Fic: "Born to Fly", Ethan/Tara, PG-13
Born To Fly- Part 1/2
By: phendog
Pairing: Ethan/Tara
Rated: PG-13 or equivalent fanrating (contains sexual situations)
Special thanks to: My very lovely and exceptionally talented (particularly in all things grammatical) beta elizabuffy. Love you, babe! And thanks for even liking it ;^)
A/N: This should be assumed to take place in season 4, prior to Hush, wherein Tara is a freshmen at Sunnydale University, but has not yet befriended Willow.
Disclaimer: The characters belong to the almighty Joss and all his minions. The MPAA did not send an official down to actually look over my fic, so my rating on this thing should no way be assumed to be officially endorsed by them. *rolls eyes*
Written as part of the Ethan Rayne Ficathon for hermionesviolin. The request was for: Ethan/Tara, prior to Tara’s appearance on the show, any rating, any relationship, without non-con Hope this suffices!
Tara heard the tinkling of the bell announcing a new customer in the magic shop and stiffened instantly, heart racing as she snuck a look at the man who had just entered. Tall, thin, middle aged, wearing black jeans and a dark red silk shirt open just enough to reveal a tuft of hair on his chest, making him look like he was intentionally trying for roguish. Relief surged through her as she realized it was no one she recognized.
Then she remembered where she was and had to let out a soft accusatory laugh at herself. This was Sunnydale. There was no family here-no brother to discover she had been “playing with the occult” or father to beat some sense into her over the issue. To think that she’d finally gotten what she’d waited for all these years, the freedom that college represented, and now she was still trapped by the same fears. Quite frankly, it was frustrating.
Determined not to think on it further, Tara squared her shoulders and consulted her list again, trying to find more of the ingredients in what seemed to be a bit of a scavenger hunt around the store. Spells…magic. She was free now to try anything she wanted from the pages of the book she kept carefully wrapped in linen under her bed. The book had been her mother’s and had been one of the many her mother had tried to teach her from before her death. Tara’s father had no idea she had kept it-if he had, he’d have taken it away with all of the others and burned it with them. Tara still remembered the smoke. It was white; all of her mother’s magic had been white.
She was lost in thought, hand poised over a bin of dove feathers, when she felt an inexplicable shiver. She almost whirled around before once again telling herself she was being silly. Seconds later, it didn’t seem silly at all when she heard the voice whisper mere inches from her ear.
“Who has clipped your wings, little dove? Who caged you?” came the seductive tones, distinctly British and male. The way the words were said was lyrical, almost theatrical, and Tara could feel the hairs of her neck stand on end and her heart beat faster. The idea of turning around to look didn’t even cross her mind, and she didn’t immediately question the fact that she seemed to be frozen in place. Instead, she stood silent, taking in air slowly, matching her inhalations to the hot breath she felt on her neck.
Seconds began to feel like a small eternity before she suddenly felt something playing at the edge of her mind. The feeling was most akin to an impression of color. Dark blue, almost black, shifting hue like iridescent folds of satin. Mentally she reached for it, wanting to examine it, but it danced away, skimming, but refusing to come closer.
In an instant, everything seemed to come back into place and she broke the connection, whirling around and crashing into the shelf behind her as she stepped back. “Who are you?” she demanded, fright making her brave and keeping the waver from her voice. She recognized him as the man who had just walked in. Based on his performance moments ago, he was a magic user, and a strong one, but his magic was nothing like she’d felt before.
The man raised his hands in mock innocence and appeared to be attempting a disarming smile, though it came off as slightly leering. “I apologize. That was quite rude of me not to introduce myself, wasn’t it?” he asked rhetorically. “I am but a small worshipper of Chaos.” He paused, bowing, and again the word ‘theatric’ came to mind. “You, however, may call me Ethan.”
He seemed to be waiting for something, but Tara warily refused to give him a response without prompting. When the silence grew long enough, Ethan broke it. “And by what name may I call you, love?”
Tara glanced away, using the veil of her hair to shield herself from his penetrating eyes. Although something instinctual told her the man meant no immediate harm, it also told her that he was not entirely trustworthy, either. “Tara,” she responded at last, omitting her last name in a refusal to give him more than he had given her. “My…my name is Tara. Now, please l-leave me alone.” Tara forced herself to look back at the dove feathers, reaching into the bin, and selecting her choices with studied care.
Ignoring the last request entirely, as if she’d never spoken it, Ethan turned, plucking a jar of hen’s teeth off the shelf, but moving no further away. “Tara. Someone has bound your magic,” he pointed out casually. “Might I ask why?”
Tara snapped her head up in shock.
“Did you abuse your powers, sweet dove? That seems unlikely, I think. Your magic is of nature,” Ethan lectured aloud. “Thus, you must have your Goddess’ permission to use it or you would not have it at all. No, that cannot be it. Perhaps you wished it?” Ethan seemed to think a minute before shaking his head. “No. You are hungry for the power.”
Ethan caught her eye before he said the next. “The only remaining explanation is that someone has forced this on you.”
Bound. Tara was not entirely sure what he meant by that, but wondered if it could be true. Her mother had always said what power she had. She could feel it even, but ever since her mother’s death, all but the tiniest spells had been exhausting and difficult. Had her father…her brothers? She briefly questioned the horrible idea of them betraying her in such a way, but grimly found her answer. If they had known such a thing was possible, they’d surely have paid someone to do it.
Noting her reaction, Ethan showed his own surprise. “You didn’t know, did you? Someone broke your wing, tying you to the earth when you were meant to fly. You’ve been crawling with worms, but you didn’t know why?”
Tara felt the sharp stab at her palm and glanced down, realizing she had gripped the feathers too tightly and snapped one of the shafts in her grip. She looked back up to meet his gaze where he was looking down at her, waiting. Tara took a deep breath. “Years ago,” she admitted. “You-you’re right. I didn’t know. I-if it’s true, I didn’t know it until just now, but it must have been years ago.”
There was a flash of anger in his eyes as he took her meaning. “You were a child.”
It was a statement of fact, and she nodded. “After…” she hesitated, but decided that she was deep enough now that there was no harm in admitting more to this virtual stranger. “After my mother died,” she told him softly.
“I could unbind you; it would not be so difficult, you know…” He drew out the final word, making it clear that he was offering to do so.
