Lessons Better Learned
Title: Lessons Better Learned
Rating: PG-13 (violence & adult content)
Genre: Yet another Lord of the Rings/Buffy the Vampire Slayer Crossover (did you really expect anything different?)
Teaser: Buffy learns of her longing for family, despite the dangerous road that lies ahead. Part Two of the series.
Summary: Once upon a time I had this idea. The idea was supposed to be a gift and thus it was. However, others read this gift and decided that it needed to be continued. I'll write more relationship fictions, as I intend to do. But, one of these days, I will write something other than Buffy and some Lord of the Rings male! It's somewhat shorter than its predecessor. It was meant to be for the private Guild showing, but I decided in the end that I was somewhat proud of this part, and after much prompting and a little nudging from my fellow author that I have been spending the holidays with, I have finally decided to post this. This is written for Trish since she requested it, and for Jesse who threatened to beat me with a wet mop if I didn't continue. So, yes, this has turned into an entire Buffy/Haldir series, describing their movements towards eternity, or something of the sort.
Spoilers: Gee, look, we're broaching on familiar territory here. Includes all three books, in case you were wondering, not to mention the extras in the Appendices from Return of the King, included through all of this series.
Disclaimer: Not mine, belongs to respective owners, thus "But A Dream" does belong to me.
Timeline: Well, for those of you curious, Buffy has been in Middle-earth approximately 19 years now up to the point of the Ring being discovered by Gandalf (so within the 30 years before the Fellowship is formed in Rivendell). By the end of this story, it would have been far more than thirty years since her arrival, so she has been involved and swept up with everything for a long, long time. I also prefer not doing such stuffy headers because my guild accepts my faults. They don't vanquish the fact that sometimes even Literature majors cannot spell.
Dedication: To A and to C, who spent many, many months putting up with me. To J, because she utilized by beta-reading skills for Whisper, a story that still leaves me breathless. To add a note to C, because she came up with a fantastic world I want to be a part of. And, lastly, to B, who loves A, who loves B back. Maybe you two will finally get it together enough to plan a future… hmm? Take a hint from the story, peons!
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Lessons Better Learned
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There are some things in the world that could be taken for granted. Grand, epic-scale battles were one of them. Also, an abundance of pretty men, far too tall to admire without getting a staunch crick in the neck, were often seen singing in rather feminine voices over alarming periods of time. Yet the one thing that Buffy Summers took for granted most in this world was her place in it.
She had a place in this world now. She lived in Lórien, amongst the Silvan Elves that dwelt there, under the guardianship of its Lord and Lady. She had spent many years in training as a Ranger from the North and had also trained as a lady from the gardens of Rivendell. Thus, in the years since she had returned to the one place she could truly call home, she had been one of the privileged many to defend its borders against the forces of darkness working to bring down the Elvish paradise.
Still, she couldn't help but marvel at the circumstances which brought her to this world to begin with. After tailing a rather obnoxious demon into a portal, Buffy had wound up in a new forest. She had been able to defeat the creature easily, but had been spotted and seen as prey by large, tall figures wearing feminine cloaks and pointy ears. Elves, they were called. One Elf in particular had been hard-pressed to her from the start, considering she was stronger and faster than he. Yet she spared no remorse in reminding him that she was who she was. She had joined his guard, but it had been for his own amusement above all else that she fought alone in their 'battles'. The same could be said for the other males, who preferred to smirk their arrogant little smiles at her as she fought alone against the other evil forces of darkness.
She hated being ridiculed for her skill, but it had kept her alive above all.
Not to mention that pesky other thing. She had volunteered for guard duty when their Lady Galadriel went to visit her former son-in-law, the Lord Elrond of Rivendell. This excursion had been more than a revelation to her, as she had finally come to accept the Elvish culture she had been rejecting since the first day she'd come to this land. With this acceptance was a longing, and with that longing there was a certain golden Marchwarden.
He had been the cause of her greatest distress. It had been his smirk that had incensed her above all others. He was her leader and as her leader, he was privileged to certain things, one of them being humiliating the one human woman among the Elvish men. She hadn't let it get her down though. She'd fought her battles and shown them all up. While she would have loved to despise him for this constant reminder that she was an outsider, she didn't. She'd gone and fallen in love with him.
