Disclaimer: I own nothing of Tolkien's works, however all original characters and story concepts solely belong to me. The Grigori and all documented characters associated with them belong in the public domain. Any references to the original book, The Serpent and the Peacock are copyrighted to A Selby. Any references to the world created by Joss Whedon belong to him.
Author Note: Againmany apologies for the delay in posting another chapter. I am out of hospital now, but have had a major bout of chemo brain which is a bit like pregnancy brain. You forget things and can't concentrate properly. I will be going back into hospital in January for a stem cell transplant, we have a good donor and hopefully this will greatly increase my chances of remaining in long term remission or having a cure for the leukaemia. My counts are back up to normal at the moment and my energy levels are slowly getting there, although I have a string of really good days and a few bad days at the moment.
My book, the printed version of The Serpent and the Peacock is now available also on but not unfortunately in the UK yet. I have found a UK distributor and as soon as I get the energy to sort it out, it will be hopefully on sale in Amazon UK. At the moment you can buy it from . You can also buy it from the US, the shipping is more of course but you can get it. The sequel The Paths of the Moon in which the story of Semjaza is continued along with existing character from the first book and brand new characters should be available on in a few months.
Thank you so much once again for your never-ending patience and many apologies for the delay.
ooOoo
"Guardian: One way or another, it can only mean an end is truly near.
Caleb: I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that last part, on account of her neck snapping and all. Did she say the end is near, or here? "
- Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Chosen
ooOoo
The Hellmouth
Chapter 8 – A Most Peculiar Bunch
A large manor house some five miles from the Scottish town of Loch Mairie...
"Go an' talk to him."
"You go and talk to him."
"It was your idea..."
"I only said we should 'cos I thought you wouldn't dare."
"So you were daring me?" The voice sounded louder and a little annoyed to Finrod who was standing, hands clasped lightly behind his back, on the front steps of the manor staring out into the darkness of the grounds beyond.
He knew they were there of course, two of the younger slayers in training hiding in the shadows out of plain sight, but then human plain sight is not Elven plain sight and he could see and hear them quite clearly. It was amusing to listen to them arguing among themselves as to who should approach him first and in his pre reborn days he would have been very curious and approached them himself. However a few years in the Metropolitan Police had ensured he was now used to the sometimes breath-taking effect he seemed to have on mortal females, and a few males it had to be said. His beautifully sculpted lips curved up into a small, impish smile.
Finrod was a vastly different person now to the one he had been in ancient Middle-earth or Aman after his rebirth but he could still enjoy the moment and he still had much of the naughtiness that he and Glorfindel had displayed after being reborn... a naughtiness that had caused Lord Namo and his brother Irmo to practically develop grey hairs on occasions. Or at the very least led them to want to tear lumps of their hair out in despair. (1)
He debated on whether he should say something to them and decided to wait and see what ensued.
"He's got pointy ears." The first voice sounded awestruck.
The second person was apparently not impressed. "So has the bloke upstairs with the long silver hair. Kel... Kellibon or something like that."
There was a moment's silence,. "Has he? Ooo... I didn't know that. Do they all come from the same family do you think? They're all pretty tasty hunks... that really tall soldier guy in the library was fuckin' awesome to look at..." Her voice broke off with a squawk as a hard hand came down on her shoulders.
"Yep they sure are pretty tasty pieces of salty goodness." Senior Slayer Faith's husky tones intervened. "But what I would like to know is why you are out here after curfew. You know the rules ..." She lowered her voice, unaware that Finrod could still hear her clearly. "...No slayers out after dark unless on patrol with seniors, especially not with our girls disappearing. You want that to happen to you?"
The two young slayers both gulped and shook their heads.
"Thought not." Faith's husky voice sounded more than a trifle smug. "Get going then, before the Slayer on duty notices you're not in your rooms."
The two girls instantly made themselves scarce, but not without a backward glance at the seemingly unconcerned Finrod. He hadn't shifted from his original position and there was no indication that he had even heard the whispered conversation. His back was to the door and so even Faith didn't see the mischievous smile on the handsome elf's face.
There was a minute's silence, but he knew that Faith was still there looking at him. He could even detect that there was a frown creasing her brow and he waited for the inevitable comment.
"Sorry about that." She said.
He turned to her without a smile and with one golden eyebrow raised. "Why do you apologise to me, child of the Atani?"
Faith's mouth dropped open. "Child of the what...who?"
