BtVS: "Fearing the Wilderness"
Nov. 5th, 2005 09:07 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
alixtiiTitle: Fearing the Wilderness
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Characters: Drusilla, Buffy, Dawn
Rating: PG-13
Timeline/Spoilers: Around “Destiny,” more or less.
Wordcount: 671
Summary: Buffy and Dawn find Drusilla in Romania. But only Drusilla knows hat is really going on.
Author's notes: Can I just say that this is one off my better Dru voices? Part of Windows of My Soul: A![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
fanfic100 Drusilla Project. The prompt is #022, "Enemies."
Fearing the Wilderness
Drusilla pulled the crossbow bolt out of her chest and raised her eyes to see where it had come from. Grrr, she thought as she saw Solomon and Jezebel sparring with the Slayer. She hoped they liked being dust. Drusilla didn't like dust; Angelus had taught her to bathe everyday even though her mother had told her never to take a bath; he preferred her white skin to be unblemished. Sometimes he himself would bathe her, sometimes Darla; sometimes he would bathe her in blood.
But the Slayer was fighting the two vampires with stake in hand; there was no crossbow near her. Drusilla turned her gaze, searching for the winged bolt’s hidden archer. There it was, the crossbow, held by the pretty blur of energy. The Key. Drusilla could see through the guise the Key wore, that of a beautifully appetizing adolescent girl, to the destructive energy that was beneath it, ready to burst out of its fleshy prison and open all the doors to other worlds, worlds without shrimp and worse. Much, much worse.
"Damn," muttered Drusilla. "Neither Miss Muffet nor her big sister were invited to play. Now we must do this in a different way." She grabbed the gypsy woman by the hair and, with her vampire strength, lifted her right off the ground, ignoring the old woman's cries of pain. No, not ignoring—taking pleasure in them. But there was no time for such delights, not when the purplish energy was firing her crossbow. There was too much chance that the Key might actually hit her heart. "We'll have to play somewhere else," Drusilla hissed, as she drug the gypsy woman along.
Wait. She needed something—the stars were trying to tell her. She stopped and concentrated. Thesula, the stars said. The crystal sphere in front of Drusilla—it was like the world, only smaller and clearer and without the frogs. She would need it. She grabbed it with her free hand and rushed away. Behind her she could hear Jezebel turning to dust. It wouldn't be long before Solomon joined her, and the wind would blow their ashes around and they would be together for ever and ever. It would be oh so romantic if the two had ever been able to tolerate each other.
Drusilla scurried along, the Orb of Thesula in one hand and the gypsy woman in the other. She needed to escape the Slayer and her Key of a sister, escape to a place where they would be safe and could have tea, where the sun would not rise and turn her to dust like the Slayer turned Solomon and Jezebel to dust, like children turn to dust when one leaves them in the ground too long.
A forest loomed in front of her. A wilderness, where she could spend 40 days like the Christ whose cross burned her skin. (She had learned all about the Christ, in a different life so long ago. Her mother had told her that when she died she would join the Christ in heaven. Well, she was dead, and what did the Christ do but mock her from His cross she could not touch?) She could stay alive on the gypsy woman, if she had to, the old woman and all of the creatures of the forest, the wolf and the ram and the hart, the lion and the tiger and the bear. . . .
For a moment, she heard her Spike's voice in her head: You're in Romania, ducks, not the jungle. There aren't any lions and tigers. That's what her Spike would say. She would have her Spike back, have him back very soon. But there were creatures in the forest that no one knew about, except those who knew the darkest secrets of the Old Country, or those who, like Drusilla, had the stars to whisper those secrets to them. There was power in the forest, power that the Romanian people rightly feared.
The Slayer would learn to fear that power.
Go to the Windows of My Soul masterlist.
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Characters: Drusilla, Buffy, Dawn
Rating: PG-13
Timeline/Spoilers: Around “Destiny,” more or less.
Wordcount: 671
Summary: Buffy and Dawn find Drusilla in Romania. But only Drusilla knows hat is really going on.
Author's notes: Can I just say that this is one off my better Dru voices? Part of Windows of My Soul: A
fanfic100 Drusilla Project. The prompt is #022, "Enemies."Fearing the Wilderness
Drusilla pulled the crossbow bolt out of her chest and raised her eyes to see where it had come from. Grrr, she thought as she saw Solomon and Jezebel sparring with the Slayer. She hoped they liked being dust. Drusilla didn't like dust; Angelus had taught her to bathe everyday even though her mother had told her never to take a bath; he preferred her white skin to be unblemished. Sometimes he himself would bathe her, sometimes Darla; sometimes he would bathe her in blood.
But the Slayer was fighting the two vampires with stake in hand; there was no crossbow near her. Drusilla turned her gaze, searching for the winged bolt’s hidden archer. There it was, the crossbow, held by the pretty blur of energy. The Key. Drusilla could see through the guise the Key wore, that of a beautifully appetizing adolescent girl, to the destructive energy that was beneath it, ready to burst out of its fleshy prison and open all the doors to other worlds, worlds without shrimp and worse. Much, much worse.
"Damn," muttered Drusilla. "Neither Miss Muffet nor her big sister were invited to play. Now we must do this in a different way." She grabbed the gypsy woman by the hair and, with her vampire strength, lifted her right off the ground, ignoring the old woman's cries of pain. No, not ignoring—taking pleasure in them. But there was no time for such delights, not when the purplish energy was firing her crossbow. There was too much chance that the Key might actually hit her heart. "We'll have to play somewhere else," Drusilla hissed, as she drug the gypsy woman along.
Wait. She needed something—the stars were trying to tell her. She stopped and concentrated. Thesula, the stars said. The crystal sphere in front of Drusilla—it was like the world, only smaller and clearer and without the frogs. She would need it. She grabbed it with her free hand and rushed away. Behind her she could hear Jezebel turning to dust. It wouldn't be long before Solomon joined her, and the wind would blow their ashes around and they would be together for ever and ever. It would be oh so romantic if the two had ever been able to tolerate each other.
Drusilla scurried along, the Orb of Thesula in one hand and the gypsy woman in the other. She needed to escape the Slayer and her Key of a sister, escape to a place where they would be safe and could have tea, where the sun would not rise and turn her to dust like the Slayer turned Solomon and Jezebel to dust, like children turn to dust when one leaves them in the ground too long.
A forest loomed in front of her. A wilderness, where she could spend 40 days like the Christ whose cross burned her skin. (She had learned all about the Christ, in a different life so long ago. Her mother had told her that when she died she would join the Christ in heaven. Well, she was dead, and what did the Christ do but mock her from His cross she could not touch?) She could stay alive on the gypsy woman, if she had to, the old woman and all of the creatures of the forest, the wolf and the ram and the hart, the lion and the tiger and the bear. . . .
For a moment, she heard her Spike's voice in her head: You're in Romania, ducks, not the jungle. There aren't any lions and tigers. That's what her Spike would say. She would have her Spike back, have him back very soon. But there were creatures in the forest that no one knew about, except those who knew the darkest secrets of the Old Country, or those who, like Drusilla, had the stars to whisper those secrets to them. There was power in the forest, power that the Romanian people rightly feared.
The Slayer would learn to fear that power.
Go to the Windows of My Soul masterlist.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-05 02:24 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-05 02:59 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-05 05:46 pm (UTC)Loved it!
(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-05 05:50 pm (UTC)Thanks for the feedback!
(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-06 08:41 pm (UTC)Gina
(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-06 08:43 pm (UTC)Thanks!
(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-27 12:30 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2005-11-29 02:04 pm (UTC)Thank you for the feedback!