Luna gazed sullenly at herself in the mirror.

Two days ago her innocence had officially died. Two days ago, Captain Saker had raped her after his men had cut a crescent shaped lump of skin out of her shoulder. And yesterday she had killed him.

Her beautiful tanned skin was washed out; her hair hung lifelessly from her skull and her blue eyes stared back at her like two shards of ice. There was no denying the toll that loss had taken on her.

But she could do something with this. She knew she could. She had a mine of beauty tips from Jasper and several free hours before she was due to meet Walter at the Monorail station. She decided to start with her clothes.

Her princess bodice and highlander skirt had been in a shade of light blue. She walked into the Sanctuary and selected a dark blue dye, and dyed the bodice and skirt in that colour, leaving the main bodice white. Then she selected some female highwayman's boots, and dyed them the deepest shade of black she had, before polishing them and putting them on. She browsed her collection of makeup until she found a set with dark lipstick, accentuated eyeliner and pale tones. She applied it, then turned her attention to her hair, which hung in soft brown curls from her scalp and nearly reached her thighs. She chopped it until it reached her shoulderblades, and then turned back to the dyes.

She needed a startling combination; one that said 'look at me, but careful, I bite'. She selected black and red, and dyed the main body of hair black, with red threading through it. Then she donned Blade's Sabre and the Guard, her lightning gauntlet, and sauntered out of the Sanctuary into the Mistpeak Monorail station.

Walter hardly recognised her as she made her way over to him.

"Walter," she said to him, and he jumped out of his skin.

"Skorm's dark arse- Luna, what did you do?" he asked incredulously. She laughed.

"Considering I got raped by mercenaries, I decided a new look was in order," she said, almost nonchalant. Walter gaped at her.

"How can you say that so…carelessly?" he asked. Luna shrugged.

"Cause I killed them all," she replied, and Walter sighed. This Hero business was really taking its toll on her. She was no longer the sweet, innocent girl with the shining, nut-brown skin who had left the castle crying. Luna had hardened and become almost…desensitised.

"I can never get over this place," he said offhandedly. "Twenty years ago it was a damp, murky hole in the ground. Now, people queue up to get dangled across it in a steel box." There was a sound of a whistle. "And here it comes. Most of the people here are going to Bowerstone, but we're making a little stop between there and here. I only hope we don't-something's wrong," Walter had begun to talk, but something caught his attention.

Luna had spotted it too. Coming from one of the wheels was a flurry of sparks and suddenly, with a boom, the wheel exploded. The other followed suit and the monorail car was pitched into the cavern below.

"No!" Walter hollered. Then he turned to Luna. "We have to get down there!"

As they emerged from the cave into a swamp, Luna mused quietly in her head that she was never getting into a monorail car for as long as she lived. She scratched her arm.

"Ah, that's much better! You can almost smell the sunlight! The damp, muggy, soggy sunlight," Walter told her, and she smiled, quickly hurrying to the Sanctuary to reapply her makeup.

"This is Mourningwood alright. I only hope the people we're looking for are still alive," he rumbled. Luna, wiping off her excess lipstick, looked at him.

"Why wouldn't they be?"

"Because come nightfall, this is one of the most dangerous places in Albion," Walter replied. Oh bugger, Luna's mind whimpered. "I don't know about dangerous, but I'm starting to get a rash; bloody swamp." Luna giggled. Walter smiled.

"I don't like that look on you, you know," he commented. "You look as though everything's against you and you'd kill the first person to get close to you."

"I'm feeling a little fragile right now, Walter," Luna explained. "I need something to make me look protective. Believe me, if I took this all off and wore my ordinary clothes I'd look like a victim. And that is not a look that befits a rebel princess." Walter nodded. Luna always had a reason for doing something.

An old fortress rose forebodingly out of the fog, and Walter visibly perked up.

"Ah, that must be the place up ahead! What I wouldn't give for a bowl of soup and a hot bath," he growled hungrily.

"Race you there then!" Luna trilled, and skipped ahead. Walter jogged to keep up with her.

"Oh no! I was outrunning men twice your age before you were even born, young Moon!" he joked, and sped past her. She laughed at her old nickname. 'Young Moon' and 'Little Moon' were pet names her mother had given her and sometimes Walter used them.

They both arrived at the gates, puffing.

"Cease your movement! Be you men or be you hollow men?" asked a guard above the gates. Luna and Walter looked at each other.

"Have you gone daft, boy? What does it look like?" Walter grumbled.

