Author: Denigoddess2001
Date: 3/8/02 11:35:04 A.M.
Date Finished: 3/14/02 7:07:30 PM
Saga: Angels Amongst Us
Title: Daystar
Episode: 14
Rating: R (adult language)
Characters: Daria -a Djinn, Timron -A Gargoyle, Tina -A Sanguine, Roger Mera -Grand Shien of the Linoma Garou.

Summary: Things sometimes look very different in the light of day. Sometimes, the best thing to do is just go home.

Disclaimer: Gargoyles: They don't belong to me. Bummer. They belong to the Great Gargoyle of the Galaxy (see Deniverse 101 lexicon). All original characters are faithful followers of their Deity, Denigoddess2001. All adoring praise, flamboyant flames and constructive comments may be sent to the email address listed above.

Many thanks to Puaena for her feedback and to MidnightzStorm. A mucho thanks to Christina Marie.

I'd like to dedicate this story to Dragel. MYMLUWU.



"I wished that we could have shared an eternity of sunrises together." His eyes closed. The rasp from his lungs was barely audible and he gave a small shudder. Then, Timron's head fell to the side.

"Timron...." Daria asked in a quiet voice. "Timron . . . TIMRON!" The anguished scream filled the Athenaeum. "No, sweet lord, no! Not like this . . . not like this . . . "

[I wished that we could have shared an eternity of sunrises together . . . ] The words rang like church bells inside her mind.

[...An eternity of sunrises . . . ] She now longed for those sunrises.


"Oh, Timron . . . you may have just saved your own life." She quickly laid him on the floor. She screamed at the back of her lungs. "Everybody, get back!"

No one paid attention to the hysterical woman yelling into the air. "Everybody, GET THE FUCK BACK, I SAID!"

The inhuman resonance of the otherworldly voice herded the crowd and police away like frightened sheep. She leaned over Timron's body. "Stay back, people. I need some working room."

"Daria, he's dead. I'm so sorry." Tina said quietly. "You can't bring the dead back to life."

"Ah, there's the loophole, baby." She cracked her knuckles. "He made a wish while he was alive and I have to grant it. I can, too. are a clever devil."

She folded her hands together. She chanted low within her chest. She closed her eyes and called upon the Magicks of ten thousand years. There was heaviness in the air that built like water pressure behind a dam. Everyone held their breath in anticipation. Then, she stopped and looked at them.


The room became bright.

Sunlight flooded through the windows.

Screams filled the room and several of the club's patrons spontaneously burst into flame. Daria smiled.

Golden beams of the rising sun crossed the dead Gargoyle's body. It seemed to hover over Timron for an endless eternity. Daria's hands were clasped tightly in anticipation as she eagerly watched the Gargoyle lying on the floor. She prayed to the Powers-That-Be that the loophole she thought she found was enough to restore this gentle giant to the life that was robbed of him.

A tail twitched.

Wings brushed against the floor.

A roar filled the room as Timron sat up and stretched.

Tina felt a sharp burning sensation on her skin. She ran immediately for the
welcomed darkness of the Ladies' room. Even the Sanguine suffered from sunlight finding their skin.

"Where am I?" Timron rasped. He stared out the broken window covered with Daria's blood. "What happened?"

"Don't you remember?" She asked sitting down beside him. The chaos around them seemed a world away as she looked at him.

"There was a dance, a fight...and then.... nothing."

"For the most part, yeah." She agreed. "You wished for an eternity of sunrises to share with me. That was your second wish and I granted it."

"But, I remember..."

"It was just a bad dream, Timron." She gave him a smile. "Don't even think about it."

"You are wonderful." He pulled her to him and pressed his lips to hers. "I am growing to like this custom of kissing."

"You and me both, fly boy." She chirped.

For several minutes, the duo simply reveled in the other's arms. Timron glanced out the window. "Daria, it's bright."

"It's daylight." She explained. "You asked for an eternity of sunrises. I guess that means you're flesh by day."

"But..." He stared down at four red talons. He looked around and saw his tail. "I'm still a Gargoyle. I'm not Human."

