FIC: THE CHOSEN ONE (Part 1 of 3)
Title: The Chosen One
Author: chevron17
Beta: Self and computer - so sorry, I completely ran out of time - please let me know if you see anything and I will fix!
Pairing: Giles and Buffy friendship, er, sort of, after they're sorted out
Other Characters: Edmund Giles (our Giles' Dad), Various Council Dudes, and Demons
Rating: R (just to be safe) for slightly more than series-level vampire-type violence
Text/Font Conventions: Italics represents unvoiced thoughts, emphasis, ancient text or foreign language, based on context.
Length: Approximately 8300 Words, 44,500 Characters, or 22 Pages in 12PT Verdana, total for all three parts.
Timeframe: Total AU, Loosely based on concepts/atmospherics from the Wish!Verse. The Watcher's Council is sort of a monastic society, and the atmosphere is a bit post-apocalyptic medieval-ish, with very limited technology.
Summary: In a Post-Apocalyptic future, one man sets out to find the one girl in all the world who can make it better. Five men before him have died trying.
Disclaimer: Buffyverse and characters property of Joss Whedon, et al. This is a not-for-profit amateur work done with respect and intent of preserving and extending interest in the wonderful world of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.
Warnings: Slightly more than series-level vampire-type violence, a bit o angst, positive and hopeful, if not happy, ending.
The Chronicles describe a time long ago, a time when the world had fallen into darkness and chaos, when the demons ruled, and humanity lived in fear and trembling.
The destruction was unprecedented, technology was lost, and society returned to a life of simple farming and husbandry. Even the Council of Watchers, once the beacon of light to whom all turned, had been reduced to a single enclave, sheltering in a deteriorating stronghold in the English countryside. They struggled to survive under near-constant siege from the vampires, who hoped to wipe out the last vestiges of resistance to their rule.
The Slayer had been late to her calling. Unorthodox, untrained, a child of desperate times, she hunted to satisfy her own desires, not to preserve the lives of innocents. Old Merrick had managed to make contact with her, but he died before he could show her the true meaning of her Calling. The Council sent four other men - skilled, capable men - to be her Companion and guide. She chose none of them, and they, too, fell victim to the inevitable fate that awaits a man abroad at night when the demons roam.
It fell to one man, a young Watcher, fully trained, but himself unorthodox, whose own path had strayed from the ways of the Council, to try his hand to save the Slayer from her own demons, and thusly, to save the world.
**************************************
Rupert Giles finished placing a few selected items into his small shoulder satchel. One satchel of supplies, and one weapon of his choice, were all that were permitted to him as he set out upon his mission. His intelligence, and his training, were supposed to provide for all else. He sighed. His intelligence told him he was likely to need a lot more.
He was a Watcher. It was a noble profession, highly respected in the Old Times, before the Darkness came. It was his job, and the job of the men of his calling before him, to be companion and teacher to the Slayer and keep the world safe from the demons. But something had gone wrong. The current Slayer had not had a proper Calling, and she had not received the benefit of a traditional Watcher Companion. Something from the Darkness had interfered, and none of the Elder Watchers had seen it coming.
His father, Edmund, had tried to protect him. He'd spoken to the other Elders, saying that his son's history did not align with the efforts needed to establish a relationship with this difficult Slayer. But Senior Elder Travers had disagreed, saying that Rupert's past might be the very thing that would save him and turn the Slayer on to the path of hope. Much as Rupert found the older Watcher to be difficult and deceitful, in this case, he was inclined to agree with him, much to his father's anguish. They both knew Travers thought of him as an embarrassment, and had wanted him dead for some time.
A soft knock came upon the door of his room, and he opened the door to find his father, gray from worry and exhaustion, standing before him.
“Rupert,” his father began. “There's only a little time left before the Sending.”
“I know, Father. I'm ready - save for one thing.” The younger Giles lowered himself respectfully to his knees before his visitor, bowing his head. “If I may, Father, I would ask your blessing before I go.”
The Elder Giles dropped to his own knees before his son, overcome with emotion. He threw his arms around Rupert, choking back a sob.
“My dear Rupert, . . . my precious son, . . . only child of my body. Know that if I could save you from this, I would. No Watcher has ever faced what you are about to face and lived.”
“I know, Father,” Rupert replied earnestly, trying to lift his father's spirit. “But I have to believe in a better world. It was before, and it can be again. I don't flatter myself to think that I will be the one to solve this, but we can not give up, we have to keep trying.”
Try as he might, Edmund could find no response. Rupert had been chastised for breaking tradition, for going on a journey beyond the enclave walls, for mingling with those closer to the demons, and learning their ways first hand. Yet who among those who had punished his son could face the moment of their Sending and still find hope in this time? Who among them had his son's courage? None.
Gaining control of his emotions at last, Edmund laid his hands on his son's head. “May the traditions and spirits of our Ancestors guide you. May you find your way in the dark and in the mists. May you prove a worthy Companion to the Slayer. May she embrace you and protect you and find her Path through you.”
“Thank you, Father,” Rupert said softly. He stood and reached to gently pull his father to his feet as well. He met his father's fierce hug with one of his own.
“Would you carry my sword, Father?” Rupert asked, granting his father the high honor of standing with him in the Sending.
Edmund did not reply, his eyes bright with unshed tears, but extended his hand to accept his son's weapon. He held it in both hands and raised it heavenward. He drew the blade a few inches from its scabbard, and made a small cut on his own hand, pressing his blood to the cold, sharp metal. “By a father's love, and by his blood, I charge you in the name of all earthly powers of Light to protect my son and serve him well in his mission.”
As Edmund returned the blade fully to its scabbard, and held it respectfully at his side, Rupert bent to pick up his meger satchel.
Just then, the tower bells began to toll.
“It's time,” Rupert said, and with his father at his side, he walked to the front gate of the Watcher's compound to meet his fate.
****************************************
(Continued in Part 2 of 3)