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FF: (Return of Legends) Book One: Prophecy's Curse (1/?)
Okay guys this is a new trilogy I've been working on. Before I've
invested a lot of time I'd like to have a few opinions on whether to
continue or give it up.
Later
Alex
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Title: Prophcey's Curse (1/?)
Author: Alex P.
Feedback: Please any comments or suggestions to: keeper444@xxxxxxxxx
Archive: Whatever or whoever Just tell me
Summary: A year after "If Destiny Wills It" and a whole new threat has
come to town, that will test the Slayer and Great Sorceress's new found
powers.
Spoilers: This is my own twisted little universe and, while there are
characters and Sunnydale from the show their skills and places in these
stories are purely of my own demented imagination. Sorry if it offends
(not).
Disclaimer: The characters of Buffy, Willow, Giles, and any others from
BTVS are the property of Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy etc. No
infringement of any kind intended and no money made.
Warning: Contains scenes of a loving relationship between two consenting
women. If you have a problem with that (why are you here?) or it is
illegal where you live (I suggest you move to my end of the
gutter...quickly) then PLEASE DELETE THIS NOW !!!!!
Rating: Possible PG-13 to R in some places.
Pairing: B/W
[[thoughts]]
***flashbacks***
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Title: Prophecy's Curse (1/?)
Author: Alex P.
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The moon was reaching its zenith and Buffy was headed for home. Another
slow night of slaying: only three newbies, and a stray demon whose heart
wasn't really in it. She would have been bored if her mind hadn't been
occupied elsewhere.
Here it was, June twentieth already; less than six shopping weeks left
until their first anniversary and she had no idea what to get her wife.
[[Geez, talk about a stereotype,]] the Slayer scolded herself in
frustration. [[We've know each other all this time, I can see her
thoughts for God's sake, and I haven't the slightest idea what she wants
or what would make her happy.]]
The small blonde was so distracted that she almost didn't feel her
slayer sense going off like a car alarm. She spun around, trying to
locate the threat, but the unnatural speed of the older vampire suddenly
behind her helped him to blindside her.
Running at full speed, he collided with her from the side: the blow took
her off her feet and together they rolled across the dewy grass of the
small clearing.
They both regained their feet quickly; spun to face each other, slowly
circling, looking for an opening to attack. Then as if a signal was
given they attacked simultaneously. The vampire tried to grab Buffy by
the throat, stopped just in time by a right cross to the temple.
She knocked him back a few steps, trying to follow through but her
opponent countered with a side kick that launched her sideways, flying
through the air until she slammed roughly into a crumbling tombstone.
She let out a gasp of pain as she felt a rib give way on impact.
The vampire noticed her gasp and saw the way she winced as she pushed
away from the granite.
"My my, Slayer," the vampire hissed, his face got even uglier as he
attempted a victorious grin. "Could it be that the Chosen One isn't as
tough as she pretends to be?"
"Don't count on it, Fangs." Buffy snarled. "I could kick your butt in my
sleep with both legs broken. By the way, who dresses you, a clown?!"
Growling in fury, the vampire launched himself at the weakened Slayer;
enraged by her disrespectful comment, reacting just as Buffy knew he
would.
Sure of a quick victory, he charged, blinded with anger at her
insolence, he made it easy for Buffy to side step his awkward leap, and
she brought a lightning-quick elbow down on the back of the vampire's
neck.
The blow, combined with his uncontrolled forward momentum, drove him
head first into the same tombstone she had hit.
His head slammed into the solid granite, the stone cracking under the
impact.
The stunned vampire rose to his feet and shook his head, trying to clear
it. Before he could regain his senses, the Slayer leapt into air and
delivered a scissor kick that connected with his chin and sent him
sprawling to the ground.
She somersaulted over to land straddling the vampire's abdomen, and with
a flourish produced a stake seemingly from thin air, driving it into his
heart.
