The Hellebore series (currently: 'Day by Day')

[Arwen276]

*pouting*

I wanna wake up like that!!!!



All the sexiness put aside, I'd say they seem to be settling into their lives , waking up, going to work, then lunch, then work, then home...nice rut!

Of course both of their works are pretty interesting, I especially like the unusual stuff Willow brings home...



and their unusual use...



I loved the picnic setting, I also loved the constant need they have for one another.

And 25 days? they seemed more like 2 years 5 months!

(cos 25 years would make them old and wrinkly)



I'm not going to comment on the whole bedroom scene...that was just WOW!



~Arwen



ps: nice bedroom drawing, you used the Sims furniture? I loved the whole Castle like stuff you put in there ,umm would you do one of the adjoining bathroom?

Hear That Baby? You're My Always... Willow

[sabina]

I'm late again with the feedback... But this time it wasn't my fault... I swear... Stupid "last-minute-panic" that leads me to study like a mad woman in the night before my exams



I loved the picnic It was sweet and beautiful.

It's great to see them settling down for some time and have a normal life for a while



About the spheres I just have one thing to say: Hot.







More?

---

"I know I was born and I know that I'll die.

The in between is mine.

I am mine!" - Pearl Jam

[2DIAMONDS]

Hey Chris! Happy Valentine's Day!



I've been missing in action lately, I know Just kinda got wrapped up in the real world and meeting someone special But I just wanted to say hey and of course worship this fic! I loved the last two updates! After all our ladies have been through, thye definitely deserve what they have now. Loved the "toy." Oh! And big smooch for coming through on the anniversary date!



Helen

xoxoxo

[Karmah]

Hi

I just read this fic and I have to say its amazing. I love your writing style and some of the lines you use while writing it were amazing, to be honest I wasn't sure about reading it, but everyone was like no "its all that and a bag of chips," so I read it and now I see they were right. great fic. Now I have dishes laundry and house work from the last three days where I was glued to the cpu, so I'll shall reply more latter. Thanks Again hope to read more soon.

Arron

She walks in beauty, Like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that's best of dark and bright. Meet in her aspect and her eyes.

~ by Byron ~

[Artemis]

Hi everyone, and thanks Well, that was the Valentine's Day chapter, I hope you all enjoyed it. I didn't plan it that way, but it turned out that Willow's picnic turned up now, so... Anyway, the next chapter is underway, about half finished (assuming it doesn't go pages long like the last few have shown a tendency to do), so that should be done by this time tomorrow.



Firesign: Heh, yeah, the spheres... I decided, once it became apparent that this would be a no-holds-barred erotic story, rather than just a saucy romance, that I had to have at least one magical sex toy, because otherwise I'd always regret not taking the opportunity Unfortunately, I have no idea where you might be able to find them, but keep an eye out, you never know what they'll think of next.



Lt Sticks: Thanks



Grimlock: Yep, smart people... not that that was anything like what Myrreon had in mind when he made those spheres, of course. I'm not saying there *aren't* actual purpose-made medieval magical sex toys around somewhere...



Tara's patience will be an asset when she's instructing, as well as her superior observational skills. The soldiers already know how to use a sword (a short sword being a standard sidearm for them, even if they're archers by trade) and anyway that's not Tara's area of expertise, as she's only got a passing familiarity with swords. But being able to aim and fire quickly could help - if you've got three enemies running at you, being able to shoot one of them and still have time to draw your sword could be the difference between a fighting retreat and a quick death. The training area is fairly large, and most of the army is out north chasing bandits, so there's a fair bit of free room. Lindia's a good horsewoman too, so she can wheel around back and forth across an archery range without needing a whole lot of space on either end to do it. I imagine they have at least two ranges, back to back (so the soldiers fire to either side from the centre), one for long range stuff - firing high - one for shorter range accuracy practice. Maybe more, I haven't planned out the army compound in great detail.



As with most of the secondary characters, to one degree or another, there are stories behind Zan and Ocean. I don't know how much will be revealed, it just depends on what turns up later on, and whether either of them happen to be standing around when I need someone to do something.



justin: I did actually get the idea from some quantum thingy I read about ages ago (all I remember is that it was used in Deep Space Nine once - ansible twins). My first idea, back when I was wondering whether I would really risk being silly by having a magic sex toy, was just to have the two spheres invisibly linked to each other, the idea of them causing a zone of sensory overlap between them came later.



Ocean is... well, without giving anything away, Willow's basically right, she's half Vipermagus, half human. How she came to be is another story



Arwen: I don't think they'd be *that* old and wrinkly in 25 years they'd only be about 45 (and Sanctuary, at least the advanced parts of it, isn't one of those medieval worlds where 45 is a normal life expectancy). For example, Mariska Hargitay from Law & Order SVU is 40, and she's totally hot. I have no doubt that Willow and Tara will both still be stunning, and no doubt in great shape as well. Plus, they're both mages, and it's a common theme in fantasy worlds that mages age a bit slower than usual. Deckard Cain, whose journal Willow was reading in one of the early chapters, was supposedly very old during Diablo, and he looked pretty well for an ancient guy.



And yeah, who wouldn't want to wake up like that?



That is indeed a Sims room - I took screen captures of the empty room, then all the furniture separately and assembled it all in Photoshop. Unfortunately I can't do the bathroom, because Sims has absolutely nothing that approximates a medieval bathroom. I'm kind of hazy on exactly what it would look like anyway, medieval bathrooms aren't a common sight, compared to bedroms, which tend to get recreated enough that I've got a vague idea what it should look like.



Now, if I could find Sorceress and Amazon outfits for my Willow and Tara Sims, I might be able to come up with something...



sabina: Hi You're not late, don't worry about it. It takes me days to do a new chapter, and besides, any feedback at all is good feedback. Anyway, yeah, I enjoyed showing them having a normal life, and still being all cute and romantic - it's so much fun for both of them that I don't imagine they'd ever get out of the habit of making each day special somehow. And Sanctuary's a big world, so it's not like there's ever going to be a lack of things to see and do.



Heh, everyone likes the spheres. I actually don't intend to use them again in this story - Willow will keep them, and I'm sure she and Tara will play around with them from time to time, but like Tara said, it's not like they *need* them. Then again, it's possible they may show up again - I wouldn't turn it down if I had a good idea for something different, rather than just replaying the same scene again. Anything's possible



Helen: Thanks, I hope you had a happy Valentine's Day as well Yeah, I did have the anniversary idea in mind, though like Willow said, 25 days isn't technically an anniversary of anything except, well, 25 days. But there is still a story going on, so I'm not sure whether they'll have time to stop and have a picnic at their one-month anniversary. I certainly won't say no to the big smooch though



Arron: Hi. Well, I'm glad you found the story enjoyable, to be honest, I still sometimes wonder what the heck I'm doing writing a romance in the Diablo world But it's so much fun...



Anyway, thanks to everyone, and I hope you all keep enjoying the story as it continues tomorrow...

[Artemis]

Hellebore



Author: Chris Cook

Rating: NC-17

Summary: A headstrong sorceress and a young Amazon join forces to locate and destroy an ancient source of demonic power.

Spoilers: None.

Copyright: Based on characters from 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer', created by Joss Whedon and his talented minionators, and 'Diablo II' by Blizzard Entertainment. All original material is copyright 2003 Chris Cook.

Feedback: Please. Here, or to alia@netspace.net.au



--

Chapter Fifty-Three

--



Tara dreamed of Willow.



She was at home, beneath Tran Athulua in what was colloquially called the Forest Basin. High above the branches of the huge trees spread out, reinforced with timber beams, joining together into a gigantic lattice that bore the weight of a whole city. Hundreds of people lived, worked, played and loved, but here, below, there was a serene hush. Light filtered unevenly through the branches and buildings above - not day, not night, not even twilight but a gentle glow, warm and inviting, shafts of brilliant sun lighting the shady glades and trails.



Tara wandered through the trees in the vague way of a dream, moving from one place to another like water flowing down a stream, her senses filled not with colours and forms but with memories, feelings, echoes of her past and the future she hoped for. She knew Willow was here - not by sight or hearing, but she knew her movements would bring them together. Part of her was already there, touching her skin, inhaling her scent.



With a gentle sigh of change the scene shifted to a glade Tara had liked as a child, near Jenavria's house, where flowers bloomed and birds chirped in their nests in the low branches. Willow was there, of course, lying naked on a carpet of moss around the spreading roots of a great oak, smiling up at her. She reached out to Tara with one hand, her other trailing a rose over her body, dipping between her legs, then back up, with her dew gracing the petals. She brought the rose to her lips as Tara lay with her, both of them kissing the petals, tasting, before a sly grin overtook Willow's features, and she tossed the flower aside and pulled Tara into her embrace.



Tara felt her body singing as she lay between Willow's legs, inhaling her scent, tasting her wetness. The glade became a lake, and the lake in turn became Willow, and an endless ocean which Tara floated in, shallow waves lapping at her body. She arched her back and submerged, diving deep into the water, which became Willow again, her core, her soul in liquid. Tara opened her mouth to the taste and breathed her, Willow's arousal sustaining her as she sank even deeper, beyond the need for light or air, or anything of the world. Her legs parted and she felt Willow's warmth caressing her, flowing into her, as all around her the deep waters of Willow's soul pressed in on her, caressing every inch of her body, kissing her, licking her-



-----



Willow moaned in the back of her throat and tried to keep herself from moving too much as Tara's body writhed against hers, and her mouth bestowed all its affection on Willow's breasts, kissing and licking, sucking on a nipple whenever her gentle motions brought her lips near enough. Finally Willow couldn't resist admitting she was awake, and lifted an arm off her pillow to stroke Tara's hair.



"Mmm," Tara purred. Willow giggled involuntarily as she felt Tara's eyelashes stroke against her skin. Tara started slightly, then looked up at Willow and her mild surprise turned to contentment.



"Nice way to wake up," she commented lazily, ending with a gentle yawn.



"Uh-huh," Willow agreed, "were you really asleep that whole time?"



"I was dreaming," Tara said, resting her head on Willow's shoulder. A cheeky grin curved her lips. "Why, was I groping you in my sleep again?"



"I imagine you were," Willow chuckled, "but for at least the last ten minutes you've been kissing my breasts. Most exquisitely, I might add."



"Ten minutes?"



"At least," Willow repeated, "that's how long ago I woke up. After that I was kind of pretending to be asleep, and enjoying the attention," she grinned, "I thought you were already awake."



"I was dreaming," Tara said again, "it was beautiful... I was at home, you were there, then you were all around me, and I was... you were touching me, all over, and inside me, and I was breathing you, my heart was beating for you, it was like you were, were life itself."



"Sounds like a nice dream," Willow smiled. Tara opened her mouth to reply, then bit her lip and instead moved her legs, settling herself down atop Willow's left thigh so that she could feel the wealth of wetness there.



"Ooh," Willow grinned.



"A *very* nice dream," Tara said.



"For me too," Willow added, lifting her free leg over Tara's thigh and pulling it down against her own sex, hot and wet with arousal. "In fact," Willow went on, "if you hadn't done that thing with your eyelashes, I don't know how much longer I could have held myself in check anyway."



"What thing with my eyelashes?" Tara asked. She lay down and batted her lashes against Willow's check, just at the top of her cleavage.



"Oh!" Willow squealed in delight. "Yep, *that* thing... it's like a caress and a tickle all at once. Ahhh... even the tiniest little things you do are so, so... so darned erotic." She rolled over, ending up on top of Tara, who she leaned down and kissed, slowly and thoroughly. Tara opened her lips and settled back luxuriously as Willow's tongue played with hers.



"Lovely Willow-tongue," she murmured to herself, when Willow freed her lips and began kissing her way across her cheek, down to the side of her neck where she nuzzled against the curve of her neck and shoulder, licking her skin. She glanced at the shuttered window, and noticed the light filtering through it was lancing far across the room, rather than slanting downwards.



"What time is it?" she asked idly.



"Early," Willow replied happily, still applying her tongue to Tara's skin between words, "dawn was just a little while ago, I think. We got an early night last night... well, and more than a little snuggling and kissing and ecstatic moaning, but still, I think we managed a couple of hours sleep..."



"I like early nights," Tara mused, "lots of time for making love, *and* we get even more time to ourselves in the morning."



"Best of both worlds," Willow grinned. "So, with all this free time we've got, what do you think we should do before we start the day? Read a book? Go down to the markets and see what they've got fresh for breakfast? Dust the mantelpiece?"



"It's always good to start the day with some exercise," Tara said. Willow giggled.



"Well, isn't it lucky I just happen to have an Amazon warrior here who, I'm told, is an instructor as well. I'm sure she'll know exactly how to keep me fit and active."



"I'm sure she will," Tara said, "of course, you're quite fit already, so let's just concentrate on the 'active' part now."



"Heh," Willow chuckled, "my own personal Amazon workout." Tara smiled and rolled Willow over onto her back, cuddling up to her side.



"So does my instructor have any preferences?" Willow asked. "Or should I just improvise?"



"Improvising is good," Tara said, "but to get started, let's see how you do following a strict exercise routine."



"Strict?" Willow asked, a gleam in her eyes. Tara chuckled and lay her head down next to Willow's, whispering in her ear.



"Very."



"Then I'll put myself in your hands," Willow purred. With a fleeting lick at her ear in parting, Tara sat up and took hold of the covers.



"First, let's see what we've got to work with," she smiled, pulling the bedclothes down to reveal Willow from head to toe. Crouching beside Willow, she very slowly ran her eyes up the length of her body. Willow shivered with anticipation at the naked excitement she saw in Tara's eyes, the shameless, luxurious way her gaze roamed all over her body, taking in her flushed skin, her slightly parted thighs, the gleam of moisture at their apex, the erect nipples still glittering with traces of her kisses.



"*Very* good," Tara murmured, "excellent, in fact."



"I'm glad I meet with my instructor's approval," Willow said with a grin.



"You've obviously taken excellent care of yourself," Tara said seriously, with only a twinkle in her eye giving away the amusement she was finding in their game, "I'd even go so far as to say, you're nothing less than what an instructor would dream of. Now, shall we get started?"



"Ready when you are," Willow said, wriggling her torso slightly.



"Now, when you start to work out," Tara went on, in her playful-serious voice, "it's very important not to just start cold. You have to warm up first. Normally that would mean doing some easy moves to begin with, but in your case," she leaned over Willow, teasing her with her breasts dangling enticingly near her lips, "there's a very special technique I can use to warm you up. Would you like to try it?"



