Neither Angel nor the Chronicles of Narnia belong to me. The title of the fic is from Søren Kierkegaard.Spoilers:
All five seasons of Angel, as well as After the Fall, and all seven books of Narnia.Timeline:
Takes place during After the Fall, where Illyria is troubled by Fred's memories and the echoes of humanity within her.A/N:
This is probably the most unusual FFA pairing I’ve tried to date. And I’m still not sure if it works or not… I even considered not posting it. Jury’s still out whether I made the right choice or not. :/
Disclaimer: BtVS, AtS, and Chronicles of Narnia do not belong to me. All photos obtained from Google Images and Screencap Paradise. Background texture is from brinneydee designs
.Fear and Trembling+++
The grass was tall. Her hand skimmed the blades as she walked, the hem of her dress catching slightly with every step she took. She felt the sun on her face as it bathed her in its glow.
A gentle wind began to breeze through the valley, sweeping her long brown hair away from her face, providing a welcome contrast to the sun’s warmth.
It was peaceful here, but she expected no less in his
Before long, a castle emerged in the distance – and with it came a deafening roar, only it was from behind.
“You are not welcome here, Old One.”
Slowly, she turned, hair and skin taking on a distinct blue tinge.
“You do not presume to tell me where I may or may not go, lion,” she coldly replied. “Is she here?”
He stared at her, gauging, studying, testing
. “Why does that matter to you?” he finally asked. “For you do not value any life except your own.”
She snorted in derision. “Your arrogance offends me, you who use children to fight your wars, manipulating these pitiful beings beneath you to serve your own purposes,” she scoffed.
He shook his mane, daring to deny the truth in her words. Still, she stayed her hand, though it wounded her grievously to do so.
“What is your business here?” he demanded.
“That is none of your concern.”
“Is it not? When you tear through the very fabric of space and time in search of this one, this Winifred
, daring to enter numerous dimensions, even ones that are expressly forbidden to one such as you?” he said, voice booming, lips curling up into a snarl. And the earth beneath her feet trembled.
She gave a ghost of a smile. Her mere presence gnawed at him like maggots to rotting flesh. Good. She would not deign to answer his impertinent question, to admit that she came to understand
, understand who she was, who she had become.
He began to circle around her. She merely stood there and waited, though her patience lessened with each passing moment.
“You are not what you once were, in many ways,” he observed.
There was humor in his voice. Insolent.
Rising to her full height, she stared, her hair now almost completely blue, her dress melting into armor. “You forget yourself, lion. I am, and always will
be, Illyria, God-King of the Primordium,” she glowered.
The only response she got was an amused look, the final indignity. She went still with rage.
“Enough,” she hissed. “Spike has claimed that there is more than one way to flay a feline. Only now do I understand why one would indulge in such a pointless act.”
Hackles raised, he let out a thunderous roar.
The ground shook.
And for the first time since she had arrived, she was pleased. +++
A/N: Aslan’s Country is essentially Heaven. I'm obviously going with the idea that Fred's soul wasn't destroyed (and I believe this was Joss' original intention as well) but that it went to one of the Heaven dimensions.
Also, I realize that Illyria is male, but she was in Fred's form so I continued to use 'she' for continuity's sake. I hope you'll forgive me!