The Ties That Bind (11/34 + Epilogue)

[madbottoms]

Title: The Ties That Bind - Part 11
Beta: Blackcat1000
Characters/Pairings: Jack/Ianto, Donna, John Hart, Owen and James Harper, Mickey/Martha, Toshiko/Tommy, Claudia, Phillip, Saxon, Rhiannon, OCs
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 75K+
Warnings/Contains: Explicit sex (does that need a warning?), witchcraft, horror, supernatural themes, character death.

Summary: Ianto is a powerful magical warrior, one which Jack Harkness has never been able to resist. Once enemies, then almost lovers, he broke his heart. Years later, Jack must return to his hometown and seek help before it is too late. Jack and Ianto must now put aside their past and work together to defeat an evil threatening to overwhelm and take control of Jack because of his unique bloodline. Secrets and foretold prophecies will plague them and in this paranormal battle, they will need more than magic to survive.
A/N:  We get a glimpse of Rhiannon and the Master in this short chapter.

 
 

Chapter Eleven

Sometimes, being dead was better.

 

Rhiannon Jones-Davies knew it was a strange idea, but was afraid it might be true. Whenever anyone had asked Donna about the man she’d lost when she was a young woman, Rhiannon had heard her say the part that hurt the most was living on, when you shouldn’t be alive. That it was the continued empty existence when those you loved were already gone that could grind you down. Change you. Turn you into something that you weren’t.

 

Donna must have been right, because look at what had become of her niece. Rhiannon was in a hell of her own creation, and one that was becoming more macabre with each day that passed by.

 

She was currently standing in the middle of a field in England, the night winds snarling through her hair, whipping it painfully against her face. A face she doubted her loved ones would even recognise, her once pleasant features now ravaged by the memories of what she’d lost…and the horrible things that she’d done.

 

The field lay silent and empty, but for her and the four figures huddled in its centre, standing over a man’s body. Overhead, the full moon watched on like an avid spectator, too shocked to turn away from the gruesome display of savagery taking place down below.

 

It was 3:00 a.m. The witching hour. When things best left to the dark often came out to play.

 

On the ground lay a Pharis male who was living within the body of a human host, his arms and legs spread wide, his hands and feet nailed to the ground with heavy iron spikes. He’d been cruelly tortured, chunks of flesh missing from his torso and limbs, and she shuddered in shame at the broken, mewling sounds of agony that spilled from his throat.

 

Beside her, the Master gave a low, demonic laugh and shook his head. “Listen to that whimpering. I should have known that even in death you’d be weak, Martin.”

 

“You have no right to do this,” the Pharis cried, straining against the spikes that held him in place. “I’ve been loyal to you! I’ve followed all your commands!”

 

“Really?” the Master’s brows lifted with challenge. “Did you or did you not fail to capture Gray and Thomas Harkness before the Guardians hid them away?”

 

The tortured Pharis coughed, choking on a mouthful of blood, his gaze wild with pain. “I couldn’t get there in time. That’s not my fault!”

 

A cold, maniacal smile lifted the edge of the Master’s mouth. “Oh? So I’m supposed to be lenient because you’re incompetent?”

 

“You can’t do this!” Martin roared, struggling to lift his head from the blood-soaked ground. “You need all the Pharis soldiers you can find. After what happened in the Veil, our numbers are too low to lose another.”

 

“I’d rather have a strong few than legions of weaklings,” the Master snarled. “And I can, I assure you, do anything that I want. Just ask our lovely little witch here.”

 

He smiled as he said the words, the curve of his lips pulling awkwardly at the decomposing flesh of his face. He blamed Rhiannon for the gruesome condition of his body, because of the way she’d ripped him from the Veil. Of course, he’d have likely been killed in the battle, had she not kidnapped him, but that argument had done little to change his mind. As she had quickly learned, there was no reasoning with a monster. And the Master was one of the most evil, despicable beings he’d ever encountered. Which was why she needed him.

 

But first, she needed him strong.

 

Rhiannon wasn’t sure why the Master and the three shades who had followed him through the portal had been so traumatized by the incident. Perhaps it had been the portal itself. She was hardly an expert where the metaphysical doorways were concerned, her ability to make them a skill she’d only recently acquired, as her understanding of the workings of dark magic grew stronger. For that reason, the Master refused to allow her to ‘pull’ him through another one.