"Instructor knows best," Willow said, trying for the same serious tone in her voice, though the immediate temptation of Tara's breasts so close made her words come out in more of a desperate gasp. Tara smiled widely, nodded, acknowledging Willow's assent, and moved down her body until she was kneeling beside her legs.



"Open wide," she said, brushing a hand over Willow's thigh. Willow obediently parted her legs, stretching out to either side as far as they would comfortably go. Tara raised an eyebrow in approval and crawled over to kneel between her legs, crouching down close to her centre.



"Ready?" she murmured.



"You bet," Willow replied, biting her lip in eager excitement. Tara gave her a grin, then leaned down and, without preamble, pressed her open mouth against Willow's sex, reaching her tongue as deep as she could, swirling and tasting Willow with abandon.



"Oh gods!" Willow shouted, involuntarily thrusting down towards Tara, as if trying to draw more of her in, her slick folds kissing wetly against Tara's lips, her inner muscles clenching desperately. Tara kept Willow writhing for a moment, but drew back before she could gain control of herself and began a rhythm with her hips. She licked her lips, as Willow whimpered beneath her.



"All warmed up?" she asked playfully as she returned to kneel beside Willow.



"Burning hot," Willow gasped. Tara chuckled, delicately licked her fingertip then touched it to Willow's cleavage, making a hissing sound between her teeth.



"Perfect," she smiled as Willow giggled, "now, we begin. First... start slowly. Put your hand flat on your thigh. That's right..." She lay down next to Willow, propping her head up on the pillows so she could whisper in her ear and observe the length of her body at the same time. Willow had obediently put her right hand on top of her thigh, pressing her fingertips lightly into her skin.



"This is very important," Tara whispered, "before any sort of strenuous exercise, an Amazon always takes a moment to concentrate, focus on herself... to experience her body. Even before a battle."



"Am I going into battle?" Willow asked cheekily.



"Oh yes," Tara replied, "a full-fledged assault on your senses... no prisoners taken, no quarter given. Now, just... feel your body. Open yourself to the experience of, of being you... feel the heat inside you... those firm muscles, ready to obey your every command... feel your core waiting, ready for-" she paused. "Well," she said with a chuckle, "we'll get to that, all in good time. Now, do you feel it? Your whole body?"



"Tingling," Willow murmured, closing her eyes.



"Like I said, we don't want to just leap into the most strenuous exercise," Tara said, resting her upper body against Willow's left shoulder, "you're warmed up, but even so, the best way is to build up slowly... So to start, move just one finger... just a little. Just touch your inner thigh, very slowly, very lightly. Stroke, back and forth... back and forth... enjoying that?" Willow nodded, and Tara felt the trembling excitement within her.



"Good... now move your hand up, slowly, until that finger is just about to touch your lips." She watched Willow's hand edge up to the top of her thigh, with her forefinger dipping down towards her sex, and felt her own arousal building with surprising strength. She did her best to put the demanding itch between her thighs out of her mind, and concentrate on Willow.



"Are you close now?" she asked. "So close you'll be touching yourself, if you move just the tiniest fraction? Good... I want you to concentrate very hard now, just on your core... Concentrate on your sex, Willow," she breathed, trying to ignore how much she was turning herself on in the process, "forget everything else, forget the rest of your body. Feel how wet you are... how ready you are... imagine what it will feel like to touch yourself... imagine that fingertip brushing over your folds... close to your clit... becoming moist... Feel how the muscles inside you are pleading, pleading for you to go inside... aching to be touched... nothing else exists... do you feel it?" Willow nodded, a faint sigh escaping her parted lips.



"Good," Tara purred, "excellent... my perfect Willow... Now, I want you to let that feeling spread through your whole body. From your core down, inside your thighs, down your legs to your feet... and up, through your body, through your chest, flowing from inside you into your breasts, along your arms, up into your mind, flooding you... Do you feel it baby? All of you, so ready?" Willow nodded.



"Say it," Tara whispered.



"I-I feel it," Willow gasped, "I f-feel... I-I'm... all over... I need..."



"Now touch," Tara breathed in Willow's ear, "just lightly, just like you imagined... Give your body exactly what it wants, but slowly... so slowly... so you always want more." She watched as Willow's finger moved a fraction, felt the shiver than ran through Willow as she touched herself, and she drew her finger up, the fingertip cresting her mound, touching her clit for a fraction of a second.



"Ah!" Willow gasped, losing contact as her body jolted.



"Now still," Tara said, and Willow lay her trembling hand back on her thigh. Her breathing was deep, her breasts rising and falling beneath Tara's gaze.



"Sensitive?" Tara asked. Willow nodded unsteadily. "Felt good, didn't it?" Again Willow nodded. "You want more, don't you?" Again, nod. "Alright... now slowly, baby... your body needs you. Show it how much you love it... touch yourself again... But don't move this time, just rest your finger against yourself." She heard Willow's breathing quicken, and imagined her fingertip nestling between her folds, poised to taste the warmth within.



"Now move," she whispered, "up and down, little motions... and feel every stroke go a little deeper... part your lips a little more..." She glanced at Willow's face, and smiled at her intense, desperately blissful expression.



"You're beautiful," she murmured, "so beautiful..."



"I love you," Willow whispered. Tara settled in beside her, finding her face far more erotic to watch than the motions of her hand.



"Deeper," she purred, her gaze fixed on Willow's lips as an anticipatory smile tugged at their corners, "deeper now... and feel every muscle... feel every heartbeat as it surges through you..." Willow's lips trembled, opened in a silent sigh of delight. Tara felt her arm move slightly, and knew as if Willow's body were her own what she was doing.



"That's good," she continued, "that's so good... faster now... feel your core grasping at your finger, welcoming it with every thrust... straining to hold it inside every time you draw back... weeping tears of joy for being filled, and caressed... loved..."



"I l-love you," Willow gasped.



"I love you," Tara replied, "now draw back, and hold yourself back... still... that's good." She felt Willow's arm trembling, and didn't have to imagine the temptation she felt to return to her inner warmth. It was only by a great force of will that Tara had been able to ignore the demands of her soaking, pulsing sex. She shivered, feeling tiny beads of moisture trickle out of her, down the insides of her thigh, over her mound.



"Two fingers now," Tara sighed, "this is the key to a good workout, you see." She smiled to herself. "When you've found that place where you feel like you can keep going forever, then you add just a little more... push yourself just a little further... that's how you reach your peak. Reach for me, baby," she whispered, licking Willow's earlobe, "reach into yourself, reach your core."



She felt the motion of Willow's arm as she returned her fingers to her sex, and marvelled at the beauty in her face as she let out an unrestrained moan of pleasure. Tara's own centre throbbed in sympathy as Willow's body rocked with her motions, in and out, gaining pace.



"Good, baby," she breathed, "so good, so beautiful... oh goddess Willow I love you... feel with your whole body baby, don't hold back... don't hold back... faster... rub your clit baby, every stroke, all the way up to your clit, then down and back inside, inside and out, oh goddess baby, do it... do it..." Willow's amorous whimpers were constant now, a stream of aroused sound welling up from her soul with every breath she released. Her body was writhing, in the grip of the rhythm of her hand, and Tara reached around her shoulders, holding on to her.



"Come for me," she whispered, "come for me, my beautiful Willow, make my world perfect, make me come..."



"Yes!" Willow cried out loud, her hips rising completely off the bed as her climax took over. Tara held on to her, aroused beyond belief, and between her own clenching thighs her core released its flood of pleasure. Willow gasped and moaned aloud, caressing her folds as her juices saturated her thighs and her hand, turning her head to search for Tara's lips, and claiming them the moment she found them. Tara held nothing back, letting Willow feel the full measure of how wholly, hopelessly aroused she had become.



"Mmm," Willow moaned into Tara's mouth, rolling over and embracing her, pressing their bodies together. Her hand, soaked from her own climax, gently explored Tara's moistened sex, bringing on a series of delightful tremors that shook her whole body. She then brought her fingers to their joined lips, adding the taste of both their orgasms to their mouths. Tara felt she would cry from pleasure, and even when Willow finally released her lips and lay her head on her chest, she remained in a state of ecstasy, sighing and whimpering, licking the mingled tastes from her lips.



"You know," Willow said, once Tara had rode out her post-orgasmic bliss, "if all those soldiers you're teaching at the barracks find out the kind of exercises you give *me*, they're going to be severely jealous." Tara chuckled, and in the warmth of their shared pleasure her chuckle overtook her and infected Willow until they were both clutching at each other laughing.



"So you liked your Amazon workout, then?" Tara asked when she had managed to calm down.



"Oh yeah," Willow grinned, wriggling her body against Tara's, "I can feel it doing me a world of good. I take it this is an ongoing programme?"



"Definitely," Tara replied, adopting her mock-serious instructor's voice again, "best results are achieved with a consistent regimen - daily, or if you like, even more frequent."



"Sounds good to me," Willow said, rolling on top of Tara and cuddling up to her, "I'll take one lifetime's worth."



"You've got a deal," Tara replied, her voice full of meaning and contentment.



"Aw," Willow sniffled, grinning all the while, "gonna cry now..."



"I love you," Tara whispered, gently turning Willow's face up to hers.



"I know," she replied, "a-and I love you so much..." She pressed a tender kiss to Tara's lips, tears spilling calmly from her eyes and trailing down her cheeks. With a radiant smile she hugged Tara tightly and buried her face in the blonde hair spread across the pillows.



"Guess we should be getting up soon," she murmured in a muffled voice.



"No hurry," Tara smiled, "hey, you feel like a long, relaxing bath to start the day?" Willow's head popped up, a gleeful smile on her lips.



"That sounds perfect!"



"I'll make sure you're thoroughly bathed," Tara offered.



"How thoroughly?" Willow grinned slyly.



"Very thoroughly," Tara replied. "And if you like..."



"What?"



"Well, it's important we both keep up our exercises, and you know, it can be very soothing to work out in the water, so..." Willow's smile actually grew wider, "...want to put me through my paces?"



"It would be, and I mean this in every possible way, my pleasure," Willow said.



-----



The guard at the barracks gate accepted Willow's reason for visiting and let her by, quickly telling her in a bored voice which buildings were off-limits, and pointing her in the direction of the archery ranges. She kept to his directions and found them quickly, though she was surprised to find the firing lines vacant. Spotting the lone figure nearby, she smiled and sat down on a bench, content to watch for a while.



Tara was practising with her spear, concentrating wholly on herself and her motions, such that she didn't seem to have noticed Willow's presence. The weapon whirled around her, and she moved almost as if she were dancing, spinning, darting from side to side, advancing and retreating amid dazzling combinations of strikes and defensive strokes. Willow leaned back against the wall behind the bench and tuned out everything but Tara, idly fixing on one part of her for a while then moving on to the next, studying her in detail. Where her armour left her bare - her face, her upper chest, arms and legs - Willow could see the sheen of sweat on her, a combination of the sun's heat and her exhaustive routine. But as the minutes wore on, she never faltered - precise, controlled, graceful.



'That's my girl,' Willow thought, shaking her head slightly in wonder. 'My girl, my lover, my partner... Tara.' She noticed a motion off to one side and glanced at it, spotting a pair of lancers on their way from the armoury to another building. She couldn't help but grin as she saw them both take more than a glance at Tara, and one of them murmur a comment to the other with an impressed expression on his face. 'What're you thinking?' she mused, before turning her gaze back on her lover, 'something like 'Wow, isn't she hot'? 'Boy I wish I could get to know her better'? Too bad,' she grinned, 'she's mine. All mine. I'm the one who gets to kiss her... all over... yummy. I get those strong hands holding me, touching me everywhere... I get those thighs wrapped around me, I get to run my tongue up and down them, and then between them... I get to see her glistening with sweat like that from a very different kind of exercise.' She chuckled to herself. 'Who's the luckiest sorceress in the whole world? What do you know, it's me! Yay me.'



She smiled and stood up as Tara's routine drew to a close, and waved when Tara glanced over and saw her. She spun her spear around a couple of times, casually, then sauntered over to Willow.



"Well now," she said flirtatiously, "what's a pretty young thing like you doing hanging around the barracks?"



"Oh, you know," Willow said, waving a hand vaguely, "just checking out the soldiers, you know how sexy leather armour can be, on the right body."



"Uh-huh," Tara grinned, "and did you happen to see the right body?"



"As a matter of fact, I did," Willow replied, taking Tara's hand and walking with her across the vacant parade ground next to the archery ranges. "I just sat down for a moment to get out of the sun, and happened to spot a sexy goddess of a woman getting herself all hot and sweaty doing a spear routine."



"Lucky you. Did you like what you saw of her?"



"Oh yeah," Willow replied airily, "and between her armour being yummily tight, and not concealing much, I saw plenty. I was thinking I might see if I can get her into my bed..."



"You've very confident," Tara observed, "how do you know she hasn't already got some hunky soldier to keep her company?"



"I have it on good authority that she's got a thing for red-headed sorceresses," Willow said with a wink.



"Well in that case I definitely like your chances of getting lucky with her," Tara chuckled. "Do you know who this sexy spearwoman might be?" Willow nodded and returned her grin.



"Coincidentally, she happens to be you."



"Well that is lucky," Tara said, "I'd have been jealous otherwise."



"You know I'd never even think about anyone else," Willow said, seriousness behind her smile.



"I know," Tara said easily, setting Willow's mind at ease, "and for the record, you can seduce me anytime you want. Sort of like having your cake and eating it too."



"You want to be my cake?" Willow quipped.



"If it means you'll have me and eat me?" Tara replied. "You bet."



"Where are we going?"



"Well, as you so accurately noted," Tara said, leading Willow between the armoury and a storehouse, "I got all 'hot and sweaty'. There's a shower block down by the river. Private stalls for officers - I get to use one of those. Technically I'm an officer, you know."



"My Tara," Willow smiled, "I'm proud of you, you know."



"Only a third lieutenant," Tara said bashfully, "kind of bottom of the food chain, for officers, but it means I'm entitled by military law to give orders to the troops I'm training. The contract only applies while I'm in the barracks compound on instructor duty, though. Not that I'm instructing at the moment."



"I don't care," Willow said, "I'm still proud of you. Though seeing as you mention it, where are your class of budding archers? You didn't send them all home to their girlfriends to get some exercise, did you?"



