Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings and the characters within do not belong to me. Buffy the Vampire Slayer and the characters within do not belong to me. Kestrel, does belong to me. This is a work of fiction for enjoyment and not profit.
Chapter 2 – The Scythe
I will admit that running isn't one of my most favorite things to do. While I had become better at the exercise during my six months with the Slayers, I still hated to do it for long periods of time. Unfortunately that was ALL we were doing. For a day and a night we ran. I became winded quickly but kept going. I'd be damned if I was be seen as a hindrance to their progress.
I took comfort in the fact that Gimli didn't seem to be any more suited to running than I was. He struggled along and I kept pace with him for no other reason than he was keeping me good company. We talked to each other as the four of us ran. He brought me up to speed on their travels so far and how they came to be sprinting across the vast waste of land we found ourselves in. Oftentimes our statements were short and cut at odd intervals as we took gasps of chill air.
I had taken my blue hooded sweatshirt out of the backpack and put it on during the night. It was a nice trick taking it out of the pack and shrugging it on while running but Gimli helped me by carrying the pack and then helping me up when I stumbled and fell in my haste to get the sweatshirt over my head while running blinded by thick cotton.
He was kind enough to keep that little folly from the other two, knowing that it would embarrass me.
I admit that aside from the interesting conversation, keeping pace with Gimli gave me an excuse to take it slower than I could have.
"We dwarfs are natural sprinters!" He explained to me as I huffed and puffed next to him. "We are wasted on distances…"
Right.
We ran into a shallow gorge and Aragorn suddenly stooped and picked up an object from the trampled earth.
"Not idly do the leaves of Lorien fall," he said in his usual soft voice.
"They may yet be alive," Legolas offered in hope.
"Less then a day ahead of us. Come!" Aragorn said as he took off running again. How the heck does he know that?
"Come, Gimli! Kestrel! We are gaining on them!" Legolas shouted back to us. We had just come over the rise when Gimli stumbled and rolled down the shallow hill. It was my turn to help him up but he bounced back quickly and we kept running
"I am wasted on cross-country!" he grumbled loudly so that now Legolas and Aragorn could hear. "We dwarves are natural sprinters! Very dangerous over short distances! Just ask Kestrel!"
"Yes," I added, dryly between pants of air. "He's been telling me all about it…for the past day!"
We crested a hill and Aragorn stopped running suddenly. Gimli and I caught up to him in time to hear him say, "Rohan. Home of the horse-lords. There is something strange at work here. Some evil gives speed to these creatures, sets its will against us."
Legolas had run ahead of us and stood atop the next rise, "Legolas, what do you Elf eyes see?" Aragorn shouted to him.
Legolas squinted out into the land and shouted back, "The Uruks turn northeast. They're taking the hobbits to Isengard!"
I ran to catch up with Legolas and stopped next to him, panting for breath. "Where's that?" I asked. I tried to squint into the far distance as well but couldn't see anything besides blue sky, waving long grasses and distant mountains.
"Home of an evil wizard named Saruman, he is in league with our enemy Sauron," Legolas quickly said.
Well…that explains everything…
We set off at a run again and I did my best to keep up with the Elf. "Maybe that's why they took Willow!" I shouted as we ran. "She's a powerful witch! She used her magic to fight the orcs before she was taken! She brought us here!"
I lost my breath while trying to shout and run, I lost footing and stumbled not seeing the hole in the ground until it was too late.
I fell into a different kind of darkness and heard the surprised cries of my traveling companions as the earth rushed up to meet me.
It wasn't far to fall but I landed badly and got the wind knocked out of me. After a frantic second when I thought my head wound had split open again, I looked around and realized that I had fallen into a hole of some sort.
"Kestrel!" Legolas' voice called from above me. "Are you alright?"
I looked up and saw that I had only fallen about six or seven feet into the earth. My trio of orc hunters gathered around the hole and looked down at me worry on their faces.
I sighed and climbed to my feet. "What is it with me and hurting myself on this trip?" I asked, exasperated, to no one in particular.
"We'll be right down! Don't move!" Aragorn called, he turned and started to climb down into the hole with me.
