Hiraeth (pronounced [hiraɪ̯θ])

    AUTHOR: kerk_hiraeth

    FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (au version of S3's wishverse)

    LENGTH: 1,250;

    CHARACTERS: Tara Maclay; Drusilla; Miss Edith; Tara's Father; Donny Maclay; Cousin Beth;

    SHIP: Tara/Dru; Dru/Miss Edith; Tara/Miss Edith;

    A/N: Pretty sure this would have been the same story I would have written when I wrote the first two episodes in this 'verse; but it does follow more closely where I was headed when I wrote the drabble that served as an interlude, and alluded to in this story.

            This originally included references (clearer anyway) to the song that inspires the overall title for these fics; of which the versions sung by Marlene Dietrich will forever be the definitive ones. Tara's version though is creepier; more delicious and a helluva lot more terrifying.

       Those eyes, destitute of vision; never to be forgotten as that talon closed in.

    ~

    Nor could she rid herself of those cooing sounds; almost as if her sire had imagined she was feeding her victim.

    Though she'd gotten nostalgic, almost, over her cries of pain when her father and brother first raped her; though her anger at the betrayal of her childhood friend became as inexorably white hot as a volcanic river.

    Those tears; that misery, became lost amidst agonising screams once unimaginable to her, as some latin prayer was inscribed into her eyeball only for it to be removed and placed where her other eye saw it before anything else when she rose from the shallow grave her sire had lain her in.

    Those amaurotic eyes? They'd be seared into her brain even when she became as one with the dust.

    The seussian logic of her sire was no match for her own innate powers; of survival and, long buried, fascination.

    Undoubtedly a seer, her sire was myopic where her new companion's talents were concerned; as unable to see the powers used against her as she was unable to fight.

    Or sing.

    She recalled the nightmarish christmas lullaby, ever to be playing in her own head, her sire was crooning as she 'Cornwall'd her vile jelly', before oblivion had solenced her screams, and saved her throat.

    Turned, she found her sire to be a marvellous teacher; creative lover, and unfathomably easy to manipulate.

    She wondered just how insane the vampire who turned her sire had been; wondered too about what family she was talking about.

    Who was 'Mama', or 'Grandmama'; depending on how lucid she was?

    Who was her 'bad, rude man'; why had he abandoned her? To escape her sire's tendency to talk to the stars in the sky?

    She seemed to cock her head as they were whispering to her; even the birds seemed to go silent on those evenings.

    Most of all she wondered who Miss Edith was, who seemed to be in constant touch with her sire; almost as if they were lovers, though she had never met her.

    Or so she had imagined.

    ~

    Purblind; eyes that burrowed deeper than ever had been the case; yet still not as unseeing as her sire had been.

    ~

    She decided that, if ever this Miss Edith came looking she needed to be rid of that threat as speedily as possible. Obvious before, it became ever clearer a necessity once she'd lured her sire to the forest; on the premise of knowing where her 'effulgent wee chld' was.

    In the end her sire was more easily disposed of than her innocence for her family; they it was that drove her inexorably; gathering strength and followers and slaves, trekking back to her family's homestead.

    The smile hidden behind her disingenuously chagrin'd face as Donny invited her in was dancing at the prospect of the play ahead of it's bearer.

    She played with them for days.

    In time she tired of the sport; handing 'dear papa' over to her followers to play with; not to kill, she wasn't as finished with 'mein papa' as all that.

    Donny and Cousin Beth lived an impressively long time as she found ever more, she thought, creative ways to get them to 'partake' of each other.

    Removal of Cousin Beth's vocal chords; tongue first – for ease of access - relieved her of having to listen to that incessant pleading as she slowly remodelled her brother into a rather nice jacket that did, as promised by her designer, look remarkably like Nicholas Cage's in that tiresome movie he'd been obsessed with.

    Cousin Beth now?

    What to do with Cousin Beth?

    The smile when it dawned on her made for exquisite terror in the eyes of her childhood friend; who made for excellent designer, and very piratical, boots, as well as three pairs of hot pants.

    The Human she had been would have been mortified at the idea of wearing them; which now made her feel all the more delicious.

    Donny tasted nicer though; more fat on him.

    Slowly she had gathered intelligence; sending out her followers, and the slaves she'd made of the children and siblings of her tormentors.

    She discovered who Angelus was, or had been; as with his sire and their leader – who the devil had been Aurelius, she'd wondered - they were all dead.

    So was the Slayer as well as the one sent to replace her. It was bothersome that The Master's killer had vanished shortly thereafter; her sire's missing 'naughty, rude boy'.

    She also discovered her mistake about Miss Edith; learnt from it she did though; something the follower who'd laughed on hearing that discovery would never get to do. The rest of her followers and slaves learned from her long, awe-inspiringly terrible; second, death though.

    O, and did they learn.

    Had to be careful; too cowed and they'd be too afraid to be useful.

    Softly crooning 'Falling in Love Again' to herself; she decided she'd have to learn that in German, she tucked Miss Edith into her cot; cooing softly as she removed those sightless eyes. Smiled with a delighted giggle she popped them into the little bag to keep Cousin Beth's company.

    She frowned; not quite able to remember what she'd done with Donny's.

    Recovering them she replaced the nicely shrunken objects carefully within the void left by Miss Edith's.

    Still singing softly to herself she stepped outside to enjoy watching her home town burn; being able to see the surviving townsfolk being driven like their pens made it even more delightful a spectacle.

    Their children were already safely under her control now and watched; terrified and fascinated, whimpering as their families were herded past them. They needed to be strengthened and trained, the best of them new followers; others slaves and a necessary source of food in fallow times. 

    Where to turn now?

    She decided she liked the opportunities Sunnydale's present vulnerability offered.

    It had been a possible escape when Human; it seemed likely too this last of Aurelius' familias, Spike, would not stray too far from any new Slayer who would inevitably turn up; best then to take them both out while this new Slayer was unlearned and they could form an alliance.

    Yes, Sunnydale it would be.

    Satisfied, her attention fell on her father; suspended in his cage; sure he was to be roasted as a final revenge.

    'No mein papa, ' she smirked as a slave she had her eye on handed her the torch.

    Slowly passing close to him she smiled genially as he wept; much as she had once wept. Her intentions for him as secret as ever.

    'I have years of games yet we can play. You shall enjoy your daughter's company for many a day.'

    Letting out a long slow sigh Tara Maclay set the sacrificial pyre aflame. The designer's sudden terror; realising she was to be the Human sacrifice spread a frisson of fear through the crowd that was truly orgasmic.

    Turning, she wondered what other entertainments her followers had conjured for her to enjoy. They'd be good, though it would be a shame if Miss Edith's sacrifice was incomplete.

    Miss Edith would not like that at all.

    Tara smiled, a vampire would complete the trifecta in a most satisfying way.

    Miss Edith would be so disappointed if her children were not to share fully in her sacrifice.

    The firelight made their fear glitter gloriously.

     kerk hiraeth