Fic: Terennoaptre 5/? [BtVS, FRT, B/G]
Title: Terennoaptre 5/?
Author: GylzGirl
Rating: FRT
Fandom: BtVS
Pairing: Buffy/Giles
Timeline: AU- Season 10 - Summer. Everything through OMWF happened.
Summary: Sunnydale's Hellmouth is going dormant just as news arrives from overseas that will change the lives of Buffy and Giles forever.
Beta: The Amazing lauratew. Any remaining errors are totally my fault.
Author's Notes: Chapters 1-3 are revised repostings. Story revised and continued for the summer_of_giles 2009. Anyone who already had the original 3 chapters up, feel free to archive the rest. Anyone else who'd like it, just ask.
******
V. Fear Factor
Buffy stepped inside the manor, trying not to let her mouth gape open at the hugeness of the interior. It wasn't much when compared to the castle, but it was certainly a step up from the little tract home she'd left in Sunnydale.
Her eyes flicked upward as she detected the sounds of movement in the floors above. Relia noticed this. "Don't worry, Dear. They are just cleaning. They were dispatched from Mormant at daybreak to freshen things up for you. There hasn't even been a caretaker in residence here for a decade and things have gotten a bit... musty."
Relia walked through the foyer and entered the great room. She moved to the window and threw open the thick azure velvet curtains that hung there. She opened the windows which creaked from disuse. "A little fresh air will help things along." The newly introduced daylight bathed over the room.
The furnishings seemed made entirely of ornately carved dark wood and expensive looking embroidered fabrics. There were touches of silver here and there; candlesticks, a decanter set, picture frames. The far wall was dominated by a large painted portrait of a man dressed in medieval garb. A great crystal chandelier dominated the three story high ceiling while a winding banister bordered stairs that snaked heavenward around the side of the room.
"Whoa," Buffy exhaled as she pressed forward into the room, walking across an ornate Oriental rug which muffled her footsteps until she reached the other side and found herself walking across blue-veined marble. Just as she was basking in the unbelievable fact that all of this was truly hers, she got a weird itch on the back of her head, like someone was staring at her. Buffy turned quickly but found nothing but the wall... and that huge portrait.
She found herself moving towards the far wall, trying to get a better look at the painting. The man depicted was tall, lean and not very handsome but carried himself with a sense of smugness. The richness of the fabric he was clothed in spoke of his wealth and his expression seemed to exude his entitlement to this finery. Buffy looked closer. His eyes. There was something about his eyes that she didn't like. She found she didn't want to look at his face and as her eyes dropped, they fell level with an engraved silver plate embedded into the base of the frame. She tried blowing away the dust that obscured the writing there and when that didn't work, she swiped across it with her thumb. "Heinrich Joseph Nest," she spoke as she read.
That name made the itch move to her brain. Buffy screwed her eyes tightly shut. She was remembering something. She gasped. Her eyes snapped open, directed straight at the eyes of the painting. "The Master."
Buffy realized with a sudden lurch in her stomach that she had just inherited the ancestral birthright of the vampire who had first killed her. She quickly scratched Xander Harris' name off of her mental hitlist and replaced it with that of Rupert Giles.
******
At the sound of approaching hoof beats, Giles found himself compelled to the window and looked out expectantly. He felt a wave of disappointment as his eyes fell across the figure of the returning General and not the smiling blond he'd been hoping to see. Giles shook his head and smiled at his own foolishness. It had only been the previous afternoon that he'd seen her. If this was how he was after a day, how was he ever going to manage two weeks?
He moved to a chair and sat down. It wasn't just missing her, he knew all too well. Buffy was alone out in the wilderness; some unknown disused house in a countryside overrun with creatures of the night. He should know. He was the one who had sent her away. "Two weeks," he muttered miserably aloud, then quickly looked around to make sure no one had heard him. What if something happened to her; to him?
Giles sighed and tilted his head back to thud against the high wood of the chair. She wasn't technically alone, he knew. He would never have allowed that. But Relia and the household staff were civilians and Buffy had but 4 soldiers at her disposal, all of which she was vastly superior to in fighting skill. She would be the front line of whatever challenge they faced. "What if I never see her again," he said quietly as a familiar fear born of many Sunnydale patrols settled like a lead weight in his stomach. This time, however, a new dread accompanied it. Buffy had slowly, through much effort on her part, transformed herself from a girl he was sent to watch over to a woman he was proud to fight alongside. In recent months, though he would barely admit it even to himself, she had become more than just a partner or even adopted family. She was so capable, so lovely, and she knew him so well. Giles had long since lost his heart to his tiny blond Slayer.