"NO no! I'm not hurt, just bruised up," I explained loudly. "Don't come down. I don't know if we can get back out."
My words were too late, though. Aragorn dropped easily to the ground next to me. I heard a rope slap on the oddly smooth stone floor and looked up again to see Gimli and Legolas sliding down into the hole as well.
"The rope will allow us to climb out," Aragorn explained.
"Of course," I said, dryly, "Silly me."
"It is dark," Legolas observed, his eyes squinting in an effort to cut through the darkness.
"Thank you, master of the obvious," I commented while I rummaged through my pack. The fall, and subsequent blow to my pride, had made me sarcastic. I pulled a flashlight out of my bag and clicked it on.
"And the Lord said, 'Let there be Mag-lite, and it was good!'" I quipped, trying to lighten the mood. A well timed funny comment worked at home, why not here?
My three new companions jumped back in shock as the flashlight came on. Briefly ignoring them, I swept it back and forth trying to make out the shape of the space we now occupied. At first glance it looked to be a hollow hill. Very King Arthur.
"What manner of magic is that?" Gimli demanded, half curious and half afraid of the light wand.
I look at him, confused. The dim bulb of my addled brain brightened and I realized that these people did not know what electricity was. How dumb am I? They dressed like they were straight out of the Renaissance Faire; it would follow that they would not understand technological advances.
I had better keep my MP3 player tucked safely out of sight, then.
"It's a flashlight," I explained, and held it out for Gimli to take. "Here, it won't bite you."
The Dwarf hesitated but grasped the metal barrel of the flashlight firmly, swinging the beam in several different directions to get the feel of it. "It's heavy," he observed.
"Yeah, where I come from police use these both to light the darkness and as blunt weapons," I explained. Ah the many uses of a good Mag-lite.
"Police?" Aragorn asked.
"Law enforcement?" I offered lamely. His face showed understanding at that explanation.
"What is that?" Gimli cried cutting off anything else Aragorn might have asked. I whirled my head towards the spot Gimli indicated.
Highlighted by the circle of light the flashlight threw, was the Scythe, embedded partway in the curved rock of the wall, gleaming in the light. It looked sharp and powerful. It called to that something inside me which made me a Slayer. My world shrank down so that I saw nothing else but that beautiful weapon.
"It is the Crist uin Dagnir," Legolas intoned in wonder, stepping forward.
"The Crist uin Dagnir?" questioned Aragorn, "But that is just a myth. The weapon of the Dagnir does not exist."
"The myth stands in front of you," I said. My voice sounded distant to my own ears. My feet carried me forward to the weapon. "This is the Scythe, the weapon of the Slayers." My hand reached out before me, drawn to the power of the weapon as if caught in a vortex.
"Wait!" Aragorn said, running forward and gripping my wrist even as I reached for the Scythe. "We do not know what this really is. It may be some trick of Saruman's crafting."
I looked at him as though he had sprouted two heads. "Excuse me! I didn't travel through space, time and untold dimensions looking for this thing just to be put off now! This is the Scythe. It can only be wielded by a Slayer. I am a Slayer. Now let me go!"
"There is no such thing as Slayers! There never has been in all of recorded history. The Dagnir is a legend proved false long ago," Aragorn tried to explain; his eyes holding mine even as I tried to look around him at the Scythe.
"I don't know who this 'Dagnir' is, but welcome to history in the making," I snarled at him. Stepping back into a wider stance, I used the momentum to turn and twist my wrist out of his strong grip. It wasn't a feat of obvious strength on my part, I had tried to keep that on the down low so far, but more a leverage and physics move Faith had showed me. It shocked Aragorn enough that I was able to evade his grasp against his wishes.
"And if this is the Crist uin Dagnir as you say it is," said Legolas calmly, moving to stand between Aragorn and me before we came to blows, "What will you do with it?"
I met his beautiful blue gaze and sighed, his presence calming me like a balm. "I don't know yet. We came here, Willow and I, to find the Scythe and bring it back to our world, but now I don't now if that's such a good idea. You guys have troubles of your own to deal with. Maybe you could use it here as well."
