why not?"
“Because I won't stick my neck out for you let alone this pathetic and weak wizarding world, that's why.” Snorted. “Why would I do that, Bloom? Seriously, don't you have an ounce of self-preservation? Why would you even ask?”
“Because I'm desperate, Valtor; I am fucking scared .” The fairy snapped, not bothering to hide the truth that passed between the hearts of fairies and the magical world, her voice choking on the last words. Across from her, he stiffened, shoulders tensing as he glared at her. “I came to you because I'm desperate and the only person I could think of who might be able to defeat that damn idiot wizard is you and I'd rather risk you killing me than him. Please, Valtor, I don't want you to fight, this fight can never be won by you if we want to keep the world alive, just—” The faerie gasped, staring at him with frightened, trembling eyes. “Just help us get a chance . Please."
"And what do you suppose I can do for you, Bloom?"
"Don't be modest, Valtor. I Know you have billions of ways of winning a battle. Teach me one of them and I will fight on my own; you keep your hands and you power out of it. That's not a option; to all effects, your sorry ass is frozen in the ice right now." Bloom muttered, eyes on him. "Help me, and I'll give you whatever you want in return. I promise.”
" I want many things, Bloom, many, many things; I want power; I want to see what the world has become while I've been away, I want to be in control of everything and everyone. But right now, In this perfect moment in time, I want to meet this wizard who left you with so much fear that you would beg me for help, Bloom.” The wizard snarled the word, disgust and anger passing through his lips as he stared her. "Your fear is mine and mine alone, fire faerie, and I will have no one else haunting your dreams." The wizard murmured softly, his hands pushing the fairy's chin up until her eyes were so locked with his that it was impossible to see anything beyond him, the words a secret between them, low and soft murmurs drawing a breath from the fire fairy. “I will play this game with you, and you will grant me a favor when we win.” The wizard stated, words once again loud enough to echo in the room.
"What if we lose?" The fairy asked in a thin voice.
“Oh Bloom,” The mage grinned, eyes glittering and fangs bared in a dangerous grin. “Have you forgotten who I am?”
~
In the morning, when Bloom wakes up, it's to the unsettling weight of Valtor's eyes on her. She doesn't remember sleeping, having taken Valtor to one of the last secret bases still standing and then listed - in detail, as he ordered - all the key events that brought the wizarding world to its current decaying situation, then tucked herself into maps and more maps after issuing a magical warning for the rest of the Winx and allies to head towards the base.
Part of her was still frightened by his presence, can't erase the memories of her eighteen-year-old self struggling and moaning to get rid of him; the other part wonders when her life got so messed up, that seeing him brings her hope.
"Eat it." His voice cut through her thoughts and Bloom jumped in her tracks, lifting her head from where it had landed on the wooden table - a trickle of drool dripping from her lips - to stare at him, surprise flooding her features as he placed a bowl delicately in front of her. her. It smelled like the eighth wonder of the world and her stomach rumbled desperately, but Bloom closed her eyes and shook her head in denial. “No, I don't have time for this. I need to prepare myself to receive others; there is always someone sent from Pain when there are many of us in one place.”
Despite being wedged amidst the surrounding once-dead planet of Domino, hidden under so many spells it was impossible to enter unless you were her, somehow, whenever the fairies gathered, something happened, tearing half of the forces that the resistance - as the girls liked to call themselves - possessed, sapping half of everyone's energy and strength and leaving Bloom paranoid at the mere possibility of happening.
"Sit down." The wizard snarled, pushing her back into the chair as the fairy struggled to her feet and Bloom groaned, falling into the chair with a thump and a groan. “You are skin and bones, Bloom, eat it.”
"No, I -"
"Eat. it. Now." The wizard snarled, casting a serious, menacing glare at the woman in front of him. Leaving the transformation aside to slip into a blouse and skirt, she looked even worse, smalleven, thin enough that the shadow of her bones showed faintly against the tight fabric of her shirt. That Bloom, as intelligent and less naive as she was - which was at least an upgrade of the figure he had known - had died, not only in the literal sense as she had just discovered, but also in energy. She was alive, but she looked dead; too quiet, too sad,too much insecure , even if she tried to hide it bravely. He didn't like it. “I'll handle the rest.”
She stares at him uncertainly, but finally gives up, bringing her slender fingers to the spoon and slowly pressing it to her lips. The moan that comes out of her mouth is inevitable and he watches with delight as the girl's cheeks flush red as she looks up at him.
“What the hell did you put in that?” She asks, eyes watching in amazement as her body slowly returns to its former shape, her half-dried hair regaining its luster, coming loose from the messy bun and falling down her back like a soft waterfall.
"Power." The wizard murmurs distractedly, eyes shifting between her form and the maps on the table. He smiled. “Your friends are here.”
Bloom leapt to her feet, almost leaving her bowl of soup - or portion, now that she thought about it - behind, only to grab it when the wizard threw her another one of those looks and gulped down the rest in a hurry.
God, he was bossy.
Stella is the first one she sees, the golden strands circling the already familiar face as she lunges at her hard, circling her in a tight hug and Bloom closes her eyes and relaxes into the embrace, breathing in deeply of the girl's scent. Flora tucks herself into the hug a while later and it's only when Layla screams, loudly, that Bloom remembers exactly why she was so resolute in getting ready to welcome them.
“What the hell is he doing here?” The princess of Andros screams, points at Valtor's slouched figure with her finger, transformation already active and magic in her hands, and Bloom is among them even before her brain reminds her that it's Valtor, and he might as well fend for himself.
"Helping." She screams, hands outstretched in front of her, palms open as she focuses everyone's eyes and tries to get all the right words exactly into one. Valtor's figure is warm behind her, the shadow of one of his fingers resting against her hip, skin touching hers in the small gap of free fabric between blouse and skirt, thumb rotating slowly over her skin as he absently holds a map and Bloom holds the choke in her throat, pretends it doesn't affect her, that she doesn't notice. “He is helping, he - I asked him to help.”
“You what?!'' Sky snarled, the blonde figure pushing forward among the others until he was in front of her and Bloom sighed deeply ignoring the way the expert stared at her in disbelief. “Bloom, have you lost your mind?” The blonde yelled, his hands flying to the girl's arms as he pulled her to him.
“Would you shut up?” Valor grumbled, looking up from the maps laid out on the blessed wooden table that framed the conference room to glare at the blonde. The wizard's eyes landed on where his arms still lay and though he didn't see it, Bloom almost felt the way they burned over Sky, the specialist letting go of her slowly to grab the sword; like a deer before a hungry lion. “I am trying to win the war you are so pathetically losing.”
