Defy All Laws—Then Tell Me About It Later
By: Aurorarose13
Xander had waited patiently at Hothgot Square for Buffy to show up… And waited… Until the noon rush to pack up and head home for the afternoon nap out of the unbearable heat. And waited… Until the merchants and crowds returned for the evening shopping. And waited. He had stood in the center of town by himself until Great Grinnen had set and only tiny Railyn was left to barely cast a shadow on the pavement. Boy, he had no idea that Buffy was this mad about his slavery idea. It was just an idea after all. What was the big deal? That didn't mean they had to actually do it.
With a hefty sigh and sagging shoulders, Xander decided to make his way back to the inn with the hopes that Buffy had the sense to get home before dark. Not that the Slayer would have any trouble getting back by herself! Still, this was a strange world they were in.
As he turned at the corner of Hothgot and Yerlin Street, the Scooby saw a flash of blonde cruise past him on the opposite side of the thoroughfare. Buffy! he exclaimed excitedly to himself. With a hop, skip and a jump, Xander had crossed the brick-lined road and bumped smack into a young, tall, pale-skinned man with brilliant blonde hair the color of summer wheat and paralyzing gray eyes like he had never seen. Both men's eyes widened with the sight of one another; they had not expected to see another person that looked like them.
A dozen words in a foreign language tumbled from the man's mouth. Okay, so he wasn't from Earth, but at least there were people on Mystenninna that looked like Xander and Buffy. "Orystinnian," Xander insisted, indicating with hand gestures for the man to speak Orystinnian.
"You're not from around here," the stranger said happily. "But then you are not from Deverry either, are you?"
"Deverry?" Xander asked, completely befuddled.
A musical chuckle, this man had a smile that would melt a million women's hearts. Buffy would love this guy, Xander thought bitterly. Good thing she's not around to meet him. "I thought not. But if you are not from the North, where then, I wonder, are you from?" he implored with a delicate eyebrow arched.
"My name is Xander, and I am not from around here."
"Ah," the man began, "I see. A man that wants not to reveal the details of himself. Well, Xander, that is fine by me, especially in a town that does not take particularly kindly to outsiders. I can appreciate your situation." This man's Orystinnian flowed so smoothly that it seemed as though this was his native language. The inflection, the grammar, the pronunciation were perfect. "I am obviously not from around here either."
"Let me guess," Xander interrupted. "Deverry?"
The stranger smiled magnificently, his eyes lighting up with delight. "Precisely. Say, how would you like to get a goblet of wine at the nearest tavern? We could sit and share fabricated tales of our pasts; I am really quite trained in those," he admitted, attempting to steer Xander further down Yerlin Street.
"That would be nice; however, I have someone waiting for me back at my inn."
"Ah, a lady friend?" he inquired hopefully.
Xander proudly announced, "Why, yes."
"Would you mind if I tagged along? It is best for us to travel in pairs."
"Agreed," the Scooby nodded, thinking of his Slayer. "By the way, may I ask your name?"
There was a pause, and with a sudden flash of popping red light and a hiss of thunder, the man grinned from ear to ear and took a sweeping bow. "I am known in these parts as the Great Krysello, but seeing as you are a man of the North, I will allow you to know my true identity."
"Fantastic," Xander mumbled with muted glee.
"Good sir, my name is Ebañy, but everyone calls me Salamander—a take on a name from my elven heritage. Sal for short, if you will."
"What makes you so great anyway?"
Another proud smile from Salamander, and he shot fire from his fingers. A few onlookers gathered around suddenly, staring mystified at him. "My dweomer."
"Dweomer? What the heck is that?"
"Magic."
"A magician, are you?" We never leave the realm of Sunnydale, do we? Xander grumbled inwardly. "From Deverry? What sort of powers do you have?"
"Power over the wind, the sea, the weather, the earth, the etheric…" When Salamander noticed the perplexed look on his companion's face, he said, "The etheric is a dweomer term. I am sorry to trouble your head about it."
Once he noticed a crowd beginning to gather, the magician directed his newfound friend down the street. "Nevermind that. My turn to ask a question. What in the name of all the Orystinnian gods are you doing here in the City of 1000 Suns and 1000 Pickpockets?"
"Accident," Xander conceded sheepishly.
"May I inquire how?"
Xander pondered it over for a second and decided he didn't even have the vocabulary to tell Salamander the story even if he would understand. "I will not trouble your head about it."
The magician's lips twitched up in the corner for a half-smile. "I am beginning to think ours may be quite the interesting relationship, Xander. My Wyrd is obviously entangled with yours."
"There you go, using that weird language again on me."
"I apologize a thousand times over, but I suspect that Deverrian is not the only weird language for you, Xander." With a positive nod from the Scooby, Salamander continued, "A man's Wyrd is his Fate."
Taking a sharp turn down Brinklinnen Street, Xander deftly maneuvered through a mass of Orystinnians huddled in front of a particularly interesting booth. He wasn't sure what was so amazing, but he didn't have time to care or check. "Very interesting and all," he mumbled, not really paying attention. "Do you mind if we step up the pace a little?"
"Not at all. Anyway, this lady friend, what is her name? Is she Orystinnian?"
"Buffy, and no," answered Xander curtly.
Another amused laugh escaped Salamander's lips, and despite the fact that Xander didn't like the man asking all these personal questions—especially about his Buffy—he couldn't help but at least appreciate the friendliness of the magician. "You are not much for talk with me, are you? I assure you, I am merely looking for another ally here in this city. There are not many you can rely on here, you know."
"That fact has made itself painfully aware to me."
