King of Hell
A fanfiction by Drake the Archr
Disclaimer: The characters used here do not belong to me, unless it is an OC that I made up in the middle of the night when I was supposed to be sleeping as I have to get up at ungodly hours to go sit at a workstation… ANYway.. I don’t own them, I am not looking to make money off this. This is for fun.
This is the second run at the world I was creating in A Second Opinion. Not sure if that one will be continued, but this one should be just as fun. A few changes here and there, but it was fun to write. There is a lot of backstory I need to fill in, but that will have to wait.
Spoilers: BtVS- Post Chosen, Stargate SG-1 – The Devil You Know, and AU beyond that. Massively AU, and a surprise or two beyond that.
We now join our fanfiction, already in progress:
Escaping from Hell was a relief.
Whoever came up with the name of this place was right on the money. The heat and general climate was right, but it was the pain he had experienced that convinced Xander that it truly was Hell. Facing Apophis was one thing. Spitting in the face of the devil was something he had done for over seven years back in Sunnydale. Facing an old friend, one he had known since childhood, his first failure in his fight alongside the Slayer on the Mouth of Hell, was something else altogether.
Thallia had helped, as had ‘Rover’, who had become stronger over the last few months for some reason, in resisting the Blood of Sokar as well as the Tok’ra memory device, but facing Jessie, his best friend, and the first vampire he had ever dusted, was not an experience he would have liked to repeat, given the choice. Nor was seeing Faith take a staff blast meant for him. The wound was bad, mortal even for a Slayer. Thallia offered her power to heal Faith, heal her by Blending with her. Unable to talk, due to the pain, Faith blinked and nodded her acceptance of the offer. Thallia’s exit and absence both hurt, but the emptiness where her presence had resided for the last two years, was soothed by the knowledge that Faith would live.
The escape via the rings was about par for the course, but carrying Faith over his shoulder made it a little hairier than normal. Resting on the ship as they escaped the moon, Xander noticed a streak of light from Sokar’s nearby mothership. Pieces fell together in his mind and he felt the hackles of his Hyena aspect raise.
He watched as the ship veered away toward a safe vector for hyper-launch, forcing the exhaustion and pain from his body. “We have to go back,” he stated firmly.
“Say what?” asked Jack with a look of sheer disbelief on his face. “We just escaped from Hell and you want us to go back?”
“Someone escaped from Sokar’s ship. If we leave now, and do nothing, someone will take over and that huge force of Sokar’s will still be a threat to all of us. Apophis was on that ship. Do we really want to risk him or Sokar keeping that fleet?”
“What do you suggest, Alexander Harris?” asked the stoic Teal’c. He did not like the idea of such a force still existing as a threat, but he was concerned as to how well they would be able to fight. Jacob Carter was still weak and Faith Lehane was healing from her brush with death. The rest of SG-1 looked, rightly so, like they had been to Hell and back.
“Ring me in and I challenge the bastard there. I know enough about Goa’uld politics to know that a System Lord cannot afford to have his subjects doubt him. I challenge him, whoever it is, in public and beat his ass into the ground. Simple.”
“Are you insane kid? He has thousands of Jaffa there, and none of them would let you through to whoever it is. You have to know this,” Jacob wheezed out.
“I know. Still, we have to so something. First, he’s taking on the System Lords with his fleet. Then you know he will hit anyone else who’s a threat. That means Earth, and we all know that the Protected Planets Treaty is iffy protection at best, and none at all from this snake. Send me down alone, if you have to, but I have to do this.”
“Indeed. I shall accompany you. You shall make your challenge unmolested by minions of Sokar,” Teal’c solemnly stated, readying himself for what he felt was the last battle he would ever fight.
“Thanks, buddy. I have enough molestation going on from Faith to keep me satisfied,” he said with his trademark smirk, bringing snorts of laughter from the others, even the Tok’ra.
“I’m with you too. Lord knows we all have axes to grind against Apophis, assuming that the snake made it, so I’ll help you. Marty, Danny, you come, too. Sam, stay with Jacob and Faith. Ring us down and wait for us to signal. It gets too hot here, get out. We’ll find our own way back. Aldwyn, you come too. You wanted to make sure Sokar is dead and there is no threat from this corner, so you get to make sure personally. Everyone grab your weapons, full load.”
