Yeah, yeah I know it isn't mine. Not the Buffy characters, not the LOTR
characters, not the Guns N' Roses song, not the pen I stole from the bank
to write this fic with. But hey, at least we're getting to the songfic
part now! Also, I know I am very, very evil for doing this to Dawn and our
Legsy, but there is a sad and interesting story here, promise! I think
Spike fans will enjoy (unfortunately, later Spike, not Big Bad Spike).
Although I love them both, Big Bad just has no place here right now.
R&R please, reviews are a drug and I am addicted so please support my
habit, it costs less than most and doesn't leave a bad smell.
~Anoron
CHAPTER THREE- HELL IS WHERE THE HEART IS
// If we could see tomorrow, what of your plans?
No-one can live in sorrow, ask all your friends
Times that you took in stride they're back in demand
I was the one who was washing blood off your hands //
Dawn's eyes sprang open and she gasped. 'Legolas?', the thought flashed across her mind before she even regarded her location. Not at all like the warrior she had become during the War of the Ring, but she didn't care. She looked around for her husband.
She recognised her surroundings immediately. It had been a century since she'd seen her old home in Sunnydale, but the house looked exactly the same as she'd remembered. Familiar faces stared back at her. Five of them. They were all crying.
Dawn didn't understand what was happening at all. One moment she'd been so happy she though she would burst, the next, she'd felt a searing pain and her old life, long left behind, rushing back like a stake to the heart. How could this have happened?
"We did it," Willow whispered, eyes wide as she took Dawn in. "We brought you back."
Dawn's eyes widened as she stared at the witch. They had done this? Why would they do this to her? What had she done to deserve everything she held dear being taken away?
She was lying on the couch, dressed in the clothing she could only guess she had been buried in. The comforting sensation of a cool mithril band around her finger told her without looking that she was, somehow, still wearing her wedding ring. Perhaps the blessing Galadriel had performed on it had enchanted it somehow to remain with her essence. She really didn't care how, as long as it was with her. She pushed herself into a sitting position, warily regarding Willow.
"You're home now Dawny," a voice she would know anywhere told her softly.
She stared at Buffy. Home. She was home? This wasn't home, home was a forest paradise another world away. This was the Hellmouth. Her forehead creased and her eyes glittered dangerously at the word.
Tara smiled timidly. "We did an 'Aura Scan' for you sweetie, and you weren't in any of the Heavenly dimensions, so we rescued you."
"We brought you out of hell. You're safe now," Xander added.
Dawn just shook her head at them. She couldn't believe this was happening. Buffy sat down beside her and gently brushed her sister's hair back from her face. Buffy had done it a million times before, and Dawn had always found the contact soothing. But now she had to resist the temptation to pull away from her sister. The touch made her skin crawl.
"How long has it been?" Buffy asked quietly.
When Dawn finally spoke, her voice was as flat and numb as she felt. "Hundred years..."
"Oh God," Willow murmured, aghast. "Dawny, we're so sorry we didn't pull you out sooner."
The bitter scowl that flitted across Dawn's face was completely misinterpreted by those around her.
The last silent person in the room, whom Dawn had overlooked at first, spoke. "It's been three months here without you," Spike told her.
When Dawn looked up at Spike, pain flashed so brilliantly across her face the others were taken aback. Spike looked hurt by Dawn's expression. She was staring at him, for the first time noticing how much he looked like Legolas. The slender, but well muscled body, the pale blond hair, and the blue eyes reminded Dawn so sharply of her husband that she couldn't conceal her pain.
Xander's eyes narrowed at the vampire. "What the hell did you do to her?"
"Me?" Spike shot back. "I didn't do anything, I'm just standing here. You're all the ones who've been doing major mojo on the Bit tonight, and you're surprised she's a little shocked!?"
"You're upsetting her!" Xander yelled. "I don't know what you're up to Spike, but you've been against this from the start and now look what you've done!" Xander was gesturing to Dawn, who by now had completely shut herself off from the world. She was staring blankly ahead, barely breathing even, and her pale face looked almost like a corpse.