“Bloom, it's Valtor.” The blonde grumbled, glaring at her.
"I'm aware." The faerie growled, pushing herself further back and away from him, ignoring the way the pain burned in the prince's eyes.
“We can't trust him.” Stella murmured, shooting a look at the wizard and then at the red-haired faerie. "Bloom, you know we can't trust him. I know things are tough, honey, I know . But we are already losing without a soldier we don't trust, imagine if we put him in the mass.”
“But that's the point, Stella.” Bloom smiled at her friend, feet shifting as she pointed from the wizard to the blonde and from the blonde to the wizard. “He is not a soldier, It's Valtor . If we want to beat Pain, we need someone who thinks like him and it's not us. We can't be that; we don't know how. We need someone who is smart, strategic, powerful.” The faerie muttered, trapping her fist between her lips as she spoke. “We need someone who is cruel ; cruel enough that It can see one step ahead of Pain and know how to stop him without losing half our forces in the process."
“The perfect weapon no one expects you to pull out.” Valtor laughed, fixing the fairies with an amused look. "Well played, Bloom, a queen's move." He muttered, eliciting a fleeting smile from the redhead, blue eyes lingering in his for a second.
“That's a bad idea;" Layla snarled. "Probably the worst you've ever had Bloom, and that's saying a lot. It's a terrible idea and you should have told us before you made the call for all of us; Again .”
“Got any better?!” The fire fairy snapped irritably, looking away from the wizard to the fairy. Being a leader was difficult, the faerie had realized. Especially when faced with situations where decisions had to be made that weren't pretty. “Because I'm all ears, but we've spent the last two years fighting and losing following other people's shitty ideas, and I'm tired of losing. If we're going to follow shitty ideas like we've been doing till now, then I'm putting mine in the game and it's him.” The fairy pointed at the wizard with her fore finger, her black-painted nails long chipped. “If shit hits the fan, I will take responsibility; I always do it anyway.” She pointed with a snort. “So either you suggest something better or help us, me and the lesser evil, to deal with the greater.”
“Fine. The especialist will listen, Bloom, because it's you.” Sky snarled, hands gripping the sword so tightly, Bloom worried for a moment that his fingers were going to get hurt, teeth clattering together as he snarled. “But I don't trust him, and at the first sign that he's going to betray us, I'll rip his head off.”
“Oh my oh my, dear lord, what shall I do now.” The wizard snorted, pushing one map over the other absently. “Stop overestimating your worth, Prince of Eraklyon; you are a mere pawn at best." The wizard grumbled, then gave him a deeper, mocking look, a smile forming on his pretty lips. "Now go put away your toy, boy.”
“Really?! Because it's me , Sky? What about because we are out of a fucking option ?!" Bloom snarled, ignoring the older wizard. “This is not a pissing contest, this is a goddamn war and we are losing,Sky. He's the oldest font we know of, so at this point I don't give a shit if you like it or not, he stays ." The redhead took a deep breath. "If you don't like it, all of you, then fuck off and let us do our job cuz I'm not dying for this again." The faerie snarled, shoving the blonde out of the way with a shoulder shove.
"And you," Bloom turned and grabbed the black lapels of the black coat, pulling the older wizard down so that she could meet his eyes with her own. "Stop playing and think. "
"Oh, Bloom," Valtor chuckled, tipping his head back, one of his hands coming up to circle the faerie's fists still wrapped around his neck in an almost affectionate gesture, head tilting to the side, hair spilling over his shoulders and bouncing on her, pulling her to her toes as her eyes stared back at him. “I already did that, little flower.”
~
The way Valtor dominates the room is something Bloom is sure she won't forget as long as she lives; the grace of a king - feet soft and light against the ground, body tall and hard, as if nothing were strong enough to knock him out of his pose, to wrest the authority that emanates from him so easily - dominates him completely, shoulders heaving the wisdom of an old man - eyes that squint and evaluate, discover and concoct ideas in the blink of his eyes - and the acumen of a born strategist as his long, slender fingers move through the air, pulling scrolls upon scrolls of magic and holding them out before her.
Watching him work is magnetic ,as if there's something about the tall, masculine figure that catches her eyes, taking them in with every little movement of his body, mesmerizing her until she can't see anything but him in the room.
In the early days, he plans. He takes a seat at the wooden table ignoring the circle of people around him, raises his eyebrow slightly when a few witches pass through the secret doors, then returns to his maps and his magic, slowly analyzing everything that requires. The crystal ball beside him shimmers now and then, announcing the surroundings he seeks to observe and the satisfied whisper is all Bloom can hear from him in response.
The first week she sits beside him, a bowl of food in her hand under his watchful eye, a faint pulse of magic in her fingers. Tiredness is exhausting, Bloom realizes. Since she found the tormentor of her breath, since she found death, her magic constantly fluctuates between strong and weak. Not even the heat that burns inside her is enough to erase the cold that touches her bones, the ice that seems to touch her skin sometimes, no matter how much she covers herself and how many shirts she wears, she still feels cold; too cold to be normal. Every time she sits next to him, overdressed to not be considered odd, Valtor looks away from whatever he is currently doing for her, blue irises scanning her from head to toe, eyes narrowing into his chest and then attaching himself to hers. Bloom shivers, crosses her arms over her chest and swallows the ball of dread in her throat, lowering her eyes to the bowl until his are no longer on her.
In the second week, when she sits next to him, black magic making the air dense and difficult to breathe, the Winx preferring to stay on the highest floors of the tower - where the magic doesn't seem so strong -, the specialists - those who still are alive, Bloom forces herself to remember - scattered protectively around the room suspiciously and some of the witches who have allied with the cause watching from afar with admiration clear in their eyes, Valtor grabs her wrist the first time the cold hits her body and she shivers. His hands are warm on her, heat flooding her as he holds her wrist in a gentle grip - gentle in ways she never thought his touch would be - and Bloom sighs as the heat, the fire, floods her veins and her heart beats in a steady violent throb for the first time in months.
She doesn't ask.
He offers no response.
Her wrist finds a home in his hands every day after that.
In the third week, he scoffs. His words are cold, cruel and smart and he pushes them to train until their magic springs are shaking, legs too weak to stand and hands aching from defending themselves.
You fairies are too weak to overcome what he carries.
Whatever Pain did, whatever way he held all those who succumbed to his hands under his spell, Valtor knew. He knew it well enough to vehemently assert that if they didn't get better, they wouldn't win and Bloom watches the way the sharp, beautiful jaw hardens with every word he utters, his eyes locking onto hers with each word.
