Dweomer Makes the Heart Grow Fonder—If You're Insane
By: Aurorarose13
"I
do not give a damn about the lingo, Salamander!" Xander raged, quaking with his
own fury. Here, Buffy had just beat his sorry ass off the stage and left him
sprawled in the crowd to comfort her shaken master. How could this have
happened? It wasn't fair! This kind of crap was regular for Xander Harris in
Sunnydale, but he had assumed he had at least escaped that fate in another
world. 'That's the problem, son. Assume makes an ass out of you and me,' his
father had once told him. "And what the hell is 'ensorcelled' anyway?"
The
wizard laughed despite the grim view of things. His way of making light of his
surroundings even in the most humorless situations was almost infuriating.
"Basically, it means this Melethinain the Majestic has hired someone to take
control of your Buffy's mind and aura, forcing her to believe in and serve
Mel."
"So
he has… uh… washed her brain?" the Slayerette asked, trying to figure out a way
to get his point across. It was obvious he had failed, however, because
Salamander simply stood there with arched eyebrows and a twisted mouth; he
didn't understand the expression.
"This
guy has made her believe and feel the way he wanted her to by using magic to
make Buffy his slave." Xander growled viciously in his throat. The slimy
bastard! He'd never liked him to begin with. Now, how was he to get Buffy back?
Xander's growl turned into a whimper, and Salamander rested a hand on his
shoulder. "Do not worry, you have the assistance of the best wizard in all of
Bardek, probably in all of Annwn! Okay, so that is not entirely true, but I am
pretty amazing. Why, one time while I was in mainland Bardek, Jill and I had
to—"
Xander
nearly jumped ten feet in the air. That's right! If a wizard had put this spell
on Buffy, it was only logical that another wizard could take it off. "You mean
you can fix Buffy?"
The
air grew a little stale despite the fact that there was an electrically charged
crowd of Orystinnians surrounding him. Salamander cleared his throat before
answering, "This will take some finesse, dear Xander. You see, I need to find
the dweomermaster that ensorcelled Buffy in the first place, and then I have to
see what method he used and have him undo it. Really, it is all in the hands of
the man that did this."
"Hold
on one moment here. I thought Mel was the one who did this. Why is it that he
does not undo this?" the human boy questioned, stumbling horribly over his
phrasing.
"Looking
at this man, I can tell instantly that he has not the talent for the dweomer
nor the patience."
"Not
that you are any better, Salamander," Xander chided.
"What
a nasty tongue you have, Xander! You cut me deeply!
"At
any rate, his only choice to ensorcel Buffy was to enlist the help of dweomermaster
here in Orystinna. With luck, he may have assumed that you were to ignorant to
Orystinna and hired from this very city. If that is the case, then we will have
a breeze finding him." With the mention of the word 'assume,' Sal's distressed
companion hung his head low, already seeming to give up. "Come on, Xander! I
said you are working with the best wizard in all of Bardek. It is your good
fortune that you found me at all. Our Wyrds are tied, truly. Believe me when I
say that I am no novice! In fact, this type of situation has happened to me
once before, only on a more dramatic scale."
Xander's
head shot up, his eyes wide with anger. His gaze flicked back and forth between
the stage and Salamander. He shivered, not from the night chill that laced the
air, but from his sheer rage. "You do not consider this dramatic?"
"Well,
truly, I suppose it presents a problem."
"Problem?
Problem!" he screamed at the top of his lungs, drawing even more attention to
himself and Sal. "This is a travesty! You have to fix this."
Salamander
considered, resting his chin in his hand. Glancing up to see Buffy fire a look
of hatred at Xander, the wizard quickly decided his best course of action. "It
is definitely a development. Ah, by the hells, I could hail a friend here! Why,
perfect!"
Sal's
excitement at his idea soothed Xander's nerves some, but not much. "If he is
anything like the 'friends' we have here already, I do not want him."
"Elaeno
is trustworthy, truly, and quite skilled in the dweomer arts himself. He is a
native to Orystinna, so he could be a valuable asset. He is just what we need
to solve this case… other than Buffy's memories of her attacker, of course."
Salamander seemed to light up like a Christmas tree, his eyes aglow with a plan
and his smile flashing like a lighthouse beacon.
Already
Xander was having second thoughts about this plan… But one look up at that
stage, at his newfound girlfriend parading herself around like a prized tiger,
and all his doubts faded. He was willing to do anything to get Buffy back even
if it meant falling into this dweomer garbage. "So what do we need to do?"
The
wizard, obviously ecstatic at the thought of using his precious craft, clapped
his hands and motioned away from the gathering of people. "Say goodnight to your
sweetheart—just for tonight—and then we can go back to my hotel and discuss
this; by the black hairy ass of the lord of hell, I am not stepping one foot
into the Wild Boar again!"
"You
are a… a… uh, what is the word for someone who will not stay anywhere unless it
is top of the line?" Sal stared at him confusedly. "It is a negative word… Help
me out here, Sal!"
"Uh,
nimroko?"