"No," Tara laughed, "there's an escort being put together, they got called away an hour early for briefing and preparation. They marched out not long before you got here, they're going to form up outside the city while the rest of the expedition gets together. They'll be away for two weeks, to the northern army and back, and until then I've just got afternoon classes with the household platoons."



"Oh, right," Willow nodded, "they must be the escort for Myrreon."



"He's joining the army?" Tara asked with a frown.



"Not really, just going up there to check things out. He told me this morning, apparently the Duke got a report last night saying that the mages they've got up there found evidence of enemy mages, but weren't sure what it was. They're battle mages, according to Myrreon, so not necessarily the best at identifying artefacts and reading ancient tomes."



"So Myrreon's going to take a look?"



"Yeah," Willow said, "just for the two weeks it'll take to get there and back. He's taking Zan with him, they're leaving tonight."



"What about your studies?" Tara asked.



"He's given me permission to use his workshop and most of his libraries, and Ocean's staying, the orrery's doing something delicate she needs to make daily adjustments to for the next few days. So I'll be able to pursue a couple of projects Myrreon started me on. Plus there's the other mages the Order made arrangements with, at the university, and the private ones. I'll visit most of them, see if any of them have openings in their schedules for the next couple of weeks. I'll drop by that mage Ember wrote to this afternoon. But basically, more free time than otherwise. So, you're free mornings, huh?"



"Just so long as you deliver me to the barracks after lunch, I'm yours," Tara grinned.



"Goody," Willow smiled. They reached the river, where a squat rectangular building turned out to be the shower block. There was no sound from within, and Willow peeked through the open door, seeing the interior to be largely empty, with a tiled floor and a row of metal showerheads. Tara led her around to the side of the building, where a number of enclosed stalls had been added.



"You could wait out here," she said, sounding like she didn't think much of the idea, "or if you want," a grin appeared on her lips, "the stall's big enough for two?"



"Luring me into a shower five minutes after we met?" Willow smiled. "Who's seducing who here?" Tara raised a suggestive brow, then reached out and caught the collar of Willow's robe, gently dragging her in and closing the door behind them.



The stall was roomy and clean, sloping gently to one end, where the shower was, and at the other mainly occupied by a bench and a high wooden shelf. The showerhead was connected to a small foot-operated pump, and from there evidently to the river. Willow felt a tiny spark of magic from the pump, and hazarded a guess at a simple filter spell. Tara slid the bolt across in the door, locking it, propped her spear in the corner, and laid her bow, quiver and pack on the shelf.



"Would you?" she asked sweetly, turning her back to Willow.



"Love to," Willow replied, starting to undo the laces on her armour. With practised ease she quickly divested Tara of her armour, neatly laying out the bodice, skirt, boots and gloves at the far end of the stall, clear of where the water might splash. Tara gave Willow a glance over her shoulder, an inviting grin, and repositioned her hips. Willow took the invitation and crouched down behind her, sliding the thin leather underwear down her legs. She couldn't resist leaning in to give Tara a quick kiss on her bottom, which drew a giggle.



"How about a deal?" Tara suggested. "You pump, I bathe... you get to watch. I'll make it worth the effort."



"I like this deal," Willow nodded. She sat down on the bench, finding she could reach the pump with one outstretched leg quite comfortably, and gave a few pumps. This pressurised the system, so that water sprinkled out of the shower as soon as Tara turned the single tap. Willow found she only needed give a pump every few seconds to keep the water flowing consistently, and quickly fell into a rhythm she didn't need to think about, leaving her mind free to concentrate on Tara.



'She's as good as her word,' Willow thought idly, propping her chin up on her hand and gazing longingly at her. Tara was indeed making the chance to watch her bathe worth far more than the meagre effort of keeping the shower going - she turned slowly, swaying her hips, tilting her head back as the water flowed through her hair, over her shoulders, down her body and legs. Her hands ran lazily up and down, now cupping her breasts, squeezing her nipples, now one hand caressing her neck and continuing upwards, gathering a handful of hair and lifting it above her head, as her other hand brushed lightly between her legs, fingers moving slowly through the patch of hair there. Willow's head started to tilt from side to side in time with the swaying of Tara's hips, as if she were hypnotised.



Tara tipped her head far back, closing her eyes as the water showered onto her face, running in rivulets down her body. From there she rolled her head around until she was looking straight down, her hair swept over on one side, water streaming from it. Looking up just enough to meet Willow's gaze she grinned, then leant down, lifted her right breast and delicately licked her nipple. Willow shivered involuntarily. Tara's grin widened, then she looked down at herself, craned her neck a little further and cupped her breast a little higher, and took her nipple into her mouth. Willow let out a sound somewhere between a whimper and a moan, and then found herself unable to keep her gaze from following Tara's other hand as it descended again to her mound. With her feet planted firm and wide, Tara used her index and ring fingers to part her lips, and her middle finger took Willow's eyes with it as it stroked up and down the soft pink flesh in between.



Tossing her head back, she lifted her fingers from her folds and stroked herself, once, lavishly, with her palm. She turned and spun the tap off, then sauntered over to where Willow was sitting.



"You can stop working the pump now, sweetie," she smiled.



"Huh?" Willow's brow furrowed in confusion, then she looked down at her foot, which was still pressing against the pedal every few seconds. With a sheepish smile she stood up and handed Tara a towel from her pack.



"I guess I shouldn't be surprised," Tara said nonchalantly, "I knew you liked pumping me." Willow couldn't help a burst of shocked laughter.



"You naughty, naughty girl," she gasped, leaning in for a kiss.



-----



Willow sauntered happily down one of the narrow streets that wound through the blocks to the south of the university, swinging her staff jauntily with each step. She had had lunch with Tara, at a little tavern restaurant near the barracks, which judging from the handful of uniforms among the patrons was where the officers liked to spend their lunch hours. A well-cooked hearty meal, and Tara's company, had left her grinning all the way down past the side of the university, through a small square ringed with small boutiques that seemed to carry all kinds of magical commodities - she made a note to visit them later - past a grassy sports field where young boys from a school were playing some game that involved a ball and a lot of good-natured running into each other, down into a pleasant little maze of tiny shops all squeezed together, offering all kinds of eccentric oddities for sale, each with a separate workshop, studio or room-for-rent occupying the first floor.



Willow came to what seemed to be a shop for small antique tables - at least, that comprised most of what was stacked to the ceiling just inside the door - and glanced at its tiny street number, then again at the folded letter from her satchel. With a shrug she went in, setting a tiny bell chiming as she pushed back the door.



"Hello?" said a middle-aged woman wearing an over-large pair of spectacles, who popped up suddenly from behind a cedar cabinet just beside Willow. "What can I do for you dear lady? A side table? An end table? A set of drawers, I have just the thing. You're looking for something more up-market than just a common piece of furniture- no? You've just arrived in town, and need to decorate your rooms? I've just taken delivery of a drinks table all the way from the Tamoe highlands, it's the most beautiful piece of work, would you like to see it?"



"Um... no, thank you," Willow said, slightly taken aback by the woman's enthusiastic and unremitting sales pitch, which she seemed to have delivered without the need to draw breath until she was done. "Um, I'm looking for," she checked the letter again, "Niston Gelt? My name's Willow, I sent a letter a couple of days ago?"



"Oh, you mean Mister Gelt upstairs," the lady said, nodding to herself. "The stairs are just around the corner to the left, dear - that's left looking in, it'd be your right, if you're facing that way, facing out, I mean... this side," she finished, pointing to the wall.



"Thank you," Willow said.



"You sure I can't tempt you with that drinks table? It's very fine work."



"No, thank you," Willow said politely, backing out the door. The lady gave her a smile and a shrug, then ducked back down beneath her cabinet. Willow shook her head and glanced to the left, where the shop was bordered by a small alley. As promised, when she peered around the corner, a thin flight of wooden stairs led up to the shop's upper storey. Willow climbed them - they were sturdy enough, despite looking somewhat precarious - and knocked on the door at the top.



She heard a bolt slide back, and the door opened to reveal a tall man in faded brown robes with a handful of pockets sewn around the waist. He looked about fifty, though his exact age was difficult to tell - his face was somewhat gaunt, though otherwise handsome enough, lined but in other ways inclined more towards youth than old age. His hair was white, pure white rather than aged grey, fine and well cared-for, hanging to his shoulders. The doorway was only a little more than Willow's height, so that he was stooped slightly looking through it. His eyes, a piercing grey, flickered to Willow's staff and then back to her face.



"Miss Willow of the Zann Esu?" he asked in a polite voice that was as smooth as liquid.



"Yes," Willow said, "hello, Mr Gelt?"



"Please come in," Gelt said with a nod. He stood aside to let her through, and pushed the door to behind her, without bothering with the bolt. She took a moment to glance around, taking a quick impression of the room. The furnishings were an eclectic mix of styles, the shelves and small tables evidently acquired from the shop downstairs. A door to one side led to the other room - the size of the storey as a whole suggested there were only the two - and two small windows, currently shuttered, looked out onto the street, one of which had a slim telescope on a tripod perched in front of it, aimed up at the sky. The books, lining the shelves and scattered about on other surfaces, were all small, old and here and there slightly battered - no newly printed works, all likely the property of more than one previous owner. A set of intricate brass instruments hung on pegs in one wall, an astrolabe, a small sickle, a pair of compasses with a ratcheted lever between their arms, and a circular device Willow recognised after a moment as a spectral sextant. Various rolled-up maps and charts were stacked in a corner, behind a plain wooden desk with an old, worn padded chair. Gelt hurriedly lifted a stack of books off a wooden chair and set it in front of the desk, motioning Willow towards it while he sat in what was obviously his familiar position.



"If I may ask, firstly," he said, "what has the lady Ember told you about me?"



"Actually sir," Willow said, "I don't remember her mentioning you to me at all, there was just the letter, the one I sent you. I'm on a, a sort of study tour, I guess you'd say, the Order gave me a whole bunch of introductory letters so I could meet some of the mages they have dealing with and arrange to work with them, only the one I sent you was from Ember herself, rather than the Order. I figured you knew her personally, rather than through the Order?"



"We journeyed together, some time ago," Gelt nodded, "so, she sent you to me... well, I must tell you before all else that I do not believe she meant for you to study with me."



"Sh-she didn't?" Willow asked.



"Perhaps, though," Gelt went on, "she thought you might learn something. Her instincts, I suspect, moved her to give you that letter which you sent to me, so I must conclude that she felt I would be of some use to you. I must also conclude, though I admit it goes against my nature, that she intended for me to trust you."



"Trust me?" Willow echoed with a confused frown.



"This is a fine city," Gelt said, leaning back in his seat, "welcoming to many peoples, but there are some here who, for various reasons, find it necessary to conceal their identities. Not everyone is welcome. I am one such person."



"Who are you?" Gelt grimaced, then sighed and spoke.



"I am a priest... of Rathma."



Willow opened her mouth to pose a question, then her mind caught up with her ears and she jolted to her feet, her chair toppling over behind her.



"You're a necromancer!"

[sabina]

Hi Artemis



Another great chapter



So Ember has sent Willow to see a necromancer... I wonder what was on her mind when she gave Willow the introduction letter.

Maybe she wanted Willow to see the both sides of the coin? Because I don't think Ember would send our redhead to someone dangerous or mad... And this guy seems nice enough... So how come he's a necromancer?



Questions, questions



More soon?

---

"I know I was born and I know that I'll die.

The in between is mine.

I am mine!" - Pearl Jam

[Arwen276]

Great update Chris!



And I trully don't mind the chapters being long...

Au contraire mon ami, I love it!



About that dream, is it an 'unofficial' preview of sanctuary? if it is, it looks VERY promising!

hmm do you think Tara gives private lessons in work outs?

I'm always eager to learn!



Now with the mage being a necromancer, I wonder what would happen next, just hope it isn't too dangerous!



I'm really amazed when someone asks you a question about 'why did this happen instead of ...' and you answer with 'they did it, they lead me to it, i was as surprised as you' ... That's very interesting when characters take over, and well the results are spectacular.



Toodles,





~Arwen

[sam7777]

Oh my. That was the hottest thing I have ever read and tara doesn't even touch Willow.



Once I cleaned the drool off of my chin and keyboard, I found myself very interested in the necromance. I plaed a few in Diablo II and they are the only magic users I got interested in playing. Me only able to do barbarian, paladin and other folks who hit things.

_____________________

I see dead lesbian cliches

[Grimlock72]

To begin at the end; learning about necromancing isn't that bad. It's comparable to learning how a gun works, doesn't mean you're going to shoot somebody with it. Interesting that Willow has been tought such fear appearantly of necromancers, I would have expected the Zan Esu to teach more about what necromancer do and such.



Ah well, Willow might be able to learn lots of not very well know stuff once she gets over her shock. I wonder if Tara will sense Willow's shock/fear, could be interesting (though prone to lots of mis-interpretation :-).



I also liked Willow just watching Tara when she was practicing with her spear. The pride she has in Tara is just, well... nice to read.



As for the rest... well I guess they're still very much in love, heh .



Grimmy

--
"You hurt Tara," Willow said too calmly. "The last one who tried that was a god. I made her regret it." -- Unexpected Consequences by Lisa of Nine

[Artemis]

Thanks everyone Well as you may have guessed (it being five days since the last one) the next chapter is done and ready to be posted, as it will be as soon as I'm done replying. It's a bit shorter than the norm (12 pages rather than 14, which is what I roughly aim for), but it's one of those ones where I had a definite end point for the chapter, and didn't want to push on past it just for length. And it's kind of angsty, at least as far as my fic ever is I'm a bit hesitant about it, I don't know if I really found the tone I was aiming for. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it.



sabina: Well, heh, most of the stuff you're wondering is what the next chapter is about. So I'll just say thanks, and move on



Arwen: That dream was just a dream - Tara's not prophetic or anything. She was just experiencing a familiar place where she's felt at peace, and adding Willow to it, and then getting carried away by interesting imagery Of course, just because it's just a dream doesn't mean she and Willow can't *make* it real. The normal parts, anyway, I doubt Willow's going to turn into an ocean anytime soon



It does happen quite often that bits of the story just turn up without any planning on my part. Some things I plan way ahead (like the necromancer - I had this meeting in mind way back in the early chapters, when Willow mentioned necromancers once or twice in passing, as a shadowy evil group), some things I plan a bit ahead of time (like Willow watching Tara work out with her spear), and some just show up on the spur of the moment (like Tara taking a shower).



