A/N: I'm back! Sorry this took so long. Chapters from here on out will be coming a little slower, since stuff is getting a lot more...complicated, and subsequently harder to write.

Much thanks to my betta Louie for editing this! And the constant encouragement of Kaiyella! And the support of all my lovely reviewers such as Angie, Wolfieliker, and NoIDontPostAnyStories! I'm simply incapable of writing this without you guys!

Chapter's music = Élan by Nightwish. Yum.

Élan: A feeling of strong eagerness; fire, vigor, vitality.

Frigid air billowed around us, scattering dust and small debris across the aged, cracked concrete. The warehouse rose before us like a monstrous, crumbling monument; its walls streaked with grime and graffiti, its busted windows like broken teeth. Even though all five of my senses were telling me that this was real - from the cold sweat that drenched my clothes down to the earthy scent of pine needles and moss - I still couldn't quite believe it. I was still afraid of waking up from this nightmarish yet heavenly dream, locked in a cage in the middle of an Unseelie war camp. But the bone-deep exhaustion from our hellish run spoke volumes about the realness of the situation. It had only been minutes after Tertius' earth-shattering news and seconds since we found the trod to this warehouse, the general collapsing it the moment we stepped through. We are in the mortal world, but it felt like I was in the twilight zone.

I pinched myself, bracing for this reality to give out beneath my feet, but it didn't.

"Machina is...here?" I ask Grimalkin again, briskly trudging after his barely distinguishable form. His grey fur blended too well with the bleak surroundings, and the lightning that flickered and rumbled amongst the roiling clouds above hardly made for a sufficient light source. Tertius sulked behind me, his brooding silence making it easy to ignore him. A vindictive part of me hoped he still felt the sting of my slap.

"Yes." The cat replied simply.

"Why? Why isn't he in the Iron realm?" I queried, "How did he even get here if he is near death?"

"If you really must know, Virus took him here to protect him. The Iron kingdom is no longer safe."

I swallowed with dread, remembering all too clear the terrifying pursuit out of the Iron realm, her lethal insect swarm right on my heels. If she didn't hate me enough before… icy fear trickled down my spine. Oh man. She's going to eviscerate me.

I rubbed my arms, already feeling her insects burrowing into my skin and turning pale with the thought."Why isn't the Iron Realm safe anymore? And, uh, don't know if you know this yet, but Virus wants my head. She's going to literally slaughter me on site. I'm as good as dead if she sees me. "

"Do not worry about her, human. The lieutenant is expecting you, and will not put an end to the only means of saving her king. She was the one who spared Tertius and sent him after you." What? I threw a venomous glare at Tertius, and he cringed as though I had physically struck him again. I didn't know what hurt more: the realization that he was taking orders from someone who wished me dead, or that the only reason he came after me was because of duty, not because he actually liked me. Being part fey and able to lie, he wasn't bound to that promise he made me. Unlike his blueprint, his vows didn't have to be taken seriously. Perhaps - as with the winter prince - the bond we grew was nothing but a sham, a convenient way to earn my compliance to easily complete his orders.

"As for the condition of the Iron Realm, " Grim continued, unaware of the torment his words brought. "A new king has taken swift advantage of your absences and has set himself on the throne. He has sent his best to hunt down and kill you and Machina in order to solidify his claim."

"What?!" I gasp, mind reeling. "Who? Who would do such a thing?" My mind raced, quickly thinking of the possibilities. Had a commander of one of the sectors taken over? I had only met them in passing during the wedding, their faces fuzzy in my memory. Was there one powerful and cunning enough to wrest control of the kingdom? Could it be someone we have never met before?

This was too much to take in. I needed to sit down, to process all that was happening; but I knew Grim would be quick reprimand me if I stopped moving.

Virus ordered Tertius to save me. Tertius lied to me. Machina is alive. Machina is alive and I'm going to see him soon. The revelation hit me again, and I almost lost my footing. And to top it all off, an opportunistic bastard slithered onto throne. How dare they! Who thinks they are qualified to rule over my people as they please?

The fierce protectiveness over my subjects surprised me. Wait. I'm not really their queen anymore. Which means they aren't my subjects.

"A false king hungry for power." The cait sith replied cryptically to my former outburst, "General," Grimalkin called. He had stopped before a hole that used to be a window, the panes of glass long gone. "Care to show us the way?"