Bloom trains and trains until her heart threatens to stop and her legs give out on the hard floor of the training room.
In the fourth week he gives an order.
They come out of a match without a loss for the first time; a secret in hands and hope in the chest.
When she sees him, sitting in the center chair at the table like a chief, like a king, legs crossed over each other and a satisfied look in his eyes as she places the half-crumpled parchment in his long, slender hands, her lips part in a grimace happy smile intended for him, and only him, for the first time. Her heart skips a beat when he returns with one of his own, the prominent fangs gleaming as he parts his lips in a full, satisfied smile, teeth gleaming in the starlight.
He looks beautiful like that, Bloom notices. Sitting at the table like an adviser, never touching the battle but directing them where to step and how to step, the moonlight shining through the window panes and reflecting on him. It's safer now, since he arrived; there are so many spells hiding the watchtower they're in, that Bloom thinks that even if Pain could locate them, he wouldn't be able to get in without them noticing way before. The windows stay open now, and when the moonlight hits him, it's like a well-done painting, taking her breath away with every little glance.
In the fifth week, when she arrives at the conference room where he waits for them every day - he is always there when she arrives, the only indication that he has not been there all along being the smell of the woody soap he uses and which it sticks to his skin completely and the wet strands of hair that fall over his muscular back every day - there's a chessboard taking up the table space.
He speaks then; he talks and explains, describes how they will win and when they will win. How will they ensure that the evil spell Pain has been using - a pathetically botched version of his mark, he had explained a few weeks earlier, the result of a failed attempt to bend the free will of mages to his will - as he had so successfully done - sucking life energy and magic when it should dominate the freedom and will to fight that inhabits the heart of all men and leaving them an empty shell of himself, a perfect puppet for Pain to use according to his will and will - no will affect them and that they will come out unscathed.
Especially, how they're going to rip his heart out of his chest, pieces moving under the control of his hands, one move at a time.
The queen is named after her; no one talks about the fact that he is the king.
His touch on her wrist is a constant beyond time now, radiating warmth and life into her body in more ways than one; holding her to the earth every day.
Bloom doesn't realize she misses it until her skin itches and trembles, waking her up from another sleepless night wrapped in sweat-soaked sheets and heavy, slow breathing on her lips. She's on her feet before she knows it, her feet carrying her to his bedroom door automatically, fists hitting the solid metal firmly, her breath ragged and a sob on her lips.
Part of her fears he won't open it, fists hitting metal once more, the sound echoing in the empty hall; the base is empty, she reminds herself as she bangs hard on the door. There were scrolls he requested, spells he ordered retrieved, and teams dispersed until only she and Stella remained in the tower with him, awaiting them and guardian him ; she hasn't seen him for three days, the wizard having gone into a sort of hibernation now that there was finally nothing that required his immediate attention.
“Valtor,” She screams, or tries to, her voice no more than a low, choked whisper, words stuck on her tongue as she shivers in his doorway, body cold and wet, hair plastered to her forehead.
Her eyes are almost closed when the door opens and she doesn't even realize the moment she flies over him, a greedy moan passing her lips when her skin meets his, the tiny pajamas not hiding the skin his hands automatically touch, circling her around the waist as she drops onto his chest and holding her against him. His hands are warm against her lower spine, fingers digging into the fabric to touch her skin and Bloom gasps and moans as he does, closes her eyes tightly as heat radiates from him to her, shivering in his arms as he holds her, pulls in kicking the door with his feet.
His body is hard beneath her as he carries her and Bloom doesn't even think to run away or deny it as he sits down on the bed and pulls her onto his lap, one hand circling her waist to keep her sitting on top of him and another gently pulling her by the hair to face her.
“Easy, my love,” she thinks she hears him whisper, the words too jumbled for her groggy mind to process, and instead she lets herself fall into his, rests her head against the crook of his neck, vaguely aware that he is only half-dressed, his hair wet and the smell of sugar and black magic pungent about him. He's probably just gotten out of the shower, her mind supplies slowly and Bloom agrees with a deep breath at the base of his neck, arms circling him tightly, pushing against him as if she could melt into him.
His hand is warm against his back and she sighs, takes a deep breath and lets her eyes close once more, safe in his arms.
~
She wakes up on a satin bed, far too big for the beds they have at the bottom, black sheets enveloping her as she rests against the pillow, the soft drape of the fabric passing over her half-bare legs, uncovered by the short, thin shorts of the pajamas. Valtor is sitting in an armchair facing the bed, legs crossed, chest still bare and eyes on her and Bloom gasps, jumps and curls up against the sheets, pushing herself against the wall in fright. The look in his eyes is enough to ask the question they both know was born in her tongue the moment she opened her eyes.
"What's happening to me?" She asks instead, keeps him out of the question. His eyes narrowed, a resigned sigh escaping between his beautiful, full lips. Bloom swallowed tightly as he got up, high - so, so high now that she's sitting on the bed, on his bed,a red dot amidst the darkness of his sheets - she forces herself to keep her eyes off his firm, hardened chest, bulging muscles; not too strong to be weird, not too thin to look harmless and young; Perfect.
Perfectly well built, perfectly attractive; perfectly wrong.
His hand is warm against her chin as he touches it slowly, he lifts her face so that her eyes meet his and if she was less scared and a little younger her cheeks would have reddened in embarrassment; as she is, the faerie just sighs, following him with her eyes as he moves to the big, wide window, keeping her eyes on the icy forest that surrounds them.
“What happened to Faragonda?” he asks in response, keeping his eyes outside.
"Oh. I forgot you don't know," Bloom sighed, clutching the sheets around her and slowly getting out of bed. His eyes flick to hers as she stops beside him, trying to find in the snow covered forest what he seems to be looking for. "She, um, she's gone." The girl mutters, locks her eyes on a random tree as she talks. “A while after I uh, after I come back. We were losing the battle, Magix was losing; she defended us all when we had no more strength, gave us time to escape.” She whispered, "she protected us one last time."
"If she cared so much about protecting you, as you so pathetically like to believe," the wizard sneered, shifting his eyes from the trees to her, "she would have told you what's going on."
"She didn't know." she whispered.
“Oh, don't be naive, little fairy.” The wizard laughed, the laugh loud in the silence of the night. “She knew; he just didn't care enough about sacrificing you for the rest of the world."
