Title: A Rogue's Heart – Part 8, Chapter 4
Author: Wicked Raygun
Summary: For Xander Harris, the Hero of Ferelden, sacrifice is only the beginning. He ends the Blight, only to return to the home he no longer has a place in. Xander/Leliana.
Disclaimer: Based on characters created by Joss Whedon, and Bioware. I am merely borrowing them to put on a puppet show. Watch them dance.
Notes: This story is mostly a series of character pieces with sporadic action thrown in for variety. There's no real plan for this. I'll post chapters as they come to me. I'll be referring to events in the Dragon Age: Origins video game using Interludes. Chapters will actually continue the story forward.
Spoilers: And how! Events take place in the summer after season 3 of BTVS, moving into season 4. And all the events of Dragon Age: Origins, possibly including the various DLC are up for grabs. If you aren't familiar with Dragon Age, then lower your head in shame. Go on. Lower it.
Distribution: Ask and you shall receive. Just email me and I'll get back to you quickly using new-fangled technology. See, I get email on my phone now. Surely jet packs and flying cars are just around the corner.
A Rogue's Heart
Part 8, Chapter 4 – My Summer Vacation
Giles was panicking. How could he not be? He just got a phone call from Olivia, saying she would be in California for a couple of weeks, and she wanted to know if she could stay with him. And he could be mistaken, but that tone in her voice when she asked – well, perhaps he was reading something into it that wasn't there. But if he wasn't, then it was likely to be a very enjoyable few weeks indeed.
They had dated back in England, of course. But then he had been chosen to become Buffy's Watcher and was forced to end it. Part of him wanted to continue their relationship, even with the distance, but everything about them had been so new back then, and they were both mature enough to know that would have been folly. Still, they had ended things on relatively good terms.
And now she was coming here – in two days. Good Lord, there was so much to do!
He wiped a bead of sweat from his brow and continued applying the cleanser onto the stove top. How on Earth did the bloody thing get so dirty in the first place? He rarely used it for anything other than tea and instant soup.
And that brought to mind the issue of food, in that, he didn't have any. That meant that a trip to the market was in order, and he hated that sort of thing. Giles sighed. Even he was painfully aware that he was such a bachelor.
The doorbell rang.
Giles cursed and started washing his hands, trying to take off the remnants of the powerfully smelling cleanser that he was now fairly sure shouldn't get on the skin in the first place, if that slight burning sensation was any sort of clue.
The doorbell rang again.
"Yes, yes, just a moment!" he shouted back. He hurriedly dried his hands and made it to his door. If this was that damned land lady again, he could not be held responsible for his actions. Miserable shrew should learn to mind her own business.
He opened the front door and found a tall man with dark hair, a goatee, and a large ear-to-ear smile plastered on his face.
"Yes, can I help – Xander?"
Xander said nothing. But it seemed that somehow his smile got even bigger.
"Uh, is something wrong?"
Xander just kept smiling.
Giles noticed something. "Are you – are you crying?"
Xander laughed with a shaky voice. "No, no. I'm good. I just – it's really good to see you." His voice started to crack at the last word.
Giles motioned for him to come inside. After Xander walked in, he closed the door.
"Is something wrong?"
"No, I'm fine. There's nothing – okay that's a big fat lie. There's a lot wrong, but I don't care about that right now." Xander took a deep breath before he continued.
"Giles, you are never going to guess what I did on my summer vacation."
Giles knocked back the glass of expensive brandy, welcoming the warm burn in his throat and stomach. He had been saving it for a special occasion, but since he didn't really have any other alcohol in the house this would have to do.
"Uh, Giles?"
Giles held up a finger, motioning Xander to give him a moment. He poured himself another glass, and downed that as well.
"Okay, this impression of my dad is real impressive and everything, but I was kind of hoping that I could talk to you sober."
Giles took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. And then finally, he spoke.
"You died."
It wasn't a question, but Xander treated it as one. "Yeah. But I got better."
Giles glared at him and poured himself another drink. Instead of downing this one, he returned to his chair, and sat down.
"You died," he said quietly to himself.
"You're not getting past that anytime soon are you?"
"Damn it, Xander! Can't you take this seriously?"