"Get away from her," Xander growled in a low, dangerous voice.
After taking one last concerned look at Dawn, Spike turned and stormed out the front door. He'd be back before sunrise, anyway.
Buffy touched Dawn's arm lightly. "Dawny? Sweetheart? He's gone, it's ok now."
Slowly, Dawn refocused on the world around her. As soon as she did, though, she found she could hardly stand the sight of the people crowded around her.
"I'm tired. I'm going to bed." Without another word she walked slowly up to her old room.
She reached the door and stumbled slightly as she walked through. A slight frown formed over her features at her own clumsiness. There was a faint twinge in her stomach. She couldn't remember the last time she had moved with anything other than the grace that comes from a century of walking amongst the Elves. With a click, the rest of the world was locked out and she walked slowly to the bed.
With one tug, the covers were pulled back, exposing the crisp white sheets beneath. Dawn lay on the sheets without bothering to replace the covers over herself. When her stomach contracted again, with more force than last time, Dawn did not react at all. She knew exactly what it was...
~~~
Dawn looked around and smiled. She was perfectly content. She lived in a beautiful realm, of which she was about to be Queen. And she loved the Elf who would be her King, the Prince of her heart, with every fibre of her being. She hardly dared believe this perfect existence was hers forever. Part of her couldn't help but wonder if the last century had been nothing more than a pleasant dream.
But no, she knew it was real. If this had been a dream for her, all her friends would yet live. The Hobbits, Eowyn, Eomer and Faramir. Estel, her brother. If the world was perfect, one of her dearest living friends Arwen would not have spent the last forty years a widow. A cloud passed over Dawn's eyes for the briefest second as she thought of the mortals she loved so dearly. In this she included her Sunnydale family (even Spike, though she knew he wasn't mortal), she missed them all at times. But they were safe, and resting. She knew it in her heart, and the knowledge gave her the freedom to live out her immortality happily as they would have wanted. In fact, practically Estel's last words to her were orders for her to mind hers and her husband's happiness. She had not let her brother down.
Dawn smiled down at her stomach. For the past week she hadn't been sure, but now there was no mistaking it. She'd been feeling queasy in the mornings, much to the worry of her husband, and she could feel the life growing inside her. She was having a baby. Legolas' baby. She sighed and left the balcony, turning back into the bedroom she shared with Legolas. It had come as quite a stir when the Prince had first brought his Princess home, a century ago now. Legolas had insisted that Dawn share his chambers, instead of being placed in her own suite. Such a thing had never before been heard of from Elvish royalty, but Thranduil, so happy with his son's euphoria, so delighted with having his new daughter-in-law home, yielded to their request all too easily.
Legolas was just coming through the door, having been sequestered with his father in meetings all day. His face lit up at the sight of his bride. After all these years, he still couldn't quite believe she was real, and she was his. He noticed her eyes shining with happy tears. Seeing her happiness caused a smile to spread over his own features immediately. He didn't even have to ask.
"Hey honey," her soft, sweet voice floated across the room to him, Dawn herself barely a step behind. She reached him and looked down, a strange blush creeping over her cheeks to complement the smile she could not contain.
"What, melamin?" Legolas asked, laughter creeping into his voice with anticipation.
"Well..." she looked up at him. "We're going to have a baby, Legolas." She touched her stomach lightly. "I'm pregnant."
Legolas gaped at her a moment, trying to digest her words. Then it sank in: he was going to be a father. He gave a shout of joy, which neither had even known was possible to come from an Elf, and swept her up in his arms, twirling her about and kissing her passionately.
~~~
Dawn looked down at her stomach. She could feel the sharp twinges in her stomach increasing, but did not flinch.
A pool of blood seeped out from beneath her. As the white sheets were stained red, Dawn could feel the life draining out of her. Her baby's life, the little part of Legolas she had inside her slipping away. She waited a few minutes, staring straight up at the ceiling with a faraway look in his eyes until the sensation was over.
