Chosen by Destiny

by Lady Dawson

Chapter One: Daughter of a Slayer

Gwyneth Seymour gracefully leaped over the headstone, landing on her feet like a cat as she turned around, blocking the vampire's attack and sending him straight into a nearby tree, turning him to dust. Blue eyes blazing with power, she looked around for his mate, the redhead, but there was no sign of her. A bit worried that she would abandon her mate in the heat of battle, Gwyneth lowered her stake slightly, prepared for a surprise attack, but when none came, she cast out her Slayer senses, trying to sense where she might be.

Nothing.

There wasn't even a hint of vampiric activity in the cemetery. Gwyneth paused as she looked around, now deeply concerned, but it wasn't anything that couldn't wait for another night.

Shaking her head as she ran her fingers through her brown hair, Gwyneth started heading away from the cemetery, her steps quick and evenly-paced, her attention focused on everything around her so she didn't have a mishap that would result in her getting killed. It had happened to too many Slayers before her, dying young.

Well, Gwyneth thought with a wry smile, the Slayers that had come before her didn't have something that she did. She had something that was waiting for her when she came home, something so precious to her that it scared her to think that some demon might take it away from her.

Pushing that thought out of her mind, Gwyneth climbed up the steps to her house that she shared with her Watcher and pushed open the door, closing it behind her as she shrugged out of her coat and placed it on the coat rack, walking around the corner to find her Watcher Sam Wyatt sitting on the floor with her four-year-old daughter Arwen.

The little girl that had been born to the Slayer four years ago was the spitting image of Gwyneth herself as she looked around at her mother.

"Mama!" Arwen squealed as she scrambled to her feet, running over to her. Gwyneth smiled as she scooped up her fast-moving daughter, hoisting her up onto her hip. "Monsters go poof?"

"Yes, Mommy got the bad guys," Gwyneth assured her, kissing her daughter's brunette hair before looking at Sam. He gave her a small smile of understanding as he went to his study. "But I know one of us who is supposed to be in bed by now. Come on, little owl, let's go. Mommy will read to you and then you're going to bed."

Arwen frowned, but reluctantly allowed her mother to carry her upstairs and sweep her into her bed. "Mama, don't go out tomorrow night," she said suddenly. Gwyneth looked down at her daughter as Arwen peered up at her.

"Honey, you know Mommy has to go to work tomorrow night," she said gently and reassuringly. "I'll be back in time for you to go to bed."

"No, you won't," Arwen insisted. "Monsters will get you." Gwyneth sighed; sometimes she wondered if it had been a bad idea to let her daughter know about the dangers of the world so young. Sometimes, she didn't know if the monsters Arwen talked about were real or just her imagination.

"No, they won't. I'll make them go away."

"But I saw it!" Arwen insisted. Something about the way that Arwen said it made her mother paused, a thought passing through her head. No, no, that wasn't possible . . . but then again, Arwen was the only child born of a Slayer that anyone knew about. Who knew what kind of powers that would give her later in life? Who knew what Arwen would be capable of? "Mama, please?"

"We'll talk about it tomorrow, okay, sweetie?" Gwyneth bent over and kissed her daughter's crown before heading out of the room, turning off the light so that only the soft glow of her daughter's night-light was coming from the room. "Good night."

The moment that she closed Arwen's door behind her, Gwyneth leaned against the wall, closing her eyes carefully.

"It's never easy."

Glancing upwards, the Slayer saw her Watcher standing there, his arms folded across his chest as he smiled at his charge. "It's never easy to leave them alone, even without knowing the dangers of the world," he told her gently. "She may only be four, but she has a greater understanding of what is happening around her than you and I do."

"Sam, could she be having Slayer dreams? Is it possible?" Gwyneth queried as she followed her Watcher into his study, where his impressive, tiny library was. He could spend all of his day amongst his books and be perfectly content.

"Where Arwen is concerned, Gwyneth, anything is possible. As far as I know, there's never been a child born to a Slayer, much less a daughter. She may grow up to become a Slayer on her own, without even needing the previous Slayer to activate her."

Gwyneth frowned at the possibility. "Two Slayers at the same time?" she repeated, shaking her head in amazement. "Is that even possible?" Sam shrugged. "Do you think that she's having Slayer dreams or is it just her being a four year old? Sometimes it's hard to tell . . ."

"It's called being a mother, Gwyneth. I don't know if Arwen's dreams are indeed prophetic, but all the same, maybe it's best if you don't go patrolling tomorrow night. If nothing else, you could spend some quality time with your daughter. I know that you haven't spent many for awhile."

"Not since . . . not since Edward."

Gwyneth closed her eyes as she thought of Arwen's father, her boyfriend. Edward Grayson had barely known about the dangers that his girlfriend was involved in, nor did he know of the inheritance that his daughter would gain. When Gwyneth had finally told him, he had told her that she was crazy and went out alone at night to prove it. Scared for him, Gwyneth ran after him, but by the time that she had gotten to him, it was already too late.

