{buffyverse} winter's snow
Title: Winter's Snow
Author: Aaronlisa
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer / Angel
Pairing/Characters: Willow Rosenberg/Illyria
Rating: FR13
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel belong to Joss Whedon and company.
Prompts: Written for femslash_minis for brutti_ma_buoni who wanted the pairing along with Christmas, Illyria encountering some winter holiday(s) for the first time, Illyria specifically encountering a Santa hat, "the song of the green."
Notes: Set post BtVS Season Seven and AtS Season Five but does not contain spoilers for the comics for either series.
Summary: Willow and Illyria are on the run and somehow they wind up at the new Watcher's Council where Christmas is in full swing.
Word Count: 1989
By the time the pair of them make it to the elegant manor home in England that is the new Council headquarters, Christmas is three days away. There's snow falling heavily from the sky and Willow shivers in the cold air. Since she had teleported them from warm and sunny Brazil, she's not really dressed for the snow. Illyria pauses and turns her face upward. For a moment, Willow is reminded of a small child's wonder at snow, she can recall when she first felt snow falling on her face on holiday season when she had visited family in Michigan with her parents.
Illyria destroys the moment by turning angry eyes on Willow. The witch shivers, this time from the weight of that gaze instead of the cold, winter air.
"Why are we here?" Illyria demands.
Willow shrugs in response. "There's nowhere else to go."
It's not that far from the truth, she's thought of hiding the former god-king from Wolfram and Hart pretty much everywhere and they've barely managed to stay a step ahead. Willow might be the most powerful witch there is (especially if you listen to the likes of Xander and Kennedy) but she's still one witch going up against all of the resources that Wolfram and Hart have at their disposal. Illyria huffs an impatient sigh at her, pulling Willow from her recollections to the present moment.
"Why are we out here in this?" Illyria asks, gesturing at the snow.
"Oh," Willow says, realizing what Illyria had meant. "Well you can't just teleport into the Council headquarters, so I had to teleport us outside of them."
"I could teleport us inside of them."
If I still had my powers is silently tacked onto the end of Illyria's sentence. Willow bites her lower lip, uncertain of what to say. She doesn't doubt Illyria's power but from what she understands Wesley did a good job at muzzling that power to ensure that Illyria wouldn't turn into some sort of walking bomb.
"Well that might be the case but I can't, even if I did help to create the wards to prevent teleportation," Willow says. "Let's go before I freeze."
"It is not cold."
Willow rolls her eyes and turns her back on the stubborn former god-king. She wonders if all of the old ones are as delightful company as Illyria is. Illyria falls into step behind her and Willow wonders again how she managed to get the job of babysitting Illyria when Spike and Angel were clearly quite capable of doing so themselves. Sometimes, she realizes, it's better not to ask things like that.
* * *
By the time they make it into the building, Willow's hands are frozen, Illyria merely stares at her impassively as Willow's teeth chatters and the witch can't help but think that Illyria would watch her die with the same face. She turns away from Illyria's strange but familiar face and marches down the hallway that's dressed for the holiday season. Illyria falls into step.
"You are angry," Illyria points out.
Willow shrugs in response, she doesn't feel like explaining what she's feeling to the other woman. She has far more important things to do than try to explain things to someone who probably can't understand what Willow's feeling right now. For Illyria everything is either black or white, there's no grey of any sort. What she's feeling right now kind of falls into that grey category.
They wind up in a lavish library that has a massive tree decorated with glass decorations and bright lights. While Willow tries to find a phone Illyria gravitates towards the tea. Willow pauses as she watches Illyria stand there, her face illuminated by the bright, festive coloured lights. She can't quite decide if it makes Illyria look more human or inhuman.
"I do not understand this holiday. Fred's memories are a mixture of religious ceremony and pagan symbolism."
"Yeah that pretty much sums up Christmas once you add in the mass consumerism," Willow replies.