His hope had ebbed and waned on every lingering look or flirty exchange like a schoolgirl with a crush. When Cezar had shown up at his door and presented him with a birthright and sacred duty that he felt he could not refuse, he was almost relieved. He would have left Buffy to have a marvelous life and come to his new homeland alone, his scarred heart healing in degrees over something that could have never been.
But then she'd insisted she come with him. Almost against his will, hope battered at his heart, demanding to be let in. Eventually, he'd let it through. He'd let it fill him with joy at all the possibilities that now lay before them. And now the brutal realism he'd developed from years of living over a Hellmouth clutched at his chest, nearly choking him. What if something tragic did happen during this stupid ceremonial separation? What if they lost each other never knowing what they might have been able to have together?
Giles rubbed at his eye. He didn't think he could live through something like that; not again.
******
Buffy glared at the painting defiantly. When it became apparent that it wasn't going to leap to life and begin chasing her around the room, she turned her attention back to her companion. "Relia, is all this," she gestured around, "mine?"
"I believe the phrase is lock, stock and barrel?"
"And I can do anything I want with it?"
"Of course, Dear."
"So if I wanted to rip that portrait down and say... use it to start a big bonfire?"
"You would be welcome to do so." Relia smiled. "However, might I suggest donation to the national museum as an alternative? Simply out of respect for its antiquity?"
Buffy nodded. "That's fine. As long as it's gone."
"Will tomorrow be soon enough?"
Buffy looked at the painting again. "Works for me." Her eyes narrowed at it, hating it, hating him all over again. She thought she'd put this fear behind her long ago.
******
Giles put on a smile and motioned for Cezar to sit as he entered the room. "How did it go?"
"Your Miss Summers seemed rather surprised by the whole thing."
Giles grinned. "Yes. Yes, I'd imagine she was."
"She also mentioned something about killing Xander Harris."
"Ah," he nodded sagely. "Please remind me to warn Xander before he visits."
Cezar looked concerned. "She would not actually kill him, would she?"
"No, no not actual murder. But, Buffy's very creative. She'll find something that might make him wish she'd just get it over with and put him out of his misery."
"Ah," Cezar stated.
"But the ladies were... comfortable?"
"They were safe and the place looked better than it had in years. I am sure they will be well taken care of." Cezar stood and made to leave but turned once more toward Giles. "I believe your Miss Summers is still rather upset at the idea of being parted from you. I just... I just wanted you to know that I regret having to insist... That is, I had no wish to make your arrival in Terennoaptre... nor hers... Miss Summers that is. I only mean, I did not mean to make you, either of you, feel unwelcome."
Giles smiled. He stood and clapped his hand on Cezar's shoulder. "I understand. You had a duty to perform and Buffy understands that too... or at least she will once she's safely back in the castle. Might be best to steer clear of her for a few days when she returns though. Just to be on the safe side."
Cezar nodded. "I will do that. Don't worry, your Highness. Lady Buscan will look after her."
"Please call me Rupert. I fear it is a familiarity I will seldom get to enjoy from now on."
"Of course."
"Why is it Relia has taken such an interest in Buffy?" Giles gestured for Cezar to sit once more.
"Lady Buscan sees the path before Buffy as the one she has just been on. She regrets not succumbing to Lucian's attentions earlier... costing them time. I think she believes if she can give guidance to Buffy, guidance she did not herself have, then perhaps Buffy's journey will be happier than her own." Cezar smiled, looking wistfully into the distance. "She is an uncommonly thoughtful woman. I also think the idea of playing matchmaker for the two of you soothes her aching heart."
"You're quite fond of her, aren't you?" Giles said, then blinked. "Wait, did you say matchmaker?"
Cezar exhaled, relieved at dodging Giles' question. "I believe she thinks you both just need a little push." He stood and patted Giles' shoulder consolingly. "Best to just go along with it, really. Once Relia has a notion in her head, there is no shifting her."
Cezar left Giles to his thoughts which were currently tumbling over each other in a swirling avalanche of panic and amusement.