"Atani is the Quenya name for the Race of Men" Finrod supplied. "The Atani were also known as the second-born in times past."
Faith's brow creased even more ferociously. "Whaddya mean... men were second-born? Do you mean after the monkeys or somethin'?"
Now it was Finrod's turn to look perturbed. "Monkeys?"
"Yeah, like apes, primitive men were like apes, at least that's what I think it means...eva...eva...eva something."
"Faith means on the evolutionary scale Lord Findarato." Giles's quiet voice interrupted the conversation. He stepped out of the doorway behind Faith. "It has long been the contention scientifically that humans share their ancestry with the monkey or the ape since there are so many similarities physiologically and that they evolved into what they are today. Most humans these days aren't even aware that the Second-born were so called because they arrived after the Elves awoke at Cuivenen. Indeed, only Eru knows what their origins were because by the time you found the first group of men, they were already fairly well advanced from their origins. This world is far older than most people realise." He broke off and smiled at Faith. "I think Buffy might be looking for you Faith."
Faith rolled her eyes as she headed back into the house. "Okay, sure thing Boss." She cast a look back at Finrod. "Sorry again bub. I'll make sure the girls don't bother you again."
Finrod and Giles watched Faith as she sauntered back. Finrod looked confused.
"Bub?"
Giles chuckled. "Ah, Faith and the great and sometimes hideous American vernacular. Bub...now how would I describe what a Bub is? Let me see... it's a term of familiar address, usually used for a man or a boy. I rather imagine that it's a shortening of the word brother." He looked at the elf. "Were the girls bothering you?"
Finrod sighed. "No...they were merely curious and I didn't mind. They are young still."
Giles sighed. "Unfortunately they grow older far too quickly in their line of work." There was a slightly bitter tinge to his voice.
Finrod stared at Giles. There seemed little left of the Dark Lord that he had been as described by those who had both fled Sauron's attempt to take over Endore and who had fought against him there and yet there was something about his eyes that seemed so familiar. Who was it that this man who had been a Maia once reminded him of?
Giles bore the Elven Prince's scrutiny without expression or reaction. He remembered Finrod from Valinor of course. As the eldest child of Arafinwe and Earwen, both the children of Kings, the newborn princeling had been duly presented to the Valar after birth and although Giles had not been Aule's head Maia and in attendance on his Lord at that presentation, he had been present. He heaved an inward sigh. It was all such a damnably long time ago and yet it also just seemed like yesterday. He could still picture Arafinwe's pride as he showed the Valar the first fruits of his and his wife's union, but he hadn't missed the slight look of restlessness on King Finwe's face even as his new grandson was the centre of attention. As always, Finwe's thoughts had probably been with his first-born, Feanor. None of his children by Indis had taken a place of such importance in Finwe's world as the one known as the Spirit of Fire, his son by Miriel Serinde, his first wife. Feanor had also been Lord Aule's pride and joy, and it was often remarked by Aule's Maiar, of which Giles had been one, that the Vala Smith had invested much in the child and then the adult and his remarkable abilities.
Feanor had eventually created something wonderful in the Silmarils, something nobody else had created and that creation had even surpassed the creation of his own children. Ultimately that creation of the jewels had set in motion a chain of horrific events that would rock both Valinor and Middle-earth and lead to great mistrust in the Noldor from Lord Aule. Who would have thought that day, as the squalling Elven newborn with his fuzz of silver-gold hair was proudly passed around the doting parents and the Valar, that Prince Findarato would choose to follow his Uncle into Endore and would eventually rule his own kingdom only to end up being torn apart by wolves in his own tower saving a warrior from the race of Men.
"I imagine that my presence is not the most welcome one in your life." He finally said hesitantly.
Finrod, who had been lost in his own thoughts, stared at the former fallen Maia thoughtfully. "In truth, it was Melkor who was most unwelcome when I realised that he was here in a dis-incarnated form. I find myself wondering what he is up to."
"He is not to be trusted in any form." Giles said shortly. "And he's already caused more than enough grief for both me and the Slayers in the form of the First Evil, however, it's fairly obvious that his wings have been clipped by Lord Ulmo and the Senior Partners both and that someone or something is trying to use him to manipulate events here in Middle-earth, Valinor and in the Timeless Halls and to my mind that make this someone a lot more dangerous than him at the moment."
"How many?"
Giles was startled at the abrupt question. "How many what?"
