Rating: PG-13 - Violence, mild language.
Summary: Sauron wasn't too pleased with how things turned out in his encounter with the Scooby Gang. The future of the world is in danger. Can the Scoobs save it and themselves?
Spoilers: All of season three Buffy; not a whole lot for LOTR.
Disclaimer: All _Buffy_ characters belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy Productions. _Lord of the Rings_ characters and universe belong to Mr. J.R.R. Tolkien. We are but lowly fan fiction writers who enjoy spinning a good yarn. We are NOT making any money off this, nor are we trying to infringe on anyone's copyright. So don't sue us.
Authors' Notes: This story takes place just before season four in a seriously AU Buffy-verse. In the LOTR universe, it's during the Fellowship and the War of the Ring. Please send any and all feedback to: NetGrlWill@aol.com & NovusSibyl@aol.com. Flames are read, laughed at then deleted with extreme prejudice.
Dark Night of the Soul 2
By Net Girl & Sibyl
Chapter 1 - "A Friend In Need ... "
"Oh no."
Buffy Summers stared in stunned horror as half a dozen pointy-eared, puke green-gray skinned and generally ugly Orcs filed out of the glowing time rip that had appeared in her front yard. The Orcs made no mistake about where they intended to go. They headed straight for the Summers' front door. A moment later, Buffy gasped and whirled away from the window when she heard her front door being kicked in.
-
"Buffy!"
Willow Rosenberg, arms stretched out in front of her, sat up in bed and opened her eyes. Breathing heavily, she glanced around her darkened bedroom. Slowly, her arms dropped down as she calmed herself. The only sound in the room was the squeaking of Amy the Rat's exercise wheel. Willow's outburst had startled the poor witch-turned-rodent.
"A dream ... a dream ..." Willow murmured as her hands clutched at her chest. Beads of sweat lazily slid down the sides of her face. Throwing the blankets back, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, closed her eyes and took measured breaths. "A dream ... that's all."
The nightmare - a more proper term for it - had been going on for the last week. The lidless Eye that was Sauron dominated it. Always, he was after Buffy. For what reason, Willow didn't know. She couldn't do anything to stop him or to save Buffy from being taken by him. She wasn't powerful enough.
Willow wondered in passing how she'd managed to break free of him two months before. Was it her desire to be free? Was it some strange magick or perhaps something deeper? Whenever she thought back to that day, she felt as though a piece of her memory was missing. Something happened - she just knew it - but try as she did, she could never find the memory. Was it related to Sauron? Why did it bother her so?
Amy the Rat continued to squeak on her wheel. Suddenly, she stopped. Her rat nose twitched rapidly as she sensed something near. A few seconds later, she squeaked excitedly and began to circle her cage as though she was possessed. Or in so much fear she wanted out.
Willow's eyes closed as she let herself relax. [It was only a dream. He's not here. He's far in the past where he belongs.] Her muscles tightened as a familiar Darkness invaded her mind and heart. The lure of it tempted the young Wicca.
Soft whispers surrounded her, a voice murmured things in a language she'd heard before yet did not quite understand. The chill stabbed deeper and deeper into her body, it wouldn't let go. And the whispering voice became louder.
"Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul."
Her eyes flicked open and she stood up with a jolt. The voice faded away. It was more than a dream. Sauron, inadvertently, had warned her of doom to come. Something was going to happen - very soon. As fast as she possibly could, she changed out of her pajamas and into street clothes then headed for Xander Harris's house. They had to get together with Buffy.
Now.
-
Buffy's heart raced as she headed to her bedroom door. Once she cracked it open, she could hear the voices of the Orcs downstairs, talking. At intervals, the sound of something being knocked over mixed with the banter.
She glanced towards her mother's bedroom door and prayed Joyce wouldn't wake up. That was all she needed, to explain what these creatures were and why they were in the house, tearing things apart. She'd never bothered to tell her mother about Middle-earth. Giles's abrupt departure from Sunnydale was easily explained away - no library to tend, no longer officially Buffy's Watcher - so why give the woman more stress?
Her attention shifted back to her intruders when something in the living room - probably a vase - shattered, startling the young Slayer. Closing her door a little, she listened hard, trying to decipher what the Orcs downstairs said.
"Find the girl," one of the voices ordered, obviously annoyed that somebody made noise. "The Master won't take another failure. This time, we bring her back or it's the Big Fire for us."
"She isn't here," replied another. A moment later, something else clattered to the floor.
"Search her bed chamber, you ignorant worm!" snarled the first. "Find her and kill anyone else you find. The Dark Lord wants his mysteries."
"Not here," a third voice put in.
Buffy blanched. [Kill anyone else?] Her gaze flicked back to her mother's still closed bedroom door. [Please, Mom, please don't wake up.] She swallowed hard. The situation had been taken to another level now; a level that Buffy couldn't handle. The creaking of the stairs caught her attention once more and she ducked back into her room when she saw the top of an Orc head.
"God," she softly whispered. Her heart rate doubled and the adrenaline coursed at high speed through her veins. The impending battle excited her on a subconscious level and terrified her at the same time. She wanted them to come. Still, something about this whole scenario felt oddly familiar. Why, though?
"This way," one of the Orcs hissed. They were upstairs now, Buffy could tell, and headed for her room. "Don't kill the girl - the Master needs her alive."
Buffy's only advantage at the moment was the element of surprise. Sliding away from her door, she positioned herself so the door would hide her when the Orcs entered. Pressing her back against the wall, she waited. The pounding in her chest filled her ears now, she almost wondered if they couldn't hear it themselves.
Slowly, the door began to creak open.
[Wait ... wait ... wait for it,] she thought as the dim outlines of two Orcs cast themselves upon her floor.
"I told you, maggot, she's not here," said one. The voice was just on the other side of the door. Only a slim piece of wood separated Buffy from her unwelcome visitors. Her eyes closed as she tried to keep her breathing quiet and steady.
"Quiet, fool," hiss the first Orc. A pause and a sound as though the Orc was sniffing followed. "She is here."
Buffy decided if she wanted to keep her element of surprise, she had to move now. She kicked her door forward with every ounce of strength she could muster. The wood splintered and a pained yowl let her know she'd done some damage to at least one of the Orcs. As another Orc ripped what was left of the door away from its hinges, Buffy snatched up a shard of wood.
The battle had begun.
"Ah! You'll regret that, woman," growled the second Orc. He reached for her but Buffy planted a vicious side kick into him. She heard ribs crack as her foot made contact with the Orc's chest and sent him flying backwards across her room. He slammed hard into the wall and slumped on the floor, out cold. For now, at least.
Her eyes flicked down to the Orc she'd clocked with the door. He was doubled over, his hands cradling his profusely bleeding nose and face.
"Hey, pal, don't bleed on my floor." Buffy delivered a foot to the Orc's face, whipping his head back with such a force he found himself staring up at the ceiling, a dazed expression on his ugly face. Gripping the wooden shard in both hands, she brought it down into the center of the Orc's chest.
Before she could pull her makeshift stake out of the Orc, another came charging at her from down the hallway. She rolled out of the way and her head whipped around in time to see the Orc hit her bed with full force then slide up it until he banged his skull on her headboard. She grimaced.
"That's going to leave a mark, I bet," she mumbled then shook her head. Picking up another piece of wood, she scrambled out of her room and down the hall. At the top of her stairs, though, she came to an abrupt halt. "Shit." Three more Orcs were headed up the stairs.
"Grab her, you worms!" exclaimed the one whom Buffy assumed was the leader as he pointed to her. The other two followed the order without question.
"I'm just Popular Girl in any time period, aren't I?" she muttered as she headed away from the top of the stairs. She passed her mother's door, thankful that the noise hadn't roused Joyce from her sleep. She came to a stop again when the third Orc emerged from her room, rubbing the top of his head. Quickly, Buffy ducked into the bathroom.
"Now that was a really stupid move, Summers," she said as she looked around. "Right into a dead end."
While one Orc stumbled out of Buffy's room, two more arrived at the top of the stairs.
"Where is she?" demanded one of the newcomers to the third who rubbed his head. Before the other could answer, the sound of the shower being turned on caught their attention. "In there!" The three Orcs rushed for the bathroom.
The first one in the door took a stake to the chest from Buffy. "It's not nice to come into the bathroom when a lady's trying to take a shower!" she told him. "Brute!" A single punch to the face sent the staked Orc stumbling backwards into the others. They glanced at the dead Orc then at each other, a fear of the Slayer in both creatures' eyes.