She finds the phone and turns away from Illyria. It's odd how she can be both inhuman and human at once. It's hurtful how she doesn't seem to care about casually tossing the fact that she stole Fred's life from her about. Willow barely knew Fred but it hurts that she was never told what was going on. She could have saved Fred if she had known. At the same time, she feels guilty because there's something about Illyria that makes her ache.
* * *
The pair of them somehow get roped into some juvenile holiday event that is being hosted at the Council headquarters for the younger Slayers. The wards and the fact that there's hundreds of Slayers in this one building keep Illyria and Willow safe from Wolfram and Hart. She should feel safe but she feels uneasy, like something's going to happen. It could be how Illyria's wearing a Santa hat looking rather perplexed, a mixture of herself and Fred, while the younger Slayers are laughing and giggling as they accept gifts from Illyria.
Willow suspects that it's probably the only time that Illyria has ever been surrounded by the young of a species and hasn't decimated them. It sends shivers up her spine when she thinks about how they all treat Illyria. It's as if they all expect her to be something she's not. This whole thing would be something Fred would do, not the former god-king. Illyria is more suited to planning the war against Wolfram and Hart. Wesley might have muzzled her but at the end of the day, Illyria is not Fred, she is one of the original demons.
Illyria looks over at her and Willow wonders if her thoughts are written on her face when Illyria grimaces. She is not Fred no matter how much she looks like her and Willow suddenly fears that they are making a big mistake by trusting Illyria to behave around the children. She could easily kill one out of curiousity.
She moves closer to Willow. Her voice is hushed.
"You fear for their safety," Illyria states. "From me."
"Yes," Willow responds. She sees no reason in lying.
"I would not harm them."
Willow wants to ask why. Is it because of the shards of Fred's soul that are still inside the shell of her old body or is because Illyria has no desire to harm the children. Either way it doesn't matter, so she bits her tongue to keep quiet. Illyria pulls the Santa hat off of her head and glares at the polyester hat.
"I do not understand this holiday," Illyria flatly states. "What is the significance of wearing this hat that a make-believe fat man who gives gifts wears?"
"There is none," Willow tells her. "It's just to make you feel like Santa."
"I do not understand."
Willow shrugs in response ."I don't really celebrate Christmas."
* * *
They've left the children behind and are making their way upstairs. Willow is beyond tired. Illyria might not need sleep but she does. The clear and high voices of the younger Slayers follow them and Willow's not quite sure what song they are singing. It's some song about something green, it really doesn't make sense to her. If she wasn't so tired, she'd find Xander or Buffy and ask them about it. But right now, she just wants to sleep.
Illyria follows her and for some reason instead of unnerving her Willow finds it comforting. At the top of the stairs, Illyria pauses and grabs Willow's hand. Willow stops and looks at the blue haired woman expectantly. Illyria points up to the mistletoe that's been hung at the top of the stairs.
"What is that?" Illyria asks.
"Mistletoe," Willow replies before yawning.
"Why is it hung there like that, there are no other plants here?"
Willow sighs. She doesn't really want to explain the whole significance of mistletoe because she suspects that Illyria will have more questions than she has answers. She wonders if she can pawn Illyria off on Buffy or Xander for a moment before she launches into the meaning of it.
"It is to make you kiss?"
"Pretty much."
"And what if you are standing under it with someone you do not desire?"
"I don't know, you kiss them on the cheek or you ignore it, it's not as if the mistletoe can force you to kiss."
"Your customs are strange and meaningless. If you can choose who you kiss then what is the point?"
Before Willow can respond, Illyria has moved so that she is holding Willow in her arms. Willow feels a rush of nerves that she has felt before. She wants to ask what is happening but the sinking sensation in her stomach tells her that Illyria wishes to explore the whole kissing under the mistletoe thing.
The kiss is a chaste brushing of cold lips against Willow's warm ones. It leaves Willow feeling confused.
"I don't feel any different than before," Illyria tells her.
Illyria leans down again and presses her lips against Willow's lips again. This time the kiss is harder and fierce, it's raw as if Illyria is chasing something, Willow places her hands on Illyria's waist, holding the woman closer to her as she deepens the kiss. She's not quite sure what she's trying to prove. Perhaps it's just a simple case of her trying to shut Illyria up. If she can feel something, feel just a small portion of the magic of the holiday then maybe Willow can crawl into bed and sleep.