Tertius nodded, easily vaulting through the opening. Grimalkin followed with the grace that was gifted to all felines, tail flicking before he daintily disappeared on the other side. I scurried through, more or less. The knight held out an assisting hand, but I purposely ignored it, landing on a metal grated floor with a heavy thump. I was utterly relieved my weary legs didn't buckle. I don't need your help anymore, Tertius, my inner voice seethed.

Not meeting my eyes, Tertius led the way without another word, shoulders hunched. Heaps of unidentified junk were scattered throughout the vast space before us, and I had to be extra vigilant to not trip on any of the obstacles. I was more than determined not to use the general as a crutch anymore, no matter how tired my legs were or how it increased my odds of face planting into the ground.

I voiced the next, perplexing piece of information that didn't fit into the puzzle."I don't get it. The Elder Dryad specifically said that we would all die if I didn't kill Machina. Why do you want me to save him?"

"That was then, and this is now. He is no longer a threat to us, and there is a greater evil we all have to unite against."

"You mean the false king?"

"Precisely."

"And the false king is more dangerous than Machina?" I couldn't help but doubt.

"Indeed. Therefore we need all the aid we can get."

Tertius disappeared into a decrepit hallway littered with fallen ceiling tiles, me and Grim following close behind. This section must have been offices in a past life; the faded placards that were nailed into each rotting door said as much.

The general stopped before the door at the end of the hallway; a sign in a different language dangled by one corner from the entrance's water-stained surface.

"This is where he is." He muttered, placing a hand on the knob. "Brace yourself. It's not pretty."

My breath caught again, my weakened legs threatening to give out for the hundredth time. I steadied myself against the grimy wall, closing my eyes, battling the freak out that threatened to boil over my self-control. This is it. This is really happening. How many murderers can boast of bringing their victims back to life? To right their wrong? Then again, how many conniving victims purposely plotted to have themselves killed by a certain person? The more questions that were answered, more confusing ones arose. There's so much I don't know, and nothing is as it seems.

Morals aside, should I even bring him back to life? Do I really know enough of the situation to make such a drastic move? I don't. but I have to trust Grim. But at the rate of people betraying me…. it wouldn't be surprising if he joined the action.

Now's not the time to question loyalties! He's loyal. He has to be. Grimalkin has as much stake in the Nevernever as any other Oldblood. He wouldn't be helping and Iron fey unless it was absolutely necessary.

But what am I supposed to do? And how can I save Machina? What makes them think that I can waltz right in and make everything right when I can't use a lick of glamour?

"Human." Grimalkin urged behind me..

I swallowed,"I don't know what to do Grim. I can't use magic at all."

"I know."

I turned around, glaring at the nonchalant feline. "And how do you suppose I can save Machina?"

"Have a little confidence in yourself, human." He blinked at me slowly, "The first rule to wielding glamour is believing that you can."

"I know." I scrubbed a hand through my hair viciously, "But I seriously can't. I used to be able to use magic, but it's physically impossible ever since I… defeated Machina. I don't know what happened. "

"Have a little faith in yourself." he said it in such a confident way that I suspected he knew something I didn't; like I had some hidden capability that only he was aware of. Although infuriatingly vague, his obvious conviction somewhat steadied my nerves. Grimalkin was never one to place his assurances lightly.

I had no idea what to expect, but what's the worst that can happen?

Machina can die for real…

I shoved that fear back. Focus Meghan! I can do this! I have to do this!

I straightened my shoulders, willing an icy calm to settle over me, taming the chaos of my mind. My nails bit into my palms. I am made of Iron. It's going to take more than a spiteful lieutenant and dying king to scare me.

I took a deep, steadying breath. "I'm ready." I said, more to myself than anyone else.

Tertius opened the door, and it creaked ominously to reveal the mayhem beyond.

The smell hit me first: something that could only be described as burning electronics and rotting wood, making me gag. There was a hospital bed in the center - a stark, clean contrast to the mold stained room. My breath caught. I could see Machina's limp, booted feet against the white sheets, his unmoving cables haphazardly dangling to the floor, pooling into disorganized heaps and knots. Virus was positioned at the head of the bed, her back to me and blocking the rest of my view. The lieutenant was almost unrecognizable. Her pinstripe suit sported millions of wrinkles and tears, her usually neatly styled wire hair in complete disarray. She was bent over Machina, and then I noticed the steady snip snip snip as if she was cutting away at...something. I treaded forward in a trance. I passed a table cluttered with hacksaws and gardening shears splattered with dark blue, oily blood. Virus finally turned around, pruners in hand. I could practically feel her savage glare scorching against my skin. But I paid her no attention. My eyes were only for Machina.

