jedibuttercup (
jedibuttercup) wrote2022-08-08 01:33 pm
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Entry tags:
Fic: Seven for a Witch (Sleepy Hollow/B:tVS; gen)
T; Sleepy Hollow/B:tVS; 1100 words. For
twistedshorts.
"Nice tree," the stranger said to Pandora. "A little obvious, though, don't you think? There are a lot less complicated options available to cross the veil between worlds these days."
Title: Seven for a Witch
Author: Jedi Buttercup
Disclaimer: The words are mine; the worlds are not.
Rating: T/PG-13
Spoilers: Post-canon for B:tVS; Early S3 for Sleepy Hollow
Notes: Titled from the Oxford Dictionary of Superstitions version of the magpie counting rhyme (another version of which Pandora quotes in 3.1 "I, Witness")
Summary: "Nice tree," the stranger said to Pandora. "A little obvious, though, don't you think? There are a lot less complicated options available to cross the veil between worlds these days." 1100 words.
The sound of light footsteps scraping against stone caught Pandora's attention, and she froze in the act of stirring the waters of her scrying pond. Her tree was still young, only beginning to drink in the fear it would need to bloom; until it was full grown and capable of bridging the gap between this lesser world and the one where her husband had been imprisoned for millennia, she was still vulnerable.
She had not invited anyone. And from what she had seen so far of the Witnesses, they did not yet suspect there was anything particularly unusual about her. Who else could have known she had come to Sleepy Hollow, much less followed her to her refuge? Well, whoever it was, they were in for a surprise. Pandora had not lost any of her magical ability in the long years of her wait, and in fact had grown much stronger in the last decade or so since the fall of the Hellmouth on the opposite coast had sent shockwaves through the supernatural equilibrium. She had already been drawn to the vicinity by the waves of fear emanating from the town in its last few months of existence; its final days had fed the reservoirs of her power near to bursting. And now that the destruction of Moloch had finally lifted the veil he'd held over the Hudson Valley for more than two centuries, her chance was finally at hand. She was not about to let anyone stop her.
The footsteps came again, much closer this time, and Pandora rose gracefully to her feet, turning to face the intruder. A young woman a few inches shorter than Pandora stood several arms-lengths distant, dressed in modern clothes that flattered her form and set off her pale skin and long, stylishly cut red hair. She also displayed no fear, not even the smallest, most involuntary morsel.
"Nice tree," the woman said, gesturing toward her project. "A little obvious, though, don't you think? There are a lot less complicated options available to cross the veil between worlds these days."
"None that reach quite so far as I need to go," Pandora corrected her, wariness warring with curiosity within her. Merely asking that question already put her visitor head and shoulders above most of the supernaturally blind inhabitants of the modern world; it had been a very long time since she'd encountered anyone else with genuine power, never mind anyone with the knowledge to recognize what she was doing. "And who might you be?"
"The witch in charge of monitoring the local flow of magic, of course," the woman said, giving her a wry smile. "You can call me Willow. Local as in Earth local, by the way, just in case you were wondering; I get the vibe you're not really from around here. Not sure yet whether it's dimensional here, or temporal here, or something else, though. Because a fear tree? Not the littlest rock to drop in the pond, and most people like to avoid Slayers getting drawn all up in their business."
Now that word Pandora recognized; at least at its root, as one more species of Napalatu, the ancient foes. She'd kept an eye on the Witnesses, but she hadn't seen any signs of a Slayer in Sleepy Hollow. This Willow clearly didn't claim the title, but just as clearly she was involved with one. The shadow following the witch had not yet announced her presence, but Pandora could sense her there: a mind like a watchful blade, waiting.
Her sense of intrigue faded in favor of a cool disinterest. "I think you'll find," she countered, "that most Slayers would like to avoid drawing me into their business," she said, lifting her hands to prepare to summon her powers.
The witch narrowed her eyes; then her green irises bled suddenly black. "Cute," she said. "Not particularly original, though." She lifted her own hands, and abruptly, the flow of Pandora's power slowed to a trickle, as though her connection her Box had been cut. Wide bands of invisible energy wrapped around her next, constricting her movements. "Which I guess means it's a no on the talking front. Shame; you're really pretty, and I do get the vengeance thing, you know."
