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Part 13
The house was unnaturally quiet. Although nearing silence at the best of times, today it seemed as though everything and everyone had been muted in a community of sorrow. The death of Edith Betts had prevented Myrddin from training Willow and Tara, so the two found that they actually had some time to themselves. Tara had commented that it was a bad way for them to get some time together; Willow had agreed quite readily, but they were grateful in a way to get some peace and rest from the intensity of the last few days of incantations and spells.
The redhead had hardly said a word since their return. By the time the group reached the house it was almost three in the morning and all they wanted to do was sleep. Shock had taken them into the arms of darkness and Willow and Tara had curled up with each other on the huge bed in Willow's room. Feeling her girlfriend's arms around her, Tara had nestled against the body that shivered slightly as the two witches kissed goodnight. They had gained some kind of comfort from one another, hardly believing what had taken place.
Although she had not known Edith Betts very long, Tara felt an emptiness open up inside of her. As she moved ever closer to Willow, sliding her arms around the smooth skin that was pliant beneath her touch, she closed her eyes and nestled her head into the shoulder that was pressed tight against her, hardly daring to breathe. The room was silent, the summer morning straining against the night to break the bonds of darkness. The violet sky hung heavy over the house, enthralling each creature into silence, including the two witches. Its funereal colour did not go unmissed, as Tara too succumbed to sleep, kissing Willow's skin just once before sighing and falling into the depths of slumber.
The next day, Tara had insisted that Willow accompany her for a walk through the gardens. The redhead had been silent throughout breakfast, picking aimlessly at a bowl of something that went by the name of cereal, although its resemblance to nutrition had been drowned by half a pint of milk. Turning her spoon around in the bowl, the only sound in the room that of clinking cutlery against pottery, Willow's eyes had met Tara's, blinking once in a sadness and fear that only the other witch could comprehend.
Taking her out into the sunshine had seemed the only answer, as they plunged deep into the thicket surrounding the lawn at the back of the Council headquarters. Holding Willow's hand, Tara led her towards the secret place where she and Faith had had that conversation. It seemed like a long time ago, even though it was only a couple of days. Everything seems to go slowly here, Tara thought, replaying the previous night's activities in her head, grimacing at the awful sight of Edith Betts falling to the ground and not getting up again. She also saw the triumphant face of Morgan Le Fay and shuddered. It wasn't finished yet, she knew that. In fact, it was only just beginning.
"Tara honey," Willow's face came from behind her as they battled through overgrown branches and twigs that snatched at their clothes, "Cute as it is that you want to sample the British countryside, couldn't we have found somewhere a little more…uh…walker friendly?"
Tara turned to flash her girlfriend a bright smile that belied her true feelings. "Will, you're gonna love this place, it's so great, I mean it's…" her voice trailed off as she broke the cover of the undergrowth and stood at the edge of the clearing. Willow didn't stop walking and bumped into her, letting out a sound of annoyance and surprise as their bodies collided.
"Tara! What's -"
"Sssh." Tara held up her hand, peering towards the stone seat where she had sat and drunk in nature's grandeur. Pushing her hair back from her face, she blinked and focused on the figure that was bent over on the stone seat.
Faith.
The dark Slayer was sitting hunched over on the bench, holding her hands to her stomach as though in great pain. Her hair fell forward to cover her face from the gaze of the two witches, but her shuddering shoulders and faint crying sounds left the girls in no doubt as to the cause of her stance. Faith was weeping.
"Oh my god," Willow whispered. "What's she doing?"
"She's upset." Tara hissed back, almost annoyed at the stupidity of Willow's habit of stating the obvious. Lines formed around her eyes as she frowned in pity and sympathy at the pathetic figure before them. She turned towards Willow and put her hands on the redhead's shoulders. "Listen Will, be gentle okay?"
"Me? I'm always gentle." Willow huffed, assuming an air of offence, although she could hardly take her eyes off the Slayer who was sniffing loudly in between sobs, unaware of their approach. Something inside her wanted to hate Faith so badly right now, to take pleasure in the pain that was streaming out of the dark haired girl. But in her own sorrow, she connected for a fleeting moment with that of the Slayer, wanting nothing more than to comfort and sooth. Confusion burst into her brain like a firework display, setting off firecrackers of worry around her thoughts. She too frowned, looking back at Tara, "Do you think we should leave her alone?" she asked fearfully, only too aware of Faith's defence mechanisms when it came to emotions.
"I think the last thing Faith wants, or ever wanted, was to be left alone." Tara said decisively, her voice tainted with a strong and confident manner that Willow found so attractive. She watched as her girlfriend strode into the clearing towards Faith, following her with apprehension.
"Faith?" Tara stopped a few feet short of the Slayer, her shadow falling over the girl's body as she leant over her knees.
Faith's head jerked upwards and she stared at Tara in amazement and wonder. Her eyes were red-rimmed, whether through the tears or lack of sleep the blonde witch could only guess at. She was still wearing the same clothes from last night, looking dishevelled and unkempt in her raw state. Her mouth fell open as her brown eyes widened and flickered between the two witches before resting on the ground in front of her. She sat back, rubbing at her eyes with the heel of her hand, sniffing loudly.
"Hey, what's up?" she attempted a jovial attitude that failed miserably as her voice trembled out of her lips. She pressed the two offending articles together tightly and sniffed again, this time rubbing at her nose.
"Well I was just going to ask you the same question." Tara sat down beside Faith, putting her arm affectionately around the other girl's shoulders. Faith jumped up as though Tara's touch had burned her and moved away from the bench. She caught gazes with Willow, aware that the redhead had not taken her eyes off her since they had arrived. Throwing a crooked trademark smile towards Willow, she coughed and reached into her jacket pocket for a pack of cigarettes, shaking one out and lighting it swiftly, inhaling deeply. She tried not to notice the hurt look that crossed across Tara's fine features, drawing them into creased lines of worry.
"Hey Red, come to gloat?" she swaggered, sucking on the cigarette, her eyes flashing defiance at Willow.
The redhead sat down beside Tara and lowered her gaze. She could never hope to break through that veneer that Faith adopted with her. It was inscrutable and hard, becoming more and more brittle and useless with every bad thing the girl thought or said or did. In past days, the distance had always suited Willow, it had pleased her to be set apart from Faith and her raging emotions that she kept so well hidden. But today, here, it saddened her so deeply she felt tears prick at the back of her throat. Lowering her eyes, she looked away around the clearing, blinking back the tears, focusing instead on the lush green that seemed to echo upwards to the treetops overhead.
"It's okay to cry, Faith." Tara said softly, her blue gaze never leaving the dark Slayer.
Faith shifted from foot to foot, sucking impatiently on her cigarette, a plume of smoke coming from her mouth and nose. "I wasn't crying, I got smoke in my eye," she gestured with the cigarette, her eyes darting anywhere but towards Tara.
"Well those things will kill you." Tara folded her arms and sat back on the seat, her lips drawing into a fine line of determination.
"Sure will, if I don't get there first," came Faith's reply. She barely got the words out before she gulped and turned her head away as fresh tears sprung to her eyes. "Dammit!" she cursed, throwing the half-smoked cigarette down on the ground and crushing the spark out of it with a thump of her boot. She walked a few paces away from the witches and looked up to the sky, her eyes glittering with pain. "I'm sure some wicked ass kind of Slayer aren't I?" she asked the trees that bent over her, listening intently. Her arms were thrown wide as she questioned the very nature of her existence, "Can't even drop some freaky witch these days." Her voice echoed with self-hatred that made Tara want to reach out and hold her tightly.
"It wasn't your fault, Faith." Tara said.
"No?" Faith turned, ignoring the hot salty drops that were rolling down her cheeks. "I didn't see no one else set to slay that bitch. That's what I was there for, protection." She paused, wiping her eyes on her sleeve, stepping forwards and back in agitation. "I couldn't even protect myself. I'm…I'm…" she searched for the words in her jumbled brain, failing to find the right way to express herself, "I'm useless. Maybe I should have stayed in jail, that's where I belong. That way no one's gonna get hurt by me." Her breath came harsh and heavy as she paced the same tiny patch of grass, the blades bending easily under her feet.
"You are not useless!" Tara held up her hand and her voice raised with emotion. "Faith, you did everything you could, no one could have asked for a greater commitment than what you gave last night. No one."
"Whatever," Faith shrugged off the compliment that Tara was offering, averting her eyes from the trusting gaze of the blonde witch. She reached into her pocket and lit another cigarette, directing her first exhalation of smoke towards the two witches.
"Look, Faith," Tara started again, "What happened last night was really bad, we're both upset over it, but you can't let it stop you just when you're doing so well." Her voice took on a pleading tone that tugged at Faith's heart, promising companionship and trust.