Xander
shrugged. "Sure, yeah. That will do."
Glaring
at the blonde princess on the stage, Salamander pushed Xander toward her.
"Hurry up and say night night, would you? We have much work to do!" Xander
tried to hesitate, but he was nearly on top of the platform again before he
could stop his momentum.
He
looked up to see his ex staring him down with her poisonous eyes. Even with her
rage burning in those green depths, she seemed alive and beautiful. Her hair
cascaded over her shoulders, framing her glorious face. Buffy grimaced at
Xander, as though the thought of him should be accompanied with the word
disease. He reached for her hand to kiss it goodnight. "You have to pay. Three
silvers please," she spat, turning over her hand to accept the money.
"I
only have one," Xander admitted, looking pitifully at her. She frowned deeply,
as though she had expected no less. But, friend that he seemed to be,
Salamander stepped up from behind and offered Xander two more. "Check that.
Here you go. And one kiss please." He held out the change to Buffy.
Hand
still cupped, she drew it back, slapping him cruelly across the face. A fierce
pop exploded through the chill air. "Not for all the silver in the world. Let
me know when he drops dead," Buffy snarled to Sal and stampeded angrily off
stage. Mel was the only one left, and there he stood, hands firmly on hips and
triumphant smirk across his cheeks. Soon, he, too, followed Buffy the Barbarian
Princess of the North, his gem, his love and his slave.
Standing
completely still, crimson blotch streaking under his left eye, Xander remained.
The throbbing welt puffed angrily, and it was so pronounced that Salamander
suggested he get it examined by someone called a chirugeon. Xander was too lost
and too deaf to pay attention.
Around
him and at his feet lay the thousand fractures of his broken heart. Buffy had
left him standing branded and alone in this foreign world that Salamander had
once mentioned as Annwn. She wanted nothing to do with him. There wasn't a part
of her that remembered or cared who he was. All those memories, the times, the
adventures… the kisses they'd shared. Gone. In the blink of an eye. In the
thump of a heartbeat. Gone forever.
All
the way back to Salamander's posh hotel—the Trylennia Inn—the dweomermaster
tried to explain that Buffy's memories weren't erased, merely held hostage.
Ensorcellment wasn't the end of the world—far from it. Find the man who did
this, and "righting the wrong is as simple as making Bardek sweet cakes."
Xander just hoped that was easy, for what the hell was a Bardek sweet cake?
@~~`~~~
"I'm
trusting you, Sal," Xander said as the pair walked down Yerlin Street to meet
with the man named Elaeno. "Without Buffy, I'm all alone here in this world."
Then, under his breath: "In any world."
The
ever-optimistic elf smiled brightly and clamped his hand on Xander's shoulder.
"You need not fear with my help, Xander! I have a full-proof plan. You see, if
we are going to make it through Orystinna safely, we need some sort of disguise
and reason to be here. I was thinking I could continue assuming my role as the
great and mysterious Krysello, Barbarian Wizard from the Far North—the man who
uses no strings or powders to perform his works of magic." Xander looked at him
skeptically as they passed several other tall, dark men looking equally
confused. "You see, you could be my barbarian assistant, Xander, the handsome man
with no past. You will draw in the women by the hundreds."
"Really?
You think so?" the Slayerette chirped, mighty pleased with himself. "Wait, what
am I saying? This will not work! We do not have time for all this masquerading
stuff. We will lose track of Buffy and never save her."
There
was that infuriating grin again. "Naught of the sort, friend of mine. We must
endure this necessary evil should we elect to stay in the comfortable settings
of the Trylennia. Besides, we need to fund our explorations somehow." His logic
was infallible. "Anyway, I have been in almost this same situation before. How
do you think I got the alias? Trust me; it will work."
"As
long as we get Buffy back."
"Ah,
truly, Xander, your situation aches my heart. But I promise it will work out."
Xander
sighed in concession and continued trudging toward Briggin Square. Through the
throngs of the morning shoppers, his eyes scanned for just one flash of golden
hair. He hoped against hope that he could find Buffy, but this morning it was
not meant to be. All he saw was gray and black hair crowning the heads of every
single man and woman surrounding him. They loomed above him by a foot or more;
it was like being in a forest of sequoias searching for a sapling.
Finally,
Briggin Square was straight ahead of them, alive and bustling with the early
morning performers: mainly storytellers and jugglers; Salamander said that the
magicians came out at night for the full effect. "There he is!" Salamander
shouted happily, throwing his hands in the air. "Elaeno, you scoundrel!" Xander
had no idea which man was Elaeno, for the Orystinnians all dressed and acted
alike.
"Salamander,
you chattering elf!" an extremely tall—over seven feet—Orystinnian man fired
back, stepping proudly out of the mass of people and nearly running toward
them. He grabbed Sal's hand, firmly gripped it and spoke in the language Xander
supposed to be Deverrian, "How the hell are you? Still in the dweomer?" At the
mention of the word, Xander's ears perked up.
"But
of course. What else would I do with myself? You know how I am, always one for
the special effects."
