Title: Living as Lenore The story can be found here:
Author: Luna (aka Luna_del_Cielo on lj)
Fandom: Supernatural/Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Cast of Characters: Tara/Lenore McLeod, Fergus McLeod/Crowley, Loki/Gabriel, Anya, Castiel, Eli, Dean, Sam, Scoobies,
Summary: Willow tried to bring Tara back from the dead…and she did. Unfortunately, it happened to be in a body 340 years in the past.
Pairing(s):Anya/Gabriel, Tara/Willow, and inexplicably several others...Spoilers: BTVS S6E19 ‘Seeing Red’, SPN S2E3 ‘Bloodlust’. Spoilers for Crowley's past in S6 “Weekend at Bobby’s” and allusions to Loki's past in S5
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or Buffy the Vampire Slayer. If I did then fewer people would have died in each of those shows :)
And the entire story is under the tag ‘Living as Lenore’ here
Chapter 8: The Devil Card is Revealed
Thanks to AllenPitt for the ‘prophecy p.s:’ idea – he always has the best ideas ;)
January 30, 1701
“Greetings, your ladyship,” smirked Fergus as bowed low in her direction as soon as Lenore had shut the house door behind him and Molly. They dusted the snow off of their coats within the foyer of Elspeth’s house and shook the pesky white flakes off of their shoes before Lenore took their outerwear to hang up.
Molly let out a snort of laughter and likewise curtsied. “Baroness O’Neil, how good of you to have us over.”
“Oh sod off,” Lenore rolled her eyes as she took the pot of Molly’s famous haggis and began walking to the kitchen.
“Dear me,” Fergus said lightly with a cluck of his tongue as they followed her. “I daresay, is that any way for a lady of your station to speak?”
Lenore dropped the haggis onto the dining table and turned around to glare at him. “Honestly, Fug. Aren’t you ever going to get tired of that?”
Fergus scowled at her use of Elizabeth’s pet name for him. “Certainly not, Len.”
“Oh, will you two children cease your bickering?” Elspeth grumbled as she waltzed into the kitchen with a harried expression. “I’ve already been dealing with quite a bit of troublesome children already today,” she explained with a gesture towards the sitting room.
“He started it,” Lenore snapped, out of habit, as Fergus simultaneously stated “She started it.”
“Molly?” Elspeth asked with an arched brow as she placed her hands upon her hips.
“It was likely Fergus,” Molly replied to Elspeth. After all, her sister-in-law was no fool – few lied to Elspeth and got away with it.
Like lightning, Elspeth smacked both Lenore and Fergus’ hand. “You two act your bloody age. Maggie’s upstairs more ill than ever, the birthday boy is playing kings and bloody knights in the living room with a branch he found, Elizabeth is playing ‘hide and scare’ where she keeps hiding and then jumping out at me, and Dawn is toddling all over.”
Lenore winced at her cousin’s stressed appearance and rant. The children were being a handful today for Alexander’s birthday party and her mother was here to attend, but she was too ill to leave the washroom at the moment. “Sorry Elspeth.”
“Fergus and I will watch the children,” Molly said sighed. “Come along, Ferg.”
Fergus rolled his eyes – he had always hated following orders – and headed towards the sitting room.
“Is there anything I can do, cousin?” she asked when it was just the two of them.
“Yes,” Elspeth sighed distractedly as her busy hands began organizing several pots. “I just remembered that I forgot to pick up the cake that you ordered from the baker. Hmm. Could you pick it up, please, before Edgar, Ennis, and their wives arrive?”
“Of course, Elspeth.”
Lenore bundled up in her woolen outer garments and began the snowy, yet for once not windy, trek to the bakery. It was certainly times like these that she really wished she lived in California again – too bad that no one would be discovering it for another hundred years or so.
Although, on the plus side, if they had discovered California by now then at least she would be able to afford the travel arrangements.
Mr. Hartford’s visit back in November had been a fortuitous one – and one that she certainly knew had come by the grace of God. Apparently her no-good husband had been good for something – his family tree. Within the last year a branch of his tree had passed due to dueling, illness, or by accident, and his uncle – the Lord Cornelius O’Connor, Baron of Summerford – was left without any children to pass his estate to. Connor O’Neil, named after his maternal uncle, had been the only remaining member of the family. Even though Connor had passed – into a fiery inferno – the estate had gone to Lenore.
