Taming the Muse Prompt 59, BoaS Part 43/44, More grievous torment, BtVS, PG

[thismaz]

So this is the last proper chapter. There will be an epilogue next week, prompt permitting, but I wanted to take this opportunity to thank you, my regular readers and commenters for your continued support for this story as it has hit the page. Writing in response to the prompt is fun, using the prompt and still tying the story up in the way I needed it to go, has been a challenge. Your comments have been hugely helpful and always make my Sunday mornings such a pleasure. *hugs you*

And this is my 52nd story in a row on Taming the Muse. Wow!

Oh, and there's a meta type question at the end, which I don't want to ask here, because of spoilers.

Title: More grievous torment
Part 43 of 43 plus epilogue of the Blood on a Sundial series.
Previous parts, in reverse order, are here or in my memories.
Fandom: BtVS
Prompt: #59 - Desolate
At: tamingthemuse
Summary: Spike, Xander, AU in Season 2. We are talking slow burn here, people.
Disclaimer: here.
Rating: Pg
Word Count: 3,513
Many, many thanks to DJ for his help with this chapter.



43. More grievous torment

Spike raised his head weakly and glared at The Beast, his right hand twitched where it lay across his chest, two fingers straight while the others were curled into the palm, but the effort appeared to be too much and he collapsed back to the floor.

Walking away to face the altar, from where he had first appeared, Khalroth raised his voice and cried, "I call on Black Wind. With the favour granted by this halfling, I call. Come and fulfil your promise. Make this warrior whole."

Turning to Xander, who was leaning against the invisible walls that confined him, he added conversationally. "He'll be here soon."

Xander snarled, "Let me out. Let me out of here, right now!" The walls disappeared before he had even finished speaking and he staggered forwards, only preventing himself falling flat on his face by the use of his shotgun as a prop. Recovering, he rushed across the cavern to Spike's side, falling to his knees by Spike's shoulder and putting his ear to the still chest, stupidly searching for a heartbeat before he came to his senses. "Spike?" he whispered, his hand hovering above the bloody mess that was Spike's stomach, afraid to touch, afraid to leave him be. "Spike, open your eyes. You're not dust, so you're not dead. Come on! Wake up, damn you!"

Slowly Spike's eyes cracked open and he gazed up into Xander's face. "I knew," he breathed. "I knew it could be. William was right." He stifled a groan behind tight lips and took another shallow breath. "I'm sorry, pet. Run! Run now, because I won't remember this, once..." His eyes closed again and his head fell back limply on the sand and this time he stayed still.

Xander turned to look up at Khalroth who smiled. "You can't run anywhere, you're mine, human."

In spite of the fear that ran like an icy chill down Xander's spine, he gathered his courage and stood, gripping his shotgun and holding it ready in front of his hips. He swallowed to moisten his dry mouth and gritted out, "You've made a mistake. Everybody makes a mistake sometime, and this was yours." The Beast cocked his head to one side questioningly and Xander took a deep breath. "You forgot something - you declared your champion, but you didn't give Spike a chance to declare his. I'm a soldier. Do you know what a soldier is?" Inside he was terrified, but he concentrated on keeping his voice firm and his hands steady. "I am Spike's champion!" he announced as he raised his shotgun and fired straight into the face of the creature at Khalroth's side, backing up as he fired: one of silver, one of iron and two of Lignum vitae. The creature squealed again, more violently than before and began to shudder, the spines on its back vibrating as it reared up, its forefeet lifting a foot off the ground and it's head tossing from side to side. With a final ear piercing whistle, which ended in a guttural wheeze, the creature sank to the floor and rolled onto it's side. Frantically, Xander tried to remember what the next round was charged with as he pumped it into the breech and the spent shell casing fell to the floor.

Swinging the shotgun away from the mess that was the pig-creature, he pointed it at Khalroth, who stared down at his fallen champion with shock. "What have you done?" Khalroth gasped.

Xander shifted to stand astride Spike's unconscious body. "It's called the 'Wood of Life' for a reason, mate," he said viciously. "So, champion to champion, I'd say my side wins, wouldn't you?"

The Beast knelt and laid a craggy hand on his champion's still flank, almost petting the bristly hair. He looked up at Xander. "This changes things."

Whatever else The Beast may have been about to add was interrupted by a deep, warm laugh and a slow clap of hands. Xander spun to face the sound, shotgun raised, and there was Black Wind, wearing a knitted wool beanie which caused the ends of his hair to stick out sideways from beneath it, faded jeans, battered sneakers, a shapeless brown coat with huge sagging pockets and a smile. Xander lowered his weapon and turned back to The Beast, speaking over his shoulder to Black Wind, "Hello, old man, sir," he said and, in spite of everything, he found himself smiling at the sound of Black Wind's appreciative chuckle. "Can you help Spike?" he asked.