Elaeno
nodded his head affirmatively, a knowing grin plastered to his handsome, strong
facial features. His green eyes darted over to the white man standing behind
him. Xander glanced nervously at the looming monster. "Who's your friend? His
aura is strange."
Switching
to Orystinnian, "This is Xander, and he does not speak Deverrian."
"Well,
he certainly does not look elvish or dwarvish, not to mention, he is not melting
in the Bardek sun, so if he is not of Deverry blood" he said, turning his head
to stare Xander straight in the eyes, "where are you from?"
Xander
shifted uncomfortably under the huge man's glare. "California." It was only
after he had said it that he realized his folly.
"Now,
I have never heard of 'California' before. Where is that exactly?"
"To
the north," he stuttered, looking to Sal for help, who offered nothing but a
blank look.
"North
of Cengarn?" Xander wasn't sure what to say, so he simply nodded yes. "North of
Lin Serr?" Another yes. "By the hells, man, you live that deep in the
mountains?"
"That
I do."
"Hah!
You may as well be dwarf! But how can you be so used to this heat. It is as if
it does not bother you." The Slayerette merely shrugged. "I have been to
Cerrgonney once, myself, in the dead of summer, and yet still I froze. I needed
three layers of cloaks just to keep at a decent temperature. And you barely
crack a sweat down here."
"What
can I say other than it is warmer than you think." The three looked back and
forth amongst each other, unsure of what to make of this development.
Elaeno
seemed satisfied enough with the unusual answer, however, and decided to drop
the subject. "So, Sal, would you like to let me in on this situation. When you
scried me out last night—"
"Scry?"
Xander interrupted.
The
Great Krysello bowed his head in embarrassment. "Excuse my ignorance. I forget
that you don't know all of these dweomer terms, Xander. Scrying is a way for
dweomermasters to communicate over distance. You picture them in your head, and
their images pop up before you, allowing you to talk sometimes. However, I
could not tell Elaeno of our woeful tale because there may have been others on
the etheric."
"Etheric?"
he questioned exasperatedly. Before Salamander could respond, Xander shook his
head. "Nevermind, I do not want to know."
"Simply
put, we could have been spied upon. I prefer face-to-face; it is safer this
way.
"Now,
Elaeno, my friend, I have much of a tale to tell you." Salamander proceeded to
explain, with much embellishment and many frills, the whole story of how he had
met Xander and how their Wyrds had interlocked. He elaborately wove the saga of
how Buffy had been ensorcelled and forgotten her love. Finally, by the time he had
finished, Salamander was nearly out of breath but grinning from ear to ear with
excitement.
Elaeno
handed a silver piece mockingly to Sal. "You certainly make one hell of a
gerthddyn, Salamander—eh," he added, noticing that 'lost' look in Xander's
eyes, "storyteller. At any rate, your story aches my heart, Xander."
"What
is it with you people and that phrase?" he cried, raising his hands in defeat.
The
elf laughed musically again. "You are from the north, and yet you have no idea
of the language or culture there or even the idioms we use. This amazes me."
"Yes,
well, I am quite amazing."
No
one had anything to say to that. There was a moment of silence before
Salamander directed them off of the main square and down onto a quieter
alleyway. The three of them huddled close together, an odd assortment,
especially with the towering Orystinnian bending down to their eye levels. "Oh,
we are not conspicuous or anything," Xander muttered in his familiar sarcasm.
Ignoring
the human, Salamander delved right into the problem at hand. "All right, now
that I have broken down the problem, how do you think we should tackle this,
Elaeno?"
The
large man considered for a moment. He closed his eyes and bit his bottom lip.
"It is too bad Nevyn is across the ocean; he would be of great help. Ah, by the
hells! Perhaps it is best that we stay off of the etheric for the next several
days. In the meantime, it will just have to be good old fashioned
investigation." Salamander nodded in agreement while Xander only shrugged. "Oh,
and maybe someone should have a conversation with Buffy. Not Xander, so one of
us."
"Why
not me?" Xander exclaimed in a hurt voice. "She is my girlfriend after all."
"Not
at the moment, she is not. She hates your guts." Though hearing those words
hurt almost as much as admitting it to himself, Xander relented and handed over
the task. "I elect Sal. He is the best with words anyway. Buffy will not be
able to resist his charm."
"She
had better!" growled Xander, staring down the suddenly flustered barbarian
wizard.
With
a nervous chuckle, Salamander accepted the job. During the next few days, the boys would split up
and search for clues, anything that would track down the dweomermaster who had
done this. That very night Sal was planning on confronting Buffy, praying that
she wouldn't remember seeing him with Xander at last evening's fiasco.
As
they concluded their plans, the team separated, each heading in an opposite
direction as though they had never held the meeting. Xander and Salamander
agreed to meet up when the first moon had risen in the sky for their first
show. Sal vowed to show him the dweomer ropes if it killed him. Xander walked
away, thinking to himself that maybe this was now at the top of his list of
stupidest things he'd ever done. When Buffy came back, he knew she'd never let
him live this one down.
THE
END