Giles could not believe Xander was being so blasé about this. He had died. Didn't he understand what that meant? They had lost him, for however brief a time. Giles leaned his head back on the cushioned chair.
It was just like what happened with the Master. Only this time, there was no warning. A random vampire attack and he had simply died. He hadn't even been in Sunnydale at the time. How much time would have passed before they even knew that something had gone wrong?
Xander stared at him, taking in his distress.
"It's a lot to take in. I get it," Xander said calmly. "But believe me, I took it very seriously." His voice dropped low, a note of pain in every word. He shook his head. "I didn't think I'd get to see you guys again."
Giles took a moment to compose himself. "So, you died, and then went to some other dimension? Was it some sort of hell dimension?"
"Not exactly. It was a place called Thedas. It was kind of nice, except for the rampaging evil and rampant social injustice – kind of like L.A., I guess."
"Thedas?" Giles looked thoughtful. "No, I can't say it rings any bells. And the few books I have on other dimensions tend to focus on hells, seeing as how those worlds are the most likely to breach the divide. Can you tell me more about this Thedas?"
"Sure, I can give you the dime tour. But you're going to have to realize that a lot of what I'm going to say is pretty, well, out there, even for us. Remember that rampaging evil, I mentioned? You ever heard of something called Darkspawn?"
Giles searched his memory, but couldn't find anything. "Can't say that I have, at least, not by name."
"Genlocks? Hurlocks?"
Again Giles shook his head, but then he reached for a pad and pen and started to write things down.
Xander sighed. This next part, likely wouldn't go over well. "Okay, how about elves and dwarves?"
Giles gave him a look. "There are no such beings in this world, outside of Tolkien books anyway. Some theories suggest that these legends may have been inspired by various demonic entities. For example, there are many types of subterranean demons, any one of which could have inspired the idea for dwarves. And traditionally elves are seen as pranksters. In pre-Tolkien stories they generally range from being merely mischievous, to being outright evil. Again, any number of demons could have inspired that."
"You keep mentioning Tolkien. That's the 'Lord of the Rings' guy, right? What's he got to do with this?"
"Well, the modern concept of elves is primarily due to Tolkien. Before that they were basically depicted as fairies – wings and all."
"Like Tinkerbell?"
Giles sighed. "Yes, like Tinkerbell."
"Okay, well Thedas has actual elves. And, no, they don't got wings."
Giles blinked a few times, and then sipped his brandy. "I suppose we could look into it. Elves, amazing," he said, scoffing at the absurdity of the whole notion.
"I don't think researching elves is a top priority here. I'm really more concerned about my Quantum Leaping every time I die. I really want to know how that keeps happening."
"Dimensional magic is really not my forte, Xander. I can look a few things up, possibly call in a few markers from people I know back at the Council, but I can't say I've heard of anything even remotely resembling what you went through. As far as I understand it, when someone or something gets pulled into another world, it happens on a physical level. A portal opens up, and one steps through to the other side, not unlike a door.
"Now, what you went through was more of an ascension. You cast aside your mortal shell, only to wake up with a new one somewhere else. It's remarkable, and possibly unprecedented. I'm not sure we'll ever know more than that."
Xander's head lowered slightly, avoiding Giles gaze. "Oh."
Giles noticed his shift in mood. "Are you disappointed?" Before Xander could answer, Giles asked him, "Oh, bloody hell, you're not trying to go back, are you?"
Xander's eyes widened. "What? Me? Back? Why would you ask—" Xander sighed, before answering seriously. "I don't know. Maybe."
"What could possibly make you want to go back?" Realization hit, and Giles rolled his eyes. "There's a girl," he said frustrated, right before knocking back the rest of the brandy.
Xander shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Well, it's not just that," he said, in a guilty tone. "I, uh, have something to tell you. And it's a doozy."
"What more could you possibly say that could surprise me?"
Xander winced. "You might wanna grab more liquor."
It was at that point that Xander went through the whole concept of Grey Wardens, including the part about the Joining.
Thankfully, a beautifully timed phone call from Giles' landlady, complaining about the noise, got him to stop yelling about how reckless and irresponsible he was.
Xander watched as Giles furiously went through his books looking up everything he had told him about Thedas, the Wardens, and Darkspawn, which in retrospect wasn't a whole lot really.
