What Happens Now?

Picture from Raelyn.

Slowly Buffy came back to herself. 

Disorientation and pain surrounded her, but she ignored those things, carefully cordoning them off so that she wouldn’t let them flow back into her husband. She didn’t care what happened, nor did she care that by rights she should still be mad at Angelus for what he did, said, and didn’t stop. Right now, all that mattered was that her husband was in pain and she was going to stop it. More importantly, she was going to make those who had done this to him pay. 

Dearly. 

Brushing aside the helping hands, the voice and unvoiced concerns, the queen rose from her bed, one she didn’t remember going to. Gathering all her strength around her, she carefully sent all her love through their bond to Angelus, who was sleeping now, shivering in the middle of some forest, and promised him. 

‘Everything will be fine, my love, I promise. Hold on and I will find you. Nothing else matters now, I’ll make everything all right again, my darling husband. And we’ll be a family. I’m so sorry, love, so very sorry, please forgive me.’ 

Whether it was the soothing words, the comfort and love that Buffy sent through their link, or something else, Angelus relaxed. Gently falling into a sleep filled with dreams of her and nothing else, he allowed her to soothe him. Whatever had happened to him, and she had a sinking suspicion about what that was, it wouldn’t bother him in his sleep and Buffy was determined to find those responsible for this before he realized just what had happened. She wasn’t sure herself, not entirely, and the bone-deep pain he felt affected her in ways Buffy wasn’t sure she’d ever felt. Night was falling there, soon the dangers of the sun would disappear and he’d be able to move again. 

Before another night fell, she was going to find him. 

Turning cold purple eyes to those who surrounded her, Buffy instructed, “Gunn, Oz, gather as many guards as you can spare, we’re going to the mortal realms. Drusilla, William, I want you to come with me, Tara, I need you to stay here, Kynan would have my powers if he knew I took you to the mortal lands. Theophilus gather the council and instruct them to be prepared for a meeting upon my return but tell them nothing else. Drusu and Nicholaus, I need you to remain here as well, guard Tara and be sure no one learns anything.”

Without further comment, she dismissed those gathered and went to dress. The moment they were all gone, Buffy felt her shoulders sag and her poise crumble. What in all the Lands happened to her husband? 

Within the hour, she sat atop Angelus’ warhorse, the Sword of the Ancient strapped to her back, all three and a half feet of it, and addressed her troops. Her long hair lay in a single braid down her back, so as not to get in her way, and her clothes were simple, loose pants and top for ease of movement. She didn’t know what to say to those assembled before her; they’d follow her, Buffy knew, because she was the Queen, she was Angelus’ eternal and she was powerful in her own right. Drawing a deep breath, she turned her steely purple eyes to the warriors before her. Since Angelus’ confrontation with unknown magicks, her own powers had been unstable, crashing around her in an uncontrolled wind and making her eyes turn from their normal green to purple. 

“We ride to the mortal realms,” Buffy began, her voice carrying over the ranks. A hundred soldiers sat silent atop their own horses, listening. She had debated telling them that humans attacked Angelus, their Ancient and Master, that he needed their help, but didn’t want him weak in their eyes. So, she settled on, “Your Ancient has been maliciously and cowardly attacked in his travels to procure territory for our kingdom. Those responsible for this shall pay. Your duty is to find Darla, Sire to your Ancient. I want her…alive, but have reason to believe that she was a party to this attack.”

There was no reaction to this statement and Buffy smiled. It wasn’t a pretty smile, more along the lines of a bearing of teeth; a malicious grin that told them exactly how ‘alive’ she wanted Darla. Their estimation of their queen went up another notch. She may be elfin, she may be married into the Aurelius line, but she was their queen. And they would, to a man, die for her. 

“Darla’s actions have brought shame to our Kingdom and to her line, and she must be punished. As Queen, that is my right; however, honor to the Kingdom comes first. We’ll ride to the camp the human tribe is located, I want to know what kind of dark magicks they used and I want to know how. Few humans know of such things; I want to know who taught them. Other than that, I care naught for them.” 

Those before her nodded once, indicating they understood her unspoken implication. Those responsible for whatever happened to Angelus were to die. Slowly and painfully, no one was to survive after their queen learned what evil cursed their king. 

