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buffyfic-digest       Wednesday, August 12 1998       Volume 02 : Number 298



In this issue:

       BUFFYFIC: "Faith" -- "Part Three: The Path of Thorns" (3a/9)
       BUFFYFIC: "Faith" -- "Part Three: The Path of Thorns" (3b/9)

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or buffyfic-digest mailing lists and on how to retrieve back issues.

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Date: Thu, 13 Aug 1998 01:32:16 EDT
From: <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "Faith" -- "Part Three: The Path of Thorns" (3a/9)

Feedback: YES! Please! I eagerly await it!

See part one for all disclaimers and notes.

~

                "Part Three: The Path of Thorns"

     "Here we are, then," Giles said, closing the doorway of the
new car the Network had purchased for whatever needs he and Buffy
might have in the way of transportation. He missed his old car,
clunker though it may have been. Not even the built-in compact disc
player in the new one made up for the fact that the sports car was
more on the order of something Cordelia would purchase than
something that suited Giles' own tastes. He glanced up, watching as
Buffy walked toward the cabin. It wasn't really a cabin, he
supposed, in that it had running water and electricity. It was more
of a cottage in the woods.
     Ahead of him, Buffy was ambling slowly down the path to the
doorway, not speaking until she tried the door and it refused to
give. Then she turned back to look at him. "Do you have a key?" she
asked.
     Giles nodded. "Of course," he replied, fishing the key ring
out of his pocket, then tossing it to her when she came near enough
to catch it.
     She caught it, turned, and went back to the porch, where she
opened the door and vanished from his sight. Giles glanced back at
the road, then checked his watch. The movers should be here within
a few hours, with the furniture and suitcases. Until then, he and
Buffy had time to explore the grounds and make themselves at home.
     He followed her into the house, looking around. The paint was
new, the rugs were new; it seemed as though the whole cottage had
been refurnished for their arrival. Perfectly possible, he knew,
given that the Network was as eager as anyone else involved to see
Buffy returned to functional duty as their Slayer, their champion.
     From the top of the stairs, Buffy's head appeared. Giles felt
his heart leap when he saw the expression on her face-- a smile
that reached all the way to her eyes, one that showed genuine
emotion. Mentally thanking God that Buffy seemed to be on the road
to recovery already, even while he reminded himself of all the
other times he had thought that since the past fall, Giles moved to
join her upstairs.
     "You've gotta see this," she was saying, already moving down
the hallway as he nodded and walked behind her. She reached the
room at the end of the corridor, entered, and crossed it to the
window sill. "Out there," she said, nodding.
     Giles followed her gaze to the sight outside, and took a quick
breath as he saw the view. Truly amazing, he thought to himself.
     Outside the cottage, there was grass for perhaps twenty meters
all around, then the woods closed in around the building's grounds
on all sides but one. On the final side, there was a river with a
small, sandy beach. Giles didn't doubt that the water was safe for
swimming, even if only in the immediate vicinity. The Network would
have made sure of that.
     "When I was little," Buffy was saying, "we had this place on
the beach where we'd go on weekends. I was in like, third grade,
and it was the best time...dad would take me out on this
motorboat..."
     Giles nodded, the smile on his own face mirroring the one on
Buffy's as they stared silently out into the sunlight, the water,
and the woods.
                                *
     By nightfall, the movers had arrived. The house was now,
instead of being empty, full to the gills and then some. Giles
hadn't realized how much of his things he had kept in Sunnydale
High's Library and then in storage, nor had he understood fully
just how much Buffy was capable of keeping in the one room she had
been using at his apartment.
     After a sparse dinner consisting of pasta and salad, Buffy had
gone out to sit on the porch swing, and Giles had stayed inside to
