Fic: Xander's Kingdom (Giles, Xander) FRT

[il_mio_capitano]

Title: Xander’s Kingdom
Author: il_mio_capitano
Length: 3150
Characters: Giles, Xander
Rating: PG13 (some language)
Setting: Vaguely post Chosen.

Final Apology: Not remotely slash, don't go getting your hopes up.

Xander's Kingdom

This was their fourth no strike that, fifth day travelling together in the dry heat of the rocky desert. There had been three relatively happy days crossing the red sandstone plain before they had reached the awesome sight of the towering mountain and the two men’s ultimate objective. The three mules they had purchased as transport had spooked almost immediately. It was the Mountain of the Eagles, sacred to local culture for three thousand years, and no-one, they had been warned, no-one ever violated it without a price.

Xander walked ahead through the rock, gripping the reins of the fully loaded pack mule with his sweat stained gloves. He pulled his sorry procession after him. He was limping from blisters and fatigue but he knew had to continue to go down to find somewhere to camp soon.

They had respected local custom, avoided ancient traps of magick, and scrambled in defiance of nature’s plan to erode everything to dust. They had made it to the top and even entered the cavern called the Nest but that was when their luck had finally run out and so began Xander’s desperate battle to get down with as much of his party as remained. They had suffered two slow days of painful descent so far. It would take another day at least to get them to the small farm where they’d bought the mules for their quest.

They’d already lost one of their mules on the descent at the canyon turn, spooked by a flash of giant eagle wings and fatigue; it had fallen heavily and broken a leg. Giles had sat in what little shade he could find whilst Xander had transferred the saddlebags and camping gear to his own ride, accepting he’d have to walk from there on it. He’d been surprised Giles had packed a revolver.  The very air had flinched as he’d pulled the trigger on the beast.

“What time is it?” shouted Giles riding on the tether behind, his voice remarkably breezy though Xander knew he was as tired as he was.

“A couple of hours left till sundown,” replied Xander. His lips cracked and his throat tasted of metal. He hadn’t spoken since he’d gunned down one third of their transport. An impressive eagle continued to circle the ledge up above them where he’d left the carcass. He wondered if it was escorting them or mocking him to see what else he could butcher.

“We should find a place to camp soon,” shouted Giles.

“I know.”

Having found somewhere for Giles to rest, Xander began to make camp. He slacked the girth from the first of the mules and the sweat hazed off the animal in relief. He rubbed it down and gave it his share of the water and food rations. He wiped the crud of dust from around its eyes as best he could. The second mule was holding his foot gingerly but was too tired to kick him when he ran an inspecting hand down the muscles. The whole animal quivered when he reached the sore spot. Xander wrapped a bandage around it whilst his patient relieved itself on his boots. He’d become used to the smell. In five days the odour of their transport was ingrained into the tent, the food, hell, even the water canteens. It wasn’t of importance anymore.

“How far do you think we travelled today?” asked Giles. Xander pitched their tent and quietly began on a meagre camp fire. “Xander?” Giles raised his voice uncertainly.

“Over here,” he replied. “I don’t know. I’m just trying to keep us to the way we came up. Another day, maybe two.”

“It’s taking too long. Buffy will be expecting us back.”

Xander grunted. He’d long since given up on the dream of anyone coming to their rescue. It was down to him.

Giles sat perched upright. “The temperature is starting to drop. We’ll need the fire soon.”

“I’m on it.”

“Right. Sorry.” Giles could be so British sometimes. “What’s the sky like?”

Xander looked above him. “There’s no moon but some stars are coming out. How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.” Giles said cheerily. “Have you got it?”

It. Rather a lot had rested on such a small word. Rather more now.

“The Eye of the Eagle, have you got it?” Giles grew nervous.

“Yes. Don’t sweat it. It’s in the saddlebag. I wrapped the crystal so it’s safe.”

