Endings 5/?
The continuation of the fic I started in Summer_Of_Giles.
Part 1: http://summer-of-giles.livejournal.com/224036.html#cutid1
Part 2: http://summer-of-giles.livejournal.com/265231.html
Part 3: http://summer-of-giles.livejournal.com/265766.html
Part 4: http://summer-of-giles.livejournal.com/266005.html
Disclaimer: Since it’s an AU could I say that it’s all mine? LOL. See chapters 1-4.
Wordcount: 1,118
Endings
5
She sat in the chair, with her arms crossed, and an ugly look on her face, glaring at the room. She steadfastly refused to think of it as her room, even three days on from being sucked into this reality. Her room was waiting for her back home, and she had to hold to that, because if she didn’t then it would feel all the more like giving up, and admitting defeat, agreeing with a pair of thoughtless magician that she though they were right, and there really was no way to go back home.
It wasn’t even as if her two hosts hadn’t been making allowances for her, trying to draw her into whatever the hell it was that they were up to, and give her something other that her own annoyance to focus her energies on, but it still didn’t make it, what they’d done, right.
The real thing that she wondered about, really, was who the hell over there had noticed that she was amongst the number of what sounded like hundreds of Slayers; at the least, gone missing.
She didn’t think that Dawn would have, or at least not straight away. Even before Dawn had been distracted the problems of her own life. It hadn’t been unusual for a few months to pass before receiving a distracted phone call or a brief letter from her.
And as her old friends had scattered off to do their own thing, she had lost a lot of the closeness she’d once had with them that she’d taken for granted when they’d been younger. It was strange, now that she really had time to think about it.
She’d felt for so long, that becoming the Slayer had stripped her of some deeper innocence, and she supposed, in some way that it had. But she’d still had friends, and love, and hope and joy. It was only as she’d aged a little that she’d really lost the abundance of all of that, and settled for a muted shade of life and it’s vibrancy. She’d lost her belief, or her ability to believe that what tomorrow brought could be better, and had, for the last few years, simply been rolling with it, because she hadn’t known where she’d wanted to go enough to set her own path for it.
Although if she had the choice she knew that she would rather be there, than here. She would keep telling herself that one, too.
It was that loss of desire, that felt like the true betrayal of innocence.
ARR! ARR! ARR! ARR
On his way past, Rupert glanced towards the tightly closed door to the spare room, and didn’t quite repress a sigh, as he came back out into the study, causing Ethan to glance up from the yellowing paper that he’d been studying intently, with a single eyebrow raised questioningly.
“You know, I’ve never known anyone other than you to be able to mope fore three days straight.”
In spite of the fact that he was trying to keep his tone conversational he knew that Ethan would be able to hear the note of frustration and tension under it, even if he wasn’t inclined to say anything about it. The man had been with him ever since Ethan had been nineteen, and Rupert twenty, after all., aside from the few times that they’d fallen out, the worst of which had left them estranged for five months.
“At least she doesn’t try to stop your heart with a glare on those rare occasions that you cross her path outside that room,” Ethan offered him a weak smile, as he raised his lukewarm cup of tea to his lips, took a sip, and put it back down with an expression of distaste on his face, before slowly standing, ignoring the way that his knees cracked in the way that they did when he’d been sitting in one position for far too long.
“Find anything yet?” Rupert nodded towards the yellowed paper, and small pile of books built up on the floor beside where Ethan had been sitting.
“You may want to be more specific, you know. Have I found anything? Yes I’ve found plenty. Have I found anything which will be of any use to us though? No, most certainly not.”
Rupert rolled his eyes, and picked up the fragile piece of paper from off the desk, casting an eye over it again.
Even before the summoning, there had been weeks of research, trying to decipher the prophecy which Ethan had turned up, more or less by accident. It hadn’t just been to stop the worlds from falling into one another, that they’d done what they had. It had also been because of the prophecy, which had referred to the True Slayer. Not that either of them had dared to mention that to her yet, although it was Ethan’s already oft-stated opinion that it couldn’t make things much worse than they already were, to let her know everything.
On the turning point the future does rest
Upon the true primeval power amongst the false thousand from which the strength does stem
As the tide turns and the darkness rises and the future looks set in stone
It is the one set apart which can write fate up anew
As opposed powers strive together, for balance returned
And can only come to an understanding across the catalyst revealed
As the universe tears itself apart
And the worlds begin to bleed
Fate shall play the hand long-set
And the catalyst must decide
Ethan yawned, and stretched, rolling the stiff muscles in his shoulders and neck, “Could be offering me a better incentive to stick with it,” his face flashed across with that patented grin of his, wide and only just touching his eyes, and then seriousness returned, “And you are going to have to try and talk to her again some time in the next century. Before the ‘worlds being to bleed’ again,” he waved air quotes around the relevant words, and pushed past heading to the kitchen to refresh his drink.
“I know,” Giles called after him, and grabbed the yellowed paper, and slightly less yellow English translation which had been under it, “no time like the present,” he muttered to himself, before calling out to Ethan to make sure there was enough water in the jug for two.
Then he gathered himself and his thoughts, and steeled himself outside the door of the spare room. The Slayer’s room. Gods, but he’d walked into vampire nests with his head held high, and it hadn’t felt as daunting as this.