"Me? Doing well?" Faith let out a snort of laughter that was hollow and cold. She sucked hard on her cigarette again and threw a cursory glance at Willow, who was by now listening intently to the note of anguish in the Slayer's voice, her eyes wide with realisation. "Why don't you ask Red what she thinks about me? I guess she knows me a whole lot better than you do Tara." She turned on the spot, her confusion whirling her around in a full circle before she looked at the two witches again, her face contorted into a sneer of disgust directed only at herself. "Ain't that true, Red? What's that saying, a leopard can't change its spots?"
Willow gazed back at Faith, feeling the old intimidation rise up inside her, only to be quickly quelled by another feeling; pity. In all her months of hating Faith, she had never stopped to wonder what made her that way, had only given in to the deep seated mistrust and vilification her position as Buffy's best friend offered. Now she was looking at a different Slayer, she told herself, the old Faith seemed to have gone, leaving behind destruction as always. This time, it was the ravaged human spirit of a young Slayer that remained.
"Faith, you know you can't go on like this." Willow spoke for the first time, her voice reaching Faith's unhearing ears. The Slayer let out a breath of smoke, shaking her head to herself. "It's not right. I can see how you uh…" looking across at Tara she made contact with the other girl's eyes, their communication sure and true. Tara nodded slightly as she reached for Willow's hand, "…you know what you've done. But that's in the past. It's never too late to change you know," she sighed and closed her eyes, a memory of the past breaking into her consciousness, "And I know I once told you it was too late, but I was wrong. Last night you did something for us, for everyone. Now do something for yourself."
"I failed." Faith said bitterly, taking one last inhalation and then crushing her cigarette venomously underfoot as though it was the offence, not herself. "I tried and I failed." The next few words came out in abrupt gulps and half sentences as she fought the pressing tension in her throat, "She trusted me and I let her down. They all did. I let 'em all down. How can any of them trust me after that? I'm so sorry and no one seems to care…"
She could bear it no longer, her body crumbling under the strain of pretence. As she slumped to the ground, curling her arms around her midriff, the sobs that racked her body were the only sound that echoed around the clearing. Her whole body shook with years of pain and anxiety and loss. The emotion she had so long denied herself swept through her lithe body like a tidal wave; unstoppable and relentless. It drove her on to cry her heart out, wailing like the little child she was never allowed to be.
She didn't hear the footsteps as the two witches rose from their seat and came towards her. She didn't feel their presence as they bent down beside her, kneeling on the cool grass, shaded from the summer sun. She hardly heard the words of comfort that Tara whispered to her as an arm slid around her shoulders. But she did feel the hand on her hair, the familiar scent of a certain redhead and, raising her head at the unexpected touch, she saw the tears in Willow's eyes as the witch tried to hold out the hand of consolidation.
With trembling fingers, Faith took it and held on tight.
Part 14
By the time the three young girls returned to the house, they felt a change in the atmosphere of the place. Gone was the sombre air that had doused the Council; instead they noticed evidence of a bustling energy that took the house and made it live. Council employees passed them in the corridor they took to the other end of the building that led to Robert Merryvale's office. Young men, older men, all dressed in business suits that reflected a business the world could not comprehend, gave them cursory glances as they rushed past about their work. It seemed that something was happening, or about to happen. Faith led Willow and Tara down the corridor, her confidence returning as swiftly as it had departed. She held her head high and proud, her gait suppressing none of her swagger or ebullience. She was back and wanted the whole damn Council to know it.
Reaching the office where Merryvale resided most days, Faith kicked at it with her boot, flinging it open dramatically. Willow cast a wry smile towards Tara as they followed, receiving a placatory grin from her girlfriend. As they entered the dimmed room with its drapes half closed against the morning sunshine, the air was filled with smoke coming from the huge chair behind the desk directly in front of them. Merryvale puffed on his pipe, his reaction to their entry hardly registering on his solemn, puffed face. Sitting back in his chair, he viewed the young women in front of him with what seemed like irritation.
"This really isn't the time ladies," he began, his voice rumbling towards them. He was wearing a heavy brown suit that was already looking creased even at this early hour.
"Hey, this is exactly the time." Faith walked to the edge of his desk and leant her hands on it, her upper body reaching over the wooden expanse towards him. "We wanna know what's goin' on, and now seems like a real good time to spill." She stepped back, realising the intimidation on his face wouldn't get her anywhere. Instead, she stuck her hands into her pockets and shrugged towards Willow and Tara.
"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about. Obviously the events of last night have affected you. All of you," Merryvale said, his chair creaking under his vast weight as he shifted his position slightly. "Now if you'd like to resume your training, we can talk about this some other time."
"How about we talk now?" Faith's eyes glittered as she no longer disguised her dislike of him and everything he represented. "How about we discuss what the hell was going on last night and why we," she jerked her thumb at Willow and Tara, then back at herself, "didn't know our ass from our elbow when it came to the crunch?"
"Faith, please try to restrain yourself." A voice from the open doorway spun the Slayer around. Myrddin walked across the room and seated himself in a huge chair next to Merryvale's desk. He arranged his cloak around his knees, making sure he took his time. Faith was growing more agitated by the second and began to chew on her bottom lip as she watched him, testing her as always.
"Now then," Myrddin looked up at the three girls in front of him, "What is it you would like to know?"
Faith opened her mouth to speak, stepping forward again, but Tara placed her hand on the Slayer's arm, preventing her from letting forth another tirade. The blonde smiled gently at Faith, letting her know that this wasn't the time for rushing in her usual headstrong manner.
"We just want to know what last night was about," she said gently, her body shaking slightly as she realised that Merryvale and Myrddin were both fixing her with a very hard stare. "I mean…it was kinda odd…the whole Morgan Le Fay thing. No one told us it would be like that."
"No one told you because you had to find out for yourselves." Myrddin answered in a low voice, rubbing gently at his beard. "The test was precisely that."
"So the test is over?" Willow folded her arms in front of her, a look of confusion spreading over her face.
"No child," Myrddin half-smiled, "It's only just begun."
"See, that's what I don't understand." Faith moved to perch on the edge of Merryvale's desk, shoving aside a sheaf of papers, much to his chagrin. "You're testing us on something we don't know anything about. Yeah we've all heard of Morgan Le Fay, but you never told us it was gonna be like that, that we'd be up against her."
"Surely in your experience as a Slayer you must have had surprises." Merryvale rumbled at her, his eyes cold and hard as they roamed over her. He sucked on his pipe, finding that he had to light it again. Smoke soon rose from the bowl as he held a flame over the tobacco in it. "I thought Slayers were supposed to be prepared in that particular respect."
Faith failed to miss the sarcasm in his voice, the implicit criticism he threw at her. She stood up, facing him, her hands placed firmly on her hips. Her eyes blurred to a darker hue as she struggled to maintain control, whilst her jaw jutted out in anger. "Yeah well I guess no one's ever prepared for death are they? Did you say the same thing to Mrs Betts?"
Her words cut into Merryvale like a sharp knife, he recoiled visibly, pressing himself back into his chair, which strained under him, moaning loudly at his shifting weight. He let out a cough that dismissed Faith's comment, deflecting it away from his own responsibility as he always did. His eyes flicked nervously across to Myrddin, hoping for answers.
The wizard clasped his hands together in his lap, drawing in a deep breath before he spoke. The tension in the room rose almost visibly.
"Faith, Willow, Tara, the only reason we never gave you the full details of the situation is because we never expected it to go so far. Morgan Le Fay is an old enemy of the Council, even in my day. She is evil of the greatest kind, relentless in her quest for ultimate power. Some years ago, myself, Edith, another witch and the Slayer managed to bind Le Fay and control her. It appeared a few months ago that she had broken this binding, that she had risen again to threaten us all. Edith was a part of that spell, as she was last night."
"So why didn't it work last night?" Willow frowned at him, trying not to think of the lifeless body that had seemed so virile and energetic only days ago.
Myrddin glanced at her before his gaze drifted away around the room. "It didn't work last night because Edith broke the circle. Before we could cast the spell, she helped Faith, as was her wont to do. Losing emotional control is the end for a witch," he eyed Willow and Tara for a long moment, "She let her feelings come before the spell. That's why she died. Le Fay has no such feelings, no humanity. Any shred of her human self was gone years ago. She will not stop. Her point of advantage was to attack Edith in her human vulnerability."
"She died because of me." Faith whispered, her blank stare fixed on a point far away, her mind replaying images from the previous night.
"Child, we are all responsible for our own choices." Myrddin looked at her benevolently, "Edith made her own choice last night. It was what she wanted to do."
Faith shook her head speechlessly, wondering at the selfless sacrifice that was only just manifesting itself in her mind now. She looked at Willow and Tara, mouth open in shock. She had thought as much in the moment she half remembered Edith pushing her aside to take the full blow of Le Fay's power, only she had been too weak to protest, or do anything about it. And now it was clear to her; Edith Betts had sacrificed herself for Faith, given up her own life to save the Slayer. Guilt, gratitude and a hundred other emotions ripped through Faith like a thunderbolt, echoing away to leaver her ears and mind ringing with its voracity.
