After the Endings (Dawn/Illyria, PG13)
Title After the Endings
Author Brutti ma buoni
Pairing Dawn/Illyria
Rating PG13 but please see warnings
Words 650
Warnings Character death, suicidal thoughts
Prompts for snowpuppies at femslash_minis, who wanted finding something in common, kiss and a mention of character death
A/N There are elements of Dawn's mythology which come from my Rulesverse. You absolutely don’t need to have read that to understand this. If you have read it, this may perhaps be one of the endings that come to pass, but it's not canon.
When they kiss, it's like eternity.
There's a reason for that, of course.
Illyria's lips are cold, ice-frosted millennia before. That's okay. Dawn has heat and light enough for both of them. Mouths meet, ice melts, and it's as though they were never apart.
This, technically, is not true. They haven't seen or spoken to each other for almost half a century. It's the way they do things. Immortality wears out relationships, faster than light fading as the decades pass. Now, they ration themselves.
This meeting is essential. Touch is needed. Hands slip, grasp, curve, familiarize.
Yes, it's you. It's me. We're together again. Again. Again. Oh please, again.
They barely speak. It isn’t required. They have been here many times before.
Dawn remembers the first time. The very first time they kissed. How long ago? A lifetime or seven, or more. Mayflies, the others, ephemeral and fluttering in and out of Dawn and Illyria's world. Only they endure.
*
Memory is strong. Conjures scenes from Before.
"So, you're immortal huh? Sucks to be you."
"I am ageless. I am endless. I am greater than you can imagine."
"Oh really?" Innocent blinking, poised to shatter pretensions. "I'm the Key."
The sweet moment of realization on Illyria's face. Chagrin that she couldn't sense the Key in her new body. Fury that she'd been outwitted, less than omniscient. And then the flicker, of camaraderie and connection and intent.
One blue-tipped hand reaching for Dawn's cheek, cupping. Illyria's thumb running along Dawn's lower lip, gently as she tilted both their faces to meet in perfect synchrony. The kiss which followed, inevitable as rockfalls, a taste of forever.
And then the embarrassed coughing behind them, as family and friends watched a whole new thing blossom before their eyes. "Uh, Dawnie? Something you want to tell us?"
Sweet memories, all of them.
*
This isn't the face Illyria had then. Shells crack, over the centuries, requiring replacement. Dawn hopes this face belonged to another dying woman taken at her last breath. Not another Fred.
Dawn's face doesn't change. Made from nineteen-year-old sister-flesh, she reached nineteen and stuck.
There are worse ages to face eternity.
Dawn doesn't know which is preferable. To be frozen forever or to slough off your dead, sequentially, like a hermit crab growing too large for its shells. Perhaps they're both equally horrific in their own ways.
There are reasons for them to be together. That is just one.
*
Today is different. After the meeting, the kissing, the hot yes needy naked sex that takes them almost to eternity but flings them back to Earth at last, there are words to be spoken.
Even eternal creatures can change.
"Spike is dead," says Illyria.
"Yep." Dawn can't talk about it. She was there. Had to be.
"He was the last."
It may be arbitrary, but this was always the deal with Illyria. They'd go on, so long as someone who knew them way back when also went on. They've made friends since, lovers, family, demon and human and more. But they outlived the second generation, and the third. After the fourth generation, they agreed it: once the last of their first friends was gone, so would they be. You don't outlive your generation.
Of course, vampires live a long, long time.
It's possible they have never truly believed that this day would arrive. But now they are finding that Spike's end brings theirs, like summer brings winter or darkness light. No rushing, to finish the last tasks that tie them to this world. No hesitation, either.
Once the kissing is done, they will part.
Illyria returns to the Well, to await another rebirth.
Dawn returns to the aether, and prays there will be no second incarnation for the Key.
But the kissing is sweet. So they linger, at the last.
***
Author Brutti ma buoni
Pairing Dawn/Illyria
Rating PG13 but please see warnings
Words 650
Warnings Character death, suicidal thoughts
Prompts for snowpuppies at femslash_minis, who wanted finding something in common, kiss and a mention of character death
A/N There are elements of Dawn's mythology which come from my Rulesverse. You absolutely don’t need to have read that to understand this. If you have read it, this may perhaps be one of the endings that come to pass, but it's not canon.
When they kiss, it's like eternity.
There's a reason for that, of course.
Illyria's lips are cold, ice-frosted millennia before. That's okay. Dawn has heat and light enough for both of them. Mouths meet, ice melts, and it's as though they were never apart.
This, technically, is not true. They haven't seen or spoken to each other for almost half a century. It's the way they do things. Immortality wears out relationships, faster than light fading as the decades pass. Now, they ration themselves.
This meeting is essential. Touch is needed. Hands slip, grasp, curve, familiarize.
Yes, it's you. It's me. We're together again. Again. Again. Oh please, again.
They barely speak. It isn’t required. They have been here many times before.
Dawn remembers the first time. The very first time they kissed. How long ago? A lifetime or seven, or more. Mayflies, the others, ephemeral and fluttering in and out of Dawn and Illyria's world. Only they endure.
*
Memory is strong. Conjures scenes from Before.
"So, you're immortal huh? Sucks to be you."
"I am ageless. I am endless. I am greater than you can imagine."
"Oh really?" Innocent blinking, poised to shatter pretensions. "I'm the Key."
The sweet moment of realization on Illyria's face. Chagrin that she couldn't sense the Key in her new body. Fury that she'd been outwitted, less than omniscient. And then the flicker, of camaraderie and connection and intent.
One blue-tipped hand reaching for Dawn's cheek, cupping. Illyria's thumb running along Dawn's lower lip, gently as she tilted both their faces to meet in perfect synchrony. The kiss which followed, inevitable as rockfalls, a taste of forever.
And then the embarrassed coughing behind them, as family and friends watched a whole new thing blossom before their eyes. "Uh, Dawnie? Something you want to tell us?"
Sweet memories, all of them.
*
This isn't the face Illyria had then. Shells crack, over the centuries, requiring replacement. Dawn hopes this face belonged to another dying woman taken at her last breath. Not another Fred.
Dawn's face doesn't change. Made from nineteen-year-old sister-flesh, she reached nineteen and stuck.
There are worse ages to face eternity.
Dawn doesn't know which is preferable. To be frozen forever or to slough off your dead, sequentially, like a hermit crab growing too large for its shells. Perhaps they're both equally horrific in their own ways.
There are reasons for them to be together. That is just one.
*
Today is different. After the meeting, the kissing, the hot yes needy naked sex that takes them almost to eternity but flings them back to Earth at last, there are words to be spoken.
Even eternal creatures can change.
"Spike is dead," says Illyria.
"Yep." Dawn can't talk about it. She was there. Had to be.
"He was the last."
It may be arbitrary, but this was always the deal with Illyria. They'd go on, so long as someone who knew them way back when also went on. They've made friends since, lovers, family, demon and human and more. But they outlived the second generation, and the third. After the fourth generation, they agreed it: once the last of their first friends was gone, so would they be. You don't outlive your generation.
Of course, vampires live a long, long time.
It's possible they have never truly believed that this day would arrive. But now they are finding that Spike's end brings theirs, like summer brings winter or darkness light. No rushing, to finish the last tasks that tie them to this world. No hesitation, either.
Once the kissing is done, they will part.
Illyria returns to the Well, to await another rebirth.
Dawn returns to the aether, and prays there will be no second incarnation for the Key.
But the kissing is sweet. So they linger, at the last.
***