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tamingthemuseTitle: Familiar (1/?)
Fandom: BtVS, Spike/OC
Prompt: #118, Mortal Coil
Warnings: none
Rating: MA eventually
Summary: Spike gets called to be a witch's familiar.
Part 1
The hour was getting late, or early depending on how you look at it, so Rebecca just grabbed all of the things the book said she should have, stuffed them into a duffel and went. It was a short walk, just a couple of hundred yards to the small clearing in the woods behind the cabin.
It didn't take long to set up the circle. Her grandmother had been preparing her for this her whole life. Except when her mother was around. Mom is so far in denial about her heritage they probably won't even find it when they do the autopsy.
Autopsy. That brought her grandmother to mind again so she closed her eyes and released the negative energy before continuing on with her ritual. She didn't want to do this. She didn't want to do this now. Not with Noma still in the morgue.
But this was important. The most important thing she did in her life as a witch. And it had to be done before sunrise on her twentieth birthday.
’No one lives in a bubble, little one," Noma had said many times. "A witch must have her familiar, her companion. My Setta has kept me company for all my adult life and has provided things that are necessary to me.’
After Noma's death, she had searched the house and the forest but the calico cat was gone. Noma and Setta had been a team, always together, so it would be no surprise if it had passed too. It couldn't really complain, cats aren't supposed to live for fifty-three years.
She really hoped she got a dog though. She wasn't much of a cat person. They were aloof and crapped in your shoes if they were mad at you.
Blowing out a long breath, and then another for good measure, she dropped her cloak and stepped into the break in her circle and completed it with the last handful of sand. She shook as a slight breeze swept over her. Skyclad was so overrated, especially in the autumn.
She sat cross legged on the grass and closed her eyes as she'd been instructed. She began the chant that would relax her and bring forward her subconscious.
’The only way to know what you truly need, what you truly want, little one, is to stop using your noodle and let your heart speak for you.’
She felt relaxed; she felt like she was drifting on a cloud. She felt like little sparkles of light were floating around her, occasionally touching her skin and warming it.
She let go of her conscious thought and let her heart search for the familiar it needed. She worked really hard at not letting the word 'dog' slip in there.
She knew when she'd found it. Warm radiant energy, coming from the earth, surrounded her and warmed her skin. An invigorating breeze blew by for a moment, making her hair fly up – just like in the movies.
She tried not to jump the gun and open her eyes. She took the time to thank the gods and goddesses for assisting her in this important quest and said the appropriate closing prayer.
Then she opened her eyes.
Oh boy!
She closed her eyes again and asked the goddesses for it to go away.
~~~~~
She wasn't the old lady, which wasn't a bad thing, considering she was naked.
But when he'd felt the pull he'd thought the old lady must need something so he went willingly. Old lady was nice and she made good pie. Nobody made decent pie anymore.
The closer he got, the stronger the pull was. He found himself running to get there and wishing that stupid legend about vampires being able to turn into bats and fly had been true. Something was very wrong.
When he hit the trees, everything changed. Something was very right. He'd felt the pull of her and almost felt something like lust– but no, he had no trouble getting women and the old lady wasn't his type. Definitely not lusting after her. It wasn’t lust, really, just… he knew he was supposed to be here. He knew that whatever was calling him was something he was meant to do. He just wished he knew what it was. And how long it was going to take because he was almost positive that straight flush of his was going to beat whatever the guy in the plaid shirt had.
He kept running, eager to find out what Fate had brought him this time and felt downright lucky when Fate handed him a naked girl. But the look on her face and the fact that she clamped her eyes shut again after getting the briefest glance at him did not bode well.
Couldn't tell much about her, what with her sitting on the ground and covering herself up with her arms like she was, but she had nice hair: kind of long, kind of dark, kind of curly. She looked cold, which made her skin look funny, like a plucked turkey. He hadn't seen much of her face, but then he'd been concentrating on those knockers that no man in his right mind would ever turn away from.
“Did you summon me?”
He had to ask. She looked surprised and a little afraid, so he thought he’d better clarify whether or not this was some kind of mistake. It didn’t feel like a mistake though.
“No,” she insisted. “I was summoning a dog. Or rather, a familiar and I was hoping I’d get a dog.”
He looked around. “No dogs here. Are you sure you’ve done the spell right?”
“Yes, I’ve done the spell right,” she insisted with no small amount of indignation. “I’ve only been practicing this spell for almost a year.”
“All right, all right. Let’s not get testy. Why don’t you try it again and see if you can’t call that dog yer wanting.”
She covered herself with her cloak before dumping the used herbs and refilling her bowl with fresh ones. She took another deep breath but just as she was about to drop her cloak she turned to him and said, “Turn around.”
He smirked at her instead of pointing out that he’d already seen her goodies. Just the same, he turned until she got herself situated on the ground.
“Hecate, Ego precor accerso meus familair volo. Transporto mihi unus quisnam compositus meus animus. Redimio nos pro infinitio. Succurro mihi ut reperio meus rector huic secui of meus vita.”
He tried to follow along with her incantation, but his Latin was rusty. He could only pick out the odd word or two. Something about a familiar and a guide. That made sense. A witch needed her familiar.
That same funny feeling came upon him as she lit the herbs in her bowl. Something drawing him to this spot, by her side.
He hadn’t escaped his mortal coil only to find himself attached to one in his unlife. Or had he?
