Author: Jazz PM
Primal Forces are at work. Set in the DwtD universe.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Romance/Supernatural - Amy M. - Words: 1,211 - Favs: 1 - Published: 05-28-01 - Status: Complete - id: 298154
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer: Willow & Co. don't belong to me, they belong to Joss and his cronies.
Author's Note: This story is a backstory for Deals with the Dark, but stands alone just fine.
Amy walked through the graveyard, her senses ever alert to everything around her. This night had been a busy one. Seven vampires, and one demon. Frankly, she wondered why she'd ever cast that stupid Huntress spell in the first place. Had she really wanted to fight for her life on a weekly basis?
Her ears caught the sound of supernatural movement, and she automatically slowed as she tried to pinpoint it. Not a vampire... She frowned as she tried to hear more, but suddenly she couldn't hear anything... She jerked as she was tossed forward, and rolled so that she could see her opponent. They both stopped when they saw each other, however. The sudden overwhelming feeling that they shouldn't be fighting each other, but with each other, made Amy gasp.
"What are you?" the man rasped out.
"What are you?" she shot right back. The man raised his head, a signal of respect. "We should talk."
"Agreed. Do you...?" he trailed off.
"Yes. Follow me," Amy sheathed her sword, and led him towards a mausoleum she often used to hide when she ran away from large bunches of vampires that were too numerous for her to handle. He followed her inside, and smirked slightly at the décor.
"Love what you've done with the place." Amy whirled angry towards him. He raised up his hands, empty palms towards her. "No offense intended."
"None taken," she said softly as she took a seat on one of the caskets. The man wrinkled his nose slightly, but took a seat on the one across from her. "So...?" she started.
"Want me to start, eh? I wouldn't be telling you any of this, if I didn't feel this..." he trailed off, not quite sure how to describe it.
"This feeling that I should trust you, absolutely and with no constraints? That the two of us should fight together, not apart, or, heaven forbid, against each other?" The man nodded.
"Exactly. Something is drawing us together... I'm a shaper," he said, as he lifted his hand between the two of them. He demonstrated his ability by changing his hand first into a paw with wicked looking claws, then a rough hided hand with spikes for fingers, and then back to human.
"Were you born that way?" The man stiffened. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry into a sensitive area. I'm a Huntress," she said as she changed the subject. "Basically, what that means is that I cast a spell before Artemis, the Goddess of the Hunt, that made me her vessel. I have to fight for her, but what I fight depends on the Goddess. Sometimes it's vampires, sometimes demons, but also sometimes humans."
"You realize we haven't even introduced ourselves yet?" he asked with a small grin. "I'm Graham," he said, as his shape changed until he was wearing clothing that was neck to toe black. Amy stared at his handsome face until she realized that she was staring and looked away, blushing.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Graham. I'm Amy," she said, as she pulled an amulet off from around her neck. The glamour spell that was used during the Hunt vanished, leaving Amy looking like she normally did. This time it was Graham's turn to stare.
"The pleasure is mutual," he said as he held out a hand to her. She took it, and if felt like a bolt of electricity went through her. Graham brushed a bit of hair from her eyes as they stared at each other.
"How can this be...?" Amy said faintly. "Huntresses are supposed to live their lives alone..."
"Myth says that shapers mate for life. That they know their mate from the first moment they touch. I thought it was balderdash... Guess I was wrong." He leaned down and captured her lips with his. Both of them gasped into the kiss. Feelings and sensations coursed through their bodies, and unable to resist the pull to mate, they sank down onto the floor, and claimed each other in the oldest and most profound of ways.
Amy woke a few hours later to find her mate cradling her in his arms, coasting his hand over her hair again and again. She had to refrain herself from purring. Which one of us is the shaper, here? she asked herself with amusement.
"I became a shaper when I was five," Graham said softly. Amy could tell that telling this story was going to hurt her mate, and she wrapped her arms around him, trying to soothe him the only way she knew how. He nuzzled her head with his cheek with thanks. "A warlock wanted to have his own personal shaper. I don't know if you know this, but shapers are rare, and finding someone who can be a shaper is even rarer. The shaper often has to give their life to let their child live their new life." Graham sighed. "That's not what happened with me, though. I had the right genes that gave a chance to become a shaper, but only a really strong shaper could have changed me, and they probably would have died as a result. But, a little known fact of shaperhood is that if a potential shaper is bathed in the death blood of loved ones, their chances of survival go way up." Amy gasped in horror. "The warlock killed my entire family, from my parents and siblings, grandparents, uncles, aun! ts, cousins. Everyone. The shaper who was forced to turn me didn't die from changing me. Instead she died at the warlock's hands. He cast a spell to make me forget, and figured that he now only had to wait for me to grow up a little before he turned me into his perfect little assassin. What he didn't know, however, was that the other shapers knew of my creation. They came for me, killed the warlock, and set me free of him and his spells. One of them raised me to adulthood." Tears were coursing down Graham's face, as Amy tried to comfort him. "I swore I'd never let anyone in my life again, never let anyone be taken from me because I cared for them."
"We'll always be together. The Goddess brought us together, she won't let us be torn apart."
"You don't understand," Graham said harshly. "Shapers can control the very atoms of their beings. As a result, we don't age. Not once we hit peak."
"You're immortal," Amy whispered.
"I'll lose you one day," he said softly.
The two held each onto each other, each swearing to protect the other. Whatever time they would have, they would cherish it.