Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual. I ripped off this disclaimer.
Warning: Contains spoilers for season two.
Summary: Dyson struggles with the hand he's been dealt by the duplicitous Norn. Kenzi must help Bo stay focused if the succubus is to succeed as Champion. Lauren battles her own insecurities. This story also features Cleo Silsbury. She is introduced in my story "Erised". May be re-rated M at a later date.
Author's Note: This is a more or less a sequel to "Erised", but I think you can read this without having read that (don't shoot me if that's not true—just go read Erised. :P) . I was planning on taking my time with this one, but I decided to post before canon completely effs up everything I want to achieve with the story. ;) I hope you enjoy!
Weight of the World
by owelpost
· x ·
Cleo Silsbury shivered. The chill was not in the air; it came from within. She drew the material of her hoodie closer about her face and peered around the corner. Merely bearing witness to the atrocities before her went against everything that she stood for, but there were too many fae in one area to singlehandedly engage. Even as an Erised with the ability to absorb any creature's gift for a limited time—sometimes with devastating consequences—her hands were figuratively tied.
Choking on barely contained rage, Cleo continued to watch. She would need to make an accurate report to the Ash if they had any hope of curbing the ever more aggressive explosions of violence that seemed to be cropping up.
Several feet away, six dark fae surrounded a young light fae couple. There might have been a Mesmer among the onlookers because the female of the couple looked to be a puppet whose strings were being pulled by someone else. The young woman regarded her mate with obvious terror and grief while needling and berating him. Her words and actions definitely did not match her facial expressions as evidenced by the tears, brought on by involuntary duplicity, which leaked down her face.
Cleo's stomach threatened revolt when someone handed the young woman a knife and the puppeteer proceeded to make her use it. At that point she turned away, unable to bear witness. Walking away without helping the young man was proving to be one of the hardest things she had ever had to endure. Head down, Cleo slipped further into the shadows and made haste for a well-lit street where she might hail a cab to take her to the nearest train station.
If this was happening in a small northern town of Ontario there was no telling what would be happening in the bigger cities of the province. She needed to get back to Toronto as fast as public transit could take her.
· x ·
Coffee gurgled merrily in the background, filling the kitchen with a wonderful aroma. For the past five years few things in life had brought Doctor Lauren Lewis pleasure. The scent of freshly brewed coffee had previously topped the miniscule list. Coffee's reign had only recently been upset by something—someone—that blew the entire list away, magically making everything in Lauren's life seem decadent.
Her fingers found the hollow of her throat as heat rose to her cheeks. The soft touch of Bo's lips still lingered there. The succubus had stirred only marginally as Lauren shifted on the bed, shutting off the alarm before it could go off. The woman had reached across Lauren to pull her close, pressing a kiss to her skin before drifting back to sleep. Lauren had carefully extricated herself, slipping from Bo's bed to find her fastidiously arranged pile of clothing. She crept silently into the bathroom to change. Afterward she had come downstairs to plug in the coffee maker, having prepared it the night before with freshly ground beans, a pinch of salt to cut the bitterness, and filtered water.
Bo had insisted that Lauren stay with her for the past couple of nights. Ever since they had run into an Erised at the Dal Riata, Bo could not stand to be apart from Lauren longer than their everyday routines called for. Lauren, for the most part, had been delighted to oblige her lover, but sometimes guilt crept in, putting a damper on the high.
It had been harder to adjust than Lauren suspected. The Erised had removed her ethereal ties to her previous girlfriend, Nadia, making it possible for her relationship with Bo to blossom. Try as she might, though, Lauren simply couldn't let go of the guilt she felt at her original betrayal of Nadia. While Nadia had been in a coma Lauren had desperately sought the means to awaken her, but five years had proven a long time to go without the physical and emotional affection of another person. At the height of Lauren's despair, Bo had exploded into her life.
The succubus had enthralled Lauren from the first moment they met, when the doctor had been commanded to examine the exotic creature in her laboratory. It had only been a matter of time before Lauren's craving for intimacy had overridden her better judgment, compelling her to give in to the succubus' considerable charm.
