Most excellent! Today I bring you a bit of fluff complete with knights in shining armor and ladies fair. Sadly I don’t know that I’ll be able to post the entire thing today *pout* as life has once again conspired to mess with my deadlines all over the place. But, this story isn’t nearly as long as the others. So read on and enjoy!
-Rating: G
-Medium: Fanfic
-Title: Welcome to the Middle Ages
-Setting: S6 after “Once More with Feeling” (I have taken a brief liberty with the timeline relating to certain relationships)
-Summary: Buffy goes to a local SCA event to stop a demon plot to turn Sunnydale into an actual kingdom and runs into Spike instead.
-Disclaimer: Neither the SCA nor the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer are mine. I take no credit for any of that – just inspiration. ::grin::
-Author’s Note: The SCA is the Society for Creative Anachronism. It’s a world wide group that recreates the Middle Ages in modern times. There is a definite hierarchy within the group and, lately, a greater degree of authenticity from when it started in the 60s. For more information go to www.sca.org. As far as I know, there are no actual demons in the SCA. ;)
“So… wait… these people dress up like… what? King Arthur and the knights of the round table and whack each other with sticks?” A look of incredulity passed across Buffy’s face. “These are adults? Not kids?”
Giles grimaced at her description, but replied calmly, “Essentially, yes. The members of the SCA portray the middle ages of primarily Western Europe to varying degrees of accuracy. They do hold medieval styled tournaments and practice some of the arts from the time, but that’s not the point. It seems the Sunnydale group has been infiltrated by demons who take the game a little too seriously.”
“Yeah, you said they want to turn Sunnydale itself into a real fiefdom or something. And how do they want to do that again?”
Willow piped up excitedly, “They want to hold a real tournament for the crown and the winner will crown his consort queen and they’ll rule Sunnydale together. It’s so romantic! Just like a fairy tale! Only… well… except for the blood and mayhem… oh…” Her enthusiasm abruptly died with her final thought. Tara placed a comforting hand over hers and murmured soothingly to her.
Buffy grinned. “Blood and mayhem is my specialty. So how do I get in? Is there a secret password or something?”
“Troll,” Anya replied succinctly.
“Beg pardon?”
“Troll… you ‘troll in’ by paying an admission fee. Normally in other groups, the ‘troll’ is a human. The idea being reminiscent of the troll under the bridge in the Billy Goats Gruff – a ridiculous fairy story if you ask me, those goats were asking for it. But Sunnydale being what it is, has a real troll collecting their fees.”
“And did you date this one, too?” Xander asked acerbically.
“I don’t think so… no… I didn’t date this troll. I think I knew him from the French Revolution though. I’d have to check with Haley. We knew so many people back then.”
Buffy stared at Anya in disbelief and then decided to let the comment pass. There was just too much about the ex-demon that she didn’t want to know – relationships with trolls being one of them. “But if it’s a real troll, how do they stop it from bashing in heads and such?”
“It seems that the local group has a very active demon population that drew up a … a… contract of sorts among themselves. All differences between species and tribes and clans and what have you are set aside for the duration of the event or meeting and no blood shed occurs. That’s what makes this current threat within their ranks somewhat disturbing. Either one of them has gotten fed up with the current status quo, or a group of them has banded together for the power to actually bring the middle ages to Sunnydale. It would be best if you were to attend an event and find out more information,” Giles responded.
“Do I hafta?” Buffy’s lack of enthusiasm rang through the Magic Box.
“We’ll go with you, Buffy. Provide some… s-s-support and help you get some info,” Tara stammered.
“Yeah! We’ll go with you. I know a great place where we can find gowns to wear so we fit in. It’s a costume shop… just on Main…”
“Oh, no! No costumes! You know what happened the last time – we were attacked by an evil frat house! And before that… well… let’s just say, I don’t want a repeat of the Ethan Rayne Halloween trick,” Buffy replied adamantly and shuddered delicately.