Oh god.

Bile rose in my throat. My hand fluttered to my mouth to keep from vomiting.

Machina was turned on his side, revealing the gruesome mess that was his chest. Thick blue-black blood oozed from his gaping injury, soaking into the sheets. Oaken branches with lively young leaves slowly grew and slithered from his wound like poisonous worms, their ends freshly cut. His normally pale skin had transformed into a ghastly grey. He had lost weight, and his eyes had sunk into his skull, cheekbones so prominent I was surprised that they didn't cut clear from his flesh. The king was a millimeter from becoming an unrecognizable corpse.

Part of me wanted to look away, to block that horrible image, but I refused. This is what I have done. I will not run from it.

No. I will fix this.

Virus grabbed my upper arm, ragged nails digging into me painfully. It broke me from my stupor. The look in her eyes made my stomach shrivel in fear. This was not just the ill-tempered lieutenant I was staring at. This was the biblical plague of locusts in human form. Something primal, an abyss that consisted of thousands of identical minds each thinking the same savage thought - kill.

"If you can't save him, you will regret ever coming into existence." Rasped Virus in a deep, buzzing voice. "I will throw you in a pit of my insects, and they will slowly eat you alive. For days. For weeks. You will be consumed by a never-ending torment until you will be begging me to kill you. You will forget what your intact skin ever looked like. Your marrow-"

"That is enough." Grimalkin leaped onto the footbed, tail swishing. "Threatening the human's life will not aid in this situation."

I had never been more thankful for an interruption.

It seemed to shake her back to her senses. Breaking her crushing hold on my arm; she leaned over Machina, cutting a few of the still-growing branches from his chest, discarding them into a trashcan overflowing with sticks and foliage. She stroked his face once, a simple yet possessive gesture.

I gulped, trying to refocus on the more immediate problem.

"Okay. So how do I do this?" I ask, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice.

Her eyes narrowed in disesteem and condemnation - perhaps just realizing that I actually had no idea what I was doing. "You can try kissing him awake, sleeping beauty style." Virus snarled sarcastically, voice thick with disdain - a return back to her usual self. But there was still that flat look in her eye, like half her brain was in the midst of a glorious fantasy about flaying me alive. "Or you can do something useful and use that glamour of yours to fix your fuck up."

"Thanks for the advice." I snapped, getting fed up with her hostile attitude. "Maybe I will try kissing him awake. You can watch if you like." I replied in kind, getting a vicious satisfaction from the jealous and rather murderous flare in her eyes. Why am I provoking a blood-thirsty fey again?

She giggled cattily, and the sound raised my hackles, "I should warn you, he only likes experienced women if you get my drift. He doesn't like his face getting eaten."

"Children!" Grimalkin hissed in irritation, "There will be no man to fight over if you continue bickering!"

I flushed in embarrassment, about to retaliate with a 'I'm not fighting over this asshole!' But the cat had a point, we were wasting precious time.

"You have the ability to walk in other's dreams, do you not?" Grim asked helpfully, almost condescendingly, "It would be wise to use that talent now."

Of course. I had a feeling that I could already do this thanks to my vivid dreams, but it was nice to have full verbal confirmation. "But I don't know how to do it willingly."

Siri pulled up a chair, and it was the first time I noticed her presence. A bandage with a dark red stain was wrapped around her head, her clothes as dirty and torn as Virus'. What happened to these two? I took a seat, scooting so that I faced the comatose king.

"You only have to fall asleep. You will know what to do soon enough." He blinked at me slowly once more. Yup. He definitely knows something. I rested my arms and head on the bed, almost touching Machina's gaunt face. Hesitating, I reached out to grab his deathly cold hand, hoping the physical contact would help.

Everyone was staring at me expectantly. I tried closing my eyes to block them out.

"Umm. It's kind of hard to fall asleep when I have an audience." There was a touch on my back, and I immediately slipped into oblivion.