“Good. I hate to think all this effort is for nothing.” Giles smiled to himself and Xander let it pass. “Perhaps another day after this then but then we should be back to that farm. In fact,” he continued almost happily, “Maybe when we get a little closer you should go on ahead? Buffy needs the Eye for the ritual as soon as possible and we’ve taken much longer on the descent than we intended.”

Xander regarded Giles coolly but he seemed in earnest. Giles was always in earnest of course, even when he was being colossally stupid.

“Sure,” replied Xander. “But let’s figure that out nearer the time.” Giles smiled his satisfaction to the gloom.

“Don’t worry Xander.  I can manage till you come back with some help. Everything will be alright. This,” he gestured to his pale, lifeless eyes that in the sparks of the firelight returned no soul. “This can probably be fixed by Willow. I’ll be slightly less than twenty-twenty again in no time.” Giles smiled uncertainly again to share the joke.

“I need to set up a latrine,” said Xander flatly. “Will you be OK on your own for a bit?”

“Of course, I’m fine really. Don’t fuss. Which way is the tent?”

Giles rose and put out an arm. Xander darted across and let him find his shoulder. He hated the way Giles held his head cocked with an ear to him; hated he was a Listener now.

“It will all be worth it once Buffy has the Eye. Trust me,” Giles said encouragingly.

Xander made no reply.

He wiped the back of the spade on the mean, scrubby vegetation and returned to find their precious campsite partially wrecked. It looked like a bear had attacked it. The saddlebags had been completely ransacked and he could see a chain of debris: First aid, precious food bags, water canteens, climbing ropes everything they needed to keep themselves alive had been discarded as worthless.

Giles was on his knees ripping open a sleeping bag with a small knife. He turned accusingly when he heard Xander’s boots crunch on the dry earth.

“Where is it?” he shot angrily.

Xander licked his dry lips. “It’s in the tent for safe keeping.”

“Liar. You said it was in the saddlebags.”

Xander spoke far more calmly then he’d imagined he would when this moment came. “Are you going to destroy the tent now too?”

Giles threw down the sleeping bag and rose. He still held the knife in a tight grip.

“Xander, I’m only going to ask you once more.” The veins on his neck throbbed with dark colour. “The Eye of the Eagle, the thing we came all this way for, climbed so far, risked so much for…the thing that Buffy needs us to bring back for her or we might as well have gone to Coney Island for the day….Where the fuck is it?”

Xander eyed the knife. “We don’t have it. I’m sorry Giles. It’s back at the cavern. I dropped it.”

“You dropped it? You idiot. You utter moron.”

Giles dropped to the ground and started to feel for items to stuff back angrily into the saddlebags. “We have to go back for it.”

“No.” Xander risked a couple of steps nearer. “We can’t go back. Giles, you’re injured. We need to get you off this mountain to a doctor.” He leant forward and touched the sleeve of Giles’ coarse green jacket. “Me and the mules have taken a vote on this and that’s what we are doing,” he added softly.

Giles spun. “Fuck what the mules think. We’re climbing back up now. The whole point of this was to get the Eye. We can’t fail Buffy now.”

“Giles, stop it. You need to calm down.”

With hindsight, Xander realised that is never a good suggestion to make to anyone. Giles lashed out in anger and connected with Xander’s jaw.  Fear, instinct and adrenaline made the younger man defend himself. He aimed a punch but slipped a little in his tired boots, catching Giles a little more cleanly than he’d intended. Giles was on his knees and spat a little blood into the dust. He was wounded and angry and sprang up quickly, lashing out with clenched fists but Xander backed away quickly gave him no target.

Giles spun his arms wildly.

“You had no right….we’re going back up. Buffy needs the Eye.”

“Grow up, Giles.”

Again, probably not his best retort. Giles took another wild swing at the darkening air.

Xander tried reason. “Buffy wants the two us down off this mountain more than she needs some evil piece of costume jewellery. It’s over. We need to go home now.”