"How many of your young slayers have disappeared?" Finrod asked patiently.
Giles leaned against one of the stone pillars that formed the portico above the entrance to the manor house. "Far too many. We always knew we would lose some of them in the fight against the vampires and demons, but eventually we realised that the losses were often during times and in circumstances that were not attributable to either. I think it was probably only a few months ago that we realised that the slayers were being culled." His lips twisted in both anger and distress. "As for actual numbers, well...at least a hundred so far. At the beginning we just counted them in with the expected losses, so it may well be a few more. It's now got to the stage where there are less and less Slayers being awakened which we thought would probably happen naturally anyway once the magic awakening the potentials began to decay, but we realised that we were increasingly not getting to those who did awaken in time. Then the slayers we did have started to disappear."
"This someone else was getting to them first?" Finrod said softly.
Giles nodded. "Yes, we think so now. I didn't really connect it with the wider picture though until Celeborn and Earendil arrived in our midst. At that time I had no idea that Osse was with them at the behest of Lord Ulmo. After a few...um...misunderstandings, we then realised after Melkor kindly informed us of it that Osse had been arrested by the local police as a suspect in the murder of the cemetery caretaker. We decided we needed to rescue him and that's when we arrived at the same time you and Eönwë appeared. The rest you know. I suppose what we really need to do is hit the research and try to find out who would have the nerve to pit the Timeless Halls, Valinor and earth against each other. I've racked my brain but at the moment I am all out of ideas. This...whatever it is, is something different, something we've never had to face before."
His hand fluttered away in a helpless and rather weary gesture from where it had been shoved in the pocket of his trousers and Finrod felt a sudden pity for him. Rupert Giles was a tired man. He no longer had the boundless strength and immortality of a Maia. He was in a wholly mortal form and he had fought the good fight with his slayer for far too long.
"I would normally say that it was long past time that you should return to Valinor my friend." Finrod put a gentle hand on his shoulder and felt the former Maia shudder slightly at the touch. "Were it not for the fact that it would seem that Valinor is closed to all of us."
"For now at least..." A gentle, but rich voice interrupted him and Eönwë also stepped out onto the porch. "For better or for worse we are all that is left to fight this new foe, whatever it is. We cannot rely on help from Valinor or from the Timeless Halls, the armies of mortal men cannot help, willing though they might be, even if they believed that they were at threat in the first place and they are blissfully unaware that they are. We must join forces with each other and use whatever we have at our disposal. What we desperately need at the moment is information. When the deed is done, then and only then can we return to the Blessed Realm and take what rest we need."
Giles grimaced and stood upright. He rubbed the base of his spine. "Gah...a pox on this ageing mortal body. My back aches interminably. Buffy teases me by telling me that it's old age and I get annoyed with her for doing it but she's right." He smiled at Finrod. "You're right, it is long past time that I should have returned and now I can't, none of us can until we sort this mess out, so let's just... have at it, do the research, find this damn enemy whoever they are, beat the shit out of them and get it over and done with so we can all go home."
He walked slowly back inside, all the time rubbing the ache in his lower back and watched by Eönwë and Finrod.
"He is tired and getting old." Finrod remarked.
"Aren't we all!" Eönwë returned with grim humour in his voice. Finrod snorted with laughter and they both followed him into Slayer Central.
ooOoo
"Oh...oh! Here's something! Oh no, er... maybe not." Dawn looked over at Willow who had made the same noises at least four times in the past half an hour and rolled her eyes.
"Could you actually stop doing that Will?" Xander didn't even bother to look up from the book he was peering closely at. Andrew, who was sitting next to him, stabbed at one paragraph on the page causing the one-eyed original Scooby member to slap his hand. "Will you stop doing that? I read that bit already."
Andrew nursed his stinging hand and stared balefully at him. "It might be something." He said crossly.
They both cringed as the tall impressive figure of Eönwë loomed over them. "What did you find?"
"It's nothing. I'm pretty sure it's nothing." Xander pointed at a paragraph on the beautifully illustrated vellum page. "Something to do with a cave somewhere up in the far north, only this olde English is very difficult to read. We're not looking for caves are we?"
Andrew tugged at Eönwë's sleeve. "But see? Those squiggles just under the illustration have to mean something...like a code maybe? Or...or they could be part of some long dead, very ancient language. It could be a deadly curse!" His voice squeaked, high with excitement.