Buffy watched as her opponent disappeared in to a cloud of dust. She
felt rather pleased with the outcome of the fight, until she moved and
was reminded of her broken rib.
It joined her other forgotten injuries in protesting loudly at her
neglect. Letting out a distracted sigh, she gingerly dusted herself off
and slowly rose to her feet.
Once again she turned towards home and the red-headed center of her
universe, her eyes glazing over as she once again became lost in
thought.
"Where was I," she asked herself brightly. "Oh, yeah. What *do* you get
the witch that has everything?"
==============
"Damn it, Giles, are you *sure* there's nothing we can do?" the
red-haired witch asked for the fifth time. "I mean, there's always been
some way around these prophecies before." Her tone was that pleading but
somehow irritated tone he recognised so well. "Why not this one?"
"Really, Willow," Giles said trying to calm the agitated young woman
stalking his living room. "it's not as if the prophecy is calling for
the end of the world. It just says that the "prince of darkness" will
come to the Hellmouth in search of his lost love. Why is it upsetting
you so badly?"
Willow tapped the book impatiently. "Are you losing your fabulous highly
trained watcher skills, Giles? 'He will come in search...'" She skipped
over a couple of over-flowery lines, "'And find her at great cost to
all'."
He blinked, looking at her blankly. Willow gave him an exasperated sigh
for his troubles. "Giles, where have you been the last seven or eight
years?" she snapped, unsure why the ex-watcher and her wife's surrogate
father was being so obtuse. "Does the phrase "at great cost" ring a
bell?
Giles took off his glasses, cleaning the lenses absently as he watched
the young witch - and more importantly soulmate to his Slayer - pacing
back and forth in front of his desk.
He was sure that the expensive Persian rug would soon have a rut worn
through it. Willow was the picture of frustration: she couldn't believe
that this normally intelligent man didn't understand why she was so
worried.
"Willow, please sit down." he pleaded quietly, attempting to calm the
Slayer's wife, "I'm sure, if we just sit down and give this some
thought... "
The redhead threw herself into one of his over-stuffed leather easy
chairs, obviously in a mood, her eyes glaring holes through the man
behind the desk. She couldn't believe how things had changed, usually it
was she that was the voice of calm and reason, reassuring the others,
but now she could see the obvious problems presented by this new
prophecy that apparently even Giles couldn't.
"Look, Giles, I know you just aren't looking," she said calmly, trying
desperately to get the ex-watcher to see her point. "The prophecy says
this "prince of darkness" will be *led* to the Hellmouth to find his
lost love. She will be found but refuse him at a great cost to all.
Isn't that what it says?"
"Well, yes, but there is no mention of the Sorceress or the Slayer."
Giles studied the ancient text in front of him again, flicking the
pages, "So I don't understand why you are as worried as you are.
This is just an obscure prophecy written in a little known book of bad
poetry, by a half mad Romanian monk that spent most of his short sad
life confined in an isolated monastery.
The only reason I even have it is one of my old contacts thought it
would be a great joke to show me such mad ramblings. I only showed it to
you because I thought you'd like to see a prophecy that didn't involve
you or Buffy for a change.
So why are you so upset?"
The Sorceress let out a long suffering sigh and leaned forward, locking
eyes with the normally observant Englishman, hoping that the
story-telling techniques Lugh had shown her would help him grasp what
she was saying.
"All right, now look at this from my point of view," the frustrated
witch said, her eyes taking on an eerie glow, and her voice sounding
like a someone teaching algebra to a particularly dense child. "First it
says he will be *led* here. But it doesn't say by whom, does it? And I
would think that might be important, don't you?"
"Well, yes but..."
She held up her hand to stop his premature comment.
"Not yet, I'm not done," she warned casually. "Okay, now, it talks about
a "prince of darkness". I have no idea who that might be. Do you?"
Giles could only shake his head and wait for her to continue.