In extreme cases, it is possible for a character to just take over and write by themselves, without me having to think about it. There was a story I wrote a few years ago called The Rose that was like that - it was probably inspired and influenced by reading Starship Troopers, but the majority of it just turned up on the page. I just sat down to write four consecutive evenings, and at the end of it there was this story. Strange. (In one other case, my heroine and villainess got fascinated with each other, and I couldn't manage to write the finale until I gave in and changed my story plan, so that the villainess saved the heroine, rather than trying to kill her. Until then, I just kept distracting myself and finding other things to do rather than write.)



Sam: I'm glad it was entertaining. I was a bit worried with that opening love scene that it'd be repetetive, seeing as something similar happened a while ago (in the wagon, before all the wilderness stuff). That's mainly where the little game of Tara giving Willow a 'workout' came from, as a way to make it different to the scene I'd already written.



Grimlock: So far as Willow knows, necromancers are evil. That's pretty much all the Zann Esu know, too - they're good, but they're not all-knowing. For the most part they're right. Necromancy is a skill mainly derived from demons, who are naturally necromantic, and they often give the power to their mortal servants. But as you've probably guessed, not *all* necromancers are like that.



And yup, they're very much in love. I don't see that changing, no matter what

[Artemis]

Hellebore



Author: Chris Cook

Rating: NC-17

Summary: A headstrong sorceress and a young Amazon join forces to locate and destroy an ancient source of demonic power.

Spoilers: None.

Copyright: Based on characters from 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer', created by Joss Whedon and his talented minionators, and 'Diablo II' by Blizzard Entertainment. All original material is copyright 2003 Chris Cook.

Feedback: Please. Here, or to alia@netspace.net.au



--

Chapter Fifty-Four

--



Gelt remained carefully motionless in the face of Willow's accusatory outburst.



"Please sit down," he said in a placid voice.



"Why?" Willow demanded.



"Well, it might be more comfortable than standing," he replied evenly. "Do as you wish - the door is unbolted, you could be out of here in seconds. Or, come to that, you could just as easily kill me. I'm unarmed, and have no protective spells prepared." Willow hesitated, and glanced quickly around the room for any sign of active magic.



"Consider why you are here," Gelt said, patiently but not unkindly, "Ember sent you to me. Do you believe she would knowingly put you in harm's way?"



"Not knowingly," Willow replied warily.



"Then do you believe she does not know what I am?" Gelt asked.



"You're going to tell me necromancers aren't evil?" Willow asked.



"Please," he said, gesturing to her chair. Cautiously, she picked it up and seated herself opposite him.



"Most necromancers are evil," Gelt said, leaning back, "however, they are not priests of Rathma. Just as not all elementalists are Zann Esu - many mages have a spell or two at their disposal that draws on primal elemental power. Almost all healers use primal fire magic, even if only on a passive level. There have even been evil mages who used the elements for their own ends. Fire, ice and lightning in the service of evil - does that make the Zann Esu evil?"



"Nicely put," Willow said sceptically. Gelt shrugged casually.



"I can only tell you," he said, "I can't make you believe it." Willow gave him a long, calculating stare.



"Okay," she said, "let's say Ember knows you're a ne- a priest of Rathma," she corrected herself.



"I can't deny the former," Gelt said, "but your courtesy is appreciated."



"Why send me here? And why like this, in secret, without at least telling me? I trust her, if she'd told me who you were-"



"She could have been overheard," Gelt sighed, "or her letters might have been read. There is no court in any of the lands of Sanctuary that does not live by influence, politics and suspicion, and the same is true of orders of mages. Even yours, which I might say is among the better. This way, so far as the Zann Esu are concerned, your sponsor sent you to meet an old friend of hers, a mage of some small merit she met on her travels once, who perhaps might have a word or two of wisdom for you - there is no reason for anyone to doubt this. If a sponsor were to be found to be consorting with necromancers, sending her impressionable young students to them, well, how would the Council of the Zann Esu react?"



"It... there'd be consequences," Willow allowed. "But if what you say is true - if - why the secrecy at all? The Council aren't zealots, if you're free of evil influences, and they were allowed to see that for themselves-"



"Ah, well," Gelt said, "let's just say the priesthood finds it convenient to remain in the shadows. It allows us to do what we believe we must do."



"And what's that?" Willow frowned.



"I suppose I had better explain, as best I can. Rathma represents balance. Balance in all things, and the most important balance, underlying all others, is that between order and chaos. The purpose of our priesthood, the goal we strive towards, is to maintain that balance, to see to it that neither chaos nor order gain the upper hand. You're going to ask what's wrong with order overcoming chaos?"



"The thought had crossed my mind," Willow said slowly.



"Would you want to live in heaven?" Gelt asked. "The Zann Esu know, so far as any mortal can, what heaven is."



"Perfect order," Willow said.



"Would you want that? Not an afterlife, heaven as the Zakarum church describes it, but to actually be alive, in the high heaven of the crystal arch? Most people would say yes, of course, but you didn't - I imagine this thought has occurred to you before."



"From time to time," Willow admitted.



"And knowing what heaven would do to a mortal life - render it changeless, sterile, unable to grow, to become more than it already is - it has occurred to you that it is just as well that the high heaven is reserved for angels, and when we die our souls will find rest in a place closer in nature to the mortal realm. Perfect order, and perfect chaos such as exists in the burning hells, exist because they should. But in their proper places - not here. Sanctuary is not for demons and angels, it is for mortals, and we require both order and chaos. Those who ignore this, and strive to impose total order... I'm sure you're familiar with the examples history affords us."



"Even so, some degree of order..."



"Oh, yes," Gelt nodded, "some degree, just as some degree of chaos is valuable, indeed necessary. But order is not an end in itself, any more than chaos is. What purpose could there be in causing chaos, destroying, simply because one can? Madness. But so too, there is no purpose in creating order simply for its own sake. Order is... it's a tool, it allows us to create stability, a place to be safe, to build for the future, to prepare for what might lie ahead. And chaos allows us to invent, to grow, to become more than we are. Both are necessary, and neither alone are enough. That is what Rathma means. There are times when chaos becomes too powerful - the Reckoning was one such time. Then we take up arms against the forces of chaos, to allow order to regain its position in the balance."



"And when order grows too strong?" Willow challenged.



"Yes, that's the question, isn't it? When order grows strong, it will inevitably fail of its own accord - perfect order is not attainable in the mortal realm, thankfully. But in failing, such order may do tremendous damage, poisoning the minds of millions against new ideas, different ways of living. And the collapse of order leaves a vacuum into which chaos flows. It is, in most cases, preferable to ease the decline of an overbearing system of order, rather than allowing it to implode by itself."



"And how do you do that?"



"The same way we aid order," Gelt said, "there are always people who recognise, instinctively or for personal reasons, the danger of an imbalance. When chaos reigns, the brave take up arms to protect their little patches of order - their villages, their families, their way of life. And when it is order that grows too strong - people are not inherently orderly, so there are always those who do not conform. They are persecuted, shunned, driven out. You..." he seemed to concentrate for a moment, "...you love a woman. And you have encountered people who regard this as a sin."



"Yes," Willow nodded, "how did you...?"



"I will explain soon," Gelt replied, "in all likelihood, those people who denounced your partnership had never been themselves harmed by it, or by other similar men or women. They simply considered a system of order - one man, one woman - to be more important than your individual nature. There are always people who rebel, or are forced to rebel, against such prejudice, and it is those people we then come to the aid of. So long as their voices are heard, there is an avenue, however difficult, for tolerance - acceptance of the chaotic within human nature - to breed, even within the most strictly ordered society. Do you understand now what we believe, and why we believe it to be necessary?"



"I... yes," Willow said, "yes, I see... but why necromancy?"



"It is our nature," Gelt said. "Just as you are attuned to the primal elements, the priesthood of Rathma is composed of those attuned to balance. We can... see it, sense it. When a person, a group, a place is in balance, we know it. Likewise, even when all seems well, we can sense where a tiny imbalance has the potential to grow into a greater one. We sense all balances, not just that between order and chaos. Joy and grief, good and evil, nobility and selfishness, bravery and cowardice... life and death. All our abilities revolve around sensing the state of these dualities, and altering them. If it is necessary for us to employ force, we can strike fear into the hearts of brave men, turn loyal comrades against each other, sow seeds of doubt in the minds of prevailing foes, and ultimately twist the line between life and death - bring to the dead a measure of life, and thus raise an army from the graves of the slain." He regarded Willow's expression of distaste.



"It is not an ability we use lightly," he said quietly. "Nor do we use it often. We have other powers at our disposal, which we use when possible - some I have mentioned, others you may be familiar with, through rumour and story, such as the creation of golems, which are unliving forms imbued with a measure of life. But necromancy is the strongest force we wield. You're about to ask whether I've ever raised the dead?"



"Um... yeah," Willow admitted.



"After I read her letter, I imagined the kind of person who might suit her, as a student," he said with a mild grin, "the idea of someone intensely curious came to mind more than once. Yes, I have wielded necromancy. Three times, not counting my aprenticeship. The most recent, and most extensive, was six years ago. A renegade from the Zakarum church, a Paladin who had cast off his vows, made a pact with a demon, and was given necromantic abilities. I had no choice but to pit my magic against his."



"Six years ago..." Willow muttered to herself.



"You wouldn't have heard of it," Gelt said, "to my knowledge, no-one besides myself and my superiors in the priesthood are aware that the battle even took place. It is often best that such things pass unnoticed by the world at large. Fear is a powerful incentive to accept order, even when it is a strict, dangerous order. It is usually best for the general populace to feel safe in their homes. It promotes a more tolerant view of the everyday differences that stem from the chaotic within us all. Usually, of course - sometimes it is necessary to know of the danger, otherwise no-one would steel themselves against it."



"You'll understand if I'm still not quite at ease with all this," Willow frowned.



"Of course, of course. To be frank, it's probably for the best that you aren't. Necromancy is far more commonly practiced by the evil than the good. It's a power inherent to demons, whereas very few mortals are born with it, and fewer still join the priesthood. I honestly do not think it would be wise for you to be 'at ease' with the raising of the dead. I'm not."



"You're not?"



"It's a... have you ever seen an undead?"



"Yes," Willow said flatly.



"One brought harm to you," Gelt said, frowning.



"To my partner," Willow explained.



"Interesting," Gelt murmured to himself.



"What?" Willow asked sharply.



"Oh, not that she was hurt, of course not... but you felt the hurt as if it were your own. In any case, you saw the creature. How did it feel, for you to look upon it?"



"It was..." Willow searched for the right words. "It shouldn't have been."



"True. The dead have completed their journey on the mortal plane. Their souls and spirits have gone... wherever they may go, and their remains should be allowed to rest in peace, as they say. To become one with the earth once more. It is a terrible thing to see a body, that once housed a fragile, beautiful mortal spirit, dragged from its rest, animated by soulless power." Willow nodded. "Now," Gelt said, "imagine what it is like to be the cause of it."



"So why do it?"



"At times, it must be done. Any weapon is terrible, ultimately. A sword may be used to defend, to achieve great good, but the only purpose inherent to it is to kill. Whatever noble goals its wielder may seek to achieve, all a sword is, and can ever be, is an instrument for inflicting suffering and death. A tool for killing, nothing more, and that is terrible."



"You're saying necromancy is the same?" Willow asked, a challenging tone in her voice.



"I am saying necromancy is the extreme end of that dichotomy," Gelt replied calmly. "A terrible power, which we of the priesthood wield for good. Or what we consider to be good - I may tell you we have a special insight into the nature and processes of good and evil, but even so we acknowledge that our judgements are our own, not those of a higher being who claims absolute knowledge. We are but mortals, and as mortals our judgement may be flawed at times. We try our best, though. As I said, we don't wield our powers lightly. I will say, though, that never in the history of our priesthood has a priest of Rathma served a demon. Not once."



"Why tell me all this?" Willow asked. "Why did Ember send me to you? Just to learn about necromancy? I don't mean to offend you, but this is not a subject I'm really eager to pursue."



"Good," Gelt said without hesitation. "And no, I don't imagine you are here simply to meet a necromancer in person, and certainly not to study necromancy. One must be born to it, in any case. But I am explaining this to you so that you will know, in full, who and what I am. I did not wish to meet you under false pretences, you see - I don't think it would have been advisable to do so. If I may draw your attention to something..." He flipped through a few papers on his desk and handed Willow one which she recognised as Ember's.



"The letter she wrote, that you sent to me," Gelt explained. "You'll note that, among all the formalities one might expect in such a request to meet a student of hers, she asks that I 'see what I can see in you'. A casual phrase, but I don't believe she meant it as such - she knew better."



"What did she mean?" Willow asked, still with an air of suspicion.



"Well... allow me to demonstrate." Gelt reached to a shelf behind him and drew out a slim book, then lifted a coin purse from one of his pockets and fished out a copper coin. He laid the book flat on the table, then balanced the thin coin on top of it, on its edge, holding it upright with the tip of his finger.



"Which way will it fall?" he asked. "To the left, or to the right?"



"I don't know," Willow said, frowning, "either way's just as likely." Gelt nodded, then with his other hand lifted up the left edge of the book, keeping the coin held upright relative to the now-slanted cover.



"And now?" he asked.



"To the right," Willow said. Gelt let the coin fall, and slide down the book's cover to the desktop.



"Imagine the coin is a man," he said, "making a choice. The book is the world around him, influencing his choice. Suppose he has to fetch wood from the woodpile, will he walk or run the distance from his doorstep? If it's sunny he'll walk, and enjoy the sun, if it's raining he'll run, to be back under the shelter of his roof as quick as possible. If you know whether it's sunny or raining, you know what choice he will make, even though you do not know the workings of the man's mind.



"That's a simple example, but it will suffice. Priests of Rathma see balances, and a choice is simply a balance that tips to one side or the other. We can sense, to continue the example, whether the man will walk or run, because the way his balance tips is already known to us."



"Are you saying you can see the future?" Willow asked with a sceptical frown.