"You never wished to be Human. You wished for an eternity of sunrises with me." Daria cocked her head prettily to the side. "I'm just curious to see what other ramifications you wish will have. I've never cast such a big wish before."

"If I have an eternity of sunrises with you, then maybe you're free."

"I doubt it." She sighed. She held up her wrists and showed him to gauntlets fused around her wrists. "These were forged by Hephaestus in Oberon's forge using Mithral. Nothing can break these. They were parting gifts from that bitch, Titania. As long as I wear these, I'm a Djinn. Nothing can break these babies. Sorry."

"Oh, Daria..." Timron knew, even if she didn't, that her heart was with him for all of her days. He reveled and rued that revelation. His mate and he would have a few moments a day together for the rest of eternity. [Yet, will she spend the rest of it serving the selfish needs of others? Will she always be cursed to be imprisoned and enslaved to someone else?]

"Yes, Timron?"

"I love you." His voice was softer than a breeze in Spring. Talons entwined gently in raven curls. "I love you."


Shattered glass lay around them. Daria remained stock-still. The three words that had found no expression in her heart fell from the Gargoyle's tongue. Her mouth went dry as the words met her ears. Breath came in short, shallow pants as they made their way into her mind. She drew back and let his arms fall to his sides.

"You can't mean that." Daria shook her head.

"I know exactly what I mean." Talons gently but firmly gripped her to stop her physical withdrawal. "Listen to me, Daria. Whether we have an eternity or only thirty days: I LOVE YOU."

"You're out of season." She quipped. "Gargs only get a case of the hornies in October. I found that out from some of your books yesterday."

"Snooping?" He raised one brow ridge in question.

"Not...exactly." Velvet brown eyes fell to the floor. "I read the Tome of Tacitus."

"Then you know that lunar cycles and hormones don't control my heart. I am not controlled by my appendages." Misty green eyes deepened to jade as he drew her close to him. "With a kiss I felt the's a blessing from the Goddess, Daria. I never thought to find myself loving someone outside my kind. Yet, here you are: a gift from the gods and I praise them for it."

"Being dead has severely fried your brain, Timron." Daria scoffed. "Every heart has a mate in this world. I am yours. Give a chance to prove my worth and you would find me a beloved mate and protector."

"Hello!" She cuffed him on the side of his head. "Remember? I have one slight problem. I have an eternity-long commitment called a bottle. I can't just walk away from that."

"Then, we will find a way to free you."

"Trust me, Timron. I've tried." Tears welled in Daria's brown eyes. She turned from him and wiped away the betraying traces of revealing depths of love. "Titania saw to it that I'm enslaved as a Djinn for the rest of my days."

"Do you trust me?"

"What?" Daria turned in response to the strange question. "What do you mean, Timron?"

"Answer the question, woman!" He growled. He pulled her to him. "Tell me without thinking about it~ do YOU TRUST ME?"

"Y...yes." Was the soft, inaudible reply. "I do."

"Then, have faith in the powers-that-be with which we'll find a way to deal
this." Timron planted another chaste kiss on her brow. He found that he enjoyed this human custom of kissing. "There is a way to free you and we will find it. Be realistic and expect a miracle."

"You're a hopeless optimist." His hopefulness was infectious. "Deal with it."

"No, I believe in miracles. You're in my arms." He scooped her into his powerful embrace and carried her through the door. He walked past the startled police officers, piles of shattered glass and ashen remains of dead vampires.

"What about Tina?" Daria asked. "She's still in the bathroom."

His tail reached inside the leather pouch hanging from his belt. "Do you know how to use one of these talking boxes?"

"It's a telephone, Timron." She studied the small hot pink rectangle in her hand. "It's pink."

"It was Wren's." Could Gargoyles blush? "I know that Tina has one similar."

"If I open the door to the bathroom then she becomes a crispy critter." Daria nodded in understanding.

"Exactly." He brushed an errant curl from Daria's brow. "Call her."

It took Daria a few minutes to figure out the device. She had seen such marvelous technical wonders but had never held one in her hands. He gave her the instructions needed to bring Tina safely to Summerlands. With gentle coaxing from Timron, she managed to dial Tina's number. The phone rang several times.