Without another word, Buffy rode out of the courtyard and towards the mountains where the portal to the mortal realms was. Oz and Gunn flanked her, William and Drusilla behind them, and the warriors behind them. Buffy had timed the entrance through the portal, so they were arriving during the night. While a mere hour passed here, five had there and Buffy wasn’t about to waste any more time.
~~~~~~~~~~
Angelus had never felt so confused in his life. 

Buffy… 

Worse yet, he had never been so scared. 

Buffy… 

It wasn’t a feeling he was comfortable with and one, quite frankly, he had no previous experience with. And yet it was there, forceful and commanding, taking over everything about him, controlling his actions, or in this case, his inactions. He huddled under the rocky outcropping for…hours, days, weeks. Time had no meaning. All he knew was pain and confusion, confusion and pain. 

Buffy…please, beloved. 

What was wrong with him? Angelus didn’t know his mind flooded with images of blood and agony not his own, with sounds of torturous screaming and pleas for it to end. With laughter and taunting, and with, through it all and stronger than anything, whispered promises of love. 

It was this last he held onto, certain it was the only port in the maelstrom that currently consumed him. The vampire held onto that voice, the soft sweet voice that whispered in his mind, in his ear, in his very being. And slowly, oh so slowly, everything else receded into the background, becoming a distant murmur, a low howl of suffering. Clinging to the voice, one he knew intimately, Angelus began to remember. And in remembering, cried. 

Buffy, don’t leave me…

Long ago, before the rift between realms, they were all one, all connected through magicks and a mutual respect for others. During the Great Wars, this changed, and vampires began, forcibly, to turn humans as part of their terror campaign. Angelus couldn’t remember his other name, but that didn’t matter, all that mattered now was that he did remember who he was. The young Celtic warrior from the land of Tuatha De Danann, People of the goddess Danu, and when he met the outwardly sweet blonde who changed his life forever. 

Long before Fitan, the patron of traditional lore and storytelling, and witnesses to all later settlements, the being now known as Angelus fought with his tribe. He was a tall lad, strong, and brave, but more often than not, drunk, trying desperately to fill the hollow that lived within him. Even he could not have said why that hollow existed, but it was there, refusing to leave him alone, taunting him with his loneliness and isolation. A hollow that wasn’t truly filled until his meeting with Buffy.

His people battled on the side of the mortals, believing that all creatures had the right to a life of their choosing. He was captured, tortured, and rescued by Darla. The vampiress had ulterior motives, but at the time, Angelus was too weak and disoriented from weeks of torture and starvation to realize that. It was only later, after Darla turned him, that he learned the fate of his people: defeated by the Milesians, they were driven to the underworld to live as the Aes sidhe, and had forsaken him as a causality of war. 

Darla turned him, thinking him only as a plaything for her wide and varied tastes. That changed once Angelus realized the true power he wielded, over her, over others, and even over the old Ancient. It wasn’t difficult for him to rise through the ranks the old Master commanded, in fact, it was pathetically easy; only now could Angelus truly appreciate the languor that Ancient felt for a life that was eons old. 

Shaking and cold despite the fact he knew it was near impossible for him to feel the chill in the night air, Angelus remembered the rest. He remembered the ruthlessness he felt, the mercilessness he had for others who were weaker than he; he remembered the enjoyment he took in forcing those weaklings to do his bidding, to cower before him. He remembered taking over the dead Ancient’s throne, kicking Darla out, and…Darla. 

This was Darla’s fault. She was the one to bring him that girl, she was the one to follow him to these lands, and she was the one to…to cause the rift between him and his beloved wife. 

Angelus crawled from under the outcropping to stand on shaky legs. The sun was just setting, but those harmful rays did not touch him. With no sense of where he was, of where that fateful cabin lay, the Ancient began to move, following the bond that tied him, however distantly, with his soon to be very dead sire. 

No, no, wait, his conscious yelled at him, he couldn’t do that. Darla may deserve to die for what she did and caused, but he couldn’t be the one to do that, couldn’t be the one to end her life, because he…couldn’t. Couldn’t kill, couldn’t add to the canopy of voices that condemned him for his past deeds, couldn’t, couldn’t, couldn’t… 

No matter, there was another way, there had to be. Red hot anger burned through him at the thought of what his Sire did and an inner voice asked his conscious, what was one more to the many screams already pounding through his mind…? 

Stumbling through the woods, unsure if it was due to whatever painful magicks those humans cursed him with or something else, Angelus followed the link to his sire. By her hand, however indirectly, this had happened, and he was going to see she realized the actions of her jealously, of her bitterness, of her revenge. 

Buffy, love, it hurts… 

He needed another, but that other was forever denied him, their schism a result of insecurities neither acknowledged in their years together. Yet he still needed her, needed her strength, her compassion, her love, and her courage. Needed her because she was his everything. Leaning against a tree, steadying himself against the pain that continued to wrack his body, Angelus knew she was coming for him. 

Straightening with renewed strength, he pushed away from that tree and vowed never to let Buffy find him. Not because he was still angry over their fight, no, because he long ago forgave her. He needed her, needed her with a strength that was unknown to him before their meeting years ago. He would not let his weakness, this terrible thing forced upon him, this sickness, anywhere near her. She loved him; she loved the creature before that night, how many days ago? She loved that man, that vampire, that husband. 

He still loved her, he still wanted her, needed her, craved her. But would not impose himself upon her, not now, not like this. This was his last gift to her. 

Angelus, husband, I love you, please don’t shut me out, baby please… 

With a strength he wasn’t aware of possessing, Angelus closed, slowly, carefully, the bond that connected him with the only being in any world that meant anything to him. It wasn’t a complete closing, but it was more secure than before. And with that, with that final straw connecting he and his eternal, Angelus truly felt dead. 

I love you, Buffy, always… 

Darla was there, at the cabin, waiting for her wounds to heal. Animal carcasses littered the ground outside the small wooden structure, a sure sign she’d attempted to heal herself from their blood. He’d done that, Angelus recalled, he’d beaten her, cursed her, and tried to murder her. Stumbling inside the single room, he searched the darkened interior for signs of his sire. 

“You came back,” a croaked voice called out of the darkness. “I knew you would, Angelus, you’ll always come back to me.” 

“You did this to me.” It was a statement, flatly said and with no emotion whatsoever. Angelus had no emotion; they were all locked away deep within him in a place held by Buffy. As for the foul creature before him, Angelus cared less than nothing for her. His hatred of her was tempered only with the absolute feeling that he didn’t care what happened to her. “Why?” 

Darla, weak, confused, took a moment to pool all her strength to focus on her childe, to really see what stood before her and to wonder what he was talking about. “What…?” Gasping in shock, cringing in horror, she recoiled backwards, not noticing her pain, the grinding of bones, the reopening of cuts. What abomination stood before her? 

“You stink of…” Darla trailed off, hardly able to say the words. “You stink of a soul! Get out!” She screeched at him, her words echoing off the thin wooden walls, between the cracks of the floor, through the earth, carried on the wind…to Buffy’s ears. 

Whether it was some kind of magick or through what little remained open of their bond, Buffy heard Darla’s words, her every fear confirmed. Angelus with a soul, her beloved, her lover, the father of her child, her mate in every way, changed now, because of something that she hadn’t even cared was missing. His soul. 

Angelus stood there, listening to his sire wail like a banshee, her words not making any sense. And then they did, a horrible kind of sense and everything he was feeling crashed down on him once more, only this time it was worse, so much worse, because this time Angelus knew what he was feeling, what he was hearing. 

The keening howl of all he murdered.
~~~~~~~~~~
They rode across the barrier, a hundred strong, galloping through the darkened landscape following their queen. They knew not where she led, but lead she did, directly to the human camp. Their Ancient was nowhere to be found, but that didn’t deter them. 