I was surrounded in white - a blinding space that belonged to neither my mind nor Machina's. And she was there. My personal dream trespasser - the one who left little hints and images to guide me. The high priestess, I finally realized. The other one who haunted my presence as the seer foretold.

"You can't save him as you are." Chimed her musical voice.

"Whys that?" I whirled around, but of course, I couldn't see her. It was always disorienting to talk to a bodiless being.

"Mab has put a powerful binding spell on you. I can remove that." She sounded tired, like the very mention of the feat exhausted her. "I can help you access Machina's mind as well. But saving him will be risky - for you have not mastered your two types of glamour - and if you survive it will come at a great physical cost."

Well, Mab's binding spell would explain the lack of magic earlier. Truth be told, I wasn't surprised by the risk - but I would do anything to bring Machina back without a second's pause. But what did she mean by two glamours? I only had the useless summer magic that made me sicker than a plague victim when it did work. And didn't she want me kill Machina in the first place?

"Why do you want me to save him?" I ask the most obvious question first, hoping she would give me more information than Grim,"First you want me to kill him, and bitch me out for not doing it on time. And now you want me to risk my life to save his?"

"It's because of your failure that he needs to live." She explained, the first strains of aggravation coloring her usually majestic voice, "If he met his demise at the appropriate time, Ferrum would have left his tunnels to retake the Iron throne. Instead, Ferrum lingered in the tunnels for too long, and as a result found Machina's sister. His sister, Chrome, is a powerful being no one but Machina can stop, Meghan Chase."

My mind was working a million miles an hour, absorbing her words as pieces began clicking together.

Ferrum. That's who the false king is. The frail, almost pathetic deposed Iron king that I met within the tunnels. He was so weak, so miserable. Is he really strong enough to take over the Iron Kingdom and keep it? To even hold a candle to Machina's power?

Then there's Chrome. The one Machina had nightmares about, the one that teased the edges of my own dreams. Virus once said Machina was the only one more powerful than Glitch. If this Chrome was equal to Machina's strength, then she must be the mysterious murderer.

"You have inexplicitly given the enemy the greatest weapon of all." She interrupted my racing thoughts. "There's not much time now. You must save Machina before he is too far gone. Are you ready to accept your responsibility?" The light was growing dimmer around me, as if night was encroaching our sterile space.

"Wait! How am I supposed to save him?" I shouted to the fading light.

"By waking him up. Will for his recovery, follow your instinct, and your glamours will do the rest."

"How do I wake him up?" I yelled, perplexed.

"Remember your fairy tales."

I felt something inside me suddenly break, like a hammer striking glass, shattering into billions of pieces. Sound, colors, emotions from who knows where flooded my mind, threatening to drown me. I screamed,

The world fell into inky blackness, and I was alone.

Like a television getting turned off, the overwhelming sensation abruptly ceased. And, like a tv getting turned back on - but to an entirely different channel - I suddenly found myself in a completely different place.

I was on a rather odd beach. There was no sand, no rocks - all of the natural things that consisted of a shore were missing, replaced by books. Ancient hardcover tomes, paperbacks, both thick and thin and in every imaginable color littered the shoreline in either direction as far as I could see. Crystalline waters lapped against them, soaking their pages to morph them into puffy accordions.

I stared at my hands, flexing my fingers. I'm fine...but I feel different. More alive somehow.

My gaze snagged on a familiar regal figure. My breath caught.

He was there. I wasn't sure if he had suddenly appeared, or if I was too preoccupied with my surrounding and new state of...being? To not have noticed him before.

Machina's back was turned to me, silver hair spilling over his shoulders like a quicksilver waterfall, relaxed cables looking like roots splayed amongst the rabble of books. He was easily perched on a chair-sized volume in that casual yet elegant way of his, head bent.

"He stepped down, trying not to look long at her, as if she were the sun, yet he saw her, like the sun, without even looking."

His low, melodic cadence matched the steady lap of water, making my heart do funny things. It was the same voice used to describe Iron Fey politics while the sun crested over the jagged horizon; and the same one that ordered executions in that same unshakably calm manner. But something in it was different. I came around to face him, watching my step on the uneven ground as he continued."A very appropriate description of us, don't you think, little queen?"