"So what do we do now?" Willow said tremulously.
Myrddin looked across at Merryvale, who sighed, rolling his eyes and returned to puffing on his pipe, absolving himself of the duty. The wizard slid his gaze back to the three young women in front of him. He stroked his beard, wondering if he would ever see their like again, so determined, so powerful together. Truly strength came in numbers, in the right numbers, he told himself.
"We must face Le Fay in the cavern beneath the Edge," he said simply, "It's the only place left for her to go."
"Cavern? What cavern?" Faith was nonplussed as she frowned across at Myrddin. "Can't we just kick her ass on the Edge again?"
"No, child." Myrddin leant forward slightly, "The true test you must all undertake was always going to be the cavern. A centre of true magick and mysticism. There you will find Le Fay. There you must defeat her."
"Or what?" Faith's voice came to him, full of passion for revenge.
"Or she'll take Arthur and his knights and the eternal battle of good and evil will be over." Myrddin answered her, his voice sounding loud in the quiet of the room.
Tara turned to Willow and shared a glance with her before biting at her bottom lip and looking more than a little confused. "Wait a minute," she said, "Arthur? Isn't he…well, isn't he dead?"
Merryvale let out a snort of laughter that irritated Willow greatly on Tara's behalf. She shot the huge man a distinctly unpleasant look before turning back towards Myrddin who had a rather more benevolent smile on his face.
"Arthur is asleep, along with his knights, buried deep beneath the Edge," the wizard told them, "He can never wake until the country is in dire need. To date, we have never needed him, but his strength and purity offer a security to the magick surrounding him. If it is destroyed…" The wizard shook his head, pulling at his beard once more, not wishing to say what he knew to be an impending truth.
"Suffice to say, you must complete the task in order for the status quo to be resumed." Merryvale rumbled at them. "That's what you're here for. That's your test."
"Couldn't we just take the written? I mean, I never did like practical so much." Willow blurted nervously, eliciting a smile from Tara as the blonde witch moved to take her hand in comfort.
"It's a choice for you all," Myrddin told them, standing up and moving towards the doorway. "Only you can decide what you feel you must do." His eyes rested on each girl in turn before he turned, his cloak swishing on the floor and exited.
A silence fell over the group, who gazed down at the floor. Willow felt the pressure of Tara's warm fingers on her own and squeezed back, almost absent-mindedly. The enormity of the task hung heavily on their shoulders, sagging them with an invisible weight. As the seconds ticked by, each young woman tried to comprehend the words of the wizard. It was Faith who eventually broke the silence.
"Well I don't know about you guys," she directed her words to Willow and Tara, "but I'm ready to get this thing done. For Mrs Betts."
She turned on her heel and stalked out of the room, followed quickly by the two witches. Merryvale watched them leave, a self-satisfied smile spreading across his lips. He waited until they were out of earshot, then picked up the telephone on his desk, punching in several digits with a plump finger. He tapped his pipe on the edge of the marble ashtray in front of him, waiting impatiently until the receiver at the other end of the line was picked up.
"Morris?" he barked, his imperious nature returning now he was no longer faced with a Slayer and two of the most powerful witches he'd ever seen. "It's Merryvale." He paused as Morris said something to him, then nodded to a blind audience, "That's right. They're ready."
Part 15
"Are you scared?" Willow asked Faith as they followed her down the corridor, both witches almost running to keep up with the strident pace the Slayer was setting. She realised that the mere fact that she and Tara had gone with Faith from Merryvale's office was tantamount to accepting the task. Much as it had surprised her at the time, siding with Faith like that, some warm glow deep in the pit of her stomach had confirmed to her that it was the right thing to do. And now here she was, following another Slayer, in another place, but still pledging herself to the fight for good in whatever capacity.
Faith stopped abruptly, turning to face the redhead. The two witches were almost alarmed at the expression on her face, her brows drawn together over dark eyes that echoed traces of the strong emotion she had felt in the office only minutes ago. The Slayer reached out and touched Willow on the shoulder.
"Hey, you two don't have to…I mean, if you don't wanna…" Her attempts at a conciliatory nature were almost comical.
"We do." Tara butted in, her voice quickly changing from haste to apology as she glanced across at Willow, "I mean, I do anyway."
"Oh me too. I'm not letting you guys have all the fun." Willow added, smiling at her girlfriend. "Not that it's gonna be much like fun," her face dropped as she remembered the evocative powers of Morgan Le Fay, "More like a big fight with a scary witch woman who really isn't that nice…"
"Thanks." Faith said softly, her voice almost cracking over the gratitude she felt. "And yeah, I'm scared. Wicked scared." She took a step back from them and shrugged. "But hey, I gotta do what a Slayer's gotta do and all that." A grin curved her lips as she looked from witch to witch. "So I gotta go and…"
She gestured vaguely behind her with a thumb. "Sure." Tara nodded, watching as the Slayer walked away from them. "Oh, Faith?"
The dark haired girl turned and faced them again, raising her eyebrows in quizzical interest.
"You were great in there." Tara said gently, watching in delight as a flush rose over Faith's neck, reaching up towards her face. The Slayer turned her back on them abruptly so they couldn't see her delight at the compliment and wandered off, muttering to herself about 'damn witches' until she turned the corner at the end of the corridor.
Tara turned from the window in Willow's room to look at her girlfriend where she laid reading on the bed. A glow spread over her heart as she took in the fine features and deep green eyes that were flicking over a book so fast she couldn't follow them. The redhead had changed into her favourite holiday outfit, a bright red flowing skirt and a white cotton peasant top. She had bought them with Tara on a shopping trip before they had ever thought about coming to England, promising her girlfriend that she would save them for a special occasion. Now seemed like that occasion. So Willow had obligingly put them on when Tara had held the clothes up in front of her, offering no resistance in the gravity of the situation. Tara herself was dressed in a smoky grey; a colour she knew Willow loved on her. Their relationship still delighted in their pleasing one another; it thrived on their mutual love and pleasure, taking its rewards in the fruits born of a deep respect and admiration.
Walking over to the bed, Tara lay beside Willow, breathing the scent of her girlfriend in comfort and trust. She loved just being near Willow, her proximity gave Tara's heart cause to beat harder, to love faster. Without even looking, the redhead reached out with one hand and began to play with the golden strands of Tara's hair as the blonde laid her head in her girlfriend's lap.
"Mmmm, that's nice." Tara murmured, closing her eyes as Willow's fingers stroked and teased the silken hair beneath her touch.
"For me too." Willow nodded, her eyes never leaving the page that her other hand held up in front of her.
"I'm glad you and Faith are okay." Tara said, resting one of her hands on Willow's thigh. "I'm really proud of the way you were so nice to her."
"Well even I can see that she's changed I guess." Willow paused for a second, dropping the book down so that she could look at the paled face of the woman she loved. "I mean, she is different. In a good way I guess. It's like she's given in to being…oh I don't know…" She shook her head and pursed her lips, her eyes narrowing somewhat. "It's like she's gone all human on me." Her red hair swung around her face as she shook her head again and shrugged. The book returned to its position in front of her face as she resumed reading.
"Don't give up on her." Tara pleaded, her hand stroking the length of Willow's leg from the top of her thigh down to where her head lay, then back up again. "She needs to feel like we need her, then she can stop beating herself up about everything." She held up her hand as Willow dropped the book again, taking a breath to butt in. "I know she's done bad things Willow, but she's really sorry. I truly believe that. Give her time. She is trying, she really is."
A smile bent the redhead's lips as she gazed down at her girlfriend with unadulterated admiration. "I'm the one who takes psyche and you're the one who knows all the inner workings of the human mind," she grinned. "You're amazing."
Despite herself, Tara blushed and ran her hands up and down Willow's thigh again, feeling the redhead shift imperceptibly on the bed as a wave of desire lapped at her. The blonde witch grinned back, "Well you're pretty amazing too, learning to live with her at least, even if you can't forgive her." She paused for a second before blurting, "Which I totally understand, I mean, she hurt you and that's not good. But I guess I just see her differently from you, it's like I saw the real her."
"Just like you saw the real me?" Willow nodded, closing her book and placing it on the bedside table. The fingers of her other hand now entwined themselves in Tara's hair. She couldn't take her eyes off the full lips of her girlfriend, watching them curve and smile back at her as she sighed at her touch.
"I've always seen the real you, it just took me a while to meet you." Tara grinned almost foolishly, "I felt like, all my life, I was waiting for someone like you to come along and love me." She closed her eyes briefly and pursed her lips together, thinking hard, before two bright pools of blue swallowed Willow whole in their glistening depths. "You know, I've always wanted to belong and I guess, well, I thought this whole Council thing offered me the opportunity to be a part of something greater than myself. But," she sighed again, "I'm just starting to realise that I do belong. I always did. I was meant to be with you. Wherever, whenever and however that might be. It's just right, you know?"
