I don't own Dawn, Legolas or any of their friends and family. I just take
sadistic pleasure in torturing them. Also, I think my chapters are a
little short. Sorry bout that, I'm trying to get as much as I can into
them but this story isn't coming together quite so easily as the first did.
I'll get it, though, it's like a vendetta!! Love it or hate it, review
and let me know!
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CHAPTER SEVEN- ACCEPTANCE A.K.A. BEING ALONE
A year. A year had passed, and a year they had waited, searched, prayed for Dawn. A year they had hoped in vain. Scouts were continually out, messages poured in from all corners of Middle-Earth, but nobody had caught even the slightest trace of Dawn. And time was starting to move on without her.
People were starting to move on without her, and Legolas could not deny it. He was surrounded by loved ones, his father and Gimli had not yet sailed for the Undying Lands, and Arwen, Elladan and Elrohir had all but moved to Mirkwood from Rivendell.
He watched them as they ate their breakfast. They tried to be quiet and sombre for his sake, but under the surface, they all bubbled with life. Even Gimli, who every day came closer and closer to death's door, had a strong spirit still surging within him.
"It's time for you to go," he said, startling those around him.
"Time for whom to go, my son?" Thranduil asked with concern, wondering what Legolas had meant.
"All of you. You've all got things to move on with. Atar, I think you and Gimli should make for Valinor as soon as the preparations can be made."
"What?" Gimli muttered. "Look, Elf, if you think I am going to leave you behind after all you've gone through-"
"You'd better," Legolas interrupted, his eyes suddenly widening as they shone with unshed tears. He began to babble, his voice straining as he tried to believe his own words.
"Dawn's going to be home. Someday. Soon. And when you're not here, she'll want to know where you are. And if I have to tell her that you've died your mortal death and are not awaiting us in Valinor, she will be very angry with me that I've let you die here. And after she was so looking forward to seeing you again!"
"Are you sure?" Thranduil asked. If Legolas was truly ready to move on, then he knew it could only be a positive thing for his son. And, he well knew, his duties as King would more than keep him occupied, if nothing else.
"Yes Atar. It is time."
Arwen covered her friend's hand, noting the tinge of dark skin that stained the usually fair complexion just beneath his eyes. He was not sleeping. Still. "We at least will not leave, Legolas. No matter what you say, I am determined to be here as a friend and confidant for as long as you need me."
"Yes. Mirkwood has far better hunting than Rivendell, in any event," Elrohir piped up with a mischievous grin. "Though I must beg you, King Thranduil, not to advertise my opinion to my own father once you reach the Undying Lands."
"Thank you," Legolas responded to his friends with a half-hearted smile. It helped him to think that he would have another Elf around who understood something of loss, as Arwen did.
Now satisfied that Legolas would be taken care of in his absence, Thranduil nodded. "Well, I make it that we can be ready to leave Mirkwood within the week," he estimated. "So I shall set your coronation five days from now. Congratulations, Legolas, you will make a fine King."
Legolas nodded his thanks, but did not smile at his father. The King in waiting was too busy thinking about his absent Queen.
* * * * *
Dawn awoke and found herself staring straight at a plush toy perched on the bed next to her. A grotesquely bright coloured stuffed fish named Victor that seemed to gloat in the empty sunlight staining her room. Feeling a surge of anger just knowing she had woken up in Sunnydale, Dawn's arm shot out.
Reeling from the force of the punch, Victor flew across the room, hitting the far wall with a thud. Feeling slightly. . . worse, Dawn sat up. Despite the eternally warm California weather, she shivered a little from the cold she felt. She'd heard stories of couples who had been married so long that to spend even one night away from each other, they were too cold to sleep without the warmth of their love's body pressed against them. She'd never really believed those stories could be true, until now.
Even a scalding hot shower that left ugly burns all over her body could not warm her up and Dawn went down to the kitchen still feeling stone cold. Even though she'd used the last of the hot water and if she let any more of the boiling water touch her skin, she'd probably blister from the heat, Dawn took one look at the family having breakfast and wished she could be back under the faucet again.