She pulled the covers over her to cover the mess of her miscarriage and continued to stare up at the ceiling. No longer were her eyes unfocused, they were now hard and cold. They glittered like harsh green gems in the darkness as she assessed her situation, in the manner of a warrior. Just like her brother taught her. She didn't notice that her hands came up to rest on her chest and she subconsciously clutched at her wedding ring so tightly that if it were made from any metal other than mithril, it may very well have bent.
She was in Sunnydale. She had been brought here willingly by people who claimed to love her, but who had hurt her more than she'd ever thought possible. Feeling betrayed by Legolas at Helm's Deep, a crime long forgiven and almost completely forgotten, seemed so petty in comparison to being ripped out of Middle-Earth to be brought "home" to the Hellmouth. These people were no longer her family. Because of them, her unborn child was dead. They were the enemy.
A tight, icy smile formed on her lips. They didn't have to know that they were the enemy. Estel would be pleased to know how well she was fighting with her brains, instead of just her sword. Though if Me'ahyanda was with her, Dawn didn't discount the idea that she would exact her revenge on her enemy this very night. She shook her head. Idiots. Didn't they know that just because she hadn't been in one of the Heavenly dimensions, that didn't mean she wasn't in Heaven, as she saw it.
She forced herself to focus on the situation at hand. Morning was only a few hours away, and she would have to be ready. She had to have her course of action organised in her mind by then. Priority number one: getting home, Dawn told herself. She refused to believe she belonged here Besides, she couldn't live without Legolas. She needed him, and she would do anything to get him back.
She almost grimaced when she thought of the time differences between Sunnydale and Mirkwood. Three months in hell was a century at home. What if she was too late? What if she couldn't find a way and Legolas forgot her? Dawn cut the thoughts off immediately. It wouldn't do to think like that now. Estel would be disappointed in her if she lost her head now.
She reminded herself of her first priority, and moved on to identifying her second. Less than five seconds passed before she realised she had no other priority. She would see Legolas again or die trying. She only hoped the twins and Arwen would come and take care of him. And Gimli had been due to arrive in Mirkwood within a day of her being taken away, Gimli always knew how to best cater for his Elven friend's moods.
The faint click of the front door closing told her that Spike had come back. She listened to his footsteps as he made his way to the basement. After he'd practically moved in whilst they were facing the First, he'd never really moved out. No matter where else he had to live, it was like an unspoken understanding between them all that the bed in the basement belonged to Spike.
Dawn squeezed her eyes shut tight at the thought of the blond-haired, blue-eyed immortal downstairs. Despite his innate darkness, he was so much like Legolas, something she'd never realised in all her years in Middle- Earth. But it had hit her with an amazing force tonight. Aside from the similar physical traits, which had been the primary reason she'd reacted so badly on really looking at him earlier that night, there were many personality traits the Vampire and the Elf shared. A lethal warrior, a force not to be reckoned with, and a passionate lover, who gave his entire heart and soul over to emotion. They didn't just love, they loved with all they had. Dawn bit her lip. She wanted Legolas so badly right now.
Again, she turned her thoughts to a more practical avenue. She had to get home, but the others couldn't help her because she didn't want to tell them where she had been. They'd treat her like she was made of glass, like they'd tried to treat Buffy after resurrecting her that time. And that had gone so well. Honestly, did these people never learn?
She was alone in this. She had to tread carefully, Dawn knew she couldn't let on to them that anything was wrong with her being here. She had to make them think she was fine so they'd give her the space she'd need for her research. And she had no idea how long it would take until she found a way home. Once she had that, she didn't care what the people around her knew, what they thought. She'd do whatever it would take to get back to Mirkwood, and never give Sunnydale and its inhabitants a backwards glance.
The sun was rising. Dawn's room was becoming lighter around her. Slowly, the house stirred into life. Dawn listened as Buffy, Willow and Tara got up and began to move about, eventually heading downstairs.
She waited until they had all gone down before getting up herself. She stared down at the pool of blood she had lain in all night for what felt like the longest time, before firmly covering it over with the quilt. She would deal with the mess later, when she had some time alone.
She showered quickly and dressed in black jeans and a black tank top, fighting the urge to braid her hair in the Elvish fashion as a sign of her rank of Princess. She left her hair loose and steeled herself in the mirror.
