A Child is Born

Pict from Raelyn.

The Birthing Ritual was…archaic. 

It was long and boring, filled with chants and scents that no pregnant woman could stand. It was also part of the Elfin tradition and one that Rupert intended to see his only daughter perform. His only daughter had other ideas. It wasn’t that she shunned her traditions; it was more that she had other things to think on now. 

Like how to get her vampiric kingdom to consent the pomp and circumstance that this ritual was going to bring. Buffy was fairly certain that they’d accept it for the simple fact that they accepted her. Again, that wasn’t the problem. Her big question now was, how to incorporate anything vampiric into something exclusively elfin. It wasn’t easy. 

That was two months ago, and Buffy could still picture Cora’s, the High Priestess, reaction to news she’d embraced without knowing the details. While her priestess and seer didn’t fully understand it all, they stood behind their queen unconditionally, only later demanding a detailed explanation.
~*~
Cora stared at the elfin queen before her in something akin to shocked silence. When Buffy asked to meet with her after the announcement of Angelus’ whereabouts and her pregnancy, Cora agreed instantly, hoping that the other woman finally agreed to speak with someone about Angelus’ disappearance as well. Buffy immediately disabused Cora of that, as she had absolutely no intention of discussing Angelus’ disappearance or Darla’s stint in the dungeons at all. Or with anyone. 

“Vampires do not have children,” Cora said after several moments of silence. 

Buffy smiled at the response, having awaited those very words during the bewildered hush that descended on the room. Cora’s face was priceless, her mouth hanging slightly agape, her eyes large and incredulous, her body utterly still as she tried to process the news. Not bothering to repress a chuckle, Buffy smiled wider at Cora’ disgruntled look. 

“I assure you, Priestess, it is quite possible. I am one quarter of the way through my pregnancy and the child is Angelus’,” Buffy emphasized in case the vampires before her had any notions of somehow causing she or her unborn child harm. 

“What…how…?” 

“He is a master vampire, Priestess,” Buffy stated with conviction. “One of the most powerful Ancients ever to hold that title. I am an elf who wields the powers of two realms. Together we’ve created a child who will one day rule this land.” 

“I didn’t believe…” Cora trailed off suddenly smiling. “When the seers told of this child, I did not believe, they predicted a powerful heir to the Aurelius throne, one to unite the lands. I confess, my Queen,” Cora said as she stood only to kneel before Buffy’s chair, “I did not believe them. This is incredible news, and I shall do everything in my power to protect and guide this child.” 

Such simple acceptance, Buffy mused, her thoughts immediately straying to Angelus. Why couldn’t her husband…but that was a well tread path of her thoughts, and one she had no time for. Not now, not until she’d secured her position. Until then the lives of her and her child were in danger. 

“My father,” Buffy said instead, “Is coming within two months to perform the Elfin Birthing Ritual. It’s long, complicated, and very elfin in nature, with many of our sacored magicks used as well. I need to make it more sympathetic to vampiric rituals, Priestess.” 

Numbly Cora nodded. “This is the first time something like this has happened. But then,” she added with a smile, “This is also the first time an Ancient has mated in eons, and with someone outside the Vampire Lands…? You and our King are certainly firsts for several things. I’ll need to research this, my queen, and see what or how I can change it to accommodate you.” 

“Speak with my sister, Priestess. Tara will know all you need and will help you change anything possible. I want it elfin, for I am half elf and my child will know her heritage,” Buffy stressed to the Priestess. “But I have no wish to ignore her vampiric heritage, either. If she is to be my heir, I want her accepted by all.” 

Cora nodded as she stood, bowing her leave to Buffy. There was much to do and only a limited number of weeks in which to do it. A child, she thought as another smile brightened her smooth face. A child born of a vampire and an elf, one who was destined to unite the lands in peace, it was amazing. Long black hair flowing behind her, Cora exited the castle, her golden eyes sparkling with excitement. 