"So what do you wanna do today, sweetheart?" Buffy asked. "How about you come visit me at work?" After the school had been sucked into the Hellmouth, Sunnydale High had been relocated to a less often demolished area of town and Buffy regained her counselling job.
"You want me to go back? To high school?" Dawn asked, incredulous. She'd never even gotten over the fact that Buffy had gone back to that place willingly, let alone considered returning herself. There was only one place in the universe she wanted to consider going back to. She wrinkled her nose and looked around at the, as usual, fairly messy house. "I think I'll stay here, do some cleaning up."
Tara grimaced. "I guess it has been a while," she admitted, wondering what it must be like for Dawn to come home to such a mess, after everything she'd already been through.
"Oh, ok," Buffy looked a little hurt. She'd been expecting Dawn would follow her around like she had as a kid, always wanting to be where Buffy got to be, and doing whatever Buffy got to do. Actually, Buffy had been hoping Dawn would cling to her, at least that way she could keep an eye on her sister, maybe get her to start acting normally somehow.
"Well, that's good," Buffy forced herself to perk up. "We really aren't so great with the domestics around here, but I guess you always knew that, huh Dawny?"
Dawn didn't bother to respond. She walked out of the kitchen and plopped down on the couch. She snatched up the remote and channel-surfed until the house was emptied, save for one peroxided vampire asleep in the basement.
As soon as she heard Xander's car speed off down the street, she switched off the television and jumped up. She had work to do. She spent four hours scouring the internet for any possible sources of information on portals, but came up with nothing useful but a headache from staring at the screen too long.
She took a break to let her eyes adjust, using the time to make a half-hearted attempt at tidying up to keep the Scoobies off her back, and then went upstairs to look through all of Willow and Tara's magic books. After scanning the contents of every one of the Wiccans' volumes, she still found no clues as to how to get home.
She snapped the last book closed in frustration. She felt her breathing get ragged as she became more and more distressed. There had to be some way of getting home, but for the life of her she couldn't find it. What if she never did. . .
Dawn took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. Panicking would get her nowhere, she needed to clear her head. She slipped down the hall to her own room, locking the door behind her before settling on the bed, legs crossed.
Closing her eyes, she tried to clear her mind and fall into her meditative state that Tara had taught her so long ago. All she needed was to see Legolas, perhaps replay her wedding day so she could not only relive the happiest day of her life, but she could also see all her long-lost Middle-Earth family. The family she didn't associate with pain and betrayal. She searched and searched for her relaxed place, the place that let her slip into meditation and visions so she could manipulate them to her will, but she could not find it.
"Damn them! It's their fault," Dawn seethed, thinking of the Scoobies. "They destroyed my balance and now I can't even focus my energy. It's like they want everything!"
A sudden knock at the door startled Dawn. She flew to her feet, settling into a defensive stance.
"Hey, Tarien, you ok in there pet?" a British voice called through the door. The door handle rattled, but remained closed due to the lock.
"Yeah Spike, I'm ok," she called back, snapping the door unlocked.
The door swung open and Spike peered at Dawn's face. "Then why were you yelling a minute ago?"
Dawn shrugged non-committally, clearing all her emotions away. "Just trying to get something to work. Did you want something."
"Not particularly," he replied, lounging against the door frame.
Dawn, meanwhile had slipped into the Elvish tongue and began to pace about her room as she worked through her plans and worries aloud. "Sinadome amin utuuva mani anta, i'kard en templa, re'na ron ilya kaima. Amin cael'a. . ." [Tonight I will find what I need at the house of magic (a/n, closest I could find to Magic Shop. . . the Magic Box) while they all sleep. I have to. . .]
"Uh, pet?" Spike was frowning at her. "You're talking jibberish, luv."
"No, I'm speaking Elvish," Dawn corrected.
"Right. I'm not too up on my *Elvish*," he admitted, deliberately placing extra emphasis on naming her language correctly. "Guess you'll have to teach me."
Dawn looked at him suspiciously. "Why do you want to learn Elvish?"
Spike gave her one of his devilish grins. "So I can tell the difference between Elvish and jibberish."