However, while Lenore was immensely thankful to not have to worry about money anymore she certainly did not enjoy being called a ‘Baroness’ or ‘Lady Lenore’. It felt quite…strange. She was unworthy of such a title, if she were to be honest.
Lenore laughed softly and turned her focus back onto the road, where the path was thick with snow and the air was masked with thick flakes. Here life was truly strange and she supposed the she should start getting used to it. Reincarnation, witch, prophetess – what was next? Should she try to invent electricity? Or perhaps Post-Its?
Hmm – now the latter was not a bad idea…
Still giggling to herself, she almost did not hear a crunching in the snow – like the sound of something heavy walking through the drifts. Her blood pressure spiked, but she took a calming breath and maintained an at-ease demeanor. Lenore’s ears strained against the howling of the wind and her narrowed eyes peered through the scarves wrapped around her head (quite honestly, if she didn’t want Alexander to have a fabulous sixth birthday party there would be no way that she would walk outside in this foul weather). Then she subtly reinforced the magical shields around herself, enough so that she would be protected by a sudden attack yet not enough to draw attention.
There was something out there. She heard its footsteps thickly crunching through the soft packing snow off the road. Its steps were at least ten feet behind her, yet otherwise keeping an even speed with her steps.
She swallowed thickly. A dark power lay curled in the air, like a jungle cat tensed on shadowy branches as it calculated its prey’s movements before uncurling in a whip of death. Once isolated to just her right, now she felt it on both sides – it was flanking her, like warriors who thirsted to completely wipe out their opponent.
Lenore’s breathing heightened. There was something off about what existed out there – it reminded here of the feelings she had gotten during Sunnydale patrols.
The crunching to her right stopped and Lenore called upon her great powers to shield her from the predator that she knew was flying through the air. Then, from a power outside of hers, there was a flash of light, a terrifying scream of pain that abruptly ended, and then another black movement lunging for the white force.
Conditioned by Sunnydale, even if it was only a memory to her now, Lenore jumped forward and crouched out of sight behind a mound of snow. Her eyes, shadowed with worry, peeked nervously over the snow. Twenty feet off she saw – although they were moving almost too quickly to honestly comprehend – Castiel fighting a creature of human appearance. The demon – for she knew it was not a human – had dark skin that contrasted starkly against the falling snow and dreadlocks that whipped around her head as she pirouetted away from the angel. Castiel carried a gleaming silver sword that shone like the moon underneath the clouded sky, but with the way he wielded the sword it appeared more like a shooting star.
The demon was graceful – a convoluted movement of long limbs and torso – and she easily evaded the sword, unlike her fallen comrade whose blond decapitated head was barely visible underneath the snow. Yet her grace was still not enough to deliver a blow to the angel and within minutes she allowed a window of opportunity and the deed was done. Her head – with glassy eyes that defied death even in its moment of greeting – spiraled off of her neck and landed with a wet smack in front of Lenore.
The gag reflex was immediate but Lenore managed to hold the contents of her stomach. One would have thought demon fighting in Sunnydale would have hardened her, but her twenty-eight years of life here had softened her instead. Shaking with the adrenaline that had not yet realized her ‘flight or fight’ moment had passed, she looked up into Castiel’s clear blue eyes. He was suddenly in front of her, helping her up, and then making the bodies of the demons disappear with a snap of his fingers.
“You should not be outside. It is too dangerous,” he informed her in his gruff voice. His manner of speaking reminded her of a man long used to battle; a man whose very life was lived in the garrisons.
Shaking herself slightly, she gathered her wits. “Dangerous – that’s a bit of an understatement. What were those things?” she asked in a hushed voice; almost as if she were afraid someone would overhear her speaking of such madness.
An incredulous snort of laughter passed her lips. “I know vampires. They turn to dust and are definitely not that powerful. So let’s try that again – what were those creatures?”
Castiel sighed and for the first time she saw his shoulders sag with an unspoken burden. “The vampires that you know of do exist, yes. These that you just witnessed are often called vampires because they live off blood. However, they are an old race of demons; a very powerful race. Their numbers have dwindled significantly but their existence is still known in certain parts of the world.”
Lenore took a deep breath and then focused at the task on hand. “Okay, so they’re not real vampires—”
“—Technically at one point in the past one of these demons had an unholy union with a human, and the vampire that you know of was born,” Castiel explained in a way that reminded her of her freshmen history professor who loved to lecture more than teach.
“O-kay,” she nodded. “And why were they attacking me?”