"Showtime," she whispered almost maliciously to her cold reflection.
* * * * *
Uh-oh. Showtime? Stay tuned for a glimpse back at the Mirkwood clan, and piles and piles of angst. Did I mention the angst? ~Anoron.
CHAPTER THREE- HELL IS WHERE THE HEART IS
// If we could see tomorrow, what of your plans?
No-one can live in sorrow, ask all your friends
Times that you took in stride they're back in demand
I was the one who was washing blood off your hands //
Dawn's eyes sprang open and she gasped. 'Legolas?', the thought flashed across her mind before she even regarded her location. Not at all like the warrior she had become during the War of the Ring, but she didn't care. She looked around for her husband.
She recognised her surroundings immediately. It had been a century since she'd seen her old home in Sunnydale, but the house looked exactly the same as she'd remembered. Familiar faces stared back at her. Five of them. They were all crying.
Dawn didn't understand what was happening at all. One moment she'd been so happy she though she would burst, the next, she'd felt a searing pain and her old life, long left behind, rushing back like a stake to the heart. How could this have happened?
"We did it," Willow whispered, eyes wide as she took Dawn in. "We brought you back."
Dawn's eyes widened as she stared at the witch. They had done this? Why would they do this to her? What had she done to deserve everything she held dear being taken away?
She was lying on the couch, dressed in the clothing she could only guess she had been buried in. The comforting sensation of a cool mithril band around her finger told her without looking that she was, somehow, still wearing her wedding ring. Perhaps the blessing Galadriel had performed on it had enchanted it somehow to remain with her essence. She really didn't care how, as long as it was with her. She pushed herself into a sitting position, warily regarding Willow.
"You're home now Dawny," a voice she would know anywhere told her softly.
She stared at Buffy. Home. She was home? This wasn't home, home was a forest paradise another world away. This was the Hellmouth. Her forehead creased and her eyes glittered dangerously at the word.
Tara smiled timidly. "We did an 'Aura Scan' for you sweetie, and you weren't in any of the Heavenly dimensions, so we rescued you."
"We brought you out of hell. You're safe now," Xander added.
Dawn just shook her head at them. She couldn't believe this was happening. Buffy sat down beside her and gently brushed her sister's hair back from her face. Buffy had done it a million times before, and Dawn had always found the contact soothing. But now she had to resist the temptation to pull away from her sister. The touch made her skin crawl.
"How long has it been?" Buffy asked quietly.
When Dawn finally spoke, her voice was as flat and numb as she felt. "Hundred years..."
"Oh God," Willow murmured, aghast. "Dawny, we're so sorry we didn't pull you out sooner."
The bitter scowl that flitted across Dawn's face was completely misinterpreted by those around her.
The last silent person in the room, whom Dawn had overlooked at first, spoke. "It's been three months here without you," Spike told her.
When Dawn looked up at Spike, pain flashed so brilliantly across her face the others were taken aback. Spike looked hurt by Dawn's expression. She was staring at him, for the first time noticing how much he looked like Legolas. The slender, but well muscled body, the pale blond hair, and the blue eyes reminded Dawn so sharply of her husband that she couldn't conceal her pain.
Xander's eyes narrowed at the vampire. "What the hell did you do to her?"
"Me?" Spike shot back. "I didn't do anything, I'm just standing here. You're all the ones who've been doing major mojo on the Bit tonight, and you're surprised she's a little shocked!?"
"You're upsetting her!" Xander yelled. "I don't know what you're up to Spike, but you've been against this from the start and now look what you've done!" Xander was gesturing to Dawn, who by now had completely shut herself off from the world. She was staring blankly ahead, barely breathing even, and her pale face looked almost like a corpse.
"Get away from her," Xander growled in a low, dangerous voice.
After taking one last concerned look at Dawn, Spike turned and stormed out the front door. He'd be back before sunrise, anyway.
Buffy touched Dawn's arm lightly. "Dawny? Sweetheart? He's gone, it's ok now."