She'd first realized it after a beautiful nightly swim together that had ended up as a tangle of bodies in physical passion far more consuming than she had hoped for, or even looked for. Elves served to be amazing creatures, she'd come to discover. They had so much more energy than any man could, not to mention their intensity left nothing for desire. They were very pretty to look at, yet once you got to know one or two, as arrogant as a shoe-rubber and twice as brittle. They were unbreakable, unquenchable and basically unattainable.
So, Buffy, in her usual style of finding the wrong one, had gone off and had fallen in love with the first Elf to see her as a woman, and not as a Slayer or an outsider. One of the benefits of this world was the never-ending supply of courageous men who actually knew how to woo properly. Buffy appreciated this method of being wooed, even though it amounted to mostly bloody fights or sparring with swords. Still, it never hurt to be optimistic.
Haldir was unlike most of the arrogant Elves she had met. Well, in some ways he was even more pigheaded, but in the other ways he was… sweet. Even if she told it to his face, he would probably only use this knowledge to torture her later. He had a way of doing so.
Nevertheless, after one brilliant night together in Rivendell, she had taken up all of her own pride and dignity and ran. She'd been running for ten years before the wooing of others made her realize she was already taken. Her heart had been claimed years before. By the same Elf that had tried to humiliate her or else put her to shame, neither of which he managed to accomplish.
It didn't mean he wouldn't make things difficult for her. After all, it had been her realization that she wasn't aging that made her see that being with an Elf, and a Silvan at that, was possible. It was inevitable. No matter how much she loved the men of this land, and she did, as she had fought beside them for years; her heart was still longing for the touch of the one who could make everything blissfully numb.
After ten years of remaining with the Rangers, she'd gone to Lady Galadriel to figure out what was wrong with her. At thirty, she'd looked young. At forty, she'd looked exactly the same as she had at thirty. Galadriel had explained that she possessed the life of the Eldar, as a Dagnir, or Slayer, of the people. Well, that made things interesting. Making up her mind and picking her heart above her thoughts, she'd gone off to find Haldir, only to find out he'd gone off to war. After making a half-hearted attempt to catch up to him, the two were eventually reunited. Well, if you counted a period of around six months as a reunion. After their first initial meeting, she had pulled away again as fear of rejection set in. She didn't want to be left again. She didn't want to be unloved. And somehow Elves were different from men, as these Silvan had constantly reminded her.
In other words, once they loved someone, unless they died some horribly painful death, it was hard to forget that person.
It had eased her fears enough to actually put everything on the line for an immortal being. Again.
Buffy snorted derisively as she smoothed out the blanket she'd been using while sleeping upon the ground. She'd been traveling alone to the far mountains of Ered Mithrin of the north, past the forest of Mirkwood, while tracking two of the Ringwraiths that had accosted Dol Guldur in the forest across the Anduin. She'd been spending a lot of time alone lately, but it was to her own choosing. While she was still betrothed, it was nice to know that while the couple worked well together, Buffy also preferred to work in solitude.
She had used her guard to track the movements through Dol Guldur to the northern Grey Mountains, but had rejected their help and instead pressed on alone. She knew that Haldir would not be pleased with this decision of hers, but would understand that it was her decision alone to make. In the five years that had passed since she'd returned to her tree city of Caras Galadhon, they had spent much of that time together. But she needed her space, too, hence this journey.
However, her intelligence and research methods sucked in this world. No one had thought to inform her that the Dwarves had been driven centuries ago from these mountains, and that Orcs now claimed them. It was also known that they were home to many dragons, ones who didn't breathe fire but had sharp teeth and unbreakable skin. Tracking two Ringwraiths had seemed like an easy task. Facing an entire army of Orcs, not to mention a fleet of dragons didn't seem very intelligent.
Maybe she should have accepted help from her guard, she thought wryly, watching as two armored beasts halted at the base of a cavern before one swept inside. The horses pranced back and forth, casting their glistening heads. Using her skills that she'd obtained from nineteen years in this land, she held her ear to the ground, hoping to sense movement from within the rocky walls.