Xander gathered his weapons and equipment. As he got ready to leave, he looked in on Faith. Her eyes opened as he brushed her hair back and they glowed, showing that Thallia was in charge for the moment. “You are going to challenge him?”
“Yes. You know I have to.”
“We both know. She loves you, you know? We both do.”
“I love her, and you too. Ho could I not after the last couple of years? I’ll be back.”
“We know you will. We will be here when you get back.”
With a gentle kiss, he said goodbye to his former partner and to his lover.
“We have lock with the rings in the palace. Good luck,” said Sam with a thick voice. She was certain that some of them, if not all were not coming back. Even if they didn’t, Xander was right. It had to be done.
“Time for something profound, Jack?” Daniel asked with a smirk as he readied his Zat and slung his rifle.
“Like last time, nothing’s coming to mind. And again, ‘To Hell with us,’ Major,” Jack said with a small smile.
With a flash of light and the thrum of the rings, the warriors found themselves in the main audience chamber of Sokar’s palace, where Apophis, the fallen and maimed System Lord, was just about to take Sokar’s throne as his own, in front of the assembled Jaffa of Sokar’s realm.
“Ya know, I am really tired of us meeting like this. One of us needs to stop following the other around. What do you think, snake lips?” snarked Jack
Apophis’ complexion darkened in rage and disbelief as he saw his tormentors appear, the ones who had toppled him from his high station, who had gloated over his death in their fortress, slain his wife, stolen his son and then thwarted his attempt to gain power by allying with Sokar himself. He would not let them stand and take all for which he had fought. “Kill them!” he screamed.
“Maimed and Defiled One, I call thee coward and thief. You have taken that which is not yours time and time again. You have defiled the image of the God you pretend to be. You have stolen the wife and brother of my shield-brother, attacked the world of our birth and betrayed your own vassals. You are unfit to be called a System Lord!” Xander declared formally. It was amazing how easy the challenge came. Thallia had burned the skills and knowledge into his very being, ensuring that were she ever lost, he would maintain her knowledge and her legacy.
“You dare to speak to your God like this?”
“I owe you no allegiance, and you are no God, you are a parasite on existence. You are an honorless sub-creature who has no right to that throne.”
“I am a God! I have slain Sokar and claim his empire for my own!”
“You fled his ship before Hell was destroyed, taking him with it. You claim his empire and you will destroy it just as you destroyed your own. You betrayed the Jaffa who served you, and failed them.”
“How dare you!!”
“I dare as it is my right. If a System Lord is unfit, he may be challenged. Thus was it set down by Ra in the ancient days. I challenge you, in front of these witnesses. You and I. Prove your worthiness to rule. Prove to all you are a God and not the spineless snake you truly are.”
Apophis was thunderstruck. There had been no challenges to a System Lord’s rule for over five thousand years, and only those who had received them were minor Goa’uld, not full Gods. He knew he could not refuse the challenge. These Jaffa knew the old ways, knew the old legends. If he failed to honor the challenge, he would lose not only face, but legitimacy in the eyes of his new empire, and that would be fatal.
“Very well, I accept. You will pay for your insolence.”
“Been told that before, and yet no one has been able to collect.” Xander began to divest himself of his earth weapons, and his Zat. Holding out his hand and not even looking in that direction, he waited. Teal’c strode forward and placed his staff weapon in Xander’s open hand. Apophis took the staff weapon from the nearest Jaffa and strode to face his challenger.
Staff at his side, Xander waited. His body ached from the environment of Hell as well as the absence of Thallia. He felt the rush of the Hyena through his body, feeling his senses come alive and the pain and exhaustion recede. He knew it was a lie, that it would return in force later, but it was a necessary lie. He had to win. Apophis had to die. That was all that he could do to salvage the situation.
Apophis stood before the human, looking him over. He saw the tell-tale signs of someone who had exhausted themselves and was at the very limit of his ability. Then, he saw the change in stance, in posture, in his very being. He saw a slight change in his eyes, almost like a symbiote, but not. He felt no presence in the boy before him. This would be an easy win.
