Living as Lenore: Chapter 37 "The More Things Change..." (SPN/BTVS)
Title: Living as Lenore
Author: Luna (aka Luna_del_Cielo on lj)
Fandom: Supernatural/Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Cast of Characters: Tara/Lenore McLeod, Fergus McLeod/Crowley, Loki/Gabriel, Anya, Castiel, Kali, Eli, Angel, Darla, the Immortal, Bilquis, Spike, Drusilla, Dean, Sam, Scoobies
Rating: T
Summary: Willow tried to bring Tara back…and she did. Unfortunately, she was brought back to life in 1672. Now 'Lenore' has to deal with witches, demons, pagan gods, and even angels, as she struggles to find the red-haired woman she sees in her dreams.
Pairings: Anya/Gabriel, Anya/Crowley, Lenore/Kali, Lenore/Immortal, Lenore/Gabriel, Lenore/Willow
Spoilers: BTVS S6E19 ‘Seeing Red’, SPN S2E3 ‘Bloodlust’. Spoilers for Crowley's past in S6 “Weekend at Bobby’s” and Trickster/Loki's past in S5 ‘Changing Channels’
Warnings: Character death, Femslash (nothing explicit)
Read specific chapters here: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 |Chapter 22| Chapter 23| Chapter 24| Chapter 25| Chapter 26| Chapter 27| Chapter 28|Chapter 29| Chapter 30| Chapter 31| Chapter 32| Chapter 33| Chapter 34| Chapter 35| Chapter 36
Or all of the entire story: here
The More Things Change…
April 10, 1912
Southampton, England
The sun had risen an hour ago but the clouds obscured most of the harmful rays, allowing Lenore to walk through the busy docks of Southampton without much pain. Today she dressed like a wealthy woman, with a sleek white and blue pinstriped dress and a white church hat with a wide brim that, if the sun did peek out, would hide her effectively from its rays. She breathed in the air, smelling of salt water and coal; the trademark scents of any dock boasting several steamships. Of course, this particular dock held a particular steamship that she had only heard of in history class and in the most famous movie of her time - The Titanic.
“Lenore, why did you want to come here? It’s so depressing,” Loki grimaced as he clasped her hand. He wore a dapper black suit with a dark blue tie that stood in stark contrast to his warm amber eyes.
“Loki, it’s history, that’s why,” she rebuffed him. She and Willow had loved the Leo and Kate movie (gay or straight, it was one of the best love stories ever) and when she realized the actual ship was about to set sail, she had to visit.
“It’s not history yet,” he reminded her. Loki studied her silently. “You do realize that as we begin to approach your other lifetime that you’re bound to remember lots of historical events, right?” His tone was even and measured; she could not decipher it.
“Well, yes. I know,” Lenore answered him, curious as to why he would ask that.
He stopped walking just then and pulled her gently to look at him. “Then you know that you can’t change history, right? You can’t do anything to impact the timelines,” Loki reminded her in a serious voice.
Lenore shook her head and glared at him, feeling rather defensive. “It’s not as though I plan telling the captain to look out for a bloody iceberg, Loki,” she hissed quietly, all too aware that dozens of people were milling in the vicinity, some coming so close as to brush against her back. “And I don’t appreciate being treated like a child. I know what I’m doing.”
Loki shut his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. “That wasn’t what I meant. But I know this ‘seer’ business of yours is only going to get worse, Lenore. I just want you to be careful,” he explained tiredly.
She pressed her lips together, wishing she could take back the way she had spoken to him. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Lenore leaned forward to give him a gentle kiss. His hand slid up to hold the back of her neck and he pressed her closer, deepening the kiss. Lenore let out a little moan of pleasure and her hand tangled in his hair.
When they pulled away they were both smiling. “I love when you get mad at me,” Loki smirked.
Lenore huffed and began leading him farther down the docks. “You are simply incorrigible, my dear Trickster.”
“Oh yes,” Loki murmured as he took in the sight of her womanly form sashaying down the wooden path.
Looking back, Lenore giggled. Her lover could be so silly at times.
