Through Dimensions
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.unfortunately!
A/N: Sorry that it's been awhile since my last update, but coursework, and work.tis always the same, always working and yet always broke! Thanks for the reviews, if you have any Ideas, or certain events that you want to happen in this fic, or any challenges then let me know and I'll do my best!
Chapter 3
"Gandalf? How do I know you speak the truth?" Dawn questioned.
Gandalf looked slightly affronted, before a small spark of amusement and annoyance, as if being lenient with a favourite child.
"You don't, you'll just have to trust me."
Dawn snorted. "Trust?" She replied. "Trust is too easily given and therefore too easily broken. Trust no-one until they have been given reason for you to trust them."
"I saved your life, isn't that enough for you to trust me?" He asked somewhat bemused as to what she was saying.
"No. Many have saved my life, few were trust worthy, and many had their own agendas. You saved my life to satisfy you curiosity and to ease your conscience. Just because I don't trust you, doesn't mean that I'm not grateful.
But power such as yours, shades of black, grey and white give me reason to be wary, and to question your motives. My life has taught me that much at least."
Her eyes were hard, like chips of ice, displaying nothing, guarded, protecting herself, her emotions were in a tight vice like grip. In a warrior it was expected, admired, in nobility it was essential to show no fear, no weakness, but in a young woman such as this one it was unnatural. 'Terrifying' Gandalf thought.
"You speak of my power, accuse me of having it yet speak nothing of yours." His eyes searched hers, trying to find a response, anything to prove that she had emotions, that she had some humanity left in her.
Dawn remained blank, but inside she was shaking, she didn't know where she was, who she was talking to apart from the fact that his name was Gandalf and by the looks of things was a wizard.
"Who do you work for?" Dawn asked, a direct approach would hopefully tell her all she needed to know by his reaction.
"No-one-"
"Everybody works for someone, even if it is for themselves. Jeez, this is so Harry Potter, the next thing you know you'll be telling me that you're my long lost god father, convicted of a crime you didn't do." Dawn returned sarcastically.
"I'm afraid I'm somewhat confused as to whom you are referring t-"
"Never mind." Dawn brushed off the question, they were getting off track, and that wasn't good. 'Maybe that's what he wants me to do.' She thought. Why are you here? Is this your punishment for being evil, or did you merely get stuck here in the search for more power?
The wizards face became red and anger filled his eyes. The air cracked with the energy and tension as he prepared to retort to Dawns accusations. "You dare to link my name to that of evil? His voice boomed out. It is by fighting evil that I came to be in this place, by sacrificing my life for those of my friends, my companions so that the Quest could go on." His words poured out, the impact was like a tidal wave as his words sank into Dawns mind, her heart.
"It would seem then" Dawn replied "that we were condemned here for the same reason."
Disbelief entered the wizard's eyes, and suddenly he looked like an old man, twisted and bent by his burden, and the hand which fate had dealt him.
"What happened?" He asked in a familiar voice. It was unusual for Dawn to hear it being spoken to her. She had few memories of her father speaking to her like that, Giles had often spoken to Buffy 'as a daughter' but never to her. It was just as well really, after she heard how he had suggested killing her, their relationship had been somewhat.strained and deteriorated rapidly.
Her relationships however with Xander and Spike had actually got stronger, at least until Buffy had been brought back. Then she was alone again. Alone.just as she always was, either as the key or Dawn Summers, little sister of the slayer.
"This isn't the time or the place to discuss it. Evil lies here, and although you have my sympathy, you have not yet gained my trust."
Gandalf inclined his head slightly, in a gesture of acceptance, as if understanding her reasons.
"You are correct" he agreed. "Evil lurks here still. Let us leave this place and travel back to the land from which we belong to."
He turned and began walking.
"I never belonged." She whispered, partly to herself and partly to the darkness. The wizard stiffened slightly before carrying on into the darkness as if she had never said anything.
How long past they knew not. Time was constantly changing around them, and they had no spare energy to waste on something that held little importance to where they were.
They began to tolerate each others company and due to the trials and tribulations that they went through, gradually becoming more at ease as a companionship grew between them. Trust was beginning to grow between them as familiarity grew.there had to be some trust, how else would they survive?
Little they knew of each other, for there was little talk of their lives before, their main topic being of escape.
Dawn didn't want to shatter the hope that Gandalf had, didn't want to be the one that reduced his heart and dreams to fragments, shards of what his hope had previously been. The hope that he would get back in time to help save his world, to help his companions.
Time travels differently in different dimensions as she knew, Angel was one example, Buffy was another, but there had to be hope. Without hope they had nothing, no reason to survive, no reason to try and return.
Without hope he would die. She would drift, forever lost. Bad for her personally, she decided, but good for the rest of man kind. She would be protected from them, never to be found, never to be responsible for any more death apart from his.