The slight rustle of laughter was heard inside, along with sharp voices issuing instructions. Since the language was in the speech of Black, she didn't know it. But it sounded as though these Orc were being recruited for a grand army. This was as far as her knowledge went. There was a new malice, one that Gandalf the Grey, a wizard of these parts, had told them of. He had spoken of the One ring, and it had taken Buffy nearly a year to learn what this one ring had meant.
It was the end of the world, all over again.
Sauron, the servant of the greatest enemy faced in Middle-earth, was summoning all armies, including these Orc from the Ered Mithrin, to his calling. She took a few more hasty steps before dropping her ear back to the ground, listening hard, her breathing labored. They were pressing onwards.
It was perfect time to do a little investigating of her own. Although she had chosen this assignment for herself, she knew the dangers involved. She slipped unnoticed past the horses, grazing on the few brown grasses in the entrance, before darting inside.
The cavern was very dark. Buffy pulled herself against the wall, into shadow, out of sight and sound from all watching and waiting. She moved stealthily along the wall, keeping an ear trained for someone following her. She was quite alone, or so she thought. At the end of the small passageway, she found herself gazing into one of the largest mines she had ever seen.
"This isn't good," she muttered, pulling out her sword and holding it at her side. While she'd imagined many things, seeing a great many fires burning stories below her was still above and beyond her call of duty. She moved along the ledge, in full sight of anyone who happened to glance up, yet the mines seemed abandoned. She reached a place where she could climb down and did so, making as little sound as possible. When she'd finally reached one of the landings, she gently hopped off, tumbling the last ten feet to the metallic ridge where she rose to her feet, glancing around curiously.
She walked along the track, her sword in hand, her eyes never leaving her surroundings, not even to take in the most beautiful sight to behold. Great tunnels seemed to lead into other parts of the mine, and Buffy realized she could get lost rather easily in here. Why this mine wasn't being defended, she would not know. Perhaps all of their attention was drawn away by the two Nazgûl that had seemed to command all attention. Although she longed to hear what they were saying, she knew she wouldn't understand a word of it. Instead, she forced herself to walk this track, passing mining cars and small stations were the Orc had been barreling their riches.
As one of the few outlanders to ever cross through the whole of Lórien, Buffy considered herself lucky. She'd received her fair share of jewels and tiaras, including the soft silver one she wore now. Along with her banded tiara she wore her silver star, set deep with a single pearl. It was the most beautiful thing he had given to her, and it had been given to her as a spoil and the only spoil from his battle nearly ten years before.
She was lucky to have found someone so thoughtful, she thought ruefully, examining her stone under critical light.
Passing through the tunnels was easy. Unfortunately, the further she went the more sound she heard. Great fires crackled at times beneath her, so much so that Buffy found herself climbing onto the ledges again, hovering far above the tiny caverns dotting the opposite shaft. She'd been walking for hours now, and it wasn't the wisest thing to do, since she had limited knowledge of any mines. The Dwarves had helped her all they could on this journey, yet it wasn't quite enough. She didn't want to be sealed in here without an exit, and the thought of being forced to leave a land she had come to love was almost staggering. After gaining all visual knowledge she could, she turned to double back.
Little did she know that she was going further and further into the mines.
At last, she dropped into one of the mining carts, the car rocking slightly beneath her feet as she pulled out her sword again. It was growing very dark now, as it did when she dropped altitude. She was now well underground, the way back to the outside world lost to her.
Buffy sighed irritably and replaced her sword before shifting her way out of the cart, landing once again on the track.
Suddenly, there was a sharp cry from behind her. Buffy turned and saw large shadows on the wall, cast by the fires burning a hundred feet below. Pushing her sweaty hair off of her face, Buffy had no choice but to return to her mining cart, full of stinky, sizzling ore.
But just as she had, there was an almighty wrenching sound as the cart started to pitch downwards along the track. She gasped as she fell onto her backside, glancing upwards as the ceiling above fell rather low as the cart passed through a tunnel.
Things were only going to get from bad to worse, she decided as she forced herself onto her knees and, crying out, pushed herself upwards to see over the top of the jagged metal edge. Her eyes widened at what she saw.
