[Reviews - 50]
-
Table of Contents [Report This]
Microsoft Word Chapter or Story | ePub eBook Chapter or Story | Printer Chapter or Story

Has been viewed 4775 times

- Text Size +




Author's Chapter Notes:
This fic is based on a challenge put forth by Spikesonlychilde, who has also extended four different requirements for this fic, of which one must be included. But, since they were all great ideas, I'm going to include all four of them! =)
Truth, truth everywhere,
but not a drop to drink,
you can think what you like,
but it's not like what you think,

Talk, talk everywhere,
banished you can tell,
a thousand ears to turn away,
not one mouth to stay closed,

Eyes, eyes everywhere
and two more that now hold,
the pallor of your face
when all your palest lies are told,

Hands, hands tethered fast
to bonds you'd wish they'd hold,
to forgive completely only serves to let them go,

Bride for the King of Blame,
I'm Queen of Apology,
you see we take all care,
but no responsibility,
return this where you found it,

Truth, truth,
hand it down,
and we'll swallow it whole,
to avoid the taste,
but what's inside,
we'll never know.

Lyrics are from “Queen Of Apology” by Sarah Blasko



PROLOGUE:

“Do you think she walked around on clouds, wearing Birkenstocks and played a harp?” Anya asked, her eyes glazed over as she got lost in her imagination. She suddenly snapped back to reality when she felt the eyes of her peers fixated on her.

“’Cause those are just not flattering,” she continued, as if by way of explanation. “You know, the clunky sandals, not a harp. I mean, who doesn’t look good with a harp?”

Willow and Tara just looked at her, bewildered. Xander looked less with the surprise and more with the uncomfortable. Anya realised she’d just said one of the many “don’t say in front of the scoobies” comments and rushed to her own defence.

“What? I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking, right baby?” she looked to Xander for support.

Xander avoided the question and answered the only way he could think of that wouldn’t start an argument.

“You are attractive and have many good qualities.”

Tara looked up from the table.

“It’s totally not stupid to wonder what it was like for Buffy. But it could have been any one of a zillion heavenly dimensions. All we know is that it was a good place and she was happy there.”

“And we took her away from that. We wrecked it for her,” Willow said in a hushed tone, riddled with guilt.

Xander shook his head emphatically.
“We didn’t wreck, we didn’t know.”

“We didn’t wanna know,” Willow argued. “We were so selfish. I was so selfish.”

Xander was shaking his head again.

“Maybe we were. I just feel weird feeling bad that my friend’s not dead. It’s… too mind boggling. So I’ve decided to simplify the whole thing. Me like Buffy. Buffy’s alive, so me glad.”

“Not to be Miss Psycho Pep Squad, but we have got to stop obsessing about what we did and start trying to make things better for Buffy,” Tara stated quietly, matter-of-factly.

Anya nodded in agreement.

“I’m with Miss Psycho Pep Squad,” she said cheerily, raising her hand to show her support.

“Ah, we need to spend more time with her, just hang out. Maybe have… weekly dinners over here, or a… book club!” Xander said excitedly, until he saw Willow’s face. “Short books! Videos!”

Willow raised her eyes to meet the group’s again, a fierce determination shining in them.

“I can fix it. I know a spell,” she said in the same hushed tone as before.

“No! No more spells!” Tara argued, her voiced raised.

It was so unlike Tara to yell, that everyone gaped at her in astonishment. Even Willow didn’t know where this had come from. Tara had been distant with her the last couple of days, but she hadn’t explained what was bothering her.

Willow frowned. “I just want to make things right again for Buffy,” she grumbled, looking down.

“Well that’s not the way,” Tara replied firmly. “If we’re going to “fix” things for Buffy, we’re going to do it by helping her, not by using more magic. You can’t use magic to violate people’s minds that way Wil, it’s wrong.” Tara stared hard at Willow as she said these words, wanting to see what her reaction would be.

Predictably, Willow looked even guiltier than she had earlier.
“Ok, we won’t use magic. It was just an idea…”

* * *

Sprawled out on the bathroom floor, a book open on her lap, Willow held a torch over the pages to read the words. At 3:00am this was the only room she could really use in anything remotely resembling privacy.

“Truth spell, truth spell, where have you gone?” she chanted quietly as she flipped through the pages.

The idea of casting a truth spell had occurred to her earlier, after leaving the magic shop. Tara was still acting really distant and snappy. Willow had concluded that she was either really pissed about something, or she’d been possessed by an unidentified big bad. Since Tara wasn’t talking, it made the most sense to cast a truth spell. Then it dawned on her that it could be the one (metaphorical) stone for the (also metaphorical) two birds. It could double as a spell for Buffy too. Then she could finally get some insight into what Buffy was feeling and have a better idea of how to improve things for her, as well as finding out what was bugging Tara. Willow mentally patted herself on the back. Sometimes her intelligence was almost too much for her.

“There you are, my little truth seeking friend.”

She balanced the torch on the side of the tub, facing vaguely in the direction of the book, revealing the pages that were headed with “Truths Revealed Spell”.

“Ok,” Willow breathed, scanning the page quickly, but thoroughly. “’A white seven hour candle, a blue three hour candle, small piece of obsidian crystal, a picture of the person - well, we got plenty of those here - three drops of clary sage, three drops of lavender, two drops pine and three drops of calamus rots.’ I’m sure I can scrounge up most of this stuff… nutmeg and mugwort… Pick up a small piece of obsidian from the Magic Box, since mine went mysteriously missing… weird though, I swear I saw Dawn wearing obsidian the other day…”

Willow stopped rambling to herself to read on about the methods of the spell. She needn’t have bothered: the ingredients were pretty self explanatory.

“’Go to wooded area in same town as person, place the drops of oil onto sides of candles, smear around using photos face down, then roll candles in mugwort and nutmeg. Light the candle, say the incantation, yaddy-yadda, hold the obsidian over the candle light for seven seconds, place photo into flame and leave it be. Return in seven hours, light the blue candle and say “The spell is done,” hold obsidian in flame for three seconds, then blow out the flame and leave the candles, picture and obsidian in place. The spell shall run its course.’ Then shimmy shake those truths out girls, ‘cause those secrets are only gonna make you bitter! Easy peasy, coulda done this in tenth grade.”

Willow smiled to herself, closing the book and stretching her limbs on the cold tile floor. Tomorrow she would cast the spell.





You must login (register) to review.