Willow's not expecting for Illyria to push her until her back's pressed against the wall and Illyria's cold hands are running underneath her cotton shirt against Willow's bare skin. It's too much, too fast but it's hardly enough. When they pull away from one another, Illyria looks at her as if she's nothing more than a specimen under a microscope. Willow pushes Illyria away. She's not interested in being someone else's experiment.
"I need to sleep and you need to do whatever it is that you do," Willow dismissively says.
* * *
Willow wakes up with the winter sunlight in her face. She turns over onto her stomach but she's wide awake. There's no point in trying to fall back asleep.
"Xander tells me that you are Jewish."
Illyria's voice startles her and Willow rushes to cover herself as she tries to sit up to face Illyria.
"I am," Willow finally states.
"You do not celebrate this Christmas holiday," Illyria says.
"No but I don't really celebrate anything around this time of year."
There's a hint of bitterness in Willow's tone that she hopes Illyria hasn't picked up. She has no one to celebrate with. Illyria cocks her head as she stares at Willow.
"Come with me," Illyria states.
Thankfully Willow is given enough time to dress warmly before Illyria drags her outside. It seems even colder despite the warm wool garments she's clothed in, once again Illyria seems unaffected by the weather. Illyria leads her to a small grove of trees and they sit on a fallen log side by side, breathing in the cold air.
"Why did you bring me here?"
"Xander said you might feel more comforted by nature than by the noise of the house celebrating Christmas."
There is something magical about the woods and the quiet of the snow falling around them. Willow calls upon the elements and the area is charged with the power of nature causing Illyria to give her a brief smile. Illyria shifts until their lips are pressing together again, a gentle kiss. For the first time since Illyria has been in her care, Willow doesn't worry about the power that this woman holds and her indifference to the human condition. Instead she pulls Illyria closer and just shows her what it all means with her lips and her hands.
((END))
Author: Aaronlisa
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer / Angel
Pairing/Characters: Willow Rosenberg/Illyria
Rating: FR13
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Angel belong to Joss Whedon and company.
Prompts: Written for femslash_minis for brutti_ma_buoni who wanted the pairing along with Christmas, Illyria encountering some winter holiday(s) for the first time, Illyria specifically encountering a Santa hat, "the song of the green."
Notes: Set post BtVS Season Seven and AtS Season Five but does not contain spoilers for the comics for either series.
Summary: Willow and Illyria are on the run and somehow they wind up at the new Watcher's Council where Christmas is in full swing.
Word Count: 1989
By the time the pair of them make it to the elegant manor home in England that is the new Council headquarters, Christmas is three days away. There's snow falling heavily from the sky and Willow shivers in the cold air. Since she had teleported them from warm and sunny Brazil, she's not really dressed for the snow. Illyria pauses and turns her face upward. For a moment, Willow is reminded of a small child's wonder at snow, she can recall when she first felt snow falling on her face on holiday season when she had visited family in Michigan with her parents.
Illyria destroys the moment by turning angry eyes on Willow. The witch shivers, this time from the weight of that gaze instead of the cold, winter air.
"Why are we here?" Illyria demands.
Willow shrugs in response. "There's nowhere else to go."
It's not that far from the truth, she's thought of hiding the former god-king from Wolfram and Hart pretty much everywhere and they've barely managed to stay a step ahead. Willow might be the most powerful witch there is (especially if you listen to the likes of Xander and Kennedy) but she's still one witch going up against all of the resources that Wolfram and Hart have at their disposal. Illyria huffs an impatient sigh at her, pulling Willow from her recollections to the present moment.
"Why are we out here in this?" Illyria asks, gesturing at the snow.
"Oh," Willow says, realizing what Illyria had meant. "Well you can't just teleport into the Council headquarters, so I had to teleport us outside of them."
"I could teleport us inside of them."