“Oh bloody hell!”
to be continued...
Fandom: BtVS, Spike/OC
Prompt: #118, Mortal Coil
Warnings: none
Rating: MA eventually
Summary: Spike gets called to be a witch's familiar.
Part 1
The hour was getting late, or early depending on how you look at it, so Rebecca just grabbed all of the things the book said she should have, stuffed them into a duffel and went. It was a short walk, just a couple of hundred yards to the small clearing in the woods behind the cabin.
It didn't take long to set up the circle. Her grandmother had been preparing her for this her whole life. Except when her mother was around. Mom is so far in denial about her heritage they probably won't even find it when they do the autopsy.
Autopsy. That brought her grandmother to mind again so she closed her eyes and released the negative energy before continuing on with her ritual. She didn't want to do this. She didn't want to do this now. Not with Noma still in the morgue.
But this was important. The most important thing she did in her life as a witch. And it had to be done before sunrise on her twentieth birthday.
’No one lives in a bubble, little one," Noma had said many times. "A witch must have her familiar, her companion. My Setta has kept me company for all my adult life and has provided things that are necessary to me.’
After Noma's death, she had searched the house and the forest but the calico cat was gone. Noma and Setta had been a team, always together, so it would be no surprise if it had passed too. It couldn't really complain, cats aren't supposed to live for fifty-three years.
She really hoped she got a dog though. She wasn't much of a cat person. They were aloof and crapped in your shoes if they were mad at you.
Blowing out a long breath, and then another for good measure, she dropped her cloak and stepped into the break in her circle and completed it with the last handful of sand. She shook as a slight breeze swept over her. Skyclad was so overrated, especially in the autumn.
She sat cross legged on the grass and closed her eyes as she'd been instructed. She began the chant that would relax her and bring forward her subconscious.
’The only way to know what you truly need, what you truly want, little one, is to stop using your noodle and let your heart speak for you.’
She felt relaxed; she felt like she was drifting on a cloud. She felt like little sparkles of light were floating around her, occasionally touching her skin and warming it.
She let go of her conscious thought and let her heart search for the familiar it needed. She worked really hard at not letting the word 'dog' slip in there.
She knew when she'd found it. Warm radiant energy, coming from the earth, surrounded her and warmed her skin. An invigorating breeze blew by for a moment, making her hair fly up – just like in the movies.
She tried not to jump the gun and open her eyes. She took the time to thank the gods and goddesses for assisting her in this important quest and said the appropriate closing prayer.
Then she opened her eyes.
Oh boy!
She closed her eyes again and asked the goddesses for it to go away.
~~~~~
She wasn't the old lady, which wasn't a bad thing, considering she was naked.
But when he'd felt the pull he'd thought the old lady must need something so he went willingly. Old lady was nice and she made good pie. Nobody made decent pie anymore.
The closer he got, the stronger the pull was. He found himself running to get there and wishing that stupid legend about vampires being able to turn into bats and fly had been true. Something was very wrong.
When he hit the trees, everything changed. Something was very right. He'd felt the pull of her and almost felt something like lust– but no, he had no trouble getting women and the old lady wasn't his type. Definitely not lusting after her. It wasn’t lust, really, just… he knew he was supposed to be here. He knew that whatever was calling him was something he was meant to do. He just wished he knew what it was. And how long it was going to take because he was almost positive that straight flush of his was going to beat whatever the guy in the plaid shirt had.
He kept running, eager to find out what Fate had brought him this time and felt downright lucky when Fate handed him a naked girl. But the look on her face and the fact that she clamped her eyes shut again after getting the briefest glance at him did not bode well.
Couldn't tell much about her, what with her sitting on the ground and covering herself up with her arms like she was, but she had nice hair: kind of long, kind of dark, kind of curly. She looked cold, which made her skin look funny, like a plucked turkey. He hadn't seen much of her face, but then he'd been concentrating on those knockers that no man in his right mind would ever turn away from.
“Did you summon me?”
He had to ask. She looked surprised and a little afraid, so he thought he’d better clarify whether or not this was some kind of mistake. It didn’t feel like a mistake though.
“No,” she insisted. “I was summoning a dog. Or rather, a familiar and I was hoping I’d get a dog.”
He looked around. “No dogs here. Are you sure you’ve done the spell right?”
“Yes, I’ve done the spell right,” she insisted with no small amount of indignation. “I’ve only been practicing this spell for almost a year.”
“All right, all right. Let’s not get testy. Why don’t you try it again and see if you can’t call that dog yer wanting.”
She covered herself with her cloak before dumping the used herbs and refilling her bowl with fresh ones. She took another deep breath but just as she was about to drop her cloak she turned to him and said, “Turn around.”
He smirked at her instead of pointing out that he’d already seen her goodies. Just the same, he turned until she got herself situated on the ground.
“Hecate, Ego precor accerso meus familair volo. Transporto mihi unus quisnam compositus meus animus. Redimio nos pro infinitio. Succurro mihi ut reperio meus rector huic secui of meus vita.”
He tried to follow along with her incantation, but his Latin was rusty. He could only pick out the odd word or two. Something about a familiar and a guide. That made sense. A witch needed her familiar.
That same funny feeling came upon him as she lit the herbs in her bowl. Something drawing him to this spot, by her side.
He hadn’t escaped his mortal coil only to find himself attached to one in his unlife. Or had he?
“Oh bloody hell!”
to be continued...