"It would seem to me that it would be pretty important to know who and
what he is, don't you?" she went on before he could comment again. "Most
important, though, and what bothers me the most is this thing." Her
glowing eyes intensified as she spoke. "The prophecy speaks of something
at a great cost and do you have any thoughts about who usually pays the
great costs on this Hellmouth? The *Slayer* that's who, and if my Buffy
is hurt because you and your people treated this like a joke or held
*anything* back then I promise you, the Hellmouth will seem like a
resort vacation compared to what I'll do."
"Really, Willow," Giles protested, unsure of this person with the
glowing eyes, "I see no reason for threats."
"Oh, no, my dear watcher," Willow purred menacingly. "I'm not making
threats, this is a *promise*. I may be sworn not to take a human life,
but there are things I know that would make death seem a charitable
gift."
The two stared across the desk at each other for several heartbeats
judging each others resolve. It was the ex-watcher that dropped his eyes
first.
"Very well, Willow. We will investigate this further," He promised
conceding defeat. "but I hardly see any reason for all this worry."
"That's fine, Giles," Willow answered softly, "I'll worry enough for us
both." She glanced up. "Enough of this for now, Buffy's here."
All further discussion was interrupted when Giles' front door slammed
open.
"Hey guys, I'm home!" the exuberant voice of the Slayer echoed through
the townhouse. "Where's my honey?"
With a 100 watt smile on her face the red headed witch ran out of the
study and leapt into the waiting arms of her beloved wife.
"Hey babe, how was your night?" Willow asked as she nuzzled Buffy's
neck. "Anything exciting goin' on out there?"
"Uh-uh, cutie." Buffy said between kisses holding her universe tightly
in her arms. "Nothing out there is as exciting as my Wills, not even
close."
The witch stopped nuzzling and looked into her wife's eyes.
"You Slayers say the sweetest things," she whispered so that only Buffy
could hear, then got serious. "Now tell me where you're hurt, and don't
try to fool me. I can feel it."
The Slayer winced slightly at her wife's intense gaze, giving up before
she was hit with the dreaded resolve face.
"All right, all right, just don't look at me like that." She stepped
back and rubbed her side. "It's mostly bumps and bruises, nothing to
worry about."
She tried to stop there, but one look at her lover's face told the
Chosen One that the Great Sorceress wasn't buying it.
"Okay." She knew when she was beaten. "I think I probably broke a rib,
but that's all."
"That's all!" Willow quipped trying to hide her irritation at the
Slayer's evasiveness. "I think that's quite enough."
She stepped back and quickly examined her lover.
"Well at least your clothes aren't a complete loss, but that top is
totalled." She glanced over the rest of Buffy's clothes quickly, then
looked at her tired and hurt lover and gave her a sultry smile. "Come on
home, baby, I'll run you a nice hot bath and we'll take care of all
those nasty ol' Slayer boo-boos."
They both laughed and wrapped in each others arms headed for the door.
"We'll finish this tomorrow, Giles," Willow called as they went out the
door. "Right now I have a Slayer to bathe."
"Oooh, can I have bubbles too?" Buffy asked in her best little girl
voice. "I reeeally like bubbles and maybe a dash of my pretty Willow?"
"Only if you're very, very good," Willow purred teasingly. "Have you
been very good?"
They both laughed, shutting the door behind them with a loud slam. Giles
shook his head and chuckled, knowing the answer to Willow's question
without hearing it. He enjoyed the two young women's banter. It made him
feel as if there was hope left in the world as long as they had each
other.
Remembering his promise to Willow, he returned to his study and began
searching through his collection of ancient books and writings to see if
he could find any mention of the Romanian prophecies, this 'prince of
darkness' or any connection they might have with the Hellmouth.
His mind wandered back to his last conversation with Wesley... and how
strangely the nervous little man had sounded as he adamantly insisted
that Giles say nothing about the prophecy to either of his surrogate
daughters.
He only hoped the little twit wouldn't have apoplexy when he found out
he'd already told Willow.
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END 1
TBC ???
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Soo, what cha think continue or not?
Later
Alex
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