tidy up and read. He had completely lost track of time, surprised
by how easily he had lost himself in the texts, until the clock
chimed midnight. Looking up from his research, the Watcher realized
that Buffy was still out on the front porch. A quick glance out the
window confirmed the notion, and not wanting to wake her, Giles
decided it would be easy enough to simply bring a blanket out to
ward off pneumonia or a cold, and let her spend the rest of the
night in the cool night air.
     He rifled through one of the boxes until he found the
bedclothes, then took the thick quilt Buffy had appropriated months
ago and moved toward the doorway, opening the heavy door with extra
care, hoping he wouldn't wake her.
     She was curled up on the swing, which in turn was moving back
and forth, back and forth, slowly in the night breeze that came off
the water. Her hair, pulled back in a ponytail since they had left
Sunnydale that morning, was blowing gently in her face. Her
expression was one of happy contentment. The lack of fear, the way
years of pain and fear fell from her features when she was unaware,
was startling at first. Giles had seen her sleeping, however,
enough to know that at least now, she was safe, not fearing
anything.
     He was glad she could feel that way here, so easily, and
supposed it had to do with the Network's placement of the cottage.
They tended to select psychic "blind spots" to build in, areas that
for whatever reason, be it physical features or connections with
the spirit world, were quieter in all mystical ways than the
general environment a human or Slayer would live in.
     As Giles moved to put the blanket over Buffy's sleeping form,
he heard something whisper in the trees behind him. Letting go of
the blanket, he turned and looked up to the edge of the clearing
that surrounded the house. "Someone there?" he called, keeping his
voice low, but strong.
     "One," came the response.
     Giles raised an eyebrow. The voice was neither threatening nor
commanding, but simply present. "Who?" he asked, his mind already
racing to try and determine what sort of person or thing could be
here.
     "Quirin," was the answer.
     Giles nodded slowly. "Step into the light," he said, keeping
his eyes trained on the new arrival. The mystery visitor did as
ordered, taking a step into the light that shone through the
windows of the cottage's living room. And as soon as he did, Giles
felt his breath catch in his throat.
     Garou. Flesh-eater. Hunters of the Wyrm. The bastard children
of Gaia. The words, labels he had read in book after book over the
years, blazed across Giles' mind as he took a step back toward
Buffy. It was a full second before he remembered that second only
to their objective to keep Gaia pure, the Garou were dedicated to
the eradication of the Wyrm.
     And that they had saved both himself and Buffy, only a few
weeks before.
     Putting away the prejudices that had been burned into his mind
years ago, Giles cleared his throat and offered the Garou, Quirin,
a smile which showed no teeth. Like a wolf or a large dog, the
Garou took the baring of teeth to be a challenge to their
authority, and Giles was far from prepared to challenge an aging
werewolf to a battle of supremacy.
     "She is well?" Though in human form, the Garou still displayed
the shaggy, unkempt, yet somehow dignified look common to the
eldest of it's kind. The words weren't so much as question as they
were a greeting, a way of establishing that the two had met
previously. Perhaps, Giles thought, a way of expressing that the
Quirin meant neither him nor Buffy harm.
     And yet, if he was in human form, then he must have eaten
human flesh. Recently.
     As though following Giles' thoughts from his expression, the
Garou smiled slightly, also not showing teeth, and shook his head.
"There are always deaths," he said quietly. "Embalming chemicals
are at odds with Gaia, and so we purify them."
     Grave robbing, then. Giles felt a shudder of disgust run
through him before he squelched the labeling instinct and nodded.
"Of course." After all, it was the fact that they had been in human
form when he and Buffy had needed their assistance New Year's Eve
that had kept both Watcher and Slayer from death.
     "She is well?" the Quirin asked again.
     Giles followed the Garou's glance to the Slayer, and nodded.
