FIC: Broken English - Part 11 - (Giles/Ethan) - R
I haven't posted a chapter in years. *feels guilty* But I have often pored over this fic. I suppose when you lose the initial impetus, it's hard to get back on track. When the wrong side of the brain takes over, you analyze (and edit) everything to death instead of just running with the bunny for the sheer fun of it.
This isn't my favourite section of the story, but since I dumped Ethan and Giles in the middle of bloody nowhere I had better make sure they don't freeze to death...,.
TITLE: Broken English Part 11
PAIRING: Giles/Ethan
RATING: will eventually be R
SPOILERS: Set after 8x04 The Long Way Home (comics); set in Germany, btw
PROMPT: a vacation or roadtrip, magic, slash
WRITTEN FOR: spikendru
Sorry, unbeta'd.
PREVIOUS PARTS: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10
“A protective circle?” Ethan blurts out. “From you? But you detest all forms of summoning magic!”
“I do.” Giles is glad that his voice is steady. “That’s why we are going to be careful.”
“We?”
“I wouldn’t even dream of trying this without you.”
It’s too dark to see Ethan’s face, but Giles can hear his sharp intake of breath.
A moment later, Ethan is crouching beside him. “So, what kind of offering do you have in mind?” Now that Ethan is close enough for Giles to be able to read his expression, his unfathomable half-smile is back. “Blood?”
He picks up Giles’s pocket knife and snaps it open to study the length of blade. ‘Mine’s longer,’ his arched eyebrow seems to say.
Giles sighs. ‘Grow up, will you?’ Yet, at the same time he feels a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. “I was thinking of trying the whiskey first.”
With a radiant smile, Ethan snaps the knife shut. “As you wish.”
* * * * * * * * * *
In spite of the mind-numbing cold, Ethan can’t stop grinning.
Performing a summoning ritual without the props, in the freezing cold, with most of their magic spent on the teleportation spell that dumped them in the middle of bloody nowhere, is insane, but it is Ethan’s kind of insane. Summoning Eyghon felt similar: like embarking on a journey to fabled shores on a ship barely seaworthy; both exhilarating and somewhat slightly mad. Only, this is where the similarities end. This is not a rollercoaster ride into danger for the sheer spite of it; not an attempt to keep an angry, rebellious Watcher-to-be at his side by steering him from one thrilling transgression to the next. This is about life and death.
“We need to know who or what we are dealing with,” Giles states.
“I can tell you this much: It’s not demonic. This place would feel different, if Sleeping Beauty were a demon.”
“Not good enough.”
“Your wish is my command.” Ethan closes his eyes and reaches out, touching the trees, the frozen sky and the snowy ground itself with his mind, like a tracker exploring a faint footprint with his fingertips. A quick sweep of their surroundings reveals slopes and chasms, crags and crevices; an inhospitable labyrinth of sharp edges and steep drops, that is dotted with stubborn pine trees and not much else. A hundred yards in either direction and the teleportation spell would have left both of them with broken bones. Trust Giles to take them to a place so remote, not even backpack tourists have left their mark. Even animals seem to shun this place, driven away by the instinctual knowledge that this part of the forest is already taken…
When Ethan opens his eyes again, he finds Giles watching him, his expression wistful.
“Well?”
“Elemental, no doubt about it. And like I said: old as grit.”
“Earth?”
“Down to earth, rock solid, a tad boring. Actually, that sounds an awful lot like someone I used to know." Ethan affects a heavy sigh. "Story of my life: I always run into powerful people who don’t play well with chaos….”
“Ethan!”
“What?”
“A simple ‘yes’, would have been quite enough.”
“A simple yes, then.” Ethan tries on a demure smile, but ends up throwing in a hint of shark, as well.
Giles shakes his head. Nevertheless, a hint of mirth reaches his eyes, causing Ethan’s heart to break into a jitter. For a fleeting second it feels as though nothing on this earth can stop them; as though the crazy impulse to just grab Giles by the collar and kiss him isn’t crazy at all.
The moment slips away too soon. Two heartbeats later they are two miserable old mystics again, desperate to get out of the cold.
Oh well, at least Giles has given him something useful to do. Ethan’s fingers are clumsy from the cold, but he manages to quickly tie the various pieces of clothing into a kind of rope. “Where do you want it?”
“This is as good a place as any.” Giles indicates the spot where he’s sitting.
Ethan has been drawing circles ever since he was thirteen. It’s easier with chalk on wooden floorboards than with an improvised rope on uneven ground, but the principle remains the same. When he’s finished, the circle is a pretty good approximation of round and emitting a soothing hum of power.
“I see you haven’t lost your touch." A faint smile washes over Giles’s features.
“Bah, child’s play.” Ethan shrugs. “Now what, Rupert? We both know that waking the elemental is the easy part. How do you plan on binding it before it grinds us into minced meat?”
