A/N: Been a couple weeks, hasn't it? Ah, never fear, SxL fans! I come bearing post!series SxL-ness! (Note that you have been warned) This was written in response to the monthly challenge on the SxL community at Live Journal. The prompt was "new beginnings", and I thought post!series was pretty much implied. So here's my piece inspired by none other than the Lovin' Spoonful's "Do you believe in magic"!

Dedication: To Ieva, who, with her outstanding description and portrayal of Scar in her own writings, has inspired me to write him at my best! Thanks, Ieva!

Do You Believe In Magic?

The festive atmosphere lingered around the encampment, travelers from all corners of the area gathered here to live together in harmony. He didn't pay it much mind, as he too was a wonderer, far away from his original homeland and finding refuge with this group of people. The majority of them were a talented crew, music and dance one of their fondest traditions, and they had brought it into the camp that day, celebrating with song to a deity he wasn't sure if he believed in or not.

He didn't believe in much. He didn't believe in mankind, as it had turned into a heartless sort of the monstrous type, waging fruitless wars with each other for no real reason. Perhaps there were goals behind these attempts at overcoming a neighboring country, but he would never know them. He was just a man, without his home and family to fight for. All he had was himself.

He had barely any faith in a higher power, either, losing sight of that spirituality long ago when his people were forsaken and denied the right to exist. This nation to the east claimed that they were a worthless race, wishing them all dead, and claiming that they were the dominant people. He wasn't sure if they all believed that, or if only their leaders did, but it didn't matter, he supposed. If his God loved him and his people, surely something would have been done by now, right?

And he didn't believe in love, of course, finding it to be a ridiculous and useless emotion only to be wasted on the foolish minded. The concept of it and even thinking about experiencing it made him scowl with disdain, never wanting to feel anything of the sort. Love could be for the faint hearted and frivolous - never for him.

This aura of gladness and joy struck an odd chord with him, though, seeming to remind him of a memory so distant he wasn't even sure if it was real. Images of a desert people strikingly similar to his pulsated in his mind, fire lighting the center-most point of the memory, and song echoed around him. There were so many people he didn't recognize, and even if he had, he wouldn't be able to tie them to the people he knew now, as all of the family and friends he had before were all dead or gone elsewhere.

His hazy gaze fell on a kind pair of soft red eyes, glasses on the brim of his nose and a smile was on the man's gentle face. "Alexander, won't you join in the fun with your friends?" the man said, his voice echoing and bouncing off the walls of his mind. That was the name he had now... was this really a memory? "Staring at the fire won't bring you any joy, now. Go ask for a dance with one of the girls."

Though the memory was already beginning to fade, the fire growing dimmer, he could tell that he hadn't wanted to participate in the manner this man wanted him to. A look of distaste fell on his present expression, shaking away the memory as he glared on at the foolish sight before him. Many of these "gypsies" as they called themselves had taken part whole-heartedly in the festivities, men and women alike dancing about like they had nothing at all to worry about in the world. They seemed as though nothing was wrong at all with society. All that mattered to them was now and that they wanted to enjoy their time together.

"Fine" he thought. "Let them do as they please. I won't involve myself in another tradition that isn't my own."

"Excuse me?" purred a soft, but still intriguingly deep feminine voice from above. He brought his gaze up to meet with a amazingly astounding pair of mauve eyes, and skin like his. Her hair was a long and dark brown, waves of it flowing down her back and cascading over her shoulders. She had a nervous, but gentle smile on her lips as she looked down at him, noting the slight hint of surprise on his features. "I couldn't help but notice that you were sitting here by yourself, and thought you could use some company. Would you mind if I stayed with you for a little while?"

Trying to mask his faint excitement with his usual stern glare, he replied. "Do what you will."