He finally looked up from the book he was reading, unsurprised to find me. My hands trembled, but it wasn't in fear. It was elation. Machina really is alive. And he looked nothing like the starved corpse he was in real life. His milky skin practically glowed under the orcher rays of the setting sun; his black, long sleeve shirt clinging to that stupidly perfect physique of his. I wouldn't go as far as saying I missed him, but I did feel euphoric relief to see that aquiline face and feel his piercing gaze once more. There was so much I wanted to ask him, but I started with the most obvious, testing the figurative waters with my toe.

"Do you know where we are?" I ask.

"Well, that is a loaded question, my dear." He replied thoughtfully. "This place appears to be my childhood home. Chrome and myself grew up on these shores." A small smile warm with nostalgia graced his features. "It's where she grew her affinity for quotes." He sighed, "But, I know it can't be the same place. I remember dying. This must be some afterlife. Not a heaven or hell, but perhaps a limbo in which the morally grey find themselves in. It appears everyone was wrong about fey simply ceasing to exist after they die; we do have some semblance of an afterlife after all. An afterlife where illusions such as yourself to keep me company."

Unsure if I should interject and tell him that I was, in fact, not an illusion, he continued, "The Oldbloods are too set in their philosophies, never questioning their 'facts' they take for granted. For who can say who has an afterlife or not? Did an Oldblood die, then come back to life to reveal the truth? Did a human? And if they did, who can believe such declarations when they are subject to misinterpretation, and can't be substantiated with scientific evidence? Extraordinary claims need extraordinary evidence. " Machina shook his head, absently rubbing the worn pages of his book with a thumb, "But come my dear, have a seat, taste the wine." He motioned to the spot next to him, two glasses of red liquid materializing on a tome beside him as an impromptu table. "The sun is about to set, let us enjoy it together and speculate the oddity that is life and death."

Machina was so tranquil and open, something I didn't think to be possible of the ever bitterly cryptic Iron king. He had never talked about himself, nor let any personal information slip during our tense interactions. And now I know that he grew up on a beach and liked reading, his thoughts of an afterlife even. I could ask him any question, and he would answer honestly without a sharp comment or misdirection. There was no reason for him to hide his thoughts in his sliver of heaven. It was tempting to accept his invitation, to sit and enjoy his unguarded company and have a meaningful conversation like normal people do.

The bloated orb of the setting sun sank lower in the sky, looking more like an orange-gold moon than anything else. I wasn't here to sip wine and relax. I had a foreboding impression that the sun acted as a giant clock of Machina's life - its setting would mean his death. I had to get him out of here before it was too late.

I sucked in a deep breath, regretting that I had to break the first serene moment I ever had with him. Maybe - just maybe - a moment can happen like this in the future.

"Machina, this isn't the afterlife. You're still alive but in a coma, and I'm here to wake you up."

He had gone very still, cables motionless as lifeless vines. "For an illusion, you have an exceptionally unpleasant sense of humor."

Well, it looks like we're back to barbed insults. At least I'm in familiar territory now. "I'm not an illusion." I close the distance between us to kneel before him, willing him to believe that I was more than a figment of his imagination. His head was tilted, and I could practically hear his brain clicking away as he analyzed the situation. I sidled closer, gathering his limp hands in mine; hoping my touch could reach him even if my words couldn't. "Do I feel like one?"

The book he had been reading slid off his lap, falling to the ground like a broken bird. "You're real." He said flatly.

"Yes. And you need to wake up before that sun sets or you may die permanently."

There were many emotions I was expecting fear, astonishment, even joy at having a second chance at life. But Machina exhibited none of these. The news seemed a heavy and unwanted thing, his shoulders visibly slumping, brows furrowing.

"For once, I am at a loss for words." He murmured wearily, staring at our clasped hands.

"You don't need them right now. Just get out of here."

He shook his head, "You misunderstand, little queen. I have no desire to wake up."

"What?" I incredulously ask, tightening my grasp."You can't be serious."

"I am… It's peaceful here." He looks away from me, concentrating on some point over my left shoulder. "I have given you all, and now I am nothing. It is not necessary for me to return."

I still wasn't sure what he exactly 'gave' me other than insurmountable grief and guilt, but I could ask for clarification later. We are running low on time.

"One: I didn't want whatever the hell you gave me and two: you're an idiot." His eyes snap back to me. He was so lost and dejected, completely unlike the king I knew. I had to find that spark of insufferable arrogance once more, that will to live that had to be hiding under his dour thoughts. "You're basing your life on how useful you think you are to others. That's really depressing."