* * * * * . . All hail King Legolas. Poor, lonely King Legolas, I wonder how his Queen will get back to him.? I know I'm evil. Review and tell me anyway! ~Anoron.
CHAPTER SEVEN- ACCEPTANCE A.K.A. BEING ALONE
A year. A year had passed, and a year they had waited, searched, prayed for Dawn. A year they had hoped in vain. Scouts were continually out, messages poured in from all corners of Middle-Earth, but nobody had caught even the slightest trace of Dawn. And time was starting to move on without her.
People were starting to move on without her, and Legolas could not deny it. He was surrounded by loved ones, his father and Gimli had not yet sailed for the Undying Lands, and Arwen, Elladan and Elrohir had all but moved to Mirkwood from Rivendell.
He watched them as they ate their breakfast. They tried to be quiet and sombre for his sake, but under the surface, they all bubbled with life. Even Gimli, who every day came closer and closer to death's door, had a strong spirit still surging within him.
"It's time for you to go," he said, startling those around him.
"Time for whom to go, my son?" Thranduil asked with concern, wondering what Legolas had meant.
"All of you. You've all got things to move on with. Atar, I think you and Gimli should make for Valinor as soon as the preparations can be made."
"What?" Gimli muttered. "Look, Elf, if you think I am going to leave you behind after all you've gone through-"
"You'd better," Legolas interrupted, his eyes suddenly widening as they shone with unshed tears. He began to babble, his voice straining as he tried to believe his own words.
"Dawn's going to be home. Someday. Soon. And when you're not here, she'll want to know where you are. And if I have to tell her that you've died your mortal death and are not awaiting us in Valinor, she will be very angry with me that I've let you die here. And after she was so looking forward to seeing you again!"
"Are you sure?" Thranduil asked. If Legolas was truly ready to move on, then he knew it could only be a positive thing for his son. And, he well knew, his duties as King would more than keep him occupied, if nothing else.
"Yes Atar. It is time."
Arwen covered her friend's hand, noting the tinge of dark skin that stained the usually fair complexion just beneath his eyes. He was not sleeping. Still. "We at least will not leave, Legolas. No matter what you say, I am determined to be here as a friend and confidant for as long as you need me."
"Yes. Mirkwood has far better hunting than Rivendell, in any event," Elrohir piped up with a mischievous grin. "Though I must beg you, King Thranduil, not to advertise my opinion to my own father once you reach the Undying Lands."
"Thank you," Legolas responded to his friends with a half-hearted smile. It helped him to think that he would have another Elf around who understood something of loss, as Arwen did.
Now satisfied that Legolas would be taken care of in his absence, Thranduil nodded. "Well, I make it that we can be ready to leave Mirkwood within the week," he estimated. "So I shall set your coronation five days from now. Congratulations, Legolas, you will make a fine King."
Legolas nodded his thanks, but did not smile at his father. The King in waiting was too busy thinking about his absent Queen.
* * * * *
Dawn awoke and found herself staring straight at a plush toy perched on the bed next to her. A grotesquely bright coloured stuffed fish named Victor that seemed to gloat in the empty sunlight staining her room. Feeling a surge of anger just knowing she had woken up in Sunnydale, Dawn's arm shot out.
Reeling from the force of the punch, Victor flew across the room, hitting the far wall with a thud. Feeling slightly. . . worse, Dawn sat up. Despite the eternally warm California weather, she shivered a little from the cold she felt. She'd heard stories of couples who had been married so long that to spend even one night away from each other, they were too cold to sleep without the warmth of their love's body pressed against them. She'd never really believed those stories could be true, until now.
Even a scalding hot shower that left ugly burns all over her body could not warm her up and Dawn went down to the kitchen still feeling stone cold. Even though she'd used the last of the hot water and if she let any more of the boiling water touch her skin, she'd probably blister from the heat, Dawn took one look at the family having breakfast and wished she could be back under the faucet again.
"So what do you wanna do today, sweetheart?" Buffy asked. "How about you come visit me at work?" After the school had been sucked into the Hellmouth, Sunnydale High had been relocated to a less often demolished area of town and Buffy regained her counselling job.
