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Xander of Lancaster

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Summary: Annoyed, Giles gets Xander to dress as someone notable.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Literature > Classics > Author: William ShakespearetohonomikeFR713,8312125,42113 Nov 0513 Nov 05Yes
Xander of Lancaster

Author: Tohonomike

Disclaimer: All characters belong to their rightful owners...Joss/Mutant Enemy, and they aren’t mine either and any other characters or real-life folks are clearly not mine. NO money is involved. None are mine.

This is a One-Shot. I don’t know where it came from…but here it is.

The Crossovers? Hmm, Shakespeare’s Henry the Fifth and a cameo at the end by someone else.

November 1st, 1997 – Royal Memorial Hospital

Alexander Lavelle Harris didn’t know quite what to make of the situation, so he fainted.


He’d been bitching to Giles about having to not only come up with something for on Shakespeare that nobody else in class was doing, but now had to pull escort duty for Snyder’s Halloween Escort Extravaganza! Buffy and Willow had come in, but whatever it was they wanted to sneak away from the Watcher, they didn’t get it and left. And Xander had wanted to borrow some of the weapons cage stuff so he wouldn’t have to just go as a soldier, and had even taken the stack of 18th Century research materials from Giles’ office and returned them to the right spots in the stacks to get on the man’s good side.

The Watcher had been annoyed at first, then had turned to the boy.

“Xander, if I let you borrow some of the things from the cage, and give you a costume idea that satisfies your English assignment, will you promise to leave me in peace for the rest of the day—”

“You bet, G-Man…”

“…and never call me by an infernal nickname such as that ever again.”


“Your word…Majesty…”

“Huh?” the boy considered, then intrigued in spite of himself, concurred, “Alright, you found me out, G-Man…Alexander Lavelle Harris when he gives his word…keeps it.”


“I give my word as outlined above.”

“Very well, my boy. Even though this really is a somewhat silly and tacky crass commercial event here in America, let’s see about making you a king…”


Xander surprised his friends when he made his way into Ethan’s a few minutes after them, and walked up to the counter.

“Yes young man, how might I be of service?”

“Well, I’m planning on going as a King and needed a few things; I have a longbow and sword, and some of the armor, but was hoping for help putting the rest of it together. Giles thought a costume shop might have something.”

‘Hmm,’ thought Ethan, ‘another protégé of Rupert’s, and Janus loves balance.’

The proprietor smiled at the young man, “Certainly, any one in particular?”

“Come on, British Guy, Longbow? King? We’re talking Shakespeare here.” In truth Xander couldn’t quite remember which one it was, but figured with the clues, Ethan would figure it out for him.

Willow and Buffy overheard parts of the transaction, and after Xander left conspired to find a costume appropriate for Willow that matched.

Willow was a bit worried, “Only if you come up with something similar, too.”

“I don’t know what Angel would like from his time, but I guess we can look.”


“Come on, Willow,” Buffy griped, “I agreed to dress as a medieval knight lady person so you can dress like royalty, and you throw the sheet over yourself. You want ridiculous? Move over Queeny, I’m coming in under the sheet.”

“Buffy! Get your own sheet!” Willow half-argued, half-laughed as the blonde slayer made the sheet only cover half of them.

“Hey,” the two best friends laughed, the sheeting almost off, “What’s that?”

The magic wafted over Sunnydale… and the world would never be the same again.


Henry Lancaster looked around in confusion. He was in a community of broad tree-lined streets, which themselves could be boasted as the best in the world. Small manor houses illuminated by intense unflickering lamps emphasized the wealth of this land. Perhaps he was in far Cathay or the other fabled lands past the bedeviling Turks that even now held the Holy Land.

But he knew that as small as they were, there seemed to be demons plaguing this night, and as a Christian Monarch his duty was simple. He leapt forward, drawing out his sword to defend two young women that sank to the ground with groans.