“And you do?!” The faerie questioned, her hands letting the sheets fall to the floor to land on her hips in defiance, ignoring the shiver that came with the cold.
“Oh, I couldn't care less with the world, Bloom. I will survive him, I always do.” Valtor chuckled, leaning against the window to watch her, arms crossed over his bare chest once more, hair falling over his shoulders. “You, on the other hand, would be long dead by now if it weren't for me.”
"What is happening?" The fairy whispered in a thin voice, all playfulness and defiance leaving her and Valtor sighed, pushing himself away from the window to approach. Bloom forced herself to her feet, held her weight as he approached, a sigh the only sound to mark the spot as he pressed his body to hers, warm and familiar.
“Do you feel this, little fairy?” The wizard murmured, raising a single finger to the bare skin of her shoulders, the strap of her pajama top a thin, fragile strip, fingers moving up and down her skin in a soft, slow stroke. Bloom gasped, shook her head in response, forcing herself to keep her eyes from closing in response to his touch. "What do you feel?"
"It's…warm.” The fairy murmured, gasped once more as the wizard continued to touch her, fingers trailing down to the wrists of her arms and then up to the hollow of her neck, head falling to the side without her noticing, making room for his touch. "Familiar," she whispered, pushing against the touch until her body pressed against his, forehead resting against the wizard's bare chest, a sigh echoing in the room. "It is good, feels… alive ” the fairy murmured, - moaned - as the wizard's hand opened on her neck to circle her neck, pulling her lightly away from her chest and into her eyes.
Bloom opened his eyes slowly, heat radiating from his body as he watched her, pupils widened - so, so big and beautiful - hungry eyes and tight lips. Trembling, she pressed against him, chest pressed against his as he kept his head turned away, her legs somehow threading themselves between his until she was almost completely against him.
“I'm so cold .” Murmured, groaned, the words low and husky and Valtor growled, half sighed against her, pulling her to his chest tightly. Bloom snuggled into him, arms circling him across her chest, sighing contentedly as his warmth flooded her completely, his warm breath blowing against her hair as he rested his chin on top of her head, half- curved over her.
“What shall I do with you, little fairy?!'' His voice rang above her and Bloom croaked in her chest, a small cry snatching her lips as he rose to his full height, pulling her with him by the waist, the fairie's legs circling him at the hips, locking above his ass firmly.
Her back slumped against his bed slowly, her auburn hair fanning out against the black satin of the bed and Bloom gasped, watching with thirsty eyes as he sat atop her, his wide legs caging her in as he sat on her haunches, half kneeling over her. His hands are gentle as they trail the pajama bottoms slowly, circling the skin and fabric until she almost offers to yank them from her body, a knowing smile gracing the wizard's lips as he crouches over her, presses her lips slowly against the skin of her shoulders, the underside of her collarbone, lips trailing down to the tops of her breasts, heat making her dizzy and wanting, eliciting a low moan from the faerie and a loud, irritated growl from the wizard.
The wizard growled, pulling away from her slowly, pulling her up until her body was sitting on the bed and across from his, legs half wrapped around his hips as he stared down at her, a low sigh escaping the wizard's lips as he grabbed the sheets between her fingers, preventing herself from getting closer and closer to him.
“You are dying, Bloom.” Valtor growled, catching her eyes with his, gripping her chin as she shivered, eyes widening.
" I'm what ?"
"Is not warm, little fairy, is magic. My magic. You're so low on magical energy that if I hadn't been feeding you mine for the past month, you'd have dropped dead somewhere.” The wizard snarled, slowly spreading the faerie's legs and pulling himself to his feet. “Your precious Faragonda left you like a pig to the slaughter, fairy of fire; when you came back that old cachet should have checked your magic levels and helped you solve the problem, not unleash you in the middle of a battle to use up the little you have left.”
“But… But… The dragon's flame is eternal.” The faerie muttered, curling up in the sheets. Valtor swallowed, eyes averting in fright.
“You died, Bloom. You can't be so oblivious as to think it wouldn't have repercussions." He huffed, irritated. "You've been using what little your body has been able to provide and that's why Darkar's magic took over your transformation. You should have taken a goddamn sabbatical year to recover, or stolen some recovery spells, not stuck that stupid pretty ass in fight after fight.” The wizard snarled, running his hands through his irritated hair. "I didn't think it was this low, but damn, your magic core is so cracked that your stupid core got addicted.”
“Addicted…?” The fairy muttered, testing the words. “I - wait, are you saying - I'm fucking addicted to you ?" She screamed, jumping on the bed.
“Like you had smoked thirty stones.” The witcher growled "And I'm the next one you want to put those pretty little hands on it."
“Ah, fuck me! That's just fucking unbeli - ” The fairy screamed, burying her face in her hands in a desperate gesture. “Wait, that's why… That's why I'm like this?" The faerie questioned, snorting when the wizard raised an eyebrow. “You know what I mean.”
"Actually, no, princess, I don't know." The wizard approached, surrounding her on the bed like a lion and Bloom swallowed hard, pushing herself against the base of the bed. " Care to light me up?" he whispered.
“All… bothered.” The faerie snorted in resignation, shifting her eyes to the ceiling and then returning them to the wizard once more with courage. “I keep seeing you and I just… Want."
"Want what?" The wizard smiled, placing his hands on the edge of the soft mattress and crouching down next to the girl. "And what do you want, Princess of Domino?"
"I want... I want all." The fairy murmured, closing her eyes. "I want to wrap myself around you and I want to smell that stupid hair of yours and touch your skin, to have it on mine, I want to -I want you in me ." She snarled, eyes widening in irritation. "That's what being fucking addicted to someone, to you,does?"
"No." The wizard snarled, one of his hands flying across the bed to pull her to him. Bloom screamed, grabbing onto the wizard's arms to hold on as he pinned her down his body, the faerie's legs wrapping around his hips once he held her against him, pressing himself into her legs. "No, little fairy," the wizard purred, "that's not the vice, it's just you ".
"I don' t believe you." The fairy muttered in a thin voice.
"Yes, you do." The wizard chuckled, drooping his head over her, tucking himself against the crook of the faerie's neck, "I'm not a trustworthy man, dear," Bloom gasped, shivering in his arms, as the wizard breathed deeply against her skin, a low, husky growl coming from evil lips. "But I want to ravish you, take you until you can't feel anything but me; I want to feel you coming on my cock, little fairy, red and panting,wet and so fucking beautiful." His teeth grazed her neck slowly, a cold, quick scrape against the hot skin and Bloom moaned, her legs pressing him against hers in sheer, altered, involuntary pleasure, a loud moan echoing against him as Valtor bit dow the skin slowly. "Believe In that too, Princess."