Buffy flashed them a grin when both Orcs faced her. "Come and get me, boys," she teased, crooking a finger. As one of the Orcs advanced, Buffy seized him by the arm, pinned it behind his back then smashed his face into the bathroom mirror. Shards of bloodied glass fell into the sink and onto the floor. "Ooo, seven years bad luck!"
The Orc made some sort of groaning noise. It's free hand brushed over its face and picked at the mirror pieces embedded into his skin.
The Slayer picked up one of the jagged glass pieces and drove it into the jugular of the wounded Orc. Disgusting goo spurted out of the wound and all over the wall and sink when Buffy withdrew it from the Orc.
"More like seven seconds in your case, punk." She shoved the Orc out of the bathroom but the one still standing sidestepped this time.
His eyes dropped down to his two dead comrades in the upstairs hallway. Slowly, he lifted his head and growled at the Slayer who stood in the bathroom, staring at him with a smirk on her face. "You'll bleed for this, Slayer," he hissed at her.
Buffy glanced over her shoulder. The bathtub was thinly filled with water, but it was enough to do what she wanted it to. Her attention went back to the advancing Orc. His hands reached out for her, a murderous gleam in his eyes. Suddenly, she held up her hands, palms out, to him.
"Wait!" she exclaimed. To her surprise, he stopped, and probably to his surprise as well. She snatched up her hair dryer, aimed it at him and narrowed her eyes on the Orc. "Stay back! This is a deadly weapon! Only my kind knows how to wield it and control its powers!" She pressed the button and a stream of hot air spewed out of the end.
The Orc was stunned, but only for a moment. When he realized it was only warm air, and not some kind of killing beam or force, he snarled at her and advanced again. Buffy sidestepped at the last moment, drove her elbow into the middle of the Orc's back, knocked him off balance and sent him tumbling into the tub. She turned on her heel and looked down her nose at the Orc.
He brought up his hands, a terrified expression on his face that quickly morphed into relief. "It's just water!" he cried out. He looked up to Buffy, who still had the running hair dryer in her hand. "Stupid girl! It's just water!"
A wicked grin tugged at Buffy's mouth. "That's what you think." With that, she dropped the hair dryer into the bathtub. The Orc squealed, his body shaking violently as the electricity conducted itself throughout the water and into him. Sparks flickered from the water then the wall socket and Buffy took a few steps backwards. Soon, the hair dryer sputtered out and it died ... along with the Orc.
Buffy stared at the smoking Orc in the bathtub and she shook her head. "You know, I've always heard that meeting me is an electrifying experience." [Good one!] she thought, giving herself a mental high five. The back patting over her clever quip was cut short by Joyce's voice.
"BUFFY!"
"Mom!" Buffy flew out of the bathroom, turned to head for her mother's room but stopped cold when she saw the last of the Orcs. He laughed as he placed a long blade to Joyce's throat. Buffy looked from the glimmering blade to her mother - Joyce was, understandably, frightened, but even more confused at what was going on. "Mom ... "
The Orc laughed again. "Not so brave now, are we, girl?" The blade lowered just a bit from Joyce's neck, the point dragging lightly across the exposed skin near the collarbone. "Mother is a weakness, isn't she? Old Grishgork figured that out, I did, after all the others failed."
[What the hell's he blathering about?] Buffy wondered. But she didn't dwell on it long. Her thoughts turned to ways of saving her mother. The distance between them was minimal but it was enough for the Orc to slash Joyce's throat before Buffy could get there. She had no weapons at all, though a crossbow probably wouldn't have been of any use either. [Think, Buffy. You've survived so many things, you can't think of a way to get out of this?]
"Buffy ..." Joyce Summers' eyes brimmed with tears. "What ... what do they want?" She didn't know how she had the presence of mind to ask such a question. She gasped when the Orc pulled her closer, the blade piercing the tender flesh and a thin red line of blood trickled down her chest.
"Daughter knows what we want," the Orc answered. He shifted his gaze from Joyce to Buffy, smirking triumphantly now. "I'll cut her if you don't do what I say. Let her go if you do."
"Bullshit," snapped Buffy, her eyes burning into the Orc. She couldn't stop glancing at the blood on her mother's skin. [I'm going to make him sorry he ever found her. I'll tear his limbs off, cut him into a thousand pieces...] "I heard you guys talking - kill everyone else you discover. Your threat is empty, pal."
The Orc's head cocked to one side, but his smarmy smirk was still in place. He chuckled softly. "Either way, girl, you're coming with us. Our Master wants you."
"Your master too chicken to come after me himself?" asked Buffy, an eyebrow cocking. She pretended to have a revelation, and added, "Oh wait, I forgot, he doesn't even have a friggin' body so he CAN'T come after me!"
The Orc smiled wider, baring his gnarled teeth at her. "You have no choice - you come."
"You're not taking my daughter anywhere!" Joyce jammed her elbow into the ribs of the Orc, his grip on her loosened but she didn't stop there. She stomped down hard on the Orc's left foot, whirled around and punched the creature in the face. The knife fell out of his hand as he smacked up against the wall. Quickly, Joyce picked up the knife and held it on the Orc as Buffy ran up behind her. "You're not so bad without this, are you?"
Buffy blinked as she looked at the Orc, who held his bleeding nose, then to her mother. Joyce had an expression on her face Buffy rarely saw - she could've been a Slayer herself!
"Mom?" she calmly said, reaching out a hand. "Give me the knife and let me take care of it from here. Okay?"
Joyce let go of the knife as Buffy wrapped her fingers around it then Joyce's hand brushed over the minor wound the Orc had inflicted upon her. She glanced from Buffy to the Orc.
"What ... what are they doing here?" she asked, her voice slightly distant. She seemed astonished she'd managed to save herself, but the thought of Buffy being taken from her - it was too much to bear.
Before Buffy could lie her way out of it, a loud whinny of a horse accompanied by a chilling shriek came from somewhere outside. Joyce and Buffy whirled, eyes wide and the exact same expression of frightened surprise on each woman's face.
"What was that?" Joyce's hushed voice inquired. She trembled gently. She'd become privy to a lot of things because of Buffy's Slayer duty, but never had she heard anything such as that. She swallowed hard and slid her gaze over to Buffy.
Buffy gripped the handle of the Orc's blade so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her heart pounded in her chest. [What the hell was that?] Even she didn't know. Of course, if it was something sent by Sauron, it couldn't be good. "I don't know," she whispered in reply.
The Orc, spotting his chance to escape, shoved Buffy into Joyce before taking off down the stairs. Buffy narrowly avoided impaling her mother with the knife as she collided with Joyce. The Orc's maniacal laughter drifted up the stairs and gradually died away.
"Mom, are you okay?" Buffy asked as Joyce leaned against the wall for support. She looked her mother over, a twinge of anger flaring up when she spotted that cut near Joyce's collarbone. "Mom?"
Joyce nodded then waved a hand at the stairs. "I'm fine, Buffy. Go," she replied, that motherly tone in her voice. "Stop him before he hurts somebody else."
"Mom -" Buffy began. She wanted to get even with that Orc for what he'd done, but what about that ... whatever that noise was outside? It wasn't her own safety she feared for, but Joyce's. If that thing killed her, it would surely come and kill her mother.
"Go!" Joyce gave her a push. She met her daughter's gaze; her eyes filled with worry but also a resolve. "You have to protect others from him. I'll be fine by myself."
Buffy pressed her lips together, her chest tightened as she thought for a moment then she stepped back from Joyce. [I have to. She'll be fine. It's me they wanted, anyway. And it's me they're going to get.] With a nod, Buffy thundered down the stairs to finish what the Orcs had started.
"If Sauron wants to party, we'll party. He'll be sorry he ever decided to come to the future," she murmured as she reached the bottom of the steps. She flew out of the doorless front door, hopped off the porch and skidded to a halt. "Whoa ... " she said, her eyes affixed to what was before her.
The surviving Orc cackled as he leapt through the time rip and vanished. But that wasn't why Buffy stopped. Before her, mounted on a monstrous black horse, was a rider shrouded completely in black robes. The hood was so long it hung over his face so Buffy couldn't see him. The steed he rode upon, its legs ... they almost appeared to glimmer in the light of the street lamps. It took her a minute to realize that the glimmering substance was blood.
She took two steps back, her eyes traveled up the length of the rider and stopped at his hooded head. "Who the hell are you?" she asked. The rider reined the horse around, though his attention never left the blonde below him. "Hey, buddy, I asked you a question." Still no comment from the rider. "Don't you know there's a law about having animals that size within the city limits? You're messing up my lawn, too."