“Spread out,” Buffy commanded, her voice ringing over the forest. “I want all of them. Bring me the elders, the leaders, any magick users you sense. The rest are yours.” 

Turning to William and Drusilla, she spoke lower. “I’m going to find Angelus. I’m taking Oz and Gunn with me, see that the elders are spared.” Her voice lowered her, growling out the last of her orders, “I have some questions for them.” 

Riding off, knowing the two Firsts were behind her, Buffy searched the woods for her husband. Angelus was nearby, she knew, could sense him even with their link so closed off. But he was running from her, deliberately hiding so she would not find him. He didn’t want her…no, he didn’t want her to find him. But why? 

‘Angelus, love, where are you?’ Buffy tried to call through their bond, knowing he heard her even if he chose to ignore her. ‘I need you, Angelus, please come home to me.’ 

GO AWAY! 

The words were shouted, but Buffy heard them clearly. More importantly, she felt the underlying love and fear that pulsed through her husband. Angelus was never afraid, and that knowledge, those feelings swarming through to her despite his desperate need to close the bond, spurned her faster. 

Buffy searched for hours, watching the moon make her way across the blackened sky, the stars twinkle upon her. They were of no help, Angelus was a predator, born and bred, and even with their connection, Buffy could not find him if he didn’t wish to be found. Returning to the camp, she vowed, and knew Angelus heard it, that she would never give up on him. 

‘I will find you.’ 

The tribal elders were tied in a circle, bound and gagged, so no curses, no spells could escape their lips. The rest of the camp was in ruins, her men had listened to her and listened well, slaughtering those who had a part in her pain, in Angelus’ pain, overturning their brightly colored wagons, and ripping their tents, their belongings to shreds. 

Ignoring her warriors, her husband’s childer, her Firsts, and the rest of those tied near the spreading fires, Buffy hauled one of the men, the one she sensed the most hatred from, if not the most magicks, and threw him across the clearing. She pointed to the elder woman cowering nearby and ordered Drusilla to interrogate her. The elf knew the vampiress would know what to look for, more importantly, Buffy knew that Dru wouldn’t let anyone else learn what happened to Angelus. 

Quickly erecting a barrier so no one interrupted or heard them, Buffy turned to the man before her and began her questioning. 

“I know what you did to him,” Buffy spat at the still defiant man before her. The Sword of the Ancient rested against the hollow of his throat, Buffy’s eyes gleaming a fierce purple as her magicks whirled around the two of them, keeping everyone else out of their conversation. They could still see, and looked on in wide-eyed fascination at their petite queen as she threatened the man before her. 

“I know you gave him back his soul, I know you ripped that soul out of the aether and forced it from its final resting place to once again inhabit a body that was never meant to hold a demon and a soul. I know that you lost your daughter, but does that give you the right to take away my husband, the father of my unborn child, the leader of our people?” 