A silence ensued between the pair as the music of the city was more than enough to fill the empty space of conversation. Entertainment acts came out about this time: jugglers, magicians like the Great Krysello, freak shows and performers of all types. Xander recalled several nights ago, standing in the small Trylennia Square with Buffy and watching one man perform incredible feats while walking on his hands. Too bad their talents were a little eccentric even for these people; they could make a great deal of silver here.
As they reached the Wild Boar Inn, Salamander stopped walking, instead frowning distastefully at the place. "You mean to tell me that you are staying in this rat trap?"
"Buffy and I are a little strapped for cash. We have been searching for a job for days now, but the only man willing to hire us will not hire me! He wants my woman, and I am not about to have that," Xander growled, his hands on his hips.
"You remind me of my brother, Rhodry, and his girl, Jill," Salamander laughed. "Well, I guess if we must go inside and check for your Buffy…"
"You can wait outside if this is too much for you," the Scooby said sarcastically. Salamander met his challenge and boldly followed Xander inside.
The lobby of the Wild Boar was hardly anything to gawk at. There was a pine bench and some scattered straw on the floor. At the innkeeper's desk, which was nothing but a long, plain table, were some pieces of bark used for tallying guests and a greasy, wooden menu for the dingy bar annexed to the lobby. Salamander cringed visibly as his eyes scanned the scenery. "My room is upstairs," Xander informed, leading his companion up the creaking steps to the tiny hallway above, which had but four rooms.
They entered the second room on the right, Xander opening the door and shouting in English, "Honey! I'm home!" As the door widened to show him all of the minute, stark bedroom, he became aware of the fact that it was empty—even more so than usual. Buffy was not there. Xander scratched nervously at his shoulder, muttering in English, "Something's not right…"
"What is up?" Salamander questioned, picking up the curious vibe. "No one home?"
"Even with the fight we had today," Xander began, "she should have cooled off by now. I do not know where she could be. This is not like her."
"Maybe someone got a hold of her."
Xander shook his head. "No, Buff can take care of herself. If I am sure of one thing, that is it. The only ways someone could have taken her down would be either ambush or drugs."
"Tough lady, yes?" There was a definite affirmation on that from the young human. "I like them feisty." Xander gave him a poisonous look. "Just kidding. Well, maybe we should start searching for her before the market closes. What does Buffy look like?"
"She will be the only pale-skinned girl out there. Trust me."
Salamander shrugged. "Easy enough."
@~~`~~~
The magician and the Slayerette met up ten o'clock as agreed in the center of town at Briggin Square, one man's face plummeting and the other's lit by a grand smile. Xander's eyes lifted to see the pleased countenance on Salamander's face, and his heart became hopeful. "Find something?" he asked eagerly.
"I believe I found your lady." Then Sal's face fell a little. "But I have a bit of news about this."
"I do not care!" Xander shouted, shoving the half-elven man out of his way. "Where is she?"
"At the corner of Neergotin and Hothgot."
Xander knew that area well; Melethinain worked there. Maybe Buffy was all right after all. She was with Mel and probably lost track of time. She was safe. She was whole. She would be his again! Xander raced toward the intersection, only vaguely aware of the fact that Salamander was chasing after him and screaming his name. Once he got Buffy back, the two of them could finally get a little something to eat; his stomach was growling viciously.
As he drew near the corner, he heard shouts, gasps and cheers. Something big was going on. Maybe he, Buffy and Sal could check it out before heading home. Running up the center of the street, Xander became aware that the vendors' booths were void of all people. This whole end of Neergotin was empty. Up ahead, toward the square, lights flashed, torches gleamed and voices sang. She's up there! he thought happily.
He broke through the crowd, to the center of the action to glare in horror at the sight ahead of him.
"Come one, come all! I, Melethinain the Majestic, invite you to witness the acts of the amazing Barbarian Princess from the North!" Mel tugged on a chain, and Buffy leaped onto the stage, a gold collar fastened tightly around her neck.
"Look at this golden hair. Nowhere else in Orystinna will you find such a rich color!" Buffy flicked her hair over her shoulder, revealing its gloss and softness. "And marvel at this white skin! How unnatural yet tantalizing. For only three silver pieces each, I invite you to kiss this skin. See how it smells of honey and jasper. Be amazed that she tastes of sugar." The merchant leaned in for a deep kiss on Buffy's mouth, and much to Xander's surprise and abhorrence, she put a hand to his chin and drew him in deeper and closer. Mel drew back, licking his lips and sighing contentedly. "Sugar, I say! Have a taste yourself!" The 'Barbarian Princess' offered her hand to the audience, instantly sending a shower of silver from the menfolk onto the stage. A rain of eager lips fell onto her hand, the men pulling away and gasping at their experience.
Salamander put a hand on Xander's shoulder, which he quickly flung away. A fiery rage was building inside his stomach, and it burned like an ulcer. He heard himself snorting like a bull about to charge. His eyes narrowed on Mel, and he barreled up onto the stage. Quickly, however, the Scooby was dropkicked off, sailing through the air to land on his back, staring confusedly upwards. Salamander dutifully helped him up in time for Xander to pull together what had just happened. Buffy had punched him in the stomach and placed a kick in his gut all before he had even reached Melethinain. Now, she was up there, arms wrapped protectively around the merchant and cooing sweet words into his ears. "The hell, you say!" Xander exclaimed, gawking in disbelief.
"I tried to tell you," Salamander began, helping Xander dust off, "Buffy has been ensorcelled."
"Oh, please," Xander groaned, his eyes fixed on the stage, "not more dweomer for today."
The magician tried to give a reassuring smile. "At least you are picking up the lingo."
THE END