Henry’s cold steel blade sliced through a tall vampire, and it dusted as smaller vicious oddly-colored specimens fled in the face of Righteous Wrath. Watching as Chaos enveloped this burg, he stepped over and desperately attempted to aid the women who for unknown reasons were fading fast.

“May I be of assistance?” a polite man asked. Henry couldn’t understand him, but after a moment the two were able to converse in Latin well enough as the chirurgeon attempted to keep the two alive.

The young king was surprised not to be recognized, though this was obviously a foreign land, so introduced himself. The man, a Doctor Van Helsing, seemed young for his trade, but using what was obviously magic, placed them in a state of suspense.

“I fear I can do no more for them,” the doctor sighed, “We need to find a place of healing. We should carry them to a place of safety. I believe I saw a large complex that may have included a library just down the street. Perhaps a scholar might direct us appropriately?”

“Alright, I’ll take the red haired young lady and you the blonde, doctor.”

The two walked, when the redhead murmured something, “Henri?” and then something else and a bit of swearing. The king blushed as this was something of his private life and couldn’t be.

“Catherine?” he said, unable to completely control himself in this younger body of his, “But how? We aren’t even betrothed and certainly don’t have children yet.”

The young woman opened her eyes, and in the French of their time before passing out, “You don’t look like yourself…”

Doctor Van Helsing considered this, “If you are Henry of England, then you are almost six centuries in your future?”

“What?! How?”

“I only know from a news handbill blowing down the street earlier that it is a century beyond my own time as well. So, what year is it for you?”

The two men walked, Henry deciding to add four years to his date in hopes of finding out more, “1422.”

“Ah,” the doctor said after a moment, and began asking questions of Henry’s decisions as they approached the library. Henry was very unhappy about how things. The doctor talked about how things were different so must be from a different world. Henry used this and kept asking what his own counterpart had done.

They entered the library, by the expedient of kicking in the door of the place and stepping in to find a lone scholar look quite displeased at the disruption, then concerned at the condition of the two young women.


Richard Wilkins was Worried. He could feel Power change from steady emanations to something akin to the eye of a hurricane. Chaos and Hell, and something tapped from in the direction of Kingman’s Bluff that truly unsettled him. Twin points of trouble, one from the business district, and a far greater one from the high school, were steadily disconnecting his ties from those with whom he’d made deals.

Richard’s power was threatened. He picked up the phone, “Alan? Call all of our unofficial assets and send them to the High School. Tell them to end anyone and everything there that isn’t a child. They’re our future, you know.”


“William,” Drusilla considered seriously, not a trace of insanity in her at the moment, “If you’re determined to go out tonight, I’ll accompany you.”

“Really? Why Luv? I thought you didn’t want me to go?”

“If we don’t stop the madness, then all of this goes away. The magic man must be made to take back what he’s done.”

“What about the Slayer, Dru?”

“If there’s a later, William, if there’s a later…”


The blonde girl seemed to recover faster than the two temporally-displaced men believed possible, but the red-haired girl, Catherine of France, faded again.

“Where am I,” the blonde asked in medieval French, “And how come I to this place?”

Giles seemed flustered for a moment, then listened as in Latin Doctor Van Helsing, known to the librarian as Jonathan Levinson, established himself. The girl looked warily at the males identified as English. The girl accidentally broke a chair by gripping it.

“How is this?” she asked in Latin, which Giles understood.

“The young lady you are in is what is called a Slayer, who fights the vampires…”

“I know that, but I was the Slayer, but the situation in France required my attention more, to assure a better future for France.”

“So, you were a Slayer…you are Joan.”

“Yes I am. I take it you are a Watcher to this Slayer?”

“Indeed, and His Majesty and Her Majesty are friends of hers who help us here on what is called a Hellmouth.”