His face was stoic but Lenore noticed a subtle stiffening of his posture. “Do not worry. You are my charge and I will protect you.” Then Castiel grabbed her arm, she heard the sound of fluttering wings, and suddenly she was standing outside of Elspeth’s house again. “Stay inside until I tell you it’s safe.”
Castiel made a movement to leave but Lenore yanked onto his arm. “Hey! You can’t just pull a Harry Potter and pop me over here! I need to pick up Alexander’s birthday cake!”
“Who is Harry Potter?” Castiel asked in confusion.
“That’s not the point,” she huffed. “It’s Alexander’s birthday and I need to pick up his cake from the bakery.”
“Ah, yes. I know of that tradition,” he nodded thoughtfully.
“Yes, good. Then you know how important it is,” Lenore said slowly. “So can I go get the cake now?”
“No,” he shook his head. “It is too dangerous.”
Lenore made sure to keep a hold onto his arm so he couldn’t flutter away. “Okay, then how about you pop me over there and then pop me back. Okay?”
Castiel looked up to the heavens – whether he was questioning her request or silently asking why God had given her to him, she didn’t know. Finally, he nodded and fulfilled her request. When they had returned again to Elspeth’s house she quickly asked a question before letting go of his arm.
“Castiel, please. Why were those demons after me?”
“It would be best if you didn’t have to worry, Prophetess. Please continue with your writing and I will keep you safe.”
Lenore frowned. This was getting frustrating. After all, she wasn’t a shy girl with a stutter named Tara anymore, nor an only mildly powerful witch who lacked knowledge about the darkness of the world. She was shiny and new – something different, something more. Lenore was now a combination of both of her lives and while she often struggled with distinguishing certain things, she was powerful in both magic and knowledge now. She deserved to know.
“Castiel, please don’t go all ‘Angel’ on me with the cryptic messages”, she chided as she remembered funny stories from Willow. “I need to know these things, to keep my family safe.”
Castiel closed his eyes and the smallest of sighs escaped his lips. “I have my orders, Lenore. I am sorry.”
Then he was gone.
April 30, 1701
“Len, what’s wrong?” Fergus’ voice cut through the extended silence of their meeting.
Lenore’s eyes shifted down to her hands that she had folded primly on the table; they were now slick with sweat and she rest them instead on her thighs. Clearing her throat, she looked around the magical room hidden in Elspeth’s cellar and made quick eye contact with both her brother and her cousin. She had called them in for a meeting and this was the most private room for the talk that she was about to give. Since it was just one meeting with no magic involved, Elspeth did not dispute Fegus’ presence in the room that she had long ago declared off-limits to him.
“This is something that Elspeth knows a little of, but I am afraid that I have been keeping another secret from you, brother,” she hesitantly began.
His eyes were more alert at those words and as she began to tell him about her past life, Castiel, and her nights spent writing prophecies, his eyes grew in surprise and he leaned forward in interest. Eventually she came to the crux of the matter but apprehension made her pause in her speech. This was not a conversation that she wanted to have and she knew the moment that she told her family the whole truth her life would change.
“Okay, so you’re a bloody prophetess – what of it?” her brother, unsure of what the big deal was, commented with a shrug. “Seems to me like you’ve done well with this deal, Len. Look at you now! Wealth, a title – what more could you want?” he asked in a voice that subtly betrayed the envy that he felt.
Elspeth just remained silent as she rested her chin upon steepled fingers. “I reckon if things were going smoothly then Lenore wouldn’t ‘ave called us down here, Fergus,” she said softly as she focused on her younger cousin.
Now her brother’s eyes narrowed as he looked at her in surprise; Lenore had been careful to pretend like nothing was out of the ordinary and only Elspeth knew of everything she was going through.
“The day of Alexander’s birthday, when I ran out to get the cake, I was attacked by two demons.” Lenore looked up to judge the faces of her family. Elspeth knew of the attack and it was no surprise to her, but what Lenore would be saying next would be news to the woman. Fergus paled considerably and she saw his fingers clench around the edges of the table.
“Demons? What kind of demons? And what did they want with you?” he asked in a tight, worried voice.
She laid her hand upon his. “They’re a form of vampire. Since then they’ve been after me but thus far Castiel, my guardian angel, has protected me from them. I don’t know why they are after me but I assume it has to do with my prophecies – after all, I do write mostly about vampires.”
“Can this Castiel fellow keep protecting you?” Fergus asked.
