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edenfallingSummary: Lucy kills her first vampire at thirteen. A Council representative turns up the next day. Chronicles of Narnia/BtVS crossover. (1,700 words)
Note: This is forrthstewart, who encouraged me to elaborate on my previous elaboration of Sword and stake, her Lucy-as-Watcher ficlet. (In other words, it's a prequel to Sword and Stake (Hath Yet Her Honor and Her Toil).) This is probably the end of that process, though, since anything further would require more historical research than I particularly want to bother with. (Hmm. Unless it's to explain how they all live through TLB? Hmmm. *attempts to ward off plot bunnies*)
[ETA: Now crossposted here on AO3!]
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As Though To Breathe Were Life
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Lucy kills her first vampire at thirteen. Her surprise at finding creatures of dark magic here in the prosaic streets of England dulls her reactions long enough that her improvised stake turns to dust along with the vampire she stabs, and its companion takes the opportunity to flee.
She gives chase, scattering quick apologies as she darts past the handful of people enjoying the summer evening in the park, and manages to keep her second improvised weapon from its predecessor's fate. Of course, this leaves her with a large and blood-stained branch to explain, but she does her best to wipe the worst evidence away into the grass and carries the branch home, just in case. She ignores any strange looks with the grace of long practice.
Besides, Father has gone to Oxford with Peter to let him learn the city before Michaelmas term begins in autumn, Edmund is staying with Professor Kirke for the summer, and Susan is off with Aunt Polly working on relief efforts for the Continent. She has no one to guard her back. Strange looks are nothing compared to the danger of going unarmed.
Mother simply raises her eyebrow and says, "The princess rescued herself from the dragon once again, I see?"
"And went home, and became a great queen, and ruled wisely and well as her parents taught her to do," Lucy agrees. She sets the branch in the umbrella stand and kisses Mother's cheek. "Shall I help you with supper?"
"It's only yesterday's soup, but the table needs setting," Mother says. Lucy nods and sets to work.
They haven't told Mother and Father about Narnia, though it's an open, unspoken secret that something happened to them at the Professor's house, and something similar happened to Eustace two years later. Vampires are different though. Vampires are in this world, not safely tucked away behind magical doors and paintings. Vampires could hurt Mother and Father if Lucy doesn't warn them.
But she has no evidence beyond a dusty skirt and a bloody branch, and in any case the vampires of England may not be bound by the same rules and laws as those of Narnia. Best to keep silent until she's done some research and found some proof.
The next day, before she can go to the library and begin her search, an unfamiliar gentleman comes to call under the pretense of examining Lucy to determine whether she might be suitable for a scholarship to an exclusive and prestigious public school for young ladies. Lucy stews in frustration, until Mr. Dashwood makes a peculiar gesture behind his back where Mother can't see, and suddenly Lucy is alone in the parlor with him despite the impropriety.
She tucks a pewter letter opener under her skirts and wonders if vampires might have human allies.
"My dear, I should like to open by offering my sincere condolences for your unfortunate encounter last night," Mr. Dashwood says as he sits gingerly on the edge of the sofa and favors her with an earnest, patronizing look. "Vampires are unsettling to the strongest and bravest of men, and all the more so to a young girl of good upbringing."
"Vampires?" Lucy says in her best innocent voice.
"Vampires," Mr. Dashwood says firmly. "There's no need to dissemble, my dear. I shan't call you mad, if that's what has you worried. In fact, you may soon be calling me mad, though I assure you the story I'm about to relate is nothing but unvarnished truth."
Lucy relaxes her grip on the letter opener.
"Then I assure you I'll listen with an open mind," she says.
Despite her best attempts to ask leading questions, it takes far longer than it ought for Mr. Dashwood to explain the Watchers' Council and outline the secret war against demons, wherein young girls are called to serve as champions. He constantly tries to summarize and move on to what he refers to as The Test. Lucy can practically hear the capital letters. She can also tell that he would like to make his information contingent on the results of this test.
When she's certain she knows enough to deal with vampires, and has a reasonable sense of where to look for information on demons and other supernatural threats, Lucy smiles and asks about The Test.