******
Buffy climbed quietly down the stairs, hastily fasting her robe. It was a quarter till 3 in the morning. Relia and their small delegation of staff had long since gone to bed. She smoothed her sleep-tousled hair into submission and came to stand before the painting of the Master's human self.
"Show yourself," she said quietly. "I know you're here. I can feel you."
"It appears that you've become my heir, Slayer." His laugh echoed throughout the room but somehow Buffy knew she was the only one who could hear it.
She turned and found him in his vampire form hovering about ten feet away, nearly transparent. Buffy smiled. "You're just a ghost."
"Oh not even that, my dear. A shade. A phantom of a shade. And after tomorrow, I won't even be that. Removing my last earthly possession from the land of my ancestors will sever that tie and I will just be gone. A bad memory. Well," he smiled. "Your bad memory to be precise."
"That's not exactly encouraging me not to get rid of the portrait. In fact, it's making me think twice about my whole bonfire idea and wondering if the kitchen staff would have thought to get any giant marshmallows."
The Master looked wistful. "Ah, I used to love the flavor of marshmallows. I had to stop eating them though. They'd get caught on my fangs and I couldn't get rid of it for days." He made to sit in one of the chairs but only managed to float above it in a vaguely sitting position. "It made for poor leadership of the minions. It was hard enough keeping them in line sometimes what with being trapped in that one little room. I didn't need them pointing fingers and snickering and calling me Cujo when they thought I couldn't hear."
Buffy blinked and then burst out laughing. She had to put her hand over her mouth to keep from waking the rest of the house. She sat in the chair opposite the Master and leaned back. He seemed to be smiling at her. "For someone I killed, you seem to be in a pretty good mood."
"I could say the same of you."
Buffy lost her smile.
"Oh Slayer, how do I make you understand? I am, well was, a master vampire. My job was to kill humans and above all other humans, to kill Slayers. That is how you become a master, my dear. By showing others that not even the Slayers can touch you. You, are a Slayer. Your job is to kill vampires. The more powerful the vampire you take out, the more people you are likely saving in the long run." He leaned forward resting his elbow on his knee and his chin on his palm. "I did my job, Slayer. I killed you. And for you to have been brought back and taken me out with such..."
"Skill?" Buffy said.
"Ease," he finished. "It was meant to be that way. Me dead and you alive. For what happened to have happened in the way it happened, it was written in the fabric of the universe at the beginning of time. You were meant for life, Slayer. And I was meant for this." He gestured at his own intangibility. "I firmly believe in fate and destiny. I always have. Even when I was him." He nodded to the portrait that now hung behind her. "Brash young buck. Smug and handsome and so sure of himself. Oh don't get me wrong, I wasn't a bad person believe it or not. Just... ambitious. I had everything a gentleman of that time could have, and it wasn't enough. I wanted more. I wanted to be king. So during one of the many coronation crises this beautiful little country of ours endured, I ventured out one night to prove that I was the bravest warrior they could ever want and that my blood was noble enough to usurp the lineage and begin a new royal house."
"So, how did you die? Ambushed by a pack of vamps?"
The Master smiled toothily at her. "No, my dear. Just one."
"One?"
"Yes. Just one. And I'm pretty sure he was an idi... well I suppose the term at the time would have been simple-minded." He stretched back in the chair. "I was convinced I was invincible and one dumb vampire ended everything I was. And it was a lesson I never seemed to learn. Even when I was a King, I still believed I was unbeatable, and one tiny girl ended everything that I'd become."
"So why the heart to heart? You seem awfully concerned with how I feel about everything that happened between us. Is that your punishment or something? Condemned to walk the Earth like some undead Dr. Phil?"
"Oh, Buffy. Don't you understand yet? I'm not really here. I mean, okay yes technically I am, but so faintly... only you can see me because you're still carrying me inside you like the big bogeyman you feared when you were a child. You're no longer a child." His image shimmered and became that of the man in the portrait. "And I am no longer a vampire. You freed me, Buffy."
She swallowed, confused. "If you're free than why are you here?"
He nodded again to the portrait. "As I said before, removing that portrait from this house will free my last earthly tie or it should. I'm afraid it won't work if you're still clinging on to the Master and what he did to you. No matter what he did, you still won. Even killing you wasn't enough to stop you. Let go of your fears, Buffy. Let him go to Hell where he belongs and let me move on to whatever awaits me."