Giles gestures at the small pile of objects they’ve gathered. “We cannot even hope to trap an elemental with this. Besides, we’re both low on power. Our only option is to negotiate.”
“Negotiate,” Ethan echoes, without inflection.
“If we can make the elemental believe that we are considerably more powerful than we actually are, we may be able to bargain with it, make it agree to a binding contract. Hopefully, before your protective circle runs out of juice.”
“That’s your plan? Trying to con an elemental?” Ethan’s chuckle turns into a bout of coughing. “Who are you, and what have you done to Rupert Giles?”
“I am quite aware of the irony, thank you very much.”
“And are you aware that elementals can see through illusions? You won’t be able fool it with things that aren’t there.”
“That’s why we’ll merely exaggerate.”
“Exaggerate?”
“I’ll need the trappings of a Magus, of course: Sword, chalice, coin…”
“… and wand. Right. And don’t forget the robe. You’ll definitely need a fancy robe, Gandalf. Not to mention a hat.”
“I’m beginning to think you’re not taking this seriously.” Giles picks up Ethan’s knife. “Here’s our sword.” He taps the blade against Ethan’s silver flask. “Here’s our chalice.”
Ethan blinks, blinks again, then breaks into a smile. “Look at you, Rupert! You’re full of surprises. Here I was, thinking that improvisation isn’t your strong suit.”
A sheepish expression washes over Giles’s features. “Yes, well, I suppose one cannot watch over Buffy for over seven years and not pick up a new trick or two.”
Buffy! For a second or two, Ethan savors the surge of animosity that the name sends through him: heart pumping, blood boiling… It’s an old grudge. Nothing personal. She just happens to be the girl Rupert swore an oath to protect. She also happens to be the girl who berated him whenever they met, and who beat him up with remarkable relish. Okay, so maybe it is slightly personal.
Even so, Ethan’s dislike of her is lukewarm these days. He’d be a fool not to acknowledge the fact that without the Slayer the earth with all its creature comforts would have turned into a hellish wasteland long ago. And the naughty discoveries in Miss Summers’ dreamspace have given him an unexpected appreciation of her….
“I’ll do the talking,” Giles interrupts his musings, his tone stern, as though bracing himself for a long and tiring argument.
"Be my guest. The less I have to do with Mr. Rockbrain, the better." Ethan would shrug but he's too busy shivering and stomping his feet. “You better let me do the legwork, though. You’ll need all your strength, if you’re going to haggle with an elemental.”
Giles nods, his relief almost palpable.
tbc
This isn't my favourite section of the story, but since I dumped Ethan and Giles in the middle of bloody nowhere I had better make sure they don't freeze to death...,.
TITLE: Broken English Part 11
PAIRING: Giles/Ethan
RATING: will eventually be R
SPOILERS: Set after 8x04 The Long Way Home (comics); set in Germany, btw
PROMPT: a vacation or roadtrip, magic, slash
WRITTEN FOR: spikendru
Sorry, unbeta'd.
PREVIOUS PARTS: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10
“A protective circle?” Ethan blurts out. “From you? But you detest all forms of summoning magic!”
“I do.” Giles is glad that his voice is steady. “That’s why we are going to be careful.”
“We?”
“I wouldn’t even dream of trying this without you.”
It’s too dark to see Ethan’s face, but Giles can hear his sharp intake of breath.
A moment later, Ethan is crouching beside him. “So, what kind of offering do you have in mind?” Now that Ethan is close enough for Giles to be able to read his expression, his unfathomable half-smile is back. “Blood?”
He picks up Giles’s pocket knife and snaps it open to study the length of blade. ‘Mine’s longer,’ his arched eyebrow seems to say.
Giles sighs. ‘Grow up, will you?’ Yet, at the same time he feels a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. “I was thinking of trying the whiskey first.”
With a radiant smile, Ethan snaps the knife shut. “As you wish.”
* * * * * * * * * *
In spite of the mind-numbing cold, Ethan can’t stop grinning.
Performing a summoning ritual without the props, in the freezing cold, with most of their magic spent on the teleportation spell that dumped them in the middle of bloody nowhere, is insane, but it is Ethan’s kind of insane. Summoning Eyghon felt similar: like embarking on a journey to fabled shores on a ship barely seaworthy; both exhilarating and somewhat slightly mad. Only, this is where the similarities end. This is not a rollercoaster ride into danger for the sheer spite of it; not an attempt to keep an angry, rebellious Watcher-to-be at his side by steering him from one thrilling transgression to the next. This is about life and death.
“We need to know who or what we are dealing with,” Giles states.
“I can tell you this much: It’s not demonic. This place would feel different, if Sleeping Beauty were a demon.”
“Not good enough.”