Orcs, hundreds of Orcs, were on the assembly line. There were long rows of carved out ore sitting in fire, as smiths poured buckets of water atop them. They were making swords, she thought idly, watching as this particular operation passed her by. She ducked out of sight as the car continued to descend further, the light of day disappearing completely into such pitch darkness that she felt her heart hammer into her eardrums, the very sound startling all of her already shaken senses. The sound of hammering came far ahead, and the cart pitched sharply to the left before colliding with something with such force Buffy was thrown to the opposite end again. Leaping to her feet, she used her enhanced sight to see the long line of carts waiting to enter another tunnel. As they rolled forward one by one, she began to realize something alarming; the tunnel they were aimed at was one of fire. Large flames wrapped around the cart as each passed through, supposedly melting the ore she was still standing on.
"This was smart," she muttered to herself. Pulling herself up on the side, she glanced around, but in the darkness, it was hard to find an escape route. There were beams above her, and she clasped one of these just as her cart moved forward and the ground beneath her was opened up.
"Oh, this is so not good," she gasped as she pulled herself onto the beam, glancing thousands of feet below at the tracks moving at a great distance. Not only was she lost, but she was trapped in a situation in which she would likely end up dead if she didn't rectify it. Spying a familiar ledge on the rock wall, she moved towards it and dropped down upon it. As she moved around the corridor into the next section, she heard voices that made her blood chill.
They were the Orcs all right, dumping vast quantities of Dwarven-crafted helms for their own usage at a pile far below her. Spying a few dead vines dangling above that swooped below, she gracefully leapt and took one before sliding several hundred feet. She reached the bottom swiftly and suddenly, crying out as her hands grasped the final six inches of the dead plant. Her eyes widened as she felt it lurch; her body weight, no matter how small, was unsettling the vine. And her cry alerted those dumping the helms to her presence. They glanced up and saw a figure in a long, dark blue cloak bobbing above them, clinging to a plant about to give way.
When it snapped, she fell twenty feet to the ground. When she stood up, she found herself facing a half-dozen Orc, all who wore the same hungry expression as they eyed a small human female, glowing with the distinctive light of the Eldar and one who was now unsheathing a sword as though it was her birthright.
She turned and with a front-flip, launched herself into another battle. With one swift punch, she dispelled one Orc before cleaving another cleanly into two. Turning to the others, she snarled before giving chase to them, realizing that, for once, she was moving upwards. She managed to catch two of them with her stunning speed, but the others darted into shadow before she had the chance to kill them, meaning she could be a sitting duck for the archers that could hide in these crevices. Taking the one known crevice she knew was not occupied by her enemy, she sank into it, but not before she fell backwards over a still figure.
Lifting her eyes, she spotted a skeletal figure on the ground. Bending down, she checked it. It was a Dwarf, or it had to be. The only difference was, it wore a great fang into what used to be its neck, and she pulled it out, holding it to the little light that remained in her shelter.
Outside, voices were starting to grow closer as word that a human woman was lost in the mines.
Buffy felt along the walls, but was startled to find no ceiling. It was a narrow enough passageway that she could climb up as far as she could. If she had to kick and punch her way through the rocks to get the hell out of here, it beat the appeal of using her sword to fight her way out. She could beat back a hundred Orc, that wasn't a problem. The problem would come when the two Ringwraiths would come. Buffy had never faced down one, and she never wished to, after learning the story of how the Silvans had been separated.
She heard the soft noise of water far above her. Could it be the mighty Anduin flowed over these hills? Perhaps she could find a way through the top. Glancing back down, she felt the skeletal remains until her hand hit gold, literally. The figure held in his possession a long chain of fine silver and at the end, a beautiful pendant. Tucking it into her belt, she also discovered a Dwarven axe. Since she had a particular fondness for such weaponry, she added it to her arsenal before turning her attention back to escape and cleanly scaling the passageway.
The voices continued to echo and fade as she climbed. The way was treacherous, and at times her footing broke loose and she would have fallen if not for her death-like grip on the axe she was using to pull herself up to the next height. When she'd finally reached the top of the cavern, she saw a brilliant shade of red emanating from her left and moved to crawl through the impossibly tiny space. Once she poked out the other side, she found herself once again lost in the mines.