Fifteen minutes later they were immersed in the madness of the loading dock for the Titanic. The ship was immense and more breathtaking than what the movies even suggested it to be. It was longer than seventy-five automobiles lined end to end and towered almost two-hundred feet above them, if she counted the four majestic funnels that stood like valiant soldiers in a row. She could feel the presence of hundreds of people in the ship, working in the lower echelon of the construction. Hundreds more clambered onto the ship, carrying an assortment of luggage, children, or sometimes nothing at all. The noise was deafening - and not just their voices but the beating of so many hearts at once.
There were so many souls here.
Tears formed in Lenore’s eyes as that simple realization struck her with the piercing pain of an icicle, cold and sharp. As Tara she had heard about the tragedy of the Titanic, but now that she was here, listening to its future victims…
“Mommy, mommy, Victoria stole my doll!”
“Give it back sweetheart or else I’ll tell the captain to make you sleep outside.”
“Do you have the tickets?”
“Here, help me carry this.”
“I’ll take that, darling.”
“Does my dress look alright? What shall I wear for dinner tonight?”
“I heard they even have a swimming pool.”
Lenore felt Loki wrap his arms around her as he rested his chin on her shoulders. The weight of his presence behind her brought her back to reality and she sought to control her emotions. “These poor people,” she whispered.
“Want me to take you home?” Loki asked gently.
“No.” Lenore shook her head. “I want to stay a while.” Perhaps she would be able to tell this story to Willow one day.
Lenore listened to the humans prepare for departure; the symphony of fond farewells, delight, and worry. But then something almost inaudible echoed into her sensitive ears - a scream.
“Where did that come from?” Lenore inquired, her senses on alert.
Loki closed his eyes and breathed in deeply as he concentrated on the noise. “From within the ship, only one floor below deck.”
Lenore zeroed in on the sound and heard the scream turn to struggling gasps…and the distinct sound of something growling. “Loki, someone’s being attacked. We should help,” she stated urgently.
He hesitated, biting his lip. “Lenore, we can’t change the-”
“-the future, yes I know. But if that was the case then I never should have saved any of the lives I should have. Come now, it’s just one person,” Lenore pleaded, her eyes never wavering from hers.
Loki sighed. “Fine.” He snapped his fingers and they were suddenly on board below deck, alarming an older woman and her teenage son.
“My stars!” the woman shrieked.
“Howdy!” Loki grinned amicably with a tip of his black hat. Then he steered Lenore down the hall and towards the sounds of the person under attack.
“Here.” Lenore glanced down the hall, seeing no one was close by, and whispered an incantation to open the door. It swung open, revealing a vampire sucking into a middle-aged man while a young blond-haired woman looked on, disheveled and dazed from her slumped position against the wall.
“Hey!” Lenore shouted. “Back off!” The creature turned to her and Lenore gasped at the sight, for there in front of her was her old ally Déshèng who had abandoned her after Bilquis killed his progeny Alka. In fact, it was Déshèng who had ordered her to leave the clan after she failed to kill him.
Déshèng blinked, a rather comical look on the five foot three vampire’s bloodied face with his glistening fangs. “Lenore. What are you doing here?” he asked scathingly.
“You know him?” Loki asked in shock.
“Déshèng was a council member of my clan…before he ordered me away,” Lenore explained, her body going rigid at the memory.
Throwing the man onto the bed; the man breathing his last breaths after Déshèng’s attack, the vampire sneered at her. “Ordered you away because you failed us, Lenore. Alka, the others…all dead because of you, when it should have been you.”
Lenore let out an angry grunting noise at his words. “I admitted back then that I erred and explained how I had been held captive by those working for Bilquis. But this is how you honor Alka’s memory? By feeding on humans again?”
“These humans are hunters!” Déshèng spat. “They have been chasing me for six months and today I will have it no more. They deserve death - first the man and then his daughter.”
The blond girl, no more than sixteen years old, was glaring at Déshèng and gritting her teeth.
“You cannot harm her. That is the code,” Lenore snapped.
Déshèng moved like lightning and struck her cheek. “YOUR code, Lenore! Your code! It is unnatural, for us to live like this. Your entrance into our lives all those years ago was a curse!”
