Summary: Dawn jumped into the portal and landed in Middle Earth just as the party at Bilbo's is getting started. She winds up taking the hobbits place as a way to pass the time till she can find a way to return home.
A/U: Set after The Gift
Pairing: Minor - Dawn/Legolas
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon owns Buffy. The Tolkien Estate and Middle Earth Enterprises each own a portion of The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings. From what I can tell the question who owns what though is not as clear cut.
Chapter 1: An Unexpected Party
"I'm sorry ..." Dawn said,
Buffy shook her head. "It doesn't matter. Nothing –" Dawn makes a break for it, tries to run back to the end of the platform. Buffy grabs her, pulls her back, gets between her and the end. "What are you doing?"
"I can end this." Dawn said.
Buffy shook her head. "No!"
"I have to jump. The energy –" Dawn stated knowing what she had to do.
"It'll kill you!" Buffy said.
Dawn nodded. "I know. Buffy, I know about the ritual! I have to stop it."
"No!" Buffy yelled.
Dawn sighed as she looked at her older sister. "I have to! Look at what's happening!" A rift opened as a huge dragon flew out, screaming. "Buffy –"
"I don't care! Dawn, I won't lose you –" Buffy said.
"You have to! You have to let me go! Blood starts it, and until the blood stops flowing it'll never stop. You know you have to let me ..." Dawn said as Buffy looks at her in despair - can she really let this happen? "It has to have the blood ..."
Buffy watched as she began to cry as Dawn kissed her on the cheek.
"I love you, Buffy. I will always love you." Dawn said. "I need you to promise me that you will live, for me."
Buffy nodded, "I promise. I love you too, Dawnie."
Dawn turned and ran swan diving off the edge of the platform down into the portal and then she vanished in a flash of white light.
Buffy made her way down the tower. Once she reached the bottom she looked for her sister's body, but she did not find it. She looked up at the sky at where the portal had been just moments before. "Stay safe, Dawnie. I will find you somehow."
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
"Hush!" said Gandalf. "Let Thorin speak!"
"Gandalf, dwarves and Mr. Baggins! We are met together in the house of our friend and fellow conspirator, this most excellent and audacious hobbit—may the hair on his toes never fall out! all praise to his wine and ale! We are met to discuss our plans, our ways, means, policy and devices. We shall soon before the break of day start on our long journey, a journey from which some of us, or perhaps all of us may never return. It is a solemn moment. Our object is, I take it, well known to us all. To the estimable Mr. Baggins, and perhaps to one or two of the younger dwarves, the exact situation at the moment may require a little brief explanation—"
"Excitable little fellow," said Gandalf. "Gets funny queer fits, but he is one of the best, one of the best—as fierce as a dragon in a pinch."
And suddenly much to the dwarves, and the hobbit's dismay something flashed and opened right in front of them. Gandalf stood and walked over to it and nodded. "It is a portal," he said as out flew a teenage girl almost knocking Gandalf over.
The girl looked around at the dwarves, Gandalf and the hobbit and shook her head. "Is this heaven?"
"No my dear," said Gandalf as he helped her to stand. "This is Mr. Baggins' home and you are in the Shire. Where is it you are from my dear?"
"Sunnydale, California," said Dawn as the dwarves and the hobbit looked at her strangely. They did not know of such a place.
But Gandalf did, during his many travels he had wound up on the world she had come from. "The Hellmouth," he said.
"You know where I'm from?" asked the girl.
"I do," said Gandalf. "In my travels I have actually been to your world. You have crossed the dimensional barriers between your Earth and what we call Middle Earth. What is your name my dear?"
"Dawn, Dawn Summers," said Dawn. "My sister is Buffy, she's the Slayer."
Gandalf nodded. "A worthwhile occupation," he said. He looked at Bilbo Baggins and knew the hobbit did not want to go on this quest. He then turned to Thorin. "Thorin, a moment if you please." He took Thorin aside and they talked several minutes in hushed tones before finally rejoining the group.
"It seems," Thorin said. "We will no longer need the services of Mr. Baggins. Ms. Summers will take his place as burglar."
Bilbo Baggins let out a sigh of relief.
"Will she do, do you think?" One of the dwarves asked.
"I have talked to Thorin and have persuaded him to take Miss Summers along. This way I will be able to help her to eventually return home and you will not be at an odd number," said Gandalf. So as not to take up anymore of Bilbo Baggins' time they left for a nearby inn.