Giles stepped in. “It’s the only way to attend the event, Buffy. You’d have to be dressed appropriately.”
“But…”
“I must insist, Buffy. If you’re to find out any information at all at this event, you must blend in.”
“Fine,” she capitulated. “But can we verify that Ethan Rayne is nowhere near Sunnydale? Please?”
**********
Buffy tried to get a good look at herself in the tiny mirror provided in the “Ladies’ Changing Room.” If she stood just right, she could see a patch of gold brocade and red ribbon. And if she stood this way…
“Oh! Oh, no! No way! I am not going out in this … this… get up!” she exclaimed whirling away from her reflection.
Willow turned in her direction, bringing Tara with her, hanging onto the laces at the back of her gown. “Why? What’s wrong with it? You look … Oh… um… yeah… well… so it’s a little revealing…”
“A little? You call this a little? I have a… a… shelf! I mean, look at this!” She gestured to her cleavage. “It’s like… defying gravity.”
Tara peered over Willow’s shoulder. Her eyes widened slightly at the sight of Buffy’s bodice encased torso, but she diplomatically muted her verbal reaction. “I think you look… nice. The gold really brings out your… eyes.”
Buffy glanced at Tara wryly. “My eyes, huh? Do you really think people dressed like this back then? I mean, can you see them doing ordinary activities in a get up like this? I feel like I’m going to pop out of it.”
“But you’re not going to be doing ordinary activities, Buffy. Remember what Giles said? Everyone in the SCA is presumed to be minor nobility,” Willow responded.
“Well, then how come you’re not overflowing your… ahem… Will?”
“Um… well… I…” Willow glanced down at her own modestly covered chest. “I guess … um… I don’t know.”
Tara stepped in, “That’s because I’m not finished lacing you up. Now breathe in.” With that she gave a strong yank on Willow’s laces. Willow gasped.
Buffy’s eyes widened. “Hey! Lookit you,” she said. “I don’t feel so exposed now. Right… so are we all set?”
Tara tied off Willow’s laces and smoothed the skirts of her own gown. “All set.”
“Right… all set… I just wanna…” Willow tried to steal a peek at herself in the mirror.
“You look fine,” Tara assured her.
Buffy grinned and opened the door. “You both do. Now, shall we go wow the kingdom with our special brand of amazing beauty and charm? And maybe get some info in the bargain?”
***
Spike strolled around the torch lit list field casually, his helmet hung cavalierly from the end of his rattan sword. He was looking forward to thrashing a bit of demon carcass to relieve some of his tension. That kiss… it still threw him every time he thought about it. Sure, it was easy to think it was some after effect of that very weird singing and dancing demon, but he knew better. They collided into that kiss, had been building towards it ever since Buffy…
He drew a deep breath, shying away from the thought. It still pierced him through his guts to imagine about what she went through when she… And her mates… they didn’t even think…
“My, my, Sir William, such a scowl. And on such a lovely night, as well. Whatever has your hose in a bunch?”
The falsely sweet tones came from an attractive lady standing near. Spike swore under his breath. The last thing he needed tonight was to run into the Mistress Lettice, yet there she was. He could feel the tendrils of her vengeance power curling around him, searching for an opening.
“Lettice,” he responded politely, adopting the civil tones and genteel accent of his society persona. It wouldn’t do to rile Lettice so early in the evening. He’d been warned by the king once already. He swept her a lavish bow.
Lettice smirked and returned his bow with a mocking curtsey. “It is good to see your manners have returned, Sir William. And all it took was a little chat with the king. How extraordinary.”
Dropping his persona’s civilized air briefly, he replied, “The king only said I had to be civil, Lettice. He didn’t say I had to be happy about it, or that I had to put up with you beyond the bounds of politeness. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a man to see about a sword.”
“Fine. I don’t want to hold conversation with you anyway. I will never understand what Drusilla saw in you. But then she never was quite right, was she?”