Tara swallowed hard but didn’t look away. The man would require a price, she was sure, but she also felt the call of something deep inside her and knew that whatever it was he required of her, she would most likely give it.
“May I?” he asked. “Not unbind you just yet,” he said, and Tara realized the look that must have crossed her face at his words. “But this…” he continued as he reached toward her.
She wasn’t entirely sure of his intent, but found herself nodding anyway as he touched his fingers lightly against her forehead, brushing away an errant strand of hair before muttering a single word. “Meminisse.”
It felt like lightening as the memory overwhelmed her and she reached out, grabbing Ethan’s arm for support. Tara found she recalled it all now. She remembered being much younger and being held down by the old witch, screaming as the herbs were pressed against her bared chest over her heart and the incantation said. Her father had been in the next room, refusing to even bare witness, so adverse was he to the ‘taint’ of magic.
Oblivious to the odd looks the shopkeeper and a few of the other patrons were throwing at them, Ethan waited until she had recovered a bit before softly asking, “Would you like me to undo that? Would you like to fly again?”
“Wh-what is the price?” she asked, closing her eyes and preparing for anything.
“Only that you do me a favor in return sometime,” Ethan replied, trapping her and making his proposition dangerously open-ended.
Tara met his gaze firmly. “Yes,” she whispered.
“Then we’ll have to go elsewhere for this. Do you trust me?”
Tara put down her hand-basket, sensing there wouldn’t be an opportunity to pay for the items in it. “Never,” she replied, taking his offered hand, while the shopkeeper looked on with a now definite frown of disapproval.
Ethan smiled broadly at that. “Sensible girl. Now close your eyes.”
Seconds later, his chant begin to fade and she felt a sudden lurch as reality itself seemed to tear slightly before shifting back into place. When she opened her eyes, it was to a rather dingy-looking hotel room. Ethan’s rather garish taste in clothing became evident as she looked at various examples of it scattered around the room. The bed was the only halfway tidy aspect of the room, and Tara rather had the impression that if the hotel maid hadn’t had the opportunity earlier in the day to straighten up at least that part, the bed would be just as badly off as the rest.
Ethan blushed slightly and apologized, explaining he hadn’t exactly planned on company. Betraying his own slight discomfort with the situation, he motioned for her to sit on the bed, and she did…though she managed to place as much space between herself and Ethan as she could politely manage.
“You do know what is required.” The tone in which Ethan said it made it clear he was issuing a statement rather than asking a question.
Tara blushed and nodded, quite sure she knew too well. If something was binding her, then this was to be a release, and magical releases generally required a matching physical response both from the subject of the spell and the one performing it. “There’s something that…that you should…” Tara trailed off, half afraid to finish, not sure of his reaction.
The look on his face was almost comical as Ethan cocked an eyebrow. “Yes?”
“I’m…” Tara licked her lips nervously as she debated between wiggling further away from him or leaning in closer. “I’m normally k-kinda gay,” she managed.
Ethan laughed again, and this time it was genuine, the laugh almost dissolving into giggles before he gathered enough breath to say, “That’s bloody perfect, then.” At her concerned expression, he leaned forward and explained with a grin, “So am I. You might call your revelation a bit of a relief, actually.”
“Um…huh?” she asked, confused how this was a relief at all.
“I was hoping you wouldn’t be offended if we didn’t…copulate in the traditional fashion.” Ethan held up his hand and wiggled his fingers, making his meaning obvious. “Surely you won’t object?”
Tara pulled her legs up on the bed and hugged her knees, the whole thing suddenly beginning to seem obscene.
His expression softened, and he tentatively moved to slide along the cheap bedspread and closer to her. Tara felt the hand on her back, but forced herself not to flinch, relieved when she discovered it was merely physical contact and contained none of his magic.
Slowly, Ethan rubbed small circles into her back and began to talk. “I honestly didn’t intend any such thing when I walked into the shop, I’ll have you know. I was actually looking for a bit of toadsroot to…” Ethan seemed to think better of revealing whatever it was he had been about to say. “Well, that’s not important.”
Tara knew toadsroot was a common ingredient in transformation spells, and thought that if he’d rather she didn’t know, she’d very likely be happier without the knowledge.
“But then I saw you,” Ethan continued, “and I saw what anyone with the capacity to do so would see. I’m guessing others have, but were just too bloody polite to say. You are a very powerful girl, Tara, and it’s very pure. You were born with it, a creature of beauty, and should have been able to use it all your life.
“You can feel my power, can’t you?” Tara nodded. “Mine is from years of practice and prayer to the darkness. Janus, Chaos. I’ve dedicated my life to them, and-more often than not--they’ve treated me well. But you…your power is that of the Goddess. Ask and it should be yours to use in any way the Goddess does not despise.”
“Yes,” Tara agreed, remembering her mother’s lessons, and relaxing enough to uncurl and let her feet again touch the floor. “Always with the blessings of the Goddess.”
He laughed. “Thank goodness your Goddess and I never met. I don’t think she’d like me much,” he admitted. “Chaos tends to be more of a ‘take whatever the bloody hell you want and ante up later’ game.” Ethan waved a hand dismissively. “My curse is not the topic of discussion, however; yours is.
“The fact that you are bound is also very apparent. The air around you stinks of its grotty filth. That is why I called you the caged bird, tethers tight. You’ve forgotten how to sing, though you still know how to try.”
Tara watched as, with an easy gesture of his free hand, Ethan sent a wisp of bright blue light into the air and guided its dance. Concentrating, she attempted to do the same, but failed to produce more than a faint glow, which hovered weakly. Ethan allowed his light to swallow hers and she let it go, relieved at not having to continue the effort.
“Better to deprive you of your magic entirely than to let you have all that power and no way to let it out,” he said, and she could hear the genuine anger in his voice. Anger for her. “It’s a desecration, rape, violation, whatever word you prefer. I’ve seen it done before, you know. You evoke old memories. Except…except that case was different.” Ethan’s voice got lower, rougher.
“Ripper and I were the best of mates, but he got scared, and he let them bind him. I’ve seen him since, and he’s broken. Weak. Able to do mere party tricks compared to the wonders I’ve seen him perform. I’ll never…” he paused his heated rant, before sighing heavily. “I’ll never forgive him for submitting to that.”