“He is a creature, an animal, nothing more,” the gypsy elder said, insanity gleaming in his dark eyes. The firelight played over his face, shifting the angular features into a parody of man. “Love has no meaning to beasts such as you; it is a foreign emotion that has no place in demons. He is nothing to us, a being who has no place here, one whom we should destroy. What we did to him is but a small part of our vengeance. To us,” he continued, his voice rising to that of a fanatic, “Vengeance is a living breathing thing, it is meant to last for eternity, it is meant to punish over and over until only that punishment remains.” 

“Do you,” Buffy asked as she drew the man upwards, replacing her sword with her hand, wrapping tight around his throat. “Have any idea who he was? Do you,” her voice lowered, “Have any idea who I am?” 

The gypsy was shaking now, the first tendrils of fear sparking in his eyes as he realized that maybe this wasn’t the best punishment to have cast. “I am Buffy, Princess of Elves, Only Daughter to Rupert, King of Elves, Queen and Eternal to Angelus, Ancient of Aurelius, and Holder of the Mage of Resim, the Holy Artifact of the United Realms.” Recognition sparked in his eyes; The Holy Artifact of the United Realms was known to all magick users, in all the realms. Even with magicks so old and with a tribe as outcast as this one, the man before her knew what it was. And was rightly terrified. 

“I am more powerful than you could possibly imagine, little man, I control all the Elfin Magicks, and wield all the ancient magicks from this backwards little land as well.” 

Now he truly was shaking. He’d heard of Buffy, it was impossible not to when one’s tribe was as immersed in the ancient magicks as his. Buffy, half-elf, half-human, she commanded all the magicks in all the realms, controlling them with a skill and ease unknown to any other. And they, his little clan, all he had left in the world, had just cursed her husband with a soul. 

Even their immortal souls, their bodies for eons to come, were in trouble, the gypsy thought. 

In one last spurt of really stupid defiance, the elder laughed, “Your devil spawn will never know her father, elf. Your kingdom will fall and your race will die out.” He spat on her then, marking the curse as final, his words and hatred giving power to his vengeance. Except the spittle never made it to Buffy’s face, the words died before they left his mouth. 

“Wrong, little man. My daughter will know her father and will love him. My kingdom will thrive and my husband will return to us. We will one day take over this pathetic little realm and it will be you and your children’s children who will not survive to see that.” 

In a swift movement, Buffy used the sword to slice the man’s head off, lowering the barrier as his body collapsed to the ground, and nodding to the vampires awaiting her signal. As fast as she’d killed the elder, they beheaded the remainder of his tribe. Dru drained the elder woman as she chanted things in a language Buffy didn’t understand. Whatever it was Dru said, Buffy hoped it cursed the people before her forever. 

Turning slowly back to the warhorse, Buffy reluctantly mounted, prepared to lead Angelus’…her army back to their kingdom, without her husband. 

“I swear to you, Angelus, husband and bound mate, father of my child, I will find you. I love you.” 

Somewhere, as far from her as he could be, and still running even farther, Angelus heard her. 

I love you…
**********
In a moment of pity, Buffy thought on the twists her life had taken over the past weeks and tried not to cry. Now most certainly wasn’t the time; Dru continued to wail for her lost sire, people were beginning to talk and Buffy knew she’d have to tell them something. Her child continued to grow within her and that announcement needed to be made sooner rather than later. 

Darla was in the dungeons, found by an enterprising young soldier named Kenton. He swore to Buffy, upon his clan and line, that Darla said nothing to him of Angelus, that he knew nothing of what Darla might know and that he was loyal to Buffy, Queen of Aurelius. Buffy didn’t believe him. Maybe it was the sudden paranoia that Angelus’ leaving caused, or the fact that one word about his soul leaking out to their people and his throne, her throne, were in danger, not to mention their lives. 

Gunn and Oz, who also didn’t trust Kenton, took the young vampire into the dungeons and left him there. As far as Buffy was concerned, he could stay there indefinitely. Or until she found Angelus and removed his soul once more. By then Kenton would most likely be quite mad and any ramblings that came from him their people would dismiss. Not willing to take any chances until such a time, Buffy kept the soldier locked away, far from any other prisoners. 

Such as Darla. That bitch was left in a dungeon, the worst her Firsts could manage, and would remain there until Buffy decided otherwise. Never sounded better than good at the moment. 

All of which did not help with her bigger problem. He was gone. Angelus had left her. He had left her, their unborn child, and his kingdom. She didn’t understand it herself, though Buffy did feel the confusion, the guilt, the sorrow that invaded her beloved husband. What she didn’t understand was what she was going to tell everyone: her Firsts, her husband’s childer, the High Priestess, Tara, her father…her and Angelus’ daughter. 