Despite his dry response, she was eager to accept it and sat beside him, looking over his features again. She had been staring at him for some time now, but seeing him this close made her heart flutter with girlish glee. Unlike her, he had stark white hair and slightly darker skin than her own, no doubt kissed by the sun after all these years in such a climate. His features intrigued her greatly, though, and she found herself wondering how such an attractive man wasn't taking part in the celebration before him. Was he just shy, or was he something of a public recluse, defiantly sitting before the fire while the others danced? Most likely both, she figured, as his expression answered every question she considered asking.

The pain written in his eyes told his story, a tale of tragedy, heartbreak, and even confusion. He had lost someone very dear to him, a family member most likely, and he carried the guilt of death on his shoulders all the way across the desert. No wonder he never opened up to anyone, she thought, not wishing to grow close to another for fear of losing them so suddenly. His heart had been broken to pieces long ago, as well, the woman he loved marrying another instead of him. Heartbreaking indeed, thus confirming his shy nature around the other women of the camp. Then his perplexed expression aroused a great deal of suspicion in her mind, seeming to believe that bits of his existence were strewn about between two different, yet surprisingly similar lives.

She could understand so much without asking questions, but her silence wasn't helping to improve the look on his face, so she found her voice again and spoke. "Do you believe in fate, Stranger?"

He glanced her way, wishing he could wipe away that curious smile on her face. He hated feeling like he was inferior compared to anyone, especially a woman. "I don't believe in anything." he replied, succinctly. Did it matter at all to anyone what he believed? It didn't even matter to him, so why should someone else care?

"That's a shame," she said, turning her head to look directly in front of her, grinning at the display of young children dancing together around the fire. "We are the last of a people that believed in so much, and it is true that we are dying, but not just physically. Our way of life is withering away because we are losing sight of our faith."

That was true, he knew, having cast aside his beliefs on the dirt road many miles behind him, and pressing forward only by means of his determination. This woman, however, rekindled that faint desire to reclaim his religion, having seen that glowing smile on her face that reminded him of the way he used to smile as a child on the way to devotions in the village. His brother had taught him so much of their faith, and would surely be disappointed to know that his pupil had forgotten it all already. Maybe it was possible to believe again.

"And what do you believe in?" he asked, his tone lighter and more curious now.

Her lips remained bold and true in their upward curve as she spoke. "I believe in many things, Stranger."

"Alexander." he said sharply, no longer wishing to hear such a nameless title roll off her tongue.

Chuckling slightly, she continued. "Well, Alexander, I have faith in our God, in our people, and in the love we have for each other. There's no greater power than love, this I would like to know for myself." She then stood up, her admirable figure glowing in the firelight as she turned to face him, hand stretched out for his. He looked at it peculiarly, then back up at her sparkling eyes, as if they were begging for him to accept her unspoken proposal.

"I already told you, I don't believe in anything." he told her gruffly, standing up so that he could walk away. However, he couldn't make his legs move past her after being captivated by that mesmerizing hue of her eyes, both shimmering as if they were freshly refined jewels directly out of the fire.

She gently took his hand in hers, fingers soft and warm against his hard and calloused grasp. Such a delightful feeling... "Then I think you should believe in magic, Alexander, because that's the only thing that can make you believe in anything else."

He didn't have another chance to argue when she pulled him over into the group of dancing people, tambourines and drums beating incessantly in his ears as she danced around him, laughing as the children joined in. Needless to say, he felt rather foolish, but when he took note of the strange feeling in his chest, he recognized it to be happiness. It was steadily rising to the surface and asking for him to feel it with all of his heart. He could not so readily accept it so soon, but he would allow it to chip away at his hardened spirit, secretly wishing to start over at this second chance he had in living life.

Maybe it was only magic, but whatever it was, he loved it.

A/N: Think Scar was pretty IC? Honestly, I think he was almost a little too IC. lol But that's just me. If you liked this, leave a review, and if you didn't, dun flame! Thanks for your time!

P.S. - Oh, and if you're wanting to read a longer SxL piece with some fluff in it, go check out my piece entitled Ever Dream. It's my baby, and I love it to death!

47thLight