The pieces began to fall into place as Tara listened, suddenly understanding more of his motivation to see her whole. Carefully, she reached behind her and took the hand at her back over her head until she held in her lap. “Help me, then.”
Ethan nodded and raised the hand that held his to his lips. “Of course, little dove.”
Taking his stillness for what it was, Tara knew he was leaving it up to her to make the first move. Briefly, she considered merely lowering her jeans and underwear low enough to give him access, but again felt a hint of the obscene. Instead, she stood up and reached back under her shirt to unclip her bra. Then she brought it and her shirt over her head while Ethan watched her intently. Tara wasn’t especially elegant at kicking off her shoes and socks or shimmying out of her jeans, but eventually, she managed it, standing before him naked. For an instant, she thought she should be ashamed of showing her nudity to a man, but somehow the admission of his own sexual orientation combined with their purpose allowed her to square her shoulders and walk proudly back to the bed, looking at Ethan expectantly.
Tara wondered if it was her own boldness that made him uncertain. Ethan fumbled with a button on his shirt and asked, “Should I?”
Tara shook her head, again taking in the way the red of the shirt complimented him, and knowing he’d be vain enough to enjoy hearing her praise him. “No. You’re beautiful just like that. Only…only the jeans and whatever else you need to,” she added as an after thought, recalling his own need for release to complete the spell.
Complying, Ethan unbuttoned his jeans, revealing he wore nothing underneath as he freed himself and shoved them to the floor. Tara looked and stared, realizing again exactly what she was agreeing to and with whom.
“Curious?” Ethan asked, indicating the object of her attention, and when Tara looked up, she saw the cocked eyebrow.
She didn’t say a word until the silence grew awkward. “Can I…touch?” she asked before she even realized the words were out of her mouth. The minute she said them, she wished she could somehow take them back, but Ethan just took her hand and guided it to his cock.
Tara recalled her textbooks and suddenly realized all of those had depicted circumcised men, different from what she saw now. Half afraid of doing something she shouldn’t, she ran one light finger down his shaft before allowing herself to reach down and encircle him with her fingers. Bolder, she tried sliding the foreskin back, surprising herself when she heard him whimper. Then she realized the flaccid cock in her hand was starting to become slightly less flaccid, and quickly withdrew her hand. The look in Ethan’s eyes was slightly disappointed, but he didn’t say a word.
“Have you…” she hesitated. “Do you, um, know what to do?” she asked, waving a hand to indicate herself.
Ethan nodded, eyes twinkling with slight mirth. “You won’t be my first female, no. I may have preferences, but when there are six or seven people in the room, you learn not to complain if some of them have different bits and bobs.”
“Alright,” Tara acquiesced, not questioning him further. Catlike, she spread herself out on the bed, offering herself to him, understanding the spell would be entirely under his control.
Ethan cupped a hand over her pussy, letting his fingers rest at the lips to her entrance as he warmed her. Tara anticipated feeling him further. His hands were bigger than her previous lovers’ had been, though his fingers were slender for a man’s. Delicate. She watched as Ethan let his eyes wander up to meet hers. “Are you nervous?” he asked her.
Tara’s eyes widened in surprise as she thought about the question and reached her answer. Even her stutter seemed to be lacking around him, she realized, supporting her conclusion. “No. I think I probably should be, but I’m not.”
In the next breath, one of the fingers at her entrance plunged into her wetness and hooked, anchoring itself inside of her. Surprised at the intrusion, Tara clenched and breathed hard, but Ethan didn’t give her enough time to recover fully, working her clit with his thumb while she accustomed herself to the finger inside. When she finally relaxed, he worked a second finger beside the first.
“Enjoy it,” he whispered, and she realized she was grateful for permission to do so. Tara closed her eyes and did her best to comply, as he began to chant. She was tempted to listen to the words, but knew that she’d be unable to stop him from doing anything amiss. Instead, she let the words fade into the background concentrating only on the sensation of his hands and of the magic washing over her and warming her, seeping deep inside. Any worries she had about his ability to pleasure her were quickly laid to rest. At first she wondered about his instinctive knack for seeming to find just the right movements, until she realized his magic was virtually permeating her. He had to be feeling every sensation right along with her, even as she had the vague impression of him stroking himself toward completion with his other hand.
The words became deeper, more rhythmic, and Tara felt the pure white light of her own magic bubbling exuberantly upward to meet the dark blue-black river that rippled over her, building in pressure with her own need for climax. When it finally came, it was if she could feel the invisible bonds physically breaking as her magic exploded outward, filling her and consuming her. Mixed in with her own cries of ecstasy, she heard Ethan’s.
Suddenly, something seemed to be going wrong. The midnight blue swam at her again, attacking her. It pulled at her light, still fragile and not fully secure, and, in a panic, she realized Ethan’s price for his service. He was trying to secure her magic for his own.
Tara tried to concentrate, overwhelmed by the strength of power she hadn’t been able to feel in a long time. Vaguely, she remembered how to command it, and, asking for aide from the goddess, pushed Ethan forcibly away.
He yelled his frustration, but suddenly seemed to just give up, and Tara felt her magic snap back at her like a rubber band. When it jumped back, she was overwhelmed with a series of images and impressions, though they were too jumbled to instantly process.
Gasping, Tara shoved herself upright on the bed and pushed herself out of his reach.
“How dare you!” she yelled.
Ethan looked at her wildly. There was concern and confusion in his eyes. “I didn’t mean…”
“Better to deprive me of it entirely than to let me have all of it with no way to let it out,” she spat out, throwing his own words back at him.
He looked at her shocked. “Never all of it. I wouldn’t. You’d still have had access to far more than you’d had when you were bound.”
Tara continued to look at him sullenly.
Ethan glared back, but gave in first, slumping his shoulders in defeat and dropping his gaze. “You’re right,” he admitted softly. “I might not be good, but I’m not evil either. I shouldn’t have done that. Do you know that’s what Ripper used to accuse me of? Going too far?”
Again, Tara found herself assuming Ripper must have been more to Ethan than a mere friend. “I agree with him. That…that was…”
“You said you didn’t trust me.”