Lenore chewed her lip nervously. “He came to me last night and said that the forces of darkness are planning to converge here, in Liberton. He promised that he could protect me but that he would be likely unable to protect anyone else…and that if I don’t leave you all are in danger.”
There was a beat of silence before both of them erupted.
“Well, we’re witches, aren’t we? Gon’ take quite a bit o’ effort for them fanged bastards to get us!” Elspeth snarled protectively as her clenched fist hit the table.
“But what if you leave – and they still come?” Fergus questioned in concern. “How can we kill these bastards for good?” There was something about his question that made Lenore think he was interested in something more than just killing the vampires that were after her.
Lenore held up her hand for silence. “I don’t want to leave – I don’t. But I don’t see any other way. If something were to happen to the children…well, I couldn’t bear it,” she held back a repressed shudder. “Likewise, if anything were to happen to the both of you.
“As for what will happen when I leave, I assume that they will follow, Fergus. If not, Elspeth and the coven would be able to hold any creatures off as long as they stay here, within the walls of the coven home.”
Elspeth grabbed her hand tightly. “Lenore, I do not like this plan. I have a bad feeling about it.”
Lenore kept her emotions in check, but a large part of her wanted to fall into her cousin’s arms as she had when she was a child. Now that her mother had passed from illness in March – after the death of her husband Angus she really didn’t have much of a desire to live – Elspeth was the only mother figure she had left. She placed her hand against her cousins cheek and exhaled deeply. “Elspeth, you laid out the Temperance card for me, where it showed an angel protecting me against the Devil. I am sure Castiel will care for me.”
Elspeth placed her hand over Lenore’s and sighed as well. “The cards can always be read incorrectly, my dear. What if he cannot?”
“Then I have been blessed not to live just one life, but two,” she smiled gently as she looked from Elspeth to Fergus. “And that I have been blessed with an abundance of love and family in this second life.
“Besides,” she added, “once this vampire threat has passed – trust me, vamps have small attention spans – I will return. This separation will not be permanent.”
Lenore ignored the part of her that said otherwise. The deep, gnawing fear that something would go wrong with Castiel’s plan. However, her devotion to her family had made her decision for her last night – she could not put them in danger’s path. Already she had done so more times than she would have liked these past three months.
“And who will care for the children? And where will you be going?” her ever-so logical and strategic brother asked as his expressions shifted into something unreadable.
“Elspeth…if you would accept, I was wondering if you would care for the children as your own – and Fergus, if you would help?” Lenore hesitantly asked. She hated putting burdens on others but she knew this was the best case scenario.
Elspeth smiled and shook her head at Lenore. “Don’t be daft, girl. Of course I’ll look after the children; they’re like my own grandchildren they are.”
“Fergus?” she asked as she turned towards her brother. His head was bowed and she could see sweat forming at his temple, above his thinning black hair. Her brother was only thirty-nine but it seemed of late that something – his demon deal, perhaps? – was weighing heavily upon him.
He turned dark brown eyes towards her and frowned slightly. “Of course I will, Len. I’ll do what I can…for as long as I am able.”
She read his face at that moment and a piece of her heart broke off in response. He had the eyes of a man standing upon the gallows, waiting for his execution and sorrow was etched in face. Lenore realized that while she knew that her brother had sold his soul to a demon she didn’t know just how long Fergus had before that demon reclaimed what was his.
Lenore blinked back a tear – her brother hated weakness and pity, after all – and nodded with a jerk of her head. “Thank you, Fergus,” she said softly.
He gave her a soft smile and Lenore felt rage bubble within her at the thought that something was going to hurt her brother. As soon as she was able, she would start researching how to get a soul back from a demon deal. Thanks to her past life’s knowledge, she had a great deal more resources at hand and figured there had to be something out there.
Elspeth sighed heavily and spoke her next words slowly, as if she was protesting the fact that they needed to be said at all. “So when do you leave?”
June 21, 1701
“More tea, my lady?” Magdalene, her favorite servant, asked her with a bow of her head.
Lenore turned away from the grand oak writing desk that she used for writing prophecies and smiled at the pretty eighteen-year old girl. She had thick copper hair that fell to her waist and that, along with her widow’s peak and fair complexion, reminded her of a young Willow Rosenberg. Magdalene was the daughter of the manor cook and had grown up her whole life at Summerford. When Lenore had arrived many of the servants had given her a chilly reception – she was, of course, a mere commoner who had only received the title by luck – but Magdalene had been exceptionally kind.