"Physically, at least," he replied.
     The Garou nodded, with what might have been an expression of
regret. "She hurts, inside. She has no faith to heal."
     "In all honesty," Giles said, his voice soft, "I don't think
she has the faith to do much of anything but fight, these days."
And even that, he doubted. Why he was sharing this with a Garou, he
didn't know. Somehow, it seemed that perhaps the other could
understand. Something in the way the werewolf carried himself, the
way his eyes seemed expressive and aware not only in the way of
humans, but also in the same way as dogs Giles had kept had seemed
at times. Caring, loyal. Though, Giles reminded himself, thinking
of the Garou as mere house-pets had led more than one man to his
death in the past.
     "I see," was Quirin's only response. A few seconds passed,
both Giles and the Garou looking at Buffy's sleeping form, before
the Garou spoke. "Perhaps she needs something to believe in," the
Garou offered.
     Giles smiled slightly, a sort of bitterness in the expression.
"Perhaps," he said. But what? She had already been betrayed by
friends, by life, by fate itself when it she had been called as the
Slayer. What more was there? "Believing in herself isn't something
that comes easily for her," he said.
     "In the end," the Garou said, his voice quiet, "she is all she
has to believe in."
     "No," Giles replied. "There are people, such as myself, who
wouldn't have her in pain for all the world." The sudden
recollection of the look in Angel's eyes at the hospital on New
Year's Eve rushed back at him, and Giles had to push it away. "But
even we can't keep pain from touching her."
     "Then she lives as Gaia would have it," Quirin said quietly,
"and she must learn to deal with that fact."
     Giles shook his head, brushing a lock of hair from where it
had fallen across Buffy's eyes. "You think nature could be so
cruel?" he asked.
     "Nature," the Garou told him, his voice passionless and
accepting, one which believed so fully in the words he was
speaking, "can be the cruelest force around us. She can also be the
kindest, the one that most makes us realize our strengths and the
strengths of those around us." Taking a few steps closer, Quirin
nodded to Buffy. "Gaia and the Fates work closely," he said. A
trace of approval entered his voice. "It is good that you brought
her here. To us."
     "I brought her here for her training," Giles said. "Because
the Network gave us this place."
     "It is land, how can they give that?"
     "They purchased--" Giles broke off, remembering that the Garou
acknowledged no claim of ownership on Gaia's mysteries. "I brought
her here to heal," he amended.
     Quirin nodded in what might have been approval. "Then she will
heal," he said.
     There were a few seconds of silence, then Giles nodded. "I
hope so," he said.
     "She will," Quirin repeated. Tossing a glance back over his
shoulder, the Garou shook his head. "I must leave," he said. "One
of the she-wolves brings a child into Gaia's glory, tonight." He
offered a slight smile. "You understand."
     Giles nodded.
     "Tell her she will heal," Quirin said softly, the smile that
pierced through his almost wolfish features easy to see. "Tell her
to nurture her faith."
     "I will," Giles replied. It was all he had done, all he would
do until she healed.
     With a nod of approval, the Garou turned and vanished into the
shadows.
     Giles cast a look down at his Slayer, surprised that she
hadn't so much as stirred during his conversation with Quirin.
Perhaps, he thought, it would be best if they both spent the night
inside tonight. It wasn't that he distrusted the Garou, he told
himself, though he in no way believed that assertion. It was simply
that he wanted to keep her safe. "Buffy," he said, shaking her
gently. "Buffy, wake up."
     She stirred under his hands, her eyes opening as she looked at
him. "Whuh?" she said quietly.
     "I think you'd best go inside," Giles said, offering her a
hand so she could get herself out of the porch swing. "You've
fallen asleep."
     Buffy nodded slightly, tiredly, letting him raise her up from
the swing and guide her inside, then upstairs to the room she had
picked as her own earlier in the day.
     By the time he had put the Slayer to bed, Giles realized it
was well past midnight, and so he too went to sleep.

