Memories like ice shards cut
Disclaimer: I do not own anything, it all belongs to other people, but I can still dream, can I?
Authors Note: This is a Crossover Fic. I watched a movie and my over-reactive bunnies tossed me a ‘what if’ scenario and, of course, my brain wouldn’t shut up until I started to put this down. I have no idea where it will lead to, we will see.
Addendum: It has been quite some time since I last updated, but my fickle muse decided to abandon me. Sorry. Hopefully it won't take as long until the next update...
Child of Darkness, Son of Ice
Simone of the Zordiak
Chapter FiveDreams, flashes, fragments of other, former lives. A beautiful face, smiling at him, the sun, burning down on a battlefield, a feast, celebrating their victory, despair, disbelief, the cold feel of steel as the sword entered his back, RAGE, rebirth without emotions to guide him, endless centuries of Not-life, living in emptiness and the freezing cold. And then, him! His murderer once, he came to murder him again. A battle and the feeling of fear and despair, as he died once more. Standing in front of the one he owed his alliance to, listening to his new mission, that had already been decided for him...
His eyes snapped open and the sheet of ice covering him shattered, as he rose from his resting place. He shook his head, dislodging tiny splinters and the last mists of sleep. His dreams had been unexpected, but helpful. Now he had an idea where to start his new mission and thanks to last nights events, he would even have someone who would be able to help him. But there was something he had to do before he could start his plans.
His memories had been returned to him, memories of forty years of life in the 15th century and memories of 426 years of life as an undead monster. Both lives had left their marks on him. There were changes in his mannerism and behaviour that he could not and would not suppress and the knowledge he'd amassed during his last lives was going to be pretty useful. Well, if he could find a way to tell his friends that he had this knowledge.
But then, how long would he be able to hide the truth from Willow and Buffy, how long before Giles noticed something suspicious? No, it would be better if he could control the time and place of his confession, but that did not made it any easier. There was no easy way to explain what kind of monster he'd been in his last life... or better yet, unlife. Without mercy and remorse, without any emotions to hold him back, he'd done things that made him feel sick to his stomach. And wasn't it ironic, that he'd become a kind of monster hunter again? It hadn't gone so well the last time, ending with his betrayal and murder at the hands of his best friend... Briefly he wondered where Gabriel could be now, before resolutely shoving those thoughts into the deepest depths of his mind.
Absent-mindedly he walked through the main hall of his former home, his former prison. A thick sheet of dust was covering everything, dust and dried ichor. It pained him to look at it, for it was all that remained from his doomed children. He knew that it had been wrong, all his attempts to bring them to life destined to fail and yet they had been his children and he'd been as desperate as an emotionless being could be.
He remembered those short fleeting moments when they had shed their egg-sacks, flying around everywhere and Verona, dear dead Verona, had been so happy... of course it couldn't last. In the end, he had lost everything, his brides, his children and finally, his own life.
The icy mirror portal seemed to appear out of nowhere, but he soon was to realize that his feet had guided him here while he was remembering. Without even noticing he dipped into a dark part of his being, only to find it empty. His look of utter surprise was reflected perfectly in the mirror before him and once again he had to remind himself that he was human now.
All that remained of his former existence were his memories and the curse his father had cast upon him, the ice and the castle, which would follow him wherever he went. Those dreams of snow and loneliness, that had haunted his sleep for the last months, they had been memories of his former life slowly bubbling to the surface.
Those memories could cause him a lot of problems, for he had no idea how many little habits of his were still slumbering deep inside his subconsciousness. He would have to deal with it, but later.
Tentatively he touched the icy surface, feeling honest relief when his hand passed through to the other side. Since he was no vampire in this life, the mirror was allowing him passage in both directions. Should he become a vampire once more, it would become a portal without return again, but he would rather kill himself than becoming such a creature once more.
He frowned and banished that thought. Thinking about things like that was simply too morbid for him right now. There were other, more important things to worry about. Like the fact that he was going to meet the others in the library soon and he had no idea how he should tell them the truth without either being called a delusional liar or a monster...
It appeared that he would have to improvise. Hopefully Buffy would bee able to keep her more impulsive tendencies under control or this meeting could become very uncomfortable for him.