Title: Let Me Pull You From A Sea of Starlight
Word Count: 1,479
Summary: She had been travelling...somewhere. It didn't matter; she needed her body to behave. She had to get up. She had to do something because she knew that voice.
Rating: T
Pairing: Sparxshipping (subtle? implied? mutual pining? You decide!)
A/N: This takes place during Season 8, which as of posting date has not been released in English. While watching S8 will fill in gaps, it's not necessary to understand story.

"We must stop meeting like this."

Bloom gasped, or tried to. The sensation of air rushing into her lungs was a drastic shift from the vacuum of space, and she choked on the oxygen. Her memory was a haze. She had been travelling...somewhere. Maybe it was important. It didn't matter; she needed her body to behave. She had to get up (when had she fallen face first onto rock?), she had hone back into her powers.

She had to do something because she knew that voice.

That didn't seem to be in the cards, though. Her stomach rolled inside her torso and tears spilt from her eyes (the oxygen deprivation, part of her mind insisted, the adrenaline, it's a natural reaction). It wouldn't have made a difference if she wasn't crying - her vision was blurry, desperately trying to readjust to light after being in nothing but darkness. All she could see were colors; reds and blues and purples from the never-ending expanse of space that lied beyond the hunk of rock she was currently on.

And two long, brown blurs. Coming closer.

"What a routine: you and your little friends do something incredibly stupid, you get separated, you almost die alone, I jump in and save you…"

Bloom kept trying to force air into her lungs, but this time she inhaled a fair amount of dust from the surface she'd been thrown onto. Her throat burned, and the edges of her vision began to go red (but not the kind of red that came from her powers). The fearful thoughts that had been with her faded, leaving only one clear:

This is it. This is how I'm going to die.

"Though apparently much closer to death than before...my sincerest apologies. Let's see…"

Something warm wrapped around her back and pulled her to a sitting position. That, for some reason, seemed to be all she needed. Her fight to regain breathing tipped back in her favor, air rushing into her lungs and staying there. The red receded from around her line of sight, leaving the dark reaches of space in its place. Stars were out there - Bloom saw them - but for some reason they didn't seem to be shining.

"That's it, breathe for me. In and out...deep, now. Good..."

She listened, counting the stars as she did. Four for every inhale and exhale. Something was running up and down her back, helping soothe her. It kept up the ministrations until her lungs were finally placated and her vision slid back into focus.

It was only then, when her eyes fell on a pair of worn, brown leather boots that Bloom remembered why she'd been so afraid in the first place. Her eyes snapped up.

A pair of ice blue eyes. A man's face - angular, now closer to her in age than the last time she'd seen it. And it had been so long since she'd seen it in person.

"Baltor."

He smirked, and a pang of familiarity shot down Bloom's spine. It was a look she had forgotten entirely, and the feelings associated with it came rushing back.

"Hello, Bloom."

There were literally dozens of thoughts rushing through her head, so many things she wanted to say that ranged from sarcastic to borderline obscenities that would've gotten her detention back in school. But instead what came out of her mouth - sounding partially disbelieving and partially awed - was: "You're alive."

His smirk widened, and he reached a hand out to push her hair out of her face. It was a gesture etched with familiarity, and for a moment Bloom could smell saltwater. "Surprised?"

"It's...you can't...I felt your Dragon Fire go out! I made sure of it! My fairy dust -"

"Did exactly what it was supposed to do, and extinguished my power." His look went from treacherous to thoughtful, and out of the corner of her eye Bloom saw him wind a strand of her hair around a finger. The gloves he once wore were nowhere to be seen. "But you of all people should know how easy it is for a fire to be rekindled from smoldering ashes."

Bloom stared at him for a few moments until she realized how close they were. One of her legs was pressed against Baltor's, and she could still feel his hand on the small of her back. At some point she had reached for him, and that hand was gripping the lapel of his jacket. Bloom yanked it back as if it burned her. "Why now?" She asked. "It's been years. Everyone thought you were dead. Where have you been all this time?"

Baltor smiled, letting the strands of hair fall from his fingers. He withdrew the hand from her back and stood, brushing dust off his pants. "You've impressed me, Bloom. Resurrecting our home planet, bringing magic back to Earth...I truly underestimated you when we first met."

He offered a hand to help her up, and Bloom pointedly stared at it instead of reciprocating. "I'm not dumb."

Baltor raised an eyebrow, drawing his arm back to his side.

"I remember what happened the last time you showed me an ounce of kindness," she continued, getting to her feet on her own. Her stance was a bit wobbly, but not laughable, which was all she could ask for at the moment. "You blinded one of my best friends."

"Well I don't see any of your friends here now, do you?"

"Because you sent those things after me!" Bloom gestured to the little fledglings on dark edges of the asteroid, their golden eyes focused intently on her. They growled at her in unison like single creature (and for all Bloom knew they were - she had seen them morph into one), but made no move toward her. And they likely wouldn't unless given the go ahead from their master.

Baltor's eyes slid in their direction. The growling stopped, and to Bloom's surprise they retreated into the darkness. "I admit they didn't do as clean of a job as I would've liked -"

"Stop! Just stop with the games!" Bloom snapped. "What do you want, Baltor?"

He chuckled. "Always so perceptive."

Bloom's eyes snapped back to Baltor, recognizing that tone. The smirk that had been on his face was gone and his eyes were cold, reminiscent of their later battles when it was clear he had started to resent Bloom and her powers. It made her limbs go cold. She started to say the beginning of an offensive spell in her head, but it was too late.

Chains of fire bursted up from the ground, first encircling her ankles, then her knees, and finally her shoulders. The ends wound around her wrists, pinning them behind her back before diving back into the rock, leaving her unable to move. They were bright red and hot; uncomfortable, but not enough to burn. She tried to finish the spell in her head, or any spell, but the magic was too powerful. And, Bloom realized to her horror, that was because the magic encasing her was light.

"I couldn't help but notice your handiwork on Lumenia."

She looked back to Baltor, slowly stalking back to her, his face worryingly devoid of emotion. "I thought you'd appreciate it," Bloom finally found her voice, and it came out much steadier than she felt.

"Hmm," Baltor's eyes trailed over her, and Bloom stopped struggling in the chains. "I'm busy enough - I really don't need to waste more time destroying you and your friends."

"Because that worked so well last time you tried to take over the universe?"

Bloom had enough common sense to know that probably wasn't the best thing to say while tied up with magic far more powerful than her own by a man who had, on multiple occasions, tried to kill her. She braced herself, expecting the chains to start burning, or something painful to hit her.

She didn't expect the light touch under her chin, carefully moving her face back to his. The look Baltor gave her wasn't longing, exactly, but there was something wistful in it.

"It's such a pity. We would be so good together."

Bloom opened her mouth to protest, and then stopped. Because as much as she wanted to fight, to yell about how she would never jeopardize the safety of her friends or the magic dimension, she knew what he meant.

"Yeah," she finally said, surprised by how soft her own voice was. "We would be."

The hand left her face, and Baltor straightened up as if he was composing himself. When their eyes met again, that blank look was back. "This is your only warning, Bloom."

There was a flash, and when Bloom could see again she was lying on the grass in Alfea's courtyard, dust on her clothes and her skin still warm where Baltor had touched her.