Loki growled and threw Déshèng against the back wall, the plaster cracking at the impact. “Touch her again and it’s your head, vampire.” Pure power trickled out of Loki, filling the room until it’s pressure was a heavy touch against her skin.
The scent of blood, dying blood, and power and anger were making Lenore feel light-headed - and there was something familiar about the scent of this blood, but she could not identify what. “I only sought to make things better for us all!” she half-shouted, half-pleaded. Lenore would do anything to get Déshèng to stop staring at her with that undiluted hatred in his eyes. They may have quarreled often over the right course of action in their council meetings but Déshèng had always been a friendly ally to her.
“You were a fool,” Déshèng countered.
“Then you were the fool that followed her!” Loki hissed, his voice like snakes snapping to bite at the Chinese vampire.
“Loki, I can handle this,” Lenore whispered, her voice shaky but sure.
Loki glanced at her and she could see that he understood, even if he didn’t like it.
“Leave now, Déshèng. Leave without hurting these humans further and we can avoid each other for all of eternity, if that is what you wish,” Lenore offered, her voice falling like raindrops into the river, becoming more powerful with each word spoken.
Déshèng laughed cruelly and shook his head. “I will leave…after the chit gets it.” He leapt for the girl but Lenore intercepted him and kicked him backwards.
“And for that, you will die Lenore,” Déshèng growled, clearly looking for any reason to battle her.
“Déshèng, please,” Lenore begged, unwilling to engage in bloodshed after so many years of refrain. But then Déshèng leapt at her and she knew there was no choice. Lenore pivoted away gracefully, a fairly easy task in the large first-class quarters, and gestured for Loki to move back - if Déshèng had to die than Lenore would do it herself; she could not rely on her lover for everything.
Her former ally roared towards her, his arms slashing down in precise kung-fu moves - which was ironic because Déshèng had been one of the people who had instructed Lenore in kung-fu. She pushed backwards on the balls of her feet, her hand catching her before she hit the ground, and swept her legs under Déshèng’s feet. Jumping up, Lenore looked for the closest weapon.
“Here!” the girl shouted, her voice stronger than Lenore would have thought at this moment. It just went to show her how much stronger hunters were than regular humans - no matter what they faced, they faced it with a level head. A jeweled dagger sailed through the air and Lenore caught it before dancing backwards to avoid Déshèng’s own knife.
“Don’t make me do this,” Lenore asked once more in a quavering voice.
Déshèng let out a harsh laugh. “What are you afraid of? Won’t you go to your god when you die?” he asked mockingly.
“He’s your god, too,” Lenore retorted as she parried a slash towards her midsection. But even as the words left her lips, she knew them to be a lie. Anya had explained to Lenore and Fergus years ago about Purgatory and Lenore knew she would never get to heaven - nor would any other of her brethren.
That sidetracked thought allowed Déshèng to slash across her back and she tried to twist away from him, bringing with it fresh pain and a spray of blood from the deep cut. She was fortunate he missed her spine.
Lenore leapt onto the nearby wall and pushed off, flipping over Déshèng and landing at his back. Without another wasted moment, Lenore cut into Déshèng’s neck, severing his head completely.
Shaky hands dropped the dagger and Lenore let out a brief sob at the grotesque image surrounding her. This was not what she had wanted, ever. She collapsed onto the ground and prayed for forgiveness, and begged god to help her other former clan members; she prayed ardently that Eli and Kitra and the others had not turned to dark ways.
“Lenore?”
She waved away Loki’s words. Lenore couldn’t deal with him now. Although she loved him, Loki was an outsider in all of this. He did not understand why it was evil to kill humans nor why she would feel guilty that one of her clan members would stray. After all, he, Odin, and the children regularly engaged in vicious acts.
Lenore wasn’t sure how long she had sat there praying, with only Loki’s silence, the girl’s breathing, and the dying man’s jolted breaths, as the only sounds; but suddenly a vision passed through her mind’s eye. Visions had been common ever since she was a human and since she turned vampire she could see the moment when each of her descendents died and glimpsed a bit of their life. It was the only way she could keep track of her brethren and while she did not write these family trees onto paper (for security reasons) she had a perfect mental image.