To the Jaffa watching, it was unbelievable. First, Apophis, the Fallen Snake God, had claimed to have taken the throne of Sokar as his own. Now, this stranger had challenged him and accused him of fleeing that which killed their master while claiming his throne as was his right as conqueror. The stranger invoked the old challenges, never seen or told of except in the oldest legends. They watched with rapt attention, knowing they were witnessing history.
With a swipe of the staff, Apophis launched his attack. Xander parried it and followed with a kick to the gut. Apophis staggered at the strength of the blow and reevaluated his foe. Seeing that mocking smirk come to the boy’s face, the Goa’uld attacked again. Attack, parry, retaliation. It continued that way for a few minutes, frustrating the self-proclaimed God.
Xander launched his attack as he parried the latest blow, slamming his staff into the parasite infected body before him. Knocking the challenged back, he followed with a punch to the ruined side of his face. The maimed one grunted in pain and responded with a strike-sweep combination. Xander was blindsided by the attack and fell with the sweep, feeling his pain and exhaustion return. He knew he had to end this soon. He only had a few more minutes worth of strength for this.
Apophis put the boy on the defensive, getting several good strikes in, drawing blood on his foe. Xander felt the Hyena nudge harder in his mind. He knew he was loosing the fight, and chose to embrace the only weapon he had left with all his heart and soul. It was a part of him, and he was a part of it. They looked at the False God and laughed in his face.
Apophis snarled with rage and lashed out with his staff, striking with the speed, strength and fury that only a Goa’uld could match. Xander tried to rally himself with the renewed strength and speed of his inner beast, but it was not enough. The last days on Netu had drained him of all he had in reserve. He had nothing left, so it was not surprising that his guard slipped and he then saw the knife now buried in his stomach. Pain blossomed within his body, more than before; more than when he had been a sacrifice to open the Hellmouth.
His speed slowed, his strength failing, Xander’s defenses dropped again, and Apophis sent the wounded former Tok’ra host flying with a strike to the face, on his blind side. Life’s blood pouring from the stomach wound, Xander tried to get up, but the boot on his shoulder, the one belonging to the right foot of Apophis stopped him. Xander looked up at the disfigured ‘God’ and spit at him. Blood and saliva landed on the False One’s trousers, and that earned Xander another strike to the face.
“You are a fool. A dead fool. I am a God. You cannot defeat me. I have faced the Hell of Netu and lived. I have survived worse than you, child. You are beneath me. Die slowly.” With those words, Apophis reached down and savagely removed the knife from Xander’s stomach, worsening the wound, spilling blood over the ornate floor of the great hall.
The sound of the blast that struck Xander in the chest, just below the sternum, was deafening to the members of SG-1 who were present.
To Jack, the kid had seemed immortal. Who else could have gotten Kinsey to back off his witch hunt with a few whispered sentences and even promise a guarantee of greater support for the SGC? Who else could have helped him and the rest of the team steal one of Apophis’s Mother ships and give Earth a fighting chance for the next attack? He could not believe this was going to be the end of the kid who could match him snark for snark.
Teal’c saw a fellow warrior fall. He had seen something remarkable in this young man. He willingly took a Tok’ra for his partner, and fought without hesitation or reservation for what he believed. He had bonded so well with Ry’ac and with Master Bra’Tac. If only for the fact he was a Tau’ri and had, until recently carried a Tok’ra, he would have been a magnificent Jaffa. With his fall in battle, Teal’c knew that he, Martouf, Daniel Jackson and Colonel O’Neill would be soon to follow.
Daniel saw a living contradiction die before him. He was a brother in the fight against the Goa’uld, a warrior against dark forces even before he had heard of the SGC. On off time, the kid was a lab assistant, helping with translations and mainly making sure that the over-enthusiastic scholar ate and slept at reasonable times. Xander had helped him through some tough times, and even gotten used to working with someone who had been a host for one of the snakes. Daniel just could not believe the kid was dead.
Apophis looked upon his fallen foe. He sneered at the gasps coming from the smoking body before him. He reached down to take the eye patch covering his foe’s left eye. It was a token of his victory. He looked down on the dying light of the eye of Xander Harris and spit in it. Turning on his heel, he looked over at the Jaffa, his Jaffa.