Mr. Dashwood looks uncertain for the first time. "Er. You see, the former Slayer fell a month ago, preventing a rather nasty apocalypse. We haven't been able to find the new one yet, but one of the seers we keep on retainer saw a vision of your encounter and called you a warrior of the light. One potential interpretation is that you, my dear, have been called as the new Slayer."
Lucy raises her eyebrow in her best imitation of Mother.
"The traditional test is to hurl a knife at the suspected Slayer's head and see if she catches it," Mr. Dashwood continues, "but that strikes me as quite barbaric, not to mention dangerous should the girl in question turn out not to be the Slayer."
"I can catch knives," Lucy says. "Anyone can, with enough practice." And she certainly has the practice: nearly twenty years, in both Narnia and England. She thinks she'll take to carrying one of the wooden blanks she used to reteach herself knife juggling, when her return to childhood left her reflexes and body mismatched. If she sharpens the blade just a bit, it will make an excellent stake, easily explained away as a letter opener should anyone riffle through her bag or pockets.
"Er," Mr. Dashwood says again. "Well. In that case, perhaps we'll try a simpler test. Please close your eyes. I'm going to put something into your hands. Try to bend it into a circle. It shouldn't be difficult."
Unsurprisingly, Lucy fails to bend the poker into a circle.
"Ah," says Mr. Dashwood. "Hmm."
"I take it I'm not the Slayer," Lucy says.
"Indeed not. However, that does not mean you might not become the Slayer at some point in the future. The Council is highly interested in training the Slayers-in-waiting, as it were, to ensure that whoever is chosen begins her struggle from a solid footing. It would be remiss of me if I didn't attempt to determine whether you have such a potential."
"You have my permission," Lucy says.
Mr. Dashwood frowns, as if he didn't think he needed her consent, but he nods and makes agreeable noises as he pulls various items from his briefcase and draws a chalk circle on the hearthstones. Apparently testing for this nebulous potential requires a spell. The form of Mr. Dashwood's magic is different from the rituals Lucy remembers -- herbs and ointments and Latin rather than the plain English invocations of wind and wave she learned in the Seven Isles, the sacrificial charms of Calormen, or the swift, cold shock of Jadis's ice and wand -- but she keeps that to herself. Mr. Dashwood's tale portrayed other worlds as the abode of demons. She doubts he'd listen to her tale with the same open mind she listened to his.
The circle lights up in flickering gold for a second at the end of Mr. Dashwood's chant. He frowns. "That's unusual. It should either glow a steady white or do nothing. But never mind, never mind. The results are clear enough. You will never be called as a Slayer. You should be pleased, my dear. The Slayer's life is often nasty, brutish, and short -- no proper fate for a young lady such as yourself. You're best off staying out of the entire business."
"I shall do no such thing," Lucy says.
Mr. Dashwood gapes at her for a moment.
"But surely, my dear, you understand that vampires are dangerous. Best to leave them to those who have the training and the natural strength to stand against them. You have no need to trouble your heart and head over such horrors."
Lucy straightens her skirts and pins him with an unamused stare. "You're being awfully short-sighted," she says. "I don't see that it matters whether or not I've a mystical calling to slay vampires and other fell creatures. I'm not going to close my eyes and ignore them now that I know they're lurking about. That would be shameful cowardice."
"I sympathize, my dear, but--" Mr. Dashwood begins.
Lucy cuts him off. "I thank you for your concern, but I assure you I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself. Besides, it isn't as if I'll be fighting alone."
Mr. Dashwood blinks.
"Not all powers are dark. And I do have siblings," Lucy says kindly. She rises from her chair and moves pointedly toward the parlor door. "Thank you for your time and explanations, Mr. Dashwood. I can't say I'm glad to learn that this world has so much darkness, nor that your Council thinks it's better to fight in secret than to trust people to find their own way, but I do appreciate knowing the truth. Please give the new Slayer my regards when you find her, and tell her she is never alone so long as she has faith."
Mr. Dashwood makes one last attempt to convince her that she should stay home like a good girl. Lucy smiles and says she'll consider it, and ruthlessly abandons him to Mother's interrogation. He spins a convincing net of details about his purported school, and promises to submit Lucy's application with all due speed and his own personal recommendation -- it will, of course, come to nothing, but it sounds good in the moment.