She eyed him suspiciously and then stood. "No, I'm sorry I don't buy that. Why do you care?" She moved away from him. "Why are you here?" she asked again.
He smiled crookedly. "Who says I am, my sweet? If you were going to put a face to all your fears, it was bound to be mine now, wasn't it?"
"My fears?"
"As that portrait is my last tie to my human self, your fear of me is your last tie to the child you were but no longer are. You are afraid of being, of having all you could have because you still have the child in you who expects to die in every single battle she faces. You don't want to have things or people that make your life worth fighting for because it gives you so much more to lose that way. That makes you no better than me, my dear. A ghost haunting your own life."
"I'm not afraid to die. I've died twice and I always seem to find a way back."
"Yes, but they don't, do they? The others you've lost. That you couldn't save. Like your mother."
"Shut up," she said turning her back to the ghost and winding up facing the portrait again.
"So afraid to lose Giles that you'll risk never being with him."
She spun on heel to face him. "Giles? How d..." She took a calming breath and tilted her head. "You're not here. This is all me. This is all in my head." She turned back to the portrait. "I saw this thing and I wigged, that's all. Because part of me really was still afraid of you. But, you're gone. You're dust. You can never hurt me again. I know that now."
Buffy turned back to face him. "I am alive and you are dead." She walked right up to him and stared into his eyes. Calmly, she spoke. "Go be dead."
He smiled at her. "Bravo, Slayer." His voice echoed as he faded away. "Bravo."
When he was gone, Buffy looked around the room to make sure it was empty. She exhaled in relief and closed her eyes. Upon opening them again, she found herself laying in what was now her bedroom in what was now her castle. She sat up and ran a hand back through her hair. "Giles," she whispered as a smile crossed her face and she lay back down.
******
Chapter 6: Remembrances
Crossposted to summer_of_giles, allthejellies, buffy_giles
Previous Chapters:
Chapter I: King
Chapter II: Farewell Sunnydale
Chapter III: Country
Chapter IV: Duchess
Following Chapters:
Chapter VI: Remembrances
Chapter VII: Pen Pals
Chapter VIII: Reunion
Chapter IX: The Grand Ball
Chapter X: Morning Glory
Chapter XI: Rain
Chapter XII: Supernova
Chapter XIII: Coronation
Author: GylzGirl
Rating: FRT
Fandom: BtVS
Pairing: Buffy/Giles
Timeline: AU- Season 10 - Summer. Everything through OMWF happened.
Summary: Sunnydale's Hellmouth is going dormant just as news arrives from overseas that will change the lives of Buffy and Giles forever.
Beta: The Amazing lauratew. Any remaining errors are totally my fault.
Author's Notes: Chapters 1-3 are revised repostings. Story revised and continued for the summer_of_giles 2009. Anyone who already had the original 3 chapters up, feel free to archive the rest. Anyone else who'd like it, just ask.
******
V. Fear Factor
Buffy stepped inside the manor, trying not to let her mouth gape open at the hugeness of the interior. It wasn't much when compared to the castle, but it was certainly a step up from the little tract home she'd left in Sunnydale.
Her eyes flicked upward as she detected the sounds of movement in the floors above. Relia noticed this. "Don't worry, Dear. They are just cleaning. They were dispatched from Mormant at daybreak to freshen things up for you. There hasn't even been a caretaker in residence here for a decade and things have gotten a bit... musty."
Relia walked through the foyer and entered the great room. She moved to the window and threw open the thick azure velvet curtains that hung there. She opened the windows which creaked from disuse. "A little fresh air will help things along." The newly introduced daylight bathed over the room.
The furnishings seemed made entirely of ornately carved dark wood and expensive looking embroidered fabrics. There were touches of silver here and there; candlesticks, a decanter set, picture frames. The far wall was dominated by a large painted portrait of a man dressed in medieval garb. A great crystal chandelier dominated the three story high ceiling while a winding banister bordered stairs that snaked heavenward around the side of the room.
"Whoa," Buffy exhaled as she pressed forward into the room, walking across an ornate Oriental rug which muffled her footsteps until she reached the other side and found herself walking across blue-veined marble. Just as she was basking in the unbelievable fact that all of this was truly hers, she got a weird itch on the back of her head, like someone was staring at her. Buffy turned quickly but found nothing but the wall... and that huge portrait.
