Title: The Distance Between Us
Author: NABELLETHEY (The Beffster)
Disclaimer: Unfortunately I do NOT own any of the characters in this story. You hear that? I don't own anything, except this idea which is the property of me and me only! But other than that I own nada...not even the computer I'm writing this on... :S
Summary: crossover with Buffy the vampire slayer and The Lord of The Rings at the end of season 3 in BTVS and just before the attack at Weathertop in LOTR.
WARNING: Angel is in this story and it will be B/A romance and angst. Any Legolas dissing is an accident it's just my personal feelings about him being a pansy coming to the fore.....if you find any unfair descriptions, actions etc. tell me and I'll correct 'em! I don't mean to offend anyone but spit happens! R and R please but no flames and stuff I'm a sensitive writer. (except to Legolas teehee!)
I would like to say thank you to all those people who have reviewed my work. I love getting praised and I have become a review junky so feed my addiction and review more. Again thanks to Elle for being my beta reader and sorting through my story and thanks to Amy (MauledBarbie on fiction press) for putting up with my Spuffy dissing and constant ba-ed-ness.
Hope you like this chapter xxx
Chapter 5
He took her wrist and felt her pulse. It was weak but still going. Her breathing had stopped. He looked at Strider desperately.
"She can't breath for herself, you need to give her mouth to mouth"
Strider's look was confused and very uncomfortable.
"Mouth to mouth!" Angel repeated desperately "You need to breathe for her. Hold her nose, tilt her head back and breathe into her mouth"
"It is not my..."
"She's dying!"
"But you..."
"I can't!" Angel was not in the mood for this. Buffy would not last much longer without oxygen and, damnit, he was not going to lose her here of all places, just when she had the chance of a normal life.
"Very well"
Strider went through all the instructions that Angel gave him, not entirely comfortable with the situation of putting his lips on an unconscious woman's. His mother had taught him well. But he did it all the same. After a few very tense minutes Buffy was breathing on her own again. Angel squeezed her small hands in his own, relief swelling in his chest like a balloon. Without further pause, he moved his arms around the unconscious slayer and lifted her easily as he got to his feet.
"We've gotta get her to some help." he said shortly, glancing back at his four companions who still looked more than a little shaken. He tried to keep the impatience and lingering fear from his voice.
"NOW!"
Okay, so he was still working on that...
The hobbits looked collectively paniced, whereas Strider at least seemed to possess some deeper understanding of Angel's distress.
"You heard him. Rivendell is not far now." The ranger told the little ones encouragingly, and that seem to put them somewhat at ease. They resigned themselves to following after Strider and Angel at a swift pace, their small faces set with determination. All there that was left to do was walk.
Angel forced himself to set a reasonable pace so that the others would not fall behind, but to say the least, he found it difficult to keep in a slower step. The woodland around them began to alter and change, the trees becoming smaller and shrubs more frequent. It was only at this point that Angel realised he had no idea where he was leading them. He had just taken the first path available and strode blindly forward, his every thought centring on Buffy. Now, coming to a reluctant halt, he glanced questioningly back at Strider. The ranger continued walking until he had reached the vampire's side, then he too paused and met Angel's gaze.
"It is a six day walk yet." Strider informed him in a lowered voice.
"Six days." Angel repeated flatly, the words not processing. Behind the two men, the hobbits were muttering cautiously about food. Angel held Buffy closer and stared up despairingly at the darkening sky overhead. Its bruised black features reflected his mood perfectly.
"Six days." He breathed. Glancing back at Strider, his expression hardened. "I won't let anything happen to her."
The ranger had also been studying the sky and now lowered his head to fix Angel with the same contemplative look.
"No, I don't believe you will." The man said slowly. "But we cannot continue at this pace. The hobbits must rest. If she does not last the night –"
"She will." Angel growled fiercely. The ranger shifted as if to take a step back, but said nothing in response.
"If we're resting, let's get it over with." Angel said, his voice tightly controlled. "But we're not stopping long."
Strider glanced briefly back at the hobbits who were watching their exchange anxiously. Turning to Angel he inclined his head in agreement. The vampire felt a brief rush of gratitude towards the man, and then returned his thoughts to the woman in his arms. It was going to be a long six days.