Bloom gasped, her hands flying to land on the back of the wizard's head, slender fingers digging into the soft brown strands; in her arms, he shivered, head lowered to her neck to give her enough room to play. He smelled like magic, Bloom realized with a sigh, pure, seductive magic, pulling her heart out of her chest with every move of his hands, large, wide palms gripping her half-bare ass and lifting her onto the mattress to press down on her, pressing her against him duly, the hard form between them touching her firmly, eliciting a low moan from the faerie. His hands moved without his control, exploring the wizard's bare back slowly, fingers tracing the thin lines of aging scars, past his broad shoulders and gently down the line of the wizard's spine, pulling his round ass closer , most inside of the cage of her legs.
Valtor held her tight in response, holding her tightly in his arms, nose pressed against the soft skin of her neck, heavy, deep breathing making her skin crawl. Bloom clutched him to her, hugging him tightly, her head falling against his shoulders as he pulled away slightly. The redhead gasped when the wizard's hands landed on the red strands of her hair, pulling her off his shoulders to look at her, his hands falling from her hair to her chin, lifting it so her eyes were on him.
His eyes were dark, Bloom noticed with a low sigh; dark and wide and hungry, the pupil so dilated it looked almost unnatural, the jaw set as if he was holding back and the lips sealed together as he watched her. His fingers were warm against her skin, magic clinking and seeming to glow with every space he occupied, her chin quivering as he held it between his fingers.
"Humn" The wizard purred, fingers tracing the shape of the fairy's lips, satisfaction flooding his face when she opened them to the touch of his hands. “Oh, little fairy, you have no idea what I could do to you now, do you?!” The wizard chuckled, tongue darting out to flick over fangs quickly in delight. “Soft and so easy in my arms; all I would need is one touch and you would be marked and mine ."
Bloom stiffened in his arms and the wizard threw back his head in an amused laugh, his arm pinning her against him around the waist.
“Don't worry, Bloom.” Valtor whispered, thumb tracing the soft skin of the girl's waist in a slow rotational motion, lowering himself over her to press his lips against the curve of her ear. “I like you awake and screaming.” She growled against him, loud and husky as she pushed at him with her fists and Valtor groaned in response, pulling her ass closer to him, pressing her against his dick slowly and hardly. “Yes, little fairy, just like that.”
"You are so hot , stupid hell."The fairy snarled irritably, eliciting an amused chuckle from the wizard; a growl as the redhead grabbed him by the ass once more, pressing him hard against her, hips rolling in a slow motion, eyes locked on him.
Valtor snarled, pushing her away from him in one swift movement, the fairy gasping as her back slammed into the soft mattress, legs falling from where they surrounded him, his hands flying out to grab the fairy's knees, pushing them into the side and opening it in front of him.
His hands are big against her, long, slender fingers tracing the soft shape of the fairy's skin, penetrating the thin fabric of her pajamas as in soft, unassuming exploration, kneeling between her legs, pushing forward to rip the thin pajama top off her body in one smooth motion. The red strands spread across the black of his sheets like a painting, rebellious and wild, spreading around her and when Valtor bent down over her, pressed his lips against her slender neck and brought them to the tops of her breasts, Bloom gasps and sighs, hands flying to fit between his hair as he does so.
He pulls away with a sigh, the brown strands of his hair falling over the side of her shoulder as he does, pushing her back onto the mattress when she threatens to get up with a touch on his shoulder. His hand engulfs her entire breast, covers the soft skin with a firm and somewhat smooth palm, elicits a sigh from her with each touch of his on the warm skin. Her skin burns, burns alive and hot as his hand pulls away, covers the distance between her breasts and her belly, tracing her skin carefully, fingers rotating against her navel and shivering through. Bloom gasped as his other hand landed on her hip, joining the other as he gripped her firmly around the waist, a satisfied grunt echoing past the wizard's lips at the sight.
The soft, fluffy pajama shorts disappear with a pulse of magic, but she's too wrapped up in him, numb by the way he takes her nipple between his lips to sense it coming out, a choked, needy moan echoing past her lips as he pulls it away. He traces her skin with his lips, nibbles her nipples - the shadow of teeth making her restless and thirsty - kisses her belly, tongue darting out to nip at her lower abdomen, a cheeky bite on the side of her hip. His hands feel even bigger as they grip her thighs, hard enough for her to consider for a second that his fingerprints are going to grace her skin, pull them apart slowly and calmly, eyes on her as he do.
Her back arches off the bed as he flicks his tongue for the first time and he growls into her, grips her sternum, pushes her against the bed to keep her pinned beneath him, licks and sucks her folds until she she's limp and desperate, hands fisting in his hair tightly, her voice cracking as she moans, her teeth clamping down on her lips to stop herself from moaning his name as she comes on his tongue.
His lips glisten with her wetness as he lifts himself up from between her legs and he laugh; he looks her in the eyes and smiles as she watches him, licks his lips and closes his eyes satisfied for a second and then locks eyes with her again and Bloom gasps, trembling beneath him.
His fingertips trace a playful line down her inner thigh, touching her slowly, heat seeping through his fingertips, magic superheating her until she's pushing up on her elbows to watch.
“Wanna see, Bloom?” He laugh "Go on, darling, be a good girl and look."
She inhales deeply at the words, gasps when his fingers slide inside, his index finger sliding along the seam of her folds. She's wet, so wet - from coming on his lips and from him alone - that the thrust of his fingers inside her sounds loud, wet and slippery.
"Is it good, little fairy?" he sings with mock sympathy, asking as if she isn't shivering against him, clinging to his arm that holds him above her tightly, and she almost screams, muttering a low, husky curse when he twists his finger inside her, her muscles twitch in response.
"Look at you," he murmurs as another finger slides into her wet sex. “Aren't you glad you got me out of there now?” He thrusts his fingers into her hard and she gasps, need coiling inside her, throbbing and pulsing as if her heart is bursting out of her chest. “I think so,” he breathes, “I'm going to put that pathetic, weaker version of me in the palm of your pretty little hands,” his fingers move slowly, deep enough to hurt, inside and out of her, and she gasps when he bends over her, presses his lips to her chin in a quick kiss, a teasing brush of his lips against her skin “and in the meantime you’re going to sit on mine, isn’t that good, Bloom?”
She pushes herself onto the bed clinging to his arm, buries her face in the crook of his shoulder as he sits down on the bed, pulls her onto his lap, and she whimpers against him.
