Summary ~ Tara Maclay escapes her abusive family and finds herself wounded at Rosenburg Castle, home to Willow, who has never known anything but loneliness. AU
Distribution ~ I really don't care just as long as it gets read. Just ask first.
Disclaimer ~ The characters are not mine and belong to their respective owners. I just play with them. The story, however, is mine.
Feedback ~ I appreciate anything
Thanks ~ To my kitten chat buddies. And to my wonderful beta and Bestie, Astron
Notes ~ Little to no angst in this one...its fluffy...you're going to need it....
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Chapter 3 - WordsThe next day, Willow had woken, still wrapped around Tara. She had disentangled herself gently and left the room to go outside. Willow needed room to think, room to breathe. When Tara was near, she clouded the redhead’s mind.
The redhead walked around the grounds, not seeing the beautiful scenery or the horse that she stopped in to feed. She absently pet Jack’s nose and went on her way. She wound her way around the gardens and picked herself some flowers. Willow’s subconscious led her to where she always inevitably wound up: Morgan’s resting place.
“Morgan,” Willow began, placing the flowers at the foot of the pale stone. “There are so many words to say, yet nothing at all. Always, when I believe I cannot miss you more, the next day its worse. Baby, you taught me so much of love, of life. Knowing how it can be, I want to be with her. Knowing the pain, knowing how it can end, will most likely end…how can I? How can I let myself go through that again? How can I put her at risk by loving her?”
Willow sighed, beginning to trace the words embedded in the stone: Walk with the Goddess and find Solace in her Compassion. It had been words said to Willow numerous times within Morgan’s last few months. Morgan would get a sad look on her face, without explanation or reason, and say those words again. It was almost as if she knew something was coming.
Almost as if….
Willow gasped and her hand stilled its silent mantra. “You knew. You knew all that time. Morgan, you had a vision and didn’t tell me? What did you see? Only your death, or Tara also? Is that why you told me these words so many times?” Willow let out a breath of frustration and stood. “I grow tired of questions that cannot be answered. I will visit again soon, love, when I have a more clear head.” She walked away, her steps heavy and her head bowed.
Willow looked in on Tara but the blonde was still sleeping, so the redhead went to her own room and gathered her journal and several different colored inks. She could work things out better if she wrote them out. Willow was a very organized list-maker. She finished gathering her things and went to sit at the desk in Tara’s room. The redhead wanted to be there when the blonde woke.
After setting out her writing tools, she began to outline everything that had happened before and after Morgan’s death. Nothing there seemed to make anything “click” in her head, so she started dissecting the words that Morgan had told her. Willow wrote each word out in different colors, making them stand out more. Once she had that done; she put down her things, staring at the words willing enlightenment. Every sound and movement around her went quiet, nothing existed to her but those words. So focus was she that she did not hear Tara wake, or call out to her. Each word jumped out at her; first alone, then with other words. Two words kept catching her attention together; no matter how many times she moved on to different combinations, she always came back to these two words: Goddess and Compassion.
Tara watched as Willow carefully placed her head in her hands; she opened her connection with Willow the way her mother had taught her and almost cried out with the intensity of Willow’s emotions. There was so much sorrow within the redhead’s tiny body, Tara called out to her again, wanting to go to her, but Willow did not hear. She struggled to stand but it was useless with her broken leg. Tara settled back into the cot; concentrating, slowly, a small, warm light began to flicker in front of her. She closed her eyes, and in her mind she pushed the light towards Willow. The little light danced around Willow’s slumped shoulders, playing with her hair. Willow still did not look up until the little light began to caress her cheek. Tara’s light pulled back a little and the redhead moved to touch it, giggling when the light danced around her fingers.
Tara’s eyes shot open when Willow giggled; the redhead had laughed. It was the first time the blonde had heard it; the sound was like music, playing over and over in her head. Willow turned to look at Tara, her green eyes dancing with mirth. The redhead sent her a bright smile; Tara swore that her heart stopped, she smiled back shyly, not understanding what she was feeling. Willow had the most beautiful smile; the smile was gone almost as soon as it had appeared as the light moved towards the papers Willow had been writing on.
Tara let go of the spell and asked, “What were you working on?”
Willow sighed, looking back down at the paper, “Trying to decipher something that Morgan told me. I realized today that she had experienced a vision of what was going to happen. She kept telling me over and over, and I can’t figure out the message!” The redhead noticed that she had unknowingly underlined the two words several times. She picked up the journal and brought it with her as she went to sit by Tara.
Tara took a look at it, holding back a laugh at the quirkiness of Willow’s organization; the laugh died in her throat as she read the words. “She t-told you this?”
“Yes. She started telling me this at odd moments months before she died.”
“Why…why did you mark these words specifically?”
“I’m not sure, they just seemed to stand out to me more than the others. Why?”
“Goddess and compassion,” Tara said quietly, as if to herself. “The Goddess of compassion?” Tara audibly gulped. “I was named after her.”
“Tara,” Willow whispered. “What does this mean?”
“I have no idea, Willow. I am sure we will find out,” Tara said, her confusion evident in her voice. She shifted uncomfortably; she was starting to feel the aches from staying in one spot for days.