"You're right to be sceptical," Gelt nodded, "and of course it's not so simple. Even if that simple example - suppose the man is in a hurry, he may run even if it's dry. Or if he's depressed he may trudge through the rain, conscious of nothing but his gloomy mood. Any single choice is affected by millions, perhaps billions of previous choices. To the sight of Rathma, this turns a simple yes-or-no choice into a murky mire of 'perhaps', 'maybe', 'what if'... but it can also reinforce certain choices. That we are attuned to balance, to choice, affords us a great insight into the present. We can also see, sometimes, a part of the future that the present is leading us to. Whether what we see will come to pass, or whether events will transpire differently... that we do not know until we arrive at the moment of choice - when the future becomes the present."



"Probability," Willow said, "you can see what's likely to happen."



"Yes," Gelt said, "not a certainty, but a guide. Useful, at times, in moderation. It is called, as I said, 'the sight of Rathma', and I believe this is what Ember referred to. She wants me to look into the balances that make up your life, and uncover where they may take you. The spell will allow you - only you - to see fragments of what may be your future. I chose to reveal my allegiance to you out of... well, loyalty to Ember, as a friend and former comrade, and because I feel it would be reprehensible for me to use my magic on you in this way without your consent, which you could not give if you were unaware of what I am."



"I see," Willow nodded. Gelt paused, then continued.



"This, also, is not something I do lightly," he warned. "The gifts of the sight can be as much a burden as a blessing, and can lead to as much harm as good. In some cases, in fact, the sight can be used as a weapon - a curse. It is rare to do so, but effective, or so I'm told. The choice must be yours, and you must know the dangers involved."



"Okay," Willow said levelly, "what are they?"



"There is no physical peril," Gely said, "you will see, hear and feel what is to come, but you will be unaffected by it, in body at least. Mentally... well," he said with a grim look, "if a man were to look into the future, and see some great suffering to come, what effect might that have on his psyche? I use this as an example only, you understand. Many people - almost all, at one time or another - choose to exist in a state of, well, denial regarding the future. They choose not to think about various inevitabilities - old age, and death. It can be distressing to be confronted with your future in such a way as to force you to accept it."



"Yeah," Willow nodded, "yeah, I see what you mean."



"That is the risk," Gelt said. "Balance against it Ember's desire for you to see. I'm sure she cares for you, perhaps loves you like a daughter. She would not want you to experience the sight without reason. What that reason may be, I cannot say, nor is it for me to say. There is much that I can see about you - your love for your partner, your great thirst and aptitude for learning, your intellect... and considerable wisdom, for one so young. I see many trials, both fresh in your mind, and not so recent, and that the past few days have been less trying for you. Many things, but not all things, and it is not for me to say what could yet be important to you. Choose, though - do you wish to see?" Willow took a deep breath.



"I- yeah," she said after a thoughtful pause, "yeah, I do. Ember's never steered me wrong, a-and there's... there's something going on that could turn out dangerous. I think maybe she knew, at least suspected, it wasn't over. So yeah," she nodded to herself, "sight me."



"Very well," Gelt said gravely, "You will be perfectly safe while I perform the magic. You will see things, hear things - they will be distorted, perhaps dreamlike. You alone will experience what you see, I will know nothing of it unless you choose to tell me. The details given by the sight are considered highly personal among the priesthood, so I will not ask you to share them - you may, if you wish, or you may wish only to share them with those you feel closest to, or to keep them to yourself. The first experiences you have will be weak, and they will grow from there until they seem as real as the world around you now. Then they will fade again, until the spell is over. Try to remain calm. Remember, what you experience has not yet come to pass, and cannot harm you now."



"Okay," Willow nodded solemnly.



"I must use a small amount of my blood to prepare the spell. Don't be alarmed." Gelt took the sickle off its peg on the wall and carefully pricked his palm, drawing a bead of blood. He took a deep breath then began to chant very softly, almost inaudibly. He held his palm facing up, and the blood began to flow, in a very thin, faint stream, into the air, a wisp of scarlet that formed a circle.



"The magic of Rathma calls on no power but our own," he explained quietly, "no demon or god holds sway with us. Like the Zann Esu, we are of and for the mortal realm. The sight exposes you to no outside influence. You need not fear."



"I understand," said Willow, her voice wavering but her gaze level.



"Then it begins," Gelt said. The circle vanished, and Willow's eyes closed. Gelt stared at her, breathing deeply and quickly, as if exerting some great continuous effort. His hands clenched, knuckles turning white. He set his jaw, while his breaths became more laboured, shallower, as if he was in pain. After a moment he seemed to become accustomed to whatever sensations were troubling him, and continued his vigil, while Willow remained motionless.



"Ah!" she suddenly cried, eyes flying open. Gelt jerked, startled, then wrapped his arms around his middle and gritted his teeth against some deep ache. Willow stared around herself wildly, beginning to rise from her chair, before she remembered where she was, and her breathing calmed. As awareness returned to her, her face fell, and tears began to fill her eyes.



"Wh-what I saw," she began, looking at Gelt. She halted when she saw his state. "Are you alright?"



"Some discomfort," he said in a strained voice, "it will pass... no permanent harm." He took a deep breath and sat up straight, if stiffly. "Our way requires a price be paid in return for our abilities. Another thing that separates us from the," he winced, then recovered, "the necromancers who make deals with demons in return for their powers." Willow frowned with concern, bit her lip, then held out a hand. A haze of frost appeared on the desk, coalesced into the form of a cup, and filled with clear water. Gelt grinned to himself, and gingerly took it.



"Thank you," he said, sipping the water. "I should have prepared a glass of water myself, but I underestimated the drain of the magic on me. That was an unusual casting."



"It didn't fade away like you said," Willow offered, her voice trembling a little. "Just... I saw things, and then suddenly it was over."



"I think you should not tell me what you saw," Gelt said, gulping the rest of the water down and taking a deep, steadying breath. Without concentrating Willow dissolved the cup back into a mist, which quickly faded away.



"No?" she asked, though her voice betrayed relief.



"The sight was ended prematurely," Gelt explained, "a choice was reached for which I could not reach a point of resolution."



"What does that mean?"



"To bestow sight on another is, essentially, to infer their future choices from the content of their present character. Your spirit guided your path, and determined what you saw. The last thing you experienced was a glimpse of a choice you will, at some point, have to make. For whatever reason, it is a choice your spirit is unable to face now. All the powers of all the priests of Rathma - and, I am sure, the similar powers of seers, scryers, prophets and oracles - cannot see what you will decide. And thus, everything beyond that moment is hidden from us. Even from you - which path you choose will remain a mystery until the moment arrives, and you make the choice as it presents itself to you." He fell silent, and stared at her, with a degree of concern in his gaze.



"Th-thank you," Willow said, gathering her wits, "for trying... I'm s-sorry I was suspicious earlier..."



"Oh, think nothing of it," Gelt said with a wave of his hand, "I'm sorry, in fact. I can see this experience has upset you, and I regret that. I believe that Ember asked for me to do this for a reason, and had your best interests at heart. Perhaps that will afford you some measure of comfort."



"I-I'll try," Willow said. She looked around herself, then slowly stood. "I should go... if there's nothing else?"



"No," Gelt said sadly, "no, that is all I can do for you. Even for one such as Ember, there are things I cannot reveal. I have said and done all I can." He stood and opened the door for Willow. She gave him a fleeting, haunted smile as she stepped past him.



"Willow," he said abruptly. She turned on the landing and looked back at him. He frowned to himself, as if wrestling with some inner struggle.



"I should not say this, not to an outsider, but... the bond you share with your partner - such things have great power. When the moment comes, trust her."



"Thank you," Willow said, swallowing and looking away.



"Good fortune to you," Gelt said. She turned and climbed down the stairs, hearing the door close behind her.



-----



Willow walked joylessly through the narrow city streets, heading slowly back towards the Palace but in truth not paying very much attention to where she was going. Aside from the miniscule amount of concentration needed to keep from walking into anyone, her thoughts were entirely turned inward. She walked by other pedestrians, people enjoying a meal at tables outside taverns, children playing games up and down the pavements, all without sparing a glance or a thought. The present flowed around her, and she ignored it - the future plagued her, and she hunched her shoulders, cast her eyes down, and hoped to reach the privacy of her room before she could no longer hold back the tears.



Over and over, against all better judgement, she replayed the vision in her mind. She wondered balefully how far she would get - when would it become too much, how far would she still have to go when the memories crippled her, and left her crying on a street corner? Doggedly she walked onwards, as again and again she lived what she had foreseen.



At first it had been indistinct, as Gelt had told her it would be, a vague jumble of sensations and familiarities that made no sense. The impression she was standing by a window, with sunlight filtered through glass on her skin. The feel of paper beneath her fingers as she turned the pages of a book. The leap her heart took when Tara was near her, when she felt light and almost able to fly if she wanted. Wind in her hair. A smell, old and dank, like a cellar that had never been aired. The familiar sensation of a minor spell, like a tickle running up the inside of her spine. Something like losing her balance, stumbling.



Then in the space of a heartbeat everything was suddenly vivid and real. Her surroundings were still indistinct - open sky, dark shapes nearby like standing stones, a storm overhead, strange colours hanging in the air - but at the centre of her vision she could see as clearly as she saw the pavement in front of her. Tara, her Tara, surrounded by an aura of pure, primal ice, a shroud of cold magic so intense she had never seen the like. The vision lasted only a fraction of a second, but in the instant that it faded it had left Willow with the sickening realisation that it was her energy, her magic around Tara, inescapably surrounding her, turning her to ice, flowing through her as if she were nothing. She had seen the future - she was killing Tara.



"Go," she muttered to herself, as the Palace walls loomed up ahead of her and she turned towards the distant gates, "just go." She swallowed and concentrated on her breathing, unwilling to let herself shatter until she was alone.



'No,' she told herself, 'I don't have time to cry. I don't have that luxury. I know what I have to do. Be strong. Walk away. Just get my bags and leave, and she'll be safe. I'll never see her again, but she'll be safe, whatever I saw can't happen, and I can live. I won't have her, but I can live if she's safe. I can live. She'll keep me alive, even if I can't have her. I can't lose her. I can't. I can't!'



She had to stop, pause a moment and take a deep breath, before she resumed her course towards the gates. She was biting her tongue by the time she made it to the Palace, making for her and Tara's room as quickly as she could. She turned down corridors here and there to avoid the Palace's other inhabitants, but there were plenty of ways through the rambling building. She wanted to be alone.



'I can do this,' she thought, 'I can. I have to. I can't hurt her, I can't, I can't-'



"I can't," she muttered, without realising her voice had picked up her thoughts. She whispered fiercely to herself, as her legs carried her up the spiral staircase.



"I can't hurt her, I can't ki..." she couldn't even say the word, "...no. No, I can't. He was lying, he tricked me, it's not going to happen..." She knew she was deluding herself. 'Don't be weak,' she silently told herself, 'I saw it as if I was there. He wasn't lying. I don't believe that, I just want to. If he was lying, if it wasn't real, then everything's okay, and I want that so much... gods I wish he was lying, why can't he have been lying? Oh gods, what do I do? What can I do?'



She was vaguely aware of Lissa looking up at her from the attendant room as she passed on the landing, but she didn't look or give any indication that she wanted anything, so she was left alone as she climbed the last few stairs and pushed open the door to the bedroom. She leaned heavily against the door as it closed behind her, letting her staff fall to lean against the corner of the wall, and dropped her satchel from her shoulder, leaving it where it lay on the floor. Without really seeing she looked around - bar the bed, which had been made sometime during the day, everything was exactly as she had left it that morning, half an hour after Tara had kissed her goodbye and headed out to the barracks. Willow absently touched her lips, remembering the kiss.



She staggered wearily across the room, slumping onto the long, soft couch beneath the window. Having foolishly allowed herself the luxury of remembering a kiss, the memories came fast now, watching Tara at practice, watching her shower, knowing the way she moved, the way she touched herself, was all for her to watch. Kissing her, teasing her, flirting over lunch, promising fulfilment later. 'Promising,' Willow thought, 'oh gods... oh please forgive me...'



"I promised..." she whispered to herself, willing the tears to come, to wash away her thoughts. All she was given were memories of things she had said to Tara - that she would stay with her, never leave, all the places she would show her, the wonders she had seen on her travels that she would share... the life they would have.



"What life?" she demanded of herself. "There is no life, there isn't- nothing. If you stay, there's nothing, she'll... she-" Willow felt a tear slip from her eye, leaving a wet trail down her cheek. "It'll be my fault," she whispered, almost pleading with herself, "it'll be my fault, if I don't... if I can't leave, a-and she... it's my fault. It will be. I have to go. Now. Get up! Now!" Dashing away the tears that were flowing freely now, she got to her feet and stomped over to the desk, where she had left some of her books out. She looked at them, trying to think.



"Just take what you need," she said to herself, ignoring the tears, "just... the ones you need. And-" 'And what?' her thoughts demanded treacherously. 'Leave the rest? Leave half me life here for her to find, and wonder what drove me away? She'll come after me. I should write her a letter, I should explain- I should...'



The sight of the slim leather-bound book she had bought a few days earlier put a halt to her thoughts. She opened it and felt the blank pages slip past her fingers. She had been going to start it today. She had guessed she would be back from meeting Gelt before Tara returned from the barracks, and she remembered thinking, as she had walked to meet Tara for lunch, that she would start with her first sight of her, in the wagon just by Kingsport docks, as she had sat among her books, looked up at the newcomer, noticed her cleavage first of all - she had imagined Tara's laugh as she read that - then looked up into her face, and seen such a gentle soul in her eyes...



The book fell from her hands, landing on its spine on the desk and falling shut. Willow stared about herself, looking for some safe haven from the life that was too perfect to leave, and the future too terrible to face. Finding none, she staggered to the bed, threw herself across it, curled up, dragging the covers around her, and cried like she had never before cried in her life.

[BFR from Paris]

Ouch...



And may I add

[Insanity]

Oh oh...

A peak into the future.. always dangerous...

She should talk to Tara and tell her. Together the will manage!



Great chapter, although there's no smut in it....



Insanity

"Nobody messes with my girl!"Tara, Bargaining

[justin]

That was a great update



It seems that the problem with that vision is that there is no context. While it's understandable that Willow would leave to protect Tara what she should be doing is trying to work out why she would be killing Tara.



One reason that comes to mind is if Tara were possessed by Shadai, or she'd been taken over by one of those mind control wands and the only way to free her is to kill her. In which case the best thing would be to stay with Tara and to protect her.



The point is that without knowing what led up to the events in that vision Willow can't know how to prevent them.



Looking forward to more

Postel's Prescription: Be generous in what you accept, rigorous in what you emit.

