Hi! So...I know what you're thinking; 'ember, no one cares about some random one-shot. Where's the new High Hopes chapter!' Well, I have a few excus...ahem, reasons for that. First, last weekend was my high school Mick Trial competition, so prior to that I wasn't really writing (for anyone who's on a mock trial team, can we discuss how ludicrously biased every witness for the prosecution is?). Second, it's the start of new semester, and I've been trying to stay ahead; that really isn't working though, since there's an unfinished Geometry assignment next to me as I type this...oh well.

Anyway, I don't really know where this little story idea came from. It's a bit drabble-ish, but hey; it gives you something to think about why I'm finishing the new High Hopes chapter.

Disclaimer: ...You know the drill. I own nothing, can't speak Italian, and would'e let the stupid Love & Pet toys go into a furnace. Stupid season 4...

Ashes of Ice

emberfire411

"You brought this on yourself, you know."

The voice coming from across the cell didn't startle Baltor; or, at least if it did, he didn't show it. The concrete slab of a bed he was laying on was cold and straining his shoulders, but his lazy expression made it seem like he was perfectly comfortable, as if the small space didn't annoy him and he didn't care that his favorite burgundy jacket was now no more than a tattered mess hanging on his body.

Slowly, his eyes shifted across the cell, coming to rest on the figure partially concealed by the darkness. "Did I now?" he asked, his voice slightly strained from disuse. "I thought the Powers that Be had it all planned out, and I was just along for the ride."

"Making jokes about something so serious. That's very you." The voice was soft yet clear, but Baltor knew it better than its owner thought. He could hear the nervousness; the hesitation that was once a rarity now seemed present during every confrontation. In each court session when she got up to speak about how awful he was, he could hear it. While most believed that this girl really wanted to see him dead, Baltor could tell the words were forced and rehearsed. It was a bad play going on in front of his eyes, and he couldn't leave the theater.

He sat up, leaning against the wall to help stretch out his back. "Why are you here, Bloom?"

Her eyes, two glowing sapphires in the darkness of the prison cell, narrowed and didn't make contact with his. "I came to help."

Now that was interesting. "Really?"

"Tomorrow's the last day of the trial."

Baltor nodded slowly. "I've heard. And that's relevant because…"

"How about the idea that it won't take the jury twenty seconds to find you guilty, never mind the two hours they have to start with?"

He shrugged. "And…"

She sighed in annoyance and finally stepped forward, heels clicking on the concrete floor. "They'll send you back to Omega."

The man rested his chin on his knee. "Yes, that would be the proper reaction to finding a dark wizard guilty of trying to enslave the magical dimension."

"You don't even care that you're so close to dying?"

He chuckled. "Omega doesn't kill you, my dear. That would just spoil all the fun of it. Trapped in a block of ice for eternity until you go crazy…"

"Or a band of already crazy witches busts you out." A touch of a smile was on her lips, as though she was trying to make light of the situation.

The sound of footsteps outside the cell shattered the almost friendly feeling in the air. Baltor gave her a look and she stepped back into the shadows where she wouldn't be seen. When she was out of sight, he leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes, pretending to be asleep. The sound of the footsteps came closer, and the darkness behind his eyelids became even more so, telling him the guard had stopped right in front of the cell. It was quiet for a few seconds, followed by a scoff and retreating footsteps.

After a moment Baltor opened his eyes. Bloom was looking down the hallway through the cell bars. "There won't be much time until he comes back."

He arched an eyebrow. "What do you suggest?"

"I'm breaking you out," she said simply. "I know all the back routes and the flaws in the security system. It may take some time, but we can put up an illusion spell, and before they figure it out I'll have you halfway to Earth."

"Why Earth?" He tried to keep the humor out of his voice.

"They won't expect to find you there. You can lay low and I can try and convince the courts that even though you've escaped you probably won't try to do anything…"

"I won't?"

Bloom rolled her eyes. "That's not funny."

"I'm not being funny."

She stopped moving. It looked like she was waking up from a nightmare, but the nightmare was reality instead of whatever was in her head. Her gaze fell to him, guarded for the first time in months. "I'm serious," she finally said, her voice careful.

"So am I," he replied, stretching lazily. "Honestly Bloom, what did you think? A few late night trips to Cloud Tower changed who I was? I was created purely from a dark ember of the Great Dragon's fire. Darkness will always be a part of me."

"But you said–"

"I'm well aware of what I said. And you believed it? I've lied to you many a time my dear; why not about this?"

Bloom backed up against the wall, as though she could reach an area of the confined cell where the words didn't reach her. "You're lying," she insisted, but he heard the nervousness in her voice and knew she was doubting herself. "I know you are. The Baltor I know wouldn't say it."

He did laugh this time. "The Baltor you know? Maybe I have a split personality."