"You want me to go back? To high school?" Dawn asked, incredulous. She'd never even gotten over the fact that Buffy had gone back to that place willingly, let alone considered returning herself. There was only one place in the universe she wanted to consider going back to. She wrinkled her nose and looked around at the, as usual, fairly messy house. "I think I'll stay here, do some cleaning up."
Tara grimaced. "I guess it has been a while," she admitted, wondering what it must be like for Dawn to come home to such a mess, after everything she'd already been through.
"Oh, ok," Buffy looked a little hurt. She'd been expecting Dawn would follow her around like she had as a kid, always wanting to be where Buffy got to be, and doing whatever Buffy got to do. Actually, Buffy had been hoping Dawn would cling to her, at least that way she could keep an eye on her sister, maybe get her to start acting normally somehow.
"Well, that's good," Buffy forced herself to perk up. "We really aren't so great with the domestics around here, but I guess you always knew that, huh Dawny?"
Dawn didn't bother to respond. She walked out of the kitchen and plopped down on the couch. She snatched up the remote and channel-surfed until the house was emptied, save for one peroxided vampire asleep in the basement.
As soon as she heard Xander's car speed off down the street, she switched off the television and jumped up. She had work to do. She spent four hours scouring the internet for any possible sources of information on portals, but came up with nothing useful but a headache from staring at the screen too long.
She took a break to let her eyes adjust, using the time to make a half-hearted attempt at tidying up to keep the Scoobies off her back, and then went upstairs to look through all of Willow and Tara's magic books. After scanning the contents of every one of the Wiccans' volumes, she still found no clues as to how to get home.
She snapped the last book closed in frustration. She felt her breathing get ragged as she became more and more distressed. There had to be some way of getting home, but for the life of her she couldn't find it. What if she never did. . .
Dawn took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. Panicking would get her nowhere, she needed to clear her head. She slipped down the hall to her own room, locking the door behind her before settling on the bed, legs crossed.
Closing her eyes, she tried to clear her mind and fall into her meditative state that Tara had taught her so long ago. All she needed was to see Legolas, perhaps replay her wedding day so she could not only relive the happiest day of her life, but she could also see all her long-lost Middle-Earth family. The family she didn't associate with pain and betrayal. She searched and searched for her relaxed place, the place that let her slip into meditation and visions so she could manipulate them to her will, but she could not find it.
"Damn them! It's their fault," Dawn seethed, thinking of the Scoobies. "They destroyed my balance and now I can't even focus my energy. It's like they want everything!"
A sudden knock at the door startled Dawn. She flew to her feet, settling into a defensive stance.
"Hey, Tarien, you ok in there pet?" a British voice called through the door. The door handle rattled, but remained closed due to the lock.
"Yeah Spike, I'm ok," she called back, snapping the door unlocked.
The door swung open and Spike peered at Dawn's face. "Then why were you yelling a minute ago?"
Dawn shrugged non-committally, clearing all her emotions away. "Just trying to get something to work. Did you want something."
"Not particularly," he replied, lounging against the door frame.
Dawn, meanwhile had slipped into the Elvish tongue and began to pace about her room as she worked through her plans and worries aloud. "Sinadome amin utuuva mani anta, i'kard en templa, re'na ron ilya kaima. Amin cael'a. . ." [Tonight I will find what I need at the house of magic (a/n, closest I could find to Magic Shop. . . the Magic Box) while they all sleep. I have to. . .]
"Uh, pet?" Spike was frowning at her. "You're talking jibberish, luv."
"No, I'm speaking Elvish," Dawn corrected.
"Right. I'm not too up on my *Elvish*," he admitted, deliberately placing extra emphasis on naming her language correctly. "Guess you'll have to teach me."
Dawn looked at him suspiciously. "Why do you want to learn Elvish?"
Spike gave her one of his devilish grins. "So I can tell the difference between Elvish and jibberish."
* * * * * . . All hail King Legolas. Poor, lonely King Legolas, I wonder how his Queen will get back to him.? I know I'm evil. Review and tell me anyway! ~Anoron.