"H-hello?" The voice on the other end was raspy and faint, but undeniably Tina's.

"Tina, this is Daria." She looked at Timron. "I'm sorry. I didn't anticipate the effects."

"I'm alright...just suffering from a bad case of sunburn."

"Timron told me to tell you to stay put. We're calling Wren and Demetrius next and they'll send help."

"Great." Tina replied. "Tell them to bring extra sun block."

The line clicked and abruptly went dead. Daria handed the phone back to Timron and she watched him put it away.

"Let's go home." He whispered softly. He took her hand and brought to his lips. "You and me, Daria."

"Home." She liked the sound of that word. For the first time in twelve centuries. She knew she had found her home in Timron. "I like the sound of that."

"I thought you would." His head cocked to one side and strong Gargoyle features were gentled with a broad smile. His misty eyes softened as he stared down at the Djinn who had enraptured his heart. "I know I like the idea of sharing a home with you."

His crimson talons clicked against the broken glass and concrete as he made his way to the motorcycle. He sat Daria down and reached inside the traveling compartment of the V Rod. He pulled the amethyst flask from the compartment and tucked it securely into his belt.

"Timron, what are you doing?"

"Are you afraid of heights?" He asked with concern.

"Not with you." She gave a smile. "Not one bit."

His tail wrapped around her waist and as he pulled her to him. He made his way to the side of the white stucco wall and began to stone climb to the roof. She clung to the climbing Gargoyle and flashed him a wide-eyed stared. "You ditwad! What do you think your doing!?"

"We're going home." He gave her a broad grin. He stood easily on the edge of the building.

"In broad daylight?" She nearly shrieked. "How can you see? Have you ever flown by day?"

"No." He took a leap off the building. He turned into the East toward the Summerlands Estate he knew only to be a few miles from their present location. A thousand knives stabbed his eyes as a blinding brightness met his keen night sight.

"Menash Kah. Eminah sobeh'neim Sol delmu kenach radeaux." Timron vociferated harshly and turned his head. Daria's brows rose slightly in surprise. [Whatever's he's saying, he sure as hell isn't a happy camper.]

Daria felt an abrupt dip in their glide as he turned away from the bright morning sunlight. Her heart nearly stopped in her chest as she saw a rather large billboard coming at them at great speed. She felt them fall at a rapid descent. Somewhere, her ears heard a piercing scream. Harsh impact sent the duo sliding along a hard white surface until they landed unceremoniously upon ice and snow.

Cold and bruised, Daria lay stunned against the pole of the billboard while she tried to gather her wits. The wound on the back of her head throbbed with exposure to the frigid cold. Silence fell around her and was broken only by the roar of the occasional passing car. Cold, icy snow seeped through her blue jeans and froze the denim to her skin. When the stars and flashes cleared from her eyes, she realized that something wasn't quite right.

"Timron?" She called tentatively. She looked over to find a crumpled heap of talon and wing in lying only a few feet from her on cold, gray asphalt.

[ASPHALT?] The word screamed inside her mind. Pure, unbridled terror coursed through Daria's aching limbs when she saw Timron lying lifeless in the middle of the highway. She attempted to get to her feet.

Her ankle had other ideas.

"Shit! Shit! SHIT." Her holler of pain echoed in the cold morning air. She fell back against the pole clutching her ankle. Hot, scalding tears poured down her flushed cheeks as searing waves of pain pulsed in her foot. "Oh, God it hurts!"

A distant roar sounded from the left. She turned to see headlights on and she recognized that rumbling well. It was a semi truck. Daria watched mutely as the moving monstrosity barreled over the hill with expeditious alacrity. She called desperately for Timron to get up but he never responded.

She heard the horn of the truck cut through the air and the screeching of rubber on asphalt as brakes locked.

Velvet brown eyes locked on the lifeless figure lying in the middle of the road. She blinked. "MOVE, damn it!"

The truck barreled over the spot where Timron lay. The driver noticed a red pile of something laying in the road and the next moment . . . nothing!
Daria watched passively as the truck sped by her and the unconscious Gargoyle lying beside her. Her body throbbed with severe pain. She knew that Timron's crash into the billboard made her head wound worse. She surmised that she had sprained or fractured her ankle in the fall.