"Wouldn't it have been a lot more fun if we'd started like that four years ago? I wanted you wet on my dick back then too, you know that?" He purrs, chuckles as her walls tighten around his fingers, and he pushes harder, stretching her as she rotates her hips around him, meeting her movements. "All queen needs a throne, princess,” he murmurs when she moans, high in the back of her throat. "You can sit on my lap until we get yours back."
His thumb brushes over her clit hard and she pulls away, muffling her cry into his shoulder, she bites his shoulder hard as she comes, fingers digging into her bare belly where he holds her against him.
Her arms tighten around his neck as she finally pulls away, legs falling loose around his body, cheeks flushed and lips flushed and Valtor growls in satisfaction, runs his fingers through her hair slowly, pushing the wild, matted strands out of her face.
"Beautiful." He hums, traces his fingers slowly down her neck, revels in the way she sighs in his arms.
His mouth is sweet on hers, he swallows her voice with his tongue, tracing her contours unhurriedly, soft and slow; parting her lips with a touch of his teeth against the soft skin, eliciting a choked moan from the girl as she surrenders, pressing her arms around his neck to pull him closer to her.
He tilts his head, smiles against her lips as she follows, swallows her soft moan into his mouth and holds her against him with the same strength she puts into his neck.
His lips are parted when she pulls away, eyes half glazed and hands on her waist holding her tightly in his lap and Bloom snarls, pushes her hands between them, feverishly reaching for the waistband of the pants he wears; an ordinary sweatshirt, she notices with a giggle; nothing like she imagined the black and dark Valtor.
He's hard against her, moaned softly as she gripped his cock in her hands, touch soft and tentative, hips pushing up on the bed, hand on her waist squeezing him.
Bloom screamed as he fell back onto the bed, pulling her down with him, the fairy readjusting her legs over him as she sat on top of him, her soft ass pressing against his cock. His hands are steady as he pulls hers away from him, brings slender fingers to his lips, presses a quick, thin kiss to her skin.
“No, little fairy, not yet” he murmurs, pulls her by the hair to press his lips to hers tightly, his other hand tracing the girl's bare spine peacefully, “we're going to solve this little problem of yours” the wizard whispered, squeezing her around his body by the waist, “and then, when you're good and steady, strong enough not to depend on me to live, then I'm going to fuck that tight little pussy until you pass out." He pressed a kiss against her forehead. "Rest now, Bloom.”
She slumped over him slowly, her naked body resting on top of his as he traces her spine with quick, smooth fingers, a satisfied sigh echoing from her lips, the heat of him surrounding them both and flooding her with warmth and life as she relaxes, breathing slowing down as she surrenders to the realms of dreams.
“Sweet, innocent Bloom, don't you know me? Valtor laughed softly as she finally fell asleep, her head heavy against his chest. “When I fuck you, princess, there will be nothing for you to hide behind. No vices, no weaknesses, no enemies for you to pretend is what led you to me.” The wizard growled, fingers running through her hair in a discreet caress. “There will be nowhere for you to run, little fairy; nowhere to hide from the fact that you want it . ”
~
For the next few weeks, it's almost like nothing happened.
It's with a deep sigh that Bloom realizes just how deeply attached she is to him; how things between them remain exactly as they always were and yet it's nothing platonic . He doesn't touch her beyond a light squeeze of her wrist, doesn't speak to her differently - babbles about the general inability of the wizarding world, complains about Pain's patheticness, teaches her how to play chess, strategic chess with pieces with names and actions, trains her for the final fight and directs her on how to deal with the addiction in her blood - , doesn't look at her differently - analyzes her with the same warm and dangerous eyes that always looked at her.
Still, it feels like he's undressing her on the table and Bloom gasps - audibly - because Stella has been pointing out the tension between the two of them since long before she entered the omega dimension and dragged his icy ass out - in those moments when they still could be just girls talking about boys and men - and it is mortifying realizing that it has become normal enough for her not to even notice.
It's been a long time since she's been in love, Bloom realizes with a sigh; long enough that she misses the feeling, too little time to she forgets that sometimes It hurts to want.
Her heart is closed now - permanently closed - and his essence seems to surround him, looking for gaps to enter and make a home in her chest. He doesn't even look like he's trying, just standing there existing and Bloom sighs, swallows at how easy it is to forget who he is and what he's done when he spends his days staring subtly at her, caring her, in power and in humanity.
It's almost impossible to forget the taste of his mouth, the way he feels pressed against her; what it's like to fall asleep on his chest and wake up with her arms intertwined with his, the smell of magic, power and cedar in the air, brown hair spread across the bed and a chest that rises and falls relaxedly with each breath.
She tryes anyway; knows exaclty how things will end if she doesn't. Yet,there's not much incentive to deny herself what she wants when her life could be over in the blink of an eye.
Brown eyes, golden eyes, blue eyes. Her life could end in the blink of any of those; too many colors and yet not enough to wrap all the feelings she sees in each pair.
The weight of Sky's eyes is strong enough to weigh down her shoulders, pulling them down; from the dark corners of the conference room, she can feel him analyzing them, watching as she transitions from one place to the next, as her body seems to move towards him as if it were natural, thoughtless. Part of her feels guilty; he is still Sky, a hasty ending between one fight and another for life not erasing everything they lived through. The other part of her can't stop herself from gravitating towards him, almost as if it's impossible to stop her own being from going towards him.
Brandon is a shadow next to the golden prince; he guards him as if there's the slightest risk that Valtor will attack him at any moment, even if the witcher doesn't offer them so much as a glance.
Flora and Stella don't understand, but they do.
Layla judges it; stares at them with sharp looks and whispered words, even when Bloom is doing nothing but breathing the same air as him, as if she is seeing much more than they are actually doing; condemning her for being civil and stopping by him every now and then.
Bloom don't judges her ; the Princess of Andros was one of the people most affected by his actions - actions he makes explicit at every opportunity that were determined and planned, that even now, years since he lost, he does not regret taking them. He's a bad man, as he has no problem admitting; selfish, boastful, dangerous, and deadly, and if anyone in this room expects him to prove otherwise, then they shouldn't hold back in preparation for the impending disappointment.
Bloom thinks it's okay if she's a little selfish for once; she gave her all for Magix, for Alfea and for these lives, literally gave hers, and once she will allow herself to touch the prize,to choose a cup to grab and hold for herself.