Slowly, Dawn refocused on the world around her. As soon as she did, though, she found she could hardly stand the sight of the people crowded around her.
"I'm tired. I'm going to bed." Without another word she walked slowly up to her old room.
She reached the door and stumbled slightly as she walked through. A slight frown formed over her features at her own clumsiness. There was a faint twinge in her stomach. She couldn't remember the last time she had moved with anything other than the grace that comes from a century of walking amongst the Elves. With a click, the rest of the world was locked out and she walked slowly to the bed.
With one tug, the covers were pulled back, exposing the crisp white sheets beneath. Dawn lay on the sheets without bothering to replace the covers over herself. When her stomach contracted again, with more force than last time, Dawn did not react at all. She knew exactly what it was...
~~~
Dawn looked around and smiled. She was perfectly content. She lived in a beautiful realm, of which she was about to be Queen. And she loved the Elf who would be her King, the Prince of her heart, with every fibre of her being. She hardly dared believe this perfect existence was hers forever. Part of her couldn't help but wonder if the last century had been nothing more than a pleasant dream.
But no, she knew it was real. If this had been a dream for her, all her friends would yet live. The Hobbits, Eowyn, Eomer and Faramir. Estel, her brother. If the world was perfect, one of her dearest living friends Arwen would not have spent the last forty years a widow. A cloud passed over Dawn's eyes for the briefest second as she thought of the mortals she loved so dearly. In this she included her Sunnydale family (even Spike, though she knew he wasn't mortal), she missed them all at times. But they were safe, and resting. She knew it in her heart, and the knowledge gave her the freedom to live out her immortality happily as they would have wanted. In fact, practically Estel's last words to her were orders for her to mind hers and her husband's happiness. She had not let her brother down.
Dawn smiled down at her stomach. For the past week she hadn't been sure, but now there was no mistaking it. She'd been feeling queasy in the mornings, much to the worry of her husband, and she could feel the life growing inside her. She was having a baby. Legolas' baby. She sighed and left the balcony, turning back into the bedroom she shared with Legolas. It had come as quite a stir when the Prince had first brought his Princess home, a century ago now. Legolas had insisted that Dawn share his chambers, instead of being placed in her own suite. Such a thing had never before been heard of from Elvish royalty, but Thranduil, so happy with his son's euphoria, so delighted with having his new daughter-in-law home, yielded to their request all too easily.
Legolas was just coming through the door, having been sequestered with his father in meetings all day. His face lit up at the sight of his bride. After all these years, he still couldn't quite believe she was real, and she was his. He noticed her eyes shining with happy tears. Seeing her happiness caused a smile to spread over his own features immediately. He didn't even have to ask.
"Hey honey," her soft, sweet voice floated across the room to him, Dawn herself barely a step behind. She reached him and looked down, a strange blush creeping over her cheeks to complement the smile she could not contain.
"What, melamin?" Legolas asked, laughter creeping into his voice with anticipation.
"Well..." she looked up at him. "We're going to have a baby, Legolas." She touched her stomach lightly. "I'm pregnant."
Legolas gaped at her a moment, trying to digest her words. Then it sank in: he was going to be a father. He gave a shout of joy, which neither had even known was possible to come from an Elf, and swept her up in his arms, twirling her about and kissing her passionately.
~~~
Dawn looked down at her stomach. She could feel the sharp twinges in her stomach increasing, but did not flinch.
A pool of blood seeped out from beneath her. As the white sheets were stained red, Dawn could feel the life draining out of her. Her baby's life, the little part of Legolas she had inside her slipping away. She waited a few minutes, staring straight up at the ceiling with a faraway look in his eyes until the sensation was over.
She pulled the covers over her to cover the mess of her miscarriage and continued to stare up at the ceiling. No longer were her eyes unfocused, they were now hard and cold. They glittered like harsh green gems in the darkness as she assessed her situation, in the manner of a warrior. Just like her brother taught her. She didn't notice that her hands came up to rest on her chest and she subconsciously clutched at her wedding ring so tightly that if it were made from any metal other than mithril, it may very well have bent.