This was the beginning of the new era, a start to all Lir told her of, and more she could feel it. The air hummed with things and Cora looked forward to seeing what secrets her world was ready to tell. If only Angelus was here, she thought. Where was their Ancient and King? Had he left Buffy, as some rumors suggested, or had something truly terrible befallen him as Buffy announced? Darla returned weeks ago and was currently held within Buffy’s dungeons, weak and neglected from what Cora learned. Had the sire somehow harmed the childe? It wasn’t unheard of, but for one of Angelus’ power, it was highly unlikely. 

Cora hoped that, wherever Angelus was, he returned to them, especially Buffy, and soon. If this child was indeed the one prophesized, he or she would need all the protection available. 

That had been weeks ago, and now the Elfin entourage was hours away. Buffy wasn’t ready, but everyone else seemed to be. Cora, Lir, Tara, and Drusilla made appropriate changes to the ceremony that Deandra, High Priestess of the Elfin Land, incorporated into the rite. Buffy didn’t ask what those changes were, she didn’t care, didn’t want to know. 

For the moment her kingdom was stable, rallying around she and the baby, preparing for the Birthing Ritual and seeing to it that everyone in every other kingdom knew that they supported their Queen and Ancient. Not one attempt had been made on anyone from Aurelius, and far from making Buffy complacent, it worried her. Something was brewing and she had no idea what it was. 

“Damn you, Angelus, you were supposed to be here.” Buffy whispered in the silence of her main audience chambers, a hand straying to the mound that was her unborn child. “You were supposed to be with me for the birth of our child.” 

There was, as usual, no response from her husband except for the faint pulse of undying love through their bond. Great, he could love her, but he couldn’t be with her. There was, as far as Buffy was concerned, absolutely no logic in that. 

Standing, the queen prepared to greet her guests, dressed simply in a white gown, neck bare, with her wedding band and the necklace holding the Symbol of Aurelius as her only adornments. Ade-Aman, her faithful gryphon, flew behind her, casting his glowing yellow eyes around the corridor as Oz and Gunn fell in step beside Buffy.
~~~~~~~~~~
Angelus was running.

He’d been running for a very long time and didn’t know how to stop now. He couldn’t go back, that much he knew, but he couldn’t go forward, either. The screams of his past wouldn’t leave him alone; the taunts of his centuries of deeds wouldn’t let him forget. Buffy continued to pacify him in sleep, but she had other things to see to now. 

Things that were his responsibility, things he should be there to see to. His kingdom, his people, his wife. His child.

What kind of father would he make now? One with a soul, one who’d be an outcast among his own kind, one who couldn’t keep order because he had a conscious for the first time in forever. Aurelius expected their Ancient to be strong; they expected him to lead by example, to show all who opposed them that they were Aurelius! The strongest of all the vampire clans, and that any insurgents would not live to see the next sunrise. 

Angelus wasn’t sure he could do that anymore. He was more than sure he could and would kill to protect Buffy and the child, her child, (his child, his) but the Ancient wasn’t so sure about anything or anyone else. So he was trapped in a vicious cycle, one where he desperately wanted, needed, to go back to his kingdom, his wife for he missed her more than he ever imagined. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t return to the Lands because of the soul those gypsies cursed him with. 

Gypsies who were now dead, Angelus knew. Buffy saw to that, saw to it that they were slaughtered for what they did to him, for the pain and suffering they put him through, for the fact that they took him away from her, from the kingdom, from their child. Theirs, their child, his child. Part of him cringed at what his wife did to the humans, the soul, the conscious, crying out in distress and sympathy. Part of him couldn’t help but ignore the soul, trying desperately to revert to who he was before venturing into the mortal realms. 

The sun was rising now and Angelus needed to hurry if he wanted to find shelter before the rays singed him. He was immune to several things most vampires were not, due to his status, strength, the fact that he lived in the Land of Light for untold centuries, and his own ancient yet limited magicks from his original people, the Tuatha De Danann. Holy objects and stakes were one, he seemed able to enter and leave all dwellings at will, but the sunlight here fried him, as the sun in his kingdom had not. Another thing Angelus missed, the fact that he could wakeup to the sunlight slanting across his bed, shinning brightly on Buffy’s slim bronzed form. 

Buffy, it all came back to Buffy. Well, Angelus thought as he ducked into an abandoned warehouse on the docks of Riga. It only made sense; Buffy was his world, one he desperately needed again. It was a shame, his second to last thought was, that he would never burden her with a husband who was the antithesis of everything she loved. 

His last thought was much simpler, and heard across the realms and through their bond. 

“I love you, Buffy.”
~~~~~~~~~~
Buffy lay on a soft cot, Drusilla standing in for Angelus as the closest childe to her husband. 