~
(More to come)
~

Comments to [e-mail], please.

------------------------------

Date: Thu, 13 Aug 1998 01:33:10 EDT
From: <[e-mail]>
Subject: BUFFYFIC: "Faith" -- "Part Three: The Path of Thorns" (3b/9)

Feedback: YES! Please! I eagerly await it!

See part one for all disclaimers and notes.

~

     "Recovery," Laisa began, "is never something simple."
     "She fights the Wyrm," Quirin repeated, for what might have
been the hundreth time this meeting of council.
     "You propose that she could recover with such little help,"
Laisa said, her tone saying plainly that she thought such a claim
ludicrous.
     "Not with little help," Quirin corrected, "but rather, with a
small amount of the correct variety of help. For one so strong, so
vital to the destruction of Caine's breed--"
     "Another would come in her stead," came another voice.
     Quirin shot an angered look across the room, shaking his head.
Tambrin was intelligent, yet at the same time so short-sighted.
Luckily, the other Garou was young and held in a regard that was
far less than what Quirin had at his disposal. "It would mean one
dreamwalking," he said. "And it would expose the Slayer to the ways
of the Garou. Such knowledge can only help her in her battle."
     That brought the conversation to a halt. Quirin allowed
himself a slight, inward smile. If the other Garou did not help
him, he would simply go against council's ruling and assist the
Slayer on his own. They had to understand that, if nothing else.
And his skill and age would make them realize they could not act
easily against him. He smiled slightly, letting the barest hint of
a curved fang show.
     The gesture was not lost on Laisa. "You would challenge us,"
she said simply.
     "I think this a worthy cause," Quirin replied.
     The matriarch of the pack looked at him for a few long
moments, before breaking gaze. When she did so, Quirin felt a pang
of satisfaction. That was all there was to it, in such dealings as
these. He had his way, the Slayer would be given the assistance of
the Garou and all they held dear.
     In time, she would heal.
                                *
     Weeks in the country air had left Buffy feeling stronger, more
centered than she had in a long time. Though there was still a knot
of pain, of self-hatred deep inside her, she could push it aside
these days in favor of her training and of the life that happened
all around her, constantly.
     What she couldn't put behind her was the dreams.
     She sipped a cafe mocha while Giles stirred his tea across the
table, and when she sighed slightly, he looked up. "Something
wrong?" her Watcher asked.
     "I had another one of those dreams," Buffy confessed, knowing
Giles would worry, but also knowing that out here, away from
everything she had known growing up, she had to trust the only
other person around her.
     Giles gave her an interested nod, though Buffy could tell it
wasn't what she would have received if he still wasn't worried that
she would take off on him. She sighed inwardly, wondering how long
it would be before he realized that she wasn't going to ditch him
again. She had tried it once, when she had run away after sending
Angel to Hell. It hadn't worked. She wasn't going to try it again,
thinking something might change so she could run away from her
past.
     "I was in the faerie circle," she said, referring to the
circle of violets that grew about a half-mile from the cottage,
which she and Giles had found on a hike one day. He had told her
how in ancient myths and legends, a circle of violets meant that
the faerie had blessed a place, left their mark to prove their
existence to the world. It had become the place she went when she
needed time alone, away from even her Watcher.
     "And?"
     "There was someone else there," she continued, "but I couldn't
see who."
     "Male or female?"
     "I'm not sure," she confessed as she took a sip of her coffee,
"but if I had to, I'd say it was male." She waited for Giles to
nod, then continued. "And it told me--"
     "What was the voice like?"
     "Quiet. Soothing. It told me to look for light in darkness."
     Giles nodded, looking at her across his tea as he sipped it.
"I see."
     "So," she asked, "what do you think it means?"
     Her Watcher was silent for a long time, and as Buffy watched
him she wondered what it would be like to have so much information
on call. She didn't need to know things-- Giles knew them, so she
could get information on request at simply a word. It spoiled her,
but it was also far too convenient for her to try and improve her
own knowledge base.
     "It wasn't a Slayer dream," she said quickly, adding that bit
of information. Most of the time, when she dreamed, it was of
horrifying and bloody things, people she didn't know, times she had
never been aware of. Slayer's dreams. It was rare that she dreamed
like this, without vampires or blood or terror. The night before
