Disclaimer: Witchblade does not belong to me. The characters are full of inspiration, intelligence, and intrigue that I cannot help but borrow them a short while. I heartily enjoy the show and its premise. The events of this story are mine, but the characters are definitely not.
Author's Note: For Mr. Hathaway and b8kworm. I have taken liberties with the legend and lore surrounding the Witchblade, but it was fun to create something half as rich as actuality.
Summary: Destiny brought them together, Fate brought them love, But choice kept them together.
Rating: PG-13
Archive(s): Mine. Anybody else, email me; I like to go visiting.
Pairing(s): Ian/Sara
Spoiler(s): Yes, but they're all over the place and I can't name specific episodes.
***** ***** *****Title: Before Dawn
Author: Adrianna AEternalis
Email: adrianna@darkcorner.com
Chapter 10: The Return
It was an odd reversal of roles: where previously Ian had nothing to root him in New York City, he now had an entire corporation to oversee. Where Sara had emotional ties to the city, she currently traveled the world in search of the remaining members of the White Bulls.
Like cancer spreads, leaving any alive would increase the future's chance of a resurrection and Sara was anything but thorough. She had accepted Ian's offer-slash-demand and left. There was nothing but pain for her in New York City. She was cursed, by turn - to be a traitor as well as a martyr. Praised by the good; slandered by the rest. It was not living when one constantly had to watch one's back.
So she wandered the world, taking care not to leave any indication of her next destination. At first, she maintained awkward communication with Ian through a series of telephone calls and email exchanges. Yet, she mourned the loss of his stalwart presence in her mind.
It was through television broadcasts that she kept tabs on Ian. On camera, his outside appearance was the reassuring calm, cool, collected stoicism. Her nights were filled with glimpses of Ian's torture; even weeks later, he still suffered from her blood. No wonder; there were neither chains of duty nor of Irons to restrain him.
She carefully searched the grainy photos in various international newspapers. His face revealed undiluted pain and unhappiness. It contradicted his voice whenever she called. Worried that she was harming him further with them, she restricted herself to terse emails detailing her progress and expenses.
For a while, she stopped relying on his arrangements and found herself faced with the terrifying fury and concern of the Knight Ian was born to be. Their first conversation since the fiasco at New York City, they reformed their cautious truce: she promised to use his money, thus allowing Ian to track her movements, he wordlessly tolerated Sara's absence in his life.
Weeks later, she accompanied him to the Villa when he undertook Lazar's funeral details. The ceremony was private, short, and poignant. The Knights' Villa along the coast was a misty, magical place and Sara learned more of her predecessors as well as her successors.
Since the Witchblade never extracted more years than necessary from its Wielder, once her destiny was fulfilled, she was free to live the rest of her life at the Villa. The Witchblade and the Knight would find the next Wielder - whoever, wherever, however long it took. Sara tried to feel injustice for the prolonged requirements inflicted upon Ian, but she never saw him so at peace as he was while at the Villa. They parted as acquaintances then.
*****So, why was she flying back to New York City and renting a car to drive herself to a certain beachside bungalow? The answer was as simple as companionship. Residing within that bungalow was the sole individual who understood her and accepted her as is. He loved her.
She learned during her wanderings about the pressing hardship of aloneness, a concept with which Ian was very intimate. She understood, finally, the vast experiences that made him the man he became; she accepted him.
And, somewhere along the nights and days of her hunt and the times she rested at the Villa, she fell in love with him - happily and without fear.
*****Sara stopped the car halfway across town and walked the remaining blocks to the bungalow. Somehow, it seemed appropriate to lack an adequate getaway vehicle.
None of the lights were on, but the windows were clear. Briefly, she wondered if he was sleeping still; not taking a chance to wake him, she rounded the bungalow to wait for him. The beach was the backyard and had a fantastic view of the eastern horizon.
In the faintly dawning light, she saw a lone figure. Tall, striking against the light, graceful as he moved from stance to stance. Sara recognized the flowing movement: Tai Chi. She had an opportunity to learn while traveling and she had grown to cherish those few moments of peaceful solitude. From somewhere inside, the thought of peace carried on to inform her that there was a different aspect to it; she smiled since it appealed to her, too. For a man trained in deadly offense, Tai Chi gave him a soothing avenue to continue the routine he had established since childhood.
Wanting to give him the choice to talk or to ignore, Sara reached out with her mind and just brushed against his. She saw and felt the jaw-dropping surprise he entertained. Wariness was discovered the same way.
His approach was slow as though he tried to simultaneously disregard her yet drawn irresistibly to place one foot before the other in her direction. Sara screamed at her nerves to calm them and used a few favorite expletives directed to the Witchblade.
"Hey, Sara."
Did she imagine amusement or was he really happy with her arrival? One glance into his eyes gave her the courage to finish her voyage home.
Sara engulfed herself in the circle of his arms, savoring the heat she craved during her journeying. She laughed giddily as he linked his mind to hers where she enthusiastically shared her discovery of love. She shared the cherished memory of a warm night, clear skies overhead, stars twinkling expectantly towards her; the night that she had made her choice and began the trip back to Ian.
But not before she etched into the granite of the Villa's foundation her declaration:
Destiny brought them together,Fate brought them love,
But choice kept them together.
FIN
© RK 26.Jan.2004