Xander sighed. "Or they could just be a giant ink spot on the page. Like those psychological ink blot thingies."
"Rosarch." Jim said absently without looking away from the computer screen.
"Bless you." Xander immediately responded and this time they both looked at each other and burst into giggles.
Dawn shook her head in mock despair. "And here was I thinking there could only ever be one Xander." She glared at the two giggling men. "Xander, Rosarch is the name of the ink blot test. I don't even know why I bother, really I don't."
"It's a bit like having the two Xanders back." Willow giggled and everyone looked at her. "You know... when Xander got divided into two by that demon?"
"Oh please, don't even go there." Buffy groaned.
"I think you and Osse should take a look at these...er squiggles, Giles." Eönwë said mildly.
"Squiggles?" Giles cleaned his glasses for the millionth time and came to stand beside Eönwë who was staring down at the aforesaid squiggles with a troubled expression on his face. "What sort of...ah. Oh dear."
This time everyone looked up, Buffy and the others had learned that when Giles said 'oh dear' or 'oh lord' it usually meant something indescribably bad.
Buffy cringed. "Please don't tell me that there's another apocalypse on the way."
Osse picked the book up carefully and examined the markings. "I don't know about an apocalypse, but I do know that the language is a version of Valarin."
"Can you speak it?" Willow asked.
"Eönwë and I can." He glanced at Giles. "Can you remember how to speak Valarin?"
Buffy stared at Giles in confusion. "Why should Giles know this Valerie language?" She asked suspiciously and Melkor who had been 'sitting' on the couch opposite Celeborn sniggered, earning him a glare from the Elves and Maiar in the room. "Giles?"
"Erm..." Giles flushed to the roots of his thinning hair and went back to cleaning his glasses. He still hadn't figured out how to tell Buffy and the others who he actually was.
"Yes Giles...why don't you tell Buffy why you should know this Valerie language..." Melkor's sniggers had turned to distinct guffaws. "Valerie...brilliant. I'm really sorry that I didn't stop and get to know you better the last time we met, Buffy. I had no idea you were this funny."
Buffy stared at Melkor coldly. "Funny? Oh you have no idea how funny I can be when I'm stomping your head into a bloody mush." Her voice was soft and deadly.
"A little crude perhaps." Muttered Celeborn in a very low voice to Finrod. "But how I would love to be there when she does it."
"Get to the back of the queue." Finrod whispered back and Celeborn sniggered.
Melkor, in the meantime, had sauntered over to Buffy and laid himself down on the ground at her feet. "Oh please, do try it Slayer... bearing in mind that I actually don't have a body."
"Is it possible to make him look a little less like my uncle?" Finrod asked a little plaintively. "Because this is all very disturbing."
"Go on." Melkor, wearing the face of Feanor, taunted the Slayer. "Please do make my day!"
Buffy ground her teeth together so hard that everyone in the room heard the noise and winced.
"ENOUGH!" Eönwë's exasperated voice tore through the room before Buffy could make any kind of retort and even made Melkor sit back on his heels in shock. "It's like being in a room with a bunch of toddlers... no, actually forget that. My toddler has more sense than you lot do."
"Eönwë has children?" Melkor's mouth was a round 'o' of surprise.
"Could we get back to the squiggles? I mean Valarin..." Osse asked acerbically. "Valarin is the language of the Valar and the Maiar Buffy...Va..la..rin...not Valerie. The words here are in a rather archaic version of the language."
"Oh." Buffy was momentarily distracted from her desire to pound Melkor's head into the ground. "Okay, but that still doesn't explain why Giles would know it, although he does speak a lot of languages I guess."
Giles sent a pleading look to Eönwë who took pity on him. "Yes, it's an ancient language Buffy." He said quietly. "And since Mr Giles has been a student of ancient languages, it's not surprising that he's encountered it."
For some reason this only sent Melkor off into fresh peals of laughter and made Eönwë and Osse glare at him more.
"Could you just not be here for a while?" Osse asked him.
Melkor sighed and slumped back down on the couch, or rather made it look as though he was sitting down on the couch. "Sorry, no can do...not in this form anyway."
Xander stared balefully at the former First Evil. "I'd settle for you shutting up, even if we can't get rid of you. How about that?"
Melkor affected a hurt look and examined his fingernails, polishing one on the sleeve of his jacket, but remained silent, much to everyone's relief.
