Part 8: The Druids

One and a half weeks later, Buffy and Angel were sparring in the library, when a group of five men and women -- talking with Irish accents -- came in. They fell silent at the sight of the vampire and Slayer.

A moment later, Buffy and Angel stopped, and looked over as Darkmoon stood in front of the latest arrivals. All heard, as he said, "Took you guys long enough."

"We are sorry, Familiar," a man in the group said, "but we were delayed by harsh weather."

"You are the druids?" Giles asked. At their nods of agreement, he then said, "Welcome to the Hellmouth."

"How proficient are both of you with swords?" a druid asked later that night at the mansion.

"Well enough," Buffy answered, as Angel's lips thinned with memory.

"Can you show us," a female druid asked.

"Yeah..." Buffy said, while looking at Angel, remembering the same thing he was.

After a silent communication with their eyes alone, Buffy and Angel got up from where they had been sitting by the fireplace, and went to an adjoining room. They came out moments later carrying swords.

Glancing around, Angel murmured, "We're going to have to clear the room."

Ten minutes later, Buffy and Angel faced each other, swords drawn. At a silent command from Darkmoon the two Warriors began.

Their first moves were tentative, unsure, but moments later -- their eyes wide and wild with memory -- they began a familiar dance. A dance they could not stop until it was completed.

It only took moments for the others to realize that something was wrong, when Darkmoon took on his guardian form, but did nothing more than growl in what seemed frustration.

"What's wrong," Willow asked, then gasped as Buffy fell to the floor of the garden outside, sword out of reach, Angel standing above her.

For a moment, neither Angel nor Buffy moved. During that same moment, Darkmoon said solemnly, "They relive their darkest memory. Not even I can stop them now. They must complete what they have started."

The moment Darkmoon concluded speaking, Angel raised his sword, and brought it down swiftly towards Buffy as she lay beneath him, eyes closed. In a moment of infinite stillness...the sword was caught between the Slayer's hands.

As her eyes snapped open, Buffy pushed the sword harshly towards Angel. While the vampire staggered back, the Slayer swiftly stood, grabbing her sword as she went. In movements too swift to follow, Buffy and Angel moved back into the main room, the vampire clearly loosing.

Mere seconds after they had entered the room, the vampire lost his sword, and fell to his knees, head bowed. As the Slayer slowly raised her sword for the final -- and fatal -- blow, Angel looked up, his eyes filled with his soul. Drawing in a deep breath, Buffy slowly lowered the sword, as Angel stood. With a clamor, the Slayer dropped the sword, as Angel reached out to take hold of her shaking form.

The moment Angel held the Slayer in his arms, Buffy began crying. Not the simple tears of pain, or the expression of sorrow...but gut-wrenching, body-convulsive cries of agony.

Vampire and Slayer fell to their knees, their strength to stand gone, as Buffy kept saying brokenly, "I'm sorry."

Moments passed, before Angel could speak. When at last he found his voice, he whispered hoarsely, "There was nothing you could have done, Beloved, but what you did."

"So that's what happened to you guys while I was re-cursing you, Angel?" Willow asked.

Angel nodded, as he held Buffy close to him, unwilling to not be touching her at this moment. Buffy, as well, clung to Angel, an occasional shudder coursing through her body. Darkmoon lay between them, purring loud enough for all to hear.

"With the things you have told us these two warriors have gone through... They need not go through the tests," a male druid said. "They have proven themselves far better than any of the tests could. All we need do, is have the higher powers recognize that they are paladins."

Giles asked quietly, "How? There have been no paladins in this realm for millennia's. Not since a thousand years before Christ's coming."

"They will be recognized," Darkmoon said quietly. "My mother already recognizes them."

"Your mother?" Willow said questioningly. "You've said that before when you have called upon the moon, but what does it mean?"

Darkmoon was silent, then leapt to the coffee table in front of him, and said solemnly, "I was found under the new moon, when there should have been no such moon, newly born. The reason for the moon to have darkened when it shouldn't have? She had born me, and sent me to earth...to be bound to the Dark Paladin that would soon come to power."

Darkmoon was silent for a moment, then quietly said, "She ignored the whispers that the Dark Paladin would be turned to darkness before his powers were fully awakened...and that those powers would only come forth during his time in Hell...nearly two and a half centuries later."

Buffy and Angel froze at those words, shock evident on their faces. It was Angel who reacted first, rage consuming him.

"You know!" Angel hissed. "And you didn't warn them!"

"I did not know!" Darkmoon snapped. "I didn't even know that I was a familiar until the night that you were Turned! On that night I woke up to the sound of Mother weeping, and learned who I was."

Darkmoon shook himself, then said more calmly, "I am sorry, Master, for what you have endured. If I had known, I would have stopped it."

Silence fell, as all within gazed stunned at Angel and Darkmoon. Angel then said, in a voice that could barely be heard, his anger gone, "No, it was destined to happen...and I have become stronger for it." The vampire then looked up, and said with a glint in his eyes, "Seven hundred and fifty-five years in Hell will do that to you."

The only sound that followed those words was the shattering of a ceramic cup.