Anton was waiting smiling at the two as they alighted from the car. He greeted both men with the traditional kiss to both cheeks followed by a firm handshake. Xander feeling in that moment rather silly for his former outburst as the genuinely welcoming smile and brotherly backslap gave him a sense that Anton was actually his family too.
The castle was impressive. The ancient eight inch thick, black forest pine doors groaned in protest as their brass hinges were forced to move and admit the newcomers.
Xander stood for a moment and ventured his view upward. Enormous iron candelabras hung from inch thick loops of chain attached to an ornate ceiling at least a hundred feet above them. The sweeping staircase with a banister wide enough to ride even the largest adult, had walls decorated with a progression of ‘family portraits’ documenting at least eight hundred years of ruling occupants in the incumbent family.
Xander was again amazed by his partner. Spike looked utterly at ease, thanked Anton for his hospitality and went on to comment in a complimentary mode regards some of the images of relatives on the first landing. Anton was obviously pleased and began to fill ‘William’ in on the various foibles and failings of said ancestors (or in the case of the immortal, his ‘inheritors’).
As the afternoon progressed, Xander learned to his utter amazement that Anton had begun his life somewhere back in the times of ancient Greece. He didn’t even recall if they had studied that period at school but knew the story of Troy from the movies ten or so years ago.
Anton seemed to sense the importance for Xander to understand the history and the dynamic they were about to face, so shared with both Spike and his consort his own ‘story’ to begin the process. For Spike it was revelatory, but not unexpected. For Xander it was utterly amazing.
Anton was borne the youngest son of the youngest cousin of Kleisthenes (the head of the Alcmaeonid clan) the year he came to power in 510BC, ruling Greece with an all but reformistic (some would suggest liberal) agenda. As a consequence, Anton had grown up in a very wealthy household in Athens. It was still an ancient kingdom then, fielding threats from warring neighbors – particularly the Persians. Despite that, changes to slave laws and rules regarding democratic decision making were introduced under his uncle’s rule and issues of state permeated all their family discussions.
As was the custom amongst the rich, he was initiated into the art of love-making by a favorite aunt at seventeen. A devoted teacher she trained him carefully, just as he was also trained in the art of war by an elderly warrior then attached to the household as mentor and sparring partner, and educated in the literary and mathematical disciplines of the time by a friend of his father. He had a wonderful male cousin, a few years his senior, with whom he explored other bodily delights, expected behavior for the men of his time. Yet it was not always to be so….
Within months of Anton’s minor participation at the win against the Persians at Marathon (he was held back as son of a noble until the last assault), he was faced with an eternity of decisions rather than a lifetime.
By that stage, he was twenty eight, married and destined for a ruling position in one of the clan’s regions just west of Athens, but one fatal night was turned at a drunken victory party at the villa of a friend.
Oddly he was never really part of vampire culture, as his Sire, (a Master from the Hittite era, though hailing from Egypt) was the epitome of a hedonist, and exhibitionist of the first degree, setting up camp in one of the local temples and attending parties, engaging the locals with gay abandon. Unfortunately, two nights after he turned his second Childe, the lovely Anton, he fell foul of a low lying broken tree branch as he staggered home from a drunken orgy, dusting himself only hours away from Anton rising.
Anton awoke as a fledgling Childe with no Sire, laid out as if a sacrifice on the alter of Artemis. Confused and disoriented, the newly made vampire fell to his knees and prayed to the Goddess of the Hunt for forgiveness considering himself to have defiled her sacred place with his inebriated presence but not yet understanding his ‘revised’ status. Whether it was Artemis (Diana in Roman terms) or the Powers or whoever… he never knew, but he was granted the blessing (or curse) of being immortal, and had his soul restored. The latter was thankfully made undetectable to the demon community, but both ‘states’ still left him on the outer edge of human and demon contact for close on a thousand years.
As they wandered towards the conservatory and the comment on his own ostracism (a term invented by his uncle Kleisthenes) was offered, both Spike and Xander observed the normally dispassionate Immortal as being quite forlorn. Spike grabbed his own wrist bit down hard then offered the blood of family to Anton… Xander felt the hope and need through the link and understood. He too reached for the Immortal, pulled the free hand to his lips and kissed it, then placed the back of the same to his forehead as a sign of fealty. Xander felt… safe, and now understood Spike’s need to have this ancient warrior as his proxy Sire.