Tara sighed, losing her anger. She hadn’t trusted him, and, she realized, had actually expected him to do something exactly like what he had done, even if she hadn’t expected it to happen in exactly that way when she was so vulnerable. In fact, she was lucky he’d given up when he had or he very well might have taken a large part of her magic from her. He was what he was, after all, and she could still feel the enormous gift he’d given her wakening inside. “I would have shared, had you asked and told me that was what you wanted,” she admitted. “Can I at least trust you not to try it again?”
“Couldn’t if I wanted to,” he admitted. “It’s already starting to settle into you, no longer free for the taking.”
“I guess that’ll have to do then.” Tara shoved herself up, suddenly self-conscious of her nudity. She got up and threw on her shirt, then walked to the bathroom for a towel to clean herself. As an afterthought, she grabbed one for Ethan too, thinking his mess was likely greater than hers.
“I only wanted a bit,” Ethan confessed, as he caught the towel midair. “It would be easy enough to mix natural magic with Chaos, transferring ownership from your Goddess in an offering to Janus. I really don’t think you realize your own strength. You’ll have to be careful with that. Find a partner and practice with it a bit to build it up.”
Ethan cocked his head, considering his own words, and then his face was masked in a look of shock. “Interesting. I saw you, you know. When you pulled back. It’s just now beginning to become clear. A bit of your future perhaps? Certainly not your past.”
Tara looked at him, shaken, but curious as well. Who knew, she thought? Anything was possible after all. Her mother had taught her that.
“There’s something else as well. I think…I think I might have captured a bit of you after all, dove. Flecks of white. I don’t suppose?”
Tara checked herself mentally. There they were. Bits of blue, the tiniest fragments of Chaos. She told him as much.
“I apologize for that. We’ll hope there’s no side effects for either of us, eh? Though you still do owe me a favor.”
Tara stiffened, and Ethan rolled his eyes at her reaction. “Don’t worry. I couldn’t force you into something you don’t want to do. Not anymore, at least. Still, if you find something…”
She thought about it, and finally nodded. He might have proven to be a bit of a bastard, but she did owe him. The whole situation was odd, and it was getting confusing. It was far easier just to agree, really. It was also easier to change the subject. “So…my future?”
Ethan thought some more and grimaced. “You’ll find your practice partner soon, I’m guessing. A good balance for you. Good magic, strong magic, but tainted with darkness. Beware of that.”
A shadow flickered across his eyes, but he didn’t expand and tell her any more about the theoretical future he claimed to have glimpsed. Tara allowed herself to instead become preoccupied with something in his tone that hinted at a more personal reason to his warning. “Why beware? The darkness…is it dangerous?”
“Perhaps, but it’s not that. Differing degrees of darkness can cock-up a relationship. You’ve probably guessed what Ripper was to me, since I’ve been referring to him all night. You could say he was the one giant fuck-up in my life. As much as he tainted it, his magic wasn’t meant to be dark. Mine always was always as it is now. Ripper never could accept what I was, and I could never quite measure up.”
“Ethan?” Tara asked shyly, letting her fingers play at tracing the patterns on the tacky hotel bedspread. “Tell me about you and about him. I mean…if you don’t mind.”
Ethan seemed taken aback yet again, but he leaned back on the bed and started to tell her the story as she listened attentively. The story was rather fascinating, and, oddly, Tara found that the more she listened, the more acceptable Ethan became in her own mind. Certainly, her laugh came a little easier, and she found herself less and less on guard against his trying to take further advantage.
By the early hours of morning, they were both yawning and Tara found they’d somehow ended up back to front with Ethan more or less spooning her from behind while he talked, though between the blanket she was huddled in and his state of being fully dressed, it was hardly what she’d call intimate. Still, she admitted, it was nice-if he didn’t suddenly try to stab her in the back.
“May I ask you something?”
“Yes, my little dove,” Ethan said accommodatingly.
Tara giggled slightly. “Actually, I…I was going to ask why you call me a ‘dove.’”
It was obvious he hadn’t anticipated the question. Quietly, he took time to think it over. “It’s the symbol of purity. The Mother Goddess. I saw you handling the feathers in the store and felt your light; it just seemed appropriate, I suppose.”
Tara nodded her head against his arm, surprised to find herself agreeing. If she was a dove, she wondered silently, what would be Ethan’s corresponding daemon? At the back of her mind she felt his magic tickle her from where bits of it still seemed to rest deep inside. Again, she saw the iridescent blue-black and then she knew him instantly. “Raven. If I’m the Dove, then you are the Raven,” she explained.
She felt him as he laughed softly in her hair, catching the sound of delight in his voice. “Raven. The trickster, alternately hero and villain, but always a lover of disorder…and a bit of a thief. I suppose I am. Tara, my dear, in another life I do believe I could love you. My clever white dove.”
Tara snorted softly, suddenly finding herself with the upper hand. She patted his arm and pressed herself back into his heat. “You’re tired and a little bit crazy, I think. Sleep.” Without thinking, she put her magic behind the last of her words and was amazed at the feel of it, truly free for the first time in years. Ethan had no choice but to obey.
Tara, on the other hand, remained awake and let her mind wander, shivering as it returned to what she’d seen earlier, the mental impressions becoming clearer now. Much as Ethan had glimpsed her future, she was beginning to believe she had seen into his, and it disturbed her. His near future was going to be one of pain and entrapment, similar to, yet different from her own binding, though she wasn’t sure what that meant. But after that…there was contentment, followed by a type of joy. Love even. Tara recalled what he’d said about the love of his past. She wasn’t certain it would be the same person who would come back to him and make him whole, but she found herself hoping that it might be. Perhaps that would make the time of darkness worth it, she acknowledged, allowing that thought to buoy her into sleep.
She opened her eyes only a few hours later, but noticed that Ethan continued to sleep soundly. Careful not to wake him, she slid off the bed and gathered her clothes, surprised to find herself completely without shame for what she’d done and without condemnation for Ethan. She felt far more resentment toward those who had bound her and allowed her to be bound.
Hand at the door, Tara prepared to leave before she remembered what she’d seen for Ethan in his future, if that’s truly what it was. Leaning down she touched a finger to his brow and lips and bestowed a small blessing from her Goddess. “If you need your favor, Ethan, call me,” she whispered, before walking out of the hotel room, hoping to find the stop for the bus that would take her back across town to Sunnydale U.