But as she put her feet back onto a solid surface, she felt a light trickle from overhead and glanced up. There it was, she realized. Daylight.
She moved along the edge, her eyes alert for any approaching enemy. When she at last reached the bottom, she looked around and decided the time had come for her to continue working her way upwards. She dropped down onto another track and continued to crawl and move her way up, darting between mining carts and barrels full of silver and metal.
It was then she heard it; the piercing shriek of a Ringwraith. And it sounded from below her.
Buffy leapt into another cart and huddled down low, appearing as thought she were just ore as the creature appeared, riding on the backs of one of the fireless dragons. As it beat its' great, horned wings, the Nazgûl let out a vehement hiss to the Orc which followed from below.
"I want her found," the voice said, dead and brittle-sounding. Buffy felt her heart start thundering in her ears again as she held her breath, hoping for the great beast to pass.
The dragon gave a great cry just as a sharp light suddenly burst from the one object Buffy had tucked inside her belt.
It was one of the horns, she realized, glancing at the bright red glow. It was probably setting her off as fireworks, making her appear as obvious to the Ringwraith as she appeared in the daylight.
There was a hiss of triumph and Buffy leapt into the air just as the horned tail came crashing down, crushing the mining cart in one harsh blow. She landed unsteadily on the tracks, coming face-to-face with the dragon, which grinned at her with teeth that had to be six inches long. Rearing great, ugly claws, it started for her. Crying out, Buffy ducked and rolled away, nearly falling off the track. She managed to stay on by maintaining a one-handed hold before flipping herself back on top of the metallic railing.
"Oh, you found me," she muttered, dashing along the railing, her boots clicking on the soft silver metal as she continued to dash, only ducking when a great horned claw came out of the distance to grab at her. She came to a stop at a small station, her eyes looking for anything to use against the creature chasing after her. Her eyes fell upon a single bow and over a hundred arrows and she smiled grimly as she lifted her favorite weapon into her hands and with ease hocked an arrow. With Elvish ease and grace, she released unholy torment upon the creature, raining arrows down onto the dragon just as flanks of Orc burst through the cavern. Leaping on top of the barrel, she kicked the other two over, watching as they rolled. The Orcs on the tracks had no place to run and were bowled over, their bodies flying off into the abyss far below. Flipping backwards and quickly regaining her footing, she grabbed a quiver and yanked it over her shoulder as she continued to run upwards.
The Orcs laid pursuit. She had no sooner dispelled one group when two more replaced it. Seeing nothing but a single alternative left, she pulled out the poisoned horn and waved it in her hand. She had heard stories of old from the Dwarves she had learned not to trust of the explosive properties of the mining operations in these mountains. If she destroyed them now, she needed a catalyst, and this proved to be accurate. The Orcs stopped their pursuit, their bloodthirsty snarls telling her all she needed to know as she leapt from one track to the next seamlessly, the horn still in her hand. There were fires in the walls not twenty feet away. But as she turned, the second Ringwraith appeared on its own dragon.
And this one, it turned out, could breathe fire.
Buffy ducked aside just as a stream of flame issues from its mouth. Crying out as her shoulder was singed; she dropped to her knees before firing two arrows at the dragon's chest. The creature cried out and recoiled, but not before the damage had been done. The Dagnir was wounded now, and couldn't carry such speed and accuracy with an injury as she had. Yet she continued to move, limping now from her hard fall hours before. She fired arrows into the chasm and to her dismay, found herself in yet another mine.
She was never going to get out of here alive.
"Haldir, forgive me," she whispered as she turned about, bow in hand. She was running out of arrows now and being pursued by over a hundred Orc and two injured dragons wasn't going to be enough to stop this Slayer.
Her salvation came with the sudden discovery of even more barrels. But unlike the others, filled with jewels or pebbles, this one was filled with a coarse, grainy powder. Glancing up, she saw the enemies on approach. She also saw a hard metal rod bobbing on a wench. If she could blast the hell out of this room, the rod would go straight up and send the Slayer with it. She had no choice, even if it was suicide. She was lost in these caves and unless she received necessary help now, she could see none coming.