Still, it's not hard to see the atypical mood that grows between the fairies of waves and fire. Valtor talks about it once, drops the words casually while in a strategic meeting, locks eyes with Layla, and slowly states about how there are leaders and led, queens and subjects; powerful and weak; reaffirms the way everyone has a place in the food chain, that a fish, destined for the depths of the waters, can never fit into the freedom and grandeur of the heavens, in the birthplace of a dragon.
Across the table, Layla balls her hands into fists. In its place, Bloom snorts inwardly.
I never asked to be the leader of anything.
Valtor laughs, that sly, manipulative smile he carries with him, and even if he doesn't say it, Bloom hears the words as if they were rumbling on a drum.
But you are; there's no getting away from that either.
Stella rolls her eyes, tosses her hair to one side and points a finger at him, playfully wondering if small talk would help them win.
Valtor laughs amused; Solaria has always trained hers princesses in diplomacy. This one, he likes.
At the end of the table, the three huddled together - a fearful share in the resistance, components he grabbed and plucked from the dark caverns surrounding Magix, ordered that they would help rescue what he wanted or were there be consequences for their past actions which he has not forgotten - the Trix tremble in recognition of the owner and the warlock's menacing, malevolent gaze, the aura surrounding him seeming much stronger than they remembered - more evil -, take a deep breath and watch as he makes the last move of the game, forcing their fur down and trying to ignore the plot and manipulation emanating from him in the air.
On the day of the apocalypse, Valtor presses his lips to her wrist and sends her into battle with so much magic singing in her blood that she feels dizzy.
They fight and they fight and still lose , Pain pummeling them into the ground with force and frustration at his spell's imminent inability to turn them into puppets and dolls; it's the first time she's seen the rest of the Winx look totally relieved that she's taken him off the ice and brought him back to teach them how to defend themselves.
Still, even if they attack him in return and manage to slow him down, hurt him even, he still wins, pushing magic and magic they don't know - black, so black it makes her wings itch and flutter, wanting to touch - upon them until the floor is littered with half-dead fairies.
The fight has always been hers, Bloom knows; even if the conference table was full of witches and specialists, the fight always belonged to the Winx's and once again he was right: it is indeed impossible to run away from leadership when it is so ingrained in your being.
She fights until her last breath.
Defend hers with all her being.
Welcomes death with open arms and a sob on her lips; like the pig at the slaughter he claimed her to be.
~
It's the glow that wakes her up; hot and heavy, seeming to bend the air and swallow life and she opens her eyes to his gleaming back, lying on the floor, her hand clutching the hand of a crying Stella, the fairy's tears like golden rain on her face.
“Oh my God, you're alive.” Stella sighs, low and shaky, pulls her into her arms tightly and Bloom gasps, arms a little limp against the sun fairy.
"What -"
"Then you are Pain.” His voice cuts off the fairy's words and Bloom jumps in fright, turns around on the floor to watch in fright as Valtor affirms, words low and calm, like a serpent very irritated, about to pounce. She watches as Valtor surveys him slowly, hands shoved in his pants pockets, taking his time, relaxed and calm, hair flying as the wind snatches the air. It seems like the day they met, the fairy notices, fairies watching ecstatic as he dominates everything with his being. "Weaker than they made you look." Valtor says, laughs in amusement and Bloom jumps back when Pain hits him with a fist full of magic, widens her eyes when he throws his head back and laughs, getting rid of the power with a sloppy movement of his hands.
"Who are you?" Pain growls, straightens his spine as if preparing for a fight for the first time; hurts her ego in ways she can't explain that he does. "Have you finally realized the inevitability of this fight, princess of Domino?" The mage chuckled, voice echoing like thunder in the air as the mage teased, throwing her a mocking look where her body still hung and Bloom snarled where she stood, eyes wide in Valtor's dark shadow.
"Don't talk to her. Don't look at her, don't touch her; don't even think about her.'' Valtor ordered slowly, low, voracious and dangerous. "You shouldn't have even met her and just because you did, you'll pay the price."
"I can fend for myself." Bloom snarled, pushing against Stella to assume a defensive position. "This is not what we agreed; you don't fight here, Valtor!"
"Oh, I know, my little warrior fairy. Always refusing the idea of giving up, so firm to yours precepts idiots and fruitless. So believerin to the words of men…" The wizard purred, a smile on his lips " There is something you are missing, little fairy… Something big, that you should never have let it pass…" The smile on the wizard's lips widened, taking his face. "The moment you descended to me, Bloom, Queen of Domino, you gave me this battle. Gave me this enemy, this life; gave me your tears. This battle you were never meant to win, my love, not even if you paid for it with your life."
" Get out ." The faerie snarled, magic surrounding her as she struggled to her feet, only to fall back to the ground with a loud crash and a frustrated groan.
"All that training, little fairy, and you're still so far from where I want you... All that fire , this total inability to give up… All this life... Perfect, in more ways than you can undestand; But you still didn't get it, did you, Bloom? All the moves work in my favor; you gave me the board, my perfect stubborn brave queen. Did you really think you could play with me without losing? There are no losses for me in this board, princess; I am the master of this game and I will win the prize I desire." The wizard smirked as the fairy widened her eyes in fright, anger flooding her smooth, soft face twisting it into an irritated grimace and then stilling, turning to the blond shadow who was watching them with obvious interest. "Do you want to know who I am? I am everything you want to be." Valtor mutters, removes the gloves from his hands calmly, without haste, raises his eyebrow when Pain attacks him once more. His hands are a little black, Bloom can see from where she is, the tips of his fingers blackened and dark as if the magic inside him has gone beyond the allowed amount of the receptacle called body and comes out on his skin. "You should know what is yours to take, guardian of souls." He scoffed, folding his hands behind his back as Pain tensed to the fullest, eyes narrowed as he studied him.
"You are old." Pain stated. “I haven't been called that in years; few are those left who know me by that title."
"Am I?" The wizard sneered, eyes scanning in satisfaction as the other circled him in slow strides.
"My magic knows you. Somehow I don't.” The wizard grunted, long blond strands fanning out into the air. The mage's magic was subtle, circling him slowly, and Valtor smiled, allowing his magic to seep into his pores in acknowledgment. “Who are you, stranger? Tell me, and I'll spare you what awaits the souls in my domain, what gods like me make of beings like you."
“Beings like me?” Valor laughed, cocking his head to the side. "I'm your soul's delight, child."