As they grew closer, Lauren had bungled their relationship with a series of extreme mistakes, however well-intentioned, that should have driven them apart—and had in fact done so on more than one occasion. Bo, nevertheless, proved more forgiving than anyone Lauren had ever met. Somehow the succubus continued to support her regardless of the doctor's fundamental compulsion for secrecy. Bo had even helped Lauren discover the clue that lead to Nadia's freedom from the shaman's curse, which had, apparently, been the cause of her coma.
Nadia's awakening had forced them apart. Lauren tried her best to devote herself to Nadia, but ultimately failed. Her heart belonged to Bo and no matter what she tried to do she could not make herself let the succubus go. When Bo had touched the Erised with her gift, setting an unstoppable course of events into action, Lauren and Nadia's relationship had been dissolved as a consequence. Lauren often felt as though it was a cop-out and guilt sprang up occasionally, reminding her that she hadn't suffered any consequences for her indiscretions. And to think this was the least of her worries.
Bo continued to find trouble wherever she went. Lauren likened the succubus to a rare earth magnet, drawing danger and chaos—and conversely devotion—to her with unprecedented strength. This time all of the fae were embroiled in the brewing tempest and somehow Bo had been lofted as their champion, which Lauren found fundamentally terrifying. She'd just found Bo; to lose her to a war that made no sense was too frightening to dwell on. She had to suppress the thoughts immediately to prevent herself from melting into a quivering mess.
With a shaky sigh, Lauren checked her watch. It was nearly time for her first, albeit extremely early, appointment of the day. Pouring steaming coffee into her travel mug, Lauren shouldered her duffle bag and went out the front door of Bo's dilapidated, yet oddly enchanting residence.
· x ·
The problem with fighting humans was that it felt more like practicing tai chi forms than actual combat. Dyson could dodge his opponent's fist with ease, but threw up an elbow to deflect it instead. He followed with a lazy right hook. She managed to block it with a grunt. She skipped back and they circled one another. He watched her bounce up and down, switching her balance from foot to foot. Her eyes were wide with rapt attention. She breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth, chest rising and falling with every adrenalized heartbeat.
She came at him again, this time with a quick kick that connected with his calf. He stumbled forward. She backed away. He straightened. She punched. This time he dodged. They circled again.
He saw her eyes drop slightly before she hunched down and propelled herself at him, arms shoulder width apart. He widened his stance, bracing for the impact, ready for full body contact. At the last second she pulled up and made herself small enough to get inside his defenses. It was a brilliantly executed feint. She grabbed the sides of his head, gripping just under his ears. She stepped back and brought his face down to meet her knee. She used the rest of his forward momentum to flip him onto his back.
He dispelled some of the shock of the impact by slapping his arm out to the side. She straddled his midsection and rained succinct blows on his face. He took his time raising his arm to block. At the look of sheer determination on her face, he couldn't help but laugh. He tapped the mat three times.
"Okay, okay!" he shouted. His opponent stopped moving and cocked her head to the side. Her chest heaved from the exertion and sweat trickled from the side of her face down her neck. "That's enough for today."
She scrambled back and stood up, offering a hand. He gladly accepted and she helped pull him to his feet.
"Sorry about your face," she said as she grabbed a towel from a nearby bench.
He shrugged. "You fought well."
She acknowledged his praise with a curt nod and departed the gymnasium.
Dyson sighed. Taking his own towel from the bench, he draped it across his shoulders and sat down. His face was tender, but he'd suffered worse. Despite what she thought, her blows had barely tickled. They had only been sparring for a few weeks and she was still weak, but she learned quickly and she was clever. She also had surprising agility working in her favor. Although she would never be a match for a fae opponent, were it to come down to a real fight, he suspected she might be able to manufacture an escape. And with what was coming, he thought that was the best any of them could hope for.
His thoughts turned to Bo and he growled angrily. She had told him that Lachlan, the Ash, had asked her to be his champion—their champion—in the coming battle against a creature called the Garuda. Dyson had been furious to hear it and had tried to talk Bo out of it. The succubus was stubborn and refused to listen to reason and it had been Trick who had finally convinced Dyson to leave it alone.