Slowly, a hand raised and reached out towards her and a gloved finger pointed. "Slayer," the rider hissed in a tone that didn't sound very human to Buffy. The voice made her blood run cold, so cold she shivered despite herself. It was like the screams of millions of people in horrible agony.
"Yeah, Slayer. That's me, pal," she said when she found her own voice. She licked her lips and her sweaty hand gripped the knife handle tight.
"Slayer ... come," the rider continued as he crooked a finger and beckoned her towards him.
For the briefest of moments, Buffy actually considered doing as the rider commanded. She blinked twice then shook her head, and the odd feeling lifted from her. A hand absently brushed over the pendant Galadriel had given her. "I've got a better idea," she replied, narrowing her eyes at the figure. "You ... die."
Expertly, she threw the knife at the rider, aiming for his heart. The blade penetrated his flesh and made a muted 'thunk'ing sound upon impact. The horse whinnied again and the rider screeched loudly, trying to control his steed while grabbing at the blade.
Buffy put her hands on her hips and shook her head. "This Sauron isn't as bad assed as everyone's letting on." She scoffed.
The rider hissed lowly as he pulled the knife from his chest, tossed the blade - or what was left of it - onto the ground before her. Buffy stared at the knife, stunned at what she saw. It was as though the metal had been melted off. The rider wasn't hurt at all. Probably more annoyed than anything.
She lifted her head again. The Slayer barely had time to scream before the black rider seized her by the arm then yanked her with little effort onto the horse. The animal whinnied loudly and the screech of the rider combined with it in the warm night air.
-
Willow skidded to a halt and Xander, who'd been struggling to keep her pace, bumped into her. She looked around - that feeling inside of her was more intense than ever now. She knew he was near in some capacity - Sauron. Memories of him flooded her mind, the power that so intoxicated her while she was bearer of a lesser ring. Her heart sank as another screech broke the quiet of the small town.
Xander, though, gasped in a sudden breath. "Will ... what the hell was that?" he asked in a low voice. "And before you answer ... do I really want to know?" Any fear he had disappeared when Buffy screamed.
Willow closed her eyes and her head bowed. "No, please," she softly murmured. Her hands balled into fists at her sides. [This can't be happening, it can't be real. It can't be.] But the dream had come true - Sauron had found a way into the future. And he had come for Buffy.
"Come on, Will! Move it!" Xander ordered as he clamped a hand on her arm then gave her a push to get her to going. "Let's go! We have to help her!"
Willow had no hope of helping Buffy. She already knew they were too late. Still, she followed after Xander.
"Get you hands off of me!" Buffy yelled as she struggled under the arm of the rider. To her confusion, she was powerless against him. Every punch she delivered had no effect on him. Whatever this thing was, it was more than a match for a Slayer.
Xander and Willow rounded the corner and came to an abrupt halt in Buffy's front yard. The rider was headed for the time rip with Buffy clutched under one arm. Her legs wildly kicked and her fingers dug into the shoulder of the hooded man. He paid no mind to her futile attempts to free herself.
"Buffy!" Xander shouted. "Come on, Willow!" He grabbed her wrist and pulled her along - towards the open rip. "Buffy! We're going to help you!"
Buffy's head turned just in time for her to see Xander, dragging Willow with him, coming after her. She reached out desperately for her friends. "Xander! Willow! Help me!" And in the next instant, she disappeared into the time rip with the rider. "Xander!!!"
Willow stopped just short of the rip and Xander whirled around. "What are you doing?" he demanded. He gestured towards the rip. "They just took Buffy! We have to go and get her." He noticed the petrified look on Willow's face. "Willow ... what's the matter with you?"
"We can't go back there ... I can't." She shook her head. Sauron almost had her in his power the last time. She didn't want to chance it. There was a reason she kept dreaming about him over the last two months. More than likely, it wasn't because he was a caring soul. "Xander ... "
Xander's eyes narrowed on her for a moment. "I can't believe this," he replied. He glanced back at the rip then looked to Willow. "Fine. Stay here. I'm going to get her back." With that said, he jumped into the time rip and vanished.
Willow remained as though she was rooted to the space in front of the opening. She couldn't just jump in this time, not like she had before. She knew what lay on the other side. That evil - her arms wrapped around herself as she became cold. Shivering, she continued to stare at the time rip.
[I can't go. Buffy, I'm sorry. You know I can't. I'm so sorry.]
"Willow ... " a voice, so familiar, faintly whispered. It seemed to originate from within the rip. Soft-spoken words in the Black Tongue followed. Then the rip began to flicker and become unable to sustain itself. "Come ..."
Willow closed her eyes. She gasped sharply when the lidless Eye flashed in her mind. Surprised, and frightened, her eyes flew open. The whispering faded away but the icy coldness remained with her. Sauron, even in the past, had a hold on her. Perhaps not as significant as before though she still felt his presence - she always had, even upon waking in Buffy's bedroom two months ago.
Against her better judgment, she stepped into the shimmering portal and embarked on another journey to the past. As soon as she'd entered it and disappeared, the rip in Sunnydale sealed itself. No evidence was left behind to indicate that anything out of the ordinary had happened there.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
The trip through the portal to the past wasn't anything like Willow remembered it being the first time, probably because she didn't remember the trip the first time. She was so concerned with Buffy not being stuck wherever the portal led alone she paid no mind to the actual getting there. A multi-colored tube swirled around her, sparking and glowing at various points in the journey. Ahead of her, she could make out the faint sound of Xander's voice - he was yelling something. She couldn't hear it clearly.
Soon, a bright flash blinded Willow temporarily, and like her arrival in the Shire, she landed hard on her stomach on the ground. Blinking a few times, she groaned then pushed herself up onto her hands then looked around. A few feet away, Xander leaned against the wall of a building, one hand on his head tending a minor cut he'd received.
"Are you okay?" she asked as she managed to sit up. She rubbed a hand over her stomach, glanced around and wrinkled her nose. "Where are we?" Her gaze shifted back over to Xander. He didn't reply. He didn't even look at her. "Xander. Hello? I'm asking a question. Do you have any idea where we are?"
Xander pulled his hand back away from his head, gazed at his bloodied fingers for a few moments then shook his head. "No, I don't," he mumbled. "All I do know is ... wherever we are, Buffy and the mounted freak who kidnapped her aren't here."
Willow stood up, took a moment to make sure she was properly balanced and made her way over to Xander. "We'll find her, Xander," she told him. She didn't sound convincing at all. She didn't even try to fake convincing. Looking down at him, she added, "Are you sure you're okay? That cut's pretty nasty."
"What would you care?" he muttered as he stood up, instantly turning his back on her.
"Huh?" She blinked once. "What?"
"Oh, I'm just talking about your reaction back in Sunnydale, that's all," he replied with a coldness in his voice that Willow rarely heard from him. He glanced over his shoulder at the baffled red head. "I can't believe you did that, Willow. You saw what happened to Buffy the same as I did. And you stopped. When I got here and you didn't come out of the portal after me, for a moment, I thought you weren't coming at all."
Willow pressed her lips together and lowered her gaze to the ground. "Xander, I - I ... you don't know what I -"
"I don't care, Willow." He whirled around, eyes narrowed at her. "You show up at my house, practically beat down my door while screaming about how we need to go see Buffy and now. Then we witness her kidnapping and you don't do a damn thing but stand there."
She sighed heavily. "As I was telling you, Xander, you don't know what I heard. What I saw."
"I can only assume it was the same things I heard and saw." He glanced around the alleyway they were in, wondering where in Middle-earth they were and how far away Buffy and her kidnapper were in relation to it. "Didn't think we'd be back here so soon. More like ever."
Willow sighed again, a knot growing in her gut. Xander was too upset to care about what she had to say, not that it necessarily excused him, but she could understand. He loved Buffy very much, as did she, though his experiences in Middle-earth hadn't altered him in the same manner as Willow. He could sleep at nights; she could not. He could close his eyes without seeing that Eye. He could be alone and not hear that voice ... that whispering voice ...
"Let's figure out where we are," Xander said, breaking the silence. He dabbed at his wound, wincing a little but he figured he would be okay. Nobody in this place would wonder about a cut. "Then we ... figure out where Buffy is."
"Right. C'mon."
The two of them emerged from the alley, at which point Xander smiled in recognition.
"Bree! Could be worse, right?" he asked Willow, his spirits rising a little. If Buffy was here, too, things were looking up.
"I guess," Willow replied half-heartedly. Not that she disagreed with him, but just being back here... so close to Sauron... was already starting to make her nervous. How long before he realized she'd come back?