She was in Sunnydale. She had been brought here willingly by people who claimed to love her, but who had hurt her more than she'd ever thought possible. Feeling betrayed by Legolas at Helm's Deep, a crime long forgiven and almost completely forgotten, seemed so petty in comparison to being ripped out of Middle-Earth to be brought "home" to the Hellmouth. These people were no longer her family. Because of them, her unborn child was dead. They were the enemy.
A tight, icy smile formed on her lips. They didn't have to know that they were the enemy. Estel would be pleased to know how well she was fighting with her brains, instead of just her sword. Though if Me'ahyanda was with her, Dawn didn't discount the idea that she would exact her revenge on her enemy this very night. She shook her head. Idiots. Didn't they know that just because she hadn't been in one of the Heavenly dimensions, that didn't mean she wasn't in Heaven, as she saw it.
She forced herself to focus on the situation at hand. Morning was only a few hours away, and she would have to be ready. She had to have her course of action organised in her mind by then. Priority number one: getting home, Dawn told herself. She refused to believe she belonged here Besides, she couldn't live without Legolas. She needed him, and she would do anything to get him back.
She almost grimaced when she thought of the time differences between Sunnydale and Mirkwood. Three months in hell was a century at home. What if she was too late? What if she couldn't find a way and Legolas forgot her? Dawn cut the thoughts off immediately. It wouldn't do to think like that now. Estel would be disappointed in her if she lost her head now.
She reminded herself of her first priority, and moved on to identifying her second. Less than five seconds passed before she realised she had no other priority. She would see Legolas again or die trying. She only hoped the twins and Arwen would come and take care of him. And Gimli had been due to arrive in Mirkwood within a day of her being taken away, Gimli always knew how to best cater for his Elven friend's moods.
The faint click of the front door closing told her that Spike had come back. She listened to his footsteps as he made his way to the basement. After he'd practically moved in whilst they were facing the First, he'd never really moved out. No matter where else he had to live, it was like an unspoken understanding between them all that the bed in the basement belonged to Spike.
Dawn squeezed her eyes shut tight at the thought of the blond-haired, blue-eyed immortal downstairs. Despite his innate darkness, he was so much like Legolas, something she'd never realised in all her years in Middle- Earth. But it had hit her with an amazing force tonight. Aside from the similar physical traits, which had been the primary reason she'd reacted so badly on really looking at him earlier that night, there were many personality traits the Vampire and the Elf shared. A lethal warrior, a force not to be reckoned with, and a passionate lover, who gave his entire heart and soul over to emotion. They didn't just love, they loved with all they had. Dawn bit her lip. She wanted Legolas so badly right now.
Again, she turned her thoughts to a more practical avenue. She had to get home, but the others couldn't help her because she didn't want to tell them where she had been. They'd treat her like she was made of glass, like they'd tried to treat Buffy after resurrecting her that time. And that had gone so well. Honestly, did these people never learn?
She was alone in this. She had to tread carefully, Dawn knew she couldn't let on to them that anything was wrong with her being here. She had to make them think she was fine so they'd give her the space she'd need for her research. And she had no idea how long it would take until she found a way home. Once she had that, she didn't care what the people around her knew, what they thought. She'd do whatever it would take to get back to Mirkwood, and never give Sunnydale and its inhabitants a backwards glance.
The sun was rising. Dawn's room was becoming lighter around her. Slowly, the house stirred into life. Dawn listened as Buffy, Willow and Tara got up and began to move about, eventually heading downstairs.
She waited until they had all gone down before getting up herself. She stared down at the pool of blood she had lain in all night for what felt like the longest time, before firmly covering it over with the quilt. She would deal with the mess later, when she had some time alone.
She showered quickly and dressed in black jeans and a black tank top, fighting the urge to braid her hair in the Elvish fashion as a sign of her rank of Princess. She left her hair loose and steeled herself in the mirror.
"Showtime," she whispered almost maliciously to her cold reflection.
* * * * *
Uh-oh. Showtime? Stay tuned for a glimpse back at the Mirkwood clan, and piles and piles of angst. Did I mention the angst? ~Anoron.