Willow felt a joy sweep through her body and quiver uncontrollably at her heart. All her recent fears about Tara and their connection disappeared in a blinding flash of realisation that this was the most real thing she had ever known. She agreed with Tara. It was just right.
For a moment the two girls gazed at each other, before Tara sat up and pushed her face close to Willow's, breathing her in for lingering second before their lips met in a single, delicious kiss. It had been so long that Willow felt she had never kissed Tara this way before, the memory of their stolen moments glaringly clear inside her head. Every backward glance, every hidden caress, each secretive kiss replayed danced through her memory as she felt passion rear up in the depths of her stomach, hurtling towards her throat and her heart.
Tara drew back, her lips moistened by the embrace. "Wow," she grinned.
"I know," Willow almost blushed and giggled.
The blonde witch laid back on the bed, pulling the redhead down beside her, their hands linking, fingers stroking and falling, tumbling against one another. Both girls looked up at the canopy over the bed, shadowing the frame from the light trickling in through the window. A smile that started on Tara's lips flowed itself over Willow's mouth.
"So this thing tonight, it's gonna be pretty tough," Willow said in a small voice, hardly daring to look across at the agreement in Tara's eyes.
"It is." Tara said, before turning to lean over Willow. She traced a line down the redhead's cheek with a finger before sighing. "And you know, whatever happens, I'm right there with you. You know it's better for us together, magick wise."
"I know." Willow felt a frown burrow into her forehead. "This is kinda scary don't you think? I mean, after what she did to Mrs Betts…" A shiver ran through her body. "There's so much out there; so much evil. Sometimes I wonder if we really make a difference at all."
"Hey," Tara snuggled even closer. "You know we do. Besides, we're such great witches, I'd like to see the evil that could break us apart."
Despite herself, Willow grinned and leant upwards to kiss her girlfriend on her full lips. Hearing the sound of mutual acquiescence and passion that her touch elicited, she pulled back, a cheeky glint entering her eyes.
"So how much time do we have before we go and do our thing?" she wondered aloud.
"Willow!" Tara feigned shock, but placed another kiss between them for a brief moment.
"Or maybe you're thinking that we shouldn't use up so much energy?" Willow teased, her hand sliding down Tara's arm then back up again to her shoulder, finding that spot at the base of her neck that made the blonde quiver in delight.
"Actually, I was kinda thinking to hell with that idea." Tara giggled, before pushing herself down into the redhead's embrace.
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Part 16
Faith paced the ground in front of the cavern, her eyes flicking nervously towards Myrddin and the two witches as they prepared themselves for their ritual. Dusk had pulled a shadowy veil over their huddled features, casting long tendrils of darkness from their figures. The dark Slayer felt her heart beating in anticipation of tonight. She had given herself a workout earlier on that day, stopping by Myrddin to complete a rigorous meditation session, as she always had since the Council had claimed her. When Myrddin had first suggested she try to find her inner calm, Faith had barked with laughter, replying that calm wasn't a thing she'd ever been on speaking terms with, inner or outer.
However, as she walked up and down, chewing on her bottom lip, a rise of anticipation was quelled by a fatalistic knowledge that this was her time. It was her moment to prove herself to Myrddin, the Council, Willow, Tara, but most of all, to her own sense of worthlessness. She pushed a flickering image of Edith Betts to the back of her mind, knowing that tonight, weakness could simply not be allowed to crack the shell of her strength.
Myrddin turned and walked towards her, followed by a rather grim looking Willow and Tara. He offered a small smile of benevolence, almost completely hidden beneath his flowing beard and stood beside her as she gazed at the yawning cavern mouth, its blackness threatening to swallow her whole.
"If we are all ready." His voice held a note of peace that the three young women tried to savour, but failed somehow, tiny looks of apprehension darting between them like fireflies. As he turned his cloaked back on them, moving towards the cavern mouth, Tara leant over to Faith, laying her hand on the Slayer's arm.
"You okay?" she asked.
Faith gave a curt nod, her eyes fixed on the wizard who was raising his hands and muttering beneath his breath, eyes closed and concentrated.
"Five by five." Her answer wasn't nearly enough for Tara, but it seemed that it was all she was likely to get at this moment. The blonde witch moved back, her hand reaching instinctively for Willow's as Myrddin completed his spell.
The air in front of the cavern shimmered like a lake reflected on a summer's day, some otherworldly gravitational pull distorting the nothingness in front of their eyes. As the girls watched, a pair of huge wrought iron gates appeared, their size and fashion looking incongruous in the wooded surroundings.
"The cave is guarded by magick." Myrddin spoke without looking back. "But she knows that." He waved his hand in a semi-circular motion and the gates swung open silently. "Let all who enter be pure of heart and mind. Let those who seek the truth find it. Let the ones who save be saved themselves." His words enveloped Faith, Willow and Tara in a sparkling second of mystical energy before he motioned for them to follow him and stepped through the gateway.
The only sound in the darkness was that of feet stepping and slipping on the mossed tunnel. Faith walked behind Willow and Tara as they followed Myrddin down seemingly endless pathways, veering to the left and turning sharply to the right. It was a good few minutes before a pinprick of whiteness came into vision, gleaming way down at the end of their present course.
The light grew larger and brighter as they walked towards it. When Myrddin stopped, it was at the edge of a vast cavern that opened out in front of them. Willow let her eyes follow the stone upwards, to where it arched over their heads, its solidity repeating every whisper, every breath they took. She let her gaze drift up to the roof of the cavern, seeing light curl itself around smoothed stalactites that pointed down to their intrusion.
She looked down into the cavern as the ground sloped away from their feet, seeing the source of the light, her jaw falling open, as did Tara's. Symmetrical blocks of stone lined the cavern floor, each occupied by an armoured body. The metal glittered as magick breathed immortality into each figure, the only indication of life a slow rising and falling as the Knights of the Round Table breathed each century in and out in a continuous sleep.
Beside each knight lay a sword; the handles jewelled with stones all the colours of the rainbow, their refractive surfaces throwing pigmented patterns onto the silver-white armour. Helmets may have covered their faces and metal may have covered their hearts, but it was true, Willow thought to herself, they really were pure of spirit, destined to lie here until they awoke to fight again.
The stone blocks on which they lay were surrounded with chests that were overflowing with gold, riches, jewels and precious objects. Any antique dealer would have thought they had reached heaven if they had seen the ruby encrusted goblets, the wide silver platters and medieval treasures that lay on the ground as offerings to the majesty.
Each knight was placed next to a grey mare; the muscles of each horse rippling underneath iridescent skin as the animals accompanied their masters in sleep. It was like looking at a picture, only, Willow felt, rather than knew, that if she had run her hand along the nearest mare's flank, she would have felt the dusty warmth of a breathing creature.
"We don't have much time." Myrddin broke into their thoughts as he stepped cautiously down rough-hewn steps towards the centre of the cavern. That was where Arthur himself slept. A larger stone block than the rest was the eye-catching showpiece of the whole collection. The block was laid over with a marble slab, the figure on it dressed in golden armour bearing the coat of arms emblazoned on the breastplate. Arthur's face was naked to the air, his golden beard and hair flowing freely over the marble beneath it. On his head lay the crown that signified his position and power, each point of the crown decorated with an emerald; flawless and true like his heart.
Following Myrddin towards three blocks of stone that made an altar, Willow and Tara almost tiptoed past the sleeping knights. Faith sauntered almost casually past Arthur, her eyes dropping downwards to feast on the bejewelled sword by his side. It was bigger and broader than all the others, it captured the magick of the cavern and threw it back out again, almost humming with a power unlike any Faith had ever felt before. Her hand reached out to touch it, feeling the vibrations run up her arm, prickling goose bumps along her flesh.
"Faith!" Myrddin barked from the altar, without even looking at her.
She pulled her arm back as though burnt, sighed and made her way to where the others stood on the darker side of the heavy plinth. The further she got from the knights, the colder the cavern seemed. When she reached the altar and stood beside Willow and Tara, she noticed that their breaths were making misted clouds every time they exhaled.
Willow shivered, despite the heavy jacket she had thrown over her outfit. She couldn't help but notice the way Myrddin's eyes were constantly sweeping the room. He knew that danger was close at hand. A nagging feeling in her gut affirmed his worries. Somehow…just somehow, the redhead was aware of a presence that reeked of malevolence. It was as real and as cold as the chill of the cave that was settling on her face, icy fingers stroking at her cheeks.
A warm hand slid around her shoulders, snaking the arm over her coldness. Turning, she saw Tara beside her, as it had always meant to be. Knowing her closeness represented more than a physical presence, a glow swept through Willow's heart, reminding her that she was never completely alone in this world. Not any more.
Returning the smile, Willow soon busied herself in helping Myrddin light candles in a circle on the altar. He had explained that by repeating the binding spell here in the cavern, its potency would be increased a hundred fold. The two witches joined hands with Myrddin as they called up the four elements again for protection.