There was a rustling sound behind him, but he didn't look back, keeping his attention fixed on The Beast and trusting in Black Wind to do whatever was necessary, although he did relax slightly when Black Wind replied, "Yes, I can patch him up, so he won't bleed out. He'll live, so to speak. You carry on with your negotiations, I'll look after your friend here."

Right, negotiations. What the hell did that mean? Xander looked at The Beast, who, while still ugly as sin, didn't seem so all powerful, now that his champion was dead. He shrugged. "So, I guess that means I'm not yours after all, huh?" he said. "And if I'm not mistaken, we win a gem. Want to bring that out here?"

"Come," Khalroth instructed as he turned and walked over to the altar. Xander followed and watched as Khalroth pressed one of the carvings on its side. There was a grinding sound and slowly a small pedestal raised itself above the surface of the altar, exposing a large diamond to view. Khalroth picked up the gem and held it out on the flat palm of his hand.

Xander gazed at it in awe. It was almost an inch across at its widest point. "Wow," he gasped as he reached out and took it. An almost sensual quiver ran up his arm to his shoulder and settled in his chest. Suddenly he felt smug and happy. "This is the Gem of Amara? It's impressive."

The Beast's hands twitched, as if he wanted to snatch it back. "No, stupid mortal. It's the Gem of Endless Being. The gem your master wanted and challenged me for."

A shiver of dread snaked down Xander's spine, dislodging the warmth from the gem. "Er, no," he said, hoping that this was just a case of mistaken baubles. "We came for the Gem of Amara. So why don't you quit stalling and pull it from where ever you have it hidden?"

It was strange hearing exasperation coming from such a pug-ugly face. "The Gem of Amara is in the Valley of the Sun, not here, mortal. This is my gem, which your Master has now won."

Feeling somewhat out of his depth, Xander cast a quick glance over his shoulder, but Spike was still out and Black Wind was busy working a bandage around his middle. Xander turned back to Khalroth. "So, what does this one do then?"

"This is the gem that balances the world," Khalroth announced, and what was it with demon types that they had to be so pompous all the time?

"And I've won that?"

"Your master has won that, through your efforts." Khalroth corrected.

Xander nodded slowly, he had a bad feeling about this. That was a pretty big name to go with a pretty impressive bit of crystal and Xander's spider senses were tingling like crazy. "And what happens when we take it?" he asked cautiously.

"You don't take it," The Beast said. "The responsibility of the balance is now yours. Now, I have to leave and you become its guardians. Eventually a challenger will arrive and defeat you. Or not. Until then, you will stay here. When you are finally defeated, you will still stay here, but your master will be in my place and take his leave."

Sometimes Xander wished that his spider senses weren't so freaking accurate. Placing the gem carefully back on its stand, he took his shotgun in both hands and glared up at The Beast's face. "Oh no!" he declared. "That can't be right! That's not what we came for. We don't want that."

There was flicker of something in Khalroth's eyes as he gazed back. "You have no choice. You challenged for the gem and this is the gem you won."

With a groan Xander turned away and walked back the few yards to Spike's side, checking how Black Wind was getting on with his bandaging, before he turned back to The Beast. "But there must be a way?" he said. "Something we can do. Some other thing?"

Khalroth's smile was not reassuring. "Do you cede the victory to me then?"

Xander narrowed his eyes. "And what happens if I do?"

"You can leave," The Beast said with a careless shrug.

But Xander figured that anybody who proudly announced that their name was 'The Beast' and threatened to turn Spike into a pure, evil demon was unlikely to suddenly become a straight talker, so he decided to get as much information as possible and hope he didn't miss anything important. "And I take Spike with me?" he asked.

"Ah, no. If you cede victory, I keep the gem and your master dies. But I'll let you go."

Xander pursed his lips in thought. He hated being this responsible, but Black Wind seemed to be deliberately keeping out of it, leaving him the only candidate still standing. "We need a compromise," he said, staring straight up into The Beast's eyes. "At the moment, we have the gem, but it turns out we don't want it. You seem to want it back. So let's think about this and see if we can't work it out?"

"Umm, excuse me," Black Wind interrupted the staring contest and stood to address Khalroth, "Fascinating as this dilemma is for you," he agreed, tentatively, "I have a shop to run. You called me here to do a job. Maybe we can get to that first?"

