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i want the fire back

Dear old/new followers: 

Thank you for following me to my emergency backup blog. The obligatory buffy au has been sitting in my drafts for a while, and tonight it is for you. <3 


It begins with a prophecy, because of course it does.

Stop me if you’ve heard this one before: the Chosen One will bring balance to the galaxy. 

How about this one: To each generation there is a Slayer. She alone will stand against the vampires, and the forces of darkness. One girl in all the galaxy. 

The last Slayer to be called before the fall of the Old Republic is fourteen years old, and the queen of Naboo. 

In these elegant, civilized times, a delicate series of spells alerts the Jedi Council of the exact moment when Padmé Amidala stumbles in her ready room, an ecstatic rush of something filling her up. 

(The first thing a Watcher teaches his Slayer is shielding. Until she learns it, every ugly thing within a system’s reach knows her, feels her, is drawn to her fledgling power. If a Slayer is unlucky enough to be called on a planet with no Jedi within a few days’ reach, she often doesn’t last a month.) 

The nearest Jedi Knight is sent to Naboo with his Padawan, to find the girl and safeguard her to Coruscant, where she can be safely bound to a Watcher. They have to break through a trade blockade to do so, but the Jedi are above political affairs. If the Slayer is a queen when she is Called, her sacred duty must trump her political duty. 

Padmé disagrees, and instead of quietly spiriting the girl away to the Temple, Qui-Gon Jinn and Obi-Wan Kenobi find themselves breaking free of the blockade with a ship-of-the-line, the queen’s personal security force, a handful of her most trusted advisors, a complement of palace droids, and ten of the queen’s handmaidens. The hyperdrive is leaking. Padmé is worried and elated at the same time. 

There is no pretense that she is not the Queen. She is the Slayer. She brought down ten Federation vampires without breaking a sweat, sheer exhilaration on her face.

She comes with the Jedi to Tattooine, and unerringly leads them to the parts they need and to a young slave boy, a dirty bandage over his neck and wrists where his Master sups. 

“Are you an angel?” the boy asks the Slayer, and she laughs at him. He tries to explain: “It’s just–you’re shining. I’ve never seen anybody shine like you before.” 

The Slayer is burning with the power of being newly Chosen. The boy glows even more brightly at her side, twin bonfires smiling at each other, drawing every evil thing on the planet their way. 

The Jedi try not to panic. 

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