"And what, great, all-knowing queen, is the purpose of my life then?" He asked sardonically. Great. This is no time to have a philosophical debate. But he wasn't budging if he didn't have reason to. His self-preservation instinct was nonexistent at this point.

"I was sent here to help." I struggled to find a description for my dream trespasser. She had no name, and I've never seen her before. "There's this woman I have dreams about, but I have never seen her before. She helped me get here, and said you had a purpose."

He stiffened, onyx eyes narrowing, "And what purpose is that?"

"You have to wake up to find out." I said gently, deciding to withhold that information for now. When convincing a suicidal person off the ledge, you shouldn't tell them about their evil, rampaging sibling they have to stop, and potentially kill. His left eye twitched, as if reading the gist of my thoughts.

"So, little queen." He straightened a little, resigned, "Congratulations. You ruined my quiet passing into the afterlife. I can't rest peacefully when there are unanswered questions."

"You'll wake up?" I ask, elated.

"I didn't say that; I only said I won't rest peacefully, thanks to you."

"What?" I wanted to kick him in the shin.

He shrugged one shoulder, "Persuade me."

"I've been persuading you!"

The corner of his mouth quirked up, "Then keep doing so. Give me something more tangible."

Is he really playing a game with me in this desperate time? He was fishing for something specific. But what could it be?

The king is an Iron fey, perhaps he was looking for some indisputable logic; trippy visions didn't fall in that category.

"Grimalkin, the cait sith, even needs you alive." I hazarded, "That cat knows everything and probably doesn't like Iron fey either. He risked his life to get me to you, and he wouldn't do it for no reason."

"And?" He pressed. God, he was difficult!

"Look here, I hardly know what's going on. So if you're looking for a detailed report or a handy list of all the reasons you should live, you're not getting one from me."

"I know."

"Then what do you want to hear?" I huffed indignantly. His eyes narrowed once more at my inquiry.

"Something personal."

Personal? I paused, his words throwing me off balance. He wasn't looking for indisputable logic, a divine purpose. He was looking for a confession. My confession.

I fumbled, looking down. I was never the most graceful at putting my emotions to words, and this was no exception. We never had an open, honest conversation before - for we always hid behind our walls of ruthless antagonism. The concept of being open with an individual quick to mercilessly tear into you was daunting, to say the least. If I told him how I felt, would he be quick to belittle my pain, to somehow use the information against me?

But if candor was what he wanted, if his life cost a little chunk of my self esteem … I swallowed nervously.

"Wake up for me…I…" It's too hard to live on without you."…want you to live. If that counts for anything." I braced for the incoming snarkiness about my uneasiness, but it never came. I was surprised to feel his hands sliding out of mine, then a gentle touch at my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. I could read no harshness in his features.

"Has my absence been hard on you?" He asked inquisitively with a slight tilt of his head, zeroing in on my awkward half admittance. Machina was studying me intensely, as though the answer was etched into my face in a different language.

"Very." I reluctantly confess.

"Why?" His voice was absent of any sarcasm, honestly curious. "I treated you terribly. There's no reason why you should have an inkling of affection for me."

"You're right. You did treat me like shit." I retorted, perhaps a little too sharply. Turning my head, I broke the hold he had on my chin. "I'm not doing this because I like you; I'm trying to save your sorry butt because you're innocent. And you're needed." I paused, grinning victoriously as I remembered a crucial bit of information with blinding clarity. Bingo! I should have thought of this earlier! "And I need to exact my revenge on you."

"Revenge?" His eyes glinted with amusement.

"Do you think you can kidnap my brother, put me through living hell, and then just bail out without any consequence? I don't think so. If you think I was bad before, you're going to have a ball when we get back."

"And what makes you think I changed my mind?" He was giving me that sharp smile of his again, but it was more genuine than I ever remembered.

"Because I'm your queen, and I just so happen to specifically remember the terms of our deal." I practically gloated, "You said 'I offer my kingdom, my subjects, and myself to you', Your ass is mine." I claimed proudly, jabbing my finger at his chest.

He laughed, deep and rich and I took an immediate liking to that sound, "That hardly means you can control me."

"But it means I have some...claim over you, doesn't it?" I asked, now puzzling over the vague wording. What does offering yourself to another entail? Dammit! I thought I had him!