If I still had my powers is silently tacked onto the end of Illyria's sentence. Willow bites her lower lip, uncertain of what to say. She doesn't doubt Illyria's power but from what she understands Wesley did a good job at muzzling that power to ensure that Illyria wouldn't turn into some sort of walking bomb.
"Well that might be the case but I can't, even if I did help to create the wards to prevent teleportation," Willow says. "Let's go before I freeze."
"It is not cold."
Willow rolls her eyes and turns her back on the stubborn former god-king. She wonders if all of the old ones are as delightful company as Illyria is. Illyria falls into step behind her and Willow wonders again how she managed to get the job of babysitting Illyria when Spike and Angel were clearly quite capable of doing so themselves. Sometimes, she realizes, it's better not to ask things like that.
* * *
By the time they make it into the building, Willow's hands are frozen, Illyria merely stares at her impassively as Willow's teeth chatters and the witch can't help but think that Illyria would watch her die with the same face. She turns away from Illyria's strange but familiar face and marches down the hallway that's dressed for the holiday season. Illyria falls into step.
"You are angry," Illyria points out.
Willow shrugs in response, she doesn't feel like explaining what she's feeling to the other woman. She has far more important things to do than try to explain things to someone who probably can't understand what Willow's feeling right now. For Illyria everything is either black or white, there's no grey of any sort. What she's feeling right now kind of falls into that grey category.
They wind up in a lavish library that has a massive tree decorated with glass decorations and bright lights. While Willow tries to find a phone Illyria gravitates towards the tea. Willow pauses as she watches Illyria stand there, her face illuminated by the bright, festive coloured lights. She can't quite decide if it makes Illyria look more human or inhuman.
"I do not understand this holiday. Fred's memories are a mixture of religious ceremony and pagan symbolism."
"Yeah that pretty much sums up Christmas once you add in the mass consumerism," Willow replies.
She finds the phone and turns away from Illyria. It's odd how she can be both inhuman and human at once. It's hurtful how she doesn't seem to care about casually tossing the fact that she stole Fred's life from her about. Willow barely knew Fred but it hurts that she was never told what was going on. She could have saved Fred if she had known. At the same time, she feels guilty because there's something about Illyria that makes her ache.
* * *
The pair of them somehow get roped into some juvenile holiday event that is being hosted at the Council headquarters for the younger Slayers. The wards and the fact that there's hundreds of Slayers in this one building keep Illyria and Willow safe from Wolfram and Hart. She should feel safe but she feels uneasy, like something's going to happen. It could be how Illyria's wearing a Santa hat looking rather perplexed, a mixture of herself and Fred, while the younger Slayers are laughing and giggling as they accept gifts from Illyria.
Willow suspects that it's probably the only time that Illyria has ever been surrounded by the young of a species and hasn't decimated them. It sends shivers up her spine when she thinks about how they all treat Illyria. It's as if they all expect her to be something she's not. This whole thing would be something Fred would do, not the former god-king. Illyria is more suited to planning the war against Wolfram and Hart. Wesley might have muzzled her but at the end of the day, Illyria is not Fred, she is one of the original demons.
Illyria looks over at her and Willow wonders if her thoughts are written on her face when Illyria grimaces. She is not Fred no matter how much she looks like her and Willow suddenly fears that they are making a big mistake by trusting Illyria to behave around the children. She could easily kill one out of curiousity.
She moves closer to Willow. Her voice is hushed.
"You fear for their safety," Illyria states. "From me."
"Yes," Willow responds. She sees no reason in lying.
"I would not harm them."
Willow wants to ask why. Is it because of the shards of Fred's soul that are still inside the shell of her old body or is because Illyria has no desire to harm the children. Either way it doesn't matter, so she bits her tongue to keep quiet. Illyria pulls the Santa hat off of her head and glares at the polyester hat.
"I do not understand this holiday," Illyria flatly states. "What is the significance of wearing this hat that a make-believe fat man who gives gifts wears?"
"There is none," Willow tells her. "It's just to make you feel like Santa."
"I do not understand."