Pain launched himself at him hard, cold magic slamming straight into the wizard's chest, eating the material of the shirt he was wearing with swiftness and pressure and Bloom screamed, forcing herself to her feet. Her wings ached as she forced herself to fly, a warm shield covering the fairies still lying on the ground as cold magic spread through the air, an icy touch sucking the life out of the plants and beings it touched. The forest lost its glow, trees withering and disappearing into small, black, withered roots, life flowing from the green leaves to the blond wizard, power enveloping his body as he laughed, head tipping back in amusement and satisfaction.
His body, the body of hers witch, gleamed against the chill of the dark night and Bloom gasped as her eyes caught the glowing red shape on the back that she had touched so recently. Valtor's mark seemed far more alive on his own body than on those he placed under its spell. It looked warm, alive as if it were a part of him, pulsing as if it were his blood, his heart, taking all the space of his beautiful back into one hauntingly beautiful image.
“I made you, stupid creature.” The wizard sneered, back stiffening as his mark glowed on his body, bright enough that the faerie looked away for a second. “Everything you crave, everything you dream, everything you youIt's, it's mine ; you only exist because I gave you life. My name is in you long before your parents named you, Vega, son of Promethea.” Bloom gasped behind him and Valtor shot her a brief look, a smile tugging at his handsome lips as he stared at her.
“You - you - There's no escaping death.” The mage spluttered, eyes wide as the wizard breathed casually, pushing his hair back, too dangerous and deadly for the calm glowing on his face. “Everything that has life must die; all souls are mine to keep.”
"My life is mine and mine alone, child of the stars." Valtor pointed out with a smirk, "I am Valtor, Scourge of Realms, Guardian of the Stars, Bane of Darkar... And you..." The warlock snarled, jaw set, eyes satisfied. “You are nothing but dust.”
" You are real ." Pain, Vega ,sighed in a mixture of surprise and disbelief.
"Oh, I'm more real than a lot of things. You know, another planet, other people, and I'd let you live. I'd even applaud your efforts; very well played." The wizard laughed, cocked his head in mock sympathy. "But unfortunately for you, I'm a better player and there's someone in this fight very dear to me… And I just can't allow you to steal what I've already planned to take."
"My Lord - "
"Die." The curse slipped from the wizard's lips like a speeding drum, words rumbling against the earth and wind, and Bloom gasped, bracing herself against Stella as the magic proved too strong for her body to handle, babbling words she didn't even understand to the worried fairy.
Meters ahead, the tall, hard form floating in the air, hair blond hairs subtly darkening, Vega screamed, the sound swallowed by the rushing wind, a silent, frightened scream.
“Yes, everything that has life must die.” Valtor sneered, reaching out a hand to touch the mage's chin, hair flying as he took to the air, flying to reach the shape that begged half crooked in the heavens. “Would you not agree, Prince of Promethea?”
Dust billowed into the air, the haughty body crumbling in seconds, one last startled scream echoing as its form disappeared, golden hair disappearing into tiny, almost papery particles, fine as dust.
Below them, Bloom gasped, shivering against a startled Stella, the Solarian faerie dragging herself backwards slowly only to fall limp over her body at one look from the warlock.
"What did you do?!" The faerie growled, a relieved sigh cutting her lips as she realized the faerie was just sleeping.
“Oh, don't be afraid, little fairy.” The wizard laughed, dropping to one knee to grab her by the chin as Bloom screamed, pulling her to him. "Didn't you wanted to know who I am underneath the name?"
“How – how did you…?”
“I told you, didn't I?! Some things are more valuable in secret, Bloom of Domino,” the warlock sneered, pressing the faerie's wrist to his lips. “But I will give you this, as a parting gift: In your body runs the power of Valtor, prince of shadows. Will the Queen of Domino falter now, like the coward she never was, or will she accept the throne offered to her?”
"I -"
“I'll give you time, little fairy; time to recover, to understand. But I will haunt your dreams, I will take your steps and on your lips you will only taste mine, even if others take them in theirs.” The wizard murmured, pressing his lips against hers tightly, teeth nipping at the faerie's lips and swallowing what she uttered with a snarl with his lips. “As the world is reborn, as you raise your kingdom from the ashes to the royal majesty that belongs to Domino, I will wait in the shadows. Find the secrets of Vega; steal back the souls that belong to your realm, Queen of Domino and then sit on the throne of gold and in the throne of flesh you owns.” Valtor smiled, fingers soft against the faerie's soft chin. “Face the unknown, Bloom, and I will meet you in the stars.”
“What – did you do something to me?” The faerie shivered, eyes wide and frightened. “Was it me? Or - that night .”
"Oh no. " The wizard stated seriously, one finger lightly tracing the shadow of the girl's jaw fondly. “Not for a second, little fairy. Just you and me, and what's hidden between the two of us. But you already know that.”
"No I -" the witch stammered, her voice thin in a choked cry. "How do I know you don't - "
“Oh, I have little interest in controlling you, Bloom. I am not attracted to a soft and fake version of you, my love. Nothing should keep a queen bound, my dear, not even my arms.” Valtor laughed. "Even I must not limit your power and strength, Bloom. You are like the sun, warm, alive and powerful, and little pleases me more than to watch it shine by itself. Be safe about this; your will was yours and yours alone; it will always be.”
"Now," the wizard whispered, like a secret, "there are enough secrets on the playing field to give you everything you need. I got them all back for you after all, darling. Use them." The witcher smiled. "There is much more magic in you than you are willing to touch, Bloom. You are finally stable enough to tap into that new magic that has taken your heart, the core of your magical transformation. Break those stupid chains that was put on you. Try it, little fairy; one taste and you'll never want to let go." The wizard chuckled suddenly. "In the meantime, put the princess of Andros in her place, would you? There's only room for one queen and it's not her. Do it, or I will."
Bloom gasped in horror and Valtor smiled, bringing the fairy's slender fingers to his lips in a soft peck.
“Tell your friends about life and death, about the price you paid for them. Tell the world what you've done, fire fairy; tell them, that you fought and you win . Let them recognize that they are only alive because of what you dared to do, for what you fought with you hands and at the price of your blood.” The wizard murmured, rising slowly, one last soft touch against the girl's forehead, pushing the red strands behind the girl's ear. “ Let them know who you are.”
"What did you do?" Bloom gasped, looking at him in alarm. "Wha did I do?" The fairy babbled, eyes wide as he floated above the sky, taking distance between his body and hers slowly.
“A deal with the devil, my love.” The wizard laughed, the words echoing in the air as his form soared through the dark clouds, the wind ruffling his auburn hair as the fire faerie watched from the ground, wings trembling as his core trembled watching him disappear, a smile on his lips and magic up in the air. “And I will come for my price.”