Fic: Child of Vengeance, Part One.
So remember that Jenny Calendar fic I promised? Well, here's part one. I'll post it as I finish different parts. There'll probably only be 3. I might even post them all tonight! When I post the last part I'll include all the others too, so there's a complete fic. In any case...
Title: Child of Vengeance.
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Characters: Jenny Calendar, D'Hoffryn, Angel/Angelus, (Giles, Willow).
Part: one of three?
Word Count: 940.
Notes: this was inspired by how many times the word "vegeance" is used in relation to Jenny and her people. It's a strong theme in season 2, and I wanted to incorporate this with how it's used later on. Also, I found it quite hard to write Jenny's POV, but I think I achieved her voice. I included some of her cynical dry wit, pop culture references, and even a line from her as The First.
Summary: Jenny has always avoided vengeance. Her people's obsession with it drove her from them. But now, a victim of Angelus and fearing for her loved ones, vengeance may be her only hope.
Link:
Do you know what it feels like to get your neck broken? Damn painful is what. Don’t believe all they say about a quick, painless death. Time doesn’t really have a meaning when it comes to dying. Your last moment stretches, grows into eternity, until you can feel every bone snapping, every tendon tearing, blood spilling and gushing into your throat, filling it up, overflowing.
But I guess it’s better than being burnt to death or something. Not as good as dying in bed with grandchildren but hey, beggars and choosers and all that.
So I’m lying there, all twisted and dead and all, and along comes this guy. I don’t really notice him at first. The whole deceased thing is kinda preoccupying.
“Death’s a bitch, huh.”
I look round. And it’s then I realise I’m beside myself, literally, looking down at my empty open eyes.
“...”
“Don’t worry,” he grins. His face is all... wrong. Blue isn’t a natural colour. Either he’s a demon or he’s got a serious woad fetish. “Most newbies take a while to grow accustomed to it. But you’ll get used to it after a while. A body is such a limiting thing anyway. Much better to be ethereal, I find.”
“...”
He smiles, somehow evil and friendly and comforting all at once. He offers his hand for me to shake. I’m still in the oh-Lord-I’m-dead phase, but I manage to shake his hand... shakily. “D’Hoffryn,” he introduces himself.
“I’m -”
“Oh, no need, my dear. We’ve been monitoring you for a while. Ha! Monitoring. Sounds like something out of one of those terrible science fiction movies. Ha!”
I stare at him incredulously. “I must be dead. Either that or I’m flashing back to my college meth phase...”
D’Hoffryn laughs again, loudly. His non-existent voice seems to echo around the school and I suppress a shudder. Hey, just cos I grew up with beasties doesn’t mean I’m used to them. Demons always wig me out.
“So are you the Techno-Pagan version of St Peter, or am I heading somewhere distinctly less heavenly?”
He merely tilts his head. “Shall we discuss this in a more... ambient situation? I find fresh corpses so
repulsive. No offence of course.”
I shake my head slowly, looking down at myself again. I’m disconnected: somehow the woman broken on the ground means nothing to me now. “No, in this I’d have to agree with you.”
“Excellent!” He claps his hands together. “I’m glad things are getting along so swimmingly. Shall we?”
His arm stretches out to me and I feel a shiver of shock as I grasp it. Part of me, a little girl’s voice, is screaming to stay here, in my familiar home, but I ignore it. I’m dead. I’m over it. I have to be.
So I grasp his arm and the world melts away. There’s a wrench in my heart as it does but I can’t think about that now. Can’t think about the life I could have had with... no. Can’t think about him.
“Aha! Here we are.”
And with a jolt and a tug the world wraps itself around us again. It’s still night. Forest curves round us and the air is quiet, peaceful.
“So where...”
An unearthly scream tears the air, and a man crashes down in front of us. He’s in pain, and I reach out to help him.
“Don’t bother.” D’Hoffryn’s tone is that of boredom and I glare at him. But then the man turns his face to me and I stumble, my heart catching, stomach lurching.
“Oh God.” How can I be shaking if I’m just a ghost?
“Hardly,” D’Hoffryn replies. “But I believe you know each other.”
“Hardly,” I echo.
Angelus, no, Angel’s eyes flash and he collapses, weeping. My ancestor enters, speaks, but I can’t hear, won’t hear.
“Why did you take me here?” I demand.
D’Hoffryn raises a chalky eyebrow. “You don’t know? This is part of you, Yanna. This is who you are.”
“No.” I speak lowly, but my voice shakes with passion. “I spent my life running away from this... this atrocity. I wanted no part of it.”
“And yet, here we are.”
I’m silent.
“Don’t you realise, Yanna? Vengeance is a part of you. It always will be. It burns through the blood of your people. It burnt in you, long before you could put a name to it. Your soul cries out for it. You need it.”
“My people need it,” I counter, glaring at him. “I just wanted to get away. I did my duty to vengeance and look what...” I can’t go on. Bowing my head, I find my eyes are brimming with tears.
“Exactly.” D’Hoffryn’s voice is cool, and Angel weeps before us. “You failed.”
“I know.”
“Angelus will continue to destroy your friend’s lives. Destroy Giles...”
I snap my head up to glare fire at him. “You don’t mention him. Don’t bring him into this.”
“But you already did. You must have known what might happen. Falling in love complicates things, Yanna. And now he will suffer.”
My head drops again, and I struggle to hold back sobs. I refuse to be weak but this... this is too much.
“But he doesn’t have to.” I feel a frozen hand on my shoulder. “You can fix this, my dear. I can help you. You can go back, finish what you started. You can yet have your vengeance.”
Angel is shaking, the memories of what he did returning. Tears still damp on his cheek, he forces himself up and runs away. I frown. My mind is made up.
“Just tell me how.”
---
~Lili