At any rate, none of the people - Men and the odd Hobbit - out walking were running around, screaming or otherwise alarmed, so she doubted that cloaked rider had come through here any time recently. Looking around, she did spot a familiar landmark. "There's that inn we stayed at. Might as well start there."
"Yeah."
The inn of the Prancing Pony was exactly as they remembered it - crowded, noisy, smelly and dimly lit, at least by their 20th century standards, yet still possessing no small amount of rough charm. There were only a few patrons at this early hour - a handful of Hobbits enjoying one of their many daily meals, a few older Men brooding over their ales, and two tables filled with swarthy (at least by Bree-standards) folk who spoke with strange accents.
"So... now what?" Xander whispered.
"You're supposed to be good at this kinda thing! All those times you went and beat up Willy for info, remember?" Willow whispered back, then sighed at the look on his face. "Go ask the bartender if he's seen Buffy, maybe?"
"That might work," Xander conceded.
Willow watched as he headed over to the bar and struck up a conversation with Barliman Butterbur. After a moment, she tuned that out and looked around the bar. The Hobbits had just left, and the old Bree-landers were starting to nod off. That left the foreigners, or were they just another local ethnic group? Willow had no idea, and she wasn't about to go over and ask.
She suddenly flinched and turned away.
Two of them were staring at her.
[You're imagining things - like hell I am,] she thought, keeping her back towards them. But she could still feel them watching her. [It's just because you're the only girl in the place... and the only redhead in town...]
Even to her, it didn't sound convincing.
[Xander, hurry *up*!]
Somehow, she managed not to scream when Xander put his hand on her shoulder.
"You okay?" he asked, noticing how pale she was.
"You startled me," Willow replied. Before he could challenge that, she asked, "What did he say?"
"Nothing. Well, nothing about Buffy and that creepy horse guy, anyway. I do know more about this year's ale than I ever wanted to, though."
Willow sighed. Somehow, she had expected they wouldn't get any help here, but it was still frustrating. "Now what do we do?"
"We find Buffy," Xander replied. "If these people can't help us, we'll find someone who can."
"Who?"
Xander sighed theatrically. "The people who ruined my Christmas."
"Oh. Great," Willow muttered. She still had lingering doubts about Elves, doubts that she couldn't get rid of even though she knew their true source. "Let's just get out of here, okay?"
-
Two hours later, they passed through the South Gate. Gone were their watches, bartered away in exchange for much-needed traveling gear. They had come out far ahead on the deal, gaining rucksacks, bedrolls, a sturdy frying pan, a pair of sharp knives, walking sticks, and a few days worth of food. The man who had bought the watches had clearly thought he'd come out ahead nonetheless, marveling as he had over the 'Dwarven' craftsmanship.
Marveling over that and also strongly warning Willow and Xander against going east, he had, in fact, seemed almost dumbstruck at the very idea, but would only mutter something about wars when Xander had asked why.
"East is East and Bree is Bree, and that's all I care," was the shopkeep's way of closing the conversation.
So it was on that note that the two of them set out on the long road to Rivendell.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Much further southeast of where Willow and Xander had arrived in Middle-earth, Buffy Summers arrived at a place seen by few and feared by many. Deep in the heart of Mordor, in the foulest and least pleasant land in the whole of Middle-earth, sat the Dark Tower of Barad-dûr. The Lord of Mordor, or what was left of him after so many long ages of decay and darkness, resided within its adamant walls.
Settled on a bleak and jagged outcrop of the Ash Mountains, Sauron's rebuilt fortress was once again alive with activity. She didn't see much of the place because of a darkness that shrouded the lands, a darkness which the black-clad figure didn't seem to be bothered by as he rode hard through the towering gates with her.
Though she couldn't see much of anything, the darkness did nothing to inhibit her ability to hear clearly. Voices shouting, accompanied by the sounds of construction, and every so often a piercing scream, gave her some clue as to how big a force Sauron had working for him. It was a large force, numbering in the thousands at the very least, from what she gathered.
The rest of Middle-earth was in for quite a battle. And it wasn't going to be pretty when it happened. Despite knowing her future was secure, Buffy still felt fearful of it all. What if something changed? What if her being there changed everything? The free people of Middle-earth could fail for some reason - Hobbits, Elves and the rest, all under Sauron's grasp - and then, worse, her own world would be gone.
After what seemed to be forever, Buffy's kidnapper reined his horse to a halt, dismounted then pulled her off of the horse after him. Refusing to give in, she renewed her struggles to escape. As before, it was useless. Something about this freaky guy wasn't bothered by Slayer-strength punches or kicks, and he didn't respond to any of her snide comments, either.
She lifted her head as she was carried up an endless flight of black stairs. Taking a look around, she marveled at the architecture of the place - grim, but magnificent all the same. As far as Evil Villain Lairs went, Sauron certainly had the best - hands down. So to speak. Of course, Buffy hadn't seen many unless she counted the decrepit mansion outside of Sunnydale Angelus, Spike and Drusilla had used for a base of operations.
Once again, the kidnapper came to a stop. The sound of a large door being opened was followed by the low groan of hinges in awful need of WD-40. Buffy craned her head around as she tried to get a better look at where she'd been taken. She'd no more than moved her head when the hooded figure practically tossed her into the darkened room.
"OOF!" She hit the floor, which felt almost like metal to her, hard. "Ow," she muttered as she placed her hands on the floor to push up from it. She flipped her hair out of her face then narrowed her eyes on the hooded figure standing in the doorway just staring at her. "You're going to be sorry you did that," she warned.
The figure stared at her for another moment then flung the door shut. The clang of metal on metal reverberated throughout the cell the Slayer had been placed in. Closing her eyes, she prayed it would cease. In a few minutes, the cell had become almost dead silent. Faint noises could be heard yet none of them clear enough for her to distinguish what they were. Sitting back on her heels, Buffy gave the cell a once over.
"Well, looks like this is home for awhile. Until I can escape, that is," she said to herself. She slowly got to her feet, wandered over to the far wall and placed her hands on it. Her brow furrowed. The walls were much like the floor - made out of the same metallic material. She slammed an open palm against the wall then muttered a curse as she shook her stung hand. She flexed her fingers. "Punching my way through that is out."
She turned away from the wall and scanned the rest of the room. It wasn't a horribly small cell, and it wasn't exactly the Ritz-Carlton, either. No bed, no lights, nothing in the way of a bathroom, which concerned her for a moment. The only thing she had was a barred window on the opposite side of her cell. This was where the noises originated from as well.
The Slayer crossed the cold cell floor, reached up above her head and latched her fingers around the bars over the open window. Easily, she hoisted herself up until she could peer through the bars. Her eyes widened slightly at what she saw outside. Far off in the distance, perhaps not all that far, a volcano continuously belched out lava. The red-orange molten rock spilled over the sides, and from what she could tell streams of it had been channeled to the Tower she was now held prisoner within.
"Nobody said anything about a volcano," she muttered, still staring in wonder at it. Her head tilted to one side as she continued to stare. Something about it was ... off, though. She didn't know a whole lot about volcanoes, earthquakes yes, but something wasn't right about the one in Mordor.
Sighing heavily, she pulled her gaze away from the cone and focused on the area directly ahead of her. Somewhere, beyond the dark chain of mountains, was freedom. She could almost smell it. Unless that was really just the sulfur and ash from the erupting volcano she smelt. Carefully, she lowered herself until her bare feet touched the floor.
The graveness of the situation finally hitting her, Buffy swallowed hard as she turned and leaned against the chilly wall. Here she was, in some huge freaking tower in the middle of God knew where in this Mordor, and no apparent way to get out. Drumming her fingers on the wall, her head lowered and she sighed once more.
[Where are Xander and Willow?] she wondered. [Did they follow me into the portal? Or was there a portal to follow me into? What if I'm here alone?] Her head lifted as yelling from outside caught her attention for a moment. Once it passed, she continued to think. [If they did follow, where are they now? I didn't see them. What if they're out there ... somewhere ... wandering around in the dark? What if they're -]
"No, Buffy, don't think that," she said, shaking her head. "They're not dead. They aren't dead." Somehow, saying it aloud didn't make it anymore convincing. "They'll be all right. They're Xander and ... and Willow." Her legs gradually gave out under her and she slid down the wall until she was in a sitting position.
Tears filled her eyes. Her arms wrapped around her legs as she drew her knees closer to her chest. [Why is he doing this to me?] she thought, meaning Sauron. [What does he want? What is it?] Resting her head on her knees, she kept herself from fully sobbing despite how utterly alone she felt at this moment in time. [Why am I here?]
