FIC: Jolly Holiday (FRT) 5/?
This is turning out to be longer than I expected ... never mind. We might get to the dancing sometime in the new year ! :-)
Meanwhile, back at the feast, and further down the table ...
(Disclaimers in part one.)
Part Five:
"… and then the dashed beast up and bolted on me. Took off like a rocket. There I was, hanging on like grim death while it charged through hedges and leapt ditches and thundered through streams, with the bally hounds baying at our heels all the way. Ended up on the other side of the county with a broken girth and a bent bit. Had to jolly well walk home - and not a trophy to show for the entire day!” Lord Holly spread his hands wide to illustrate their emptiness and Dawn had to smother a giggle at his expression. “The hounds enjoyed it though. Best run they’d had in weeks.”
“I bet they did.” Jack’s eyes twinkled in the candlelight, adding to the warmth of his smile. Dawn thought that he and Lord Holly were related somehow, although neither of them had said as much. The old man’s face held an echo of the younger one’s handsomely chiselled face, and their eyes - their eyes were almost an exact match, although Lord Holly’s might be a slightly darker green, as Jack’s were clear as emeralds, and the old man’s were misted with age. But they had the same flicker of golden flecks in their depths, and the same swirl of sunlight and hazelnut whispering around the edges of the iris. “You spoil those hounds of yours, Holly. They won’t love you any the less if you work them hard. In fact they’ll thank you for it.”
“And I’ll thank you for keeping your advice to yourself, thank you very much. You don’t know a thing about hunting hounds. Nor riding to them, for that matter. Stick to ploughshares and plough horses. That’s what you know. Oats and wheat and barleycorn. Leave the deer and rabbit and the fox to me.”
Jack laughed. “Happy to, old man. My hunting days are long over. Don’t mind a rabbit or two though - hedgerows can be snared, you know.”
“Umm - “ Dawn didn’t really want to interrupt, because there was something fascinatingly reassuring about hearing the two of them swap stories and teasing insults all at the same time. Just like her and Buffy, really, except that there was no anger or resentment in the two men; they were clearly very fond of each other, and just as clearly opposites in almost everything they did or said. “Can we - ah - leave rabbits out of the conversation?” She glanced down the table to where Anya was holding forth to the military men in the company, Xander among them. Had she been the only one to notice that his uniform was the same as the two officers that Lady Victoria had seated him with? She thought she might be - except for Giles, of course, who’d arranged the whole thing and who could probably tell her which regiment they were all supposed to belong to. If there was one, that is. She didn’t know if soldiers who joined dinner parties inside Christmas cards would be real soldiers or not.
Although, since she wasn’t entirely sure if all the people round the table were people exactly, the matter of whether or not Xander was now a pretend member of a pretend regiment didn’t seem to be all that important somehow.
“Something against conies, m’dear?” Lord Holly asked, and she blinked at him for a moment before realising that cony was another name for a rabbit.
“Ah - not me. But - Anya thinks they’re scary. I don’t know why,” she added with a shrug. “But we kinda do the avoidy thing when she’s around, so …”
“Ixnay on the abbitsray,” Jack grinned, tapping the side of his nose. “Gotcha.”
“Really, Jack,” Lord Holly frowned - although it was a very affectionate frown. “Don’t humor the girl, like that. She’s not a child, you know.”
That was the other thing Dawn liked about her current company. They talked to her - and with her, and around her - as if she were an adult, making no attempt to dumb things down or avoid awkward subjects. At least, she didn’t think they were avoiding awkward subjects. There hadn’t exactly been any to avoid, as yet …
“I know,” Jack smiled. “She’s no more a child than you and I - and, like us, is so more than she seems.”
What? What does he know..?
A sudden tremor of doubt tugged at Dawn’s stomach - which protested, because it was all warm and happily filled with roast goose - and made her catch her breath. Lord Holly must have heard it, because he turned and winked at her. “A claim that many here tonight could make,” he said with a grin. It was a good humoured and I know about secrets wink that turned Dawn’s sudden sense of threat into one of conspiratorial inclusion. Many here tonight … Like us, Jack had said, and meant it - but what exactly did he mean?