And the moment is all that's required, it seems. Mr. Dashwood's card, which he hands to Mother, carries some sort of memory spell since Mother promptly forgets the entire incident.
Lucy is not amused. Neither are Edmund, Susan, and Peter when they return home and hear Lucy's story. They all agree that this new threat must be dealt with: both the vampires and the Council that claims to fight them. After all, those who fight monsters must take great care to see they don't fall into darkness themselves, and those who watch the Slayer need watchers of their own.
Lucy kills her third vampire at thirteen.
By her fourteenth birthday, she's stopped counting.
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End of Story
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Ha, I CAN SO still write things! Take that, stupid situational depression. I will wrestle new things into being despite your best efforts to leach the power of creation from my hands.
*stands firm against the darkness*
Note: This is for
rthstewart, who encouraged me to elaborate on my previous elaboration of Sword and stake, her Lucy-as-Watcher ficlet. (In other words, it's a prequel to Sword and Stake (Hath Yet Her Honor and Her Toil).) This is probably the end of that process, though, since anything further would require more historical research than I particularly want to bother with. (Hmm. Unless it's to explain how they all live through TLB? Hmmm. *attempts to ward off plot bunnies*)[ETA: Now crossposted here on AO3!]
---------------------------------------------
As Though To Breathe Were Life
---------------------------------------------
Lucy kills her first vampire at thirteen. Her surprise at finding creatures of dark magic here in the prosaic streets of England dulls her reactions long enough that her improvised stake turns to dust along with the vampire she stabs, and its companion takes the opportunity to flee.
She gives chase, scattering quick apologies as she darts past the handful of people enjoying the summer evening in the park, and manages to keep her second improvised weapon from its predecessor's fate. Of course, this leaves her with a large and blood-stained branch to explain, but she does her best to wipe the worst evidence away into the grass and carries the branch home, just in case. She ignores any strange looks with the grace of long practice.
Besides, Father has gone to Oxford with Peter to let him learn the city before Michaelmas term begins in autumn, Edmund is staying with Professor Kirke for the summer, and Susan is off with Aunt Polly working on relief efforts for the Continent. She has no one to guard her back. Strange looks are nothing compared to the danger of going unarmed.
Mother simply raises her eyebrow and says, "The princess rescued herself from the dragon once again, I see?"
"And went home, and became a great queen, and ruled wisely and well as her parents taught her to do," Lucy agrees. She sets the branch in the umbrella stand and kisses Mother's cheek. "Shall I help you with supper?"
"It's only yesterday's soup, but the table needs setting," Mother says. Lucy nods and sets to work.
They haven't told Mother and Father about Narnia, though it's an open, unspoken secret that something happened to them at the Professor's house, and something similar happened to Eustace two years later. Vampires are different though. Vampires are in this world, not safely tucked away behind magical doors and paintings. Vampires could hurt Mother and Father if Lucy doesn't warn them.
But she has no evidence beyond a dusty skirt and a bloody branch, and in any case the vampires of England may not be bound by the same rules and laws as those of Narnia. Best to keep silent until she's done some research and found some proof.
The next day, before she can go to the library and begin her search, an unfamiliar gentleman comes to call under the pretense of examining Lucy to determine whether she might be suitable for a scholarship to an exclusive and prestigious public school for young ladies. Lucy stews in frustration, until Mr. Dashwood makes a peculiar gesture behind his back where Mother can't see, and suddenly Lucy is alone in the parlor with him despite the impropriety.
She tucks a pewter letter opener under her skirts and wonders if vampires might have human allies.
"My dear, I should like to open by offering my sincere condolences for your unfortunate encounter last night," Mr. Dashwood says as he sits gingerly on the edge of the sofa and favors her with an earnest, patronizing look. "Vampires are unsettling to the strongest and bravest of men, and all the more so to a young girl of good upbringing."
"Vampires?" Lucy says in her best innocent voice.
"Vampires," Mr. Dashwood says firmly. "There's no need to dissemble, my dear. I shan't call you mad, if that's what has you worried. In fact, you may soon be calling me mad, though I assure you the story I'm about to relate is nothing but unvarnished truth."