had held only a calm. Something she had been encountering more and
more since she and Giles had moved to the cottage.
     Giles nodded slowly, clearly thinking hard about what she had
told him. "Can you tell me anything else, about the other person in
your dream?"
     Buffy thought another moment, closing her eyes and trying to
remember what more there had been. Grass, the violets, the presence
of another. The warm feeling of another body beside hers, and the
knowledge that she was anything but alone, despite the lack of
clear figures around her. "His eyes," she said softly as two bright
orbs of blackness popped into her mind's eye. "They were black.
With...yellow slits. Irises."
     Across the table, she could hear Giles take in a quick breath.
"I see," he said.
     She opened her eyes, looking at him. "What?" she asked.
     "Nothing," he replied.
     She shook her head. "No," she said. "You only make that kind
of noise when you hit something...what?"
     Giles was silent, and Buffy set her jaw. "Giles," she said,
"You agreed, no shielding me from things anymore. You have to tell
me."
     For a few seconds, she was afraid her Watcher might refuse.
Then, he sighed and nodded. "Very well," he aquiesced. "It might
have been a dreamwalker."
     "A which?"
     "Dreamwalker," Giles repeated, taking another sip ofh is tea.
"They're specific members of a Garou community, charged with--"
     "Garou?"
     "Werewolves, of a sort," Giles explained. When he saw Buffy's
look of utter incomprehension, he elaborated. "Oz," he said, "will
eventually become a Garou, provided that he accepts and learns to
control the beast inside him."
     "And that means...?"
     "Garou are...mature werewolves," Giles explained, clearly
stumbling for a way to communicate the ideas Buffy wanted to
understand. "They accept the supremacy of Gaia over all nature, and
vow to protect her. They are, are extremely in touch with the world
around them, and live in places like this forest." His nod took in
the house, as well as the woods that surrounded it.
     "Okay," Buffy said, setting her coffee down and watching him.
"What else?" Giles was clearly squirming, at least a little, and
Buffy had the feeling it was important to get this information out
of him, this time at least.
     "They kill vampires," Giles continued. "They also eat human
flesh to retain their human forms during the full moon."
     Buffy felt her expression twist into one of disgust as she
connected that with what Giles had said earlier. Oz would become a
Garou, therefore...*_Oy_,* she thought, before putting the thought
out of her mind. She would cross _that_ bridge when she came to it,
and not a _second_ before. "What's any of that got to do
with...what'd you call it?" she asked, trying to distract herself
from the train of thought that seemed to be preparing to chug along
in her mind at full speed.
     "Dreamwalkers," Giles continued, going into full-lecture mode-
- - something Buffy hadn't seen him do in close to two months-- "are
Garou who walk the world of dreams in order to influence those
around them. Many times, their influence on political forces
involving environmental issues and the like has been suspected by
the Network. But if they're coming to you," he continued, "then I,
I would have to say it was not their sole arena of influence."
     "But what would they want from me?" Buffy asked, giving Giles
a confused look.
     He shook his head. "I don't know," he said. "But..."
     Buffy looked at him, realizing immediately that the look of
discomfort in Giles' eyes was far from something she should
discount. "But what?" she asked.
     Giles shook his head. "You could attempt to contact them," he
said. "But Buffy," he continued quickly, "you must understand, they
have a very odd sense of honor and codes of behavior that mystify
even the most adept members of the Network, there are those who
study Garou customs for years before attempting to make contact,
and even then there are times when the attempts fail and the one
who has tried to make them become--"
     "Giles," Buffy broke in as her intuition sparked, "no lecture-
mode, okay?"
     He looked at her, then sighed. "Buffy," he said, "if the Garou
have been in your dreams, it's altogether possible that the choice
to contacting them isn't your own."
     That was a chilling thought, Buffy had to admit, and yet
somehow she couldn't believe that her own impulses could be so easy
to control that it would be possible to accomplish with a few
dreams and a little hoodoo. "Where can I find them?" she asked.
Giles looked at her for a long moment, and as she stared into his
silent, stony eyes, Buffy realized he had no intention of telling
her. "Giles..." she said, letting the barest hint of warning slip
into her voice.
     "Buffy," he said, "you must understand--"
     "I do," she said. "But this feels like it's something I should
do. I mean, I've been having dreams, right? So maybe it's something