She turned her bow and jabbed it into one of the endless fire pits. It burned brightly as she pulled it out. She was burning her one useful weapon as she jumped and took hold of the rod with one hand, and threw the bow down into the powder with the other.
The resounding explosion rocked the entire mine. Buffy screamed as she felt her body being forced upwards, thick black smoke and deep flames billowing around her as the rock overhead gave way. Buffy found herself spiraling through the dark abyss outside before landing hard on soft ground. Overhead, she saw bits of red rock and smoke curling towards the moon, ever so high above.
"And the rockets red glare," she sang tunelessly under her breath as the pain in her shoulder seemed to double with the effort of breathing, "and the bombs bursting in air… gave truth to the night…" Before she could finish the words to a song she'd known since grade school, she blacked out.
She awoke with the soft sigh of a river running close to her. She turned onto her stomach and pulled herself into a painful seated position, her hand reaching for her torched shoulder. It stung and was still bloody. Wrapping it up as best as she could by ripping her own cloak, she glanced at the river flowing and saw, to her delight, the curl of black smoke still coming from the mines below. She could tell from the position of the hills and her other landmarks that she was too far east. She was almost directly north of Mirkwood now, and her only chance of escape would be the river.
The Anduin proved to be fruitful again. Yet as she sailed on its smooth waters, she forced herself to watch the sky in case the Nazgûl would return and claim their prey. She didn't hear one cry or see so much as a figure during her week's passage to the Fields of Gladden. Following these, she stored her canoe from sight and hid under the thick underbrush as Orc freely crossed these lands.
As she moved south, it was though something larger was tugging on her very being. There was an unstoppable malice in these fields, and she could sense it so cleanly.
It had to be the cursed Ring of Power, she decided. It had an enormous pull on her, even from this distance and she wasn't one bearing it. It was close to Lórien, she decided. Much too close. Her gaze looked east to the Hithaiglin. The mountains of mist were shadowed today, but with them came a great vibe of darkness. She shuddered slightly as she turned her attention to the small boat she was now piloting down the river, looking as little as driftwood.
The journey to Lórien took longer than expected. She finally reached Caras Galadhon on the fourteenth of January, more than ten months after she'd first left. She was welcomed by her former guard who regarded her with kindness, as they would one of their own.
She was quite anticipating her meeting with her Marchwarden however, and found his embrace to be as full of warmth and hope as she'd been longing for.
He'd also gotten along to treating her as one in grave peril. After forcing her to lie down so that he could have Orophin tend to her wounds, he watched her face as his brother cleaned the deep wound upon her shoulder. Buffy was talking about her mission now, something that greatly interested many of the Elves, yet Haldir didn't wish for any of them to enter his private hovel. Instead, he guarded the door, his face set in an arrogant mask Buffy knew was reserved for those wishing to go against his will. But if there was one thing she knew about Elves, it was that if they had a will, it was their way, no matter what.
It was one of the reasons she had come to love him.
Once Orophin had vanished, Haldir gently eased her into conversation.
"It's not something I'm really looking forward to talking about," she said uncomfortably, stretching out on his bed.
"Yet we must know what you found," he said, his piercing blue eyes never leaving her face.
"I know," she said in a small, defeated voice. "But give me time, okay? I saw a lot of things that I really don't want to relive again. If any of that came here… well, your guard would actually be busy for once. I doubt I could handle everything alone."
"You have handled much alone," he said, sitting next to her. He met her soft green gaze and reached over to take one of her hands. "Is this not the dangers you spoke of?"
She gave him a sad smile as she sat up and moved to rest within his embrace. "I know I talk a lot," she muttered irritably, "but that's the price you pay for betrothing yourself to a Slayer."
"There are always dangers in matters of the heart, meleth," he said, gently pressing his cheek against her hair. She relaxed in his arms and he felt her sigh.
"You're telling me, Pretty Boy," she yawned, smirking. "I'll give my report to the others, but just so you know, this past year hasn't been much fun for me."
"I have missed you," he said softly, speaking into her ear. He felt her shiver slightly as she turned her exhausted face to him.