 

However, the portal might not have been the problem at all. Another possibility was the fact that the Master and his men had begun regenerating while still trapped inside the Veil, gaining substance from the Guardians they had killed, then fed on, during the battle.

 

Whatever the cause, the result was a problem he’d been forced to deal with. Though the Master had tried to simply continue the regeneration of his true form, the process had failed. It was as if his shade no longer knew how to exist in this realm. He and the others had been forced to take the bodies of the closest human hosts they could find, but they had yet to succeed in retaining one for long. No matter what kind of fortification spells Rhiannon tried, the host’s flesh began to decay from the moment they slipped inside.

 

Using her powers, she had been helping the four of them to move from one body to the next, and they were steadily regaining their strength. But it was a slow process, and the Master was anxious to get on with his plans.

 

“Considering you came back a failure,” he said to Martin, “I’d say it proves that you’re not only incompetent, but stupid, as well. And we can’t have any weak links in this war. However…you will have the opportunity to redeem yourself.”

 

“What?” Martin gasped. “What the hell are you talking about? How?”

 

The wind tore across the field as the Master explained. “Now that the gate to the Veil has been broken, our shades can no longer return there. But neither can it send you to hell without one of those amulets. So, when this body you’re in dies, your shade will simply be forced to find another host.”

 

“So then this is just for fun?” Martin demanded, still struggling to break free. “You deranged son of a bitch!”

 

The Master laughed and clapped his hands. “Oh, it’s always fun.’ But then his eyes narrowed. “This is to teach you a lesson so that you don’t make the same mistake twice. Weakness will not be tolerated.”

 

Suddenly, the man’s gaze cut to hers, and Rhiannon flinched at the blast of hatred pouring from his pale blue eyes. “You honestly think he’s going to keep his end of the bargain you made with him?”

 

“He’ll keep it,” she whispered, her voice steady, devoid of emotion. “Or I’ll kill him.”

 

“You’ll never get the chance,” he growled.

 

“That’s enough!” the Master barked, cutting him off. Then he nodded to the others, giving them permission to begin their feeding. As the other Pharis began ripping Martin to pieces, Rhiannon turned her face away, unable to stomach the gruesome sight.

 

She’d made a deal with the devil, and she’d burn for it, eventually. But there were some things in life worth burning for, and she’d once had one of them. And now she wanted it back. Even if it was just for a day. For an hour.

 

After she’d lost her last accomplice, the Pharis named Adam Smith, she could have given up and gone home. But when she’d tried, she...couldn’t. She wanted her baby back too badly. Wanted her husband. Her family. If she had to go to Heaven and Hell to get them, she was willing. So she’d gone after the leader. Gone after the Master, himself.

 

Now, all she had to do was ensure the Master continued to regain his strength, until he was strong enough to take the body he wanted. And what he wanted was Jack Harkness. He wanted the man who had dared to come after him. Wanted to break him down, then take him over.

 

Only then would the bastard get her back what she wanted.

 

“Poor Rhiannon.” The Master’s icy hand touched her chin, lifting her face until she was looking him in the eye. Despite the ice-blue colour, his gaze reminded her of a shark’s. Soulless and cold. “You look positively green, my dear.”

 

“You’ll have to forgive me for not rejoicing in such a vulgar act.”

 

“A few more killings, and I’ll be strong enough. It’s time for you to collect the Harkness’ for me.” He slid a disappointed glance at the ground, where his men were still feeding. “I can’t trust the others to make this happen on their own. They need your help.”

 

“I understand.”

 

His gaze locked with hers once more. “Fail me, and I promise you’ll never see that man of yours again.”

 

“I will not fail.” Her voice was hollow, the complete opposite of the fast, happy notes that had always made her husband smile. He’d been big and gruff and so in love with her she hadn’t known what to do with all the happiness. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe she’d had so much it had upset the balance in nature, and so she’d lost everything to even the score. She didn’t know the why or the reasons. All she knew was that she wanted her family back.

 

And she was willing to do whatever it took to get them.

 

 

 

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