"What about this ...what did you call them? Squiggles which are actually Valarin?" Earendil, who had been quietly sitting reading on the window seat up until now, diplomatically intervened before open war broke out. "I admit I have heard it spoken a few times among a couple of the Maiar who visit us in Aewellond, it sounds like a very difficult language to me. May I ask what is actually written in that book?"
Eönwë held his hand out for the book which Xander willingly gave him. He frowned. "It definitely is Valarin, but what it says makes little sense. It simply says rebirth or re-birthing."
"Perhaps you get reborn in the cave or something." Dawn frowned. "It doesn't say place of rebirth by any chance?"
Eönwë shook his head. "No, just rebirth."
"I suppose that the question we should be asking ourselves is what or whose rebirth." Celeborn said quietly.
Faith, who had quietly come into the library around the time Buffy had been threatening to pound Melkor's head into goo, finally spoke up. "Does it say just exactly how far north or where this place is? Maybe we should go take a look see."
"Is it just me or was that a really bad mangling of this English language we are speaking?" Finrod whispered to Jim who grinned at him.
"It's American slang talk." He explained.
"Ah..." Finrod's brief response spoke volumes. "However perhaps Miss Faith has a point. Perhaps we should try and find out where this place is and see if it's relevant to the research."
Xander rubbed his hands together. "A scouting party? Now you're talking. I want dibs on a place in that."
"You just want to get out of researching Mister. I know your game." Willow's tone was accusatory.
"But I'm no good at the book stuff Will." Xander whined. "I'm a man of action."
Faith snorted in derision. Buffy frowned.
"I think if anyone is going to go and explore a cave it probably should be the Slayers." She said stubbornly folding her arms across her chest.
Xander looked at her. "You know Buffster, normally I would be the first to agree with you, but what if there is something in that cave that's responsible for taking our slayers and then you go marching in there all willy nilly?"
Buffy looked offended. "I never go anywhere all will nilly!"
"Willy nilly?" Celeborn whispered again to Earendil. "What is this willy nilly?"
Earendil shook his head in bewilderment. "I have no idea."
"But Xander has a point Buffy." Eönwë interrupted hastily. "Your young slayers are the ones who are going missing. It would be foolish to send more into possible danger. I think perhaps it would be better if we were to make a party up of those here who are not slayers. Just in case." He glanced over at Osse who was sitting staring thoughtfully at the paragraph in the book about the rebirth cave with his chin on his chest. "In any case we have yet to find out where this cave is."
"It just says in the far north. However it does mention Farochel in the other text, which used to be the frozen far north of Middle-earth itself." Osse closed the book with a snap. "I think it's safe to say that whoever we take with us, if there is danger or it is the source of that darkness from the cemetery, then it will know we are coming. We will have to go in stealth."
Eönwë sat back down at the table. "Farochel." He murmured half to himself. "The landmass of Middle-earth has changed considerably since the days of the Eldar, many of the continents have had small pieces broken away due to the ice that covered the earth thousands of years ago. This island, Britain, broke away from the rest of Europe and it is feasible that the very north of the island could have been part of the old lands of Farochel I suppose."
"Unless far north means Norway or Sweden, or perhaps Iceland." Dawn mused.
"Iceland isn't that far away from the very north of Scotland." Giles said quietly. "Even so, the term far north is a fairly broad one. Scotland is a big place, Iceland, Norway and Sweden are even bigger. I imagine that there are thousands of caves in those areas. It would be like finding a needle in a haystack."
"I could try and do a location spell." Willow offered hesitantly.
Eönwë looked at her. "What would you need to do this spell?"
She frowned in concentration. "Well I could do it with a modern map, but a map of the land as it was might be more accurate, specially if the cave has been there since the beginning. I mean we're talking thousands and thousands of years ago, even the mountain ranges will have changed. It could be high up or it could be buried. If the spell works on an old map, we can superimpose the new map over the old and find out almost exactly where it is. I just can't guarantee that we will be able to get access to it though. I have most of the ingredients for the spell, but I may need a little more Mugwort and some Lamb's Cress."
"Are they easily obtainable?" Osse inquired.