"But you… you saved my life. Back on Tides."

"Where's the fun in killing an enemy you haven't properly introduced yourself to?"

"Cloud Tower. That kiss…"

"What about it?"

"You… and I…"

He raised an eyebrow, already expecting what she was trying to say. "You think one little night together changed a plan I had in my head for the last seventeen years? You really are more naïve than I thought, Bloom."

"You said you loved me," she finally whispered.

A small pang radiated from his chest, but he shook it off. "I did."

She looked close to tears, but still pressed on. "Did you mean it?"

He leaned forward and raised an eyebrow, his usual smirk crossing his face. "What do you think?"

Baltor felt more than saw her cast an illusion spell over the cell. The next second he was thrown against the wall and encased in fire chains that burnt what was left of his jacket and started in on his flesh. The pain was jolting, but he kept his composure. The Bloom in front of him now was much different than the one before; harder, angrier, and full of grief. "I hate you," she spat.

"You don't hate me. You hate how I play the game. You thought I wouldn't go as low as to manipulate your feelings, but you were wrong. I guess big, bad Baltor was worse than you thought, eh?"

She was shaking; Baltor was slightly impressed she was keeping her composure so well after having her heart torn out. "You'll pay for what you've done," she insisted, taking a few bold steps forward and looking him right in the eye. "Tomorrow they'll find you guilty and send you back to Omega for eternity. I'll still win this war."

He laughed again. "I will? Your presence here has made it clear there's a way out of here without alerting security, which I can take the moment you're gone. I could even wait for the trial tomorrow and make an even grander escape. Or I could wait until I'm in Omega and everyone's forgotten about me. I've escaped once; don't imagine I won't try it again. And once I do, I'll start the cycle all over again – going around the realms and stealing every spell book and source until I'm unstoppable."

"I've stopped you once. Why wouldn't I do I again?"

"You love me," he replied simply. "That's the best part of all of this. You're torn over the fact I've manipulated you, but you're powerless to stop it. Whether I escape tomorrow or three years from now, I now have the comfort of knowing you won't be a threat to me. You don't have the heart to kill me, which means you'll either stay out of my way or eventually succumb to me. So tell me Bloom–" he leaned down and looked right into her watery blue eyes– "who won the war?"

She exploded, unleashing all her energy. He expected it to hit him, but to his surprise found it attacked everything in the cell but him. Even as the chains on his arms faded and the smoke cleared in the room he saw burn marks on her shirt. She was shaking, tears rolling down her cheeks. He stayed calm and dropped down onto that uncomfortable bed again. "Kiss for the condemned man?" he asked in an overly sweet tone, a smirk on his face.

"Go to hell," she responded.

"But then you'll really never see me again."

She looked him in the eye, and he wondered for a moment if she really was going to kiss him. But just as it seemed she was going to cave, she turned away and vanished in a cloud of smoke and fairy dust.

The spells faded, but the sense of sorrow and despair still lingered. It would be interesting to see how she behaved in the court tomorrow, if she even came.

It would also be interesting to try to convince himself that what he'd just said to her was for the best.

I feel as a Sparxshipping author, I usually have to cut corners on character traits. Either I can give Baltor a heart and/or conscience so he can actually develop feelings for Bloom, or I can give Bloom a brain so she doesn't come off as stupidly Mary-Sue as the series depicts (and is slowly getting annoying. We have six other girls we can focus stories on. Six!). Sometimes I do both.

The point is, if something crazy like this were to happen in the real series, I get the feeling it would end up more like this. Baltor really doesn't have a heart; we've never seen him show remorse for anything he's done in the series, and he isn't above lying to Bloom. And Bloom...really, she's just an annoyingly naïve girl ('I think the Wizards of the Black Circle really have turned good after trying to kill us a dozen times; let's help them!' *Gag*) who easily could fall for a ruse like that and get her heart broken. Face it; given the standards of the Winx series, especially as a whole, Bloom and Baltor can't work. They're simply too different. I guess that's the angle I'm trying to point out here.

Anyway, I think I've rambled on long enough (I've been watching too much Nostalgia Critic this weekend). I hope you leave a review and let me know if you liked this, or if it inspired some kind of deep thought process (unlikely). I'd really appreciate it, and I'll try to answer any questions (New Year's Resolution; reply to reviews more, wither saying thank you or discussing content).

ember

P.S. - This is random, but I'll say it anyway; stop plagiarizing work. Authoress was telling me about a recent problem she had with someone taking Speak Now and turning it into a Victorious fic (with Tori and Beck as the pairing...eww). Don't steal. Get your own damn creativity in gear and write it yourself. Hell, get your literate-savvy best friend into writing something for your account. Just don't copy someone's work. Get creative, get a Beta, or get help in English.