"Wills," the shadow chided, coming forward; a slighter blonde woman with an axe-like blade clasped in her hands, radiating power of its own.
"What, she is," the witch shrugged, unapologetically.
"You could not possibly begin to know what I have been through," Pandora sneered, struggling harder. The spellweave was tight, but she was next best thing to a goddess; no trap would hold her for long. "I require no one's understanding or sympathy. All I require is my husband."
"Oh, is that all?" Willow's eyebrows arched high, and the sense of menace that had vibrated through the air with along with the darkening of her eyes abruptly faded. She blinked color back into her gaze, then glanced at the tree with a speculative air. "Buffy, if you'll get the tree? I'll w-word her along."
"Sure thing, Wills," the blonde said. "One less threat to humanity, coming right up."
"No!" Pandora cried as the Slayer advanced on the tree, lifting her weapon in a high arc and then swinging it toward the trunk with inhuman strength and momentum. "You cannot!" Her own power would regenerate once her connection to her pithos was reestablished, but the tree would not.
The blow landed, biting deep into the bark; then Willow shifted one of her hands from covering Pandora to stretch toward the shivering branches. Pandora listened to her chant with growing alarm and fury-- but she had not yet managed to break the spell, and there was nothing she could do.
A second blow landed; the tree toppled, severed just above the roots; then the fallen trunk dissolved into fat black motes of dust that rushed toward Pandora. "What have you done!"
"Good luck," Willow said with a cheery wave as the world began to blur. "Enjoy the conjugal visit!"
Then Pandora was abruptly somewhere else: an arid, mazelike landscape spread around the foot of a very familiar ziggurat. Her husband's.
She'd failed the Hidden One yet again. And with her Box much less powerful in this largely uninhabited realm, she doubted she would be able to shatter his prison.
She screamed her own rage and terror to the frozen sky, then took a deep breath and headed for the steps. Whatever happened next, at least she'd be with him.
And one day, perhaps, she'd face those Napalatu again, and make them fear her.
(x-posted on twistedshorts and on AO3)
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"Nice tree," the stranger said to Pandora. "A little obvious, though, don't you think? There are a lot less complicated options available to cross the veil between worlds these days."
Title: Seven for a Witch
Author: Jedi Buttercup
Disclaimer: The words are mine; the worlds are not.
Rating: T/PG-13
Spoilers: Post-canon for B:tVS; Early S3 for Sleepy Hollow
Notes: Titled from the Oxford Dictionary of Superstitions version of the magpie counting rhyme (another version of which Pandora quotes in 3.1 "I, Witness")
Summary: "Nice tree," the stranger said to Pandora. "A little obvious, though, don't you think? There are a lot less complicated options available to cross the veil between worlds these days." 1100 words.
The sound of light footsteps scraping against stone caught Pandora's attention, and she froze in the act of stirring the waters of her scrying pond. Her tree was still young, only beginning to drink in the fear it would need to bloom; until it was full grown and capable of bridging the gap between this lesser world and the one where her husband had been imprisoned for millennia, she was still vulnerable.
She had not invited anyone. And from what she had seen so far of the Witnesses, they did not yet suspect there was anything particularly unusual about her. Who else could have known she had come to Sleepy Hollow, much less followed her to her refuge? Well, whoever it was, they were in for a surprise. Pandora had not lost any of her magical ability in the long years of her wait, and in fact had grown much stronger in the last decade or so since the fall of the Hellmouth on the opposite coast had sent shockwaves through the supernatural equilibrium. She had already been drawn to the vicinity by the waves of fear emanating from the town in its last few months of existence; its final days had fed the reservoirs of her power near to bursting. And now that the destruction of Moloch had finally lifted the veil he'd held over the Hudson Valley for more than two centuries, her chance was finally at hand. She was not about to let anyone stop her.