Faith watched them, slightly bored. That protection crap was a joke, she told herself grimly, it sure didn't work with Mrs Betts. Again her eyes wandered towards the sword lying beside Arthur. Now that's a blade, she thought to herself, almost absent-mindedly, what I couldn't do with a knife like that… She was almost lost in her thoughts when a slight movement from the other side of the cavern caught her Slayer instincts. Alerted, she tensed instantly, with good reason, as she watched a swish of deep purple move between the blocks of stone.
Morgan Le Fay moved towards the trio at the altar, her feet making no sound on the stone floor. It seemed as though she was gliding across the ground, like a dark angel of evil, her pretty face contorted by a rage and intensity that send a chill of fear down even Faith's spine.
"It won't do any good." Her voice rang clear in the echoing cave, as Willow, Tara and Myrddin looked up in surprise at her impending arrival. "I have already tasted the magick of the cave, I'm stronger than before, I live in immortality like they do," she cast a cursory hand around behind her at the sleeping figures in their shining armour. "And there's nothing you can do to stop me, old man," she spat out at Myrddin.
"Maybe not him, but I'm willing to bet I can have a good go." Faith stepped up beside Le Fay and pulled her arm back to deliver a crushing fist into the sorceress' face.
Le Fay pursed her lips in annoyance and lifted her hand. A bolt of energy shot from her palm and catapulted Faith backwards against the cavern wall, the Slayer feeling the air pushed from her body as her back slammed into hard rock. Her skull cracked loudly as her head took the full force of the hit. Slumping to the ground, Faith fought to keep her eyes open as her vision swam dizzily before her.
"Damn," she gasped, holding a hand to the back of her head, getting to her feet and swaying dangerously from side to side.
"No Slayer can defeat me," Le Fay's words dripped like icicles onto the heart of Faith's wounded body, "Not before, not now." She smiled, her red lips curving into a bow that was sure to deliver a fatal bolt. "Perhaps when I kill you, you'll remember that."
Faith staggered towards her, the tall figure in her purple garb flexing into two, then back to one image in her throbbing line of vision. Breathing hard and feeling the pain surge through her body, the dark Slayer knew there was only one course of action. Only one option. Fight to the death. It was what she had been born for. She took a deep breath, drinking in some of the magick of the circle of light that had appeared around Willow, Tara and Myrddin and dived at Le Fay.
Tumbling to the ground, the sorceress let out a cry of despair and anger as the Slayer became entangled in her swathing cloak. The two of them skidded across the floor to the foot of the stone bed where Arthur lay. Faith managed to get in a couple of well-aimed punches at Le Fay before the woman regained her strength and pushed the girl aside as though she was a rag doll.
Myrddin's grasp on Willow and Tara's hands tightened as he took them through the spell, reciting the old incantation without emotion. The two witches were transfixed by the power of Le Fay as she stood and walked once more towards them.
"We have to help her!" Tara gasped, looking towards Myrddin, her eyes wide and fearful.
"We have to complete the spell." Myrddin said shortly, his eyes never moving from the candles in front of him. "Nothing else matters."
"But she's…" Tara began, almost pulling her hand away from his.
He fixed his gaze on her, for a second his piercing gaze looking deep into the heart of her. "The spell, child," he said in a low voice, "It's the only way."
Faith had got to her feet again, this time a thin trickle of blood working its way down her forehead. She brushed at it with her fingertips, gazing at them as they came away crimson and stained. Her face assumed a look of pure confusion. For the first time in her life, she was powerless to defend herself against a physical force more than her own. Rushing at the back of Le Fay, she found herself flying through the air once more as the sorceress turned and looked down at her, writhing on the floor in a pain unlike she'd ever experienced.
"You really are quite a Slayer aren't you?" Le Fay's voice was amused as her darkened eyes bore into Faith's head, two channels of pure evil. "When will you learn it's useless to try and defeat me?" She lifted her hand and a low rumbling came from the sides of the cavern.
As Faith's head whipped from side to side in horror, she watched as the sides of the cave moved and came alive, two demonic creatures forming themselves from rock, dust flying from their feet as they lumbered towards her. Scrambling to her knees, Faith found herself surrounded by them as they bent over her.
She blocked one huge granite arm with a parry as they began to attack. Spinning around she delivered a kick to the chest of one of the demons, watching in some delight as it staggered backwards. Her pleasure didn't last long as the other grabbed her around the waist, lifting her off the ground. Its arms squeezed hard, the sharp edges of the stone snagging at her jacket. Faith felt the air being pushed out of her lungs as her ribs literally cracked under the strain. Thrashing wildly, she kicked out with her legs, catching the second demon unawares, sending it crashing to the ground. As it hit the cavern floor, a crumbling cascade of shale and rock scattered across the smooth stone. The demon appeared momentarily stunned; it's counterpart rocking from side to side under the sheer force of Faith's movement.
Grabbing onto its arm around her waist, Faith heaved with all of her might, her hands slipping on the stone limb, her palms streaked with blood from the jagged edge of the hand on her body. Despite the pain that was shooting up and down her arm from the cuts she saw opening on her skin, she pulled harder, loosening the grip enough to slip to the ground.
She glanced across at Myrddin and the two witches, all muttering words of an incantation that somehow seemed less important than the dark clad figure striding towards them. Aware in her peripheral vision that the two monsters were again crowding towards her, Faith backed up until her body hit stone. The slab that Arthur was occupying cooled her through her jacket. She slid up it, watching in desperation as the rock demons came ever closer, her hands scrabbling beside her until they hit smooth metal.
The sword. His sword. Excalibur.
Without a second thought it was in Faith's grasp. The weight of it pulled at her muscles, straining them merely to keep it aloft. She swung it in front of her, the tip swooshing close to the rock demons. Another swing and she caught one of the demons full in the shoulder. She watched in a suspended moment as his limb shattered instantly, sending dust and gravel spinning around her, covering her jacket with grey particles.
Faith looked down at the glinting metal blade in her hands. "Wicked cool." A grin spread across her mouth as she thrust the blade into the heart of the demon, barely registering his explosion into nothingness as she turned on the other, who was lumbering towards her, his arms outstretched like a parody of Frankenstein. Pushing the blade into him, he disappeared in front of her, the air suddenly filled with a cloud of smoke and dust.
Shifting the weight of the broadsword from arm to arm, Faith looked up to the altar, to where Morgan Le Fay was approaching Willow, Tara and Myrddin. A look of grim determination flickered over the Slayer's dusted features as she tried to ignore the aching in her shoulders and back from the exertion of the fight. Fixing her eyes on the tall figure in purple, the dark haired girl moved forward with only one thing on her mind.
Willow was aware of Morgan Le Fay's presence, like a dark whirling cloud in her mind, whispering her name over and over again. Trying to ignore it was like walking against a strong wind. It tugged at her mind, grasped the essence of it and rolled it over and over in the heady mix of danger and seduction. A bead of sweat appeared on the redhead's forehead and rolled down between her eyes as she tried to join in with the incantation, her words tumbling over one another as she lost the rhythm. It was only a moment later that nothing came from her parted lips at all, as Le Fay smiled at her and won her.
Tara felt Willow fall away from her grasp a second before the redhead released her hold on her hand. Seemingly in a trance, Willow took a step back from Tara and Myrddin, breaking the bond, the circle of light that had surrounded them flickering dangerously and losing all continuum.
Gasping, the blonde witch turned to see Willow falling back against the wall of the cavern behind them, her hands spread wide on the cooled rock, her eyes closing in supplication to the sorceress that was reaching out for her with pale hands.
"Return!" Myrddin's voice came into Tara's head, clear and strong. His eyes sought hers and found them. He motioned with his gaze towards the sacrificial cup that was shimmering in the magick they held in their hands. "Return from whence thy came!" he said again, his hand squeezing Tara's until it felt as though his fingers were biting through her flesh.
"Poor child." Morgan Le Fay bent over Willow, a finger trailing down the redhead's cheek as she struggled to break the spell the sorceress was wafting over her like a summer breeze. The look in the woman's eyes was pure darkness, lilting like her voice, soothing as a caress. "How you must struggle against it, poor dear." Le Fay smiled gently, although her lips parted to reveal hardened teeth set in a grimace that shot pangs of fear throughout Willow's body. "Let me take it from you, all of it. All that pain and sorrow, that constant battle, give it to me." Hands that touched her burned through clothes. Willow felt only a sinking feeling and a yawning pit of darkness as Le Fay leant forward and drank her energy, the blue essence trailing from Willow's body towards that of the sorceress, making her strong, making her live, winding its way out of the weakened Wicca into the heart of evil like a blazoned trail of light.
"Tara…" Willow whispered, sinking back against the rock behind her, barely feeling its solidity.