On the subject of Darkspawn alone, Grey Wardens knew very little. A lot of the lore was myth or merely speculation. Who knew how much was actually true. Even how they reproduced wasn't really a documented fact.
Yes, Xander had fought a Brood Mother – or at least what Hespith had called a Brood Mother – but who was to say that's how they really spawned each other? Alistair had never heard of the expression before, and Hespith was all pumped-up on crazy juice when they found her. Hell, she had been down there for years, plenty of time to make up creepy, nonsensical poetry.
Once again, Xander wished he had the ability to line up all the Grey Wardens in a row so he could pimp-slap the lot of them upside the head in one go.
Secrets. Always secrets.
It was the entire reason Loghain was able to get as far as he did with his extremely badly-timed rebellion. Everyone may have respected the Wardens in Ferelden, but very few actually trusted them. All it took was the right paranoid freak at the wrong time and with just enough political ambition, and presto! Everybody's screwed!
Xander sighed as he turned a yellow page on a very old book written in what Giles had assured him was some form of Hebrew. He was supposed to be looking for references to golems so he could hand it to Giles.
Why, oh, why, did he have to mention Shale?
He laid the book down on the table and stood up, rubbing his temples. When Giles had angrily shoved the book into his hands, Xander didn't have the heart to tell him that he had no idea how to read Hebrew. So for the last hour he had just been turning the pages slowly, pretending to be reading, while Giles would sit there occasionally glaring at Xander and muttering angrily to himself.
No two ways about it, Giles was pissed.
It was just the two of them for the moment. Giles had nearly called in the rest of the gang to help with the research, but Xander had begged him not too. As much as he was aching to see Willow and Buffy again, he wasn't sure how much of his out-of-body experiences he wanted to share with them. As a matter of fact, his first instinct was to not tell them anything at all.
Of course Giles had quickly told him how stupid that idea was. Instead they compromised. They wouldn't tell the gang anything for the next couple of weeks, while Xander settled on how much he wanted them to know. If there was one thing he learned from his botched reveal to Giles, it was that he really sucked at giving summaries. So the extra time would help him to refine his story-telling abilities, something that he really should be better at by now.
Xander made his way to a corner of Giles' living room where he kept some of his weapons. He rummaged through them a bit and found to his surprise a very short sword. He racked his brain for a moment because he recognized it from some gladiator movies he had seen as a kid. He was pretty sure it was called a gladius.
He hefted the weapon, turning it one way, and then the other. Playfully, he tossed it in the air, spinning the blade so it landed again in his hand. It was a little bit longer than his old Ferelden daggers, but not by too much. The weight was comparable as well. A little training and he was sure he could compensate for the differences.
Xander went through the case, searching for another gladius, but it was a vain hope. Still, this wasn't too bad. He grabbed a long, heavy stake and put it in his left hand, while the sword remained in his right.
Getting some space for himself, he started a complicated exercise, where he weaved both of his hands in a complex pattern that constantly shifted from defensive to offensive. It was a technique meant to confuse your opponent while you maneuvered yourself for an opening.
But it wasn't feeling right. His left was too fast, while his right felt too slow. He kept at it though, trying to feel out the rhythm. He slowed his stake hand and sped up his sword hand, trying to compensate.
He tried the exercise again. Still not right. Another adjustment, and then he tried it again. No, still awkward. And then again. Damn it!
He tried one more time.
Bingo! He found it.
He kept at it, but now his pace increased ever so slightly every time he completed the exercise. It was working, so he kept going, his hands moving faster and faster. Feeling confident that he at least had the rhythm right, Xander started to circle an imaginary opponent. His weapons stabbed, prodded, and sliced as he dove deeper into the exercise, even adding an occasional feint for good measure.
With a spin that would have surely placed him in position for a backstab, Xander completed the exercise. Playfully, he spun the sword in his hand, admiring the feel. He was going to need lots of practice, sure, but he could already see the possibilities.
It was then he noticed Giles staring at him in open-mouth wonder.
"Hey!" he said excitedly in a tone similar to that of five year old opening a particularly cool Christmas present. "Can I keep this?"
Saying nothing, Giles stood up, reaching for the last of the brandy.
"Was that a 'no'?"
End of Chapter 4
