Here we are, at the end of all things. No, it's actually just the end of this fic lol sorry. Anyway, thanks for coming on this wild ride with me, and I'm sorry I kept you waiting so long. Love you all.

Oh and thanks to my lovely beta allthebellsinvenice! I love you!

Sherlock moaned as the pain of his forced transformation wrecked his senses. Irene stood over him, smiling coldly as he whimpered, coming back to himself in his human form, blinking owlishly in the light of day for the first time in years.

"Now, why don't you tell me where she is? Surely you don't want to take her punishment for her. You know what it will be, don't you? You know the pain that awaits whoever kindles my wrath."

Sherlock raised his head, unable to stand but unwilling to cower at her feet.

"I don't know and even if I did, I would never tell you where my love has gone."

Irene went perfectly still and glared down at him with icy eyes.

"Your what?"

Sherlock swallowed thickly but answered her with a strong voice.

"My love. I love her and will not see her harmed."

Irene took a step back and raised her hands, a smile still frozen on her beautiful face.

"Well then, let's see how long your love will last while I'm slowly burning you alive!"

Sherlock winced as the spell left Irene's hand and burned itself into his body. He stubbornly kept his mouth shut, refusing to let the fairy see the pain he was in. The spell, one of the black magic, was ingeniously designed to burn a mark into his flesh. In essence, Irene was branding him as hers. He clenched his jaw as more of the spells flew through the air, landing on his body and beginning their job of burning into his body. One hit the area above his heart and Sherlock screamed aloud, the pain unbearable. His nails scrabbled at the place as he vainly attempted to remove the marks that would mar his skin until he died.

Which might not be that far off, he thought ruefully as Irene's demeanor grew more and more agitated.

"Take it back, Sherlock! Take it back or so help me I will kill you now and leave your princely body lying on the ground for the wolves. The birds will pick at your bones! Take it back NOW!"

Sherlock screamed again as another spell found its mark, searing him.

"No! I won't! I love her and I won't ever stop loving her! You've lost!"

He roared as a particularly vicious spell hit his cheek, burning his face with its magical heat. He closed his eyes against the pain and waited. Suddenly, all was quiet and a growing light shone behind his lids. He assumed that Irene was gathering her power for the final kill and pictured Molly, wanting her to be the last thing he saw before death.

But no pain came, no more burning of his flesh. Instead, an enraged cry from Irene and a blindingly white light. Sherlock covered his face instinctively as he opened his eyes and looked in the direction of the brilliance. And there, standing in the glow, was Molly.

Molly glanced to Sherlock, furious as she saw that he was whimpering from pain and that angry red and black burns dotted his beautiful ivory skin.

She raised her sword and took a defensive stance as the fairy whirled to face her.

"Leave him alone!" she shouted, walking herself around to stand in front of Sherlock.

"Well, well, the idiot girl appears," Irene sneered, hands on her hips. "This… thing… is what you so vainly tried to protect?" she mocked Sherlock.

"Molly," Sherlock whispered, as if afraid his voice would crack if he spoke any louder. "Molly how…?"

"Mycroft sent me," Molly said, loud enough for both Sherlock and Irene to hear. "He sent me back to end you," she said, pointing her sword at Irene. She wasn't nearly as confident as she tried to appear, suddenly terrified that she was facing down probably the most powerful being in the known world at that time.

"Oh did he? Well after I dispose of you and your prince, I'll pay Mycroft a visit and end his wretched life for thinking he could so easily be rid of me."

Molly took up a defensive stance again as Irene's hands began to glow with spells. As they left her hands and flew towards Molly, Sherlock tried to get around her to protect her but she took a step forward and parried as Mycroft had shown her, the spells flying off the blade to embed themselves in the wall, burning marks into the stone. She swallowed hard as Irene growled in fury.

"I see you have an enchanted blade," she said, calming enough to smile balefully at Molly. "Mycroft should know that even the strongest blade will break under the power of my spells."

She sent more flying through the air and Molly had to take a step back under the force of them. One ricocheted into the window, shattering the glass. The falling glass made Molly move from her defensive stance and Irene swatted the sword from her hands, rending it in two white hot pieces. Molly gasped and leapt after it, heedless of the shards of glass piercing her body as she dove for a piece of the sword. Irene hit her with a spell as she grasped a piece of the sword and Molly was temporarily blinded, sound and vision gone for a moment, then coming back slowly, everything fuzzy.

"… and now that she's dead, you'll pay for her arrogance and your brother's! I'm going to end your line once and for all!" Irene shouted, standing over Sherlock who was once again screaming in pain.

Molly staggered up to her knees, her head feeling heavy. The sword was far from her and she spied a large shard of glass just to her side. She picked it up and gripped it, ignoring the shooting pain up her arm as it cut into her hand. She slowly stood, swaying on her feet like the drunkards in the tavern in town. She crept up to Irene from behind and just as the fairy raised her arms to deliver the final blow to Sherlock, Molly spoke.

"You should never turn your back on an enemy," she said, ducking as Irene whirled around. She popped back up and drove the shard into Irene's chest, just above her heart. The fairy screamed, a deafening screech as she turned black as coals and seemed to burn from the inside out, a fitting end for her treachery. Her body collapsed to the ground and she dissipated into ash as Molly's feet.

Molly dropped the glass, ignoring the blood dripping from her hand and fell next to Sherlock, running her hands over his body, heedless of the smearing.

"Sherlock, Sherlock!" she cried, pulling him closer to her. "Sherlock say something, please!"

"Molly…" he whispered, blinking owlishly at her. "How did you…?"

Molly held up her black hands. "You did it, not me. You gave me the way to be rid of her."

"No Molly, YOU did it. Your love made all this possible," Sherlock said, his breathing labored. Suddenly, he gasped, and gritted his teeth as each of the marks where the spells at burnt him began to glimmer. Molly watched, wide-eyed as Sherlock's whole body began to glow. She looked around and the whole castle was aglow, everything righting itself, from the window replacing itself to the room lighting up. Sherlock too was being set to rights, the marks fading away and his face smoothing, the lines of worry and fear disappearing. He set back down on his feet, grabbing Molly in a fierce embrace.

"Molly, oh my love, Molly I love you, I love you," he repeated over and over, clinging to her.

"I love you too," she soothed, "I do, I love you."

He let her go, only to catch her hand as he looked around them.

"The castle," he breathed. "It's like it was when I was a boy."

The whole place was filled with light and a palpable joy. Sherlock laughed, a carefree sound, and caught her up in his embrace again, kissing her passionately.

"Molly, will you, will you stay with me? I won't force you, if you want to go home, but please, stay with me?" he asked, his eyes pleading with her. Molly chuckled.

"You know I will," she replied.

"You'll be Mistress of the Castle," he laughed, catching her up to twirl her around. "You'll be Princess of the Realm! My love, my wife, my love." He kissed her again and she smiled, twirling one of his curls between her fingers.

"And you'll forever be my Prince."