Lucy relaxes her grip on the letter opener.
"Then I assure you I'll listen with an open mind," she says.
Despite her best attempts to ask leading questions, it takes far longer than it ought for Mr. Dashwood to explain the Watchers' Council and outline the secret war against demons, wherein young girls are called to serve as champions. He constantly tries to summarize and move on to what he refers to as The Test. Lucy can practically hear the capital letters. She can also tell that he would like to make his information contingent on the results of this test.
When she's certain she knows enough to deal with vampires, and has a reasonable sense of where to look for information on demons and other supernatural threats, Lucy smiles and asks about The Test.
Mr. Dashwood looks uncertain for the first time. "Er. You see, the former Slayer fell a month ago, preventing a rather nasty apocalypse. We haven't been able to find the new one yet, but one of the seers we keep on retainer saw a vision of your encounter and called you a warrior of the light. One potential interpretation is that you, my dear, have been called as the new Slayer."
Lucy raises her eyebrow in her best imitation of Mother.
"The traditional test is to hurl a knife at the suspected Slayer's head and see if she catches it," Mr. Dashwood continues, "but that strikes me as quite barbaric, not to mention dangerous should the girl in question turn out not to be the Slayer."
"I can catch knives," Lucy says. "Anyone can, with enough practice." And she certainly has the practice: nearly twenty years, in both Narnia and England. She thinks she'll take to carrying one of the wooden blanks she used to reteach herself knife juggling, when her return to childhood left her reflexes and body mismatched. If she sharpens the blade just a bit, it will make an excellent stake, easily explained away as a letter opener should anyone riffle through her bag or pockets.
"Er," Mr. Dashwood says again. "Well. In that case, perhaps we'll try a simpler test. Please close your eyes. I'm going to put something into your hands. Try to bend it into a circle. It shouldn't be difficult."
Unsurprisingly, Lucy fails to bend the poker into a circle.
"Ah," says Mr. Dashwood. "Hmm."
"I take it I'm not the Slayer," Lucy says.
"Indeed not. However, that does not mean you might not become the Slayer at some point in the future. The Council is highly interested in training the Slayers-in-waiting, as it were, to ensure that whoever is chosen begins her struggle from a solid footing. It would be remiss of me if I didn't attempt to determine whether you have such a potential."
"You have my permission," Lucy says.
Mr. Dashwood frowns, as if he didn't think he needed her consent, but he nods and makes agreeable noises as he pulls various items from his briefcase and draws a chalk circle on the hearthstones. Apparently testing for this nebulous potential requires a spell. The form of Mr. Dashwood's magic is different from the rituals Lucy remembers -- herbs and ointments and Latin rather than the plain English invocations of wind and wave she learned in the Seven Isles, the sacrificial charms of Calormen, or the swift, cold shock of Jadis's ice and wand -- but she keeps that to herself. Mr. Dashwood's tale portrayed other worlds as the abode of demons. She doubts he'd listen to her tale with the same open mind she listened to his.
The circle lights up in flickering gold for a second at the end of Mr. Dashwood's chant. He frowns. "That's unusual. It should either glow a steady white or do nothing. But never mind, never mind. The results are clear enough. You will never be called as a Slayer. You should be pleased, my dear. The Slayer's life is often nasty, brutish, and short -- no proper fate for a young lady such as yourself. You're best off staying out of the entire business."
"I shall do no such thing," Lucy says.
Mr. Dashwood gapes at her for a moment.
"But surely, my dear, you understand that vampires are dangerous. Best to leave them to those who have the training and the natural strength to stand against them. You have no need to trouble your heart and head over such horrors."
Lucy straightens her skirts and pins him with an unamused stare. "You're being awfully short-sighted," she says. "I don't see that it matters whether or not I've a mystical calling to slay vampires and other fell creatures. I'm not going to close my eyes and ignore them now that I know they're lurking about. That would be shameful cowardice."
"I sympathize, my dear, but--" Mr. Dashwood begins.
Lucy cuts him off. "I thank you for your concern, but I assure you I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself. Besides, it isn't as if I'll be fighting alone."