The Beast, shifted his gaze to Black Wind and nodded. "Yes, I called you to fulfil the favour you owe me, but things have changed, I have a different call."

With a shake of his head, Black Wind knelt back down on one knee and finished tying off the bandages that covered Spike's torso. Xander noticed that Black Wind had straightened Spike's limbs and that Spike's eyes were now open. He appeared to be listening carefully to the exchange and his face had relaxed, so hopefully Black Wind had been able to do something for the pain, as well.

"You have already asked your favour," Black Wind explained, without looking away from his task. "You asked me to make Spike whole. You cannot now change your mind."

Spike rolled his head on the ground in denial. "No, Black Wind," he whispered. "I can't be that." From where he stood, Xander couldn't see Black Wind's face, but Spike suddenly fell silent, his face going blank and Xander felt like a glass wall had formed between him and the intimacy of their communication.

"There is an alternative." Black Wind suggested. "The call was to make you whole. I can make you whole by giving you your soul."

The Beast interrupted "That's not what I asked for. You play tricks, shaman."

Black Wind's expression of contempt would have withered Xander on the spot, if it had been directed at him. "As did you. And like you, I break no rules." He turned back to Spike, placing a calming hand on Spike's shoulder, as if holding him down. "In fact, I would claim to stay closer to the spirit of the rules than you did when you gained the favour from the vampire in the first place.

Spike's face twisted in anguished denial as he groaned, "It's that or lose my memories of William?"

"That's what Khalroth wants."

Spike raised his head and gazed at them, all gathered around him. He looked desolate, like there was nowhere further he could fall. He focussed on Xander and a strange series of expressions flitted across his face: sorrow, regret, wonder, pride. Finally he turned to Black Wind. "So I get to be a poof like my grandsire, or some sort of work slave to the higher powers of darkness?" He closed his eyes for a moment and when he reopened them there was a new determination there. "Okay, you old bastard. Do it! I'll live with the consequences. Give me my bloody soul!"

Khalroth roared. "Stop! This is my call. You don't get the choice on which direction you go." He pointed at Black Wind. "I demand he be made pure. Take his humanity!"

From feeling like he was standing on the edge of the conversation, Xander suddenly felt it rush back at him with the impact of a freight train. "Hang on!" he cried. "Taking his memories, you can't do that." He looked at Black Wind beseechingly and added quietly, "You can't, can you?"

Black Wind looked thoughtful. "I could," he said. "Technically, I could." A smile curved his lips and lit his eyes. "But there were terms attached to the favour I granted - nothing that would compromise my magic in any way resembling what the watchers wanted from me. And to take such a big part of Spike away from him, would be to compromise his integrity as a vampire. You should always check the details of a contract, before you cash it in. By definition vampires are what you call halflings." He noticed Khalroth open his mouth and continued quickly. "But you asked for me to make him whole." He grinned. "And that I can do. I can give him his soul and the favour is paid."

Xander stared at Black Wind, aghast. "But, but, you're going to drag William out of heaven? Just so you can be free of a debt?"

Black Wind shook his head "No, boy!" He threw up his hands, then took a deep breath and it seemed that he decided to explain. "You know the word 'ego'?" he asked.

Xander nodded cautiously.

"Well, know this: 'soul' and 'ego' have nothing to do with each other! It is a Christian thing, to believe that the soul carries the personality, because you can't imagine the concept of 'you' without your self image, your 'ego'. William is dead and long gone to his reward. I'm going to give Spike his own soul." He must have read Xander's incomprehension from his face, because he tried again. "The closest term you Christians have for what it is, is 'conscience', but even that is woefully inadequate. It is a soul and it will be Spike's soul!"

Xander felt as if the world had started spinning backwards "But the only vampire with a soul is Angel, and his was a curse. You're going to curse Spike?"

With a grimace Black Wind opened his mouth to answer, but Khalroth interrupted, spluttering with indignation. "I take it back! I'll keep the favour."

Shaking his head in mock regret, Black Wind disagreed, "I'm so sorry," he said, sweetly, "but you can't do that. You asked and I will fulfil your wish. I couldn't take William out of Spike and leave him whole, but giving a soul will not destroy the vampire and, as the boy says, there's a precedent." Forestalling The Beast's repeated objection he added, "Nor can you cancel without my agreement. And since I don't want the shadow of a favour owed to you hanging over my head like a bad smell, you get the favour you asked for, or you grant it back to me, unpaid.