“My sister,” she suggested tentatively, “she has … a destiny. And - Giles has this … gift …”
“No, my dear,” Lord Holly corrected warmly. “Rupert has the gift. I knew his grandmother, you know.”
“We all did,” Jack tutted impatiently. “Or knew of her, which was quite enough for some. She was a … remarkable lady. And she knew all about destiny and the mess people get into trying to figure it out. It’s not something you can ever escape, you know - and trying to deny it just makes it worse. I ran away from my Destiny once. A lot of good people suffered - and all because I couldn’t accept my responsibilities.”
“And his is the lighter burden,” Lord Holly said pointedly. Then his eyes softened, crinkling around the edges. “But a much harder path to walk, these days, He’s a farmer, you see. Takes sweat - and blood, to bring life back to the earth.”
“You pay the price too, old man. We were both hunters, once. I know what it costs.”
“Indeed,” Lord Holly observed, giving Dawn a thoughtful look. “But does she?”
Dawn stared back at him for a moment, realising he was challenging her in ways she just didn’t understand. But she wanted to. She really, really wanted to - because if she did understand, she thought she might also understand something very important about herself. About who and what she was.
“Not yet,” Jack answered for her, leaning forward to refill her wine glass. “But she’ll figure it out. You and I did, after all.” Lord Holly frowned.
“You and I …” he began to say, and then shook his head, clearly shaking the thought away with it. “No matter,” he laughed. “Those times are done. And this young lady has only just joined the game. Brings a whole new aspect to things. A fresh view, so to speak.” His smile was encouraging; Dawn returned it warily, wishing she knew what he was talking about.
“One filled with possibilities.” Jack’s smile was just as encouraging. “You know what I think?” he asked. “I think that, given time - and if she chooses wisely, Miss Summers will turn into a player of some note.”
“The choice is the important thing,” Lord Holly noted, wagging a finger to emphasis the point. “Even Jack and I have a choice - although it might not look like it, from someone else’s point of view.”
Jack laughed. “Who’d want to look at it from ours? But you’re right, old man. As usual. We are what we chose to be.”
“I don’t think Buffy got a choice,” Dawn said doubtfully. She thought they were probably still talking about destiny - her destiny, perhaps - but she couldn’t be sure, and she didn’t quite have the courage to ask them to explain.
“People make choices every day,” Jack declared, his fork hovering over the last brussel sprout on his plate. “And if they’re sensible, they accept the consequences of making them.” He speared the sprout and popped it into his mouth, giving her a wink as he did so. “I might regret that, come the morning.”
She giggled, getting both the joke - and the point - all at once.
“So you’re saying that - while I didn’t choose to be me - what I choose to do while I am me, is up to me?”
“In a way.” Lord Holly broke open a bread roll and used it to mop up a little of the gravy that was still on his plate. “But it helps to understand one’s place in the scheme of things. Knowing who and what you are gives you a chance to understand the consequence of your choices.”
“I’m just a girl,” Dawn sighed, stabbing at a sprout on her own plate. “I don’t seem to have a place in the scheme of things. Not the way Buffy does.”
“Nonsense,” Lord Holly puffed. “My dear young lady, you are capable of so many things. You just have to put your mind to it. Unlocking the doorways to knowledge. Opening up new opportunities for yourself and others.”
“Freeing those unjustly imprisoned,” Jack suggested, warming to the theme.
“Mapping uncharted lands.”
“Translating forgotten languages.”
"Recovering long lost secrets.”
“Revealing conspiracies and disclosing nefarious plots.”
“Robbing banks.”
“Jack …”
Dawn’s giggle was as much about the look on Lord Holly’s face as it was at Jack’s outrageous suggestion. “I kinda like the laguage idea,” she admitted slowly. “Giles has been teaching me stuff - to help with the research, you know? And I don’t always get what it means,but I’m getting pretty good at reading odd alphabets and working out symbols and things. Sometimes it’s kinda fun. Like … like doing puzzles. Crosswords and stuff.” She shrugged. “I’ve always been good at those.”
“You enjoy the puzzles more than the research?” Lord Holly didn’t seem surprised at either.
“Way more,” she said. “Finding things in books is just - boring. You have to figure puzzles out.”