Buffy refused to cry, again, refused to give into the grief and pain and unbearable emptiness she felt with his absence. She refused to rage at fate or the gods or destiny or whatever or whoever had allowed this to happen and she adamantly refused to give her enemies the satisfaction of seeing her break down. She would be strong; for herself, her babe, her kingdom. And Angelus. She would keep everything together…a sob wanted to force itself free but Buffy refused to let it. 

She wouldn’t be weak even for herself. She couldn’t afford to be. 

But oh, how she missed him. His smile, his laugh, that wicked gleam in his eye right before he showed her body, once more, again and again, all the pleasures only he could bring her. Their long walks as they discussed everything from the history of the Lands to the latest fashions and publications. Hell, she even missed his temper, the rage that cowered everyone, within the kingdom and without. Except her. Even when it was they who fought, she had never been frightened of him.

Except when he’d beaten her. He’d used that formidable temper to show her exactly what he felt towards her when for so many years she’d thought otherwise. When he used their bond to force horrible things through to her in an effort to hurt her even more. 

For how many years had they been with each other, an integral part of the other’s lives? They had promised forever, bonding not only through the marriage alliance but through Vampiric and Elfin Laws and Marriage Rituals. A spiritual merging even though Angelus lacked a soul, per se (and ah, the irony), one that connected them more intimately than any other could possibly understand. Buffy could count on one hand the number of times she and Angelus were separated for longer than two days. 

Until now. 

He was gone; he had left her, he had left and Buffy was beginning to wonder how she was ever going to survive…and how she was going to get him back. There was no doubt in Buffy that Angelus was returning to her when Darla – and that bitch would pay – brought him the cursed gypsy girl. He was returning to her because there really was no other way for them to survive. They’d work out whatever problems they had, Buffy was certain, and raise their daughter together. 

Her world was no longer that perfect bubble, however, and that didn’t look like it was going to happen. Nothing if not determined, Buffy stiffened her spine, sitting straighter, eyes hardened, lips curved in a disinterested sneer, and vowed – again – to find him. It didn’t matter how long it took, where she had to go, how far she had to follow him. 

Or what horrors were forced upon him. 

Angelus was hers, her husband, her mate, her lover, her love. And Buffy wasn’t going to let a little thing like a soul come between them. 

She sat on her throne (how many times had he taken her on this chair? Too many to count), decked out in her finest royal silks (how many of Buffy’s clothing had Angelus torn in his need of her? Just as many as she had shredded to get to his perfect body), crown on her head, jewels winking on her fingers and at her ears. Angelus had often given her gifts, threading ropes of jewels through her long hair then sketching her in one wanton position after another…only to act out those positions with passionate need. 

Other than the long royal chain, with its heavy symbol of the Ancient of Aurelius at her throat, her neck was bare, the v-neck dress Buffy wore – as with all her clothing – was revealing enough to show her smooth elegant neck, creamy shoulders, and, most importantly, the prominent mark Angelus had given her over a decade ago. Buffy felt a shot of lust race through her veins at the thought of his fangs in her, of the pleasure she received from his drinking her, from him. 

He had marked her, damn it, damn him; he had marked her, bonded with her; they had gone through the union rituals and were more a part of the other than anyone could possibly conceive. She was his eternal, his queen…and she was going to make sure his kingdom remained as intact as her eternal love for him. 

Buffy’s jade-green eyes hardened into slits of purple steel as she toughen herself against thoughts of the past, presenting a picture that everyone would become familiar with over the next days, weeks, months. Many would wonder about the carefree Elf who had laughed and cried with them, who had been so in love with their master…but she was no more. Only in the privacy of her rooms would she allow herself to lose control…and even then the agony would be too great for her to truly bare outside their shared dreams. For Buffy knew that in her dreams, their bond would open, fully allowing them each to experience all they craved. 

That thought alone almost made Buffy want to sleep all day and night, immersed in her world where Angelus was once more with her. But she couldn’t, Tara reminded her only thing morn. She couldn’t because she had a child to protect, a kingdom to run, a reputation to uphold. And lies to spread. 

Even now, they waited outside to hear what she had to say, words Buffy had yet to truly think of, and they waited, she knew, to take away this kingdom. Her kingdom now, her baby’s kingdom. It wasn’t going to happen, Buffy refused to let it, no matter what she had to do, this was her kingdom, Angelus’ kingdom, and it would remain that way. 

“Let them in,” she nodded to Gunn and the guard did so, admiration shinning in his eyes for his mistress and his own pain at her pain, even though his face was solemn as he nodded to the two standing by the grandly carved wooden doors.  

As the doors opened Buffy blocked them out, refusing to think of being pressed against them, of screaming out Angelus’ name as he took her against the beautifully carved doors. 

There were four who waited, one emissary each from the three other vampire kingdoms and one from the Continuum. They showed the proper respect due the queen of this land but there was a predatory gleam in their eyes and Buffy knew that whatever fight she was going to face in the coming months over Angelus’ disappearance, this was the first. 