She mumbled a few words and the torment assailing her body faded. Daria rose to her feet and stiffly walked to where Timron lay. She blinked and the excruciating headache vanished. Fingers felt the base of her skull where she had impacted with the window at the Athenaeum. There was no bandage or wound. Daria knew she was stretching the rules using her Magick so overtly on herself.

"Fuck it." She snorted. "Titania's not going to check on me. She hasn't in a thousand years."

Daria knelt beside Timron. She carefully rolled him onto his back. Trepidation filled her as she placed two fingers to his neck and felt for a pulse.

Strong and steady the essence of life pounded a rhythm beneath her fingertips. Trepidation became relief when misty green eyes opened to stare dazed at the beauty sitting before him. "Remind me to buy a pair of sunglasses?"

"What?" She shook her head in confusion. The severity of the impact had surely scrambled what was left of his brain.

"Never look into the sun."

"No doubt, Sherlock." She guffawed, half-relieved that he appeared uninjured. "Are you okay?"

"I will be. Give me a moment." Timron saw his ladylove gently rubbing the back of her head. "What about you?"

"Just a minor headache." The understatement fell from her lips with amazing ease. [I'll be fine . . . in about a month.]

Timron hesitantly flexed his wings. A low growl escaped him as he cringed. Daria's eyes traveled the extent of his lengthy wingspan and saw what caused the crimson warrior so much pain. Somehow in the fall, he incurred a rather large tear in the platinum membrane of his wings. The separation of fold from strut meant that gliding was impossible.

"I am sorry. We're going to have to walk."

"Not on my watch, Timron." She reached for the pouch on his belt. "Do you still have money with you?'

"Yes?" He drawled slowly not quite understanding Daria's strange line of questioning.

She pointed to a park bench just a few yards up the road that read: Yellow Cab 477-4111. She gave him a crooked grin. "Ah, you're going to learn about the finer luxuries of PUBLIC transportation."

Confounded by her words, he watched as Daria stepped to the shoulder of the busy highway. She watched as a variety of cars shot by them. The protective instinct she inspired demanded that his tail pull her away from the roadside. The dancing orbs floating before his eyes left him both blind and perplexed. Timron silently cursed the brightness of this mysterious midnight sun. He noticed through the annoying flashes of light that Daria waved her arms wildly.

[What is she doing? Has she lost her mind?!]

"TAXI!" She roared with a ferocity that would have rivaled that of any Dame. A zooming yellow vehicle screeched to an abrupt halt. The smell of burnt rubber and exhaust gave the Gargoyle a cloud of fumes that sent him into a severe coughing fit.

Daria grabbed him by the wings and patted him on the back. "Suck up, Timron. We have a ride."

The sensitive area where wing and back joined felt her light blows and caused him further anguish. Each pat burned a mark into his back. She returned her attention to the yellow vehicle and opened the back door.

A gravelly voice and the stench of a stale cigar assault the Gargoyle's astute senses. "Where to, Lady?"

"994th and O'Kault in Sam Hain." She hoisted the gagging Gargoyle to his feat and unceremoniously escorted him into the cab.

"What in Blazes is that thing?" The cabbie growled. She turned to see the ice-blue eyes of a Garou staring back at her caught in mid-change.

"You got caught by the sun too?" Daria asked.

"Damn straight." She noticed that his nails were more like claws and that his hands were heavily covered in fur. "Someone's working the Magick hard and there are a whole lot of people pissed."

"Really?" Was her innocent reply. "That's what happened to my friend here. Sunlight got to him."

"What is he? He ain't no vampire."

"No." Daria cast poor hacking Timron a pitiful glance. "He's a Gargoyle."


"A Gargoyle."

"You mean like those bat-winged dude in New York?" The Garou appeared fascinated. "Yeah, I heard about them. I thought there were just myths."

"I thought Werewolves were just myths." She smirked. [He looks more like a Siberian Husky than a wolf.]