[chilled monkey]

Oh dear. I hope that Tara will stop Willow before she leaves. Justin is quite right; what Willow should do is think how the 'vision' will come to pass so that she can stop it. Then again, after what she's been through, who can blame her for not thinking clearly.



I don't trust this necromancer priest guy. Could it be that he is trying to manipulate her? Perhaps he is working for Shadi? It has been pointed out how easy it is for her to ensnare mages at this point.



I do like your idea of what Heaven and Hell could be like, and of the need to maintain balance between order and chaos. Who would want to live in a world where nothing ever changed? This shows what good stories you can get when you put some thought into how the supernatural works. M.E. could have learned a thing or two from you.

[JustSkipIt]

Wow Chris,

Probably the best part in a while. At first I thought the exposition was getting a little preachy but then it certainly came around. What a pleasant surprise and change of pace. And now poor Willow... But she should listen to Gelt about what he said that Tara could do what she needed to do... What amazes me is that Willow would consider leaving. Not because she'd be leaving Tara, but because doesn't she know about that old paradox: if you try to act differently to keep something from happening that will make it happen? Leaving wouldn't do any good.

Great job building the suspense toward a climax.

---

"Your little will can't do anything. It takes Great Determination. Great Determination doesn't mean just you making an effort. It means the whole universe is behind you and with you - the birds, trees, sky, moon, and ten directions." - Katagiri Roshi

[Arwen276]

Hey Chris,



Terrific update...

and as It seems, I'm sharing quite a few points with Debra,

first of all about the preachy thing, it was a great way to lull the reader, I for one was very surprised by the outcome.

I like Gelt's theory, about Chaos and Order, it's very similar to Hindouism and Buddhism in some ways...

Anyway, what also amazes is Willow's decision to flee, which she didn't go through thankfully!

She nearly did an Oedipus there, with the whole running away to prevent what would happen, while in the end it happens anyway tenfold!



Now I'm rather worried about what's to come next, what will she tell Tara? how would they or she get over it?

will she follow Gelt's advice about trusting her lover?





more?



~Arwen

Hear That Baby? You're My Always... Willow

[sabina]

Hi



Great update



Before I read this last chapter I couldn't think of any way for a necromancer to be useful and serve the good, but you managed to convince me that, as always, there are two sides to the same coin and I found myself thinking that the theory about chaos and order made perfect sense and maybe not all necromancers were that bad.

Even though I can think of better ways to spread chaos than raising the dead... But that's kind of off topic



I felt sorry for Willow, knowing one's future must be a terrible burden.

But I think her decision to just get away to protect Tara was a bit hasty, I mean she doesn't know if her running away isn't going to lead her to that precise moment where she has to decide to kill Tara.

And well, by freezing Tara doesn't mean that she is killing her... People can go into hypothermia, slow their metabolism down to the point of stopping and then be reanimated, as long as you do it quickly, within about five minutes from the time the heart stopped.

Although warming Tara up may prove to be difficult consireding that Willow's an ice sorceress



I guess I'll have to wait and see what will happen next



I hope Willow talks to Tara about this.

---

"I know I was born and I know that I'll die.

The in between is mine.

I am mine!" - Pearl Jam

[Karmah]

Chris

great update

I meant to say this earlier but forgot I wanted to say thanks for explaining things, I had no knowledge of some of the concepts that your writing about so thank you for that.

and I can totally understand Willows first thought being to leave she thinks she will Kill Tara, and knowing that she has the power to do it can be overwhelming. Great job i am eagerly awaiting the next update

She walks in beauty, Like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that's best of dark and bright. Meet in her aspect and her eyes.

~ by Byron ~

[Artemis]

Thanks everyone Things are busy at the moment, and there's a couple of details of the next chapter I have to figure out before I can write them - it's about half-done at the moment, and might possibly be complete by tomorrow night. If not then, Monday certainly.



BFR: Heh. Yeah, ouch. It's not easy for me to do this sort of thing, seeing as it's so warming to see Willow and Tara just enjoying their lives in the absence of nasty plot twists. But, this is how the story goes... I guess I just have to hold out for a happy ending



Insanity: I know, no smut... I miss smut already I can't promise great amounts of smut, as the story is getting to the stage where events are moving quickly, and it's not possible to have Willow and Tara just take a day off as they're inclined to do when things are calm. But don't worry, there'll be smut.



justin: Quite true, Willow needs context for what she's seen, and she doesn't have it. Unfortunately there may not be a way to get it, prior to the events actually occurring, which is what puts her in a difficult position. Of course the thought of harming Tara, much less killing her, is a terrible thing for Willow to contemplate, far worse than a threat to herself, so it's difficult for her to think straight and assess the risks of her possible courses of action. Her instincts say that *any* risk to Tara is unacceptable.



chilled monkey: Whether to trust Gelt is a tricky situation for Willow, and one she'll be mulling over, among other things. If what he says is true, then necromancers aren't at risk from demonic possession or influence. Of course, if he were under Shadai's control, he'd hardly be telling the truth about it...



The order/chaos balance is something I liked from the Diablo background, and it works well with the idea I'd like to build into this, which is that it's not heaven that offers the best existence, but the world itself.



Debra: I was concerned about the exposition too, in fact what you see is the second version of it, after I largely discarded the first. I like the necromancer lore very much (even though I don't enjoy playing them in the game - all you do is stand around being bored while your undead minions play the game for you), but as you note, it can't occur in the story simply for its own sake.



Willow's probably aware, to some degree, of the various theories and paradoxes surrounding prophecy. The one you mention is a nasty one, but only applies if the future is set regardless of what she does. Her Order as a whole believes in prophecy (they waited for centuries to fulfil theirs, after all), but whether the future is set or changeable is something they've never come up with a sure answer on.



Arwen: Well, I didn't intend the exposition to lull the reader as such, but if it worked, hey, I won't complain I think Willow deciding (albeit not following through) to get away is understandable, given how protective we know she can be, and the lengths she's willing to go to to protect her loved ones. And her vision wasn't the passive sort, for a split second she was actually in that moment, hurling her magic and seeing Tara at the centre of it, so it's no surprise she's highly agitated. You picked up on Gelt's advice, though - he didn't say that for no reason, or just to try to comfort Willow.



sabina: Well, it's true that undead are more or less inherently chaotic, which makes it unsurprising that it's a power demons have. But people have a knack for creating order from chaos (and vice versa, at times), so it's not impossible that a necromancer could wield that power against chaos.



Hasty, yes. It's a difficult, emotional moment for Willow, so it's not surprising she's acting in haste, rather than pausing to consider. Even a cold mage (inherently defensive) is taught that there are times when inaction can take away your chance to achieve your goals.



Karmah: That's a good point you raise, about the amount of power Willow has. Sorceresses are without a doubt the most powerful battle mages in the world - at their height they can take on armies, or pure demons, and even one of Willow's age, just old enough to be a sorceress in her own right, rather than a student, can do a hideous amount of damage. They're very careful with their powers, but even so, being confronted with an example of how much destruction you're capable of is a difficult thing, on top of her desire to protect Tara.



Well kittens, be well, and I hope to have a chapter for you tomorrow.

[Grimlock72]

Interesting... so Willow faces a very difficult choice AFTER she has appearantly killed Tara ? Somehow thats rather hard to believe. (unless we're considering necromancing her back to life, rather crude way to force a virus out :-)



The stuff about Order and Chaos was impressive. I've never read much about the underlying theories, too easily bored by books about the meaning of life :-).



Given that Willow actually experienced/felt the moment I'll concede that it was a shock to her. I will even assume Willow is correct in thinking that she was in that 'moment' intentionally killing Tara (as opposed to protecting her from outside harm). Still she needs at the very least to figure out why she would need to do such a thing, as it certainly would be a very final and last resort.



Running away only helps if it's Willow who turns 'bad'. Otherwise someone else will kill Tara. Besides which running away *only* helps Tara, it's far better to prevent the situation from getting so out of hand. Can't really think of a likely cause of such a choice at the moment.



Willow would do well to remember what Gelt told her about the man getting wood for the fire. That was a simple example. Besides I'm not much of a believer in destiny and the future being fixed... ('no fate' as Sarah Conner said once)



I suspect Willow is mostly running on emotion at the moment. As such it's a good thing she's crying that out on the bed. Should clear her head a bit, allow her to think. Having Tara around to comfort her is a two-edged sword; it likely will calm her but also remind her of her vision.



Interesting that appearantly Willow doesn't trust herself or her own judgement in regard to Tara.... wonder where that comes from.



P.S. For a chapter with a specific end-point I thought it nicely skipped partly over the cliffhanger with the last two or three lines. (i.e. we know Willow isn't leaving *yet*)



Grimmy

--
"You hurt Tara," Willow said too calmly. "The last one who tried that was a god. I made her regret it." -- Unexpected Consequences by Lisa of Nine

Edited by: Grimlock72 at: 2/28/04 12:31 pm

[Vampyr666666]

I cant believe that Willow would kill the love of her life. Couldn't it be that the magic was indeed a form of elemental ice magic but from another spell caster?

I' m waiting impatiently for the update! Please hurry Chris. Your story is an awesome piece of writing-work. Lots of hugs and kisses to all other kitties out there.

















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Willow & Tara = LOVE | Willow & Tara always and forever

Edited by: Vampyr666666 at: 2/28/04 3:44 pm

[Artemis]

Hi Kittens Yeah, I know, it's monday and this isn't the next chapter just yet - but I know exactly what I have to write. It's just that right now I'm uber-tired after a long night of Oscar-watching (yay for Lord of the Rings!), and I'd rather wait until tomorrow to finish the chapter. So I promise, in less than 24 hours you'll see a new chapter right here.



Grimlock: Thanks, as always, for an in-depth response, and analysis. You've picked up on something there - the spell was ended, as Gelt said, by a moment of choice. To the millisecond, in fact - Willow actually saw the moment when the choice was just about to be made. As for what it is... well, that's the problem with the spell, it doesn't tell you everything you need to know



I did deliberately avoid a complete cliffhangar - I wanted the pause between chapters to be a pause in which to consider what just happened, not necessarily be immediately worried that Willow is going to up and leave right away. More a sort of 'fade to black' moment, rather that a sharp cut.



Vampyr: Thank you It is difficult to believe - if Willow hadn't seen it with her own eyes (magically speaking), she wouldn't believe it either. Even so, she's conflicted inside. I guess it comes as no surprise to anyone (sorry if I am spoiling it for anyone ), but yes, there *is* more than meets the eye going on. What? Wait and see



Well then, I'm off to get some sleep, and then to wake fresh and rested and write the last few pages of the chapter.

[Artemis]

Hellebore



Author: Chris Cook

Rating: NC-17

Summary: A headstrong sorceress and a young Amazon join forces to locate and destroy an ancient source of demonic power.

Spoilers: None.

Copyright: Based on characters from 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer', created by Joss Whedon and his talented minionators, and 'Diablo II' by Blizzard Entertainment. All original material is copyright 2003 Chris Cook.

Feedback: Please. Here, or to alia@netspace.net.au



--

Chapter Fifty-Five

--



Tara saw Willow curled up on their bed the moment she opened the door, and her jovial greeting died on her lips. Dropping her spear and pack hastily on the table she rushed to the bed, kneeling and leaning forward to reach her.



"Willow?" she whispered hesitantly. "Willow, are you awake? Wh-what's... Willow?"



Willow started at her touch, then the tension seemed to flee from her, replaced by lethargy as she slowly looked up at Tara, deep despair in her eyes.



"Tara," she murmured sadly. Tara's heart broke at seeing her eyes red from crying, and the trails of tears half-dried on her cheeks.



"Sweetie?" she asked, with quiet desperation, "talk to me? What's wrong? Please?" Willow swallowed, hesitated, then raised a hand towards Tara, as if she couldn't quite make up her mind whether to reach for her. Tara lay beside her and hugged her tightly, relieved to feel Willow's arms slowly close around her and hold her in return.



"Y-you're... you're in danger," Willow managed to say, in a choked voice still thick with unshed tears. "You're- something terrible... I'm not strong enough to stop it."



"What's going to happen baby?" Tara asked gently, leaning her head back just far enough to look into Willow's eyes.



"I-" Willow began, her voice failing her, "I can't-"



"Please?" Tara whispered. "Please, Willow? Whatever it is we'll face it, I promise. I won't leave you, no matter what." She frowned in dismay as this caused Willow to bury her face in the rumpled blankets and sob.



"Willow?" Tara pleaded.



"I-I have... I can't leave," Willow replied without looking up, "I- I have to, to protect you, b-but I can't-"



"Why?" Tara asked, with real fear in her voice. "Baby, why do you have to leave? Please tell me, please... don't leave me?" The last words came out in a whisper, the tremulous plea of a frightened child. Willow heard them though, and her arms, which had been hanging limp around Tara, now hugged her with fierce strength.



"I'm so sorry," she sobbed, "so sorry... I'm- I won't leave you baby, I promise... but I'm so afraid..."



"Just talk to me, Willow," Tara whispered, returning the hug, unfathomable relief in her voice. "Tell me what's going on." Willow managed to look up at her, and Tara lifted a hand to brush the tears from her cheeks, and then stroke her hair as they both lay down, resting their heads against the pillows.



"Th... the mage... I saw today," Willow began, pausing to gather her thoughts.



"Did he-" Tara began, fire flashing in her eyes. So close to her, Willow actually felt the flush of power through her, shamefully reminding her that Tara was not a woman incapable of defending herself. She shook her head quickly.



"No," she explained, "no, he's alright, he didn't do anything bad... I'll... Ember sent me to him for a reason..."



-----



Willow talked, uninterrupted, for some time, while Tara listened, holding her and comfortingly stroking her hair. Willow spoke almost in a monotone, her voice as expressionless as it was normally lively. Tara frowned at first, when Willow told her who and what Niston Gelt was, but let her keep talking, and as Willow explained the ways of his priesthood, and added her belief that he was telling the truth, she relaxed. Only once did Willow falter, when describing the vision she had experienced.



"Deadly magic," she was explaining, "absolutely deadly... I was casting at-" There her voice caught, and she seemed unable to speak.



"Me?" Tara prompted softly. Willow nodded wretchedly, but Tara just kept stroking her hair, her other hand hugging Willow's waist, and after a moment she resumed her tale.



"Do you want to leave?" Tara asked, as calmly as she could, when Willow had finished. She made no motion to get up, or let go her hold on her.