End Chapter 1
To Be Continued ...
Summary: Sauron wasn't too pleased with how things turned out in his encounter with the Scooby Gang. The future of the world is in danger. Can the Scoobs save it and themselves?
Spoilers: All of season three Buffy; not a whole lot for LOTR.
Disclaimer: All _Buffy_ characters belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy Productions. _Lord of the Rings_ characters and universe belong to Mr. J.R.R. Tolkien. We are but lowly fan fiction writers who enjoy spinning a good yarn. We are NOT making any money off this, nor are we trying to infringe on anyone's copyright. So don't sue us.
Authors' Notes: This story takes place just before season four in a seriously AU Buffy-verse. In the LOTR universe, it's during the Fellowship and the War of the Ring. Please send any and all feedback to: NetGrlWill@aol.com & NovusSibyl@aol.com. Flames are read, laughed at then deleted with extreme prejudice.
Dark Night of the Soul 2
By Net Girl & Sibyl
Chapter 1 - "A Friend In Need ... "
"Oh no."
Buffy Summers stared in stunned horror as half a dozen pointy-eared, puke green-gray skinned and generally ugly Orcs filed out of the glowing time rip that had appeared in her front yard. The Orcs made no mistake about where they intended to go. They headed straight for the Summers' front door. A moment later, Buffy gasped and whirled away from the window when she heard her front door being kicked in.
-
"Buffy!"
Willow Rosenberg, arms stretched out in front of her, sat up in bed and opened her eyes. Breathing heavily, she glanced around her darkened bedroom. Slowly, her arms dropped down as she calmed herself. The only sound in the room was the squeaking of Amy the Rat's exercise wheel. Willow's outburst had startled the poor witch-turned-rodent.
"A dream ... a dream ..." Willow murmured as her hands clutched at her chest. Beads of sweat lazily slid down the sides of her face. Throwing the blankets back, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, closed her eyes and took measured breaths. "A dream ... that's all."
The nightmare - a more proper term for it - had been going on for the last week. The lidless Eye that was Sauron dominated it. Always, he was after Buffy. For what reason, Willow didn't know. She couldn't do anything to stop him or to save Buffy from being taken by him. She wasn't powerful enough.
Willow wondered in passing how she'd managed to break free of him two months before. Was it her desire to be free? Was it some strange magick or perhaps something deeper? Whenever she thought back to that day, she felt as though a piece of her memory was missing. Something happened - she just knew it - but try as she did, she could never find the memory. Was it related to Sauron? Why did it bother her so?
Amy the Rat continued to squeak on her wheel. Suddenly, she stopped. Her rat nose twitched rapidly as she sensed something near. A few seconds later, she squeaked excitedly and began to circle her cage as though she was possessed. Or in so much fear she wanted out.
Willow's eyes closed as she let herself relax. [It was only a dream. He's not here. He's far in the past where he belongs.] Her muscles tightened as a familiar Darkness invaded her mind and heart. The lure of it tempted the young Wicca.
Soft whispers surrounded her, a voice murmured things in a language she'd heard before yet did not quite understand. The chill stabbed deeper and deeper into her body, it wouldn't let go. And the whispering voice became louder.
"Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul."
Her eyes flicked open and she stood up with a jolt. The voice faded away. It was more than a dream. Sauron, inadvertently, had warned her of doom to come. Something was going to happen - very soon. As fast as she possibly could, she changed out of her pajamas and into street clothes then headed for Xander Harris's house. They had to get together with Buffy.
Now.
-
Buffy's heart raced as she headed to her bedroom door. Once she cracked it open, she could hear the voices of the Orcs downstairs, talking. At intervals, the sound of something being knocked over mixed with the banter.
She glanced towards her mother's bedroom door and prayed Joyce wouldn't wake up. That was all she needed, to explain what these creatures were and why they were in the house, tearing things apart. She'd never bothered to tell her mother about Middle-earth. Giles's abrupt departure from Sunnydale was easily explained away - no library to tend, no longer officially Buffy's Watcher - so why give the woman more stress?
Her attention shifted back to her intruders when something in the living room - probably a vase - shattered, startling the young Slayer. Closing her door a little, she listened hard, trying to decipher what the Orcs downstairs said.
"Find the girl," one of the voices ordered, obviously annoyed that somebody made noise. "The Master won't take another failure. This time, we bring her back or it's the Big Fire for us."
"She isn't here," replied another. A moment later, something else clattered to the floor.
"Search her bed chamber, you ignorant worm!" snarled the first. "Find her and kill anyone else you find. The Dark Lord wants his mysteries."
"Not here," a third voice put in.
Buffy blanched. [Kill anyone else?] Her gaze flicked back to her mother's still closed bedroom door. [Please, Mom, please don't wake up.] She swallowed hard. The situation had been taken to another level now; a level that Buffy couldn't handle. The creaking of the stairs caught her attention once more and she ducked back into her room when she saw the top of an Orc head.
"God," she softly whispered. Her heart rate doubled and the adrenaline coursed at high speed through her veins. The impending battle excited her on a subconscious level and terrified her at the same time. She wanted them to come. Still, something about this whole scenario felt oddly familiar. Why, though?
"This way," one of the Orcs hissed. They were upstairs now, Buffy could tell, and headed for her room. "Don't kill the girl - the Master needs her alive."
Buffy's only advantage at the moment was the element of surprise. Sliding away from her door, she positioned herself so the door would hide her when the Orcs entered. Pressing her back against the wall, she waited. The pounding in her chest filled her ears now, she almost wondered if they couldn't hear it themselves.
Slowly, the door began to creak open.
[Wait ... wait ... wait for it,] she thought as the dim outlines of two Orcs cast themselves upon her floor.
"I told you, maggot, she's not here," said one. The voice was just on the other side of the door. Only a slim piece of wood separated Buffy from her unwelcome visitors. Her eyes closed as she tried to keep her breathing quiet and steady.
"Quiet, fool," hiss the first Orc. A pause and a sound as though the Orc was sniffing followed. "She is here."
Buffy decided if she wanted to keep her element of surprise, she had to move now. She kicked her door forward with every ounce of strength she could muster. The wood splintered and a pained yowl let her know she'd done some damage to at least one of the Orcs. As another Orc ripped what was left of the door away from its hinges, Buffy snatched up a shard of wood.
The battle had begun.
"Ah! You'll regret that, woman," growled the second Orc. He reached for her but Buffy planted a vicious side kick into him. She heard ribs crack as her foot made contact with the Orc's chest and sent him flying backwards across her room. He slammed hard into the wall and slumped on the floor, out cold. For now, at least.
Her eyes flicked down to the Orc she'd clocked with the door. He was doubled over, his hands cradling his profusely bleeding nose and face.
"Hey, pal, don't bleed on my floor." Buffy delivered a foot to the Orc's face, whipping his head back with such a force he found himself staring up at the ceiling, a dazed expression on his ugly face. Gripping the wooden shard in both hands, she brought it down into the center of the Orc's chest.
Before she could pull her makeshift stake out of the Orc, another came charging at her from down the hallway. She rolled out of the way and her head whipped around in time to see the Orc hit her bed with full force then slide up it until he banged his skull on her headboard. She grimaced.
"That's going to leave a mark, I bet," she mumbled then shook her head. Picking up another piece of wood, she scrambled out of her room and down the hall. At the top of her stairs, though, she came to an abrupt halt. "Shit." Three more Orcs were headed up the stairs.
"Grab her, you worms!" exclaimed the one whom Buffy assumed was the leader as he pointed to her. The other two followed the order without question.
"I'm just Popular Girl in any time period, aren't I?" she muttered as she headed away from the top of the stairs. She passed her mother's door, thankful that the noise hadn't roused Joyce from her sleep. She came to a stop again when the third Orc emerged from her room, rubbing the top of his head. Quickly, Buffy ducked into the bathroom.
"Now that was a really stupid move, Summers," she said as she looked around. "Right into a dead end."
While one Orc stumbled out of Buffy's room, two more arrived at the top of the stairs.
"Where is she?" demanded one of the newcomers to the third who rubbed his head. Before the other could answer, the sound of the shower being turned on caught their attention. "In there!" The three Orcs rushed for the bathroom.
The first one in the door took a stake to the chest from Buffy. "It's not nice to come into the bathroom when a lady's trying to take a shower!" she told him. "Brute!" A single punch to the face sent the staked Orc stumbling backwards into the others. They glanced at the dead Orc then at each other, a fear of the Slayer in both creatures' eyes.