“Welcome, my lords.” She said and waited. It was their move and Buffy would do nothing to make any of this easier on them. Cuman from Rezov Kingdom, Aetry from Muskogea Kingdom, Kow Pang from Mohi Kingdom, and Chang, General Chang, Buffy’s longtime friend as the envoy from the Continuum of Ancients. 

“My Lady,” General Chang said as he bowed again. He was, Buffy reflected, out of the four before her, the one most easily on her side. But he was, first and foremost, loyal to the Continuum he served despite any ties of friendship he felt towards her. “I bring greetings to you and your family and lands on this day.” 

Short, to the point, and neatly concealing whatever he may or may not have been informed of. Buffy nodded and smiled slightly at the vampire, tilting her head just enough to the side to show him her mark. It was more to remind everyone present that she was the bonded mate of one of their own and whatever she said was the same as anything Angelus said. 

It wasn’t for Chang’s benefit, however, but for the vampire next to him. Lord Aetru had coveted both Angelus’ kingdom and his wife since Buffy could remember. She had never told Angelus of Aetru’s proposition ages ago at a meeting of the Vampire Kingdoms during the first years of their marriage, had laughed in his face at the time, refusing to give into threats, empty or otherwise. And she wasn’t about to give into the odious man on any level now, especially now. 

“We have heard,” Aetru said a smarmy smile on his face Buffy wanted to punch off. And if she took half his face as well, so much the better. “That Angelus has deserted you and your child.” Buffy’s face remained impassive at his words though she did note that her unborn babe wasn’t referred to as Angelus’. She made a mental note to remedy that as soon as possible and quash any rumors to the contrary. Ah, to see the looks on their faces. 

“And,” Aetru went on, “That your kingdom is now in chaos. I, on behalf of Muskogea, would be more than happy to render any assistance necessary-” 

“Do you see chaos, my lord?” Buffy asked, cutting him off before he made any further remarks that necessitated Gunn or Oz killing him. At this stage she didn’t need a war on her hands. “Do you see anarchy or dissent? Of course you don’t; I assure you that I am perfectly capable of ruling this kingdom, but you already knew that, didn’t you?” She asked mockingly, smiling a bit at the vampire’s expression. A gambler he was not. 

Buffy was, she gambled with a master and won. Angelus might be the best, the most feared, the greatest, the most respected, but she, the elfin princess, beat the mighty Angelus at his own game. And won.  

“I am,” she stated in a strong voice, confident and true, though she didn’t raise her voice one bit. There was no need, and doing so suggested weakness. Weak Buffy was not. “Angelus’ heir and that is all that needs to be said.” 

Ambassador Cuman smirked at Aetru but remained silent. He was not about to renounce the words of the Queen before him; he’d seen first hand the power of her magicks due to a small, ah, boarder skirmish several years ago and had no desire to do so again. The vampire held nothing but the strongest respect for the elf and since that skirmish, had done his best to foster better relations between their kingdoms. 

Cuman was a gambler, but preferred to stack the odds in his favor. Making friends with the greatest magick user in all the Realms was definitely a way to earn stability and prosperity for his kingdom. And a formidable ally as well. 

However, his Ancient, not nearly the risk-taker Cuman was, demanded he try to somehow incorporate Aurelius into Rezov. Cuman had no idea how his Master expected him to do that, but the Ancient’s seers had declared their kingdoms to be joined. Force was one way, but Cuman suspected another, less violent – especially to his kingdom – means for procuring such unity. 

A throat cleared and all eyes swerved to Ambassador Kow Pang whose Mohi Kingdom bordered Angelus…Buffy’s now to the east. “By law, my lady,” he said, his raspy voice doing more to grate on Buffy’s nerves than anything Aetru said, “His sire, should she still live or his oldest childe are his heirs.” 

For one brief moment, less than a second, absolute silence reigned in the chamber. Kow Pang was bold, Buffy thought in that time, but incredibly stupid. With seditious and threatening words like that, did he really expect to live through the audience? On the other hand, Buffy’s position was new, she had not yet secured her hold, that announcement was tomorrow, something else she wasn’t looking forward to doing. But it also meant that she couldn’t begin a war today. Maybe next week… 

“You were at the bonding ceremony, Kow Pang,” Buffy shot back at the vampire and forced herself not to move from her seat and attack the man. She noticed Gunn scowling at the vampire from his positions as well. “Do you question the validity of it? Do you believe your ancient Vampire Laws in error? I am Eternal to Angelus, whether he is present at this moment or not.” Her voice hardened and her point was not lost on anyone as she carefully enunciated the rest. “I am Queen of this Land, the rightful heir as dictated by Angelus, Ancient of Aurelius. And I shall remain as such. Do not doubt it.” 

Chang smirked in appreciation of her words and dedication but said nothing; Cuman nodded in agreement with Buffy but also remained silent. The ambassadors bowed again and took their leave shortly thereafter. Buffy knew, however, that this meeting was only the beginning. Her kingdom wasn’t safe and neither was she…or her unborn child. 