On either side stood Oz and Gunn, with William and Tara next to them, one vampire and one elf on either side. At her feet were her father and brothers. Cora and Deandra stood side by side, as they prepared to begin the Birthing Ritual, specially modified for Buffy’s unusual circumstances. The concept was simple, if the ritual was not; the object was to ensure that the child receive her full powers and that, until such a time as she could defend herself, no evil touch her. 

The first years were crucial in that, as that would be when the baby was most vulnerable to outside influences. After that, every year the effects of the protection magicks of the Ritual would diminish until she fully came into her powers during her First Birth Rite some twenty-five years hence. 

It took three days and required Buffy to eat only simple, bland food, much to Cook’s consternation; Francesca insisted that her Queen eat the best the kingdom had to offer and now that she was with child, Buffy was to eat more. She glowered the entire time she made Buffy’s meals, but did as instructed, not willing to endanger either Buffy or the child in any way. Plus, the watchful eye of Buffy’s large pet gryphon unnerved her. 

A constant stream of words were repeated throughout the three days, with no one getting any sleep during that time. It was believed that should one member sleep, a sliver of the dark arts could enter the unborn child, thus endangering her future. Also during this time, the High Seers – Lir and her elfin counterpart Javan, made their predictions for the child’s destiny. Half the kingdom was currently outside the Holy Mount Temple, awaiting the beginning of the ritual, while the rest would come and go during the days, lending their support to their queen and satisfying their own curiosity. 

Oz and William each grasped one of Buffy’s hands while Drusilla placed her cool hands on either side of Buffy face, leaning low over the elfin queen and looking directly into her eyes. Dru’s golden eyes were hypnotizing, but other than the fact Buffy was immune to such paltry tricks, they weren’t Angelus’ and nothing could compare to his. Rupert and each of her brothers touched a single hand to a part of her legs, lending their powers and strength and love to her and the child. 

Once the incantations began it couldn’t stop, and pitchers of blood and water were ready for the servant girls to serve when called for. With everyone in position, Buffy felt her insides clench and suddenly Angelus was there, through their bond, lending his own support, though he was far away, only believed that this child was his half the time, and had, in effect, left her to fend for herself. 

Angelus didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep the moment Buffy lay on the cot, and wouldn’t realize that he slept the three days the ritual required until he woke after the ritual. But while inside their bond, he loved Buffy and knew, intimately, what the ritual involved. He lent his own power, limited magicks, and love to the child, seeing that her safety was ensured even if he wasn’t there. 

Buffy smiled, closing her eyes and allowing herself to drift in the dream-bond with Angelus. Drusilla leaned over her sire’s eternal and lightly kissed her lips, whispering, “He loves you, my queen, and he knows; even if he cannot accept it, he knows.” 

Buffy smiled and waited. 

“Gathered here are we, to see that the child of Buffy, Elfin Queen to the Kingdom Aurelius, Eternal, mated wife, of Angelus, Ancient of the Kingdom Aurelius, meets her destiny with the powers granted her by fate, love, hope, and us. She is the child of an elf and a vampire, each parent with their own powers and strengths that will combine into her, the Daughter of Aurelius. 