Willow's lips curved in a sweet, but mischievous smile. "I have my sources." She said mysteriously. "I'll go and email one of them now."
ooOoo
Eönwë sighed deeply as he shut his mobile phone off and slipped it into his jacket pocket, not being home with his family was torture, but talking to Kim and the children on the phone was even worse because he couldn't touch them to reassure himself that they were okay. Each time he had gone away, either because of some problem or whether his duties as General sent him on a trip he had always felt all right about it because there were always at least three Maiar warriors unclad but on duty. Now that extra defence had been removed abruptly. However he now understood why they had been withdrawn; Lord Manwë and most of the other Valar believed that the Dagor Dagorath was here and since the belief was sincere all hands were needed.
"Dagor Dagorath." He muttered under his breath, scowling at the same time. "Whose bloody bright idea was that?"
A soft chuckle alerted him to the presence of Melkor who was leaning against the door jamb. Eönwë's lips tightened into a straight compressed line.
"What do you want Melkor?"
"I didn't know that you had a family here in Middle-earth."
Eönwë swore, using words that he only ever could have learned in the British Army. "So help me Melkor, if you even try to hurt my family..."
"Now now Herald, language! Shouldn't you be writing that oath in your book?" Melkor arched an eyebrow at him.
Eönwë turned to look at him properly and was a bit taken aback to find no unpleasantness or even a touch of evil in the dark Vala's eyes. In fact there was amusement with a tinge of sympathy.
"The Dagor Dagorath..." Melkor stared out over the gardens of the manor. The sun was beginning to rise, shortening shadows and painting everything with a rosy glow. "I actually never believed there would ever be a final great battle. I always thought it was a tale to scare children with. To keep us in line or perhaps give we immortals something to look forward to? The fact is that the earth itself as a planet has a shelf life...a sell-by date if you like. Granted it's billions of years in the future, but what are billions of years to immortal beings?"
"Do you believe in it now?" Eönwë asked curiously.
Melkor stood for a moment and said nothing, then he turned to Eönwë. "Nope...still don't. If my time inside the Void along with all the rest of the demons and dregs of demon-kind has taught me anything, it's that people tell lies. Everyone lies. The Vala, those in the Timeless Halls, the demons, the elves and the men... in fact they can be the masters of lies. What happens is that we all go on and on until the earth wears out, explodes and then we start all over somewhere else. Except, of course, for whoever is left on the earth at that stage. Men are too busy trying to wipe each other out to worry unduly about it and many of their generations will pass before the earth is too old to maintain itself."
"Why are you helping us?"
Melkor chuckled. "Ah the sixty four million dollar question. Why? Because I dislike being used and I resent being a pawn of course. Someone up there in the Timeless Halls has an agenda and I refuse to be manipulated into the one driving it. Why else?" He smiled at the Herald a little slyly. "So...quid pro quo Herald, now you should answer my question. Why are you even bothering being here?"
"Why?" Eönwë was a little astounded at the question. "Because I am here at the behest of Eru to aid mankind. Why would I not be here?"
Melkor gave a graceful but eloquent shrug. "Oh I don't know...because perhaps your original place was meant to be there, in Valinor, wielding your strong sword arm against me during the Dagor Dagorath perhaps?"
"This current situation is not the Dagor Dagorath." Eönwë said shortly. "I think we both know that."
"Yes. You know it and I know it." Melkor gestured towards the house. "Your people know it, my former lieutenant knows it and his beloved slayers don't care, all they want is a good fight, but my Valar brethren do not, with the exception of Ulmo and perhaps Namo, but I am never sure about him. I once thought he would be the easiest of them to corrupt and yet he prevailed against me. I think he knows much more than he lets on to others. The trouble is that everybody knows that this is not the final battle except those in Valinor, and our brethren in the Timeless Halls have other troubles to deal with, otherwise Raguel would have been there already sowing the seeds of calm." He grinned unashamedly at Eönwë. "Face it Eönwë, you and I are on the same side for once, we are all that stands between a distracted and generally unconcerned Timeless Halls, the indifference and blind ignorance of the race of Men and the hysteria of impending war existing in the Blessed Realm at the moment."
For once in his life Eönwë could not disagree with the dark former Vala. Unfortunately, as always, they were the only ones who knew what was really going on, except that they had no idea who or what was perpetrating all of this. Deep inside there was an insidious little niggle because of what Melkor was inferring about the Timeless Halls; that there was someone there, in that place of supposed purity and light, who did not have the welfare of earth or even their own brethren at heart. The very notion made him heartsick. None of them had access to the Timeless Halls unless Eru willed it so and Eru was across the other side of the universe out of contact with his people. Even if they found the source of the problem, how were they to gain access to the Halls to track down this rogue Ainur?
