Disclaimer: I own nothing. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling & BtVS belongs to Joss Whedon.
Warnings/Spoilers: Somewhat graphic cannon character death.
A/N: Reviews are Good. This has been a subtle hint from the author - Please return to your regularly scheduled reading.
chapter three: fill the open spaces
10 months before the attack
It is peaceful in the greenhouse Xander has built for her, they are both calmed by the feel of the plantlife to their senses - the Song of the Green, as the God King calls it and Willow must agree that it is fitting. At first, she almost expected that their daily work here would become tense or contentious but it never has. Hard, yes - sometimes terribly disappointing and melancholy but that is only natural, given what they are doing, and neither really needs to speak these emotions, can feel (or taste in Illyria's case) them in the air.
Perhaps that is why the unbroken quiet is not unbearable - because it is not truly silence, the are simply not speaking with words. Willow grew up feeling she had to fill the open spaces left (where uncaring parents and dead friends should be) with her babble, but the spaces here are already filled with the contented murmur around her of leaves sunning themselves, slowly - ever so slowly - turning to get more light. It is honestly a relief not to have to speak.
But it was from talking to Spike and Angel before they left and seeing how she has reacted to others here at the New Watcher's Council, that Willow knows Illyria is different with her than the others. She is not sure if it is because of their common goal or simply a recognition of her power (is pretty sure it is the power thing, a being that prefers to be called by their title seems the type to honor strength above little else).
She does know that the God-King relaxes with her in this refuge of hers' on the grounds, a cocoon of glass windows, trapped warmth, her own magic and simply pure growing things. There is an odd amount of trust this shows, and she does not take it lightly.
Then again, the other Scoobies are not exactly against her, against them, in this project of theirs. There is a great deal of anger at Giles at the moment over leaving Fred to her fate the way he did over his old hurts with Angel (over never telling Willow to even give her a choice). They understand not being able to let go of certain hurts that are close to your heart but to knowingly allow another to be harmed as collateral damage? That is where there anger sits hard and heavy - honestly where the majority of their support comes from, in opposition to that wrong already done by one of their own.
Willing to back her in almost anything that might help fix this. What she does not say is that it cannot be truly fixed - knows that is already something they are all well aware of. They have been dealing in souls since they were in High School, after all. Buffy's hazel eyes in particular are much too troubled, much too old - too haunted - for her still young face when they talk of Fred's condition and what she will attempt to do.
And it is true, she is used to working with souls - but Angel's little curse was simple compared to this. Such intricate work of holding each little scrap in the equivalent to a bubble of her magic - making sure no part of her brushes against it during this process. For it is so delicate, it's edges so hazy and indistinct, that her power might accidentally bleed into in some way, that these bits of Fred would become FredWillowEarth.
Because, Willow too, was not truly just herself alone anymore, had not been since that day on a hill in Sunnydale when the world did not end, was solidified as such a being when she asked a group of young women if they wanted to be strong.
Goddess a part of her deep down whispers and she ignores it with long practice. Is not sure when she will be ready to listen to it. (Is distantly terrified that she can wait as long as she needs - that it has far more patience than she could ever dream too. And it will wait for her. That she has plenty of time now - time until the very Earth stops spinning.)
And first she must find them. She takes her time as she collects each piece while the God-King sits still in front of her cross legged form with inhuman stillness, back straight and eyes always open - and she has gotten used to the bright blue stare after weeks of their work together. It is always a slow slow search in the seemingly vast expanse of metaphysical universe she has come to recognize as Illyria until she finds a pulse of Fred amongst it (clutching on to existence, human and determined and alive alive alive. I'm still here. I'm alive; please please don't leave me alone in the dark) - it jumps into space right above her cupped hand, blinking feeble hazy golden light like a flashlight about to go out before returning to the other beings armored chest as she brings it together to join the whole - or what she is attempting to form as a whole.
The space is walled off for now inside of Illyria because these parts of Fred are not yet (might never be, she worries) strong enough to support itself within an Orb of Thelusa. Neither have mentioned this though, both just agree that it is safer, with Illyria to act as guard for the steadily growing glow of Fred, to not chance her being destroyed in an outside vessel.
There is another problem though, that as she has continued to gently collect these shards of soul, she has come to the sad conclusion that there is simply not enough left to form a complete whole of all Fred - large parts have either blended with the God-King or twirled so tightly around her essence of blue power that to untangle them would be painful, lose something on both sides.
So, with a sigh, Willow moves on whenever she encounters these spots, must leave these aspects that connect the two. That will keep them always intertwined on this level of soul and magics she believes, honestly. And the witch does not know how that will affect human and God-King in the long run. The pluses and the minuses, the abilities and weaknesses, are things they are going to have to work out together or be blindsided by when they pop up eventually.
There is also the fact that some parts, Willow is afraid have been destroyed beyond her ability to fix - to even find traces of. Because even though Fred wasn't burnt up in the God-King's resurrection, like Angel's team had been told by Wolf, Ram & Hart, her soul had been shattered by it.
(Spun glass dropped from a great height upon a marble floor. Sharp glittering shards showering out into a great vast - seemingly eternity of - blue.)
So, the pieces are still mostly here but they are all small - often very small - pieces.
And she is only hoping that time will allow Fred's soul to heal what she cannot mend with her inexpert piecing together - she knows that this is possible in small matters but is not sure if it can work with such extensive gaping wounds, holes in her very being, that Fred will have even when she is done. But Willow simply does not know what else to do.
(She does know that she can not just let her die, let her pass on to whatever afterlife awaits - because every single scrap of the scientist's soul that is able to practically screams it's wish to survive.)