"Hardly." He said dismissively, "Although I think the more pressing matter is getting me out of here, hmm?"

"You'll wake up for real?" I asked, elated. Finally!

He shrugged half-heartedly. "If you insist. How does one do that?"

I held up my finger, "Well, uh, good question." He raised a skeptical eyebrow, but I plowed on before he could insult my lack of knowledge, "I asked that high priestess - or whoever that woman is - how to wake you up. She said 'remember your fairy tales'."

"I don't suppose she specified which fairy tale to remember." He stroked his chin thoughtfully.

"Nope, that's all she said. So I'm guessing we are looking for a pattern rather than one tale in particular."

He sighed dramatically, "I solved the riddle. You're not going to like it." I raised my eyebrows as an invitation to break the bad news. "Snow white. Beauty and the Beast. Sleeping Beauty. What do they all have in common other than pretty princesses?"

I groaned, "You've got to be kidding me. True loves kiss? Is this for real or some really cliché dream?"

He chuckled. "Both, actually."

"But we hardly know, well, really know each other."

"Didn't stop any of the others, love."

"Don't call me that." I snap, making his lips twitch with amusement. I glanced at the sinking sun. I didn't have time to whine all day, not if I was serious about righting this wrong.

"I've sacrificed my dignity to save your sorry ass once already. And now I have to do it again?" I mutter with exasperation, rubbing a hand through my hair."If you tell anyone or, god forbid, brag about this you're so dead."

He leaned forward from his book perch, our faces becoming inches apart."Oh, come on. Our first kiss wasn't that bad." I flinched. Right. The wedding.

"That hardly counts." The sun sank lower, half its bloated form dipping below the horizon.

"That's because you were no more than a petrified deer in the headlights. And just as responsive." I snorted. He was definitely right about that. "But now it's time for you to kiss me, princess charming."

"Fine, fine sleeping beauty." I grumbled, trying to remember the other tips my dream trespasser gave me. It's risky, there will be physical consequences. Will him to be alive. Follow your instinct.

There was nothing more to go on. I reach out tentatively, tucking a strand of hair behind his pointed ear - an ear that looked rather naked without the blue tooth. I definitely want him to live. I want it so much, it is a physical ache in my bones. I want us to start off fresh, with no lies and deceit between us; where he tells me all he knows and gives all the answers I crave. I want to give him a chance. I want him to give me a chance at being normal, civilized people.

He is waiting for me expectantly, watching me with those midnight eyes as though he was reading the torrent of thoughts in my head. The sun sank lower, throwing honeydew rays across his alabaster skin. There was a weird sensation in my chest, as though my heart started using my ribs as monkey bars to play a reckless game.

I closed the distance, tentatively pressing my lips against his. A thousand things happened at once. I felt his oh so soft lips part against mine, tasting the faint ozone of his breath. An electric current zapped through my body, making my hair stand on end and muscles tense. I instinctively knotted my hands in the silky tresses of his hair, pulling him closer, wanting him closer. More than one cable snaked around me, tightening as he crushed me against the hard planes of his chest. I was falling into the sky, into him, weightless, dizzy.

Live, damn it!

Amongst the overload of sensory information, something in me reached out and into him, a tangible response to my fierce plea. It took hold of the summer glamour that plagued his body, pulling the throbbing, lively force back into mine. When it was fully retracted, something cold and serpentine slithered beneath the surface of my skin of its own accord. It was colorless and cool, nothing like the warmth of summer magic or the brutal cold of winter glamour.

Is this… mine?

It coiled its way into him like mercury - I could sense the strange force weaving its way through the veins and machinery that composed his body. For a disorienting moment, it felt like the borders between me and Machina blurred; as if a part of my essence was twining into the glamour and subsequently into him. I- or the glamour- found his heart, stabbing into it with fervor.

He made a sharp inhalation of air.

And then disappeared.

I did it! He's alive! I thought light-headedly, feeling the world tilt and wobble. Or was that me doing the tilting and wobbling? That heavyweight of guilt I had been dragging around is no longer present, replaced by sweet, tingling euphoria. I feel so weightless, I could fly to the moon and back! I want to sing from the misty mountain tops!

Just when I was about to shout in triumph, I collapsed into blackness.

Don't forget to review and tell me what you think :B