“Sacred Blood! If the three of us were Chosen to Intercede on the Mouth of Hell, then I should never have taken up arms against the Rightful King,” the girl concernedly stated and turned to Henry of Lancaster, “My Lord, if I return in time to undo my Wrong, I pledge Myself and Sword to the Rightness of Your Line.”

“Thank you…Joan,” the young-looking king considered, “But Catherine is dying and we should try to determine a way to save her, especially as she is the key to uniting our lands.”

Doctor Van Helsing turned to Giles, “Dr. Giles, as it seems we are in the bodies of your students, after attiring ourselves in their honor, perhaps finding the place at which they acquired these items might be a good starting point?”

Giles was about to answer when the doors flew open, Jenny Calendar helping a cat-costumed Cordelia inside, the teaching calling for help.

“Rupert! There are vampires outside on the grounds! As many as when the Master arose!”

Joan and Henry were both on their feet at once; despite previous political differences, they both knew where true duty lay.

“Where?” Henry asked in Latin, a language known to Jenny. As he asked, he watched as the doctor failed to successfully cast another suspension spell on Catherine, for whom he had very deep feelings he couldn’t explain. “No…” he whispered in heart-felt pain as the dark-haired woman replied automatically in Latin as to where the demons threatened.

He picked up his longbow and a quiver full of sturdy arrows. Joan readied her sword, wooden, as Catherine seemed to sit up. Her body remained on the table.

“No…” Xander/Henry moaned, as Catherine looked shocked at her ghost-form, “I pledge the end of these demons as my pitiful gift to your memory, Fair Kate…”

“Joan…” Catherine began, causing D’Arc to turn at her somehow-friend, “Help him.”

With a nod, the Slayer raced out of the room…


Spike, Drusilla and their group of eight minions strolled happily throughout the chaos of the town, but the once-crazed vampiress wouldn’t let any stop for a snack, “We have business, then pleasure, my pretty boys.”

Spike wasn’t sure if he liked her talking to the help that way, and decided that he’d have to send them pointlessly at the slayer or something right quick. And there the poof was, speaking of pointlessly and right quick. His grandsire was walking past the shop Dru was going on about, so the two must be connected.

“Get him,” Spike ordered the minions, then turned to Drusilla, who had started to look unhappy, “Now Dru, if he’s still around when we’re done with business you can worry ‘bout him, ‘right?”

“Daddy’s no fun ‘e’s not, but after we can see…”


Richard Wilkins most certainly did not care for the ever-increasing feelings f doom he felt, and tried to make a phone call to Wolfram and Hart, only to find the lines to the outside world didn’t seem to work.

“Well gosh, that can’t be good.” He called to have his car readied; he might perhaps need to take care of matters himself.


Joan dusted her fifth vampire, as Henry proved an excellent shot with a bow, exacting a sixth death and three indirect impalements that removed bloodsuckers from the fight. The two slowly withdrew toward the library, the bowman sniping from afar as the slayer managed to dust with efficient blows the few over-exuberant vampires that approached them. Such were their displayed skills that the vampires chose to wait until they had sufficient numbers so they could rush in and finish the mortals at once.


Catherine of France was very confused and very difficult as a ghost to calm down. Between Van Helsing and Giles, the two attempted to explain the situation as they considered it, and as she demanded more and more information, especially as to the fate of her son and kingdom in the years after his birth.

Giles was quite impressed at the mature bearing of the spirit in the form of Willow Rosenberg, and he was amazed at how one could babble and sometimes babble-swear in Latin.

Jenny quickly poured paint thinner cans and Rupert’s alcohol, except one bottle reserved as a Molotov, on the floor in front of the doors. Giles and Van Helsing prepared four crossbows with slightly-soaked rags at the end and they waited.


Angel managed to dust the first three minions in succession, but began taking telling hits from the others. A fourth went down as he noticed Drusilla and William entering the costume shop behind him.


Henry and Joan backed through the door, swords drawn and vampires pressing in, maybe a dozen or more. The Slayer stabbed and dusted one, then heard Jenny call out from behind, “To the Side!”