“All gathered are here freely, willing to offer her their own power so that she might stand strong and able in the face of her enemies, in the face of Aurelius’ enemies. Her father, Angelus, offers all he is, her mother, Buffy, offers all she is, Rupert, King of Elves, Drusilla, childe of Angelus, offer all they are, let these energies combine.” 

For three days this chant, along with others, echoed throughout the temple. There were mantras calling on both elfin and vampiric magicks to pull the charmed essence of each of the gathered into the child and others to see to Buffy’s health and well-being during the pregnancy. There was one where Angelus, though not physically present, agreed, through the bond with Buffy and, inexplicably, through Drusilla, to protect the child from any harm. 

To the second, three days after everything began, it stopped, magicks still swirling in the charged air. A hush fell across everyone, inside and outside of the temple as they waited the next step. 

Buffy smiled at the assembled vampires, nodding once to them as Oz and Gunn surrounded her, leading her away from the temple. The next step was to have a quiet, trouble free pregnancy with little to no outside problems. She didn’t have high hopes for that.
**********  
Elfin pregnancies lasted one year.

Vampires did not have pregnancies. 

An elf pregnant by a vampire was such a rare occasion that it never occurred to those who experienced it to record anything for posterity. Why? Because it was, by nature, a very private thing, just as the bonding ceremony; those who experienced it didn’t talk about it because it was intensely personal and private and no one’s damn business but their own. 

Buffy wanted to kill each and every one of them because she had no frame of reference to go by. Not that she was about to record her body’s reactions, her level of magickal power, her cravings or, and did people really want to know this? Her weight gain. She may grumble about the lack of information about such pregnancies, but she wasn’t about to tell anyone about her own. 

Which didn’t stop her from sending discrete inquires into all the lands and any other place she could think of, to find any elf that may have been pregnant by a master vampire. So far, the search yielded no one, though there was a rumor that the last elf to give birth to a half vampire child had recently died. Buffy was forced to wonder how anyone knew that this pregnancy was possible when no one could find more than the most basic of proof that it was. Still Buffy looked, just in case. 

Just as well she didn’t find anyone, as Buffy couldn’t fathom talking to a complete stranger, either. It was a quandary she desperately wanted to blame on Angelus, but didn’t. She had far too many emotions coursing through her to isolate a simple one and lay the blame on her husband. 

Her father was still in the Aurelius Kingdom, having vowed to see to her needs as he would if she were still in his kingdom. Tara was there as well, and Kynan and their children. Neither were much help with her ‘special circumstances’ and most days, Buffy wanted to scream. She didn’t, her magicks too closely tied to her emotions, but the entire situation had everyone on edge. 

At the moment, Drusilla and William were on the hill, playing with Ossian, Conaire, and Mavourna, Tara and Kynan’s children, as Buffy watched from her window, trying to calm the unreasonable jealously that engulfed her at the sight of the five of them so carefree. Though not that long ago, Buffy vividly remembered feeling that happy and free, and wanted, desperately, that same for her daughter. 

Resting a hand on her growing belly, the queen leaned against the windowsill, lost in memories. Closing her eyes, Buffy could almost believe Angelus was behind her, his strong arms wrapping around her and their child, his mouth against her neck, his hard body a solid presence against her. The constant that was their joined link a comforting pulse between them. 

“I miss you, Angelus,” Buffy whispered, “So much. Please, come home.” 

As always, she received no answer. Their bond was stronger than ever, a side effect of the child Buffy carried, but most days Angelus blocked that out as much as he could; only at night did his defenses drop and Buffy could pretend, for a while, that nothing changed when everything had.

Darla still resided in the dungeons, wallowing in filth and misery as Buffy tried not to think about her. William and Drusilla were even more protective now than before, refusing to leave the kingdom unless Buffy specifically sent them on an errand. Oz and Gunn worked out a schedule with Nicholaus so that at all times one of the three were with her. Oz, bless his loyalty, always stayed with Buffy when she slept, when the bond with Angelus was fully opened, and when she was most likely to sob her heart out or cry out his name. 

She was certain he never told even Gunn of her sometimes desperate dreams. 