"No!" Willow said vehemently. "No, by all the gods no, I never wanted to leave you. I... I was so afraid... I *am* afraid," she admitted, her voice growing small and shameful, "and I thought... I thought if I wasn't around you, I couldn't hurt you... I-"



"Shh, it's alright," Tara soothed her, as fresh tears fell from Willow's eyes.



"I'm so sorry," Willow said, fierce through her tears. She turned over in Tara's embrace and clung to her tightly. "I'm so sorry... I never wanted to hurt you, never..."



"You didn't," Tara whispered.



"But I-" Willow protested haltingly, "-I said... you thought I wanted to-"



"I was upset," Tara admitted, "and worried. But not hurt. I knew there was something going on I didn't understand yet, and I... I was afraid that, for some reason, you would leave. But I knew you didn't *want* to, even if you believed you had to."



"I'm so sorry," Willow cried, "I'm stupid, I'm not thinking- I just-"



"Shh, baby," Tara murmured, "you're not stupid, don't ever think that. It's alright to be scared baby, it's alright... we'll make it through this. Just like we have before, together."



"Promise?" Willow asked, lifting her red-rimmed eyes to meet Tara's.



"I promise," Tara said sincerely, "somehow, we will get through this. I won't give you up. I can't."



"I'm just so-" Willow began. "The thought of hurting you... it's so terrible, it frightens me so much, I just want to run away... huh," she chuckled mirthlessly, "some sorceress I am."



"Don't say that," Tara said gently, "you're the bravest person I know. You remember putting all your trust in me, when we were surrounded by goat-men?"



"It's easy for me to trust you," Willow said without hesitation.



"Then trust me now," Tara went on. "I will not let that happen to you. I don't care if destiny and fate and all the powers in the world try to make it happen, I won't let it. You don't have to worry," she whispered, leaning over to rest her cheek against Willow's, "I know, baby, I know with all my heart, you won't hurt me. Look at me?" She gently guided Willow's gaze to hers again.



"I don't have any defences against you," she said softly, "I've let you into my heart completely, and you know why? Because I know I can. Because I know you make me safe. And if anything tries to change that," she shook her head for emphasis, "then it can go straight to hell, because I won't let it. You will not hurt me."



"I..." Willow said at last, "I-I believe you. Gods know I'm afraid, but I believe you. I believe in you."



"I believe in you too," Tara replied. "It's okay to be afraid. I am too. But we're together, baby, so... so I know we'll be alright. Whatever's going on, we'll defeat it." Willow swallowed, then nodded once, firmly.



"I love you," she whispered.



"I know," Tara smiled, "that's why I know we'll make it. I love you too, Willow."



"Tara," Willow murmured, capturing her lips for a moment, seeking reassurance and finding it.



"What do we do?" she asked.



"Well, first things first," Tara grinned, "it's getting close to dinner time. Let's get something to eat?" Willow smiled tentatively, and they both sat up.



"I promise," Tara whispered in her ear, "I won't let you go."



-----



Rather than use the dining table Tara suggested they eat on the couch, and so they did, with trays balanced on their laps, Willow leaning contentedly against Tara, enjoying the constant gentle strokes and touches she gave whenever she had a hand free. Tara was glad to see Willow's smiled coming easier and more frequently as she relaxed - she knew they had to discuss her vision in more detail, but she would have been reluctant to bring it up so soon had Willow's distress continued.



"Okay then," she said quietly, stacking Willow's empty tray on top of hers and leaving both on a side table for later, "comfy?"



"Comfy," Willow said, with a small sigh but a resolute expression as she glanced up at Tara.



"Alright, let's start at the beginning. Do you think it would do any good to go back to Gelt tomorrow? I'm free all day, I'll go with you."



"I don't think so," Willow said, measuring her thoughts carefully, "I think he's told me all he can. Or at least all he's able to, according to the rules his priesthood has. He sort of suggested that the last thing he told me, to trust you, was something he shouldn't have said to an 'outsider', like it was something he was able to see, but shouldn't have shared. I..." she paused for thought, then continued: "I think he's done his best, for the sake of whatever loyalty he has to Ember, and now it's up to us." She shrugged. "Plus, being a priest of Rathma in a place like this, he must lead a fairly secretive life, so turning up on his doorstep demanding information would probably be... well, impolite." She gave Tara a little grin.



"Okay," Tara agreed. "Alright then... you believe he's told you the truth? About what he is, and what you saw?"



"I do," Willow said, "I'm not a truth-seer or anything, and even if I was from what he said it's possible he'd be able to counteract that kind of magic, but... well, I believe him. Maybe I'm wrong, maybe he was hiding his real intentions or his real nature... Ember always told me to trust my instincts though, and I think he's genuine. Besides, Ember obviously knew he was more than just a common mage, and I don't think he could have fooled her, not to the extent that she'd entrust me to him. All together, it... it makes sense that he is what he said."



"And the spell he did for you was what he said it was," Tara added. "From what he told you, how definite do you think that power was? Was he showing you what will be, or what might be?" Willow gave this careful consideration.



"I think he believed it," she said eventually, "I'm not sure I do - what I saw was... well, I don't want to believe it," she admitted, "part of me can't... but the intellectual side of me says that he believed I saw something that will happen, not something that might happen. And it seems from what he said that his priesthood are good at this sort of thing. And, again, Ember sent me to him for this. She doesn't put much store in predestination, as a rule, so if she thought it was important enough..." She frowned to herself.



"You remember I told you once about the Priestesses of Zerae?" Tara asked. "The ones that have visions, like the Oracles in your order." Willow nodded, and Tara went on, "Well, they believe that what they see is the future at that moment. Sort of like... like being on a boat and looking ahead. You can see where you'll end up, but if you change the sails, your course changes. They say that the, the act of seeing the future changes it."



"Yeah," Willow nodded, "I understand... I don't think that's what Gelt's priesthood believes, though."



"Maybe they don't, but Ember does," Tara suggested. Willow glanced up at her, and Tara could see her digest the idea, as a grin tugged at the corners of her mouth.



"Maybe," she said slowly, "I- the thing is," she confessed, "I'd absolutely love to find some way where what I saw isn't real, and everything's okay. I-I don't want to dismiss it too easily, though. It's tempting to dismiss it, but-"



"But we don't want to be unprepared for anything that does happen," Tara finished. "I agree. Okay, let's look at it this way: we have a chance to change what will happen. I want to believe everything's okay, too," she smiled, "but not if it means putting either of us in danger. Whatever happens, we'll be ready, I promise."



"Right," Willow said firmly, "that's a plan I can follow one hundred per cent."



"Then we've got a plan," Tara said, hugging Willow and giving her a playful pat on her stomach. "Alright, so... your vision. Tell me everything you can remember, as much detail as you can. Anything might be important."



"There wasn't much," Willow admitted, "and I didn't recognise anything at the time... apart from you," she added with a frown. Tara gave her a reassuring squeeze.



"Maybe we'll recognise something if it turns up," she suggested, "it might give us the chance we need to do something differently." Willow looked up at her with a grin.



"Good thinking," she noted, "okay... first it was just a few sensations... like- bits of experiences, but not the whole thing. Sort of... like you'd get if you had déjà vu, and take away the actual experience of whatever it is you're doing that seems familiar. Just the sense of something... Okay, first I felt as if I was standing in front of a window during the day, I don't know where - might even have been here," she shrugged, waving a hand in the direction of the window opposite them, beyond the bed, "I just don't know. There was definitely sunlight, and a... like a sense of the space beyond the window, but I think it was closed. Looking out on a view that I wasn't part of, like from behind glass. I didn't feel the wind, of hear anything from it. Not a whole lot to go on."



"You never know," Tara offered.



"Yeah," Willow agreed. "Next there was a book - I think it was a book. I just felt paper on my fingers like I was turning pages, but there was a, a sort of weight to it, which is why I think book rather than a pile of paper or something. No idea what it was, though. Then I felt like you were with me. I always feel better when you're close," she said, smiling up at Tara, "I felt that, I'm sure. Then I felt wind blowing, I don't know if I was running, or riding, or if it was just a strong wind - just the feel of my hair blowing around. Then a, a sort of confined feeling, not trapped exactly, just... like I'm in an enclosed space, and it's kind of dark and damp. Not scary, just... like a cellar, or a basement. Or maybe just an old room without any candles lit. Some place that hadn't been disturbed in a while, it had that sort of... still feeling. I felt myself cast a spell, a minor one, I'm not sure what. Cold magic, not from a scroll, but nothing powerful. Then I felt off balance, like I'd stubbed my toe, and was just feeling myself overbalance but I hadn't started falling yet."



"Was that right after you felt yourself casting the spell?" Tara asked.



"Well, there wasn't anything between them, but I don't think they were related - I don't think it was the spell making me feel that, whatever it was. Then... well, that was when the real vision hit me."



"Tell me," Tara said gently.



"It was... everything around you was blurry, like - like I could only properly see what I was focussing on, and everything else was peripheral. I'm sure it was open sky overhead. Cloudy, overcast, a storm, I think. There were these dark shapes all around, like pillars, or standing stones, I'm not sure, I couldn't see them properly. Just... things, standing upright. I think stone, just a feeling. There were these patches of, of colour, in the air. It must have been some sort of magic, but I don't know what, nothing I've ever seen before."



"Between the stones?" Tara asked. "Or in front of them?"



"Maybe," Willow nodded, "they might have been connected. They were all around. Some kinds of magic need standing stones, or some sort of constructs like them, to work, to help focus the energy. The Zann Esu don't practice them, we study them, but not to use. A sorceress isn't supposed to rely on anything but her own abilities. I haven't actually seen those kinds of spells in action, so perhaps it was something like that."



"Anything else?" Tara prompted, as Willow paused and frowned to herself.



"No," she said, "that was all I could see... I remember feeling sort of... threatened. Not by you," she added hastily, "just the sense that, that something was happening, and I had to do something. I wish I could be clearer, but it was all jumbled up-"



"It's alright," Tara assured her. "What about me?" Willow took a deep breath.



"It was difficult to see," she said, "all the magic in the air... You were in your armour, the light set. You looked... not afraid. Tense, but not afraid... like I said though, it was difficult to see, so I might be wrong."



"I doubt it," Tara said, "you're pretty perceptive when it comes to what I'm feeling."



"Well, I try," Willow said bashfully. "That's just about all I could see though. You had your spear, I think - some weapon, anyway. Not your bow, though it might have been on your back, I'm not sure. Not in your hand, at any rate."



"And the spell you were casting?" Tara asked softly.



"I know it," Willow admitted, "it's not a spell, it's... it's what you get when you don't cast a spell. Just pure power, drawn from the flow of the elements and released into the world, with no form, no purpose. Normally a mage - any mage, not just sorceresses - forms a spell and draws on the power for it at the same time. We're taught, as a last-ditch measure, how to draw on power alone. Without having to form a spell, you can draw more power, but because there's no spell there's no way to control it. It's very dangerous, we're taught only to attempt it if we're absolutely sure there's no other option. We're taught how to do it, but only in minute amounts, the rest is all theory. If a sorceress draws on the full extent of her power, without controlling it, there's a fair chance she'll kill herself doing it. But it's just as destructive to anything else. It's for when you've got nothing to lose, and you're dead if you do nothing."



"One last roll of the dice," Tara quipped, "all or nothing."



"Yeah," Willow nodded, "yeah, pretty much. In Entsteig, in the library when I saw Shadai, that's probably what I should have done, instead of trying to fight my way out of it and banish her. According to Zann Esu rules, anyway," she added.



"What are the odds of surviving something like that?"



"With cold magic? About half-half. According to the texts, anyway, it's not something that sorceresses experiment with. But there are times when it's had to have been done. It's supposedly impossible to do it safely, if you draw on that much power, but it can be survived. All the magic flying around would probably cause freezing, cuts, maybe disruptive internal damage. Wild magic, without a spell to shape it, can be pretty unpredictable. That's using cold, at any rate. With fire it's more predictable, but the odds of surviving are lower. Lightning... they say you never know what you'll get. Maybe vaporised, maybe tossed around like a rag doll, maybe not a scratch. It's really not the same stuff as storm lightning, it's primal energy, very unpredictable."



"And what you saw was cold magic?" Tara asked.



"Definitely," Willow said, "I doubt I could draw on much power from another element even if I threw everything into it, and anyway, I'm sure it was cold. I saw the freezing, the- I knew it. It's the magic I've been casting since I was a little girl, I should know what it feels like by now."



"It's alright, I'm not questioning you," Tara said soothingly.



"Huh? No- I'm sorry," Willow shook her head, "I didn't mean it like that, it's just that... this is all so unbelievable. What I'm saying is something I- If you'd asked me yesterday, I'd have said it was impossible. But I saw it..." She trailed off and turned over, kneeling on the couch beside Tara, with no tears yet in her eyes, but her sorrow plainly written on her face.



"Why is this happening?" she asked plaintively. "Why can everyone else lead a normal life, but everywhere I turn sooner or later there's demons, or madmen, or nightmares? No, it's alright," she said with a wan smile, as Tara opened her mouth, "I know I'm just being childish, but... I'm okay."



"Here," Tara offered, opening her arms to Willow, who gratefully sank into her embrace, resting against her with her head pillowed on Tara's chest.



"I'm okay," she repeated, "I guess... it's been a bad day. I guess I just needed to vent a little."



"I understand," Tara offered, "you know, you'll get no argument from me. I wish we could just get on with our lives, instead of having to worry and deal with goddess-knows-what looming over us."



"But we don't get to choose what life throws in our path, huh?" Willow said wryly.



"No we don't," Tara sighed, "and sometimes it's a blessing, to be surprised, and enjoy unexpected moments... and sometimes," she grinned down, "it's a real pain in the butt." Willow snorted with sudden laughter.



"You know what?" Tara asked, sobering.



"What?"



"Well, if it were true what you've said now and then... that I could have anyone I want? Any of those people out there with normal lives, who never get chased by monsters, never have to deal with dark forces, or fight for their lives... I wouldn't. I'd choose you, over anyone else in the whole world, monster chases and all. And because I've got you in my life, I feel like the luckiest, most blessed women alive."



"Tara," Willow whispered, lifting her head. Her eyes were moist, but it was joy, not sadness, that sent the tears trickling down her cheeks now.