At the inn in the light of a big lamp Gandalf spread a piece of parchment rather like a map. "This was …"
"Uhm excuse me," Dawn said. "I mean no offense. But since I'm to be accompanying you all. Can you please fill me in on this quest of yours?"
"Quite right," Gandalf said. "Thorin, if you would do the honors."
"You're right, Burglar Summers. You should know what you are getting yourself into," Thorin said. "Long ago in my grandfather Thror's time our family was driven out of the far North, and came back with all their wealth and their tools to this Mountain on the map. It had been discovered by my far ancestor, Thrain the Old, but now they mined and they tunneled and they made huger halls and greater workshops—and in addition I believe they found a good deal of gold and a great many jewels too. Anyway they grew immensely rich and famous, and my grandfather was King under the Mountain again, and treated with great reverence by the mortal men, who lived to the South, and were gradually spreading up the Running River as far as the valley overshadowed by the Mountain. They built the merry town of Dale there in those days. Kings used to send for our smiths, and reward even the least skillful most richly. Fathers would beg us to take their sons as apprentices, and pay us handsomely, especially in food-supplies, which we never bothered to grow or find for ourselves. Altogether those were good days for us, and the poorest of us had money to spend and to lend, and leisure to make beautiful things just for the fun of it, not to speak of the most marvelous and magical toys, the like of which is not to be found in the world now-a-days. So my grandfather's halls became full of armor and jewels and carvings and cups, and the toy market of Dale was the wonder of the North.
"Undoubtedly that was what brought the dragon. Dragons steal gold and jewels, you know, from men and elves and dwarves, wherever they can find them; and they guard their plunder as long as they live, and never enjoy a brass ring of it. Indeed they hardly know a good bit of work from a bad, though they usually have a good notion of the current market value; and they can't make a thing for themselves, not even mend a little loose scale of their armour. There were lots of dragons in the North in those days, and gold was probably getting scarce up there, with the dwarves flying south or getting killed, and all the general waste and destruction that dragons make going from bad to worse. There was a most specially greedy, strong and wicked worm called Smaug. One day he flew up into the air and came south. The first we heard of it was a noise like a hurricane coming from the North, and the pine-trees on the Mountain creaking and cracking in the wind. Some of the dwarves who happened to be outside—well, from a good way off we saw the dragon settle on our mountain in a spout of flame. Then he came down the slopes and when he reached the woods they all went up in fire. By that time all the bells were ringing in Dale and the warriors were arming. The dwarves rushed out of their great gate; but there was the dragon waiting for them. None escaped that way. The river rushed up in steam and a fog fell on Dale, and in the fog the dragon came on them and destroyed most of the warriors—the usual unhappy story, it was only too common in those days. Then he went back and crept in through the Front Gate and routed out all the halls, and lanes, and tunnels, alleys, cellars, mansions and passages. After that there were no dwarves left alive inside, and he took all their wealth for himself. Probably, for that is the dragons' way, he has piled it all up in a great heap far inside, and sleeps on it for a bed. Later he used to crawl out of the great gate and come by night to Dale, and carry away people, especially maidens, to eat, until Dale was ruined, and all the people dead or gone. What goes on there now I don't know for certain, but I don't suppose any one lives nearer to the Mountain than the far edge of the Long Lake now-a-days."
"The few of us that were well outside sat and wept in hiding, and cursed Smaug; and there we were unexpectedly joined by my father and my grandfather with singed beards. They looked very grim but they said very little. When I asked how they had got away, they told me to hold my tongue, and said that one day in the proper time I should know. After that we went away, and we have had to earn our livings as best we could up and down the lands, often enough sinking as low as blacksmith-work or even coalmining. But we have never forgotten our stolen treasure. And even now, when I will allow we have a good bit laid by and are not so badly off"—here Thorin stroked the gold chain round his neck—"we still mean to get it back, and to bring our curses home to Smaug—if we can."
Thorin looked to Gandalf and motioned toward the parchment.
Gandalf nodded. "Now this was made by Thror, your grandfather, Thorin," he said. "It is a plan of the Mountain."
"I don't see that this will help us much," said Thorin disappointedly after a glance. "I remember the Mountain well enough and the lands about it. And I know where Mirkwood is, and the Withered Heath where the great dragons bred."
"There is a dragon marked in red on the Mountain," said Balin, "but it will be easy enough to find him without that, if ever we arrive there."