___________________________________________________________________
Buffy had still not awoken. Six days of steady travelling and she hadn't eaten or drunk or even made a sound. Angel's only reprieve came in watching over her. The slayer's unconscious state struck terror into him every time he glanced down at her in his arms during the day, yet when night fell and Strider would insist that they all rest, Angel felt an odd blanket of peace settle over him every time he lay down beside Buffy's relaxed form and stared into her smooth, unmarked face. He would feel guilt when he awoke in the morning with the sensation of morning sunlight playing across his face, and turn over to find Buffy in the same place he'd left her, oblivious to the brilliant dawn that was unfurling all around her. It felt so very wrong. He was a vampire – he was not supposed to be the one in the sunlight – Buffy was! Had he done this to her? Somehow stolen the life from her? When they would set out at fist light, Strider and the hobbits would already have apple and bread in their stomachs, whilst Angel got by on only the intense self-loathing coiled in his gut. Brooding was never quite so effective as when one was walking through a cheery, brightly lit spring morning bearing the dead-weight of his lover's body.
Often Strider would insist on carrying her to give Angel some relief. The vampire would stalk along close by, dark eyes sharply fixed on Buffy and blind to most other things around him.
Angel had been keeping track of the days somewhere in the back of his mind, but time seemed to passing with a will of its own. He was more than slightly startled when the trees around them abruptly dropped away one morning to reveal a pebbly shore and a chuckling little river, shallow enough to cross, yet stingingly cold to the flesh. The shock of it seemed to bring Angel out of his dream-like state of mind and he looked up to see what lay ahead for the first time in days. A group of people on the opposite shore stood waiting for them to arrive. Strider smiled at Angel reassuringly and stepped ahead to meet with the congregation. They had reached Rivendell at last.
Buffy's dreams were plagued with shadows. They tore at her skin and whispered her name, beckoning her to the dark, to join them. A flaming eye watched her constantly; watch her fight all the time. Watched her writhe in pain as monsters dragged her down, clawing at her, scratching her. She couldn't distinguish any distinct words but she understood what they were telling her
"Join us slayer...you belong in the darkness, take it...rule it with me. Together we can have everything we desire...join us...be the queen of shadow Buffy. Buffy join me...Buffy"
Suddenly everything was silent in her dreamscape. Buffy was alone in her head. The invasion was over and it seemed that she was again alone with only thoughts of her own to terrorise her.
The light was golden and crisp. Outside, somewhere a tinkling music was drifting along the air. Angel could not distinguish whether it was birdsong or some form of instrument or even a human singing. He felt absurdly relaxed as if he was half asleep. Buffy's hand was blessedly warm in his, yet still limp. He rubbed his thumb lightly over her scraped knuckles and bent to rest his forehead lightly against the back of his hand.
The sheets of the bed felt soft a silk and were a pleasingly mellow cream colour. Buffy looked young and frail, hidden beneath it all, but comfortable enough with her head resting deep in a thickly stuffed pillow. Angel breathed in a sigh and allowed his eyes to drift closed. Buffy's skin smelt clean and gently scented with fresh herbs. Angel heard the steady, smooth rise and fall of her breathing, had studied the random flickers of her eyelids as she dreamt. Dreamt. Such a natural, human thing. Angel breathed in her scent again and felt calmed for the first time in long, long days. Buffy was going to be alright. The elves had healed and bathed her to the best of their abilities – and Angel was informed more than once that their abilities were the best. Strider certainly had faith in them, and strangely, Angel found that one of the most comforting things of all. That and Lord Elrond. Angel had sensed immediately that the half-elf was a good sort. He had brought Buffy back and that was enough for him.
Distantly, Angel could make out voices. Strider and Elrond by the sound of it. The vampire kept his eyes closed and listened unashamedly.
"She will be awake soon." Strider made the statement lean slightly towards becoming a question.
"She is healing still. It may take time, but she has strength yet." Elrond's smooth, low tones were assuring, certain.
"She is...unusual." Strider said with mild hesitation. That made Angel smile. Yes, unusual and Buffy definitely went hand in hand.
"But trustworthy. As is her...protector." Elrond's voice had an edge of humour to it.
"These appear queer days indeed, my Lord." Strider murmured.
"Indeed. But it is not for us to judge, Estel. Come, the maid will awaken soon."
Angel listened until he knew he was once more alone. He lifted his head and watched Buffy through half-closed eyes.
"Soon." He repeated, squeezing the slayer's hand gently. There was a slight pause, and then an answering squeeze. Angel closed his eyes and waited.