“What is it? Are you okay? Do you want to leave? Does this make you uneasy? I shouldn’t have told you. I mean, its not as if you don’t have a choice, you can-”
Tara cut off Willow’s babble with a finger to the redhead’s lips. “Shh, Willow. Calm down. I don’t want to leave. I am just achy from laying here too long. I want to move,” Tara explained.
“Oh,” Willow said, immediately understanding. “Would you like to go outside? The gardens are in bloom.”
“I’d love that, Willow. However, I can’t stand,” Tara said with a small smile.
“You don’t have to. If you’ll let me?” Willow stood and gestured to Tara.
“Willow, no. I’m bigger than you, I’ll-”
Willow interrupted, “As much as I’d like to be able to carry you, I meant using my magic, Tara.”
Tara felt her stomach do flips at Willow’s words; she imagined herself in Willow’s arms, slim but strong arms that would hold her safe. Tara knew that if she was in Willow’s arms, she would always be safe. She shook away the images in her head. Willow misunderstood the shake of Tara’s head and frowned.
“You don’t want me to take you outside?”
Tara laughed, “Of course I do, Will.”
The redhead’s confusion was lost when she heard Tara use her nickname, smiling she used her magic to lift Tara gently from the cot. Willow gathered up the blankets and followed Tara, who was floating in front of her, cradled in the air by Willow’s power. They wound their way through the castle and the grounds, making their way to the gardens. Tara looked around her in amazement; the castle and the grounds were amazingly well kept, for only having two women living there.
They found their way into the garden; Willow laid out the blanket and set Tara down gently. The blonde was speechless as she looked around at the blooming flowers; there was a riot of colors and smells assaulting her senses. There were multiple colors of roses, the soft purples of Hollyhock, the drooping buds of Belladonna Lilies, Begonias resting at the feet of bushes, Yellow Cosmos, and many others that Tara could not name; she felt a sense of peace enter her and turned to look at Willow, who was giving her a very intense look.
“Its beautiful, Willow. Thank you,” Tara said reverently.
“You’re beautiful,” Willow blurted out, then blushed. She smacked a hand over her mouth as her face turned as red as her hair. Tara’s head fell back as a full-throated laugh bubbled out. Willow stared in awe.
“Thank you,” Tara repeated once she had calmed down, she couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed like that. Willow brought something out inside her that she couldn’t describe or recognize. Tara suddenly realized that she was feeling something she hadn’t felt since she was very young. Even with the shadow of what her father had done and might do in the future hanging over her, even with what seemed like an infallible destiny between the two women, Tara felt happy.
“How do you take care of all this?” Tara asked.
“With Buffy’s help. We keep ourselves busy. The flowers are easy; I bring them from the earth. Most of them are not native to this region, but they bring me peace.”
Tara nodded; they fell into a companionable silence, observing the beauty around them. They didn’t even fight their urges to look at each other often. Usually when one looked at the other, the other would be looking away. For reasons unknown to Tara, she couldn’t help but watch Willow. Every time she looked at the redhead, she noticed something different, such as the slope of Willow’s long neck; hidden by her hair. Tara watched as Willow giggled at a hummingbird, noticing the adorable way Willow pushed her tongue against her teeth as she laughed. There was a growing list of things about Willow that she found adorable or beautiful.
Willow heard Tara let out a wistful sigh, turning her head to see the blonde watching her. They’re eyes locked; both women could hear their pulses pounding in their ears. Blue met green and neither looked away. The moment was intense as they stared into each other’s eyes, their souls bared for the other to see. Tara felt a fluttering in her chest; Willow felt the same.
The redhead finally found meaning in the words Morgan had given her. They were permission, advice, and a goodbye all wrapped together. Willow decided in that moment, as she drowned in Tara’s eyes, that she would let herself live, let herself love again. New life flooded through her; she would take the steps needed to be happy again; she would stop going from day to day wishing for a way out. Now she would go from day to day looking forward to every breath she took, every moment spent with this beautiful soul.
Tara didn’t understand the feelings coursing through her body. It was a new experience, yet she felt happy. She was confused, elated by the rapid beat of her heart; these new feelings were something she wanted to feel forever. She was happy that it was Willow who brought these emotions to her. Tara could see what she was feeling reflected in the deep emerald eyes that stared back at her.
They stared for what felt like hours, yet it was only moments; moments that changed the lives of the two women. The stare was broken by the hummingbird zipping between them and they laughed together, going back into their comfortable silence. The women stayed that way for another hour or so before Buffy came out to join them, bringing food.
They shared the companionship and the food, all three enjoying each other’s company as they talked of trivial things. Even after the food was long gone, they stayed outside. Buffy noticed that something pivotal had happened between the two witches; she was happy for her best friend. It had been too long since she had seen a genuine smile on Willow’s face.
The day started to grow cold so they moved back inside, as they walked there was a new spring to Willow’s step. Tara reached out from where she was floating, putting her hand in Willow’s; the redhead unconsciously entwined their fingers together as she focused on making sure Tara got to her room safely. Tara was exhausted from the outing, falling asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. Willow smiled at her, brushing the blonde hair away from Tara’s face.
She leaned in and placed a kiss on Tara’s forehead, whispering, “Sweet dreams, my gold one.” Leaving Tara, she glided from the room; back outside, where she went to thank Morgan for the gift she had received in the knowledge that Morgan had known Tara would come, had known Willow would find love, and not only did she accept it, she had encouraged it.