Buffy flashed them a grin when both Orcs faced her. "Come and get me, boys," she teased, crooking a finger. As one of the Orcs advanced, Buffy seized him by the arm, pinned it behind his back then smashed his face into the bathroom mirror. Shards of bloodied glass fell into the sink and onto the floor. "Ooo, seven years bad luck!"
The Orc made some sort of groaning noise. It's free hand brushed over its face and picked at the mirror pieces embedded into his skin.
The Slayer picked up one of the jagged glass pieces and drove it into the jugular of the wounded Orc. Disgusting goo spurted out of the wound and all over the wall and sink when Buffy withdrew it from the Orc.
"More like seven seconds in your case, punk." She shoved the Orc out of the bathroom but the one still standing sidestepped this time.
His eyes dropped down to his two dead comrades in the upstairs hallway. Slowly, he lifted his head and growled at the Slayer who stood in the bathroom, staring at him with a smirk on her face. "You'll bleed for this, Slayer," he hissed at her.
Buffy glanced over her shoulder. The bathtub was thinly filled with water, but it was enough to do what she wanted it to. Her attention went back to the advancing Orc. His hands reached out for her, a murderous gleam in his eyes. Suddenly, she held up her hands, palms out, to him.
"Wait!" she exclaimed. To her surprise, he stopped, and probably to his surprise as well. She snatched up her hair dryer, aimed it at him and narrowed her eyes on the Orc. "Stay back! This is a deadly weapon! Only my kind knows how to wield it and control its powers!" She pressed the button and a stream of hot air spewed out of the end.
The Orc was stunned, but only for a moment. When he realized it was only warm air, and not some kind of killing beam or force, he snarled at her and advanced again. Buffy sidestepped at the last moment, drove her elbow into the middle of the Orc's back, knocked him off balance and sent him tumbling into the tub. She turned on her heel and looked down her nose at the Orc.
He brought up his hands, a terrified expression on his face that quickly morphed into relief. "It's just water!" he cried out. He looked up to Buffy, who still had the running hair dryer in her hand. "Stupid girl! It's just water!"
A wicked grin tugged at Buffy's mouth. "That's what you think." With that, she dropped the hair dryer into the bathtub. The Orc squealed, his body shaking violently as the electricity conducted itself throughout the water and into him. Sparks flickered from the water then the wall socket and Buffy took a few steps backwards. Soon, the hair dryer sputtered out and it died ... along with the Orc.
Buffy stared at the smoking Orc in the bathtub and she shook her head. "You know, I've always heard that meeting me is an electrifying experience." [Good one!] she thought, giving herself a mental high five. The back patting over her clever quip was cut short by Joyce's voice.
"BUFFY!"
"Mom!" Buffy flew out of the bathroom, turned to head for her mother's room but stopped cold when she saw the last of the Orcs. He laughed as he placed a long blade to Joyce's throat. Buffy looked from the glimmering blade to her mother - Joyce was, understandably, frightened, but even more confused at what was going on. "Mom ... "
The Orc laughed again. "Not so brave now, are we, girl?" The blade lowered just a bit from Joyce's neck, the point dragging lightly across the exposed skin near the collarbone. "Mother is a weakness, isn't she? Old Grishgork figured that out, I did, after all the others failed."
[What the hell's he blathering about?] Buffy wondered. But she didn't dwell on it long. Her thoughts turned to ways of saving her mother. The distance between them was minimal but it was enough for the Orc to slash Joyce's throat before Buffy could get there. She had no weapons at all, though a crossbow probably wouldn't have been of any use either. [Think, Buffy. You've survived so many things, you can't think of a way to get out of this?]
"Buffy ..." Joyce Summers' eyes brimmed with tears. "What ... what do they want?" She didn't know how she had the presence of mind to ask such a question. She gasped when the Orc pulled her closer, the blade piercing the tender flesh and a thin red line of blood trickled down her chest.
"Daughter knows what we want," the Orc answered. He shifted his gaze from Joyce to Buffy, smirking triumphantly now. "I'll cut her if you don't do what I say. Let her go if you do."
"Bullshit," snapped Buffy, her eyes burning into the Orc. She couldn't stop glancing at the blood on her mother's skin. [I'm going to make him sorry he ever found her. I'll tear his limbs off, cut him into a thousand pieces...] "I heard you guys talking - kill everyone else you discover. Your threat is empty, pal."
The Orc's head cocked to one side, but his smarmy smirk was still in place. He chuckled softly. "Either way, girl, you're coming with us. Our Master wants you."
"Your master too chicken to come after me himself?" asked Buffy, an eyebrow cocking. She pretended to have a revelation, and added, "Oh wait, I forgot, he doesn't even have a friggin' body so he CAN'T come after me!"
The Orc smiled wider, baring his gnarled teeth at her. "You have no choice - you come."
"You're not taking my daughter anywhere!" Joyce jammed her elbow into the ribs of the Orc, his grip on her loosened but she didn't stop there. She stomped down hard on the Orc's left foot, whirled around and punched the creature in the face. The knife fell out of his hand as he smacked up against the wall. Quickly, Joyce picked up the knife and held it on the Orc as Buffy ran up behind her. "You're not so bad without this, are you?"
Buffy blinked as she looked at the Orc, who held his bleeding nose, then to her mother. Joyce had an expression on her face Buffy rarely saw - she could've been a Slayer herself!
"Mom?" she calmly said, reaching out a hand. "Give me the knife and let me take care of it from here. Okay?"
Joyce let go of the knife as Buffy wrapped her fingers around it then Joyce's hand brushed over the minor wound the Orc had inflicted upon her. She glanced from Buffy to the Orc.
"What ... what are they doing here?" she asked, her voice slightly distant. She seemed astonished she'd managed to save herself, but the thought of Buffy being taken from her - it was too much to bear.
Before Buffy could lie her way out of it, a loud whinny of a horse accompanied by a chilling shriek came from somewhere outside. Joyce and Buffy whirled, eyes wide and the exact same expression of frightened surprise on each woman's face.
"What was that?" Joyce's hushed voice inquired. She trembled gently. She'd become privy to a lot of things because of Buffy's Slayer duty, but never had she heard anything such as that. She swallowed hard and slid her gaze over to Buffy.
Buffy gripped the handle of the Orc's blade so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her heart pounded in her chest. [What the hell was that?] Even she didn't know. Of course, if it was something sent by Sauron, it couldn't be good. "I don't know," she whispered in reply.
The Orc, spotting his chance to escape, shoved Buffy into Joyce before taking off down the stairs. Buffy narrowly avoided impaling her mother with the knife as she collided with Joyce. The Orc's maniacal laughter drifted up the stairs and gradually died away.
"Mom, are you okay?" Buffy asked as Joyce leaned against the wall for support. She looked her mother over, a twinge of anger flaring up when she spotted that cut near Joyce's collarbone. "Mom?"
Joyce nodded then waved a hand at the stairs. "I'm fine, Buffy. Go," she replied, that motherly tone in her voice. "Stop him before he hurts somebody else."
"Mom -" Buffy began. She wanted to get even with that Orc for what he'd done, but what about that ... whatever that noise was outside? It wasn't her own safety she feared for, but Joyce's. If that thing killed her, it would surely come and kill her mother.
"Go!" Joyce gave her a push. She met her daughter's gaze; her eyes filled with worry but also a resolve. "You have to protect others from him. I'll be fine by myself."
Buffy pressed her lips together, her chest tightened as she thought for a moment then she stepped back from Joyce. [I have to. She'll be fine. It's me they wanted, anyway. And it's me they're going to get.] With a nod, Buffy thundered down the stairs to finish what the Orcs had started.
"If Sauron wants to party, we'll party. He'll be sorry he ever decided to come to the future," she murmured as she reached the bottom of the steps. She flew out of the doorless front door, hopped off the porch and skidded to a halt. "Whoa ... " she said, her eyes affixed to what was before her.
The surviving Orc cackled as he leapt through the time rip and vanished. But that wasn't why Buffy stopped. Before her, mounted on a monstrous black horse, was a rider shrouded completely in black robes. The hood was so long it hung over his face so Buffy couldn't see him. The steed he rode upon, its legs ... they almost appeared to glimmer in the light of the street lamps. It took her a minute to realize that the glimmering substance was blood.
She took two steps back, her eyes traveled up the length of the rider and stopped at his hooded head. "Who the hell are you?" she asked. The rider reined the horse around, though his attention never left the blonde below him. "Hey, buddy, I asked you a question." Still no comment from the rider. "Don't you know there's a law about having animals that size within the city limits? You're messing up my lawn, too."