Oz stepped from the shadows as soon as Gunn dismissed the guards at the doors. “You realize, Your Majesty,” Oz said formally, “That every chance they get two of those four will try and subvert your power. It’s best to strike now, while they haven’t yet had a chance to spread more rumors than are already circulating.”

Gunn nodded. “Oz is right. William and Drusilla are on your side and since Dru is Angelus’ oldest living childe, with her at your side, it will cause the rest of the land to draw behind you. Of course, they already are, this kingdom adores you, my queen, and will believe anything you tell them, follow whatever order you command.” He paused and shared a look with Oz then asked his mistress, “What of…Darla?” Neither wanted to say the woman’s name but it was necessary. 

“Is she still in the dungeon?” Gunn nodded but Buffy looked away from her trusted guard, cursing her weakness even as she did so. “I want to speak with her,” she said and stood, indicating that she wished to do so now. 

Stunned, neither Oz nor Gunn moved for a moment until Buffy stood at the double doors, waiting. “But milady…Buffy,” Oz amended, trying to figure a way to talk her out of this. “Is that really a good idea?” 

“No. But I’m going to do it anyway.” Then, as if she didn’t want to know but had to, “Has she…has she said anything?” 

“No,” Gunn answered and wished he had any other answer than that. Buffy nodded and opened the doors, making her way first to her rooms to change, removing all her jewelry but her wedding ring and the symbol of the Ancient of Aurelius. She and her husband’s sire had a lot to talk about.
~~~~~~~~~~
The room held no light and no view.

A single barred window no bigger than Darla’s torso let air in, but did little to dispel the general air of doom and dankness. Darla never noticed that, however. Her body ached, not yet healed from the beating Angelus gave her untold days ago. No blood was brought, no physician saw to her needs and Darla knew it was one more way to punish her. She could barely move from the corner she landed in when Gunn tossed her inside the worst cell imaginable. 

They probably decorated just for her. 

Her thoughts focused on two things. The first was her childe, the one she had lost, the one she had somehow betrayed though Darla didn’t want to admit she had until now. The second was on Buffy. She had once considered Buffy a friend; not close, certainly, but someone with whom Darla felt safe, someone she could trust. She had betrayed Buffy as well. 

“I trusted you,” Buffy’s voice said from just inside the doorway as if reading Darla’s mind and the vampiress had to wonder how she hadn’t heard the hinges squeak open. “And not only did you betray that trust by trying to seduce Angelus when he wanted nothing to do with you, you followed him to the mortal realms, where you deserted him there.”

“Yes, my queen,” Darla said and while her words were reverent, her tone was self-degrading, haunted, sorrowful. “I…I’m sorry, Buffy,” Darla said, raising haunted eyes to a potential friend, someone more than what they had been. 

“You will address me,” Buffy sneered, “As Your Majesty, My Queen, or Ancient. Understood?” 

Slowly Darla nodded. “Yes…My Queen.” Despair colored Darla’s words and the vampiress slumped back into the corner she had occupied since returning to the kingdom. “I don’t know what happened. We…by the gods, I’m sorry.” 

“Tell me,” Buffy commanded still at her place by the door. Oz and Gunn both stood outside the thick wooden entrance, just incase, and while Buffy was positive they could hear every word, she didn’t care; they’d never betray Darla’s words, of that the queen was sure. Just as she was sure Darla would tell her everything, the elder vampiress was weak, nothing more and nothing less. 

“I followed him out of the realm; Angelus was angry, angrier than I had ever seen him, no matter what he did that anger refused to leave him. I followed him for days, he was always ahead of me and when I finally caught up with him, he threatened me, I don’t know why he didn’t kill me then.” 

Buffy did, it was because Darla was his sire, and no matter how much he hated her, how indifferent Angelus was to her, no matter how powerful an Ancient he was, one simply did not kill one’s sire. Buffy, however, had no such restrictions. And definitely no qualms about doing so.

“I continued to follow him. He headed east and trekked across a mountain range, I forget which one. Every night, from the moment the sun set to seconds before it rose, Angelus slaughtered, he refused to speak your name, but…but during the day, as he, when he finally slept, he called out for you.” Darla knew that because she’d tried, everyday, to entice him back to her. 

He had even reached for Darla once, drunk and lonely, the vampiress continued, eyes closed against Buffy’s glare, thinking the vampiress was Buffy. And she had done nothing to dissuade Angelus, encouraged it in fact, in one of her ploys to ensnare her childe once more. Darla doubted he remembered the incident, it was only the once, and she was certainly never going to tell him because Darla realized, as he came within her and shouted his elfin wife’s name, what she had done. How she had betrayed them both. 

He’d caressed her body and Darla reveled in the fact that she finally had her childe back, Angelus murmured Buffy’s name…over and over again, roaring it out in climax before whispering, ‘I love you, Buffy,’ and falling back into an exhausted sleep. That was when Darla realized that she never had Angelus, would never again have her beautiful childe and that she had betrayed her only friend.