Spike briefly considered unleashing his demon just to get a scare out of the old biddy, but thought better of it. What did he care what the demoness thought about Dru. His Dark Princess was gone – out of his life forever. She’d made that clear enough. Everything he did now was for Buffy, his Princess of Light. Just then, he caught a glimpse of a new lady over Lettice’s shoulder. There was something familiar about her, the way she moved, the glint of blonde hair in the torchlight…
“Bloody hell!” he exclaimed.
“I beg your pardon? Really, William, if you can’t behave with a modicum of decency…”
Her complaint dragged him out of his surprise. He decided to change tactics with her. “Excuse me, Lettice. I thought I saw someone I would rather… um… right… why don’t we go for a bit of a stroll… this way…” Unceremoniously, he looped his free arm through hers and started to lead her in the opposite direction of the blonde in the red and gold gown.
Lettice set her heels and held her ground. “Unhand me this instant! I will not go anywhere with you. I’ve been used once too often by you to avoid some … some… brazen wench.”
Spike risked a look over his shoulder. Looked like the Slayer was headed off somewhere else. What he couldn’t suss out was why she was here in the first place. He wouldn’t have pegged her for the romantic medievalist type. He turned his attention back to his reluctant companion. “Yeah, right… I’ll be on my way then. Sorry to have bothered you, Lettice.” He sketched a quick bow and disappeared into the crowd of spectators watching the combat.
Lettice scowled after him. “Infuriating vampire.”
***
Buffy, Willow and Tara strolled through the event site taking in everything with varying degrees of enthusiasm. It was clear to Buffy that this was not the first event Willow and Tara had attended. Sure, they could have met any number of the members through UC Sunnydale, but that didn’t explain how comfortable they appeared to be in the gowns, or how they seemed to know the basics about the group.
“Tell me again how you guys heard about this?” she asked, gesturing to encompass the event.
Willow grinned, “A guy in my history class – Ragnar… only in class he’s called John. Anyway, we got to talking and he mentioned that he was in this medieval recreation group. He told me a bit about it and it sounded interesting, but what with … everything… I didn’t have the time until now…”
“And with the rumors floating around now… well it’s our duty to help you solve the mystery. R-r-right?” Tara finished.
“Besides, I want to see if I can talk with a couple of people about the uses for various plants. Tara and I were having a debate about magical and medicinal properties of valerian and… Oh, my god! Isn’t that…? I think it is!” Willow’s enthusiasm reached near piercing squeals of excitement as she looked across the list field. “Tara! I think that’s Mistress Lettice Peyton! Her treastise on the various methods to make wine in period was just… um…”
Buffy smiled indulgently. “So she’s like a rock star or something?”
Willow nodded excitedly.
“Then go. Be all fan-girly. I think I can handle this info gather now that I’ve got the lay of the land.”
The words were barely out of her mouth before Willow gave a delighted little squeal and was off like a shot. Tara threw Buffy a rueful glance, “You’re sure? I could stick with you… help you…”
“Nah. I’m good. ‘Sides, somebody’s gotta keep an eye on Willow. ‘Sides it’s nice to see you guys all cuddly again. Things have been kinda tense lately.”
“Tense? I don’t know what you…”
Buffy shrugged Tara’s comment aside, “Seriously, go. I’ll be fine. We’ll catch up say in … an hour?”
“An hour… okay. Meet you in the hall where the dancing will be?”
“It’s a plan.”
Buffy watched Tara as she hurried to catch up with Willow. She saw the two of them link arms and head in the direction of an amazingly arrayed woman with some sort of vine-like leaves around her head and trimming her gown. Beyond the three, she caught a glimpse of the list field.
“Ooh! Weapons!”
***
Spike drew on his helmet as he entered the field to face his opponent. He eyed up his foe – a Kralkrak demon going by the unlikely title of Lord Henry Dunwitty. They’d fought a time or two before and were pretty evenly matched in the lists. Still it had been sometime since Spike last picked up rattan, he might very well be in for a challenge today. Perfect!
The list marshal called out the honors and then came the cry, “Lay on!”