The Molotov struck a particularly big and ugly vampire as it entered the room, its contents igniting the demon and the floor into which he and four others had pressed. The demons screamed and fell back, enough to flame those behind. Joan, then Henry stabbed and slashed, taking advantage of the situation to end the four vampires.

One made it into the library, causing three more to try leaping through. Giles managed to fire a crossbow bolt into one as it found itself right in front of him. The bolt dusted the beast and carried through with remaining power to partially lodge into the face of another adventurous demon. Van Helsing fired his weapon, as did Jenny Calendar, each managing to end or maul an opponent.

Jenny stepped forward and mustering her rather weak person reserves, pointed her hands out the library doors, yelling “Arsum!” Two more in the hall screamed as others paused.

Giles and the Doctor stepped forward, using the ends of staves to end the vampires in front of them as the medieval duo ended two more but found themselves pressed back through the ebbing flames.

Jenny shifted back, reloading a crossbow as Catherine ran forward and simply attempted to confuse the vampires by shouting and waving her hands in front of its face. This allowed Henry to end another quickly and wasted the efforts of another that confusedly passed through the spirit.

Jenny finished reloading as Van Helsing struck a vampire in the face and Rupert barely forced the end of a staff into the unguarded chest. Weakened by burns across the chest that exposed bone, the demon was quickly dust to the men.

Cordelia fired a crossbow, but as weak as she was from the animal attack earlier, passed out from the effort.


Angel felt his sixth ribs crunch under the blows of tire irons and fists, but snuck in the shard of a bench into a fifth vampire and borke the face of another so now he only faced two.


Drusilla cooed as she breathed in the magic of the costume shop, its owner unaware of the two visitors’ identity. He came out from the rearmost room to find Drusilla trying to star-down the glowy-eyed bust of Janus.

As Ethan began to back up, he drew the attention of William the Bloody, who shook and admonishing finger at him, “Don’t go anywhere mate. Dru might want a word with you.”


Angel felt the stake just miss his heart, as he dropped toward the ground receiving another kick from the other. Luckily his opponent wasn’t very bright, allowing Angel to squeeze a stake pointed upward as the bloodsucker sought to body slam him to the ground. Dust covered him as the last one able to fight, wearing glasses, turned and ran.


Ethan raised his hand nonchalantly and activated a spell of fire, hoping to catch both vampires with it…


Jenny fired the crossbow, managing to unexpectedly shoot her target in the nose and out the back of the skull. The beast went down, not dusted but definitely out of this fight. Jean was hard-pressed by three, as two more pressed in against Henry. Van Helsing went to the aid of Joan, and Giles to Henry, hoping to turn events in each engagement. Jenny raced to reload as two more vampires, unsteadied by the blood and dimming fire, headed toward her. Catherine shrieked and waved her hands at the bloodsuckers, causing them to briefly pause. Her pain and turmoil attracted the attention of two demons elsewhere in town.


Spike dived in front of Drusilla, determined to save his love and sire, catching the small flame spell directly on the chest and face. Within seconds he was dust, but this was enough to cause Dru to knock over the bust as she reached for her paramour. Ethan began to flee.


Angel entered the costume shop, racing back at the sounds of screams. A man bumped into him and fell back into the room as a bust fell to the ground.


Henry decapitated one vampire, but even as Giles thrust the end of a staff into the side of the other, it was able to stab Henry with a large hunting knife it had been fighting with. It pierced his armpit and cut deep. Henry dropped, Catherine screamed again, this time more in a Willow voice.

Henry looked up to see Jenny dust one vampire with her last bolt, as another picked up Catherine’s body and made to bite her and feed from her neck.