"Willow." Tara said suddenly, ceasing her repetition of the incantation. She looked across at Myrddin and blinked, feeling as though she had suddenly woken up.
"No child." Myrddin pulled her towards the altar, trying to turn her away from the girl behind her.
For the first time, the confusion cleared. Tara saw everything in clarity. The sharpness of her feelings stung into her, opening up her eyes to all that was around her. Everything that mattered jumped into place in one second, pushing her from the wizard's grasp, wrenching her hand from his, breaking the circle of light that dissipated into the ether around them.
"No child!" Myrddin shouted, defeat bowing him into anger that stormed through his eyes and across his aged features.
"Leave her alone!" Tara turned to see Le Fay holding Willow up, her arm underneath the redhead's. The girl looked like a limp rag doll, suspended against the sorceress, weakness plying her with dulled movements. Tara's eyes sought Willow's and met them, for a brief moment seeing sorrow and shame in the green orbs she had come to know so well.
Morgan Le Fay looked across at Tara with what seemed like surprise. "Leave her alone?" she laughed, a dry brittle sound that echoed with shades of triumph. "You're not in a position to give orders, my child." She leaned in closer to Willow, breathing in her hair like a lover, "One more breath from me and she won't be anything any more. I have her energy inside me." Another smile split the lips that curved the empty beauty of her face, "I can taste it," she whispered.
"Yeah?" A familiar voice behind her dragged the smile from her lips. "Why don't you get your hands off of my friend and try tasting this." Faith added, plunging the sword into Le Fay, pushing it in up to the hilt with her eyes closed. She turned her head as Le Fay pushed Willow away from her, the redhead hitting the ground and lying still. A scream unlike any earthly sound ripped itself from Le Fay's mouth, her arms flung up and outstretched. The tip of the sword exited through her chest and pushed her purple garment out, like some vile pregnancy, finally giving birth to the silver blade that cut its way out of her clothes.
Le Fay's scream continued to echo around the cavern, causing Tara to put her hands over her ears to keep the shrill, pitiful cry out. The sorceress fixed her with a glazed stare as light shone from the sword. She began to tremble as the light grew, pulling apart her body as though it were a jigsaw, dissembling it piece by piece. The whiteness spread itself around her, into her, beneath her, surrounding her with such brightness that Faith and Tara had to turn away, dropping to their knees as a low rumbling filled the cavern. The ground beneath them shook as Le Fay gave one final gasping look upwards, her face working itself into an expression of fear before the light finally swallowed her whole.
Excalibur clattered to the floor, its blade ringing out once in the echoing cavern. Light gleamed once down the length of the blade then back again to the jewelled hilt before the sound died away into the silence that claimed all the occupants of the cave.
Part 17
Sitting in Merryvale's office, Faith, Willow and Tara felt as though they had been summoned to see the Principal. No one had spoken to them since Le Fay's demise and the three girls were shocked into a muted whisper by their experience. Faith herself had been unusually quiet, sobered by the fact that Willow had almost died. Aggrieved by the feelings of fierce protection she had felt towards the girl, she had tried to accept Willow's thanks gracefully when the girl had leant against her as they came out of the cavern, but instead ended up telling Willow not to talk, that she needed rest. Tara's tear filled eyes had thanked her enough already. And, although she hardly dared admit it to herself, it felt really good. Really kinda good.
The three girls sat on high-backed chairs opposite Merryvale's desk, watching as he shuffled some papers around, his eyes occasionally flicking up towards them, then back down to the notes that were neatly typed in regimented rows on the white paper in front of him.
It was only when Mryddin entered the room that he stopped moving the sheets of paper around and sat up in his chair, preferring to look at the wizard as he sat down rather than at the three girls in front of him.
Myddin's face showed no emotion, instead he merely glanced at Willow, Faith and Tara as he pulled his cloak around his knees and stroked almost absent-mindedly at his beard.
"Well then," Merryvale rumbled across towards them, "Quite a show you put on last night." A grim smile spread across his fleshy lips as he reached for his pipe and began pushing tobacco into the bowl. Leaning back on his chair, the springs strained and creaked as he nodded to himself. "Yes, quite a show," he said to himself.
"A dangerous one." Myrddin added, his gaze drifting towards Tara. She shrank under his eyes, knowing that he was still angry with her for breaking the spell. He had hardly said two words to her all the way back from Alderley Edge, indeed, his mouth had been drawn into a tight line of disapproval that she could see was still pulled across his features even now.
"What?" Faith jumped in, folding her arms across her chest, "We did what you guys wanted, we got rid of Morgan Le Fay. And I got this for my trouble." She held up her right hand, which was bandaged and bulky, brandishing it like a war wound. "The least you guys could say is thanks."
"Oh we are grateful, indeed we are." Merryvale grimaced at her in what passed for a smile of condescension. "You performed above and beyond what we ever expected."
"Performed?" Faith echoed, her brows drawing together over her dark eyes, which were fast flashing with an anger that gnawed at her gut. "You treat it like it's some kinda game or somethin'. She," she jabbed a thumb towards Willow on her left, "almost died last night. An' I ain't never been set on by things like those rock demons. I mean, what kinda set up are you, that you can't even protect your own?" Her voice was hard-edged and resentful. Merryvale shifted nervously in his chair, feeling her waves of anger wash over him.
"We never said the test would be easy. It was designed to push you to your limits, to set you on the path to righteousness…" Myrddin began, but Faith held up her hand and cut him off, mid flow.
"Sure, sure," she nodded curtly, "At the same time you almost killed us. Some great kinda test huh?"
"Faith," Myrddin said, not unkindly, but with a note of warning in his voice, "You knew as well as I did that your path was the hardest to follow. The seduction of you was Le Fay's greatest card to play. There was always the chance you would follow her, as you did Mayor Wilkins," he watched as Faith shuddered at the memory of past wrongs. "But you proved worthy."
"You know that for sure? Hey, I was just takin' care of business." Faith said off-handedly, her eyes flickering down to the ground. Next to her, she felt Willow cast a warm gaze in her direction. She kept her gaze fixed firmly downwards; anything was better than having to deal with gratitude. She thought that earning it had been hard, but accepting it was proving a much thornier task.
"Faith," Myrddin leant forward on his chair, "You fought with the sword of truth and justice. Excalibur doesn't just fly into anyone's hands you know, it's a power of purity. And it chose you."
"So I improvised, I just thought it was the right thing to do at the time." Faith shrugged, mumbling her words almost to herself. "I'm a Slayer, it's what we do," she added, her eyes seeking approval from Myrddin.
He nodded in her direction, almost smiling paternally at her retribution that came harder than the trial she had undergone. The smile left his face as he turned to Willow and Tara, knowing that what they had to hear would strike as deep and clean as Excalibur had through Le Fay.
"You performed well, there's no doubt about that," he ventured, leaning back in his chair, smoothing his hands down over his cloak.
Willow frowned, her brow furrowing in confusion as she glanced across at Tara on her left. The blonde witch returned her feelings with an equally perplexed look. The redhead pushed at a strand of hair that was making its way across her forehead and shook her head. "But, we…I mean…we didn't complete the spell!" she said, "We failed to bind Morgan Le Fay, I mean, she went all soul-greedy on me and I was useless…" she looked down as she clasped her hands together in her lap, twisting her fingers together agitatedly, "I was the one who let everyone down."
"Not exactly." Merryvale sucked at his pipe, holding a flame into the bowl that leapt madly as he inhaled. He nodded towards Myrddin, "The reason we trained you with Merlin was to enhance your powers as witches. In fact, the spell you were performing with him in the cave wouldn't really have done much more than stop Le Fay for a few minutes. It wasn't designed to hold her for more than that." He shrugged nonchalantly as he let out double plumes of smoke from his nostrils, "She could only be killed by the Slayer, only by a power greater than her own. You two were there to set up and facilitate that."
A wave of nausea swept through Tara's body, almost bending her double. The Council had used her and Willow for their own gain. The spell wouldn't have worked anyway, she had failed at nothing, had stopped nothing. In her mind, the scene of the cavern reworked its way around her whirling brain. She pictured Willow again, lying helpless on the floor of the cavern, Le Fay's arms wrapped around her as she sucked the life force out the girl. And if she had continued doing the spell…she shook her head, if she hadn't gone to help Willow…what then?
"What are you saying? That we couldn't have stopped her anyway?" Willow's dejected and amazed voice seemed very loud in the quiet of the office. "All that training and worrying for nothing?"
"Not for nothing." Myrddin shook his head, looking across at Merryvale, who leant back in his chair, a smug grin passing over his face.
"You would have let Willow die." Tara blurted suddenly, blushing as all eyes turned to her. Her eyes were fixed on Myrddin, his impassive statement angering and frightening her. "You would have let me let her die. And all for some stupid spell that wouldn't have done anything anyway?" Her breath came out in a rush of emotion as the sickness crawled its way into her stomach and lay there, dampening all rationality.