It was dark still; there was never any other colour where they were. No colour to inspire any emotion except for hopelessness and desperation.
They had paused in their journey for a while, with no provisions they were quickly becoming weak, having to take more and more frequent breaks to recuperate.
Dawn lay on her back, lost in memories of Sunnydale as she gazed into nothing. Nothing.nothing described the entire plane of existence they were in at the moment.
"What shall you do when we return Lady Dawn? My travels will be unsuitable for a young Lady such as yourself-"
'Great, Buffy all over.' Dawn thought bitterly.
"- these trials we face now will be nothing compared to the dangers of Middle Earth. Uruk-hai and Orc swell in vast numbers, well trained and with superior strength. Many skilled warriors have gone up against them before only to fall.
There is no knowing what they would do to a young Lady as unprotected such as yourself. The mortal danger would be too great for you, even though you have proved yourself many times in this perilous journey.
I would rest easier knowing your plans. Knowing that you are safe with your family, for as long as possible, however short that time may be."
There was a long pause, his eyes anxiously looking into hers, but Dawns remained blank, devoid of any emotion.
"Lady Dawn" he prompted, "your plans.?"
There was a flame in her eyes as she answered. The flame burnt passionately, but was unable to melt the ice and hatred that consumed them, that had hardened her soul and heart. Eyes that showed a twisted passion and obsession.
"Revenge." Was her one worded answer before turning on her side, her back facing Gandalf, signalling that the conversation was over.
He sighed, honestly worried about the young women. The eyes and the hatred in them.he shifted uneasily. Eyes such as that should not be seen in one so young, nor in one that had seen many winters. Eyes like that were seen in Orc, and Uruk-hai, not humans, elves, dwarf, or hobbit.
They never spoke of it again. Her mind was set and nothing would undo it. She wouldn't rest until she was free, until it was over once and for all.
Gandalf knew that she would leave him as soon as they were on Middle Earth. Trying to change her mind against the revenge she was planning would only push her towards it only more, make her even more determined.
He had been informed of her plan. But was obviously to remain ignorant to its finer details. 'Perhaps it would be for the best' he mused 'there's already more than enough for me to worry about already.'
They carried on with their journey, remembering little of it, and wishing they could forget what remained in their minds.
Dawns wounds weren't healing, though she had made sure that Gandalf knew little of her personal struggle. The small cuts and abrasions remained covered in scabs, often cracking and breaking open.
Her stomach wound was a different matter. It wept of blood and pus constantly, swollen and sore with infection. Small scabs formed around the edge of the wound before dropping off.
It was infected she knew, no surprise really. It had never been cleaned or dressed properly, and despite how careful she was dirt worked its way past the bandages she had made from the cleanest parts of her dress.
'Maybe Glory wasn't lying.' She thought. 'Any normal human would have died from the lack of blood, or if they survived, would soon die from the infection, of the germs and toxins in my bloodstream.'
Her thoughts were often dark, as were her dreams, persuading they were, persuading her to think little of her family, her few friends.
'Had they forgotten her? Had she been wiped from their memories? After all, if she had died wouldn't the fabricated lies and fake memories die with the key, as they were no longer needed? Wouldn't the monks spell have ended if the life force of the key had finished? Were they only remembering the key as a ball of green light, of glowing energy? If they remembered anything at all, of either her or the key. Anything was possible, if she could be inserted into their lives and memories like that, couldn't she be erased? Maybe.maybe it would be easier for them if she wasn't remembered. There would be no grieving, no loss, much less pain in Buffy's life it would be easier for the scoobies to cope, surely? If she had never existed to them other than a ball of energy? Things would return to the way they were before, before she caused so much pain, trouble, unnecessary risk.
They stopped again after they were unable to go on any further. Both were weak and Dawn feared that Gandalf would collapse from the pressures on him. But the old wizard carried on, never asking for help, her help unless absolutely necessary. To ease his pride, allowing it to remain intact she often gave her own advice un-asked, as a suggestion, or an odd thought.
It seemed as if they were travelling in circles, round and round. Everything seemingly familiar, never changing.
Her body dropped down onto the hard ground, knocking the air out of her lungs, she shivered and pulled a thin strip of Gandalf cloak around her frail body. It was cold, and the thin material did little to prevent the dampness from the ground reaching her skin, before the chilling cold went through her bones, her heart.
Her limbs ached, and her head throbbed. Something was digging into her side as she lay curled up in a ball. But she was too tired to move, her body refusing her commands.
'It doesn't really matter' were her last thought's as she fell into a restless sleep, 'I'm, still gonna be stiff, sore, and cold when I wake up anyway.'
A/N: Reviews people, I wanna know what you all think!