“No!” he screamed, then collapsing, met her eyes, “I wish I knew all I needed ton know to have spent my life with you…”

“No!” Catherine screamed, her spirit dropping as her body felt the teeth sink deep, her eyes meeting Henry’s, “I wish we could have loved each other and raised many children together…”


The bust struck the floor, the energy setting Drusilla’s clothes on fire. Not knowing the situation, Angel felt a bit singed from the blast, which caused his body to writhe even as the man he attempted to save likewise screamed and shriveled.


In the library the two Royals faded, but the two hosts remained, almost similar sentiments voiced as they completed the wishes.



And two vengeance demons standing directly on the Hellmouth, unsure of the situation, automatically responded, “Done!”

The vampire that had begun to feed on Willow accidentally bumped Anyanka, who did not take it well, and she paused long enough to slam her fist into the vamp’s chest, dusting it.

“Man…” she spat, though did nothing as the girl flopped back to the table.

Buffy watched as her friend Xander fell, and the others fought for their very lives. Giles was knocked back hard, bumping Jonathan into the backs of the last two vamps fighting the Slayer. She smiled evilly and managed to skewer both through the heart with one stab. As the dust settled, she ran to Willow first.

Richard Wilkins felt all power suddenly leave his person as he entered the library of the school, minions dust and young people injured. Sensing a fading of demonic and chaotic magic until his senses ceased, he sighed and pulled out a cell phone.

“This is Wilkins, send ambulances to the high school immediately, please.


Xander woke in pain, unsure of the situation, several sets of memories slowly fitting themselves together. It wasn’t every night one became Henry the Fifth, and he could remember both lives of that monarch…dying of dysentery at the age of thirty-five, his work unfinished, and another, wherein he, that is Henry, lived another forty years happily married and fathering a large dynasty.

His own memories were also rather crazy, ones in which he’d grown up as Alexander Lavelle Harris, of Sunnydale, and the other memories…

“Your Majesty,” a relieved voice sighed as Xander opened his eyes to find a man the second set of memories told him was a Quentin Travers, Head of the Watchers Council and part of his uncle’s set of advisors. Another was a Sir Integra Hellsing he remembered as dealing with matters solely within the Islands and France.

“What do you mean, Your Majesty?” he said in confusion, as Rupert Giles stepped forward. Xander frowned a moment, “Um, could only Giles please remain for the moment? I’m a bit out of it?”

After some murmurings, Xander looked to his mentor, “Giles?”

“Xander?” the man asked cautiously, “What do you remember last night?”

“I’d say it’s what I don’t remember…things are complicated.”

“Indeed. Where do you go to school?”

“Sunnydale High of—oh, wait.”

“Ah, so you remember being Xander Harris?”

“Yeah…and I promised not to call you?”


“So what happened?”

“Multiple magics caused a change in time, your Halloween, uh, counterparts, seemed to change the timeline…but since an event was needed to do that, it seems that those of in Sunnydale remained essentially the same. Though I believe most of the others will quickly lose their echoes of previous lives.”


“Your affianced is being treated in the next room,” the librarian smirked, watching the boy’s face.

“We’re betrothed…of course we are…boy, this is confusing.”

“Indeed, but we must all persevere, as I must carry memories of my king as having been ‘Xander’ at one time.”

“Why did Travers call me Majesty?”

“Um, Sire, it appears that the plane landing with the Royal Family to pick you up from your tour of the Western Provinces crashed into what was Xander’s house and that of the Rosenbergs of the previous timelines, obliterating the streets between.”

“So whatever did this, adjusted things so that I would BE King?”

“It seems that way,” Giles sighed, “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you, Giles, though the main memories are those of Xander, so I can deal…but I can feel the others integrating…Giles my vocabulary is improving…”

“Indeed, as was Buffy’s, so there is a good side to this.”

“Zing. Okay, so what am I king of?”

“About seventy percent of the world…and unlike our own timeline, the Monarchy has about the same power and constraints as the American President would have.”

Consciousness was promptly lost…

…and the World would be a different one indeed.

The End

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