It was times like these when Dyson felt the loss of his love for Bo most acutely. He had worked hard at forcing her to the fringes of his life with the hopeful inevitability of sparing her feelings. When she had turned to Lauren, Dyson had at first bristled. As time passed and he saw that Lauren was helping ease Bo's pain, he had struggled to come to terms. He was not the sort of man to prevent someone's happiness to assuage his own misery, but it was a daily effort that was growing increasingly more difficult.
If he still had her love, her trust, he was convinced he could reason with the succubus to let Lachlan and other members of the Light take care of the Garuda. There was no sense on dwelling on those thoughts, however, and he couldn't change what had happened between them. His only option was to support Bo in whatever way he could. If that included training humans indentured to the Light in combat, so be it.
· x ·
Bo shuffled sleepily around the kitchen. She tried not to bump into anything and cause a ruckus which might awaken Kenzi, who had drunk a whole lot of wine and passed out on the couch. The girl was positively grouchy after benders like that and Bo was loathe to deal with it this morning.
She had awoken alone. Again. Lauren always managed to slip out of bed before Bo could even fathom attempting to regain consciousness. Ever since discovering that sleeping with humans didn't necessarily mean waking up next to a corpse, Bo had become increasingly fond of snuggling. It was difficult to accomplish, however, when her partner wasn't there to snuggle with.
She had to smile, though, at the little note next to the percolator, written in Lauren's beautiful, precise hand. It mentioned sticky buns that the doctor had stashed in the oven to prevent Kenzi from eating them all, and that she had left the coffee on. At the bottom Lauren had drawn a cute little heart with an arrow through it, making Bo forget all about the fact that she had abandoned her at oh dark hundred in the morning.
Kenzi's loud, dramatically miserable groan brought Bo's attention back, although she couldn't wipe the stupid grin from her face. The younger woman rolled off the couch and half crouched-half walked to the kitchen counter, hoisting her tiny body onto a barstool. She clutched her head and groaned again.
Bo rolled her eyes. "Good morning."
"What's so good about it?" Kenzi wondered.
"Well, Lauren made coffee."
"Not sold yet. What else?"
"There are sticky buns."
Kenzi perked up at that, and then evidently regretted it because she winced and went back to squishing her temples with the heels of her hands. Bo chuckled softly and set about making them each a cup of coffee. She also went to the fridge and dug out a bottle of water. She handed the water and a couple Advil to her partner in crime.
"You really gotta quit drinking so much," Bo said.
"No way. Just get me to the Dal so Hale can fix me right up."
Ever since she had discovered that a Siren's song could be used to whistle away alcohol induced cranial damage, Kenzi had sought him out whenever overindulgence threatened to make sunglasses her best friend.
"Kenzi, Hale is not your personal hang over cure. You keep running to him anytime you have a headache and the boy's going to start expecting something in return," Bo teased. "Drink water."
Kenzi's face contorted as she sipped the flavorless fluid. She tipped her head back and popped the Advil in her mouth, choking them down. "Ugh!" she said, then reached out to Bo and flexed her fingers in a 'gimme' fashion.
The succubus shook her head at her friend and opened the oven door to pull out the secreted baked goods. She removed one from the plate and plunked it on a piece of paper towel for Kenzi. "Mmm, sticky sweet carbs!" Kenzi sang as she stuffed a large chunk in her mouth.
Bo moved around the counter to sit next to her friend. She put one cup of coffee in front of Kenzi, who smiled gratefully. Clutching her cup, Bo blew on the surface of the steaming liquid before taking a delicate sip. She moaned and her eyes fluttered closed. "God, that's heaven," she murmured.
"Barista girl strikes again," Kenzi grumbled.
Bo playfully swatted at the younger woman. "So, I'm going to the Dal to meet Dyson in a little while. You wanna tag?"
"'Course. Can't leave your lady lumps to their own devices, now can I? Never can tell what your succubum will get up to."
"You're insufferable," Bo said around a smile.
"Am not. What I am is possibly still drunk."
Bo scoffed. "Besides, it's only eight o'clock in the morning. What trouble could conceivably find me at this ungodly hour?"
· x ·