It was time for their Slayer to stop dwelling on what couldn’t be changed.
Part 1: http://summer-of-giles.livejournal.com/224036.html#cutid1
Part 2: http://summer-of-giles.livejournal.com/265231.html
Part 3: http://summer-of-giles.livejournal.com/265766.html
Part 4: http://summer-of-giles.livejournal.com/266005.html
Disclaimer: Since it’s an AU could I say that it’s all mine? LOL. See chapters 1-4.
Wordcount: 1,118
Endings
5
She sat in the chair, with her arms crossed, and an ugly look on her face, glaring at the room. She steadfastly refused to think of it as her room, even three days on from being sucked into this reality. Her room was waiting for her back home, and she had to hold to that, because if she didn’t then it would feel all the more like giving up, and admitting defeat, agreeing with a pair of thoughtless magician that she though they were right, and there really was no way to go back home.
It wasn’t even as if her two hosts hadn’t been making allowances for her, trying to draw her into whatever the hell it was that they were up to, and give her something other that her own annoyance to focus her energies on, but it still didn’t make it, what they’d done, right.
The real thing that she wondered about, really, was who the hell over there had noticed that she was amongst the number of what sounded like hundreds of Slayers; at the least, gone missing.
She didn’t think that Dawn would have, or at least not straight away. Even before Dawn had been distracted the problems of her own life. It hadn’t been unusual for a few months to pass before receiving a distracted phone call or a brief letter from her.
And as her old friends had scattered off to do their own thing, she had lost a lot of the closeness she’d once had with them that she’d taken for granted when they’d been younger. It was strange, now that she really had time to think about it.
She’d felt for so long, that becoming the Slayer had stripped her of some deeper innocence, and she supposed, in some way that it had. But she’d still had friends, and love, and hope and joy. It was only as she’d aged a little that she’d really lost the abundance of all of that, and settled for a muted shade of life and it’s vibrancy. She’d lost her belief, or her ability to believe that what tomorrow brought could be better, and had, for the last few years, simply been rolling with it, because she hadn’t known where she’d wanted to go enough to set her own path for it.
Although if she had the choice she knew that she would rather be there, than here. She would keep telling herself that one, too.
It was that loss of desire, that felt like the true betrayal of innocence.
ARR! ARR! ARR! ARR
On his way past, Rupert glanced towards the tightly closed door to the spare room, and didn’t quite repress a sigh, as he came back out into the study, causing Ethan to glance up from the yellowing paper that he’d been studying intently, with a single eyebrow raised questioningly.
“You know, I’ve never known anyone other than you to be able to mope fore three days straight.”
In spite of the fact that he was trying to keep his tone conversational he knew that Ethan would be able to hear the note of frustration and tension under it, even if he wasn’t inclined to say anything about it. The man had been with him ever since Ethan had been nineteen, and Rupert twenty, after all., aside from the few times that they’d fallen out, the worst of which had left them estranged for five months.
“At least she doesn’t try to stop your heart with a glare on those rare occasions that you cross her path outside that room,” Ethan offered him a weak smile, as he raised his lukewarm cup of tea to his lips, took a sip, and put it back down with an expression of distaste on his face, before slowly standing, ignoring the way that his knees cracked in the way that they did when he’d been sitting in one position for far too long.
“Find anything yet?” Rupert nodded towards the yellowed paper, and small pile of books built up on the floor beside where Ethan had been sitting.
“You may want to be more specific, you know. Have I found anything? Yes I’ve found plenty. Have I found anything which will be of any use to us though? No, most certainly not.”
Rupert rolled his eyes, and picked up the fragile piece of paper from off the desk, casting an eye over it again.
Even before the summoning, there had been weeks of research, trying to decipher the prophecy which Ethan had turned up, more or less by accident. It hadn’t just been to stop the worlds from falling into one another, that they’d done what they had. It had also been because of the prophecy, which had referred to the True Slayer. Not that either of them had dared to mention that to her yet, although it was Ethan’s already oft-stated opinion that it couldn’t make things much worse than they already were, to let her know everything.
On the turning point the future does rest
Upon the true primeval power amongst the false thousand from which the strength does stem
As the tide turns and the darkness rises and the future looks set in stone
It is the one set apart which can write fate up anew
As opposed powers strive together, for balance returned
And can only come to an understanding across the catalyst revealed
As the universe tears itself apart
And the worlds begin to bleed
Fate shall play the hand long-set
And the catalyst must decide
Ethan yawned, and stretched, rolling the stiff muscles in his shoulders and neck, “Could be offering me a better incentive to stick with it,” his face flashed across with that patented grin of his, wide and only just touching his eyes, and then seriousness returned, “And you are going to have to try and talk to her again some time in the next century. Before the ‘worlds being to bleed’ again,” he waved air quotes around the relevant words, and pushed past heading to the kitchen to refresh his drink.
“I know,” Giles called after him, and grabbed the yellowed paper, and slightly less yellow English translation which had been under it, “no time like the present,” he muttered to himself, before calling out to Ethan to make sure there was enough water in the jug for two.
Then he gathered himself and his thoughts, and steeled himself outside the door of the spare room. The Slayer’s room. Gods, but he’d walked into vampire nests with his head held high, and it hadn’t felt as daunting as this.
It was time for their Slayer to stop dwelling on what couldn’t be changed.