His long sentence gave Giles a target to launch himself upon. Xander was knocked over as much by the unexpected venom as the actual assault. They crashed to the ground heavily.

“Fuck you. You don’t see it do you?” cried Giles.

Xander grabbed Giles’ coarse jacket and rolled him. Years of fighting demons came to his aid as he wrestled with the guy he’d always considered reasonable and level headed to the point of totally boring.

“Giles. Stop it. There is nothing to go back for. I didn’t drop it. I destroyed it.” They wrestled dangerously close to the small fire.

“What?”

“I had to. It was killing you. It had taken your sight and it was going to take the rest of you. I smashed it. I couldn’t just stand by and watch.”

“But Willow can fix this-”

Xander went limp briefly and scrambled free of Giles’ clutch, his jeans caught the fire but didn’t take.

“Oh god’s sake. Gone is gone. Trust me on this. I’m the expert on this. I saw what it did, the way it consumed your eyes. It was horrible. Every time I wake up I can still smell them burning, Giles….”

“And what about Buffy?”

“Fuck Buffy. Just for once Giles, will you stop your little world from spinning around Buffy. We could still die on this mountain. I’ve got one stupid blind guy, two mules - one of which is lame, and blisters in my boots the size of dinner plates. I’m tired and I’m angry, but I’m always going to win in this. So if you want to keep swinging, I swear to god I will keep knocking you down.”

Giles lay motionless on the ground. The fight seeped out of him.

“Maybe you should have let it finish what it started,” he spat into the earth.

“Let it kill you? Yeah I’m beginning to think that.”

They ate the last of their dry food in silence. Rations had whittled to one and half candy bars and a packet of Doritos. Water would become an issue the following day but neither had entirely wanted to abandon the comfort of the chips. Giles crawled into the tent sullenly as Xander cleared the debris of his friend’s rampage and settled the fire. It smoked and spat in protest as he kicked the dust. Darkness levelled the ground. Night clouds had covered the stars and dressed the earth for mourning.

Having checked the mules again, Xander worked his way into his side of their two-man tent. Giles was on his side with his back to him, slightly curled around. He sniffed a little as Xander wriggled out of his jacket for a blanket and lay down. Both men listened to the air.

“Xander?”

He was too tired to ask who else it might be. “Uh huh?”

“Do you think Willow can fix this?”

Xander remembered his own blind faith and  Willow’s red eyes as she’d visited him in the hospital after Caleb. He remembered how she was usually so chatty but on that occasion, not.

“Maybe,” he answered. “Maybe with time or doctors…”

“It’s just…I can’t be…The books I need for Buffy don’t exactly come in braille.” Giles’ voice choked a little on his small joke.

“Shh. Try to get some sleep.”

“I can’t be a blind Watcher, Xander. Big fucking joke on me.”

In the utter remorseless of the dark, Xander put an arm around his shaking friend in support.

“I know.”

He slept heavily. It was still before light but he was woken by the less nocturnal insects seizing their chance of the day before the heat kept them in their holes in the ground. He swept something off his cheek quickly. It was uncomfortable sleeping in his eye patch but better than waking up with too many uninvited guests.

He looked across to find he was alone. He must have slept heavily indeed for Giles to have crept out of the tent, that or Giles was very determined not to wake him. He snapped alert and kicked his way out of the tent into the grey early light that signalled the approach of dawn.

“Giles?”

The fire had long smouldered to ashes overnight. He looked over to both mules standing peacefully. They had slept heavily too.

Xander ran his fingers through his greasy hair and thought.

“Giles?”

A blind man on a rocky desert mountain cannot go far, even if he was stupid. Xander dived back to the tent and checked where he’d left the revolver. With relief it was still in his kitbag with his wallet, map and compass. He’d have heard it had it fired of course. He needed to think more clearly.