She was met with the faint flash of amber and a growl. "Callin' me a werewolf is like calling a Farmer a redneck or a Black person col-"

"Sorry!" She held her hand up in quick apology. "I'm new in town and I'm not exactly up on what's considered politically correct in the Preternatural community."

A horn rudely honked behind them. He glanced over his shoulder and gave the driver at the back of him the infamous one-finger salute. "Damned elves, they think they own the damned highway. Okay, you're up shit creek."

"Shit creek?" Timron managed to gasp between coughs. "Where's that?"

"We're up to our tails in Manash Kah." Daria gave him a wry look.

"That bad?" He asked grimly.

"Uh-huh. Pretty much." [No since sugar-coating it.]

Timron finally found a desperately need breath of air to clear his lungs. He studied the strange creature driving the taxi. A wolf-like creature wore a Herbie Husker hat and had ears sticking out like a Samoyed. Dark fur adorned the sides of his face while his snout and the front of him became milky white. The Gargoyle leaned forward and inhaled deeply. The strong scents of moss, forest, and meat filled his senses. The driver certainly was unlike any creature that he had encountered.

"So, your buddy's a Gargoyle?"

"Yup." She replied shortly.

"So, what are you? You don't look like an Elf. You're too tall."

"You got that right." Daria leaned forward on the front seat. "Actually, I used to be a Fae and got turned into a Genie."

"That's a new one." Blue eyes glanced at her reflection in the mirror. "You mean like a Sprite or a pixie?"

"No, those are distant cousins." Daria resisted the urge to rub the cabbie behind his ears. "I'm a Child of Oberon."

"Oh, shit! Not another one!" The driver groaned. "You people are takin' over the entire city."

"Hey, I won't call you a werewolf if you don't make comments like that." He flinched at her sharp rebuke.

"Touché', lady." He gave her a sheepish grin in the rearview mirror. "What's your name?"


"Daria what?"

The Djinn paused at that moment. A look of bewilderment crossed her features. [I've never needed a last name.]

"Uh..."Her mind searched desperately for a name.

"Damson." A voice cut in on their conversation. "Daria Damson."

"Weird name." The cabbie shrugged and shifted his gaze to the blinded Gargoyle. He saw a Gargoyle crouched in a ball in the back seat with a taloned hand covering his eyes. "What's wrong with your friend?"

Daria heard a low moan come from her protector. She laid a hand on his wing-cloaked shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"My eyes." Came the groan. "I have a splitting headache."

"You've never been in daylight, have ya, boy?" Daria noted the faint concern in the cabby's voice.

"No." He groaned. "Not like this. It's much brighter here in Linoma."

"Don't worry. You just have Sunlight Syndrome." The driver leaned over to the glove compartment of his taxi. He also swerved across five lanes while doing it. He deftly opened the compartment door and tossed something black into the back seat. "No problem. Check these out. They might help you."

Daria quickly took the black thing in hand and opened it. "Sunglasses."

"He needs 'em more than I do." The cabbie gruffly replied. "They're even the Gargoyle brand."

"Talk about good luck." She carefully slid the shades over Timron's closed, watering eyes. "Give those a try."

He slowly opened up one eye. Everything appeared dark with an amber sheen. While the view was different that what he expected, it certainly was a dramatic improvement over the blaring brightness robbing he of his sight. Cautiously, he opened another misty green eye. The world greeted him in a wash of amber. The glare was gone but all remained clear. He slowly sat up in the back seat. "That's getting rid of my headache. Thank you."

"Keep 'em. They belonged to an ex of mine." The cabbie returned the conversation to Daria. "Now, where were we? Oh, said your last name was Damson. Is that French?"

"Persian, actually." She leaned over the rapidly recovering Gargoyle. Her voice came out a harsh whisper. "Damson? Where in blazes did you get that?"

"Damson is another word for purple, Love. And it seems to be your favorite color." His eyes twinkled merrily as he watched a smile form on her face.

"I like it." She nodded as whispered the name on her lips. She looked at the canine cabbie. "What about you?"

"Name's Roger." He tapped the plastic identification tag hanging from his mirror. "Roger Mera."