Mr. Dashwood blinks.
"Not all powers are dark. And I do have siblings," Lucy says kindly. She rises from her chair and moves pointedly toward the parlor door. "Thank you for your time and explanations, Mr. Dashwood. I can't say I'm glad to learn that this world has so much darkness, nor that your Council thinks it's better to fight in secret than to trust people to find their own way, but I do appreciate knowing the truth. Please give the new Slayer my regards when you find her, and tell her she is never alone so long as she has faith."
Mr. Dashwood makes one last attempt to convince her that she should stay home like a good girl. Lucy smiles and says she'll consider it, and ruthlessly abandons him to Mother's interrogation. He spins a convincing net of details about his purported school, and promises to submit Lucy's application with all due speed and his own personal recommendation -- it will, of course, come to nothing, but it sounds good in the moment.
And the moment is all that's required, it seems. Mr. Dashwood's card, which he hands to Mother, carries some sort of memory spell since Mother promptly forgets the entire incident.
Lucy is not amused. Neither are Edmund, Susan, and Peter when they return home and hear Lucy's story. They all agree that this new threat must be dealt with: both the vampires and the Council that claims to fight them. After all, those who fight monsters must take great care to see they don't fall into darkness themselves, and those who watch the Slayer need watchers of their own.
Lucy kills her third vampire at thirteen.
By her fourteenth birthday, she's stopped counting.
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End of Story
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Ha, I CAN SO still write things! Take that, stupid situational depression. I will wrestle new things into being despite your best efforts to leach the power of creation from my hands.
*stands firm against the darkness*
(no subject)
Date: 2014-05-24 01:30 pm (UTC)I just adore how much this is old watcher world and that Lucy just isn't buying any of it. What a great presentation. I know you aren't going to expand this but these are great fun as one shots and if you ever do post more, I'll gladly read it. I especially loved the little details of the pewter letter opener and that her mother is, while not exactly knowledgeable of Narnia, recognizing and open as to its obvious effects. Also, I am thrilled to see that your remix has gotten such great feedback! I'm so glad for you!
(no subject)
Date: 2014-05-25 05:30 am (UTC)I don't know how or why, but it's clear that the culture of the Narnia fans on ff.net has gone thoroughly rotten (probably a nasty combination of teenage self-righteousness and Christian fundamentalist self-righteousness, if I had to make a snap judgment) and you have been designated as an acceptable target. Which says NOTHING about you and EVERYTHING about the people who attack and belittle you. People who say such things reveal themselves as petty small-minded bullies -- I mean, if people don't like a story, why on earth would they go out of their way to keep reading it, and then take apparent glee in insulting the author? I can think of no reason that doesn't start and end with cruelty.
But anyway, I'm glad you liked this little story! This is actually the first time I've done anything with Mr. or Mrs. Pevensie, so that was an interesting aspect to explore, even in the context of a fusion AU. I would like to write one more ficlet in this continuity, set around TLB and involving alternate methods of traveling between dimensions, but my thoughts on that subject are very vague right now so I make no guarantees on when or whether I'll be able to carry through. *crosses fingers*
(no subject)
Date: 2014-05-24 02:15 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2014-05-25 05:32 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2014-05-24 03:36 pm (UTC)And hail your own valiance and your pride in what you have wrought.
(no subject)
Date: 2014-05-25 05:36 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2014-06-11 03:04 am (UTC)I can so see Lucy casually staking vampires, it's kinda scary. :-) And it makes me wonder about her siblings' techniques in dealing with such supernatural things in England. Hmm. Imagine if there was a Hellmouth in England!
(no subject)
Date: 2014-06-11 07:24 pm (UTC)I hadn't done anything with Mrs. or Mr. Pevensie before, but I think it would be next to impossible NOT to realize something had happened to the children, even if they keep mum about the details. And I assume the kids had to get their basic morals and positive outlook from somewhere, so why not their parents?
Peter and Lucy are very much about staking vampires and beheading demons and such-like. Susan is more interested in research: prophecies and protection and so on. Edmund is kind of in-between those approaches. Or at least I think that's how they'd tend to work; if and when I get the TLB-era fic to coalesce into something useful, that may well change in the writing.