“Well, of course,” he laughed, sharing a knowing look with Jack across the table. “Books only need indexes. Crossword puzzles need keys.”
Part Six
Meanwhile, back at the feast, and further down the table ...
(Disclaimers in part one.)
Part Five:
"… and then the dashed beast up and bolted on me. Took off like a rocket. There I was, hanging on like grim death while it charged through hedges and leapt ditches and thundered through streams, with the bally hounds baying at our heels all the way. Ended up on the other side of the county with a broken girth and a bent bit. Had to jolly well walk home - and not a trophy to show for the entire day!” Lord Holly spread his hands wide to illustrate their emptiness and Dawn had to smother a giggle at his expression. “The hounds enjoyed it though. Best run they’d had in weeks.”
“I bet they did.” Jack’s eyes twinkled in the candlelight, adding to the warmth of his smile. Dawn thought that he and Lord Holly were related somehow, although neither of them had said as much. The old man’s face held an echo of the younger one’s handsomely chiselled face, and their eyes - their eyes were almost an exact match, although Lord Holly’s might be a slightly darker green, as Jack’s were clear as emeralds, and the old man’s were misted with age. But they had the same flicker of golden flecks in their depths, and the same swirl of sunlight and hazelnut whispering around the edges of the iris. “You spoil those hounds of yours, Holly. They won’t love you any the less if you work them hard. In fact they’ll thank you for it.”
“And I’ll thank you for keeping your advice to yourself, thank you very much. You don’t know a thing about hunting hounds. Nor riding to them, for that matter. Stick to ploughshares and plough horses. That’s what you know. Oats and wheat and barleycorn. Leave the deer and rabbit and the fox to me.”
Jack laughed. “Happy to, old man. My hunting days are long over. Don’t mind a rabbit or two though - hedgerows can be snared, you know.”
“Umm - “ Dawn didn’t really want to interrupt, because there was something fascinatingly reassuring about hearing the two of them swap stories and teasing insults all at the same time. Just like her and Buffy, really, except that there was no anger or resentment in the two men; they were clearly very fond of each other, and just as clearly opposites in almost everything they did or said. “Can we - ah - leave rabbits out of the conversation?” She glanced down the table to where Anya was holding forth to the military men in the company, Xander among them. Had she been the only one to notice that his uniform was the same as the two officers that Lady Victoria had seated him with? She thought she might be - except for Giles, of course, who’d arranged the whole thing and who could probably tell her which regiment they were all supposed to belong to. If there was one, that is. She didn’t know if soldiers who joined dinner parties inside Christmas cards would be real soldiers or not.
Although, since she wasn’t entirely sure if all the people round the table were people exactly, the matter of whether or not Xander was now a pretend member of a pretend regiment didn’t seem to be all that important somehow.
“Something against conies, m’dear?” Lord Holly asked, and she blinked at him for a moment before realising that cony was another name for a rabbit.
“Ah - not me. But - Anya thinks they’re scary. I don’t know why,” she added with a shrug. “But we kinda do the avoidy thing when she’s around, so …”
“Ixnay on the abbitsray,” Jack grinned, tapping the side of his nose. “Gotcha.”
“Really, Jack,” Lord Holly frowned - although it was a very affectionate frown. “Don’t humor the girl, like that. She’s not a child, you know.”
That was the other thing Dawn liked about her current company. They talked to her - and with her, and around her - as if she were an adult, making no attempt to dumb things down or avoid awkward subjects. At least, she didn’t think they were avoiding awkward subjects. There hadn’t exactly been any to avoid, as yet …
“I know,” Jack smiled. “She’s no more a child than you and I - and, like us, is so more than she seems.”
What? What does he know..?
A sudden tremor of doubt tugged at Dawn’s stomach - which protested, because it was all warm and happily filled with roast goose - and made her catch her breath. Lord Holly must have heard it, because he turned and winked at her. “A claim that many here tonight could make,” he said with a grin. It was a good humoured and I know about secrets wink that turned Dawn’s sudden sense of threat into one of conspiratorial inclusion. Many here tonight … Like us, Jack had said, and meant it - but what exactly did he mean?
“My sister,” she suggested tentatively, “she has … a destiny. And - Giles has this … gift …”
“No, my dear,” Lord Holly corrected warmly. “Rupert has the gift. I knew his grandmother, you know.”