The footsteps came again, much closer this time, and Pandora rose gracefully to her feet, turning to face the intruder. A young woman a few inches shorter than Pandora stood several arms-lengths distant, dressed in modern clothes that flattered her form and set off her pale skin and long, stylishly cut red hair. She also displayed no fear, not even the smallest, most involuntary morsel.
"Nice tree," the woman said, gesturing toward her project. "A little obvious, though, don't you think? There are a lot less complicated options available to cross the veil between worlds these days."
"None that reach quite so far as I need to go," Pandora corrected her, wariness warring with curiosity within her. Merely asking that question already put her visitor head and shoulders above most of the supernaturally blind inhabitants of the modern world; it had been a very long time since she'd encountered anyone else with genuine power, never mind anyone with the knowledge to recognize what she was doing. "And who might you be?"
"The witch in charge of monitoring the local flow of magic, of course," the woman said, giving her a wry smile. "You can call me Willow. Local as in Earth local, by the way, just in case you were wondering; I get the vibe you're not really from around here. Not sure yet whether it's dimensional here, or temporal here, or something else, though. Because a fear tree? Not the littlest rock to drop in the pond, and most people like to avoid Slayers getting drawn all up in their business."
Now that word Pandora recognized; at least at its root, as one more species of Napalatu, the ancient foes. She'd kept an eye on the Witnesses, but she hadn't seen any signs of a Slayer in Sleepy Hollow. This Willow clearly didn't claim the title, but just as clearly she was involved with one. The shadow following the witch had not yet announced her presence, but Pandora could sense her there: a mind like a watchful blade, waiting.
Her sense of intrigue faded in favor of a cool disinterest. "I think you'll find," she countered, "that most Slayers would like to avoid drawing me into their business," she said, lifting her hands to prepare to summon her powers.
The witch narrowed her eyes; then her green irises bled suddenly black. "Cute," she said. "Not particularly original, though." She lifted her own hands, and abruptly, the flow of Pandora's power slowed to a trickle, as though her connection her Box had been cut. Wide bands of invisible energy wrapped around her next, constricting her movements. "Which I guess means it's a no on the talking front. Shame; you're really pretty, and I do get the vengeance thing, you know."
"Wills," the shadow chided, coming forward; a slighter blonde woman with an axe-like blade clasped in her hands, radiating power of its own.
"What, she is," the witch shrugged, unapologetically.
"You could not possibly begin to know what I have been through," Pandora sneered, struggling harder. The spellweave was tight, but she was next best thing to a goddess; no trap would hold her for long. "I require no one's understanding or sympathy. All I require is my husband."
"Oh, is that all?" Willow's eyebrows arched high, and the sense of menace that had vibrated through the air with along with the darkening of her eyes abruptly faded. She blinked color back into her gaze, then glanced at the tree with a speculative air. "Buffy, if you'll get the tree? I'll w-word her along."
"Sure thing, Wills," the blonde said. "One less threat to humanity, coming right up."
"No!" Pandora cried as the Slayer advanced on the tree, lifting her weapon in a high arc and then swinging it toward the trunk with inhuman strength and momentum. "You cannot!" Her own power would regenerate once her connection to her pithos was reestablished, but the tree would not.
The blow landed, biting deep into the bark; then Willow shifted one of her hands from covering Pandora to stretch toward the shivering branches. Pandora listened to her chant with growing alarm and fury-- but she had not yet managed to break the spell, and there was nothing she could do.
A second blow landed; the tree toppled, severed just above the roots; then the fallen trunk dissolved into fat black motes of dust that rushed toward Pandora. "What have you done!"
"Good luck," Willow said with a cheery wave as the world began to blur. "Enjoy the conjugal visit!"
Then Pandora was abruptly somewhere else: an arid, mazelike landscape spread around the foot of a very familiar ziggurat. Her husband's.
She'd failed the Hidden One yet again. And with her Box much less powerful in this largely uninhabited realm, she doubted she would be able to shatter his prison.
She screamed her own rage and terror to the frozen sky, then took a deep breath and headed for the steps. Whatever happened next, at least she'd be with him.
And one day, perhaps, she'd face those Napalatu again, and make them fear her.
(x-posted on twistedshorts and on AO3)
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