Neither he nor Gunn said anything, ever, about the queen and her state of affairs, and Buffy was immensely grateful for that. It was bad enough they knew the truth behind Angelus’ disappearance; she didn’t need their pity as well. She needed their loyalty and strength, and their guidance for the coming months…years. However long it was until either Angelus realized he needed to return, or Buffy found him and forcibly returned him to where he belonged. 

“Don’t think I won’t find you, lover,” Buffy smirked as she felt their daughter kick in agreement. “Between the two of us, there’s no place to hide.” 

Feeling the tug of their bond, almost as if her threat, lovingly made as it was, called to him, Buffy didn’t resist as sleep pulled her into Angelus’ arms. Walking to the bed where she spent so many wonderful hours with her beloved husband, Buffy stripped naked and slid under the soft sheets, already anticipating his presence. 

Their daughter stirred as well, adding her unvoiced argument for her father to return home. Through Buffy’s bond with Angelus, the child they created knew of things neither parent would ever have told her. It was a knowledge she’d put to good use in the future. 

Bond-Angelus was much more understanding than Awake-Angelus. The Angelus that met her in their dreams accepted the child as his, and continued to worship Buffy’s body as he had for a decade. While the Angelus who wandered the mortal realms tried not to think of the child, not yet ready to accept her as his own, this Angelus did. He knew the babe was a product of magicks and love, of him and Buffy, and, delving into dangerous maudlin territory, couldn’t help the feeling of love and protectiveness that ran through him at the thought of the child. 

And Angelus wanted to name her now. 

“Where are you?” Buffy asked as she always did, turning under the bright sunlight of the oceanside where she found herself. Waves crashed along a sandy beach, unnamable birds soared overhead and called to their mates. A soft breeze encircled them in warm fingertips as far off trees waved their hellos.   

“Ireland,” Angelus answered, kissing her deeply. She was naked to his sight, all bronzed skin and golden hair and he thought he’d never seen a more beautiful sight.  

“Again,” but it was a sigh as he moved down her body, kissing her protruding belly, whispering endearments to the child within.  

“It’s a magickal place, my love,” Angelus whispered to Buffy as he continued to kneel in the sunlit sand that was not a part of the country of his birth. “I’m closer to you here than anywhere.”  

“Except,” Buffy added, compelled to try, as she always was, to get him to return to her, “With me. Come home, love, please.”  

With one final kiss on her bare stomach, Angelus tugged on her hands, pulling her to lay beside him on a blanket that he’d conjured specifically for them. “Ireland,” he said instead, not answering her, as they both knew he wouldn’t. “Has many myths, many I’ve forgotten over the years. They still worship the old ways, love,” Angelus continued as his hands explored the changes in her body. “No matter what or who they worship now, they still have strong ties to the past.”  

Sighing in resignation and pain, Buffy asked, “How long have you been there?”  

“Several months, at least. But you know me, I like to move around.”  

He didn’t and they both knew it. Since meeting her, Angelus was very rarely restless, preferring to stay by his wife’s side and in the kingdom they both ruled. But by telling her where he was in the realms, Angelus also knew Buffy would send his childer after him, would try to bring him back, by force if necessary, to the kingdom.  

“I heard a name the other day,” Angelus said, changing the subject and trying not to think about how tempted he was to let her find him. “One that I think would be perfect for our daughter.”  

“I thought you decided on Amira.” Buffy went with the change because there was no other way. She hated it, hated that he’d rather run from her than to her, that he’d stay away during this time when he was needed in their kingdom, but didn’t voice those things.  

Even if she dispatched anyone now, it’d take them time to reach this Ireland, time to find Angelus, and by then the sun would have set and her husband would be long gone from the place. Buffy made a mental note to herself to have a map drawn of the mortal realms as soon as possible. She wanted to know the places her husband went.  

“It does mean princess, but this one means golden one. And she should be named after her mother, don’t you think?”  