He checked the latrine area for the innocent explanation that Giles had simply fallen and been hurt. He scanned the earth for signs of footwork and disturbance on the trail heading down. Finally he looked up at the towering rocks above him and the route they’d taken so painfully down in the past two days. It was difficult at first, but eventually he saw a figure hunched in contemplation on a precarious cliff ledge some 50 meters above him. Oh crap. Did he know how close to the edge he was? A huge eagle danced on the early thermals just above him.

“Giles,” he shouted and waved. “Stay right there, Giles. I’m coming up.”

The figure gave no acknowledgement as Xander grasped the rocks and scrambled himself up, feeling for foot and handholds that wouldn’t crumble too severely in the sandstone rocks. Small birds darted about and sang angrily at being disturbed by the spray of pebbles and dust he was generating. He climbed as directly he could, knowing there must had been a better path, but worried Giles might not know where he had chosen to sit. He hadn’t moved since Xander had first called his name.

When he was level, Xander scuffed his boots deliberately as he drew closer. Giles took a deep breath but offered no helping hand as Xander pulled himself by the belly up onto the same ledge. He rolled with very little dignity, before dusting his jeans and sitting very close to his old friend. Giles had his folded his arms during all this ungainly manoeuvring and was now swinging his great boots slightly.

He was keeping his head turned away to listen though. It was funny, Xander had never been afraid to look Giles in the eyes before. He’d been the first adult he’d known that gave him that respect. After Caleb people had avoided looking at Xander out of awkwardness and pity. Never Giles though. He’d always been straight with him.

“You’re up early,” Xander said as conversationally as if they’d just met in their driveways collecting the morning paper.

“Is it light yet?” Giles looked thin and grey as he posed the question.

“No.”

“I don’t even know what time of day it is anymore”. Giles shook his head sadly.

Sitting up there, Xander had a perfect view of the desert they still had to cross to get back to other people. The sun was beginning to herald its return in the east as the sky swept into lighter shades of grey. The eagle crested the two men’s position at a distance, rose effortlessly and perched above them as if in earshot.

“I’m sorry about the stuff I said last night. Maybe I lost my perspective there.” said Xander. “It’s just, I’ve stared down a lot of apocalypses at your side, but when it took a hold of you like that…I’ve never been so frightened in my life. I had do it. It was never a choice.”

Giles nodded. The tip of the sun pushed at the horizon.

“I’m sorry too.” Giles unfolded his arms and learned backwards on his hands, staring straight ahead. “I was angry at my own foolishness and blaming you. You were right to do what you did. I see that now. Well” he smiled, “You and the enfranchised mules.”

“We do stubborn.”

“Your stubbornness is what has got us this far and I’m grateful for it. And I never thanked you for saving my life.”

“You’re welcome.”

The sun broke free of its moorings to the earth and bathed the sky is soft pink light. It would bring heat quickly enough and the promise of battle in the new day.

“The mules helped there as well of course.” Xander added.

“I’ll be sure to thank them later.” It was good to hear Giles chuckle however briefly.

Pink disappeared almost as quickly as it had come and orange and red streaked the sky to chase away the last of the night’s thin clouds.

“It’s just,” Xander began. “When I smashed the thing. Well, I’d hoped it would make things right. That it would restore your eyes. Put things back how they were. I’m so sorry it hasn’t worked though maybe with time or a doctor or Willow….”

“Xander Harris. The man who still believes in Magic.”

He shrugged. “Right now I could do with someone pulling a rabbit out of a hat.”

The eagle above them tired of its perch and launched itself with a cry and slap of meter long wings. Xander ducked and flinched into Giles expecting attack, but the bird was no longer interested. He watched it set off towards the sun with majestic wings rolling into the background of the morning sky.

“Xander.”

“What?” He turned his attention back to Giles who was beaming. Xander grinned by infection. Giles’ broad smile after these difficult days was a sight for sore eyes. It brought the colour back to his cheeks.

Giles pointed to the direction of the eagle. “The sun has come up,” he said simply.

The end