The two fighters circled each other for a little, looking for an opening. Finally, Spike saw what he was looking for and swung his great weapon towards Henry’s left shoulder as the shield dipped a bit. Henry was prepared, though and deftly blocked the blow while striking a glancing blow off Spike’s helm with his sword. And battle was engaged. Soon the air was filled with the clangs and thuds of helmets and rattan meeting. The fighters’ grunts of exertion mingled with the crowds’ murmurs of appreciation and polite applause. The bout lasted longer than several of the previous fights, but it wasn’t long before Spike took advantage of a moment of distraction and struck a solid blow to Henry’s legs. Henry dropped to his knees.
“Do you yield, Lord Henry?” Spike asked jokingly, knowing full well what the answer would be.
“Hell, no! Do you?” Henry quipped jauntily.
Spike laughed in reply and readied himself to deal the final blow. Just then, Henry let out a low whistle and turned his head to look at something to the left and just a little bit behind Spike.
“That’s not the Slayer here is it? Man! She looks … well for a human that is… wow…”
Spike involuntarily turned to look, just for a moment to glimpse a bit of gold and red through the grille of his helm. That moment of inattention was all it took for Henry to deal a blow to his legs that rattled him to the ground. He barely had the time to mount a quick defense before Henry started raining blows to his torso and arms. The other fighter was sloppy, though, and none of the blows were hard enough to wound, let alone kill. Finally, Spike was able to maneuver himself into position to bring his weapon around with enough force to strike the final blow against Henry’s helm. The demon made a show of his “death,” reeling in place for a few seconds before falling straight back from the knees, arms flung wide. A ruffle of laughter went through the crowd. Spike hopped to his feet and offered a hand to his defeated foe.
“Winner: Sir William the Bloody!” the marshal bellowed as Spike removed his helmet and bowed to the crown and then to the crowd.
He heard the shocked gasp as he straightened and looked straight at Buffy standing by the list ropes. He grinned wryly and made his excuses to Henry.
Buffy glanced wildly about as she realized he was coming her way. Unfortunately, she was hemmed in on all sides and there was no where to run without making a scene.
“My, my, my, what have he here?” he taunted as he came up to her. “Don’t you look … fetching?” Reaching out, he ran a gauntleted finger under a lock of her hair and let it fall decorously across her breast.
Annoyed, Buffy brushed his hand away. “Stop it. What are you doing here?”
“What am I doing here? Better question is what are you doing here? Bit out of place, aren’t you? Never pictured you for the fancy dress kind.”
“You’re impossible,” Buffy groused. She turned and made her way out to the edge of the crowd, leaving Spike no other choice but to follow.
When they reached a clearer spot she stopped and spun to confront him. “So? Why are you here, and dressed like that? And did that guy really call you Sir William the Bloody?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’ve been with this group for a while. It’s a good way to let off steam, yeah? Nothing like real fights out on the streets, but good enough. And he called me that ‘cause its m’name, right?”
Buffy raised an eyebrow at him. “You mean you’re a regular member of this group of… of…”
“SCAdians? Yeah. What of it? They’re a harmless bunch. Historical nuts mostly. Some just can’t let the old days die. And it’s fun.”
“Harmless, huh? So then I guess you don’t know that there’s rumors of someone wanting to take over the … barony? Is that right? Whatever… This guy… guys want to take over the group and really bring the middle ages back. I’m trying to find out info so we can stop it ‘cause feudalism… not of the good.”
Spike scowled slightly. “That can’t be right. I mean, yeah, there’s always a demon here or there sayin’, ‘If I were the baron I would be a real baron and have a fighting unit to be feared,’ but real feudalism? I don’t know.”
“Either way, I need to follow up and get some intell. Just every time I try to ask questions, I get … stonewalled… or blank stares. I’m beginning to think this rumor is just a rumor,” she replied grumpily.
To be continued… Follow me to Part 2
Originally posted at http://seasonal-spuffy.livejournal.com/247018.html