The man she saw now was named Ryan Campbell, a well-muscled man with a graying mustache and silver hair that he shorn just above his ears. He was a descendent of Dawn’s, her youngest child that had almost died as a babe (had it not been for Loki’s interference). Ryan’s wife had died in a vampire attack years ago and now he traveled the world with his only daughter, Anne, and they both hunted vampire together; which was a tradition he had grown up with. But his life ended today at the hands of a vampire…
Lenore let out a choking sob and her eyes immediately sought out the humans in the room - well, the one human and her dead father.
Lenore’s descendents.
She swallowed heavily, now realizing why Ryan Campbell’s blood had smelled so familiar - it was the blood of her kin.
The girl, Anne, was sitting on the bed, holding her father’s hands and crying quietly. Lenore looked upon her with her second sight and saw a brilliant red and blue pulsing aura shining around the girl’s head. Anne possessed none of her families’ magical traits but she was a hunter, make no mistake about it. But there was something peaceful about the girl and Lenore reckoned that she would make and excellent doctor or nurse someday (until the women’s revolution started the girl was more likely to become a nurse, she supposed).
“I’m sorry for your father’s death,” Lenore spoke softly, the sincerity ringing out as she looked upon her descendant’s corpse; not since Drusilla was killed in front of her had Lenore witnessed such a terrible occurrence in front of her eyes.
The girl looked up, her blue eyes shining with wet tears. “Thank you for killing that beast.” An angry noise passed her lips. “I hate vampires.”
Lenore sighed softly, knowing that it was better for her daughter’s daughter to hate her kind rather than risk her to soften her stance and be open to vulnerabilities. “Well you’re safe now.”
But then as the words passed through Lenore’s lips a painful sensation circled in her chest. She looked up at Loki, seeing his expression taut and stern. “Are you…are you going to America?” Lenore asked the girl, this Anne girl that was of her blood.
“Yes. We have cousins there,” Anne nodded.
“Perhaps you should take the next ship. This one is bad luck,” Lenore offered, trying her hardest to sound casual.
“Lenore!” Loki barked, clearly angry that she was attempting to change Fate.
Anne looked from Lenore to Loki, and back again. “I cannot miss my meeting. My family is expecting me. Why would you say I should leave?” Anne asked, puzzled.
“I-”
“Lenore, we should go. Now.”
She shook away Loki’s sudden grasp on her arm.
“I just, well, with your father’s death…Perhaps this is not an idea time to travel,” Lenore stated weakly.
But Anne was stubborn - ah, what a trait to inherit. She and her father looked nothing like Dawn, nor Lenore, but inheritable characteristics included more than just physical appearances.
“No, I won’t let this vampire stop me. I have no family in England, anyway.” Anne looked down sadly at her father. “Not anymore.”
“But Anne-” Lenore wanted to beg, wanted to plead with her daughter’s daughter to stay here and take a different ship. After all, Lenore owned a small fortune in her Wolfram and Hart accounts; she could take care of Anne until the next ship departed.
Anne looked at her sharply. “How do you know my name?” she asked in a calculated and cold voice.
Lenore recoiled, angry at her misstep. “I…one of the crewmen, he told me.”
“And how did you know I was here? Or that we were in trouble?” Anne stood up, her gaze hardened. “Are you Hunters? Or…are you something we hunt?”
If Lenore had to breathe to live, she would die soon because her lungs were on pause and she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. The accusations in Anne’s eyes reminded her of Elspeth’s, when her second cousin was on her death bed.
Oh, how the more things change, the more they stay the same…
“That’s it, we’re going,” Loki stated in a determined voice as he grasped her upper arms and teleported them back home in the Norwegian mountains.
Over the next four days Lenore was frantic, weaving a path outside in the woods as she walked back and forth in fear and anger and suffering. It did not help that Loki was angry at her for failing to adhere to her promise not to attempt to change the timelines. But Lenore could not help it! She could not let someone she loved die! Not again!
In the back of her mind she wondered just how she would be able to refrain from interfering in roughly ninety years when she met Willow.
There was one ray of moonlight to brighten her mood - April 14th came and went, with no visions of Anne’s death. Her descendent survived the sinking of the Titanic, and for that Lenore was most thankful for God’s mercy.
