Edited a second time to Add: Umm ... and it was just brought to my attention that after two pages of mochas and breasts in this thread, you may have all forgotten what was going on. Tara is in Hell and has just agreed to do a ritual. This update picks up from there.
Edited to Add ... there are two parts to this update ... the second part is on the next page.
Okay, here's the update. It is angsty in the EXTREME. Please read the extra disclaimer added. I >think< (and don't hold me to this, because certain events that are supposed to be PART of an update have an odd habit of expanding themselves and becoming the WHOLE update) that there will be three or four parts after this one.
And for anyone who thinks this is just gratuitous pain, I'm hoping the point of this update will be clear at the end.
Title: Answering Darkness Part 51 - Tricks
Author: Sassette
Feedback: Can be sent to
pink_overalls@yahoo.com Summary: Tara talks to the Hell God
Spoiler Warning: Up to and including "Tabula Rasa" in Season 6.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. I'm just borrowing them.
Rating: PG-13
Notes: For the purpose of this story, all events of Tabula Rasa took place exactly as shown in the series; however, no subsequent episodes will affect this piece. We're splitting from canon here, because I impatiently began writing this before 'Smashed' and 'Wrecked' aired.
AND IN THIS UPDATE, KENNY DIES: I kill Kenny. I'm a bastard. Okay, no one >actually< dies, but there is lots of character death involved - just not in anything resembling a real sense. Just thought I'd give a warning about that, even though it's kind of spoilery. And if you're a crier-type, grab a hanky. Uhhh, Yuri … I know you're very manly and all, but this means you
Answering Darkness - Part 51
Tricks
By Sassette
"If …" Tara added on, her mind churning. It occurred to her that this had all been far too easy. Well, except for the fire part. But finding The Trickster and talking him into letting Willow go shouldn't have worked like that. It was … almost civilized.
"And here I thought you were going to be reasonable," The Trickster sighed. "Care to spend a little more time in the fire?" he asked, his voice taking on a low and dangerous note. "Because that can easily be arranged."
"I just … how do I know you'll hold up your end of the bargain? How do I know Willow will really be safe?" Tara asked, lifting her chin even as she cringed inwardly at the idea of being tossed back into the fires.
"You want some kind of guarantee?" The Trickster asked incredulously. "There are no guarantees, little girl. You'll have to take me at my word."
"Not good enough," Tara said flatly.
"Then I've no use for you," The Trickster said with a scowl, waving a hand and sending a shockwave of force at Tara.
Time seemed to slow for Tara as she could see the air rippling with power, moving towards her. Her own hand raised in slow motion, her heart thudding loudly in her ears.
They were simple words, which is why she remembered them, and she spoke, her voice low and sure, the necronomicon grasped in her hand.
Balance. The Picts had an unusual understanding of balance, and now some of that understanding was Tara's.
She couldn't confront a Hell God. She couldn't remotely hope to prevail. His force was too great for her to resist. No shield could hold against it - there was no block, no magick powerful enough to stop it cold.
Instead, she balanced the surrounding forces, smoothing out the disturbances The Trickster's attack had made, bleeding energy away from it and softening the blow.
Even so, the force struck her solidly in the chest, sending her flying back and crashing into the dirt landing awkwardly on her side. Her left arm was scratched and bruising, numerous scrapes seeping blood, her hip felt raw and tender, and part of her back was also sore.
She lifted her head and looked at the shadowy form of The Trickster, her eyes cold and hard and determined. Stifling a moan, she shifted, testing her limbs. Nothing seemed to be broken, but she moved gingerly, rising to her feet and standing to face him.
"So you learned a few tricks from your book," he said mockingly. "Time well spent. But perhaps you should have learned a bit more before facing me?"
Tara made no reply, stepping forward until she stood before him, battered, bleeding and naked, but standing. She would not relent, she would not give up, and she would not fail. Willow would be returned to her, and she wouldn't let anything stop her, God or not.
She could not see his eyes, but a wave of revulsion washed over her as she felt him looking at her, his gaze crawling up her body from her feet to the top of her head.
A cruel laugh echoed through the cave.
"You don't understand that you've already lost, do you?" The Trickster asked, his voice dripping with incredulity. "Are you so eager to die, Tara? Go back through the Hellmouth, back to your friends who are waiting for you still, unless you are prepared to make a deal."
"Not without Willow," Tara said stubbornly.
"Then you'll do the ritual?" The Trickster pressed.
"No," Tara said, even though she knew it was a lie. She would do anything to save Willow, anything at all, but she needed more information. The hairs on the back of her neck were standing up, and something in her was screaming a warning that she could not trust The Trickster. She needed to know what the catch was - needed to know exactly what she was agreeing to when she finally relented and performed the ritual to save Willow.
"Ahh, I think I see," The Trickster said easily. "You don't want to give up the power, even for Willow. You don't want to be just another person, with no magick. Nothing to make you special. She never would have noticed you without it - never would have spent time with you. And now you can't give it up, like she did."
"That's not true," Tara said, her voice shaking with repressed rage, even as a feeling of guilt welled up inside her. Wasn't it? Would she and Willow be together today without the magick? But that was a pointless question, because they >were< together. Willow didn't love her spells - she loved her. Tara. Didn't she?
"Willow took the risk. But you're not as strong as Willow, are you? You can't take the same kinds of risks that she can. And so you're going to let her down - you're going to let her die," The Trickster pressed mercilessly, every word making Tara flinch.