Although, it may have been her resemblance to Lenore’s long-lost lover that had softened Lenore towards the girl as well.
“Yes, Magdalene. Thank you.”
Although Summerfod was only a mere thirty miles away and the neighboring province of her family home, she had yet to see any family members in the last two months. While the journey would not be terrible on horseback, she just did not want to take her chances. The vampires were still after her and while she had not felt any nearby in the last two weeks it wasn’t that long ago that she had felt Castiel fighting off a large group.
Of course, Castiel, her tight-lipped Guardian Angel, never got around to telling her any of this however – Lenore always had to guess using her magical abilities. Apparently the angel had ‘orders;’ not to worry her and that meant not telling her a bloody thing.
Lenore sighed and went back to re-reading her letter from Elspeth and the children. The goodbye the night before the Festival of Beltaine had nearly broken Lenore so completely that by the time Castiel had popped her over to Summerford she was sobbing uncontrollably. For his part her angel was utterly perplexed by her and, for the record, sucks at comforting a crying woman. The extent of his comfort was a couple pats on the back and a “Do not cry. It will all be better.” Then when she had asked “Really?” he had shrugged and said “It will likely not…But isn’t that what humans are supposed to say to one another in times of crisis?”
Needless to say, Lenore had not been comforted by the eternal being.
But at least she had been keeping busy here. When she had received her inheritance she had put the solicitor in charge of the manor and servants until she was ready to leave Liberton. Once she had arrived a great deal of work awaited her – she never would have thought that a Baroness had it so rough!
On top of all that, her writings had been keeping her busy. It bothered her that her writings probably would not taken so long had Castiel not been adamant that she translate each prophecy into a difference language – apparently the angels wanted to make sure that her prophecies did not use the modern speech of the twentieth century and looked ‘authentic’.
Just to spite them, she was awfully tempted to throw in something extra for the Master Resurrection prophecy, like “P.S.: Buffy, do not have sex with Angel – I don’t care how much you think his undead body is hot!” or “P.S.: Xander – trust me when I say that summoning dancing demons is not a good idea.”
Or even one like: “The Last Guardian of the Hellmouth shall arrive on the eve of the world, and she will wield wit and snappy comebacks as her Watcher merely cleans his glasses and sighs.”
Lenore snickered. Oh yes, the temptation to do fun was certainly there. She could just imagine all of the befuddled tweed-wearing watchers analyzing the text and unable to properly understand those last lines. Ah well. Too bad she always was rather responsible. Besides, she was just about done with the final major prophecy – the one about the Key and Glory and the next ones on her to-do list were minor, like the second vampire with a soul.
Well, she had never heard of any prophecy like that but she did, more or less, like Spike and figured that if Angel got to have a prophecy than the platinum-haired Brit deserved one as well.
So she finished re-reading her letter and returned to finishing the Key prophecy for the rest of the night. Eventually, dusk fell and she looked at the cloudless night with a soft hum of resignation. Today was the Summer Solstice and she wished that she was back home with Elspeth – today was a powerful day for all good witches and an important celebration. However, it didn’t feel right to celebrate here alone – especially with all the servants around. If they knew that she was a witch then they would surely rise against her.
Lenore heard a flutter of wings just then and turned around to face Castiel with a sigh. “Castiel. How may I help you?” she asked wryly, because every time he showed it was not to update her on the vampire situation or even explain it, it was always to check on her progress.
Castiel stood with unease near her unlit fireplace. His worried face was illuminated by the silver moonlight that shone through her window and the soft flickering of a single candle. As she examined him further she noticed that his hair was unkempt, his clothes in a disarray, and that his arm was bleeding.
“Dear…” Lenore successfully refrained from using God’s name in vain in front of the angel. “What happened to you?”
“Danger looms,” he stated in a gravelly voice that rolled over her with the weight of a boulder. “I miscalculated the vampires. It appears that they desire you more than we previously thought. I must take you to safety.”
Lenore began breathing heavily as she listened to the clear words that cut fear into her. She glanced outside the window and then looked over her main first floor parlor. “Castiel, no more games. Tell me. What is going on?”
“There isn’t time!” he rasped and she cowered for a moment against the authority in his voice before she mustered up her strength.
“There’s always time! I can’t just leave these people for death!” she said with a wave of her hand. “Tell me – maybe I can help fight back.”