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A/N
Thank you for reading, Dearest Readers!
Author: Luna (aka Luna_del_Cielo on lj)
Fandom: Supernatural/Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Cast of Characters: Tara/Lenore McLeod, Fergus McLeod/Crowley, Loki/Gabriel, Anya, Castiel, Kali, Eli, Angel, Darla, the Immortal, Bilquis, Spike, Drusilla, Dean, Sam, Scoobies
Rating: T
Summary: Willow tried to bring Tara back…and she did. Unfortunately, she was brought back to life in 1672. Now 'Lenore' has to deal with witches, demons, pagan gods, and even angels, as she struggles to find the red-haired woman she sees in her dreams.
Pairings: Anya/Gabriel, Anya/Crowley, Lenore/Kali, Lenore/Immortal, Lenore/Gabriel, Lenore/Willow
Spoilers: BTVS S6E19 ‘Seeing Red’, SPN S2E3 ‘Bloodlust’. Spoilers for Crowley's past in S6 “Weekend at Bobby’s” and Trickster/Loki's past in S5 ‘Changing Channels’
Warnings: Character death, Femslash (nothing explicit)
Read specific chapters here: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 |Chapter 22| Chapter 23| Chapter 24| Chapter 25| Chapter 26| Chapter 27| Chapter 28|Chapter 29| Chapter 30| Chapter 31| Chapter 32| Chapter 33| Chapter 34| Chapter 35| Chapter 36
Or all of the entire story: here
The More Things Change…
April 10, 1912
Southampton, England
The sun had risen an hour ago but the clouds obscured most of the harmful rays, allowing Lenore to walk through the busy docks of Southampton without much pain. Today she dressed like a wealthy woman, with a sleek white and blue pinstriped dress and a white church hat with a wide brim that, if the sun did peek out, would hide her effectively from its rays. She breathed in the air, smelling of salt water and coal; the trademark scents of any dock boasting several steamships. Of course, this particular dock held a particular steamship that she had only heard of in history class and in the most famous movie of her time - The Titanic.
“Lenore, why did you want to come here? It’s so depressing,” Loki grimaced as he clasped her hand. He wore a dapper black suit with a dark blue tie that stood in stark contrast to his warm amber eyes.
“Loki, it’s history, that’s why,” she rebuffed him. She and Willow had loved the Leo and Kate movie (gay or straight, it was one of the best love stories ever) and when she realized the actual ship was about to set sail, she had to visit.
“It’s not history yet,” he reminded her. Loki studied her silently. “You do realize that as we begin to approach your other lifetime that you’re bound to remember lots of historical events, right?” His tone was even and measured; she could not decipher it.
“Well, yes. I know,” Lenore answered him, curious as to why he would ask that.
He stopped walking just then and pulled her gently to look at him. “Then you know that you can’t change history, right? You can’t do anything to impact the timelines,” Loki reminded her in a serious voice.
Lenore shook her head and glared at him, feeling rather defensive. “It’s not as though I plan telling the captain to look out for a bloody iceberg, Loki,” she hissed quietly, all too aware that dozens of people were milling in the vicinity, some coming so close as to brush against her back. “And I don’t appreciate being treated like a child. I know what I’m doing.”
Loki shut his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. “That wasn’t what I meant. But I know this ‘seer’ business of yours is only going to get worse, Lenore. I just want you to be careful,” he explained tiredly.
She pressed her lips together, wishing she could take back the way she had spoken to him. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” Lenore leaned forward to give him a gentle kiss. His hand slid up to hold the back of her neck and he pressed her closer, deepening the kiss. Lenore let out a little moan of pleasure and her hand tangled in his hair.
When they pulled away they were both smiling. “I love when you get mad at me,” Loki smirked.
Lenore huffed and began leading him farther down the docks. “You are simply incorrigible, my dear Trickster.”
“Oh yes,” Loki murmured as he took in the sight of her womanly form sashaying down the wooden path.
Looking back, Lenore giggled. Her lover could be so silly at times.