“Seize them!!” he snarled, and the blood red armored warriors that formerly served the Devil himself, now snapped to his commands. He had proven himself strong and victorious. They were his now.
Xander looked down at himself, snarling at the scene. His corpse was still on the ground and Apophis was walking away, about to kill his friends, and possibly even kill those still in orbit. He had gambled and failed. He was now General Disaster, taking the title from Buffy for his now disastrous plan, or non-plan, as it were. Not only had he killed himself, but also the best defense that Earth had. This was unacceptable, but he had no options. None he could see at any rate.
“Would you go back if you could?” Xander felt the words more than heard them. A golden warmth washed over his spirit as he heard that question. “Would you go back into the fight, back to face the darkness and all it holds?”
“Absolutely, without hesitation,” he stated with conviction.
“Would you fight for the rest of your days, no matter how long or short they may be?”
“Would you fight and live, even if it meant leaving behind all you love and care about, letting time pass as you moved on?”
“I made that choice when I let Thallia in my head. Yes.”
“Then Alexander Lavelle Harris, take your birthright. Live as you have vowed. Be the predator that strikes down the forces of the night and evil. Be what is needed, what you are. Protector. Defender. Warrior. Be the person you were born and destined to be, young one. Nobility is seldom given to those who deserve it, but yours is from within, and from your line. Use it and be the future.”
With those words, the golden warmth around him flared, and for a moment, Xander saw a glowing woman before him, blonde hair flying in a storm of energy, her glowing golden eyes searing into his soul, and the gentle smile on her lips holding promise of hope.
Energy flared and Xander felt as if he was trapped in a bottle of lightning. He felt everything. His heart, stopped for nearly a minute started again, and it seemed it was working in stereo. His wounds healed and his broken body reformed.
Apophis saw the Jaffa before him staring in awe, and even fear, at something behind him. The golden light reflected off the hall and there was no source of it there earlier, at least none he had seen. He turned and witnessed something even he could not explain.
The body of his foe was moving, was getting up, but that was not the part that stupefied him. The golden fire that wrapped the former corpse was something else. The skin on that damned human’s torso was whole and unbroken. He had light shooting from his now closing wounds, even that bare socket of he left eye was glowing.
“I believe we are not finished False God,” stated the rising form. As the light dissipated, Apophis was looking into two brown eyes, brown but still with a golden glow with the power they still held. The resurrected challenger picked up his fallen staff and made a motion with his hand, indicating he wanted to fight again.
Xander watched Apophis stare slack jawed at him getting up “Honestly, you’d think he never saw someone come back from the dead,” he smirked. He felt the tinkling of the Golden Woman’s laughter in his head. ‘Ah, another spectator. Care to place any bets?’
‘I don’t need to Alexander. I already know. You make me proud.’ He felt her fade from his mind, but that was fine. He was fine. More than fine. He’d never felt this good. Never ever.
Xander taunted his opponent and made the universal sign for ‘Come get some’. As he saw Apophis move, Xander struck back, harder and faster than he ever felt he could do before, even with Thallia boosting him.
Apophis was taken aback by that reaction and was surprised when his foe moved with a speed almost like that of a Goa’uld and slammed his staff into the False God’s arm. Pain blossomed as he felt the two snaps. Screaming in pain, he pulled that arm close while fending off the flurry of attacks with his useable arm. Pain registered again, and again, and yet again. With four broken limbs, Apophis could not stand, and fell to the floor.
Xander moved to take the neck of the broken creature before him in his arms, ready for the killing snap. Whispering in his ear, he told him, “I, a lowly human with no symbiote, have defeated the mighty Apophis. You will be remembered as a failed conqueror, as one of the conquered. You were no Hunter. You were the prey. Mine. Rot in Hell, the true one, and may your host find his way to a better place.” With a quick motion, he felt the neck shatter in his arms. He watched the light of the snake and the light of the life of the host gutter and die from the eyes of the body on the floor.