Slowly, a hand raised and reached out towards her and a gloved finger pointed. "Slayer," the rider hissed in a tone that didn't sound very human to Buffy. The voice made her blood run cold, so cold she shivered despite herself. It was like the screams of millions of people in horrible agony.
"Yeah, Slayer. That's me, pal," she said when she found her own voice. She licked her lips and her sweaty hand gripped the knife handle tight.
"Slayer ... come," the rider continued as he crooked a finger and beckoned her towards him.
For the briefest of moments, Buffy actually considered doing as the rider commanded. She blinked twice then shook her head, and the odd feeling lifted from her. A hand absently brushed over the pendant Galadriel had given her. "I've got a better idea," she replied, narrowing her eyes at the figure. "You ... die."
Expertly, she threw the knife at the rider, aiming for his heart. The blade penetrated his flesh and made a muted 'thunk'ing sound upon impact. The horse whinnied again and the rider screeched loudly, trying to control his steed while grabbing at the blade.
Buffy put her hands on her hips and shook her head. "This Sauron isn't as bad assed as everyone's letting on." She scoffed.
The rider hissed lowly as he pulled the knife from his chest, tossed the blade - or what was left of it - onto the ground before her. Buffy stared at the knife, stunned at what she saw. It was as though the metal had been melted off. The rider wasn't hurt at all. Probably more annoyed than anything.
She lifted her head again. The Slayer barely had time to scream before the black rider seized her by the arm then yanked her with little effort onto the horse. The animal whinnied loudly and the screech of the rider combined with it in the warm night air.
-
Willow skidded to a halt and Xander, who'd been struggling to keep her pace, bumped into her. She looked around - that feeling inside of her was more intense than ever now. She knew he was near in some capacity - Sauron. Memories of him flooded her mind, the power that so intoxicated her while she was bearer of a lesser ring. Her heart sank as another screech broke the quiet of the small town.
Xander, though, gasped in a sudden breath. "Will ... what the hell was that?" he asked in a low voice. "And before you answer ... do I really want to know?" Any fear he had disappeared when Buffy screamed.
Willow closed her eyes and her head bowed. "No, please," she softly murmured. Her hands balled into fists at her sides. [This can't be happening, it can't be real. It can't be.] But the dream had come true - Sauron had found a way into the future. And he had come for Buffy.
"Come on, Will! Move it!" Xander ordered as he clamped a hand on her arm then gave her a push to get her to going. "Let's go! We have to help her!"
Willow had no hope of helping Buffy. She already knew they were too late. Still, she followed after Xander.
"Get you hands off of me!" Buffy yelled as she struggled under the arm of the rider. To her confusion, she was powerless against him. Every punch she delivered had no effect on him. Whatever this thing was, it was more than a match for a Slayer.
Xander and Willow rounded the corner and came to an abrupt halt in Buffy's front yard. The rider was headed for the time rip with Buffy clutched under one arm. Her legs wildly kicked and her fingers dug into the shoulder of the hooded man. He paid no mind to her futile attempts to free herself.
"Buffy!" Xander shouted. "Come on, Willow!" He grabbed her wrist and pulled her along - towards the open rip. "Buffy! We're going to help you!"
Buffy's head turned just in time for her to see Xander, dragging Willow with him, coming after her. She reached out desperately for her friends. "Xander! Willow! Help me!" And in the next instant, she disappeared into the time rip with the rider. "Xander!!!"
Willow stopped just short of the rip and Xander whirled around. "What are you doing?" he demanded. He gestured towards the rip. "They just took Buffy! We have to go and get her." He noticed the petrified look on Willow's face. "Willow ... what's the matter with you?"
"We can't go back there ... I can't." She shook her head. Sauron almost had her in his power the last time. She didn't want to chance it. There was a reason she kept dreaming about him over the last two months. More than likely, it wasn't because he was a caring soul. "Xander ... "
Xander's eyes narrowed on her for a moment. "I can't believe this," he replied. He glanced back at the rip then looked to Willow. "Fine. Stay here. I'm going to get her back." With that said, he jumped into the time rip and vanished.
Willow remained as though she was rooted to the space in front of the opening. She couldn't just jump in this time, not like she had before. She knew what lay on the other side. That evil - her arms wrapped around herself as she became cold. Shivering, she continued to stare at the time rip.
[I can't go. Buffy, I'm sorry. You know I can't. I'm so sorry.]
"Willow ... " a voice, so familiar, faintly whispered. It seemed to originate from within the rip. Soft-spoken words in the Black Tongue followed. Then the rip began to flicker and become unable to sustain itself. "Come ..."
Willow closed her eyes. She gasped sharply when the lidless Eye flashed in her mind. Surprised, and frightened, her eyes flew open. The whispering faded away but the icy coldness remained with her. Sauron, even in the past, had a hold on her. Perhaps not as significant as before though she still felt his presence - she always had, even upon waking in Buffy's bedroom two months ago.
Against her better judgment, she stepped into the shimmering portal and embarked on another journey to the past. As soon as she'd entered it and disappeared, the rip in Sunnydale sealed itself. No evidence was left behind to indicate that anything out of the ordinary had happened there.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
The trip through the portal to the past wasn't anything like Willow remembered it being the first time, probably because she didn't remember the trip the first time. She was so concerned with Buffy not being stuck wherever the portal led alone she paid no mind to the actual getting there. A multi-colored tube swirled around her, sparking and glowing at various points in the journey. Ahead of her, she could make out the faint sound of Xander's voice - he was yelling something. She couldn't hear it clearly.
Soon, a bright flash blinded Willow temporarily, and like her arrival in the Shire, she landed hard on her stomach on the ground. Blinking a few times, she groaned then pushed herself up onto her hands then looked around. A few feet away, Xander leaned against the wall of a building, one hand on his head tending a minor cut he'd received.
"Are you okay?" she asked as she managed to sit up. She rubbed a hand over her stomach, glanced around and wrinkled her nose. "Where are we?" Her gaze shifted back over to Xander. He didn't reply. He didn't even look at her. "Xander. Hello? I'm asking a question. Do you have any idea where we are?"
Xander pulled his hand back away from his head, gazed at his bloodied fingers for a few moments then shook his head. "No, I don't," he mumbled. "All I do know is ... wherever we are, Buffy and the mounted freak who kidnapped her aren't here."
Willow stood up, took a moment to make sure she was properly balanced and made her way over to Xander. "We'll find her, Xander," she told him. She didn't sound convincing at all. She didn't even try to fake convincing. Looking down at him, she added, "Are you sure you're okay? That cut's pretty nasty."
"What would you care?" he muttered as he stood up, instantly turning his back on her.
"Huh?" She blinked once. "What?"
"Oh, I'm just talking about your reaction back in Sunnydale, that's all," he replied with a coldness in his voice that Willow rarely heard from him. He glanced over his shoulder at the baffled red head. "I can't believe you did that, Willow. You saw what happened to Buffy the same as I did. And you stopped. When I got here and you didn't come out of the portal after me, for a moment, I thought you weren't coming at all."
Willow pressed her lips together and lowered her gaze to the ground. "Xander, I - I ... you don't know what I -"
"I don't care, Willow." He whirled around, eyes narrowed at her. "You show up at my house, practically beat down my door while screaming about how we need to go see Buffy and now. Then we witness her kidnapping and you don't do a damn thing but stand there."
She sighed heavily. "As I was telling you, Xander, you don't know what I heard. What I saw."
"I can only assume it was the same things I heard and saw." He glanced around the alleyway they were in, wondering where in Middle-earth they were and how far away Buffy and her kidnapper were in relation to it. "Didn't think we'd be back here so soon. More like ever."
Willow sighed again, a knot growing in her gut. Xander was too upset to care about what she had to say, not that it necessarily excused him, but she could understand. He loved Buffy very much, as did she, though his experiences in Middle-earth hadn't altered him in the same manner as Willow. He could sleep at nights; she could not. He could close his eyes without seeing that Eye. He could be alone and not hear that voice ... that whispering voice ...
"Let's figure out where we are," Xander said, breaking the silence. He dabbed at his wound, wincing a little but he figured he would be okay. Nobody in this place would wonder about a cut. "Then we ... figure out where Buffy is."
"Right. C'mon."
The two of them emerged from the alley, at which point Xander smiled in recognition.
"Bree! Could be worse, right?" he asked Willow, his spirits rising a little. If Buffy was here, too, things were looking up.
"I guess," Willow replied half-heartedly. Not that she disagreed with him, but just being back here... so close to Sauron... was already starting to make her nervous. How long before he realized she'd come back?