"I promise," she said, slowly and deliberately, meeting Tara's gaze unwaveringly, "I promise with all my heart, I am yours, a-and I'll be yours forever. No matter what happens, no matter how frightened I get, no matter how much danger the world throws at us, I promise I'll be at your side. I know I've said before I'll stay with you forever, and - not that I didn't mean it, but I guess I was just thinking of the good side of things. Well now I've... now it's tough, and now I'm promising anyway. I'm... I'm yours."



Tara smiled, bit her lip, then leaned forward and kisses Willow, very softly. Their lips brushed together like clouds, then opened, but still there was no haste and no pressure. Just love; Willow was utterly captured by the gentle kiss, and when it finally ended, when Tara leaned back again, she felt completely satisfied, and forgiven for her fears.



"I love you," she whispered, even before her eyes opened again.



"I know," Tara replied, "I love you. Hey," her tone became more playful, "how about a long, hot bath before we go to bed?"



"Yeah?" Willow grinned.



"Tell you what," Tara said, sitting up, "I happen to know you were ogling a hot young Amazon down at the barracks today. Perhaps I could arrange for her to bathe with you?"



"I can't say no to that," Willow replied, bouncing to her feet. Tara stood with her, and held her for a moment, smiling with her arms loosely around Willow's waist.



"Welcome back," she murmured.



"Hmm?"



"That's my adorably excitable Willow."



"Well... she's never far away," Willow shrugged with a smile, "you know just how to excite me." They kissed for a moment, then Tara disengaged her hug and led Willow towards the bathroom.



"I wasn't *ogling*," Willow pointed out half-way, "I was... discreetly observing. A casual passer-by wouldn't have noticed anything thing untoward in the way I was looking, regardless of what I was thinking."



"Sure," Tara nodded, "you were practically drooling."



"Well... maybe a little," Willow conceded as Tara began filling the bath, "but you know, she was a *very* hot Amazon. Exceptionally hot, in fact."



"You'll just have to wander down to the barracks more often," Tara suggested, "maybe you'll get to 'discreetly observe' her some more." She adjusted the water temperature, held her hand under the tap to test it, then sat on the side of the tub and gave Willow her full, appreciative attention as she undressed.



"Doing some discreet observation of your own?" Willow quipped as she swayed naked past Tara and stepped into the bath. She sank into the water with a sigh, then folded her arms on the side of the tub and rested her chin on them, watching as Tara loosened her armour.



"An Amazon should always be aware of her surroundings," she replied, "particularly people. It's amazing what you can learn, just by taking note of every subtle nuance." Willow chuckled to herself, and leaned back to turn off the tap. She glanced at the small shelf above the taps, studied the small bottles there - stealing glances back at Tara all the while - and finally selected a scented bath oil and poured a little into the water, swirling it around.



Tara shed her armour and skirt, sneaking a look at Willow over her shoulder as she stood before her, wearing only her boots and briefs. Ignoring the bench beside the bath she lifted her leg and planted her heel against the wall, at waist-height, as she undid the buckles on her boots, first one leg and then the other. Kicking the boots away under the bench, and stood with her back to Willow, hooked her thumbs into the waist of her underwear, and in one slow, elegant motion leaned down, dragging them over the curve of her bottom, down her legs, and finally letting them fall around her ankles.



"Like?" she grinned as she turned around and stepped over the side of the bath.



"Beautiful," Willow murmured, "you'll be pleased to know I took careful note of each and every subtle nuance."



"Well good," Tara smiled, "I'd hate to think my nuances were going to waste."



"Never," Willow laughed, "come here."



By virtue of already having the soap and washcloth ready, Willow bathed Tara first, making no secret of her appreciation for her body as she ran her hands all over her, nor making much effort to conceal her interest in Tara beyond bathing her, as her hands lingered in all the right places, and touched in just the right ways. By the time she handed the washcloth to Tara and settled back into her arms, they were both thoroughly at ease, giving and receiving physical contact as easily as the time of day.



"Want to hear a story?" Tara offered, as Willow lay back against her, arching her back slightly as Tara caressed her chest and stomach. At an affirmative murmur, Tara grinned and went on:



"Many, many years ago... when Athulua and Kethryes wandered the harsh lands of the old warlords and chieftains, gathering their following of the downtrodden, the enslaved, the persecuted, all those who hoped for a better life. They had travelled for years, and had been joined by many others - Zerae, Hefaetrus, Karcheus, Elasia, Anishe, Jamaron, dozens of them, who all now watch over the Amazons from their homes in the world beyond, as our gods and goddesses. But this was when they were just men and women, gathered together in search of the chance for a new life. More than anything they wanted a homeland, somewhere to build their homes, plant their crops, raise their families and not have to worry about where they would find shelter next. But no-one would take them - wherever they went, the rulers were distrustful of them, and would not allow them to make homes on their land unless they agreed to abide by the old, unjust laws that demanded some live as slaves, some be condemned for their choices... so they journeyed farther and farther, hoping to find their home somewhere over the horizon.



"Karcheus, who had travelled much in his young life, and whose keen eyes and ears had revealed many rumours and secrets to him, had once heard of a man he believed could help them, called Misiya, the mariner, a man from far away, who because of his foreign ways and appearance was mistrusted in all the ports he put into. But his home was the sea, which he was master of, and it was said that if he wished he could sail around the world, and never lose his way. Athulua led her people to the mouth of the river Tiera, where rumour said Misiya could be found. They made camp outside the city and waited, and on the eighth day a strange ship came into view, unlike any of those at anchor in the harbour. She was Misiya's ship, the Valkyrie, and the mariner himself was at her helm.



"Learning of the plight of Athulua's people, he agreed that he would join them, for a while at least, and carry them on the Valkyrie to the far-off land of Westmarch, where they hoped to find a kind ruler who would allow them to settle and make their homes. But as they loaded their supplies and livestock aboard, a priest of the sea god Marvulla, from the city, appeared, calling on Misiya to give up his ship. The priest said that only men of the city and river were worthy of Marvulla's blessing, and demanded that Misiya and his new crew of refugees disband and abandon their journey. Misiya refused, and so the priest cursed him. 'I call on Marvulla,' he said, pointing his gnarled old staff at Misiya and his ship, 'If you and your unclean vessel take to the seas on this voyage, a great storm shall arise and beset you, your ship will be destroyed, and you shall never see the shores of Westmarch.'"



"Rotten old priest," Willow frowned, turning over so Tara could wash her back.



"Misiya scorned the priest," Tara went on, smiling, "but later he went to Athulua and Kethryes, and confided his fears. The sea was a treacherous mistress, he said, and a curse was no laughing matter - even a mariner such as himself would be powerless if the sea turned against them. Athulua and Kethryes listened to him, and then talked with their people, and they agreed that they would rather set forth, following their own path in spite of the scorn of others, than turn back and return to the lives they had once known, governed by cruel and unjust rulers. They said to Misiya that, if he still wished to make the voyage, they could sail with him.



"Dark clouds were already gathering above the far horizon, but nonetheless Misiya took his ship out and set a course for Westmarch, trusting his instincts to guide them to a land which would not even be visible for many weeks. But as the priest warned, the clouds grew to a storm, the sea churned, and huge waves tossed the Valkyrie, sending her far off course. Misiya fought with all his might and guile, but as he had feared the sea was far stronger than any man or ship. Farther and farther they were driven by the storm, far out into the sea, away from any land on Misiya's charts, and the Valkyrie began to creak and groan, her old, trusty timbers battered by the massive waves.



"On the sixth night of the voyage, Misiya finally came to believe that they were doomed, for the storm showed no sign of abating, and his precious Valkyrie was on the verge of breaking apart, her hull leaking, her sails in tatters, her masts cracked or fallen. But just when all seemed lost, and Athulua's people feared they would never see land again, a strange fire surrounded the Valkyrie, keeping her from being broken, and she surged forwards, as if steering herself. And then, in waters that had never been charted, they saw a shore, and Misiya guided his ailing ship to land, sustained by the strange magic around her just long enough to carry her crew to safety. I bet you know where they were, don't you?"



"The Amazon Isles?" Willow grinned, cuddling up to Tara.



"That's right," Tara nodded.



"So, the nasty old sea god's curse came true, but the Amazons found their homeland anyway," Willow murmured. "I like the sound of that story."



"I thought you might," Tara said, gently stroking Willow's hair. "I know it's hardly the same thing, but... you never know what might happen. That was just a vague curse, whereas, well, what you saw didn't leave much room for interpretation. I don't blame you for fearing the worst. But just remember how much you love me. I don't think that leaves any 'room for interpretation'." She gave Willow a supportive smile. "Between fate, and your love, I know which one I trust more."



"You're a goddess," Willow murmured, smiling and shaking her head, "no matter how much I need you, you're strong for me."



"I do my best," Tara said with a bashful grin. "I'm sure, sooner or later, I'll need you to be strong for me, and you will be."



"I hope so," Willow replied earnestly.



"I know so," Tara told her. "C'mon, let's get to bed."



"I liked that story," Willow said again, as she and Tara dried each other off. "Is Misiya one of your gods as well?"



"Oh yes," Tara nodded, "we're not a big ocean-going people, but we sail between the islands, and there's a few captains who take their ships further, to reach Westmarch or the Twin Seas, and they always offer a prayer for Misiya to guide them safely on their journey, and back home. They say he shines as the brightest star in the sky, and all ships can steer by his light."



"The axis star," Willow observed.



"That's the one," Tara replied, "we call it the Mariner, after Misiya. And his ship, the Valkyrie, gave its name to Athulua's handmaidens."



"I remember you telling me about them," Willow noted. She and Tara hung up their towels, gathered their clothes and returned to the bedroom, preparing for sleep. Once Willow has slipped under the covers, Tara quickly donned a robe and pulled the bell-cord for Lissa, who appeared at the door and took their empty dinner plates.



"Miss," she asked, "is everything alright? I don't mean to pry, but... Miss Willow seemed upset earlier...? Is she alright?"



"She's had... troubling news," Tara said, "but we're okay. Thanks for asking." She gave Lissa a grateful look, then turned from her relieved grin and met Willow's gaze, sharing a warm moment with her.



"We'll be fine."

[Arwen276]

YES they will be fine!



I loved the way Tara handled everything , how she calmed Willow's fear, and that says a lot in a relationship.

Makes me kinda wish for a relationship like that, don't you agree?



Umm It makes it clearer now that they dissected the vision, it sets back some fears, makes way for more rational thought.

They said it was a lost-hope spell? when there's nothing else to do?

well Maybe Willow wasn't trying to hurt Tara, but they were both there, and it was their last resort, in some danger they were in...

wishful thinking?

well it clued me in since Tara wasn't afraid, as Willow said...





I can't wait for the next installment!



~Arwen

Hear That Baby? You're My Always... Willow

[sam7777]

I read chapters 54 and 55 together and I love the way Tara made sense out of Willow's fear and supported her with her strength and love. As to the vision, I suspect that Willow will do the cold spell on Tara and will be doing it to protect her. It fits with Gelt's statement about trusting Tara. Tara and Willow will be up against something hugely demonic and will prolly be in a situation where Willow has to use that kind of dangerous power. I suspect that Tara will choose to let Willow put the spell on her that Willow will have to trust Tara's choice. I see something like Shadai is throwing fire (or judging from the sky descript a meteor shower) at Tara and Willow casts the ice to freeze her and protect her. I'm not sure where all the balance stuff will come to play but I suspect the power of Willow's spell and Tara's focus for her own magic will both play a part in restoring the balance by adding chaos. All that discussion of how chaos is needed to balance order just points me that way. All of this is my own boundless speculation.



I like the Necromancer. I love corpse explosion and armies of skeletons. I'm the sort who liks to role play chaotics since in my real life I am so lawful and ordered. Never would do it in real life cuz the idea of actual skeletons and zombies is ewww but it's fun in games.

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I still see dead lesbian cliches

[Grimlock72]

Sooo.... when doing such a last-ditch spell the power is flowing uncontrolled.... which makes a second caster nessecary to control that flow I would guess. Maybe Tara can help focus that power ?? (being the focal point of an ice-ray sounds painfull though)



The main problem is that Willow felt she was killing Tara or was at least very afraid of doing that. That would be an understandable feeling if she was indeed doing that flow-free spell, regardless of what happened to Tara at that time. She's always afraid of Tara getting hurt in such situations of course, as is Tara for Willow. Maybe thats the choice-point; to continue with the spell or not, hmm....



I do like Tara helping Willow analyze her vision, but a plan they don't really have . Sure they'll stay together, thats nice... doesn't change much though. That vision is simply way to vague except one specific thing, without more context it will only serve to worry them both.



Indeed it would be a shame if Tara's "nuances" would go to waste, heh. I'll bet Willow will fall asleep rather quickly, she must be exhausted.



What/who did protect the amazone vessel by the way ?



Grimmy

--
"You hurt Tara," Willow said too calmly. "The last one who tried that was a god. I made her regret it." -- Unexpected Consequences by Lisa of Nine

[JustSkipIt]

I like the contrast of this chapter. The high point of it is Tara's wise and insightful tale of how the Amazons found their home. Throughout she is supportive and detail-oriented which is wonderful but the story is just beautiful.



I feel like Tara neared understanding something that I'm not sure Willow does yet. Gelt said that the vision ended because no one can tell what Willow will choose in that moment. But she seems to feel like the vision is the final point of all moments. She needs to remember that there is still some choice to be made. Further, and using Willow-logic, we can assume that any choice which is so complicated that it can't possibly be known involves Tara. If Tara were dead at the moment of the choice, Willow's next choice would be easy to fortell - she would kill, destroy, or banish the danger or save the people, etc. Tara asks if the vision is something that will or might happen but neither seems to understand the import of the moment of choice.



You've done a wonderful job of setting up the climax of the story in such a way that the readers know that something big is coming but, like Willow and Tara, we don't know when.



Well done. Debra

---

"Your little will can't do anything. It takes Great Determination. Great Determination doesn't mean just you making an effort. It means the whole universe is behind you and with you - the birds, trees, sky, moon, and ten directions." - Katagiri Roshi

[Vampyr666666]

This is going to get seriously angst.

Thank you so much for this chapter Chris.

You show the deep love and share in such a wonderful way. Willow was so upset and confused after what the necromancy spell showed her, but only a few touches and words from Tara were enough to ease her pain. I believe the two can face any danger when they're together.













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+ = | Willow & Tara truly and forever!