Fifteen minutes later they were immersed in the madness of the loading dock for the Titanic. The ship was immense and more breathtaking than what the movies even suggested it to be. It was longer than seventy-five automobiles lined end to end and towered almost two-hundred feet above them, if she counted the four majestic funnels that stood like valiant soldiers in a row. She could feel the presence of hundreds of people in the ship, working in the lower echelon of the construction. Hundreds more clambered onto the ship, carrying an assortment of luggage, children, or sometimes nothing at all. The noise was deafening - and not just their voices but the beating of so many hearts at once.
There were so many souls here.
Tears formed in Lenore’s eyes as that simple realization struck her with the piercing pain of an icicle, cold and sharp. As Tara she had heard about the tragedy of the Titanic, but now that she was here, listening to its future victims…
“Mommy, mommy, Victoria stole my doll!”
“Give it back sweetheart or else I’ll tell the captain to make you sleep outside.”
“Do you have the tickets?”
“Here, help me carry this.”
“I’ll take that, darling.”
“Does my dress look alright? What shall I wear for dinner tonight?”
“I heard they even have a swimming pool.”
Lenore felt Loki wrap his arms around her as he rested his chin on her shoulders. The weight of his presence behind her brought her back to reality and she sought to control her emotions. “These poor people,” she whispered.
“Want me to take you home?” Loki asked gently.
“No.” Lenore shook her head. “I want to stay a while.” Perhaps she would be able to tell this story to Willow one day.
Lenore listened to the humans prepare for departure; the symphony of fond farewells, delight, and worry. But then something almost inaudible echoed into her sensitive ears - a scream.
“Where did that come from?” Lenore inquired, her senses on alert.
Loki closed his eyes and breathed in deeply as he concentrated on the noise. “From within the ship, only one floor below deck.”
Lenore zeroed in on the sound and heard the scream turn to struggling gasps…and the distinct sound of something growling. “Loki, someone’s being attacked. We should help,” she stated urgently.
He hesitated, biting his lip. “Lenore, we can’t change the-”
“-the future, yes I know. But if that was the case then I never should have saved any of the lives I should have. Come now, it’s just one person,” Lenore pleaded, her eyes never wavering from hers.
Loki sighed. “Fine.” He snapped his fingers and they were suddenly on board below deck, alarming an older woman and her teenage son.
“My stars!” the woman shrieked.
“Howdy!” Loki grinned amicably with a tip of his black hat. Then he steered Lenore down the hall and towards the sounds of the person under attack.
“Here.” Lenore glanced down the hall, seeing no one was close by, and whispered an incantation to open the door. It swung open, revealing a vampire sucking into a middle-aged man while a young blond-haired woman looked on, disheveled and dazed from her slumped position against the wall.
“Hey!” Lenore shouted. “Back off!” The creature turned to her and Lenore gasped at the sight, for there in front of her was her old ally Déshèng who had abandoned her after Bilquis killed his progeny Alka. In fact, it was Déshèng who had ordered her to leave the clan after she failed to kill him.
Déshèng blinked, a rather comical look on the five foot three vampire’s bloodied face with his glistening fangs. “Lenore. What are you doing here?” he asked scathingly.
“You know him?” Loki asked in shock.
“Déshèng was a council member of my clan…before he ordered me away,” Lenore explained, her body going rigid at the memory.
Throwing the man onto the bed; the man breathing his last breaths after Déshèng’s attack, the vampire sneered at her. “Ordered you away because you failed us, Lenore. Alka, the others…all dead because of you, when it should have been you.”
Lenore let out an angry grunting noise at his words. “I admitted back then that I erred and explained how I had been held captive by those working for Bilquis. But this is how you honor Alka’s memory? By feeding on humans again?”
“These humans are hunters!” Déshèng spat. “They have been chasing me for six months and today I will have it no more. They deserve death - first the man and then his daughter.”
The blond girl, no more than sixteen years old, was glaring at Déshèng and gritting her teeth.
“You cannot harm her. That is the code,” Lenore snapped.
Déshèng moved like lightning and struck her cheek. “YOUR code, Lenore! Your code! It is unnatural, for us to live like this. Your entrance into our lives all those years ago was a curse!”
Loki growled and threw Déshèng against the back wall, the plaster cracking at the impact. “Touch her again and it’s your head, vampire.” Pure power trickled out of Loki, filling the room until it’s pressure was a heavy touch against her skin.