She studied the picture swinging from the rearview mirror. It showed a man in his early forties with cheerful blue eyes and salt and pepper hair. His face was round and his cheeks were flushed. An eerie familiarity filled her as she studied the image. "Do you know Lysander?"

"Know him? Lady, I work for the man."

"You work at the Athenaeum, don't you?" Wariness wrapped around Daria in tightening spirals.

"I'm the bartender there." He gave her a broad toothy canine grin. "Do it every Friday and Saturday."

"I thought I recognized you."

"Aren't you Jorn's girlfriend?" He asked.

"Hell, NO!" Daria wanted forever to erase Jorn from her memory. "I was just his Genie. He was an asshole."

"Was?" Jack's eyes gave her sharp scrutiny.

"Uh, yeah." She hedged trying to find the right words. [Oh, well. In for a for a pound.] "He's dead. He started a fight with me and my friend here and another friend dusted him."

"Ouch." She saw Roger flinch. "Lysander is going to be pissed."

"I know." She wasn't looking forward to the earful that she'd receive from the Vampire the next time she saw him. "The Sovereign is going to have his head on a pole. The kill wasn't convocated."

"Self-defense, right?"

"More or less." Daria saw Timron's tail twitching nervously at the turn in conversation.

"So, what about you?" Roger focused his attention on Timron as he suddenly switched lanes and flipped off another irate driver. "What's your name?"

"Timron." He replied curtly.

"Timron what?" Roger's canine curiosity prompted more information.

"Nightkind." Daria blurted. [I don't know if this Roger can be trusted.]

"What brings you to Linoma?"

"Family." The brief response did nothing to warm Daria's cold hands.

"He has a ...cousin that he's visiting."

"Hey, I remember now!" Roger's smile widened as he studied the winged warrior. "You're with that Demetrius guy the other night in the parking lot. Are you two related?"


"He doesn't say much, does he?"

"No." A Gargoyle and a Genie replied in unison.

"Hey, you guys helped us out." Roger hit the steering wheel. "You people come in some time and have a drink or two on me. I've been wanting to see Jorn gone for a few decades now. As long as I'm working, you'll always be welcome."

"Uh, gee thanks." Daria squirmed uncomfortably in her seat.

"Hey, kid. It's tough being 'preternatural' as you put it. We have to stick together. Humans crowd our hunting grounds. They hunt the vamps. They take away the wilderness areas of the elves. Now, they're going to call hunting season on Gargoyles. You can't have too many friends...even if they drink blood or howl at the moon."

"You have a point."

He pulled in front of the gates of the Summerlands estate. "The ride's on me. Better get inside before you're spotted. You need help, just tell people you know Grand Shien Roger. You won't get no hassles after that."

"Thanks." She waved shyly as she and Timron stepped from the car.

They watched Roger and his golden chariot drive into the morning sun. Timron glanced at Daria and shrugged. She said nothing. She felt a sharp prick on the inside of her wrist. A small cry of pain escaped her.

"Daria, what's wrong?" Timron took hold of her wrist and examined it. He turned it over and found warm drops of violet lifeblood flowing in a delicate stream along one of her broken Mithral gauntlets.


"Daria...I thought that Mithral was indestructible." He spoke quietly and held up the gauntlet for her inspection.

Her eyes widened in realization at his words. "This can't be. They can't just...BREAK."

She held up her wrist for closer scrutiny. The crack went from end to end along the bracelet. Without a word, crimson talons dug underneath the crack and the twisting of metal echoed in the morning air. Timron took the misshapen Mithral band and tossed it nonchalantly in the ditch. He swiftly looked at the other. A bellow of frustration followed the dying echo as his eyes fell upon the other shackle. It remained intact and unbroken.

"I don't understand... what broke one and not the other?" Daria shrugged helplessly. "This can only happen if Titania's spell is being broken."

"How can it be broken?" Timron asked. Talons dug into tender skin. "Tell me."

"Titania's spell holds the key. But, nothing can break it. In twelve hundred years nothing has work."

"Say them for me." He gently shook her. "Do it now."