Part 2 can be found here.
By: phendog
Pairing: Ethan/Tara
Rated: PG-13 or equivalent fanrating (contains sexual situations)
Special thanks to: My very lovely and exceptionally talented (particularly in all things grammatical) beta elizabuffy. Love you, babe! And thanks for even liking it ;^)
A/N: This should be assumed to take place in season 4, prior to Hush, wherein Tara is a freshmen at Sunnydale University, but has not yet befriended Willow.
Disclaimer: The characters belong to the almighty Joss and all his minions. The MPAA did not send an official down to actually look over my fic, so my rating on this thing should no way be assumed to be officially endorsed by them. *rolls eyes*
Written as part of the Ethan Rayne Ficathon for hermionesviolin. The request was for: Ethan/Tara, prior to Tara’s appearance on the show, any rating, any relationship, without non-con Hope this suffices!
Tara heard the tinkling of the bell announcing a new customer in the magic shop and stiffened instantly, heart racing as she snuck a look at the man who had just entered. Tall, thin, middle aged, wearing black jeans and a dark red silk shirt open just enough to reveal a tuft of hair on his chest, making him look like he was intentionally trying for roguish. Relief surged through her as she realized it was no one she recognized.
Then she remembered where she was and had to let out a soft accusatory laugh at herself. This was Sunnydale. There was no family here-no brother to discover she had been “playing with the occult” or father to beat some sense into her over the issue. To think that she’d finally gotten what she’d waited for all these years, the freedom that college represented, and now she was still trapped by the same fears. Quite frankly, it was frustrating.
Determined not to think on it further, Tara squared her shoulders and consulted her list again, trying to find more of the ingredients in what seemed to be a bit of a scavenger hunt around the store. Spells…magic. She was free now to try anything she wanted from the pages of the book she kept carefully wrapped in linen under her bed. The book had been her mother’s and had been one of the many her mother had tried to teach her from before her death. Tara’s father had no idea she had kept it-if he had, he’d have taken it away with all of the others and burned it with them. Tara still remembered the smoke. It was white; all of her mother’s magic had been white.
She was lost in thought, hand poised over a bin of dove feathers, when she felt an inexplicable shiver. She almost whirled around before once again telling herself she was being silly. Seconds later, it didn’t seem silly at all when she heard the voice whisper mere inches from her ear.
“Who has clipped your wings, little dove? Who caged you?” came the seductive tones, distinctly British and male. The way the words were said was lyrical, almost theatrical, and Tara could feel the hairs of her neck stand on end and her heart beat faster. The idea of turning around to look didn’t even cross her mind, and she didn’t immediately question the fact that she seemed to be frozen in place. Instead, she stood silent, taking in air slowly, matching her inhalations to the hot breath she felt on her neck.
Seconds began to feel like a small eternity before she suddenly felt something playing at the edge of her mind. The feeling was most akin to an impression of color. Dark blue, almost black, shifting hue like iridescent folds of satin. Mentally she reached for it, wanting to examine it, but it danced away, skimming, but refusing to come closer.
In an instant, everything seemed to come back into place and she broke the connection, whirling around and crashing into the shelf behind her as she stepped back. “Who are you?” she demanded, fright making her brave and keeping the waver from her voice. She recognized him as the man who had just walked in. Based on his performance moments ago, he was a magic user, and a strong one, but his magic was nothing like she’d felt before.
The man raised his hands in mock innocence and appeared to be attempting a disarming smile, though it came off as slightly leering. “I apologize. That was quite rude of me not to introduce myself, wasn’t it?” he asked rhetorically. “I am but a small worshipper of Chaos.” He paused, bowing, and again the word ‘theatric’ came to mind. “You, however, may call me Ethan.”
He seemed to be waiting for something, but Tara warily refused to give him a response without prompting. When the silence grew long enough, Ethan broke it. “And by what name may I call you, love?”
Tara glanced away, using the veil of her hair to shield herself from his penetrating eyes. Although something instinctual told her the man meant no immediate harm, it also told her that he was not entirely trustworthy, either. “Tara,” she responded at last, omitting her last name in a refusal to give him more than he had given her. “My…my name is Tara. Now, please l-leave me alone.” Tara forced herself to look back at the dove feathers, reaching into the bin, and selecting her choices with studied care.
Ignoring the last request entirely, as if she’d never spoken it, Ethan turned, plucking a jar of hen’s teeth off the shelf, but moving no further away. “Tara. Someone has bound your magic,” he pointed out casually. “Might I ask why?”
Tara snapped her head up in shock.
“Did you abuse your powers, sweet dove? That seems unlikely, I think. Your magic is of nature,” Ethan lectured aloud. “Thus, you must have your Goddess’ permission to use it or you would not have it at all. No, that cannot be it. Perhaps you wished it?” Ethan seemed to think a minute before shaking his head. “No. You are hungry for the power.”
Ethan caught her eye before he said the next. “The only remaining explanation is that someone has forced this on you.”
Bound. Tara was not entirely sure what he meant by that, but wondered if it could be true. Her mother had always said what power she had. She could feel it even, but ever since her mother’s death, all but the tiniest spells had been exhausting and difficult. Had her father…her brothers? She briefly questioned the horrible idea of them betraying her in such a way, but grimly found her answer. If they had known such a thing was possible, they’d surely have paid someone to do it.
Noting her reaction, Ethan showed his own surprise. “You didn’t know, did you? Someone broke your wing, tying you to the earth when you were meant to fly. You’ve been crawling with worms, but you didn’t know why?”
Tara felt the sharp stab at her palm and glanced down, realizing she had gripped the feathers too tightly and snapped one of the shafts in her grip. She looked back up to meet his gaze where he was looking down at her, waiting. Tara took a deep breath. “Years ago,” she admitted. “You-you’re right. I didn’t know. I-if it’s true, I didn’t know it until just now, but it must have been years ago.”
There was a flash of anger in his eyes as he took her meaning. “You were a child.”
It was a statement of fact, and she nodded. “After…” she hesitated, but decided that she was deep enough now that there was no harm in admitting more to this virtual stranger. “After my mother died,” she told him softly.
“I could unbind you; it would not be so difficult, you know…” He drew out the final word, making it clear that he was offering to do so.