"It was the risk of the task." Merryvale spoke to all of them. "Sometimes casualties happen, it's for the greater good." He seemed so decided in his detachment from the situation, as he was from the three young women who sat dumbstruck in front of him. As they looked at him, it was as though everything he had ever told them had been a contagious lie, designed to pull them together, scatter them apart. Nothing he, or Myrddin, had ever said made sense anymore. The bewilderment hung over them as a dark cloud, to sully their triumph, embodied only by Faith's eyes darting between the other occupants of the room.
"Remember what I said about emotional control?" Myrddin's voice was a reminder to their purpose, to a crooked purpose that now seemed without cause or reason. "A witch has nothing without that. And you my dear," he nodded towards Tara, "you chose to feel emotion over sense. You chose your friend and all she represents over the task."
"No…" Willow whispered, the frown on her face kneading its way into her features even deeper. Her hand crept out, grasped Tara's and held it tight. The blonde girl didn't even register the touch, her blue eyes wide with betrayal and lies.
"Which is why we would like Willow to stay and train with us." Merryvale continued where Myrddin had left off. "We feel that you will be an asset to the Council in the end. We need more people like you, prepared to give all for the cause. Naturally we will make it worth your while. All our resources and annals of knowledge are open to you, whenever you need them. Myrddin will take you under his wing, so to speak, and we can promise a very bright future for you here with the Council."
Willow felt Faith stiffen beside her, unerringly opposed to the rigid structures that were now being imposed upon her. The library and all it knew flashed through her mind, the power she had felt flooding her body when she had connected with Myrddin, everything swept into her head and around it in one clear moment of experience. Temptation curled its fingers around her heart and caressed it gently.
"Wh…what if I don't want to?" she asked in a small voice.
Merryvale let out a rumbling laugh that turned into a cough as he tapped his pipe against the marble ashtray in front of him. Leaning forward, he cleared his lungs and shook his head, his eyes fixed on the trembling redhead. "Perhaps we should talk about this later, give you some time to get used to the idea," he smiled, shuffling the notes in front of him once more. His pudgy fingers moved them into a neat pile as he closed the cardboard folder around them, tapping it gently with a fingertip as he laid it on top of a pile of similar folders at one side of his desk. Case closed.
Tara shook her head, wresting her hand away from Willow's grasp. Standing up, she gave one final glance towards Merryvale and Myrddin before running from the room. Willow was on her feet a second later, reaching for the door before it clicked shut. A hand on her arm stopped her.
"Let me go." Faith said in a low tone, her eyes seeking Willow's. "Please?"
The dark Slayer made her way outside to the secret clearing that had somehow drawn all three girls towards it over the past few weeks. It offered some kind of peaceful sanctuary from the ordered Council headquarters that were fast becoming oppressive and restrictive to the Slayer and, she felt, to Willow and Tara as well.
Pushing aside the branches that covered the entrance to the clearing, Faith saw Tara sitting on the stone bench, her eyes turned upwards to the afternoon sun that streamed through the treetops overhead. The blonde girl had been crying, her eyes were reddened and raw. But now, it seemed that she had achieved a momentary peace, as she took a deep breath and sighed it out into the air that carried distant birdsong to their ears.
Faith stood some distance from Tara, folding her arms over her chest and watching as the witch turned to look at her, a faint smile on her lips. Something inside of Faith wanted to go to her, put her arms around her, comfort her. But as always, the thought was in her head and dispelled before she even had chance to experience it and really feel it. The only consolation to her was that she had thought it at all.
"She's going to stay you know." Tara said softly, her voice carrying across the stillness of the green towards Faith.
"You don't know that." Faith said bluntly, biting at her bottom lip. "I mean, you and she…you're together an' all. You saved her life for god's sake."
"Oh…Faith, you saved both our lives. And Merlin's too." Tara's eyes narrowed slightly in gratitude, remembering how fiercely Faith had fought to protect them. "It's you who should be staying here. They should give you a big shiny medal or something."
Faith moved forward a little, taking two steps closer to the blonde witch before stopping again and pushing her hands deep into her pockets. She flicked her hair back over her shoulder with an easy motion of the head and grinned self-consciously. "Well, they kinda have asked me to stay," she admitted, watching as Tara smiled in congratulation at her, "But I said I didn't want to."
The smile faded from Tara's face as she shook her head. "Why not?" The girl's voice was incredulous, "I thought that was what you wanted, for the Council to take you back again. I don't understand."
"That makes two of us." Faith let out a short laugh. "I guess I realised that the Council can't give me what I want. I need to…uh…" she paused for a second, her eyes meeting Tara's in a moment of honesty, "I need to go back to Sunnydale for that."
Tara nodded, looking down at her hands in her lap, her blonde hair hanging down to cover her face. A brief smile passed over her lips as she mouthed a word to herself, the name of another Slayer that had hung over Faith for too long now. "I see," she murmured.
"So," Faith said brightly, with a confidence she didn't really feel, "I kinda need as many friends as I can get right now. I need you to, you know…" she took another couple of tentative steps towards Tara. "I need you to be my friend for a while, if you want to, that is."
Standing up, Tara walked over to face the Slayer, their faces on a level with one another. She saw Faith as she truly was, scared, full of regret and somewhere deep inside, a little hope. It echoed her own feelings at that moment, struck a chord between them both that played a friendship, patterning from one girl to another.
"Of course I do. Although you might have to be my friend for a while too. If Willow does stay that is."
"You really think she'll choose this place over you?" Faith shook her head, "No way."
"Maybe not forever." Tara said sadly, "But she might, for a while, want to be here. I don't want to stand in her way. I love her too much for that." She hung her head again, chewing on her lower lip before an anger flashed through her eyes and she looked up at Faith. "Fucking Council!" she blurted out, the words making her flush, "Fucking assholes!"
Faith whistled slowly, standing back, "Quite a mouth you got on you there Tara." She slipped an arm around the blonde girl's shoulders, leading her out of the clearing and back to the house as the witch couldn't help breaking into a grin. "I'm sure not gonna want to get on the wrong side of you."
Part 18
Willow was still crying long after she had watched the plane disappear into the clouds. The last words Tara had spoken to her echoed around her brain as her thoughts were filled with the tenderness of the night they had spent with one another. They had talked around the subject for hours before Tara had urged her to stay, try out the Council training programme at least for a couple of weeks. Although Willow had protested strongly, her refusal had become weaker and weaker under the reasoning of Tara's calm rationality.
After all the Council had done, lied to them, cheated them, it still remained the Council. To break into the inner sanctum of the secrets and rituals still held a pull for both the witches. Although Willow couldn't agree with any of the methods by which they had been tested, she knew that, deep within her, there was still the desire to learn more, to explore, to know. She was afraid that, despite her reaffirmation of her feelings to Tara, she wanted to train with Myrddin, she wanted to know what he knew, to increase and develop her powers. Both she and Tara knew that she couldn't do that back in Sunnydale. Grudgingly, Willow had accepted her destiny.
It had seemed, in the moments of darkness in which they lay in each other's arms, that a deeper trust had sprung up between them. Confidences they had shared, words that held so much emotion had pushed their way into Willow's heart. Listening to Tara promise to wait for her as long as it took, hearing the oaths of commitment they swore to one another by the light of a single candle, the redhead had slowly agreed to stay with the Council, as long as it pleased her.
Rubbing at her eyes, Willow almost stumbled towards the waiting figure of an anonymous Council member, who had brought them all to the airport. He had watched uncomfortably as Willow had hugged first Tara, then Faith, and then Tara again. Several times. Faith had tried to not appear as happy as she felt when Willow had thanked her again for saving them all. But it was becoming harder for the dark Slayer to resist the shaky hand of friendship that Willow was constantly extending to her and she had whispered to Willow that she promised to look after Tara until her return.
"Is everything in order?" the grey-suited Council operative enquired politely, his curt accent cutting into her thoughts.
She glanced up at him, sniffing. His question would have seemed ridiculously funny if she hadn't been filled with a whole myriad of Tara. Almost confused, her gaze drifted away from him towards the departure lounge. She nodded briefly. "Yeah, let's go," she whispered before following him out of the airport.
It was dark when they got back into Sunnydale. The flight had been long and punctuated by a family who argued constantly and had little to no control over where their children went, or how loud they were when they decided to run up and down the aisles. Faith had been dutifully concerned over Tara's sombre mood and had offered to maim both children in an effort to cheer the blonde witch up a little. Tara had returned her sincerity with a faint smile before turning her back on the Slayer and going to sleep against the chair.
As they stood outside the airport, Faith stopped and closed her eyes, breathing in deeply. "Can you smell it?" she asked, tasting the air around her.
"What?"
"Sunnydale." Faith grinned crookedly, "The Hellmouth. All of it, here like it always is." She picked up her bag from the floor and slung it easily over her shoulder, grabbing Tara's suitcase with her other hand. "Just like coming home," she added, taking another deep breath.