Author: NABELLETHEY (The Beffster)
Disclaimer: Unfortunately I do NOT own any of the characters in this story. You hear that? I don't own anything, except this idea which is the property of me and me only! But other than that I own nada...not even the computer I'm writing this on... :S
Summary: crossover with Buffy the vampire slayer and The Lord of The Rings at the end of season 3 in BTVS and just before the attack at Weathertop in LOTR.
WARNING: Angel is in this story and it will be B/A romance and angst. Any Legolas dissing is an accident it's just my personal feelings about him being a pansy coming to the fore.....if you find any unfair descriptions, actions etc. tell me and I'll correct 'em! I don't mean to offend anyone but spit happens! R and R please but no flames and stuff I'm a sensitive writer. (except to Legolas teehee!)
I would like to say thank you to all those people who have reviewed my work. I love getting praised and I have become a review junky so feed my addiction and review more. Again thanks to Elle for being my beta reader and sorting through my story and thanks to Amy (MauledBarbie on fiction press) for putting up with my Spuffy dissing and constant ba-ed-ness.
Hope you like this chapter xxx
Chapter 5
He took her wrist and felt her pulse. It was weak but still going. Her breathing had stopped. He looked at Strider desperately.
"She can't breath for herself, you need to give her mouth to mouth"
Strider's look was confused and very uncomfortable.
"Mouth to mouth!" Angel repeated desperately "You need to breathe for her. Hold her nose, tilt her head back and breathe into her mouth"
"It is not my..."
"She's dying!"
"But you..."
"I can't!" Angel was not in the mood for this. Buffy would not last much longer without oxygen and, damnit, he was not going to lose her here of all places, just when she had the chance of a normal life.
"Very well"
Strider went through all the instructions that Angel gave him, not entirely comfortable with the situation of putting his lips on an unconscious woman's. His mother had taught him well. But he did it all the same. After a few very tense minutes Buffy was breathing on her own again. Angel squeezed her small hands in his own, relief swelling in his chest like a balloon. Without further pause, he moved his arms around the unconscious slayer and lifted her easily as he got to his feet.
"We've gotta get her to some help." he said shortly, glancing back at his four companions who still looked more than a little shaken. He tried to keep the impatience and lingering fear from his voice.
"NOW!"
Okay, so he was still working on that...
The hobbits looked collectively paniced, whereas Strider at least seemed to possess some deeper understanding of Angel's distress.
"You heard him. Rivendell is not far now." The ranger told the little ones encouragingly, and that seem to put them somewhat at ease. They resigned themselves to following after Strider and Angel at a swift pace, their small faces set with determination. All there that was left to do was walk.
Angel forced himself to set a reasonable pace so that the others would not fall behind, but to say the least, he found it difficult to keep in a slower step. The woodland around them began to alter and change, the trees becoming smaller and shrubs more frequent. It was only at this point that Angel realised he had no idea where he was leading them. He had just taken the first path available and strode blindly forward, his every thought centring on Buffy. Now, coming to a reluctant halt, he glanced questioningly back at Strider. The ranger continued walking until he had reached the vampire's side, then he too paused and met Angel's gaze.
"It is a six day walk yet." Strider informed him in a lowered voice.
"Six days." Angel repeated flatly, the words not processing. Behind the two men, the hobbits were muttering cautiously about food. Angel held Buffy closer and stared up despairingly at the darkening sky overhead. Its bruised black features reflected his mood perfectly.
"Six days." He breathed. Glancing back at Strider, his expression hardened. "I won't let anything happen to her."
The ranger had also been studying the sky and now lowered his head to fix Angel with the same contemplative look.
"No, I don't believe you will." The man said slowly. "But we cannot continue at this pace. The hobbits must rest. If she does not last the night –"
"She will." Angel growled fiercely. The ranger shifted as if to take a step back, but said nothing in response.
"If we're resting, let's get it over with." Angel said, his voice tightly controlled. "But we're not stopping long."
Strider glanced briefly back at the hobbits who were watching their exchange anxiously. Turning to Angel he inclined his head in agreement. The vampire felt a brief rush of gratitude towards the man, and then returned his thoughts to the woman in his arms. It was going to be a long six days.