Tara swallowed hard but didn’t look away. The man would require a price, she was sure, but she also felt the call of something deep inside her and knew that whatever it was he required of her, she would most likely give it.
“May I?” he asked. “Not unbind you just yet,” he said, and Tara realized the look that must have crossed her face at his words. “But this…” he continued as he reached toward her.
She wasn’t entirely sure of his intent, but found herself nodding anyway as he touched his fingers lightly against her forehead, brushing away an errant strand of hair before muttering a single word. “Meminisse.”
It felt like lightening as the memory overwhelmed her and she reached out, grabbing Ethan’s arm for support. Tara found she recalled it all now. She remembered being much younger and being held down by the old witch, screaming as the herbs were pressed against her bared chest over her heart and the incantation said. Her father had been in the next room, refusing to even bare witness, so adverse was he to the ‘taint’ of magic.
Oblivious to the odd looks the shopkeeper and a few of the other patrons were throwing at them, Ethan waited until she had recovered a bit before softly asking, “Would you like me to undo that? Would you like to fly again?”
“Wh-what is the price?” she asked, closing her eyes and preparing for anything.
“Only that you do me a favor in return sometime,” Ethan replied, trapping her and making his proposition dangerously open-ended.
Tara met his gaze firmly. “Yes,” she whispered.
“Then we’ll have to go elsewhere for this. Do you trust me?”
Tara put down her hand-basket, sensing there wouldn’t be an opportunity to pay for the items in it. “Never,” she replied, taking his offered hand, while the shopkeeper looked on with a now definite frown of disapproval.
Ethan smiled broadly at that. “Sensible girl. Now close your eyes.”
Seconds later, his chant begin to fade and she felt a sudden lurch as reality itself seemed to tear slightly before shifting back into place. When she opened her eyes, it was to a rather dingy-looking hotel room. Ethan’s rather garish taste in clothing became evident as she looked at various examples of it scattered around the room. The bed was the only halfway tidy aspect of the room, and Tara rather had the impression that if the hotel maid hadn’t had the opportunity earlier in the day to straighten up at least that part, the bed would be just as badly off as the rest.
Ethan blushed slightly and apologized, explaining he hadn’t exactly planned on company. Betraying his own slight discomfort with the situation, he motioned for her to sit on the bed, and she did…though she managed to place as much space between herself and Ethan as she could politely manage.
“You do know what is required.” The tone in which Ethan said it made it clear he was issuing a statement rather than asking a question.
Tara blushed and nodded, quite sure she knew too well. If something was binding her, then this was to be a release, and magical releases generally required a matching physical response both from the subject of the spell and the one performing it. “There’s something that…that you should…” Tara trailed off, half afraid to finish, not sure of his reaction.
The look on his face was almost comical as Ethan cocked an eyebrow. “Yes?”
“I’m…” Tara licked her lips nervously as she debated between wiggling further away from him or leaning in closer. “I’m normally k-kinda gay,” she managed.
Ethan laughed again, and this time it was genuine, the laugh almost dissolving into giggles before he gathered enough breath to say, “That’s bloody perfect, then.” At her concerned expression, he leaned forward and explained with a grin, “So am I. You might call your revelation a bit of a relief, actually.”
“Um…huh?” she asked, confused how this was a relief at all.
“I was hoping you wouldn’t be offended if we didn’t…copulate in the traditional fashion.” Ethan held up his hand and wiggled his fingers, making his meaning obvious. “Surely you won’t object?”
Tara pulled her legs up on the bed and hugged her knees, the whole thing suddenly beginning to seem obscene.
His expression softened, and he tentatively moved to slide along the cheap bedspread and closer to her. Tara felt the hand on her back, but forced herself not to flinch, relieved when she discovered it was merely physical contact and contained none of his magic.
Slowly, Ethan rubbed small circles into her back and began to talk. “I honestly didn’t intend any such thing when I walked into the shop, I’ll have you know. I was actually looking for a bit of toadsroot to…” Ethan seemed to think better of revealing whatever it was he had been about to say. “Well, that’s not important.”
Tara knew toadsroot was a common ingredient in transformation spells, and thought that if he’d rather she didn’t know, she’d very likely be happier without the knowledge.
“But then I saw you,” Ethan continued, “and I saw what anyone with the capacity to do so would see. I’m guessing others have, but were just too bloody polite to say. You are a very powerful girl, Tara, and it’s very pure. You were born with it, a creature of beauty, and should have been able to use it all your life.
“You can feel my power, can’t you?” Tara nodded. “Mine is from years of practice and prayer to the darkness. Janus, Chaos. I’ve dedicated my life to them, and-more often than not--they’ve treated me well. But you…your power is that of the Goddess. Ask and it should be yours to use in any way the Goddess does not despise.”
“Yes,” Tara agreed, remembering her mother’s lessons, and relaxing enough to uncurl and let her feet again touch the floor. “Always with the blessings of the Goddess.”
He laughed. “Thank goodness your Goddess and I never met. I don’t think she’d like me much,” he admitted. “Chaos tends to be more of a ‘take whatever the bloody hell you want and ante up later’ game.” Ethan waved a hand dismissively. “My curse is not the topic of discussion, however; yours is.
“The fact that you are bound is also very apparent. The air around you stinks of its grotty filth. That is why I called you the caged bird, tethers tight. You’ve forgotten how to sing, though you still know how to try.”
Tara watched as, with an easy gesture of his free hand, Ethan sent a wisp of bright blue light into the air and guided its dance. Concentrating, she attempted to do the same, but failed to produce more than a faint glow, which hovered weakly. Ethan allowed his light to swallow hers and she let it go, relieved at not having to continue the effort.
“Better to deprive you of your magic entirely than to let you have all that power and no way to let it out,” he said, and she could hear the genuine anger in his voice. Anger for her. “It’s a desecration, rape, violation, whatever word you prefer. I’ve seen it done before, you know. You evoke old memories. Except…except that case was different.” Ethan’s voice got lower, rougher.
“Ripper and I were the best of mates, but he got scared, and he let them bind him. I’ve seen him since, and he’s broken. Weak. Able to do mere party tricks compared to the wonders I’ve seen him perform. I’ll never…” he paused his heated rant, before sighing heavily. “I’ll never forgive him for submitting to that.”