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.unfortunately!
A/N: Sorry that it's been awhile since my last update, but coursework, and work.tis always the same, always working and yet always broke! Thanks for the reviews, if you have any Ideas, or certain events that you want to happen in this fic, or any challenges then let me know and I'll do my best!
Chapter 3
"Gandalf? How do I know you speak the truth?" Dawn questioned.
Gandalf looked slightly affronted, before a small spark of amusement and annoyance, as if being lenient with a favourite child.
"You don't, you'll just have to trust me."
Dawn snorted. "Trust?" She replied. "Trust is too easily given and therefore too easily broken. Trust no-one until they have been given reason for you to trust them."
"I saved your life, isn't that enough for you to trust me?" He asked somewhat bemused as to what she was saying.
"No. Many have saved my life, few were trust worthy, and many had their own agendas. You saved my life to satisfy you curiosity and to ease your conscience. Just because I don't trust you, doesn't mean that I'm not grateful.
But power such as yours, shades of black, grey and white give me reason to be wary, and to question your motives. My life has taught me that much at least."
Her eyes were hard, like chips of ice, displaying nothing, guarded, protecting herself, her emotions were in a tight vice like grip. In a warrior it was expected, admired, in nobility it was essential to show no fear, no weakness, but in a young woman such as this one it was unnatural. 'Terrifying' Gandalf thought.
"You speak of my power, accuse me of having it yet speak nothing of yours." His eyes searched hers, trying to find a response, anything to prove that she had emotions, that she had some humanity left in her.
Dawn remained blank, but inside she was shaking, she didn't know where she was, who she was talking to apart from the fact that his name was Gandalf and by the looks of things was a wizard.
"Who do you work for?" Dawn asked, a direct approach would hopefully tell her all she needed to know by his reaction.
"No-one-"
"Everybody works for someone, even if it is for themselves. Jeez, this is so Harry Potter, the next thing you know you'll be telling me that you're my long lost god father, convicted of a crime you didn't do." Dawn returned sarcastically.
"I'm afraid I'm somewhat confused as to whom you are referring t-"
"Never mind." Dawn brushed off the question, they were getting off track, and that wasn't good. 'Maybe that's what he wants me to do.' She thought. Why are you here? Is this your punishment for being evil, or did you merely get stuck here in the search for more power?
The wizards face became red and anger filled his eyes. The air cracked with the energy and tension as he prepared to retort to Dawns accusations. "You dare to link my name to that of evil? His voice boomed out. It is by fighting evil that I came to be in this place, by sacrificing my life for those of my friends, my companions so that the Quest could go on." His words poured out, the impact was like a tidal wave as his words sank into Dawns mind, her heart.
"It would seem then" Dawn replied "that we were condemned here for the same reason."
Disbelief entered the wizard's eyes, and suddenly he looked like an old man, twisted and bent by his burden, and the hand which fate had dealt him.
"What happened?" He asked in a familiar voice. It was unusual for Dawn to hear it being spoken to her. She had few memories of her father speaking to her like that, Giles had often spoken to Buffy 'as a daughter' but never to her. It was just as well really, after she heard how he had suggested killing her, their relationship had been somewhat.strained and deteriorated rapidly.
Her relationships however with Xander and Spike had actually got stronger, at least until Buffy had been brought back. Then she was alone again. Alone.just as she always was, either as the key or Dawn Summers, little sister of the slayer.
"This isn't the time or the place to discuss it. Evil lies here, and although you have my sympathy, you have not yet gained my trust."
Gandalf inclined his head slightly, in a gesture of acceptance, as if understanding her reasons.
"You are correct" he agreed. "Evil lurks here still. Let us leave this place and travel back to the land from which we belong to."
He turned and began walking.
"I never belonged." She whispered, partly to herself and partly to the darkness. The wizard stiffened slightly before carrying on into the darkness as if she had never said anything.
How long past they knew not. Time was constantly changing around them, and they had no spare energy to waste on something that held little importance to where they were.
They began to tolerate each others company and due to the trials and tribulations that they went through, gradually becoming more at ease as a companionship grew between them. Trust was beginning to grow between them as familiarity grew.there had to be some trust, how else would they survive?
Little they knew of each other, for there was little talk of their lives before, their main topic being of escape.
Dawn didn't want to shatter the hope that Gandalf had, didn't want to be the one that reduced his heart and dreams to fragments, shards of what his hope had previously been. The hope that he would get back in time to help save his world, to help his companions.
Time travels differently in different dimensions as she knew, Angel was one example, Buffy was another, but there had to be hope. Without hope they had nothing, no reason to survive, no reason to try and return.
Without hope he would die. She would drift, forever lost. Bad for her personally, she decided, but good for the rest of man kind. She would be protected from them, never to be found, never to be responsible for any more death apart from his.