At any rate, none of the people - Men and the odd Hobbit - out walking were running around, screaming or otherwise alarmed, so she doubted that cloaked rider had come through here any time recently. Looking around, she did spot a familiar landmark. "There's that inn we stayed at. Might as well start there."
"Yeah."
The inn of the Prancing Pony was exactly as they remembered it - crowded, noisy, smelly and dimly lit, at least by their 20th century standards, yet still possessing no small amount of rough charm. There were only a few patrons at this early hour - a handful of Hobbits enjoying one of their many daily meals, a few older Men brooding over their ales, and two tables filled with swarthy (at least by Bree-standards) folk who spoke with strange accents.
"So... now what?" Xander whispered.
"You're supposed to be good at this kinda thing! All those times you went and beat up Willy for info, remember?" Willow whispered back, then sighed at the look on his face. "Go ask the bartender if he's seen Buffy, maybe?"
"That might work," Xander conceded.
Willow watched as he headed over to the bar and struck up a conversation with Barliman Butterbur. After a moment, she tuned that out and looked around the bar. The Hobbits had just left, and the old Bree-landers were starting to nod off. That left the foreigners, or were they just another local ethnic group? Willow had no idea, and she wasn't about to go over and ask.
She suddenly flinched and turned away.
Two of them were staring at her.
[You're imagining things - like hell I am,] she thought, keeping her back towards them. But she could still feel them watching her. [It's just because you're the only girl in the place... and the only redhead in town...]
Even to her, it didn't sound convincing.
[Xander, hurry *up*!]
Somehow, she managed not to scream when Xander put his hand on her shoulder.
"You okay?" he asked, noticing how pale she was.
"You startled me," Willow replied. Before he could challenge that, she asked, "What did he say?"
"Nothing. Well, nothing about Buffy and that creepy horse guy, anyway. I do know more about this year's ale than I ever wanted to, though."
Willow sighed. Somehow, she had expected they wouldn't get any help here, but it was still frustrating. "Now what do we do?"
"We find Buffy," Xander replied. "If these people can't help us, we'll find someone who can."
"Who?"
Xander sighed theatrically. "The people who ruined my Christmas."
"Oh. Great," Willow muttered. She still had lingering doubts about Elves, doubts that she couldn't get rid of even though she knew their true source. "Let's just get out of here, okay?"
-
Two hours later, they passed through the South Gate. Gone were their watches, bartered away in exchange for much-needed traveling gear. They had come out far ahead on the deal, gaining rucksacks, bedrolls, a sturdy frying pan, a pair of sharp knives, walking sticks, and a few days worth of food. The man who had bought the watches had clearly thought he'd come out ahead nonetheless, marveling as he had over the 'Dwarven' craftsmanship.
Marveling over that and also strongly warning Willow and Xander against going east, he had, in fact, seemed almost dumbstruck at the very idea, but would only mutter something about wars when Xander had asked why.
"East is East and Bree is Bree, and that's all I care," was the shopkeep's way of closing the conversation.
So it was on that note that the two of them set out on the long road to Rivendell.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
Much further southeast of where Willow and Xander had arrived in Middle-earth, Buffy Summers arrived at a place seen by few and feared by many. Deep in the heart of Mordor, in the foulest and least pleasant land in the whole of Middle-earth, sat the Dark Tower of Barad-dûr. The Lord of Mordor, or what was left of him after so many long ages of decay and darkness, resided within its adamant walls.
Settled on a bleak and jagged outcrop of the Ash Mountains, Sauron's rebuilt fortress was once again alive with activity. She didn't see much of the place because of a darkness that shrouded the lands, a darkness which the black-clad figure didn't seem to be bothered by as he rode hard through the towering gates with her.
Though she couldn't see much of anything, the darkness did nothing to inhibit her ability to hear clearly. Voices shouting, accompanied by the sounds of construction, and every so often a piercing scream, gave her some clue as to how big a force Sauron had working for him. It was a large force, numbering in the thousands at the very least, from what she gathered.
The rest of Middle-earth was in for quite a battle. And it wasn't going to be pretty when it happened. Despite knowing her future was secure, Buffy still felt fearful of it all. What if something changed? What if her being there changed everything? The free people of Middle-earth could fail for some reason - Hobbits, Elves and the rest, all under Sauron's grasp - and then, worse, her own world would be gone.
After what seemed to be forever, Buffy's kidnapper reined his horse to a halt, dismounted then pulled her off of the horse after him. Refusing to give in, she renewed her struggles to escape. As before, it was useless. Something about this freaky guy wasn't bothered by Slayer-strength punches or kicks, and he didn't respond to any of her snide comments, either.
She lifted her head as she was carried up an endless flight of black stairs. Taking a look around, she marveled at the architecture of the place - grim, but magnificent all the same. As far as Evil Villain Lairs went, Sauron certainly had the best - hands down. So to speak. Of course, Buffy hadn't seen many unless she counted the decrepit mansion outside of Sunnydale Angelus, Spike and Drusilla had used for a base of operations.
Once again, the kidnapper came to a stop. The sound of a large door being opened was followed by the low groan of hinges in awful need of WD-40. Buffy craned her head around as she tried to get a better look at where she'd been taken. She'd no more than moved her head when the hooded figure practically tossed her into the darkened room.
"OOF!" She hit the floor, which felt almost like metal to her, hard. "Ow," she muttered as she placed her hands on the floor to push up from it. She flipped her hair out of her face then narrowed her eyes on the hooded figure standing in the doorway just staring at her. "You're going to be sorry you did that," she warned.
The figure stared at her for another moment then flung the door shut. The clang of metal on metal reverberated throughout the cell the Slayer had been placed in. Closing her eyes, she prayed it would cease. In a few minutes, the cell had become almost dead silent. Faint noises could be heard yet none of them clear enough for her to distinguish what they were. Sitting back on her heels, Buffy gave the cell a once over.
"Well, looks like this is home for awhile. Until I can escape, that is," she said to herself. She slowly got to her feet, wandered over to the far wall and placed her hands on it. Her brow furrowed. The walls were much like the floor - made out of the same metallic material. She slammed an open palm against the wall then muttered a curse as she shook her stung hand. She flexed her fingers. "Punching my way through that is out."
She turned away from the wall and scanned the rest of the room. It wasn't a horribly small cell, and it wasn't exactly the Ritz-Carlton, either. No bed, no lights, nothing in the way of a bathroom, which concerned her for a moment. The only thing she had was a barred window on the opposite side of her cell. This was where the noises originated from as well.
The Slayer crossed the cold cell floor, reached up above her head and latched her fingers around the bars over the open window. Easily, she hoisted herself up until she could peer through the bars. Her eyes widened slightly at what she saw outside. Far off in the distance, perhaps not all that far, a volcano continuously belched out lava. The red-orange molten rock spilled over the sides, and from what she could tell streams of it had been channeled to the Tower she was now held prisoner within.
"Nobody said anything about a volcano," she muttered, still staring in wonder at it. Her head tilted to one side as she continued to stare. Something about it was ... off, though. She didn't know a whole lot about volcanoes, earthquakes yes, but something wasn't right about the one in Mordor.
Sighing heavily, she pulled her gaze away from the cone and focused on the area directly ahead of her. Somewhere, beyond the dark chain of mountains, was freedom. She could almost smell it. Unless that was really just the sulfur and ash from the erupting volcano she smelt. Carefully, she lowered herself until her bare feet touched the floor.
The graveness of the situation finally hitting her, Buffy swallowed hard as she turned and leaned against the chilly wall. Here she was, in some huge freaking tower in the middle of God knew where in this Mordor, and no apparent way to get out. Drumming her fingers on the wall, her head lowered and she sighed once more.
[Where are Xander and Willow?] she wondered. [Did they follow me into the portal? Or was there a portal to follow me into? What if I'm here alone?] Her head lifted as yelling from outside caught her attention for a moment. Once it passed, she continued to think. [If they did follow, where are they now? I didn't see them. What if they're out there ... somewhere ... wandering around in the dark? What if they're -]
"No, Buffy, don't think that," she said, shaking her head. "They're not dead. They aren't dead." Somehow, saying it aloud didn't make it anymore convincing. "They'll be all right. They're Xander and ... and Willow." Her legs gradually gave out under her and she slid down the wall until she was in a sitting position.
Tears filled her eyes. Her arms wrapped around her legs as she drew her knees closer to her chest. [Why is he doing this to me?] she thought, meaning Sauron. [What does he want? What is it?] Resting her head on her knees, she kept herself from fully sobbing despite how utterly alone she felt at this moment in time. [Why am I here?]
End Chapter 1
To Be Continued ...