Willow shrugs in response ."I don't really celebrate Christmas."
* * *
They've left the children behind and are making their way upstairs. Willow is beyond tired. Illyria might not need sleep but she does. The clear and high voices of the younger Slayers follow them and Willow's not quite sure what song they are singing. It's some song about something green, it really doesn't make sense to her. If she wasn't so tired, she'd find Xander or Buffy and ask them about it. But right now, she just wants to sleep.
Illyria follows her and for some reason instead of unnerving her Willow finds it comforting. At the top of the stairs, Illyria pauses and grabs Willow's hand. Willow stops and looks at the blue haired woman expectantly. Illyria points up to the mistletoe that's been hung at the top of the stairs.
"What is that?" Illyria asks.
"Mistletoe," Willow replies before yawning.
"Why is it hung there like that, there are no other plants here?"
Willow sighs. She doesn't really want to explain the whole significance of mistletoe because she suspects that Illyria will have more questions than she has answers. She wonders if she can pawn Illyria off on Buffy or Xander for a moment before she launches into the meaning of it.
"It is to make you kiss?"
"Pretty much."
"And what if you are standing under it with someone you do not desire?"
"I don't know, you kiss them on the cheek or you ignore it, it's not as if the mistletoe can force you to kiss."
"Your customs are strange and meaningless. If you can choose who you kiss then what is the point?"
Before Willow can respond, Illyria has moved so that she is holding Willow in her arms. Willow feels a rush of nerves that she has felt before. She wants to ask what is happening but the sinking sensation in her stomach tells her that Illyria wishes to explore the whole kissing under the mistletoe thing.
The kiss is a chaste brushing of cold lips against Willow's warm ones. It leaves Willow feeling confused.
"I don't feel any different than before," Illyria tells her.
Illyria leans down again and presses her lips against Willow's lips again. This time the kiss is harder and fierce, it's raw as if Illyria is chasing something, Willow places her hands on Illyria's waist, holding the woman closer to her as she deepens the kiss. She's not quite sure what she's trying to prove. Perhaps it's just a simple case of her trying to shut Illyria up. If she can feel something, feel just a small portion of the magic of the holiday then maybe Willow can crawl into bed and sleep.
Willow's not expecting for Illyria to push her until her back's pressed against the wall and Illyria's cold hands are running underneath her cotton shirt against Willow's bare skin. It's too much, too fast but it's hardly enough. When they pull away from one another, Illyria looks at her as if she's nothing more than a specimen under a microscope. Willow pushes Illyria away. She's not interested in being someone else's experiment.
"I need to sleep and you need to do whatever it is that you do," Willow dismissively says.
* * *
Willow wakes up with the winter sunlight in her face. She turns over onto her stomach but she's wide awake. There's no point in trying to fall back asleep.
"Xander tells me that you are Jewish."
Illyria's voice startles her and Willow rushes to cover herself as she tries to sit up to face Illyria.
"I am," Willow finally states.
"You do not celebrate this Christmas holiday," Illyria says.
"No but I don't really celebrate anything around this time of year."
There's a hint of bitterness in Willow's tone that she hopes Illyria hasn't picked up. She has no one to celebrate with. Illyria cocks her head as she stares at Willow.
"Come with me," Illyria states.
Thankfully Willow is given enough time to dress warmly before Illyria drags her outside. It seems even colder despite the warm wool garments she's clothed in, once again Illyria seems unaffected by the weather. Illyria leads her to a small grove of trees and they sit on a fallen log side by side, breathing in the cold air.
"Why did you bring me here?"
"Xander said you might feel more comforted by nature than by the noise of the house celebrating Christmas."
There is something magical about the woods and the quiet of the snow falling around them. Willow calls upon the elements and the area is charged with the power of nature causing Illyria to give her a brief smile. Illyria shifts until their lips are pressing together again, a gentle kiss. For the first time since Illyria has been in her care, Willow doesn't worry about the power that this woman holds and her indifference to the human condition. Instead she pulls Illyria closer and just shows her what it all means with her lips and her hands.
((END))