"Walter? Is that you?" the guard asked, surprised. "Open the gates! Tell Major Swift; Walter's here!"

The gates swung open and Luna stalked in, Walter just ahead of her.

Avo's feet.

That had to be the sexiest woman he'd seen in a long time. And he hadn't seen any women in a while.

He supposed her look was designed to scare people. It had the opposite effect on him. He was actually close to drooling when he looked at her.

She had pale skin and black hair shot frequently with red. Her eyes were blue and heavily accentuated with eyeliner, her lips were dark red and her clothes were a startling black, white and blue compact. He wanted to jump her.

Walter shook hands with Major Swift as his eyes roamed freely over the woman's beautiful figure, taking in every curve and hollow and slope, where the shadows changed and how those clothes were lovely and tight.

She was with Walter, so maybe his daughter? Nah, not Walter. There was no resemblance between them anyway. He tried to think where he'd seen that kind of a woman before.

It clicked. The posture, the face shape, the general glowing beauty; she was Princess Luna. She was a dead ringer for her mother. Same dark hair, pale skin and blue eyes. Blade had been a lover of hot pink, however, unlike her daughter. That must mean she was a Hero. He was suddenly very happy. All his life he'd wanted to meet a Hero, and now he had, and she was incredibly appealing. He watched and walked alongside as Walter and the Major chatted, and admired the way her ripped skirt hugged her hips and backside. And when the Major introduced him…

"Captain Benjamin Finn, your highness. Royal Albion army. At your service, as ever," he told her, bowing. He looked up. There was a glint in her eye and a smile was tugging at her dark lips. Next moment her blue eyes were like chunks of ice, but he'd seen the creeping blush across her face. She liked that. "Meet me by the mortar. I'll introduce you to private Jammy, so called because he's the luckiest sod in the fort." He turned and walked away.

He heard soft footfalls behind him.

"Ben Finn, hmmm? I suppose you aren't too bad," he heard her say. Her voice was not the seductive murr he had hoped. But at the same time it was commanding; regal and detached, but also with warmth buried there.

"I could say the same, princess," he retorted, and watched the flush sweeping over her face. Next second it was gone.

"Right then, Jammy," she was saying to the Private, "teach me how to use this bloody thing."

What a charming man.

He must be a complete scoundrel. That, and quicksilver between the sheets.

As the moon rose and the mortar boomed, Luna couldn't resist sneaking glances at him, admiring him. Every time she did, however, she found his eyes locked onto her. It was pleasant to know that she could still court someone, albeit with enough sexual tension to cut it with a knife.

And when the mortar fell silent and she was forced to jump down to fight on the ground, he was right next to her. As she aimed down the barrel of The Guard at the gate, expectant of the first wave of Hollow Men, she realised, almost with a thrill, that her right leg was hitched up on the statue of the bloke with the rifle, and he was crouching at her left. And sure enough, when she looked, his eyes were trailing up her thigh to that tempting shadow barely hidden by her ripped skirt. Oh yes, there was sexual tension alright. Her hands slipped down to adjust her skirt so that it was hitched up further, and now the skirt barely covered any of her lower half.

Wave after wave of Hollow Men fell, and he remained at her side, their fighting like a dance. The air was now thick with their own thoughts, dark ones, sweet ones, salacious ones. But they were grownups; they were expected to behave in a certain way and dammit, they were going to behave that way.

Dawn broke, and the call of victory was sounded.

Ben found Luna leaning against a wall.

"What are you doing here, princess?" he asked casually. She shrugged.

"Recounting memories," she replied. He took out his rifle and began cleaning and reassembling it.

"Well, don't dwell on them too hard if they're bad ones," he told her, "it's dangerous for the soul." She tilted her head to look at him curiously.

"Do you know that from personal experience or…"

"Yep," he said tightly, turning to look ahead and cussing when something jammed.

"Let me," she pleaded, and, leaving the rifle in his hands, she simply brought it closer and, with deft fingers, found the problem and continued to assemble it. Their fingers touched three times, and when she released it he just stared at his hands.

That was how she found herself jammed against the wall, blue eyes staring in wonder into blue eyes that reflected the mood. He leaned in closer and her lids drooped.

"Finn!" Yelled the Major's voice, and Ben swore colourfully before turning back to the princess.

"Talk about timing, Swiftie," he hissed, and let go of her. "Seeya," he told her roughly, and walked away.

Luna's hands were shaking and heat was flaring in her face.

That wasn't fair.