She found herself moving towards the far wall, trying to get a better look at the painting. The man depicted was tall, lean and not very handsome but carried himself with a sense of smugness. The richness of the fabric he was clothed in spoke of his wealth and his expression seemed to exude his entitlement to this finery. Buffy looked closer. His eyes. There was something about his eyes that she didn't like. She found she didn't want to look at his face and as her eyes dropped, they fell level with an engraved silver plate embedded into the base of the frame. She tried blowing away the dust that obscured the writing there and when that didn't work, she swiped across it with her thumb. "Heinrich Joseph Nest," she spoke as she read.
That name made the itch move to her brain. Buffy screwed her eyes tightly shut. She was remembering something. She gasped. Her eyes snapped open, directed straight at the eyes of the painting. "The Master."
Buffy realized with a sudden lurch in her stomach that she had just inherited the ancestral birthright of the vampire who had first killed her. She quickly scratched Xander Harris' name off of her mental hitlist and replaced it with that of Rupert Giles.
******
At the sound of approaching hoof beats, Giles found himself compelled to the window and looked out expectantly. He felt a wave of disappointment as his eyes fell across the figure of the returning General and not the smiling blond he'd been hoping to see. Giles shook his head and smiled at his own foolishness. It had only been the previous afternoon that he'd seen her. If this was how he was after a day, how was he ever going to manage two weeks?
He moved to a chair and sat down. It wasn't just missing her, he knew all too well. Buffy was alone out in the wilderness; some unknown disused house in a countryside overrun with creatures of the night. He should know. He was the one who had sent her away. "Two weeks," he muttered miserably aloud, then quickly looked around to make sure no one had heard him. What if something happened to her; to him?
Giles sighed and tilted his head back to thud against the high wood of the chair. She wasn't technically alone, he knew. He would never have allowed that. But Relia and the household staff were civilians and Buffy had but 4 soldiers at her disposal, all of which she was vastly superior to in fighting skill. She would be the front line of whatever challenge they faced. "What if I never see her again," he said quietly as a familiar fear born of many Sunnydale patrols settled like a lead weight in his stomach. This time, however, a new dread accompanied it. Buffy had slowly, through much effort on her part, transformed herself from a girl he was sent to watch over to a woman he was proud to fight alongside. In recent months, though he would barely admit it even to himself, she had become more than just a partner or even adopted family. She was so capable, so lovely, and she knew him so well. Giles had long since lost his heart to his tiny blond Slayer.
His hope had ebbed and waned on every lingering look or flirty exchange like a schoolgirl with a crush. When Cezar had shown up at his door and presented him with a birthright and sacred duty that he felt he could not refuse, he was almost relieved. He would have left Buffy to have a marvelous life and come to his new homeland alone, his scarred heart healing in degrees over something that could have never been.
But then she'd insisted she come with him. Almost against his will, hope battered at his heart, demanding to be let in. Eventually, he'd let it through. He'd let it fill him with joy at all the possibilities that now lay before them. And now the brutal realism he'd developed from years of living over a Hellmouth clutched at his chest, nearly choking him. What if something tragic did happen during this stupid ceremonial separation? What if they lost each other never knowing what they might have been able to have together?
Giles rubbed at his eye. He didn't think he could live through something like that; not again.
******
Buffy glared at the painting defiantly. When it became apparent that it wasn't going to leap to life and begin chasing her around the room, she turned her attention back to her companion. "Relia, is all this," she gestured around, "mine?"
"I believe the phrase is lock, stock and barrel?"
"And I can do anything I want with it?"
"Of course, Dear."
"So if I wanted to rip that portrait down and say... use it to start a big bonfire?"
"You would be welcome to do so." Relia smiled. "However, might I suggest donation to the national museum as an alternative? Simply out of respect for its antiquity?"
Buffy nodded. "That's fine. As long as it's gone."
"Will tomorrow be soon enough?"
Buffy looked at the painting again. "Works for me." Her eyes narrowed at it, hating it, hating him all over again. She thought she'd put this fear behind her long ago.
******
Giles put on a smile and motioned for Cezar to sit as he entered the room. "How did it go?"
"Your Miss Summers seemed rather surprised by the whole thing."
Giles grinned. "Yes. Yes, I'd imagine she was."
"She also mentioned something about killing Xander Harris."
"Ah," he nodded sagely. "Please remind me to warn Xander before he visits."
Cezar looked concerned. "She would not actually kill him, would she?"