The scent of blood, dying blood, and power and anger were making Lenore feel light-headed - and there was something familiar about the scent of this blood, but she could not identify what. “I only sought to make things better for us all!” she half-shouted, half-pleaded. Lenore would do anything to get Déshèng to stop staring at her with that undiluted hatred in his eyes. They may have quarreled often over the right course of action in their council meetings but Déshèng had always been a friendly ally to her.
“You were a fool,” Déshèng countered.
“Then you were the fool that followed her!” Loki hissed, his voice like snakes snapping to bite at the Chinese vampire.
“Loki, I can handle this,” Lenore whispered, her voice shaky but sure.
Loki glanced at her and she could see that he understood, even if he didn’t like it.
“Leave now, Déshèng. Leave without hurting these humans further and we can avoid each other for all of eternity, if that is what you wish,” Lenore offered, her voice falling like raindrops into the river, becoming more powerful with each word spoken.
Déshèng laughed cruelly and shook his head. “I will leave…after the chit gets it.” He leapt for the girl but Lenore intercepted him and kicked him backwards.
“And for that, you will die Lenore,” Déshèng growled, clearly looking for any reason to battle her.
“Déshèng, please,” Lenore begged, unwilling to engage in bloodshed after so many years of refrain. But then Déshèng leapt at her and she knew there was no choice. Lenore pivoted away gracefully, a fairly easy task in the large first-class quarters, and gestured for Loki to move back - if Déshèng had to die than Lenore would do it herself; she could not rely on her lover for everything.
Her former ally roared towards her, his arms slashing down in precise kung-fu moves - which was ironic because Déshèng had been one of the people who had instructed Lenore in kung-fu. She pushed backwards on the balls of her feet, her hand catching her before she hit the ground, and swept her legs under Déshèng’s feet. Jumping up, Lenore looked for the closest weapon.
“Here!” the girl shouted, her voice stronger than Lenore would have thought at this moment. It just went to show her how much stronger hunters were than regular humans - no matter what they faced, they faced it with a level head. A jeweled dagger sailed through the air and Lenore caught it before dancing backwards to avoid Déshèng’s own knife.
“Don’t make me do this,” Lenore asked once more in a quavering voice.
Déshèng let out a harsh laugh. “What are you afraid of? Won’t you go to your god when you die?” he asked mockingly.
“He’s your god, too,” Lenore retorted as she parried a slash towards her midsection. But even as the words left her lips, she knew them to be a lie. Anya had explained to Lenore and Fergus years ago about Purgatory and Lenore knew she would never get to heaven - nor would any other of her brethren.
That sidetracked thought allowed Déshèng to slash across her back and she tried to twist away from him, bringing with it fresh pain and a spray of blood from the deep cut. She was fortunate he missed her spine.
Lenore leapt onto the nearby wall and pushed off, flipping over Déshèng and landing at his back. Without another wasted moment, Lenore cut into Déshèng’s neck, severing his head completely.
Shaky hands dropped the dagger and Lenore let out a brief sob at the grotesque image surrounding her. This was not what she had wanted, ever. She collapsed onto the ground and prayed for forgiveness, and begged god to help her other former clan members; she prayed ardently that Eli and Kitra and the others had not turned to dark ways.
“Lenore?”
She waved away Loki’s words. Lenore couldn’t deal with him now. Although she loved him, Loki was an outsider in all of this. He did not understand why it was evil to kill humans nor why she would feel guilty that one of her clan members would stray. After all, he, Odin, and the children regularly engaged in vicious acts.
Lenore wasn’t sure how long she had sat there praying, with only Loki’s silence, the girl’s breathing, and the dying man’s jolted breaths, as the only sounds; but suddenly a vision passed through her mind’s eye. Visions had been common ever since she was a human and since she turned vampire she could see the moment when each of her descendents died and glimpsed a bit of their life. It was the only way she could keep track of her brethren and while she did not write these family trees onto paper (for security reasons) she had a perfect mental image.