And the vampires hadn't just killed him. They turned him and Gwyneth hadn't been able to kill him, her heart breaking every time she looked at what was left of the man she loved, reduced to a soulless, bloodsucking demon.

For almost five years, Gwyneth had been unable to kill the demon who wore Edward's face. He had left soon after Arwen's birth, biding his time. It was only three months ago when Edward returned and this time, he had his sights set on their daughter.

Arwen, not understanding that Edward wasn't her real father, invited him in and Sam had barely been able to fend off Edward when Gwyneth arrived back home and was forced to stake him to save Arwen.

The decision had forced her to choose between her lover and her daughter, but in reality, there had been no choice in the matter. Her lover wasn't her lover any longer. He was gone, dead a long time ago, and what was left was only the barest hint of what he had been. The man she loved wouldn't have tried to kill her. He wouldn't have attacked her daughter. He wouldn't have threatened vengeance on her, even as she plunged the stake into his heart.

"Which is why you should stay home tomorrow. Spend some time with Arwen. I know that she misses you."

Gwyneth looked longingly towards the bedroom that held her daughter, but shook her head firmly. "No, I can't," she answered quietly. "That vampire Alaric, I killed him tonight and his mate Josephine got away. There's no telling what she might be planning. I've got to find her tomorrow."

"Hmm." Sam looked at her carefully. "That's a good point, but what if what Arwen is true, then? She could possibly be foreseeing your death and if you go tomorrow, then you could be walking right into a trap."

"I can't sit around waiting for a trap, Sam. Especially when they might threaten my four-year-old. Don't think that I don't know that it might come true. I've known that my death is inevitable for years."

Sam sighed, nodding miserably. "It's a miracle that you've survived this long," he observed quietly. "And I, as a dutiful Watcher, will sit back and watch you die."

Gwyneth frowned at his tone. "Don't even think about following me tomorrow night," she warned him.

"I'm appalled that you would even suggest such a thing. Do you really think I would something like that?"

"Yes." Gwyneth stood up, shaking her head in amusement and exhaustion. "Because if I do die, then I need to know that my daughter will be well prepared for whatever might come for her. I want her to be well taken care of. And I don't trust the Council enough to let them know about her, let alone trust them with my kid."

Sam's expression softened. "I'm honoured that you would trust me with Arwen, Gwyneth, but you're my Slayer. I won't just sit back while you might be fighting for your life."

"And I'm not going to let you risk your life on the battlefield, old man."

--

Gwyneth ducked through the cemeteries, breathing in the sweet scent of the cool night as she kept an eye out for Josephine. The redheaded vampire had abandoned her mate in the heat of battle and left him to die. If there was one thing that she knew about vampires, it was that they did not abandon their mates, not to death.

So she needed to find out why Josephine did.

And she needed to kill her.

In that order.

It had been difficult to get out of the house tonight, mostly because Arwen kept crying and begging her not to go. Gwyneth had found it hard to resist her daughter's big blue eyes filled with tears and looking at her imploringly, but put her foot down, promising that she would be back soon.

Was Sam right? Could Arwen become a Slayer one day, changing the face of the Slayer line forever? Two Slayers instead of one? The Chosen Two, destined to fight against evil?

It was altogether too unbelievable. Gwyneth walked through the cemetery, ducking behind an oak tree as she saw the dark red hair of Josephine and peered out to look at the centuries old demon. She was talking to a younger vampire with blond hair, their words too quiet for her to hear.

But after a minute, Josephine nodded and gestured for the vampire to lead her somewhere. Gwyneth waited for them to get a good distance ahead of them before she started to follow, heading through the cemetery and up a couple of side streets before they entered in an old abandoned factory.

"Okay, that looks like a trap," Gwyneth muttered. But that didn't stop her from heading towards the factory, taking the back entrance and closing the door quietly behind her, staking the vampire that was standing guard there as she passed by him.

Quietly, she walked on the walkway overhead, hiding behind some canisters as she looked down at Josephine and the blond, who were waiting for something.

Or someone.

Finally, Josephine looked up, in full demonic face, her fangs glinting in the weak light as her yellow eyes focused on the place where Gwyneth was hiding. "Did you really think that you could hide from us, Slayer?" she asked with a laugh. "Come on down, join the party!"

Laughter erupted around them as Gwyneth whirled around just in time to see two vampires behind her before a third one arrived, knocking her out from behind.

When Gwyneth woke, she was chained to the wall and she felt weak, drained, exhausted. Not to mention, she felt blood escaping from her neck.

Josephine was standing there, her red hair tossed back as she smirked down at Gwyneth. "Is that what Alaric felt, do you think, when you destroyed him?" she queried. "Do you think he felt so weak and exhausted, when you turned him into dust? What do you think your daughter's going to feel, when I feed off of her?"

"You won't touch her!" Gwyneth hissed, blue eyes blazing. The vampires around her laughed. "I swear, if you lay a hand on her, I will hunt you down. I will hunt you down and I will kill you . . . even if it means . . . coming back from the dead. And do not think for one minute that I won't find a way to do that."