"I will not let her die," Tara ground out through her teeth, her jaw clenching.
"Then perform the ritual," The Trickster said easily.
"What do you get out of it?" Tara asked bluntly, desperation pushing her on. She had to know - she had to be aware of the full implications of her actions before she decided. But a piece of her wondered why - why she had to know so much. Did it matter? Wouldn't she pay any price to save Willow?
"I lose a witch, the Powers That Be lose a witch," The Trickster said softly. "It's an equitable trade."
"You'll lose her anyway, if you kill her," Tara said firmly, inwardly cringing at how cold and heartless the words sounded.
"Yes, that certainly seems true, doesn't it?" The Trickster asked cruelly.
"It is true," Tara said, her voice low and sure. "You're hiding something."
"Very good, Tara," he said, his voice warm and approving. "Perhaps you're not stupid after all."
"Where is Willow?" Tara asked slowly. "Why isn't she here?"
"She's proving to be … stubborn," The Trickster said carefully.
"She won't perform your ritual, will she?" Tara asked, a note of pride entering her voice. That was her Willow … stubborn to the end.
"It's only a matter of time. If she doesn't, she dies," The Trickster said, the shadow seeming to shrug.
"If you're planning on killing her anyway, why are we talking?" Tara asked slowly, pretty sure she didn't want to hear the answer.
"Because I'll give her back to you - let her go without performing the ritual - if you bind your powers to my service," The Trickster said. "I will grant you this one chance to save her."
"That doesn't make any sense," Tara said with a small frown, trying to understand the convoluted thought processes of this Hell God. She had to understand - she knew that, somehow, that understanding was necessary in making this decision. "What do you get out of letting her live?"
A second chance," The Trickster said simply. "Her line will continue. And then I can try again," he went on, his voice dripping with menace, sending a shock of cold fear straight into Tara's gut.
"And if she never has children?" Tara asked slowly, trying to work out an angle - any angle - to both save Willow and prevent The Trickster from getting what he wanted. Clearly, Willow wasn't being cooperative, and The Trickster needed her to live to get his second chance. But Tara didn't think he was bluffing - she didn't think the Hell God would have any problem just letting Willow die if he didn't get the added bonus of keeping her from being able to use her powers.
"Oh, she will," The Trickster said, his voice cold and hard, sending chills up and down Tara's spine. "One way or the other."
The implication of his words sunk in, and Tara suddenly felt sick, her mind spinning and her guts churning. "No," she said, her head shaking from side to side as she reflexively stepped back, trying to distance herself from his words by physically distancing herself from him.
"Then I suggest you two plan on having children, unless you want some man to develop an unhealthy longing for her, that he just can't help but act upon," The Trickster went on cruelly. "Perhaps your friend, Xander?"
"You bastard," Tara bit out, her eyes filling up with tears of frustration as her whole body shook with anger. "We'll stop you. We stopped Glory, and we'll stop you."
"You can't," The Trickster said, laughing with delight. "Glory's power was reduced by her unique situation with Ben. You'd have never defeated her if she had been at full strength. And I - I am a God, at full strength."
"I want your word that you will never interfere with Willow again, directly or indirectly, or her descendants," Tara said slowly as tears tracked down her dirty face, trying desperately to try to wrest some sort of concession from the Hell God.
"You are in no position to make demands," The Trickster said with a laugh. "But it was a nice try. You will perform the ritual, binding your powers in this lifetime. I, in return, will not interfere with Willow as long as she gives birth to a daughter before her 30th birthday. That is the deal. That is your only chance."
Tara studied the offer in her mind, her heart screaming at her to take it, as her mind yelled just as loudly to turn it down.
She could save Willow - but only at the cost of giving The Trickster another chance to come to Earth? A chance that he would take by manipulating Willow's descendants?
Did she have the right to make such a choice? Her sheer gut reaction was to take it - to let the consequences be damned and to keep Willow safe. That was always her first choice - to keep Willow safe.
But another part of her wasn't sure that was the right answer. An idea tickled the back of her mind, and though it made her sick to even think it, she let herself examine it fully.
She could let Willow die. She felt a wave of pain tear through her being at just the thought, but she pressed on - she needed to consider all the options, because there would be no second chance. There would be no going back once her decision was made here - no 'do-over'.
And if she let Willow die, her line would die with her, and The Trickster would live eternally here in Hell. But would that even make a difference? Without Glory to balance him, his influence would still prevail on Earth.
"I think you need more convincing," The Trickster said thoughtfully, breaking Tara out of her musings. Her eyes focused in on him, and she regarded him warily.
Before she had a chance to react, the shadows of the cave extended rushing forward towards her, then enveloping her, wrapping in their shrouding darkness. She felt as though she was floating in nothingness, and she was cold - so very cold.
An orb of light appeared in the gloom, then another, and another. She sped helplessly towards one of the orbs, its brilliant whiteness blinding her as it grew larger and larger.
Her arm raised up, shielding her eyes from the brilliance there, until she was right next to it. The orb was as large as she was, and squinting, she looked closer, just making out shadow shapes and figures there. Muffled voices issued forth, and she leaned closer, trying to make them out.
Edited by: Sassette at: 4/23/02 8:38:29 pm
by Mufin53 » Mon Apr 22, 2002 9:50 pm 
at: 4/23/02 7:13:17 pm
I need a hug.
