Title: Nothing Left of Me...
Author: the weeping willow
Chapter: Letter 1- "I'm Under Your Spell"
Rating: PG-13 for implied nudity, sex, female homosexuality (not really noteworthy since this is Willow and Tara, but I'm putting it anyways), violence, etc.
Spoilers: Up until the end of season 6 (and possibly a bit from the beginning of season 7 later...)
Setting: Summer between seasons 6 and 7.
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy or any related items. Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy do.
Description: Willow writes letters to her (deceased) girlfriend Tara, to try and overcome her grief; at Gile's suggestion.
Distribution: Not without asking. I'd prefer you link back to this please, or get my permission first.
Contact: queenofthebandgeeks@hotmail.com
Author's Notes: Once again I was thinking of Willow and Tara (an obsession of mine, it seems ;)) and it seemed fishy that Willow got over Tara so quickly (if grief over her causes you to try and end the world, don't you think that you'd mourn her a bit?). So I was thinking about that, and my mind eventually led me to this. I'm going to have one letter per chapter, to make it easier on my part. I'd love feedback (even if it's negative)!
Nothing Left of Me...
letter one:
June 17, 2002
Tara,
I miss you, baby. It hurts so much inside, every single day. At night, you aren't there in my arms, and I can't sleep. I take a breath, and I know it's one breath you haven't taken, and it kills me inside! I feel like when you died, I died too. I wish I had. But I'm here without you, and all I can do is cry, cry until I cannot anymore, and then the Earth weeps for me.
I'm in England now. Giles shipped me off here after... after you died. There's this great coven here, and they're working with me. I should be happy and stuff, but they don't think of me as just another witch. They treat me like, I'm dangerous, like I'm going to explode at any moment. It hurts. Giles is trying to help me. I'm trying too, I really am. But life without you isn't a life worth living sometimes.
It was Giles who told me I should write to you. I guess it's kinda silly. Not like you'll read these. Nowhere to send them to, anyways: you don't have an address now (do you?). Once you're dead, I guess reading is kinda hard. Y'know, unless you're a vampire or something. Which, thank the Goddess, you're not.
So, what's the Summerland like? I bet you get to be out all day in these beautiful green meadows. There's a little stream which you like to play by, isn't there? And there's fruit, 'cause even dead people need to eat. And I can see you, dancing, skyclad. You're beautiful, Tara sweetie. And you're happy. I'm weeping with joy, for you, and sorrow, because I can't be with you yet.
I have to go now. They're going to give me another magick lesson. That's all it is nowadays. "Everything's connected, blah blah blah." I loathe it (cool word I learned from Giles- means hate... of course, you probably know it already)! I'll write back soon, once I can escape from their clutches. I love you baby.
Blessed be.
Willow