___________________________________________________________________
Buffy had still not awoken. Six days of steady travelling and she hadn't eaten or drunk or even made a sound. Angel's only reprieve came in watching over her. The slayer's unconscious state struck terror into him every time he glanced down at her in his arms during the day, yet when night fell and Strider would insist that they all rest, Angel felt an odd blanket of peace settle over him every time he lay down beside Buffy's relaxed form and stared into her smooth, unmarked face. He would feel guilt when he awoke in the morning with the sensation of morning sunlight playing across his face, and turn over to find Buffy in the same place he'd left her, oblivious to the brilliant dawn that was unfurling all around her. It felt so very wrong. He was a vampire – he was not supposed to be the one in the sunlight – Buffy was! Had he done this to her? Somehow stolen the life from her? When they would set out at fist light, Strider and the hobbits would already have apple and bread in their stomachs, whilst Angel got by on only the intense self-loathing coiled in his gut. Brooding was never quite so effective as when one was walking through a cheery, brightly lit spring morning bearing the dead-weight of his lover's body.
Often Strider would insist on carrying her to give Angel some relief. The vampire would stalk along close by, dark eyes sharply fixed on Buffy and blind to most other things around him.
Angel had been keeping track of the days somewhere in the back of his mind, but time seemed to passing with a will of its own. He was more than slightly startled when the trees around them abruptly dropped away one morning to reveal a pebbly shore and a chuckling little river, shallow enough to cross, yet stingingly cold to the flesh. The shock of it seemed to bring Angel out of his dream-like state of mind and he looked up to see what lay ahead for the first time in days. A group of people on the opposite shore stood waiting for them to arrive. Strider smiled at Angel reassuringly and stepped ahead to meet with the congregation. They had reached Rivendell at last.
Buffy's dreams were plagued with shadows. They tore at her skin and whispered her name, beckoning her to the dark, to join them. A flaming eye watched her constantly; watch her fight all the time. Watched her writhe in pain as monsters dragged her down, clawing at her, scratching her. She couldn't distinguish any distinct words but she understood what they were telling her
"Join us slayer...you belong in the darkness, take it...rule it with me. Together we can have everything we desire...join us...be the queen of shadow Buffy. Buffy join me...Buffy"
Suddenly everything was silent in her dreamscape. Buffy was alone in her head. The invasion was over and it seemed that she was again alone with only thoughts of her own to terrorise her.
The light was golden and crisp. Outside, somewhere a tinkling music was drifting along the air. Angel could not distinguish whether it was birdsong or some form of instrument or even a human singing. He felt absurdly relaxed as if he was half asleep. Buffy's hand was blessedly warm in his, yet still limp. He rubbed his thumb lightly over her scraped knuckles and bent to rest his forehead lightly against the back of his hand.
The sheets of the bed felt soft a silk and were a pleasingly mellow cream colour. Buffy looked young and frail, hidden beneath it all, but comfortable enough with her head resting deep in a thickly stuffed pillow. Angel breathed in a sigh and allowed his eyes to drift closed. Buffy's skin smelt clean and gently scented with fresh herbs. Angel heard the steady, smooth rise and fall of her breathing, had studied the random flickers of her eyelids as she dreamt. Dreamt. Such a natural, human thing. Angel breathed in her scent again and felt calmed for the first time in long, long days. Buffy was going to be alright. The elves had healed and bathed her to the best of their abilities – and Angel was informed more than once that their abilities were the best. Strider certainly had faith in them, and strangely, Angel found that one of the most comforting things of all. That and Lord Elrond. Angel had sensed immediately that the half-elf was a good sort. He had brought Buffy back and that was enough for him.
Distantly, Angel could make out voices. Strider and Elrond by the sound of it. The vampire kept his eyes closed and listened unashamedly.
"She will be awake soon." Strider made the statement lean slightly towards becoming a question.
"She is healing still. It may take time, but she has strength yet." Elrond's smooth, low tones were assuring, certain.
"She is...unusual." Strider said with mild hesitation. That made Angel smile. Yes, unusual and Buffy definitely went hand in hand.
"But trustworthy. As is her...protector." Elrond's voice had an edge of humour to it.
"These appear queer days indeed, my Lord." Strider murmured.
"Indeed. But it is not for us to judge, Estel. Come, the maid will awaken soon."
Angel listened until he knew he was once more alone. He lifted his head and watched Buffy through half-closed eyes.
"Soon." He repeated, squeezing the slayer's hand gently. There was a slight pause, and then an answering squeeze. Angel closed his eyes and waited.