For Anton it was two and a half thousand years before his settled ‘partnering’ with a Slayer, Buffy, and another ten before he felt the tug of ‘family’ in a way that had not drawn him since his own turning. The sudden entrance into his existence of William and his Consort somehow completed a link that he had not even realized he was missing, until it happened... and now he was….content. For the first time in two and a half millennia he had a sense of wholeness again, it was extraordinary… and something he was not willing to let go… the latter being a second epiphany for the afternoon.
Anton had not really ever aspired to the control of Europe, but the protection of family was quite a different issue. The plans for the following day fell into place as Xander was given a crash course in traditional Consort etiquette, and Spike tried desperately to remember all the names and various political agendas of those due to arrive. He could not have done it without Anton and his staff.
…………………….
They were seated on classic leather couches sipping port in the enormous library, Anton obviously enjoying his role as host, when matters fell to the serious reason for their visit.
“William….Alexander… I am sure you are aware of your role here as Named Successor and his Consort, along with the basic expectations… and must say that your choice of attire will impress. However I am also fairly certain that even you William may be unprepared for the challenges.
Anton held his hand up to still Spike’s automatic move to protest.
“Little brother it is the order of things… they may challenge you physically, mentally or magically, indeed your consort will no doubt be included, but it is only so you might prove yourself to this disparate group. Prove yourself worthy and you may rule with impunity and abdicate in favor of Connor at any time should you wish it.”
Despite a variety of different questions, Anton remained silent regarding the exact nature of what might be to come, though Xander learned of his expected position during meetings… in Spike’s lap! Something that made them both snigger then become concerned as his larger size was hardly conducive to Spike ‘doing business’. Anton eventually suggested a ‘cross’ position where Xander might actually sit on a cushion beside his partner yet continue to intertwine legs and show open affection as was custom.
After several more drinks (alcohol rather than blood) and ‘finger food’, Xander and Spike retired to their quarters.
They were lying on their backs side by side on the biggest circular bed either of them had seen, though utterly in keeping with their surroundings… The suite was extraordinary, the ceiling painted almost in Schloss Neuschwanstein style, all stars and angels. Xander could not help but wonder what demon would create such… beauty.
“Penny for your thoughts luv.”
“What?”
“Penny for your thoughts…? What is it in that noggin of yours that’s worth pondering so hard as to cause you to ignore this….” Spike licked from Xander’s navel to his right nipple for a second time… apparently without effect…
“It’s just so…. The ceiling… how could one person see that and recreate it and…” Xander rolled to lie on his side facing his beautiful partner. “You know I thought I was *so* good with my whole working with wood and then the whole construction gig but I come to Europe and these guys have been doing *unbelievable* things for thousand of years… It’s all so much better than me! You know… the buildings that we put up today back with Jim… someone will bulldoze in twenty years... but these guys…” He gesticulated around the room, “These guys built it knowing that it would be here forever… like Anton… like you… Like you Spike… and I’m like the crass southern Californian high rise…. Ready to be bulldozed after twenty years or so….” He trailed off.
Spike had thought about discussing the turning of his consort as he knew there would be no problem installing a soul given his contacts… but it was not the time. Spike was also fearful that it seemed to have escaped Xander’s attention that if Xander died so did Spike, and there was nothing magical about that …. He simply could not live without his consort and would walk into the sun. The shy Victorian, and wounded lover in him was not game to ask, quite yet, if the reciprocal was true.
Spike felt the anguish through the link but really could not begin to give an answer, so chose to bite rather than speak. How could you explain eternity or even two hundred years to someone who had only lived thirty something? He was struggling after the Immortal’s revelations…. Two and a half thousand years…. Angelus had had two hundred and fifty with some change…. Darla four hundred… the master maybe seven but they were all babies compared to this ancient.
Yet now the Immortal named William Aurelius as brother, and had stepped in to ‘second’ him in what was the most significant shift in vampire rule across the world for five hundred years. Spike’s chest tightened and tears threatened as that thought came to rest. Two and a half thousand years and yet Anton had taken him – a slim blonde, hundred and sixty year young vampire - as brother…
But Master William Aurelius chose to let his consort worry for the moment. Reminding him any possibility of immortal status was redundant. Instead he nuzzled into his lover’s neck and fell into game face then pushed as much love and desire as he dared through the consort’s connection before offering his own dripping wrist and taking his partner’s neck exchanging enough blood to force the human to a relaxed to sleep. He would feed him master’s blood again upon waking to bolster his consort’s strength before meeting the court… until then, Spike simply cuddled the inert figure to his chest and joined him in slumber.