Castiel shook his head. “No, you will not be able to do much. I have called forth my brethren, but few have vessels available to them at the moment; if they do, they are otherwise occupied. You and I cannot contain this army alone.”
Her chest constricted painfully. “Army?” she whispered.
Castiel frowned and then sighed in a very human what-the-hell sort of way. “The Alpha is the one behind the plan to apprehend you. We think that he wants you because he has heard of your vampiric prophecies and wants you to give him your knowledge. He has been sending his minions – beginning with his powerful and very old lieutenant back in January – to test my defenses. Tonight he brings an army of at least thirty-five vampires.”
“Thirty-five! Well, now that’s not that bad,” she quickly said as she drew herself up and began pacing. Tonight is the Summer Solstice and fire spells come easily to witches today, of all days. Plus, you’re an angel, Castiel. I’ve seen Buffy take on half a dozen vampires at a time – this should be nothing for you.”
He sighed and his shoulders visibly sagged. “The Alpha accompanies his company tonight – he is the first of all vampires and incredibly powerful. His warriors, as well, are all much more powerful than the half-breeds you’ve dealt with. I…I do not think I will be able to fend them off as well as you think.”
Lenore stilled as she listened to his soft-spoken words that fell like pebbles into a pool – they seemed to be just a small splash at first but quickly set off a chain reaction within her. Maybe Castiel was right – perhaps there was no way out alive tonight unless she left. But…
“If we leave now, then I will be running for the rest of my life,” she managed to utter as her voice caught on her next words. “It would not take too long for this Alpha to kidnap my family and use that leverage against me.”
Castiel turned and she caught his gaze – and saw regret in his eyes. “You are wise for a human, Lenore. It is true that that will probably happen.” He stated his words in a factual tone but he derived no happiness from them. In fact, he looked like someone had just kicked his puppy.
“I have failed you.”
“No,” Lenore said quietly as she shook her head. She grabbed the angel’s hand and squeezed it – never before had she touched him freely but it felt needed at the moment. “After all, I am not dead yet, am I?”
He gifted her with a weak – very weak – smile. “No, you are not. But you see, I was not the one originally assigned to your case and therefore am inadequate to properly protect you. You were not scheduled to remember your past life until your thirty-third birthday.”
Lenore took a step back. “Scheduled?” She felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her but Castiel continued, not noticing her negative reaction.
“Yes. You see, all prophets are placed under the care of an archangel. However, the other archangels already have charges that they are caring for and thus you fell to me. Throughout my existence I have served my Father faithfully and I have finally been awarded with the opportunity to protect the life of a human charge.” Castiel sighed. “But I am unsure if I am powerful enough to protect you, Lenore – I am not as strong as my older brothers.”
Lenore’s eyes clenched shut as she felt a stab of betrayal run through her very soul. She had heard everything that Castiel had said, yes, but it was his first words that reverberated through her mind. “So I was not…scheduled…to remember anything until a certain age?”
Castiel looked at her in surprise, finally hearing the pain that laced her tone. “Why yes. Upon your thirty-third birthday one of the archangels, either Raphael or Michael, would have lifted the veil over your eyes and your memories would have returned.” Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, “Strange that the veil was lifted beforehand; powerful magic held it in place.”
“So…you all toyed…with my mind?” Lenore questioned in a sharp tone as she struggled to find the necessary words. Castiel looked at her in surprise as she turned dark, accusing eyes towards him.
“Lenore, that is the way of things. It was not control, per say. We did that to better control the timeline and to ensure that an archangel could be assigned to you.”
She raised an accusing finger in his direction. “But didn’t you ever think about how maybe I deserved to know earlier? How I had dreamt of snatches of my past life for years and nearly went mad from not knowing? How I longed to know the red-haired goddess that waited for me each night when I fell under the sandman’s shadow?”
Castiel started to speak but she cut him off. “You all used me! I can’t believe this…I thought angels were supposed to care about people but all you care about is meeting your own ends. You tried to control me…like Willow did, like Glory did,” Lenore finished in a softer voice.
“Lenore, please. That is not the way to look at it,” Castiel said with a puzzled expression.
Lenore shook her head. It was clear that the expressionless angel would never understand the betrayal that she felt. Lenore – or rather, Tara – had her mind violated thrice before. Once when Glory sucked her sanity away and left her a mumbling mess, once when Willow had betrayed her by making her forget a fight, and once when Willow did a spell to make everyone momentarily forget who they were in an attempt to get out of a promise she had made.