It hadn’t stopped her from trying, again and again, to lure him back to her bed, to draw his attention away from the elf and back to her, from ruthlessly squashing the voice, louder and louder as time went on, that taunted her with her betrayal. 

“I was hunting in some woods near the portal between the realms. I knew Angelus was returning to you, knew this was my last chance. There was a band of gypsies, they’d just crossed into the valley; I don’t think Angelus realized they were there. If he did, he didn’t care.” 

Buffy remained silent during Darla’s words but the vampiress could see nothing of the hurt and pain she was sure was hidden in the elf’s eyes as Darla recounted her tale. Her Queen’s face was as impenetrable as ever. “I’m so sorry, Buffy; there aren’t enough words to tell you how terribly sorry I am…and nothing I can do to make it up to you, I know.” 

“Tell me about the gypsies.” Buffy said her voice cold and hard though her eyes burned with unshed tears. She had already known about Angelus and Darla and had already known that her husband thought it was her instead of the vampiress…did that make it better? Maybe, Buffy wasn’t sure. She was sure that he would never know about it, Buffy would make sure of that. 

“Angelus was in a cabin in the woods and I came across some girl by the river. She was pretty, outgoing, really quite stupid, and was obviously never taught about vampires. When I returned to the hut Angelus was staying in, he…he was only a day at most from the portal.” Darla paused, cringing anew at what she’d done. “She flirted with him like a whore.” Darla stopped again at her words, remembering similar curses from both Buffy and Angelus but continued anyway, through cracked lips and broken bones, slightly amazed she hadn’t passed out from the pain. 

“She laughed and flaunted herself before him…maybe she really was a professional, I don’t know, but whatever game she thought she was playing, Angelus put a stop to it faster than she could blink. He threw me into the sunlight, and when I crawled out of it, he beat me to within an inch of my life, and drained her, leaving her as a gift for her family to find.” 

Buffy swallowed and felt bile rise in her throat. Not for the girl, Buffy didn’t care about some human who flaunted herself in front of her husband, but for the next words out of Darla’s mouth. “And then?” 

“It was the next night, I know because I thought he’d already gone back to you, leaving me in that horrid place. I doubt, now, Angelus thought about the gypsies again, probably never crossed his mind that they knew magicks like this…I was still in the cabin, too beaten to move much, draining animals to try to heal myself. I can’t remember everything, and I wasn’t there for the actual…but I don’t think the gypsies moved far from their camp…” Darla paused, swallowed and repeated, “I thought he had left, already returned to you, but the scream…” 

Darla trailed off, remembering the horrible noise that had echoed throughout the forest and had issued from her childe’s throat. “It was unbearable. If I had known…Buf- My Queen, I swear, I didn’t know. I couldn’t move, I didn’t know what they’d done, I didn’t know they’d…” 

“They returned his soul,” Buffy whispered as a single silent tear tracked down her face. She swallowed the rest of her tears and asked in a stronger voice, “And after?” 

Darla raised her bright eyes to Buffy’s and confirmed the elf’s thoughts. “He found the cabin again, I don’t know how, and he looked awful, as if he’d been beaten down, mentally and physically. It was after, I don’t know how long, I was weak and angry, and I…I kicked him out, yelling at him that he wasn’t Angelus, that he’d been tainted, and wasn’t worth my help despite his obvious pain. But he did remember. He remembered most of it, mumbled once about voices in his head. He…he screamed your name, shouting that you couldn’t find him, and ran into the night.” 

How was it that a soulless creature such as herself, Darla wondered as she met Buffy’s eyes once more, felt remorse at the other woman’s pain? “You found me soon after, brought me back here, I don’t know how long, how many days passed, what happened…” Silence settled over the dark cell for several long minutes, drowning the pair in its oppressive blanket. 

“You are Angelus’ sire,” Buffy finally said, throwing Darla completely. “You will renounce any claim you may think you have on this throne; you will support me as this kingdom’s queen, support my child as Angelus’ and you will keep quiet about Angelus’ soul.” Buffy stalked slowly into the dungeon and Darla noted the difference between the Elfin Princess she had met all those years ago and the Mated Queen that stood before her now. 

Wait, child…?

“The gypsies are no longer of any consequence; I’ve taken care of all of them. Mention them once, to anyone, and your body will be displayed upon a pike in the center of the courtyard until you die from starvation and I don’t care how long that takes. If you fail in any of the aforementioned I will torture you the likes of which will make Angelus himself cringe. Understand?” 

Darla nodded and Buffy turned to leave. She never looked back; not even when Darla whispered, “I’m so sorry, my queen, and I swear by all the gods in the cosmos that I will find a way to make it up to you.” 

Then again, hadn’t she sworn her allegiance to Buffy? Hadn’t she vowed to help Gunn, Oz, William, and Drusilla in the protection of Buffy and Angelus? She’d failed miserably and now look what happened. 

Now look what she caused.

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