Josephine's smug expression flickered for a second and she considered Gwyneth quietly. "Do you think that we're going to hurt her? Don't be ridiculous, Slayer. We're not going to hurt her. We're going to raise her. Think of it; a Slayer fighting for vampires. We'll be infamous."

Gwyneth spat directly into Josephine's face. The redhead vampire just wiped the spittle off before she smirked. "That was a very big mistake, Slayer," she said smoothly. "And now . . ." Her pretty features turned back into the demonic one. "It's over for you."

Weak and exhausted and drained as she was, there was no way that Gwyneth could fight her off as Josephine sank her fangs into her flesh. With a scream, Gwyneth struggled to wriggle away, but the vampire held her in place, draining her of her blood.

Then, suddenly, miraculously, she pulled away and ducked as Sam appeared out of nowhere and charged at Josephine, a wooden stake in his hand as he ducked, managing to take down two of the vampires before a third one tackled him, knocking the stake out of his hands.

"Sam!" Gwyneth yelled, fighting desperately to break free now, but there was nothing she could do as Sam fought them, his eyes determined as he fought back, but one human, even a Watcher, against twenty vampires was not a desirable scenario.

Closing her eyes, Gwyneth looked away from the scene as Sam was drained of his blood and fell to the ground, dead before he hit it. Josephine stood up, walking back over to her and gripping Gwyneth's head so that there was no way to escape.

As Josephine's fangs sank into her flesh for a third time and Gwyneth felt her blood leaving her, she looked towards the ceiling and begged to whatever higher power was listening to protect her daughter.

So long as her daughter was kept safe, she would accept her death. As long as Arwen was safe, she would accept her fate.

--

Arwen sat curled up in her mother's closet, her breath coming out in soft quavers as she retreated even further. Uncle Sam had left her some time ago, telling her to lock the door behind her and not to open the door to anyone, not to invite anyone in that she didn't know.

Tears were sliding down her face; she knew he had gone to help her mommy. She had gone out, even though Arwen knew something was going to happen to her. She had seen in her dreams, seen her mother as they held her captive and then killed her.

Was Uncle Sam gonna die too? Was she gonna be left all alone? What was going to happen to her? Arwen wrapped her arms around the stuffed cat that her mother gave her, burying her face into it.

Hearing footsteps downstairs, Arwen froze fearfully. Her mother's footsteps were light and graceful, like a ballerina's. Uncle Sam's were quick and rapid, always preparing for something. These were quiet and careful, but heavier than her mother's. Arwen closed her eyes as they entered into the bedroom and stopped at the closet.

Pressing herself further against the wall, Arwen closed her eyes fearfully, terrified of who was standing outside of the closet as it opened.

But instead of a monster or something evil, there was a young man standing there. Actually, he looked more like a homeless person, with his clothes hanging around him, his eyes tired and hungry, but filled with kindness and understanding.

"Hey, it's okay," he assured her, seeing the fear in her eyes. "I'm gonna help you."

"Mama and Uncle Sam—"

"I know," he assured her. "I know. Arwen—it is Arwen, isn't it?" he asked her and she nodded. "I need to get you away from here. It's not safe for you right now, okay? Right now, you need to trust me, okay? I'm gonna get you somewhere safe."

Although hesitant and remembering her mother's warning not to trust anyone she didn't know, Arwen peered up into his soulful brown eyes and grasped his offered hand and he helped her out of the closet, scooping her up into his arms.

Clutching her stuffed animal to her, Arwen pressed her face into his chest as he raced out of the house and into the night, speeding away faster than she thought possible, faster than Mommy.

Arwen heard howls in the distance, filled with rage, and she reached out, gripping the stranger's jacket tightly and he held her tighter to him. "It's okay, Arwen," he assured her. "I've got you, you're safe. I'm gonna take you somewhere safe, all right?"

"Where's safe?" Arwen wanted to know, looking up at him with her blue eyes wide.

He gave a small, half-smile. "I don't know," he acknowledged. "But somewhere that's not here."

"Where's Mommy?" Arwen asked him, playing with the threads on her nightgown. "Where's Uncle Sam?" He closed his eyes, looking down, unable to answer her. "Are they dead?"

For a minute, he just looked at her and then he gave a small nod. "Yes," he whispered. "They are."

Arwen felt tears sliding down her cheeks and she buried her head into his chest, not wanting him to see the tears as he raced across the rooftops, jumping from place to place. And maybe if she were just a little bit older, than maybe she would've understood why he was able to do that. But she was only four and she was filled with grief.

When she finally looked up, he was setting her on the steps of a children's home, shrugging off his jacket and wrapping it around her to keep out the cold.

"Stay here, Arwen," he instructed her. "Go up the stairs and knock on the door. Tell the lady that works here that you don't have anywhere to go. She'll take care of you. Don't give her your real name, it's not safe."

"Wait!" Arwen called after him as he was about to vanished into the night. "What's your name?"

He looked back at her. "Angel," he replied. And then he was gone.