: Neither Marvel Nor Buffy Characters Belong to Me. All rights belong to the respective ownersStuttgart, Germany
The sorcerer’s voice thunders through the air, the very sound driving people to their knees.
Xander knelt with a weary sigh. He knows when it’s time to humor the lunatic. This was not how he wanted his day to go. He deliberately bows his head, biting his lip, determinedly turning his gaze away. The frenetic bursts of magic, the spastic twitching of extremities. The deathly pallor.
He does not want to see.
“Is not this simpler? Is this not your natural state? blah, blah, blah…
The bright lure of freedom yada, yada, yada
for identity. You were made blah, blah, blah,
kneel.”Control freak Issues, much?
Not that Xander cares. Nope. Nope. Nope. He’s not gonna get involved. Though every word from this being’s (See I can do p.c., Wils.) mouth rings false. His rhetoric so trite and contrived. Skin flushed and slick with sweat as jittery as Willow hopped up on three venti lattes. But it’s not his problem. He’s had enough of Death and he’s not gonna….“There are always men like you.”
“Excuse, me. Question,” he said, hand waving as he stood. Drawing both men’s attention. The old man’s eyes are old and worn. However, he gives Xander a grateful look. Xander kinda wants to throttle the old man; all of this could have gone so smoothly. No doubt, Iron Man or one of the other costumed heroes were on their way. But he also understands, understands the weariness. The stubborn pride. The utter inability to just freaking quit.
“You dare…” The dark-haired man turned to face him, giving Xander his first good look at the man. And he has to bite back a curse. He’s seen this shell shocked look on slayers and soldiers.
Xander held up his hands, placating. “Are your subjects not allowed to approach their ruler?” He can see the man’s thrown by his demeanor. That’s okay. He wouldn’t be the first to find him strange and off-putting.
The crowd is starting to get restless as if they’re not sure they want him speaking for them. But what do they know. They’re sheep. And there’s a look of disgust in the old man’s eyes, now. But Xander’s willing to pander. Hey, it’s no skin off his nose. He’s played manservant to Dracula. Appeasing super powered beings is number one on his resume. If he had a resume.
Waiting for an answer Xander takes the time to study the “man” before him. He’s disturbingly handsome, even though he looks like death warmed over. Bright green eyes, he knows Dawn would have described as dreamy, gleam with a fevered light. Sockets hollow and bruised. He can almost see the magic sparking like lightning off his skin. Like Darth Willow on steroids.
A cruel smirk curved the slender lips. “What would you ask your king?”
“What do you want?” Xander asked, taking a step toward the man.
A dark brow quirked, gaze incredulous. “To ru—”
“No,” Xander snapped, slashing his hand through the air in a dismissive gesture. He took another step and met the manic gaze head on.
The dark-haired man froze, gaze caught by the one eye. Eyes locked for an interminable moment.
“Not the lies you’ve told yourself. What do you want?” With each word, Xander took a step, passing the old man almost drifting through the crowd who have fallen silent.
Loki shifted nervously, unable to look away from the golden-brown orb. So like and unlike Odin’s. Not that cold, pitiless blue that told him No, Loki…
but a warm golden whiskey color.
Xander knows the godling’s not too sure what to do. That’s okay. According to Dawn, he’s like the Spanish Inquisition. No one ever expects him.
“This is not going to work,” Xander said quietly. His movements slow and careful as he makes his way closer. Voice low and calm. He’s come a long way since Faith. He’s gotten better at talking people off the ledge. He’s had to.
The scepter snapped toward him and he stopped.
“Who’s going to stop me? You,” sneered Loki, trying yet failing to tear his gaze from the mortal’s. There is something… something about the boy. His heart….
“No.” Xander shook his head. “No. Puny mortal, here. No. It’s not going to work because you lack conviction. You’re telling a lie, that you’re barely buying yourself.”
Loki growled, bringing the scepter fully to bear on the approaching mortal. “Do you know who I am?”
“Loki Odinson, Laufeyson, Son of None.”
Loki stiffened, gaze sharpened as he turned his seidhr to the “mortal”. “How—”
“I see you.”
Suddenly the mortal was only a breath away, hand reaching for the scepter before Loki could even react.
Xander let go with a quiet, “Oh.”
Loki stood mesmerized as the golden eye fairly glowed.
“Not you at all,” The strange mortal murmured, stepping back. Yet, remaining within touching distance.
“Step away from the civilian.”
The command boomed through the air.
Xander had only a second to think Don’t
before a blur of blue and white obscured his vision and then the night was filled with green fire.