“Your wish is my command.” Ethan closes his eyes and reaches out, touching the trees, the frozen sky and the snowy ground itself with his mind, like a tracker exploring a faint footprint with his fingertips. A quick sweep of their surroundings reveals slopes and chasms, crags and crevices; an inhospitable labyrinth of sharp edges and steep drops, that is dotted with stubborn pine trees and not much else. A hundred yards in either direction and the teleportation spell would have left both of them with broken bones. Trust Giles to take them to a place so remote, not even backpack tourists have left their mark. Even animals seem to shun this place, driven away by the instinctual knowledge that this part of the forest is already taken…
When Ethan opens his eyes again, he finds Giles watching him, his expression wistful.
“Well?”
“Elemental, no doubt about it. And like I said: old as grit.”
“Earth?”
“Down to earth, rock solid, a tad boring. Actually, that sounds an awful lot like someone I used to know." Ethan affects a heavy sigh. "Story of my life: I always run into powerful people who don’t play well with chaos….”
“Ethan!”
“What?”
“A simple ‘yes’, would have been quite enough.”
“A simple yes, then.” Ethan tries on a demure smile, but ends up throwing in a hint of shark, as well.
Giles shakes his head. Nevertheless, a hint of mirth reaches his eyes, causing Ethan’s heart to break into a jitter. For a fleeting second it feels as though nothing on this earth can stop them; as though the crazy impulse to just grab Giles by the collar and kiss him isn’t crazy at all.
The moment slips away too soon. Two heartbeats later they are two miserable old mystics again, desperate to get out of the cold.
Oh well, at least Giles has given him something useful to do. Ethan’s fingers are clumsy from the cold, but he manages to quickly tie the various pieces of clothing into a kind of rope. “Where do you want it?”
“This is as good a place as any.” Giles indicates the spot where he’s sitting.
Ethan has been drawing circles ever since he was thirteen. It’s easier with chalk on wooden floorboards than with an improvised rope on uneven ground, but the principle remains the same. When he’s finished, the circle is a pretty good approximation of round and emitting a soothing hum of power.
“I see you haven’t lost your touch." A faint smile washes over Giles’s features.
“Bah, child’s play.” Ethan shrugs. “Now what, Rupert? We both know that waking the elemental is the easy part. How do you plan on binding it before it grinds us into minced meat?”
Giles gestures at the small pile of objects they’ve gathered. “We cannot even hope to trap an elemental with this. Besides, we’re both low on power. Our only option is to negotiate.”
“Negotiate,” Ethan echoes, without inflection.
“If we can make the elemental believe that we are considerably more powerful than we actually are, we may be able to bargain with it, make it agree to a binding contract. Hopefully, before your protective circle runs out of juice.”
“That’s your plan? Trying to con an elemental?” Ethan’s chuckle turns into a bout of coughing. “Who are you, and what have you done to Rupert Giles?”
“I am quite aware of the irony, thank you very much.”
“And are you aware that elementals can see through illusions? You won’t be able fool it with things that aren’t there.”
“That’s why we’ll merely exaggerate.”
“Exaggerate?”
“I’ll need the trappings of a Magus, of course: Sword, chalice, coin…”
“… and wand. Right. And don’t forget the robe. You’ll definitely need a fancy robe, Gandalf. Not to mention a hat.”
“I’m beginning to think you’re not taking this seriously.” Giles picks up Ethan’s knife. “Here’s our sword.” He taps the blade against Ethan’s silver flask. “Here’s our chalice.”
Ethan blinks, blinks again, then breaks into a smile. “Look at you, Rupert! You’re full of surprises. Here I was, thinking that improvisation isn’t your strong suit.”
A sheepish expression washes over Giles’s features. “Yes, well, I suppose one cannot watch over Buffy for over seven years and not pick up a new trick or two.”
Buffy! For a second or two, Ethan savors the surge of animosity that the name sends through him: heart pumping, blood boiling… It’s an old grudge. Nothing personal. She just happens to be the girl Rupert swore an oath to protect. She also happens to be the girl who berated him whenever they met, and who beat him up with remarkable relish. Okay, so maybe it is slightly personal.
Even so, Ethan’s dislike of her is lukewarm these days. He’d be a fool not to acknowledge the fact that without the Slayer the earth with all its creature comforts would have turned into a hellish wasteland long ago. And the naughty discoveries in Miss Summers’ dreamspace have given him an unexpected appreciation of her….
“I’ll do the talking,” Giles interrupts his musings, his tone stern, as though bracing himself for a long and tiring argument.
"Be my guest. The less I have to do with Mr. Rockbrain, the better." Ethan would shrug but he's too busy shivering and stomping his feet. “You better let me do the legwork, though. You’ll need all your strength, if you’re going to haggle with an elemental.”
Giles nods, his relief almost palpable.
tbc