The pieces began to fall into place as Tara listened, suddenly understanding more of his motivation to see her whole. Carefully, she reached behind her and took the hand at her back over her head until she held in her lap. “Help me, then.”
Ethan nodded and raised the hand that held his to his lips. “Of course, little dove.”
Taking his stillness for what it was, Tara knew he was leaving it up to her to make the first move. Briefly, she considered merely lowering her jeans and underwear low enough to give him access, but again felt a hint of the obscene. Instead, she stood up and reached back under her shirt to unclip her bra. Then she brought it and her shirt over her head while Ethan watched her intently. Tara wasn’t especially elegant at kicking off her shoes and socks or shimmying out of her jeans, but eventually, she managed it, standing before him naked. For an instant, she thought she should be ashamed of showing her nudity to a man, but somehow the admission of his own sexual orientation combined with their purpose allowed her to square her shoulders and walk proudly back to the bed, looking at Ethan expectantly.
Tara wondered if it was her own boldness that made him uncertain. Ethan fumbled with a button on his shirt and asked, “Should I?”
Tara shook her head, again taking in the way the red of the shirt complimented him, and knowing he’d be vain enough to enjoy hearing her praise him. “No. You’re beautiful just like that. Only…only the jeans and whatever else you need to,” she added as an after thought, recalling his own need for release to complete the spell.
Complying, Ethan unbuttoned his jeans, revealing he wore nothing underneath as he freed himself and shoved them to the floor. Tara looked and stared, realizing again exactly what she was agreeing to and with whom.
“Curious?” Ethan asked, indicating the object of her attention, and when Tara looked up, she saw the cocked eyebrow.
She didn’t say a word until the silence grew awkward. “Can I…touch?” she asked before she even realized the words were out of her mouth. The minute she said them, she wished she could somehow take them back, but Ethan just took her hand and guided it to his cock.
Tara recalled her textbooks and suddenly realized all of those had depicted circumcised men, different from what she saw now. Half afraid of doing something she shouldn’t, she ran one light finger down his shaft before allowing herself to reach down and encircle him with her fingers. Bolder, she tried sliding the foreskin back, surprising herself when she heard him whimper. Then she realized the flaccid cock in her hand was starting to become slightly less flaccid, and quickly withdrew her hand. The look in Ethan’s eyes was slightly disappointed, but he didn’t say a word.
“Have you…” she hesitated. “Do you, um, know what to do?” she asked, waving a hand to indicate herself.
Ethan nodded, eyes twinkling with slight mirth. “You won’t be my first female, no. I may have preferences, but when there are six or seven people in the room, you learn not to complain if some of them have different bits and bobs.”
“Alright,” Tara acquiesced, not questioning him further. Catlike, she spread herself out on the bed, offering herself to him, understanding the spell would be entirely under his control.
Ethan cupped a hand over her pussy, letting his fingers rest at the lips to her entrance as he warmed her. Tara anticipated feeling him further. His hands were bigger than her previous lovers’ had been, though his fingers were slender for a man’s. Delicate. She watched as Ethan let his eyes wander up to meet hers. “Are you nervous?” he asked her.
Tara’s eyes widened in surprise as she thought about the question and reached her answer. Even her stutter seemed to be lacking around him, she realized, supporting her conclusion. “No. I think I probably should be, but I’m not.”
In the next breath, one of the fingers at her entrance plunged into her wetness and hooked, anchoring itself inside of her. Surprised at the intrusion, Tara clenched and breathed hard, but Ethan didn’t give her enough time to recover fully, working her clit with his thumb while she accustomed herself to the finger inside. When she finally relaxed, he worked a second finger beside the first.
“Enjoy it,” he whispered, and she realized she was grateful for permission to do so. Tara closed her eyes and did her best to comply, as he began to chant. She was tempted to listen to the words, but knew that she’d be unable to stop him from doing anything amiss. Instead, she let the words fade into the background concentrating only on the sensation of his hands and of the magic washing over her and warming her, seeping deep inside. Any worries she had about his ability to pleasure her were quickly laid to rest. At first she wondered about his instinctive knack for seeming to find just the right movements, until she realized his magic was virtually permeating her. He had to be feeling every sensation right along with her, even as she had the vague impression of him stroking himself toward completion with his other hand.
The words became deeper, more rhythmic, and Tara felt the pure white light of her own magic bubbling exuberantly upward to meet the dark blue-black river that rippled over her, building in pressure with her own need for climax. When it finally came, it was if she could feel the invisible bonds physically breaking as her magic exploded outward, filling her and consuming her. Mixed in with her own cries of ecstasy, she heard Ethan’s.
Suddenly, something seemed to be going wrong. The midnight blue swam at her again, attacking her. It pulled at her light, still fragile and not fully secure, and, in a panic, she realized Ethan’s price for his service. He was trying to secure her magic for his own.
Tara tried to concentrate, overwhelmed by the strength of power she hadn’t been able to feel in a long time. Vaguely, she remembered how to command it, and, asking for aide from the goddess, pushed Ethan forcibly away.
He yelled his frustration, but suddenly seemed to just give up, and Tara felt her magic snap back at her like a rubber band. When it jumped back, she was overwhelmed with a series of images and impressions, though they were too jumbled to instantly process.
Gasping, Tara shoved herself upright on the bed and pushed herself out of his reach.
“How dare you!” she yelled.
Ethan looked at her wildly. There was concern and confusion in his eyes. “I didn’t mean…”
“Better to deprive me of it entirely than to let me have all of it with no way to let it out,” she spat out, throwing his own words back at him.
He looked at her shocked. “Never all of it. I wouldn’t. You’d still have had access to far more than you’d had when you were bound.”
Tara continued to look at him sullenly.
Ethan glared back, but gave in first, slumping his shoulders in defeat and dropping his gaze. “You’re right,” he admitted softly. “I might not be good, but I’m not evil either. I shouldn’t have done that. Do you know that’s what Ripper used to accuse me of? Going too far?”
Again, Tara found herself assuming Ripper must have been more to Ethan than a mere friend. “I agree with him. That…that was…”
“You said you didn’t trust me.”