"You've been hiding in here for centuries. You wanted to turn Spike free as pure demon, to curry favour with the powers you offended. So, how's this as an alternative? Instead you turn him free with a soul. Wouldn't you prefer to stay here? If I give Spike his soul, he can't be the gem's guardian. So, he'll have to return it to you. If I don't, he will stay here, and you will leave.

"I know it's not usual, but it's not actually against the Lore, if you," he pointed at Xander, "on behalf of your, er, on behalf of your vampire, cede the gem back to Khalroth here, while you," pointing at The Beast this time, "cede the vampire back to the Champion and let them leave. The only downside I can see is that you," still pointing at Khalroth, "will have to be your own champion from now on, unless you can persuade some other dumb beast with a love of gore and glory to join you?"

By the time he'd finished, Khalroth was wearing a small smug smile, although he did add one more token protest. "It will disturb the balance too much."

Black Wind waved a dismissive hand. "Nah, not a bit of it. It might be a small act of magnanimity on your part," Khalroth winced, "but it's balanced by an act of pure selfishness on the part of the human." He shrugged. "It all balances out." He studied the demon. "And you don't really want to be back out there, do you, with all the politics and intrigue?" Khalroth shuddered, but probably for a different reason this time.

Xander gazed at Black Wind in shock. "It's that easy? It can't be that easy."

With another shrug Black Wind spared him a glance, but immediately returned his attention back to The Beast. "No, it's not easy at all, but it is not complex."

Reluctantly Khalroth nodded and Black Wind placed his hand on Spike's chest. There was a pause, then the air seemed to crackle and the torches around the walls spluttered, before flaring brighter than before. Xander saw a clear blue-white glow form around Black Wind's hand. It seemed to burn through his flesh, so Xander could see the individual bones stand out dark against the glare. Spike stiffened and his back arched away from the floor as the light sank into his chest, and he screamed.

Rising shakily to his feet, Black Wind swayed as he turned and nodded to The Beast. Xander reached out to catch him and for a moment the shaman braced himself against Xander's strength, resting his head on Xander's shoulder. His chest and back heaved with the effort of breathing.

After a moment that felt like an hour, Black Wind looked up. "Come child," he said, "let me help you get this poor creature out of here." He stepped away from Xander and together they hoisted Spike onto his feet. Taking an arm each, across their own shoulders, they half supported, half dragged Spike to the entrance of the cavern.

They staggered out into the passage way, heading once more for the open mountainside. At the entrance Black Wind paused and with Xander's help, propped Spike up on a rocky outcrop. He reached into his pockets and pulled out a couple of bags of blood. "Here," he instructed. "You open these, while I check that the bandage held, so it doesn't pour straight out again."

Xander retrieved their back packs and dug in the side pocket of his own for a pen knife. "Was that true?" he asked. "What you said about Spike with a soul not being able to be guardian of the gem?"

Looking back over his shoulder Black Wind winked "Maybe," he said. "Or maybe I was creative with the truth." He laughed. "Demons! You know what? Once you get past all the pomp and ceremony, they're still unprincipled, tricky bastards, but they're much more natural about it. That gem is powerful and it will infect a soul, if there's a soul nearby." He shrugged and took the first opened bag from Xander and held it to Spike's mouth. "It doesn't matter. I knew being stuck in there for eternity would drive Spike crazy and anyway, he still owes me a favour."

Spike was only half conscious, but he could apparently drink on autopilot and the blood mostly disappeared down his throat on the inside. Once he had emptied both bags, Black Wind shouldered Spike's pack and between them they hauled him up and dragged him out of the cave mouth, into the night.

As the fresh mountain air hit his face, Spike roused. He shook his head, as if confused, looking along his shoulder at Xander. "You gotta stop doin' this, y'know?" he slurred.

"Doing what?"

"Rescuing me, like I'm some bleeding damsel in distress. I told y'to run."

"Well, you were bleeding," Xander pointed out. Off Spike's exasperated expression he added, "So you want us to leave you here to fry, do you?" He glanced at his watch. "Sun's up in just over two hours. Or do you want a hand?" he asked, as he took a stronger hold on Spike's wrist.

Spike attempted to answer, but all he could manage was the raising of one finger in salute.





Note: The title is another quote from the poem Lamia, by Keats, although the application of the context is doubtful. *g*

Question: So, have I solved the problem that I've come across in a number of stories, about how a vampire can get a soul without an injustice being perpetrated on a dead human soul? Not to mention the fact that I do believe Angel and Angelus were the same creature and the sins committed by Angelus were Angel's to atone for.

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