I should--"
     Giles shook his head. "No," he replied.
     "But--"
     "Buffy!" he said suddenly, sharply, shooting up out of his
seat and leaving his teacup behind. "_No_! I will not have you
going off to do-- to meet them."
     "Why not?" she asked.
     "Because," he said, "I don't think it would be a wise
decision."
     "But if they're in my dreams--"
     "Buffy," Giles said, his voice staying firm, "In my capacity
as your friend, not to mention as your Watcher, I am _forbidding_
you to take measures to contact the Garou."
     Buffy stared at him, her eyes wide. A voice in her mind asked,
why would Giles have such an explosive reaction? But she could see
clearly enough, any questions she asked would be refused an answer.
She swallowed, feeling the barest nagging of her conscience as it
realized what she was about to do. She looked at Giles, the
knowledge that this was the first time he had ever given her an
outright refusal sinking in fast. It was a long few seconds before
she nodded, letting her expression slacken a bit. Letting herself
look to be conquered. She gave him nothing but a slight nod.
     Giles' expression softened, and he sighed, walking around the
table to her. "I didn't mean to shout," he said, putting a hand on
her shoulder.
     "I know," Buffy replied softly. She swallowed. "I won't go."
     The bile that rose in her throat as she lied to Giles, the
first big lie she had ever told him, was enough to make her sick.
Then again, she thought, she had been making herself sick for
months. Surely, one more reason to feel this way wouldn't matter.
     Giles squeezed her shoulder a little, then walked out of the
room, saying something about how they had to train today, how she
was improving so much since they had come here. Buffy found herself
deaf to his words, and made no effort to try and pay attention.
                                *
     In the kitchen, washing the plates they had used for their
toast and his own tea cup, Giles fought down the nausea that had
come over him when Buffy had suggested going to the Garou. True,
both he and the Slayer owed the wolf-people their lives, and the
one he had seen their first night here had been nothing but
cordial, but Giles had been taught from the beginning that the
Garou were not to be trifled with. Neither he nor Buffy knew enough
about them to chance a visit. Neither of them was strong enough to
defend themselves, if a mistake were made in communications.
     Luckily, he thought to himself, the fact that she had been
through so much pain hadn't made her want to defy him. He had never
told her that before, never expressly stated the authority that he
had over her. He hoped to God it wouldn't make her stop trusting
him.
     He turned off the water faucet, then picked up the towel to
dry the mug and plates off, and once that had done he opened the
cupboard door to put the dishes away.
     "Blast!" he exclaimed, as one of the plates slipped from his
hand, shattering on the floor. Shards of glass went skittering
across the floor, several clearing the kitchen and going through
the doorway to the dining room, where he and Buffy had been sitting
a few moments ago.
     "Buffy," he called as he crouched to gather the shards closest
to him, "Would, would you mind just bringing those pieces in here,
the dish..."
     He trailed off when he realized there was no response from the
other room. "Buffy?" he called again.
     Again, no answer.
     Not quite knowing what he should think of her sudden silence,
wondering if it were possible that his refusal to allow her to
speak with the Garou might have had more of a negative effect on
his Slayer than he had intended, Giles stood, dropping the shards
of glass he had already gathered in the garbage can as he passed it
on his way into the dining room.
     Giles' eyes widened as he looked around the now-empty room,
realizing that Buffy was no longer seated and her coffee had been
left behind.
     "Buffy..." Giles whispered as the realization of what had just
happened hit him at the speed of light, with the force of a load of
cement. He shook his head, his heart already having sunken into his
stomach. "Damn it, Buffy," he whispered again.
     She had lied to him. Though there was no evidence that she had
done anything but go for a walk, Giles somehow knew, felt it deep
inside. She had lied to him. She had gone to meet the Garou.
     Forgetting the mess that had been left behind, forgetting
anything but that his Slayer had left and was possibly in a great
deal of danger, Giles took only the time necessary to pull on the
pair of sneakers he had brought with him before going out the door,
running as fast as he could despite knowing he couldn't outrun the
Slayer, toward the faerie circle that was located a half-mile away.

~

Comments to [e-mail], please!

------------------------------

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