Part of Eönwë felt irritated that Eru needed downtime at all, wasn't he all knowing and all seeing? Yet another part of him knew that when Eru was creating there was always silence from his throne. All of the energy that comprised The One was always used in creation, which is why he had beings like the Vala, Archangels, Maiar and Angels to see to everything else.
"Don't be too hard on Eru, Eönwë." Melkor seemed to see right through his thoughts and it momentarily alarmed him. "And stop worrying, you shield your thoughts from me remarkably well, although my sojourn in the Void has dimmed my abilities somewhat. However, your current thoughts are plainly written across your face. I know you don't trust me; you have no reason to, but in this at least we are of one mind, we need to find the source of the power that is emanating across the globe. I suspect that the reason the young slayers are being culled is because for the most part, they are untouched by the hand of men and they also have great power. In addition they are earth's warriors against all darkness and evil, take them out and you weaken earth's defences considerably. We know for sure that the armies of men will have no effect against it. Whatever this is, it has gone against the younger slayers first because the older slayers are more in touch with themselves, their calling and the evil around them, but it will come for them...and soon."
"I need to get in touch with Joaquim and the other Grigori." Eönwë said worriedly. "I think we need all the help we can get. The trouble is that I don't think they're in Vevey at the moment. They may be en route to northern Iraq."
Melkor frowned and drew himself up straight. "Northern Iraq? Why... wait, never mind...I know why. You are speaking about Semjaza aren't you?" He came closer to Eönwë and made as if to grip his arm, but of course being incorporeal he couldn't. "The Grigori are going to Kharsag aren't they? Why are they going there?"
Eönwë was filled with uncertainty. How much of the story of the past couple or three years concerning the Grigori should he be telling Melkor? The penny began to drop, Semjaza had two possible fates, he would make a choice that would either be the saving or the destruction of the world and the human race and that choice would be made in Kharsag, which was originally Eden and which held a repository of lore and wisdom second to none in the entire universe. His heart nearly stopped and the expression on his face told Melkor clearly what he wanted to know.
"Semjaza is free." Melkor whispered, half to himself. "And he goes to make his choice in Kharsag and the fate of humankind, and indeed even the Timeless Halls and Valinor, stands in the balance. This rogue Ainur is trying to manipulate those events and we are all in great peril."
By this time Eönwë's heart had sunk to the bottom of his boots. Why hadn't he linked the two sets of events? Semjaza was a being of great power; a power that had been invested in him by Eru himself through the High Lord Anu, the lord of the earthbound Grigori, now resident back in the Timeless Halls. If Semjaza chose to be on the side of darkness, then his power would know no bounds. Those in the Halls would be split down the middle and something much worse than the Dagor Dagorath would begin... the battle for the Timeless Halls would rip through the universe and tear earth apart taking the human race and the elves, and everything else for that matter with it.
He didn't know how long he had stood there with the coldness and fear washing over him, he only realised that he had sunk down onto his haunches against the wall when Osse's concerned voice filtered through to his brain and he looked up, desperately trying to focus through the dark veil over his vision.
"Eönwë? What is it? What happened?"
"He's coming out of it." Xander's matter of fact tones actually got through to Eönwë quicker than anything else. As his vision cleared, Xander's friendly features gradually came into focus. The Herald tried to speak, to form words, but nothing would come except a strangled moan at first.
"What did you do?" Eönwë shook his head and cleared his vision to find an extremely incensed Buffy standing over Melkor.
"He did nothing." Eönwë finally managed weakly. "In fact I think he has been instrumental in figuring out why this is all happening at this time."
"Let's get him inside into the warmth of the library." Dawn, ever practical these days, gestured to Osse and Finrod to help Eönwë to his feet. "Someone go get a drink of brandy or something for him."
Moments later Eönwë had a glass of restorative brandy cupped in his hands and an audience of increasingly alarmed and worried people as he and Melkor recounted the conversation they had just had with each other.
After they had both finished explaining what they believed was happening, everyone was quiet, busy trying to internalise the sheer unmitigated horror and enormity of the situation. Finally Buffy broke the silence.
"Okay, so what kind of demon is this Shemyazi guy and how do I kill him?"
ooOoo
A reference to Fiondil's wonderful depictions of Findarato and Glorfindel in his Elf Interrupted, Elf Interrupted 2 and In Darkness Bound series of stories on Stories of Arda.