"No, no not actual murder. But, Buffy's very creative. She'll find something that might make him wish she'd just get it over with and put him out of his misery."
"Ah," Cezar stated.
"But the ladies were... comfortable?"
"They were safe and the place looked better than it had in years. I am sure they will be well taken care of." Cezar stood and made to leave but turned once more toward Giles. "I believe your Miss Summers is still rather upset at the idea of being parted from you. I just... I just wanted you to know that I regret having to insist... That is, I had no wish to make your arrival in Terennoaptre... nor hers... Miss Summers that is. I only mean, I did not mean to make you, either of you, feel unwelcome."
Giles smiled. He stood and clapped his hand on Cezar's shoulder. "I understand. You had a duty to perform and Buffy understands that too... or at least she will once she's safely back in the castle. Might be best to steer clear of her for a few days when she returns though. Just to be on the safe side."
Cezar nodded. "I will do that. Don't worry, your Highness. Lady Buscan will look after her."
"Please call me Rupert. I fear it is a familiarity I will seldom get to enjoy from now on."
"Of course."
"Why is it Relia has taken such an interest in Buffy?" Giles gestured for Cezar to sit once more.
"Lady Buscan sees the path before Buffy as the one she has just been on. She regrets not succumbing to Lucian's attentions earlier... costing them time. I think she believes if she can give guidance to Buffy, guidance she did not herself have, then perhaps Buffy's journey will be happier than her own." Cezar smiled, looking wistfully into the distance. "She is an uncommonly thoughtful woman. I also think the idea of playing matchmaker for the two of you soothes her aching heart."
"You're quite fond of her, aren't you?" Giles said, then blinked. "Wait, did you say matchmaker?"
Cezar exhaled, relieved at dodging Giles' question. "I believe she thinks you both just need a little push." He stood and patted Giles' shoulder consolingly. "Best to just go along with it, really. Once Relia has a notion in her head, there is no shifting her."
Cezar left Giles to his thoughts which were currently tumbling over each other in a swirling avalanche of panic and amusement.
******
Buffy climbed quietly down the stairs, hastily fasting her robe. It was a quarter till 3 in the morning. Relia and their small delegation of staff had long since gone to bed. She smoothed her sleep-tousled hair into submission and came to stand before the painting of the Master's human self.
"Show yourself," she said quietly. "I know you're here. I can feel you."
"It appears that you've become my heir, Slayer." His laugh echoed throughout the room but somehow Buffy knew she was the only one who could hear it.
She turned and found him in his vampire form hovering about ten feet away, nearly transparent. Buffy smiled. "You're just a ghost."
"Oh not even that, my dear. A shade. A phantom of a shade. And after tomorrow, I won't even be that. Removing my last earthly possession from the land of my ancestors will sever that tie and I will just be gone. A bad memory. Well," he smiled. "Your bad memory to be precise."
"That's not exactly encouraging me not to get rid of the portrait. In fact, it's making me think twice about my whole bonfire idea and wondering if the kitchen staff would have thought to get any giant marshmallows."
The Master looked wistful. "Ah, I used to love the flavor of marshmallows. I had to stop eating them though. They'd get caught on my fangs and I couldn't get rid of it for days." He made to sit in one of the chairs but only managed to float above it in a vaguely sitting position. "It made for poor leadership of the minions. It was hard enough keeping them in line sometimes what with being trapped in that one little room. I didn't need them pointing fingers and snickering and calling me Cujo when they thought I couldn't hear."
Buffy blinked and then burst out laughing. She had to put her hand over her mouth to keep from waking the rest of the house. She sat in the chair opposite the Master and leaned back. He seemed to be smiling at her. "For someone I killed, you seem to be in a pretty good mood."
"I could say the same of you."
Buffy lost her smile.
"Oh Slayer, how do I make you understand? I am, well was, a master vampire. My job was to kill humans and above all other humans, to kill Slayers. That is how you become a master, my dear. By showing others that not even the Slayers can touch you. You, are a Slayer. Your job is to kill vampires. The more powerful the vampire you take out, the more people you are likely saving in the long run." He leaned forward resting his elbow on his knee and his chin on his palm. "I did my job, Slayer. I killed you. And for you to have been brought back and taken me out with such..."
"Skill?" Buffy said.