The man she saw now was named Ryan Campbell, a well-muscled man with a graying mustache and silver hair that he shorn just above his ears. He was a descendent of Dawn’s, her youngest child that had almost died as a babe (had it not been for Loki’s interference). Ryan’s wife had died in a vampire attack years ago and now he traveled the world with his only daughter, Anne, and they both hunted vampire together; which was a tradition he had grown up with. But his life ended today at the hands of a vampire…
Lenore let out a choking sob and her eyes immediately sought out the humans in the room - well, the one human and her dead father.
Lenore’s descendents.
She swallowed heavily, now realizing why Ryan Campbell’s blood had smelled so familiar - it was the blood of her kin.
The girl, Anne, was sitting on the bed, holding her father’s hands and crying quietly. Lenore looked upon her with her second sight and saw a brilliant red and blue pulsing aura shining around the girl’s head. Anne possessed none of her families’ magical traits but she was a hunter, make no mistake about it. But there was something peaceful about the girl and Lenore reckoned that she would make and excellent doctor or nurse someday (until the women’s revolution started the girl was more likely to become a nurse, she supposed).
“I’m sorry for your father’s death,” Lenore spoke softly, the sincerity ringing out as she looked upon her descendant’s corpse; not since Drusilla was killed in front of her had Lenore witnessed such a terrible occurrence in front of her eyes.
The girl looked up, her blue eyes shining with wet tears. “Thank you for killing that beast.” An angry noise passed her lips. “I hate vampires.”
Lenore sighed softly, knowing that it was better for her daughter’s daughter to hate her kind rather than risk her to soften her stance and be open to vulnerabilities. “Well you’re safe now.”
But then as the words passed through Lenore’s lips a painful sensation circled in her chest. She looked up at Loki, seeing his expression taut and stern. “Are you…are you going to America?” Lenore asked the girl, this Anne girl that was of her blood.
“Yes. We have cousins there,” Anne nodded.
“Perhaps you should take the next ship. This one is bad luck,” Lenore offered, trying her hardest to sound casual.
“Lenore!” Loki barked, clearly angry that she was attempting to change Fate.
Anne looked from Lenore to Loki, and back again. “I cannot miss my meeting. My family is expecting me. Why would you say I should leave?” Anne asked, puzzled.
“I-”
“Lenore, we should go. Now.”
She shook away Loki’s sudden grasp on her arm.
“I just, well, with your father’s death…Perhaps this is not an idea time to travel,” Lenore stated weakly.
But Anne was stubborn - ah, what a trait to inherit. She and her father looked nothing like Dawn, nor Lenore, but inheritable characteristics included more than just physical appearances.
“No, I won’t let this vampire stop me. I have no family in England, anyway.” Anne looked down sadly at her father. “Not anymore.”
“But Anne-” Lenore wanted to beg, wanted to plead with her daughter’s daughter to stay here and take a different ship. After all, Lenore owned a small fortune in her Wolfram and Hart accounts; she could take care of Anne until the next ship departed.
Anne looked at her sharply. “How do you know my name?” she asked in a calculated and cold voice.
Lenore recoiled, angry at her misstep. “I…one of the crewmen, he told me.”
“And how did you know I was here? Or that we were in trouble?” Anne stood up, her gaze hardened. “Are you Hunters? Or…are you something we hunt?”
If Lenore had to breathe to live, she would die soon because her lungs were on pause and she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. The accusations in Anne’s eyes reminded her of Elspeth’s, when her second cousin was on her death bed.
Oh, how the more things change, the more they stay the same…
“That’s it, we’re going,” Loki stated in a determined voice as he grasped her upper arms and teleported them back home in the Norwegian mountains.
Over the next four days Lenore was frantic, weaving a path outside in the woods as she walked back and forth in fear and anger and suffering. It did not help that Loki was angry at her for failing to adhere to her promise not to attempt to change the timelines. But Lenore could not help it! She could not let someone she loved die! Not again!
In the back of her mind she wondered just how she would be able to refrain from interfering in roughly ninety years when she met Willow.
There was one ray of moonlight to brighten her mood - April 14th came and went, with no visions of Anne’s death. Her descendent survived the sinking of the Titanic, and for that Lenore was most thankful for God’s mercy.
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A/N
Thank you for reading, Dearest Readers!