"There is one point that you haven't noticed," Gandalf continued, "and that is the secret entrance. You see that rune on the West side, and the hand pointing to it from the other runes? That marks a hidden passage to the Lower Halls."
"It may have been secret once," said Thorin, "but how do we know that it is secret any longer? Old Smaug has lived there long enough now to find out anything there is to know about those caves."
"He may—but he can't have used it for years and years."
"Why?"
"Because it is too small. 'Five feet high the door and three may walk abreast' say the runes, but Smaug could not creep into a hole that size, not even when he was a young dragon, certainly not after devouring so many of the dwarves and men of Dale. But in what way this one has been hidden we don't know without going to see. From what it says on the map I should guess there is a closed door which has been made to look exactly like the side of the Mountain. That is the usual dwarves' method—I think that is right, isn't it?"
"Quite right," said Thorin.
"Also," went on Gandalf, "I forgot to mention that with the map went a key, a small and curious key. Here it is!" he said, and handed to Thorin a key with a long barrel and intricate wards, made of silver. "Keep it safe!"
"Indeed I will," said Thorin, and he fastened it upon a fine chain that hung about his neck and under his jacket. "Now things begin to look more hopeful. This news alters them much for the better. So far we have had no clear idea what to do. We thought of going East, as quiet and careful as we could, as far as the Long Lake. After that the trouble would begin—."
"A long time before that, if I know anything about the roads East," interrupted Gandalf.
"We might go from there up along the River Running," went on Thorin taking no notice, "and so to the ruins of Dale—the old town in the valley there, under the shadow of the Mountain. But we none of us liked the idea of the Front Gate. The river runs right out of it through the great cliff at the South of the Mountain, and out of it comes the dragon too—far too often, unless he has changed his habits."
"That would be no good," said Gandalf, "not without a mighty Warrior, even a Hero. I tried to find one; but warriors are busy fighting one another in distant lands, and in this neighborhood heroes are scarce, or simply not to be found. Swords in these parts are mostly blunt, and axes are used for trees, and shields as cradles or dish-covers; and dragons are comfortably far-off. That is why I settled on burglary—especially when I remembered the existence of a Side-door. And here is Dawn Summers, the burglar, the chosen and selected burglar."
"I have often wondered about my father's and my grandfather's escape. I see now they must have had a private Side-door which only they knew about. But apparently they made a map, and I should like to know how Gandalf got hold of it, and why it did not come down to me, the rightful heir."
"I did not 'get hold of it,' I was given it," said Gandalf. "Your grandfather Thror was killed, you remember, in the mines of Moria by Azog the Goblin."
"Curse his name, yes," said Thorin.
"And Thrain your father went away on the twenty-first of April, a hundred years ago last Thursday, and has never been seen by you since–"
"True, true," said Thorin.
"Well, your father gave me this to give to you; and if I have chosen my own time and way for handing it over, you can hardly blame me, considering the trouble I had to find you. Your father could not remember his own name when he gave me the paper, and he never told me yours; so on the whole I think I ought to be praised and thanked! Here it is," said he handing the map to Thorin.
"I don't understand," said Thorin, and Dawn felt she would have liked to say the same.
"Your grandfather," said Gandalf slowly and grimly, "gave the map to his son for safety before he went to the mines of Moria. Your father went away to try his luck with the map after your grandfather was killed; and lots of adventures of a most unpleasant sort he had, but he never got near the Mountain. How he got there I don't know, but I found him a prisoner in the dungeons of the Necromancer."
"Whatever were you doing there?" asked Thorin with a shudder, and all the dwarves shivered.
"Never you mind. I was finding things out, as usual; and a nasty dangerous business it was. Even I, Gandalf, only just escaped. I tried to save your father, but it was too late. He was witless and wandering, and had forgotten almost everything except the map and the key."
"We have long ago paid the goblins of Moria," said Thorin; "we must give a thought to the Necromancer."
"Don't be absurd! He is an enemy far beyond the powers of all the dwarves put together, if they could all be collected again from the four corners of the world. The one thing your father wished was for his son to read the map and use the key. The dragon and the Mountain are more than big enough tasks for you!"
"I quite agree," said Dawn. "If one thing I have learned from my sister is this. You don't want to bite off more than you can chew. If she had well I might not be here now."
"I think we have talked long enough for one night," said Gandalf. "We do not want to overwhelm Miss Summers."
Dawn smiled at Gandalf and nodded. "Thank you," she said. "I am rather tired. Before falling through that portal I had been up most of the night and the day prior and am quite tired."