Buffy’s breath caught and she turned over to look at Angelus. The look in his eyes was different, true, held sadness and pain she’d never seen there before, but deep down, where only she could see, Buffy knew that he was still her Angelus, here, in this bond induced dream, he was still her husband.  

“Ariana,” Angelus said with a smile and a soft kiss.  

“It’s beautiful,” Buffy whispered with a smile, willing him to come back to her in time for the naming ceremony.

“Yes, but not as beautiful as her mother.”

With that, Angelus kissed Buffy once more, pouring all his passion, all his love into that kiss, knowing that it’d be months before they were together like this again. It didn’t take a lot to overpower the guilt that was the newly returned soul, the soul was as weak when it came to Buffy as the demon, but it took a lot to maintain the link with her. The soul loved the elf, in his own way, but shied away from her because she reminded him of the horrors of the past.  

At night, while the soul slept, Angelus tried to remind both himself and his new alter ego of the things that mattered. It was hard, he felt torn, like two separate entities that couldn’t find a way to meld together.  

Aside from killing those who’d dishonored him, who threatened his kingdom, life, or wife, not necessarily in that order, and torturing any who tried to do the above, Angelus’ new thing was to remind the soul that Buffy and their child were what was important. Angelus hadn’t the strength to overpower the soul’s hold on the shared body, but he was mentally strong enough to berate said soul. It was, unbelievably, the soul who didn’t believe the babe Buffy carried was his.  

Angelus knew the truth in Buffy’s words, had known that truth when the vindictive gypsies forced the soul back into the body that had long ago rejected it. A vampire wasn’t meant to be both demon and soul; the paradox was enough to send entire dimensions into chaos. Still, with everything else the soul had to endure, with the remembered shouts, pleas, whimpers for a spared life, with thousands of years of plaguing the Lands and various realms worth of victims, the soul just couldn’t handle Buffy, the one being who was supposed to be this combined being’s world, too.  

In his own way, the waste that was the soul loved Buffy, loved their wife, wanted, needed, and craved her with the intensity Angelus did. But the facts wouldn’t convince the slightly crazed and nearly logical soul. Angelus accepted the baby because he knew Buffy; after that little, ah, misunderstanding, he knew that everything she said was true. Knew because he knew his wife, knew himself, and knew that no one, no matter who may have wanted to, had ever, ever, touched her. 

The child was his. The soul couldn’t accept that because it couldn’t accept anything in this new life. It was a constant sore issue for the being who housed both soul and demon and one that drove the body ever onward in an attempt to outrace thoughts and feelings. There was one thing they agreed on, however, both soul and demon. They couldn’t return to the Lands, or to Buffy, as they were now. The soul because he wanted, desperately, to rid himself of the demon, and the demon, because he refused to return to his kingdom and wife infected with a blasted soul.  

“Make love to me,” Buffy’s soft voice interrupted Angelus’ thoughts and he was only too happy to comply. 

In a rare show of the love and affection he felt for her, Angelus slowly explored Buffy, kissing her from head to toe only to move back up her body. She cried out his name, as she so often had in the past, and when he finally entered her, careful of the mound that was the child, even the screams of the soul were quiet.  

When Angelus awoke the next evening, when the sun set and the humans scurried back to their hovels, he left Ireland, vowing to return again. It was the land of his birth, if not his life. There was a connection there he wasn’t entirely sure of, but one he needed when he felt so adrift in this new life he’d been cursed with. 

‘I love you, Buffy,’ he thought as he made his way to the nearest town and the closest docks, searching for a ship to take him away from the island. And it was both demon and soul who thought that, felt that love. 

Buffy smiled in her sleep, feeling both deprived of her lover and joyous at his admission. She wouldn’t bother sending anyone to him this time, knowing that it’d be a waste. And she needed everyone here with her during her pregnancy. Security had tripled and no one entered or left the kingdom without permission. It was a law Oz and Gunn approved, though the council suggested it. 

With Buffy as their leader, nothing was to happen to her. Even if it meant leaving their Ancient in the mortal realms.

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