"Ease," he finished. "It was meant to be that way. Me dead and you alive. For what happened to have happened in the way it happened, it was written in the fabric of the universe at the beginning of time. You were meant for life, Slayer. And I was meant for this." He gestured at his own intangibility. "I firmly believe in fate and destiny. I always have. Even when I was him." He nodded to the portrait that now hung behind her. "Brash young buck. Smug and handsome and so sure of himself. Oh don't get me wrong, I wasn't a bad person believe it or not. Just... ambitious. I had everything a gentleman of that time could have, and it wasn't enough. I wanted more. I wanted to be king. So during one of the many coronation crises this beautiful little country of ours endured, I ventured out one night to prove that I was the bravest warrior they could ever want and that my blood was noble enough to usurp the lineage and begin a new royal house."
"So, how did you die? Ambushed by a pack of vamps?"
The Master smiled toothily at her. "No, my dear. Just one."
"One?"
"Yes. Just one. And I'm pretty sure he was an idi... well I suppose the term at the time would have been simple-minded." He stretched back in the chair. "I was convinced I was invincible and one dumb vampire ended everything I was. And it was a lesson I never seemed to learn. Even when I was a King, I still believed I was unbeatable, and one tiny girl ended everything that I'd become."
"So why the heart to heart? You seem awfully concerned with how I feel about everything that happened between us. Is that your punishment or something? Condemned to walk the Earth like some undead Dr. Phil?"
"Oh, Buffy. Don't you understand yet? I'm not really here. I mean, okay yes technically I am, but so faintly... only you can see me because you're still carrying me inside you like the big bogeyman you feared when you were a child. You're no longer a child." His image shimmered and became that of the man in the portrait. "And I am no longer a vampire. You freed me, Buffy."
She swallowed, confused. "If you're free than why are you here?"
He nodded again to the portrait. "As I said before, removing that portrait from this house will free my last earthly tie or it should. I'm afraid it won't work if you're still clinging on to the Master and what he did to you. No matter what he did, you still won. Even killing you wasn't enough to stop you. Let go of your fears, Buffy. Let him go to Hell where he belongs and let me move on to whatever awaits me."
She eyed him suspiciously and then stood. "No, I'm sorry I don't buy that. Why do you care?" She moved away from him. "Why are you here?" she asked again.
He smiled crookedly. "Who says I am, my sweet? If you were going to put a face to all your fears, it was bound to be mine now, wasn't it?"
"My fears?"
"As that portrait is my last tie to my human self, your fear of me is your last tie to the child you were but no longer are. You are afraid of being, of having all you could have because you still have the child in you who expects to die in every single battle she faces. You don't want to have things or people that make your life worth fighting for because it gives you so much more to lose that way. That makes you no better than me, my dear. A ghost haunting your own life."
"I'm not afraid to die. I've died twice and I always seem to find a way back."
"Yes, but they don't, do they? The others you've lost. That you couldn't save. Like your mother."
"Shut up," she said turning her back to the ghost and winding up facing the portrait again.
"So afraid to lose Giles that you'll risk never being with him."
She spun on heel to face him. "Giles? How d..." She took a calming breath and tilted her head. "You're not here. This is all me. This is all in my head." She turned back to the portrait. "I saw this thing and I wigged, that's all. Because part of me really was still afraid of you. But, you're gone. You're dust. You can never hurt me again. I know that now."
Buffy turned back to face him. "I am alive and you are dead." She walked right up to him and stared into his eyes. Calmly, she spoke. "Go be dead."
He smiled at her. "Bravo, Slayer." His voice echoed as he faded away. "Bravo."
When he was gone, Buffy looked around the room to make sure it was empty. She exhaled in relief and closed her eyes. Upon opening them again, she found herself laying in what was now her bedroom in what was now her castle. She sat up and ran a hand back through her hair. "Giles," she whispered as a smile crossed her face and she lay back down.
******
Chapter 6: Remembrances
Crossposted to summer_of_giles, allthejellies, buffy_giles
Previous Chapters:
Chapter I: King
Chapter II: Farewell Sunnydale
Chapter III: Country
Chapter IV: Duchess
Following Chapters:
Chapter VI: Remembrances
Chapter VII: Pen Pals
Chapter VIII: Reunion
Chapter IX: The Grand Ball
Chapter X: Morning Glory
Chapter XI: Rain
Chapter XII: Supernova
Chapter XIII: Coronation