These thoughts had been nagging at me for the last day and night as we ran together. After all, this Scythe belonged to Middle Earth, who were we in assuming we could just up and take it where ever we chose. Who knows what damage we could do by removing the Scythe from its rightful place? Who knows what good it would do in this world if wielded properly?
"Time is short, Kestrel," Aragorn bit out, "If you intend to take this weapon with you, then do it quickly."
I looked up at the hole we had come through, noticing that the light of day was fading quickly. More time had gone by than I had thought while we were down here.
Lowering my head again, I noticed that the Mag-lite was resting on the stone floor of the hill, the beam shooting off in a haphazard angle. Gimli now hung from the handle of the Scythe, feet braced against the curved wall, pulling on it with obvious strength, grunting with his efforts, but not getting anywhere with it. The Scythe held firm in its spot, defying him.
I bent down, picked up the flashlight and handed it to Legolas. After a brief hesitation the Elf took the metal instrument and trained the beam on the Scythe as Gimli had done before. Passing a stern looking Aragorn, I walked up to Gimli.
"Hon, it's a Slayer's weapon so only a Slayer can move it from its resting place," I explained, resting a hand on the Dwarf's shoulder.
He gave one more solid tug before dropping back to the ground. Wiping sweat from his hairy brow, he stepped back and gestured that I should try, though it was obvious that he didn't believe I could do any better than he.
I smiled and winked at the Dwarf, grabbed the Scythe firmly in both hands, and lifted it easily out of the wall.
The sound of metal sliding against rock echoed through the chamber. Power surged up my arms and then back down into the Scythe. The weapon called to me and I answered.
It was about four feet in length with a metal haft. The end was pointed, wooden with a metal tip, to represent a stake. The top was a wicked, curved blade which looked deadly sharp. A grooved was cut into the back of the blade to reveal another hand hold. I just held the weapon for a moment, admiring its lines and beauty, and then stepped back from my companions. They watched me intently, all showing differing levels of expectation, awe and mistrust. I spun the Scythe in my right hand and the blade cut through the air cleanly, whistling as it went.
I grinned, looking up to my companions. Gimli looked floored and he bowed to me fully. "Lady Dagnir, you truly have come at last!"
His words unsettled me. I wasn't some fulfillment of a long forgotten legend, I was just me. Wasn't I?
"So…I've got what I came for. Maybe we should climb out and chase down those orcs again," I offered, partly because I was embarrassed from all the attention I was getting now, but mostly due to the fact that I knew my little side adventure was costing us valuable time.
"Now that you have…it," Aragorn said, "Will you leave us?" His piercing gaze held me to my spot and I was forced to think about my future plans.
"Well, I can't just leave," I began, "Not without Willow, at least. She's how I GOT here."
Aragorn didn't seem convinced so my eyes left his hard stare and found a more pleasing sight in Legolas. He stood with his arms crossed in front of him, totally closed off, head bowed towards the ground. I stopped and a fleeting thought crossed my mind. Did I really want to leave?
Geez why wouldn't I want to leave? I had a life back in my world and I couldn't just think to stay here because some gorgeous, perfect, beautiful Elf-man with the sexy voice and the amazing body happened to catch my eye. That's not a reason!
Not a reason at all…
Right.
Just because they seemed on the verge of the war to end all wars and could probably use my help and the power of the Scythe on their side wasn't an excuse to think about settling down, building a nice house on about twenty acres of land and popping out little half-Elf kids! I was being silly. Just silly!
Speaking of the gorgeous Elf-man, he was speaking and I was missing it due to my wool-gathering.
"…one step at time. Let us find the orcs who took our friends. That is the most important thing."
Aragorn only nodded. He turned on his heel and quickly shimmied up the rope and out of the hollow hill. I could tell he was pissed off, probably at me.
"I don't think he likes me," I said more to myself than anything. Gimli patted me on the arm, "Don't worry lass, he'll warm up to you. He's got a lot on his mind."
Somehow that didn't make me feel better.
We took turns climbing up the rope, hoisting Gimli up and out of the hill last as Dwarfs are not any better at rope climbing than they are at cross-country running.