Tara followed her obediently as Faith sauntered towards the cab line that was waiting to prey on innocent and perhaps, not so innocent, tourists and visitors. As they got into the cab, stowing their bags neatly away in the trunk, the dark Slayer shook her head and looked closely at Tara.
"You sure you're gonna be okay?" she asked concernedly, her voice holding a note of maternal protectiveness that an inner voice whispered it was quite alright to feel. As the words came out of her mouth, Faith fought an embarrassment to retract them, instead coughing and looking down at her leather-clad legs.
Tara smiled and put her hand on Faith's arm. "I'll be fine," she sighed, "It won't be the same without Willow, but I'll be fine. I know she'll come back to me someday. I guess that's what matters."
"You know, I kinda don't understand it. That…thing you and she have. It's like.." Faith searched her mind for the words and came up short, as always, feeling frustrated with her inability to express what was truly inside her. "It's like you and she are…you know…well it's kinda great I guess," she shrugged. "Sure wouldn't mind some of that stuff for myself."
Tara closed her eyes and laid her head against the firm seat of the cab as it drove away from the airport, her hand still resting on Faith's denim arm. A feeling of love swept her body as she wondered, for the hundredth time since they had left England, just what Willow was doing right now. She sighed, pressing her lips together as the Slayer sniffed and settled herself into her seat. "You will have Faith," she said gently, feeling rather than seeing the grin that self-consciously spread itself across the other girl's lips, "You will have."
Willow turned and focused her energies on the glass that stood alone on the table. The room around it faded into darkness as her eyes felt the glass, held it for a second in her mind before it lifted slightly off the surface of the table and shattered into pieces.
Myrddin walked forwards to stand behind her and patted her on the shoulder, his grip firm and congratulatory. As the deep red décor of the room came back into focus, Willow turned and faced her teacher, an expectant look on her face. "Was that okay?" she said breathlessly.
"You are learning fast." Myrddin nodded, removing his hand from her shoulder and going over to inspect the shards of glass that lay strewn over the tabletop. He bent down over them and picked one up between his fingers, turning it over, inspecting it carefully as he held it up. Light shone through it, refracted by the misshapen surface and rough edges. He pushed his lips together, feeling the last vestiges of energy from the witch fall away from the glass. A concerned look passed through his eyes, one that Willow couldn't fail to notice. "What?" she said, moving closer to him, wondering if somehow she'd done something wrong.
The wizard turned to face her, his eyes enquiring but not unkind. "Child," he spoke finally, after much internal deliberation, "do you believe in destiny?"
"Uh…well yeah, I guess." Willow frowned, unsure of where this conversation was leading. Her eyes flicked between those of the wizard and the glass he held in his hand.
"This piece of glass is as nothing now," he said, turning it over in his fingers, "It was a part of a solid thing, which is no more. It becomes just scattered energy."
Willow nodded, hardly daring to breathe. A surge of apprehension lifted inside her as she watched Myrddin replace the glass on the tabletop. He muttered something unintelligible to himself and shook his head. The shards of glass trembled on the tabletop before lifting and fitting themselves together to form a solid shape once more.
"Your energies are scattered." Myrddin turned to her. "They do not form a solid shape, they are too mixed and confused to unite."
"I'm…I'm trying!" Willow said, pleading with him to understand her efforts, "I'm just not…" she sighed, "Tara was always the better witch. She's the one with all the power. I'm just, uh, I'm not as good as she is. She should have stayed here, not me."
Myrddin smiled and took her hand in his own, holding it gently up against her breast. "In there," he pointed at her heart, "That's where true power is found. You must feel it with your heart." He smiled sadly, "I realise that what the Council put you and Tara through was perhaps not the best for you two as witches, as the people that you are." He led her over to a sofa at one side of the room and sat her down, still holding her hand. "I thought that in time, things might change. But you Willow, you must follow your own destiny, as we all must."
"Are you telling me to go?" Willow's voice was heavy with tears of expected failure as she gazed wide-eyed at the old man beside her. She didn't understand what he was saying, that she couldn't stay? That she shouldn't stay? Or that she should?
"No child, no," Myrddin almost laughed at her fervent statement, "I'm only asking you what you want. What do you really want? And, if you feel that is your destiny, then you must reach out for it with all your energies." He glanced back at the table, where the glass stood whole and unblemished, "Focus Willow," he added softly, "Focus."
"I'll get it!" Buffy shouted to her mother as she leapt down the stairs two at a time. She knew that Willow and Tara would have wanted a couple of days to get over their jetlag and, as such, hadn't even bothered attempting to contact them. Willow had promised her plenty of stories about 'jolly old England' on their return. The last time Buffy had heard from them, apart from a gaudy postcard emblazoned with coats of arms and trees, was when they had first arrived. She was eager to hear all about Giles' homeland, if only to have her suspicions confirmed that British people really were as odd as Giles appeared to be.
The sound of the doorbell had scarcely finished echoing through the house by the time Buffy reached the front door and she flung it open, a huge smile plastered across her face, excited to see her best friend and Tara again.
As she took in the figure standing outside the door, her smile froze, then faded rapidly. Startled blue eyes ranged over the leather trousers and denim jacket that had become a mayhem trademark. Fear jumped erratically into her head, only to be replaced by a resentment and anger that she had almost forgotten. For a moment, neither girl spoke.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Buffy finally asked, gripping onto the door so tightly she could feel her fingers practically digging into the wooden frame.
Faith shifted from foot to foot and shrugged lightly, feeling a dizziness of emotion wash through her body as she looked back at Buffy.
"Hey B," she said, "I'm back."
Tara laid her books to one side of her desk and glanced at the clock on her wall, calculating what time it would be in England. She had been trying to study for over an hour now, with little success. After she had slept off her jetlag (and no one had warned her just how debilitating that could be) she had made a concerted effort to keep herself occupied. A joyful reunion with Miss Kitty, who had been delivered courtesy of Buffy's mom earlier that week and kept safe by a fellow dorm mate, had been the only bright spot in her return. She missed Willow dreadfully, feeling it seep into her consciousness like a recurring nightmare. Waking up from her long sleep had been empty and hollow without the redhead's arms around her.
She sighed and picked up her pencil again, tapping it mindlessly on the desk in front of her. Her eyes drifted over the schoolbooks that had been heaped on top of copies of spell books. Witchcraft seemed to lose its allure now, without Willow it was no fun, she told herself. Without Willow, nothing seemed fun. And yes, she knew she had told her girlfriend to stay in England because that was what she thought she wanted, but, sitting here alone in the dimmed light of her room, all Tara could think about was how much she needed Willow with her all the time. She made things bright and worthwhile. It was her destiny to be with her. To be together. However long that took.
A light rapping at her door brought her out of her reverie. Swinging her head round, she listened as the tapping grew louder. Whoever it was seemed pretty keen on getting her attention. Rising from her seat, Tara glanced at the clock again, wondering if Faith's visit to Buffy hadn't perhaps gone the way she had planned it.
"Faith, is that you?" she called out as she walked towards the door.
Opening it, she blinked twice in mute astonishment as the features she had longed for and dreamed about swum into view. Her mouth fell open, no sound coming out as she leaned heavily against the door in an effort just to stay upright.
"I had to come back." Willow said, her eyes searching Tara's for some kind of acceptance. She stood in the hallway, surrounded by her suitcase and other bags. Tears filled her eyes as she saw the joy breathing itself across her girlfriend's face. Distance between them lessened as Tara practically threw herself into Willow's arms, the two holding onto each other as if no one else in the world existed but the other.
"Willow!" Tara sobbed into the other girl's neck, feeling her warmth suffuse itself around her own body as the redhead's arms snaked around her back, holding her close. She stood back, still holding onto Willow, afraid that if she let her go, she would disappear like a dream. "Why…?" she began, but the other girl shook her head and closed her eyes momentarily.
"It didn't work Tara." Willow said softly, "Nothing worked. I couldn't think about anything but you. I didn't want to…" she paused in her attempt to say everything all at once, "I didn't want to stay there without you. I hated it. It was empty."
"But, your training…Myrddin. I mean…" Tara was still unable to form her tumbling thoughts and words coherently, instead letting the tears speak freely, falling down her cheeks.
"I don't care about any of that." Willow said firmly. "It doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is us, being together. You're my destiny Tara. I love you."
"Oh god I love you too," Tara breathed.
"So don't make me stay away from you, ok?" Willow half-smiled, pulling the other girl close to her again. "Otherwise I'll have to keep coming back to you again and again. Everything leads back to you Tara, everything. I only realised that when you went away." She held the other girl away from her for a moment, looking deep into her eyes, "So let's not do this again, deal?"
A smile crept across Tara's full lips as she grinned back at the only woman she'd ever loved in her whole life. The journey felt completed, like coming home after a long absence, filling her heart with contentment and hope for whatever came after.
"Deal," she answered, nodding.
THE END
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