Tara sighed, losing her anger. She hadn’t trusted him, and, she realized, had actually expected him to do something exactly like what he had done, even if she hadn’t expected it to happen in exactly that way when she was so vulnerable. In fact, she was lucky he’d given up when he had or he very well might have taken a large part of her magic from her. He was what he was, after all, and she could still feel the enormous gift he’d given her wakening inside. “I would have shared, had you asked and told me that was what you wanted,” she admitted. “Can I at least trust you not to try it again?”
“Couldn’t if I wanted to,” he admitted. “It’s already starting to settle into you, no longer free for the taking.”
“I guess that’ll have to do then.” Tara shoved herself up, suddenly self-conscious of her nudity. She got up and threw on her shirt, then walked to the bathroom for a towel to clean herself. As an afterthought, she grabbed one for Ethan too, thinking his mess was likely greater than hers.
“I only wanted a bit,” Ethan confessed, as he caught the towel midair. “It would be easy enough to mix natural magic with Chaos, transferring ownership from your Goddess in an offering to Janus. I really don’t think you realize your own strength. You’ll have to be careful with that. Find a partner and practice with it a bit to build it up.”
Ethan cocked his head, considering his own words, and then his face was masked in a look of shock. “Interesting. I saw you, you know. When you pulled back. It’s just now beginning to become clear. A bit of your future perhaps? Certainly not your past.”
Tara looked at him, shaken, but curious as well. Who knew, she thought? Anything was possible after all. Her mother had taught her that.
“There’s something else as well. I think…I think I might have captured a bit of you after all, dove. Flecks of white. I don’t suppose?”
Tara checked herself mentally. There they were. Bits of blue, the tiniest fragments of Chaos. She told him as much.
“I apologize for that. We’ll hope there’s no side effects for either of us, eh? Though you still do owe me a favor.”
Tara stiffened, and Ethan rolled his eyes at her reaction. “Don’t worry. I couldn’t force you into something you don’t want to do. Not anymore, at least. Still, if you find something…”
She thought about it, and finally nodded. He might have proven to be a bit of a bastard, but she did owe him. The whole situation was odd, and it was getting confusing. It was far easier just to agree, really. It was also easier to change the subject. “So…my future?”
Ethan thought some more and grimaced. “You’ll find your practice partner soon, I’m guessing. A good balance for you. Good magic, strong magic, but tainted with darkness. Beware of that.”
A shadow flickered across his eyes, but he didn’t expand and tell her any more about the theoretical future he claimed to have glimpsed. Tara allowed herself to instead become preoccupied with something in his tone that hinted at a more personal reason to his warning. “Why beware? The darkness…is it dangerous?”
“Perhaps, but it’s not that. Differing degrees of darkness can cock-up a relationship. You’ve probably guessed what Ripper was to me, since I’ve been referring to him all night. You could say he was the one giant fuck-up in my life. As much as he tainted it, his magic wasn’t meant to be dark. Mine always was always as it is now. Ripper never could accept what I was, and I could never quite measure up.”
“Ethan?” Tara asked shyly, letting her fingers play at tracing the patterns on the tacky hotel bedspread. “Tell me about you and about him. I mean…if you don’t mind.”
Ethan seemed taken aback yet again, but he leaned back on the bed and started to tell her the story as she listened attentively. The story was rather fascinating, and, oddly, Tara found that the more she listened, the more acceptable Ethan became in her own mind. Certainly, her laugh came a little easier, and she found herself less and less on guard against his trying to take further advantage.
By the early hours of morning, they were both yawning and Tara found they’d somehow ended up back to front with Ethan more or less spooning her from behind while he talked, though between the blanket she was huddled in and his state of being fully dressed, it was hardly what she’d call intimate. Still, she admitted, it was nice-if he didn’t suddenly try to stab her in the back.
“May I ask you something?”
“Yes, my little dove,” Ethan said accommodatingly.
Tara giggled slightly. “Actually, I…I was going to ask why you call me a ‘dove.’”
It was obvious he hadn’t anticipated the question. Quietly, he took time to think it over. “It’s the symbol of purity. The Mother Goddess. I saw you handling the feathers in the store and felt your light; it just seemed appropriate, I suppose.”
Tara nodded her head against his arm, surprised to find herself agreeing. If she was a dove, she wondered silently, what would be Ethan’s corresponding daemon? At the back of her mind she felt his magic tickle her from where bits of it still seemed to rest deep inside. Again, she saw the iridescent blue-black and then she knew him instantly. “Raven. If I’m the Dove, then you are the Raven,” she explained.
She felt him as he laughed softly in her hair, catching the sound of delight in his voice. “Raven. The trickster, alternately hero and villain, but always a lover of disorder…and a bit of a thief. I suppose I am. Tara, my dear, in another life I do believe I could love you. My clever white dove.”
Tara snorted softly, suddenly finding herself with the upper hand. She patted his arm and pressed herself back into his heat. “You’re tired and a little bit crazy, I think. Sleep.” Without thinking, she put her magic behind the last of her words and was amazed at the feel of it, truly free for the first time in years. Ethan had no choice but to obey.
Tara, on the other hand, remained awake and let her mind wander, shivering as it returned to what she’d seen earlier, the mental impressions becoming clearer now. Much as Ethan had glimpsed her future, she was beginning to believe she had seen into his, and it disturbed her. His near future was going to be one of pain and entrapment, similar to, yet different from her own binding, though she wasn’t sure what that meant. But after that…there was contentment, followed by a type of joy. Love even. Tara recalled what he’d said about the love of his past. She wasn’t certain it would be the same person who would come back to him and make him whole, but she found herself hoping that it might be. Perhaps that would make the time of darkness worth it, she acknowledged, allowing that thought to buoy her into sleep.
She opened her eyes only a few hours later, but noticed that Ethan continued to sleep soundly. Careful not to wake him, she slid off the bed and gathered her clothes, surprised to find herself completely without shame for what she’d done and without condemnation for Ethan. She felt far more resentment toward those who had bound her and allowed her to be bound.
Hand at the door, Tara prepared to leave before she remembered what she’d seen for Ethan in his future, if that’s truly what it was. Leaning down she touched a finger to his brow and lips and bestowed a small blessing from her Goddess. “If you need your favor, Ethan, call me,” she whispered, before walking out of the hotel room, hoping to find the stop for the bus that would take her back across town to Sunnydale U.
Part 2 can be found here.