"Okay! Okay! Don't shake and stir me, I'm not a martini." Daria cleared her throat and brought forth the words that had held her captive for over a millennia.

"Of Vanity and conceit are you composed
And vanquished heart it is supposed.

Your words are bitter and full of scorn
Because of your vainglory worn.

You have committed treason against your queen
And her honor you have viciously demeaned.

The price exacted for your vanity's crime
Shall outlast the longest reaches of time.

Within this flask shall you be bound within
No longer Fae but forever Djinn.

Serving the whims of those who are full of conceit
Let you find humility within your defeat.

Let your vanity hold you longer than time
And confine you within the bottle's paradigm.

And be forever bound in your new home
And let love bring you a heart of stone.

When rocks can love and speak of it sweetly
Then will the spell come undone and set you free."

Timron cloaked his wings about him and brought his tongue gently upon the laceration on Daria's wrist. The sweet, moist warmth of his kiss sent shivers of delight through her arm even as it stung from the cold morning air touching the small wound. She watched as the gash slowly closed. It scabbed and then became a bright pink upon her flesh. She watched in mute fascination as the pink line vanished from her sight within a minute.

"It's an ability we keep secret." He pressed two talons to her lips. "We can heal with a kiss."

"Wow. I thought I had a cool bag of tricks."

"When rocks can love and speak of it sweetly... The will the spell come undone and set you free." He repeated the last lines of the spell. "I'm a walking rock pile, Daria. You know how I love you and I will tell you all of my days."

"Then why is the other manacle still secure on my wrist?" She asked sadly. "You told me of your own will that you loved me, right?"

"Yes, I did." Scarlet tendrils entwined in raven curls. "And I'll say it a thousand time...and I think you feel something for me."

"Timron...I'm just not sure what to make of all of this... you saying you love me, the you think it has anything to do with the broken gauntlet?"

"I wish I know." He took her hand in his and held it fast. "I only know that I love you."

"Oh, Timron...nooooo!" She clasped his hand over her mouth. "You didn't..."

"What?" Alarm grew in velvet brown eyes. "What's wrong, Daria?" He saw her look away. He captured her chin and firmly redirected her gaze so that she was forced to meet his. "Tell me, please."

Her eyes became wet and a sob escaped her. "I have to grant your third wish. You wished to know why only one gauntlet remains. There's only one person who can answer that."

"Daria, I didn't mean it like that." Timron cloaked her in his wings. He brought a hand over her mouth. "Forget that I said it. It was a slip of the tongue."

The Genie brought her hands together. "I'm sorry, Timron."

She whispered ancient words of Persian. An amethyst mist surrounded the duo so thick that neither could see beyond the heavy smoke. Timron felt a sensation pass through him as though lightning was shocking him. His tail quickly wrapped around Daria's waist and drew her to him.

"If you're bound, then I'm bound with you." He brought his lips to hers.

The mist cleared. Timron stepped warily in front of Daria. He looked around and recognized immediately the surroundings. Rich, ornate tapestries hung from stone walls. The scent of incense filled the air and Magick he longed for surrounding him in a welcoming embrace. He was home.

"By the Dragon, Daria. We're here."

They were in Oberon and Titania's throne room.




Menash Kah! "Flaming shit! Curse the blasted sun it's fucking bright."

Delmu- possessive pronoun "it". This is always used for an inanimate object. It is never used to indicate ANYTHING living.

Re'Halbadou- there is no exact translation. It is a flavoring word and often used as a curse word amongst the DeMahri. It seems to be close to "fuck/fucking/fucked."

Eminah- To Curse or to condemn i.e. "Damn it." "Curse you."

Grand Shien - French for "Big Dog". Official title for the Alpha Male/ leader of the Linoma Garou, Roger Mera.

Menash Kah! -"Dragon Dung" or "Flaming Shit."

Sobeh'neim - a flavoring word often used to exaggerate or embellish the degree of greatness of the word it precedes. For example: "Bloody Hell" in English translates "Sobeh'neim Hades" in DeMahri. "It's the Bomb" also would translated as "Sobeh'neim Lil'peltau" meaning "it's very good."

Sol -Sun, daystar