“We all did,” Jack tutted impatiently. “Or knew of her, which was quite enough for some. She was a … remarkable lady. And she knew all about destiny and the mess people get into trying to figure it out. It’s not something you can ever escape, you know - and trying to deny it just makes it worse. I ran away from my Destiny once. A lot of good people suffered - and all because I couldn’t accept my responsibilities.”
“And his is the lighter burden,” Lord Holly said pointedly. Then his eyes softened, crinkling around the edges. “But a much harder path to walk, these days, He’s a farmer, you see. Takes sweat - and blood, to bring life back to the earth.”
“You pay the price too, old man. We were both hunters, once. I know what it costs.”
“Indeed,” Lord Holly observed, giving Dawn a thoughtful look. “But does she?”
Dawn stared back at him for a moment, realising he was challenging her in ways she just didn’t understand. But she wanted to. She really, really wanted to - because if she did understand, she thought she might also understand something very important about herself. About who and what she was.
“Not yet,” Jack answered for her, leaning forward to refill her wine glass. “But she’ll figure it out. You and I did, after all.” Lord Holly frowned.
“You and I …” he began to say, and then shook his head, clearly shaking the thought away with it. “No matter,” he laughed. “Those times are done. And this young lady has only just joined the game. Brings a whole new aspect to things. A fresh view, so to speak.” His smile was encouraging; Dawn returned it warily, wishing she knew what he was talking about.
“One filled with possibilities.” Jack’s smile was just as encouraging. “You know what I think?” he asked. “I think that, given time - and if she chooses wisely, Miss Summers will turn into a player of some note.”
“The choice is the important thing,” Lord Holly noted, wagging a finger to emphasis the point. “Even Jack and I have a choice - although it might not look like it, from someone else’s point of view.”
Jack laughed. “Who’d want to look at it from ours? But you’re right, old man. As usual. We are what we chose to be.”
“I don’t think Buffy got a choice,” Dawn said doubtfully. She thought they were probably still talking about destiny - her destiny, perhaps - but she couldn’t be sure, and she didn’t quite have the courage to ask them to explain.
“People make choices every day,” Jack declared, his fork hovering over the last brussel sprout on his plate. “And if they’re sensible, they accept the consequences of making them.” He speared the sprout and popped it into his mouth, giving her a wink as he did so. “I might regret that, come the morning.”
She giggled, getting both the joke - and the point - all at once.
“So you’re saying that - while I didn’t choose to be me - what I choose to do while I am me, is up to me?”
“In a way.” Lord Holly broke open a bread roll and used it to mop up a little of the gravy that was still on his plate. “But it helps to understand one’s place in the scheme of things. Knowing who and what you are gives you a chance to understand the consequence of your choices.”
“I’m just a girl,” Dawn sighed, stabbing at a sprout on her own plate. “I don’t seem to have a place in the scheme of things. Not the way Buffy does.”
“Nonsense,” Lord Holly puffed. “My dear young lady, you are capable of so many things. You just have to put your mind to it. Unlocking the doorways to knowledge. Opening up new opportunities for yourself and others.”
“Freeing those unjustly imprisoned,” Jack suggested, warming to the theme.
“Mapping uncharted lands.”
“Translating forgotten languages.”
"Recovering long lost secrets.”
“Revealing conspiracies and disclosing nefarious plots.”
“Robbing banks.”
“Jack …”
Dawn’s giggle was as much about the look on Lord Holly’s face as it was at Jack’s outrageous suggestion. “I kinda like the laguage idea,” she admitted slowly. “Giles has been teaching me stuff - to help with the research, you know? And I don’t always get what it means,but I’m getting pretty good at reading odd alphabets and working out symbols and things. Sometimes it’s kinda fun. Like … like doing puzzles. Crosswords and stuff.” She shrugged. “I’ve always been good at those.”
“You enjoy the puzzles more than the research?” Lord Holly didn’t seem surprised at either.
“Way more,” she said. “Finding things in books is just - boring. You have to figure puzzles out.”
“Well, of course,” he laughed, sharing a knowing look with Jack across the table. “Books only need indexes. Crossword puzzles need keys.”
Part Six