It was dark still; there was never any other colour where they were. No colour to inspire any emotion except for hopelessness and desperation.
They had paused in their journey for a while, with no provisions they were quickly becoming weak, having to take more and more frequent breaks to recuperate.
Dawn lay on her back, lost in memories of Sunnydale as she gazed into nothing. Nothing.nothing described the entire plane of existence they were in at the moment.
"What shall you do when we return Lady Dawn? My travels will be unsuitable for a young Lady such as yourself-"
'Great, Buffy all over.' Dawn thought bitterly.
"- these trials we face now will be nothing compared to the dangers of Middle Earth. Uruk-hai and Orc swell in vast numbers, well trained and with superior strength. Many skilled warriors have gone up against them before only to fall.
There is no knowing what they would do to a young Lady as unprotected such as yourself. The mortal danger would be too great for you, even though you have proved yourself many times in this perilous journey.
I would rest easier knowing your plans. Knowing that you are safe with your family, for as long as possible, however short that time may be."
There was a long pause, his eyes anxiously looking into hers, but Dawns remained blank, devoid of any emotion.
"Lady Dawn" he prompted, "your plans.?"
There was a flame in her eyes as she answered. The flame burnt passionately, but was unable to melt the ice and hatred that consumed them, that had hardened her soul and heart. Eyes that showed a twisted passion and obsession.
"Revenge." Was her one worded answer before turning on her side, her back facing Gandalf, signalling that the conversation was over.
He sighed, honestly worried about the young women. The eyes and the hatred in them.he shifted uneasily. Eyes such as that should not be seen in one so young, nor in one that had seen many winters. Eyes like that were seen in Orc, and Uruk-hai, not humans, elves, dwarf, or hobbit.
They never spoke of it again. Her mind was set and nothing would undo it. She wouldn't rest until she was free, until it was over once and for all.
Gandalf knew that she would leave him as soon as they were on Middle Earth. Trying to change her mind against the revenge she was planning would only push her towards it only more, make her even more determined.
He had been informed of her plan. But was obviously to remain ignorant to its finer details. 'Perhaps it would be for the best' he mused 'there's already more than enough for me to worry about already.'
They carried on with their journey, remembering little of it, and wishing they could forget what remained in their minds.
Dawns wounds weren't healing, though she had made sure that Gandalf knew little of her personal struggle. The small cuts and abrasions remained covered in scabs, often cracking and breaking open.
Her stomach wound was a different matter. It wept of blood and pus constantly, swollen and sore with infection. Small scabs formed around the edge of the wound before dropping off.
It was infected she knew, no surprise really. It had never been cleaned or dressed properly, and despite how careful she was dirt worked its way past the bandages she had made from the cleanest parts of her dress.
'Maybe Glory wasn't lying.' She thought. 'Any normal human would have died from the lack of blood, or if they survived, would soon die from the infection, of the germs and toxins in my bloodstream.'
Her thoughts were often dark, as were her dreams, persuading they were, persuading her to think little of her family, her few friends.
'Had they forgotten her? Had she been wiped from their memories? After all, if she had died wouldn't the fabricated lies and fake memories die with the key, as they were no longer needed? Wouldn't the monks spell have ended if the life force of the key had finished? Were they only remembering the key as a ball of green light, of glowing energy? If they remembered anything at all, of either her or the key. Anything was possible, if she could be inserted into their lives and memories like that, couldn't she be erased? Maybe.maybe it would be easier for them if she wasn't remembered. There would be no grieving, no loss, much less pain in Buffy's life it would be easier for the scoobies to cope, surely? If she had never existed to them other than a ball of energy? Things would return to the way they were before, before she caused so much pain, trouble, unnecessary risk.
They stopped again after they were unable to go on any further. Both were weak and Dawn feared that Gandalf would collapse from the pressures on him. But the old wizard carried on, never asking for help, her help unless absolutely necessary. To ease his pride, allowing it to remain intact she often gave her own advice un-asked, as a suggestion, or an odd thought.
It seemed as if they were travelling in circles, round and round. Everything seemingly familiar, never changing.
Her body dropped down onto the hard ground, knocking the air out of her lungs, she shivered and pulled a thin strip of Gandalf cloak around her frail body. It was cold, and the thin material did little to prevent the dampness from the ground reaching her skin, before the chilling cold went through her bones, her heart.
Her limbs ached, and her head throbbed. Something was digging into her side as she lay curled up in a ball. But she was too tired to move, her body refusing her commands.
'It doesn't really matter' were her last thought's as she fell into a restless sleep, 'I'm, still gonna be stiff, sore, and cold when I wake up anyway.'
A/N: Reviews people, I wanna know what you all think!