No. She couldn’t believe that the angels…that God...had chosen to make her suffer a fourth time.
A woman’s scream pierced the silence just then, and Lenore ran to the window. The sight of a marching army of vampires attacking every human in their path made her gasp in fright. Castiel was right – there were many of them. At least thirty. “Castiel, I thought you said there were thirty-five. Where are the others?”
Castiel’s brows furrowed in thought, but then he grunted in pain as a sword, now glistening with blood, hung through the front of his chest. Behind him was a cruel looking bald man with a smile that revealed rows or pointed teeth and hands that resembled talons with long, curved fingernails.
“Right here,” he stated in a low and sinister as he motioned for the four vampires flanking him to run for her.
Dammit. Sunnydale should have taught her better about saying certain things out loud.
Castiel yanked the sword out his back and heaved it through the air to strike the commanding vampire – perhaps he was the Alpha? – but he was no where to be seen. Quickly Lenore created two balls of fire with a spell and flung them at the closest vampires. They screamed in agony as they began melting on the spot, but Lenore didn’t have a moment to celebrate. Suddenly a female vampire yanked her arm hard and she felt her shoulder dislocate with a pop. Luckily, Castiel beheaded her attacker and kicked the remaining vampire against the wall.
“Come,” he said as he reached for her hand, likely intending to pop them far away, but a shadowy blur sped into him with the speed of a train. The manor shook from the impact as the two literally plowed through a section of her wall and fell into a heap five yards from the house.
“Castiel!” she screamed fearfully. Yes, she may be angry with the angel but in no way did she want to see him injured.
Dozens of vampires were running towards them now and six were already on top of Castiel; the seven of them were flashes of movement and swordplay. Lenore moved forward to help but a vampire – the one that Castiel had kicked – yanked her back.
“You’re coming with us, Prophetess,” he growled.
Lenore growled in response. These fanged bastards had forced her to leave her children and the rest of her family – if they thought she was going without a fight then they sure were wrong! “Fuego!” she shouted and the vampire screamed in surprised pain as flames rolled off of her and onto him.
She breathed in deeply. God, she could feel it calling to her, the primitive powers of the earth. Today was the longest day of the year, when the sun beat its fiery waves upon the earth for hours upon hours. She could feel all that energy just beneath the earth, waiting for her to use it. It longed to be set free, to burn away this scourge upon the earth.
Taking deep breaths she concentrated and began lifting it up with her magic. Sparks of flame appeared over the land and she rolled them all together in a somersaulting ball of fire that she sent at the now twenty vampires that were attacking Castiel. Each vampire rolled into the ball, like rolling packed snow, and screamed in earnest. Castiel flashed a grim smile and approached her wilting form – that spell had taken a considerable amount of energy. There were still vampires left but she hoped that she had bought them enough time to pop out of here.
Lenore gasped in pain as she felt something sharp rip through her forearm. Looking down she saw that her arm had been delivered a grievous wound and was bleeding generously.
“Lenore! Run!” Castiel shouted as he rushed towards her…but he didn’t make it. A blinding flash of white light shot into the air and enveloped him greedily. By the time the light had faded, he was gone.
“C-castiel?” she asked shakily as her eyes scanned the space where he had been.
A low chuckle echoed through the nearly empty room. “He’s gone, little Prophetess.” Lenore looked at the speaker with trepidation, her body now shaking with fear. There, with his hand over a bloody symbol finger-painted onto the wall – made out of her blood, she realized – was the bald vampire that had attacked them first. He smiled genially and walked slowly towards her, as if he had all the time in the world now. Fruitlessly, Lenore tried to summon more fire, but her magic was spent. Considering that she was losing a good deal of blood and her shoulder was dislocated, Lenore had no chance of fighting him off.
When the vampire pounced onto her with his rows of flashing teeth she quickly thanked God for the memories of her past life and the life she had led in this time.
Then there was just mind-shattering pain and she was no longer capable of thought.
This chapter took a while to write…because the sad moments always take me a while to get around to writing…
Anyways, review please? :)
**Imagine my surprise when there really *was* a location named Summerford in Scotland! Ha. Check out Google: http://maps.google.com/maps?hl=en&tab=wl
** Beltaine—Seasonal holiday of the Celts. Celebrated the renewal of life aka Spring. Then it got incorporated into May Day and then it got more so Christianized.