Laying the body on the floor, he then stood. He grasped a staff and looked defiantly at all the warriors around him. He knew there was a chance he would have to fight them all, after fighting Apophis, but it was worth the risk. Apophis was no more, and Sokar was gone as well. Of course, the light show might have been an extra point in his favor, but it never hurt to hedge your bets.
Teal’c stepped forward, declaring to all, “You have witnessed the ancient rites of challenge. Do any deny the victor in this? He has challenged and defeated the unworthy. Do any deny this? In accordance with these rites, he is now the master of this realm. Honor the victor and liberator of Jaffa from he who would have destroyed your empire. Hail Alexander, Lord of Delmak!”
A stunned silence followed the statement of the huge Jaffa. Finally, one answered, “Hail, Alexander!” This cry was repeated, then joined by another. Another joined them, followed by more and more, until Xander stared wide eyed at the assembled warriors cheering his name.
Bad Wolf watched from just outside of perception. Everything had worked as she had hoped- actually, even better than she had hoped. She saw the Time War, for a moment, as a grand chess board, with many warriors and their allies as the pieces. The White Knight had advanced in rank on the board. The White Knight was now the White King, and the King of Hell. Bad Wolf felt her hopes soar with this revelation. Now, she turned her attention to a time almost two hundred thousand years from this point.
Xander rested in his chamber, now guarded by the former Jaffa warriors of Sokar, now it seemed, his warriors. The last few hours were somewhat of a blur. After the defeat of Apophis, Xander had ordered the return of the fleet and the gathering of all Goa’uld who served Sokar. The Jaffa were ordered to take them into custody, weapons and tools stripped, leaving their worlds in Jaffa control, under Lord Alexander’s rule. After seeing the Phoenix Lord, as they had now named him, not one of Sokar’s Jaffa would dare challenge him. They were almost blissful in their desire to carry out his wishes. Apparently, he was more of a religious figure than Sokar ever was. At least, no one they had ever seen came back from the dead without a sarcophagus.
Xander asked Jack to have the cargo ship land and the others join them. Needless to say, Sam, Jacob and Faith were floored by what they learned. After discovering the presence of Sokar’s sarcophagus, Xander had asked both Faith and Jacob if they wished to use it. Jacob stated he would heal fine on his own, but Faith and Thallia were having complications in their healing. Xander placed them in the device and waited for them to revive, healed and whole.
Of course, he dreaded the questioning that would come later. Jack and the rest of SG-1 had headed back to the Mountain to report the new development to General Hammond. Let the brass sort out the mess this was going to cause.
Xander was still wrapping his mind around everything, and of course was wondering why he felt two pulses within his body instead of his previous one, when a strange grinding, cycling sound faded into hearing. A blue box, larger than a telephone booth, was forming in his chambers. It even had what looked like wood paneling and signs denoting it to be a ‘Police public call Box’. Sounded British for some reason, but he hadn’t seen any when he was in London last.
When the sound stopped, a man stepped out of the box looking around. He looked then straight at Xander and said, “Who the hell are you?”
“Xander Harris, and fella, you’re the one who just teleported into my room, so who the hell are you?”
“Me? I’m the Doctor. I’m looking for a Time Lord here. I felt his distress call and need to find him.” The man exited the box followed by two people, a tall chiseled Clark-Kent-wannabe and a cute blonde girl who looked familiar but he could not place her face.
“Well, Doc, I’m not surprised you picked up something, what with them ears, but what the hell is a Time Lord?”
The Doctor looked closely at the young man before him and felt his eyes widen as he felt a contact he had not felt since before the end of the Time War. Before his people died.
He felt the presence of another Time Lord.
“I would have to say you are,” the Doctor barely whispered, not believing what he saw and felt.
From the door of the chamber, the newly healed and restored pair of Faith and Thallia, wrapped in only a sheet from the sarcophagus chamber, looked at the scene they had just walked in on and summed up her feelings in the most diplomatic fashion she could at the moment.
“What the Fuck???”
Well there is a lot that went before, and a lot to come after, but I have wanted to post this for a while. It was incomplete until I saw the new series of Doctor Who. It looked like just what I needed to put it all together. I have been told that I HAD to post this, as well as write more. I might have more in the future. And Knight of the Sword still is in progress.
Drake the Archr