"I missed you," she said, her eyes shining as she kissed his chin, giggling slightly. "You have no idea how much I wished you had been with me."
"You refused my offer to aid," he said, watching as she relaxed back down in his arms, closing her eyes.
"I know," she replied.
"As you have rejected my offers repeatedly since you declared devotion," he added, his eyebrows rising fairly as he glanced down into her unlined face.
"I know," she muttered, sounding more irritated now.
"Not to mention—"
"Okay, that's overkill," she muttered, opening her eyes and staring up at him. "If I'm going to have to spend the rest of our lives together listening to you critique me, chop me up now."
"This I would not do to you," he assured her, kissing her forehead as she closed her eyes once again. "Melin le, Dagnir," he whispered.
She smiled up at him. "Hannon le," she murmured. "Love you, too."
He waited until she had fallen asleep before leaving her. Glancing through the things on the ground that had gone with her on her journey, he found a small curved horn that burned a brilliant shade of red before setting it on top of a small table. He would ask her about it later.
As he approached, his guards asked him if she had recovered enough to tell her tales. She hadn't, and that wasn't going to change until she had some rest. He swept through his own ranks and found himself appearing before the Lady Galadriel. Once he told her all he knew, he retreated to back to his talan to find his Meleth hadn't yet left sleep. He sat and watched her rest, praying that her inner turmoil pass.
Two days later, after spending a great deal of time telling Galadriel and Celeborn about her mission to the great north did she return with Haldir on duty.
They had already spent hours discussing things, much to her chagrin. They walked together now, talking quietly. Even as they passed, her senses became well aware that the Ring was moving closer yet, and still…
"Haldir, nad no ennas," she whispered, breaking formation and darting forward to stand on top of a small rock, jutting out of the earth. He saw her lift her hand to her eyes and gaze to the north and saw her face tense. "There are eight coming."
Haldir made the signal to the rest of the archers and held out his arm as she leapt into his side and he gently put her upon the ground before they stole forward. Voices were now filtering through the woods and with it a certain robust tone that could only come from a Dwarf.
He noticed that she moved to stand next to Orophin, pulling her Elven bow from her shoulder, an arrow already in her opposite hand.
The party of eight paused when the Elves came out of the woods and pressed in upon them, their arrows pointing at every single member. Buffy was astonished to find an arrow pointing right back at her as she stood in position besides Orophin, her gaze sharp and wary. After spending two days holed up in the mines from hell, she wasn't about to trust just anyone.
"The dwarf breathes so loud we could have shot him in the dark," Haldir said, adopting his holier-than-thou tone as he stepped from the woods to stand next to his betrothed. She didn't glance up at him, but kept her arrow aimed for the Elf still aiming his own arrow towards her.
Her eyes scanned the group. There was the Dwarf, she thought, her lip curling with distaste. With him were four other stout figures. Hobbits, or something as Galadriel had called them. The Elf was rather obvious, as he was tall and seemed to glow as brightly as her brethren did. What surprised her were the two men. One was completely unfamiliar to her, and yet the other was…
"Strider," she muttered under her breath.
"Haldir o Lórien," Strider said, pressing a hand respectively to his chest before holding his hands upwards in a sign of surrender. "Boe ammen veriad nîn."
So, he wanted their protection. Interesting, she thought wryly as she lowered her bow a quarter of an inch to gaze at the Ranger she'd left behind years ago. It was then that Strider saw her and his eyes widened, for he knew this woman as she stood beside the Marchwarden, glowing in ethereal light as he did.
"Tolo," Haldir ordered, turning as his guards lowered their arms, allowing Legolas to do the same. His eyes were on the small blonde woman, however. She was impeccably human, since she didn't radiate nearly as much as his own immortal race did, yet she was gifted with the grace of the Eldar. Haldir gave her one look and she quickly fell into line beside him as the others followed in suit. They journeyed south towards Caras Galadhon when they stopped. Haldir beckoned for Strider and the opposite Elf to climb into the platform with him, and the woman stepped forward without question and followed him before the two guests climbed up behind her.
When they reached the top, they found the woman standing on the edge, looking at them with cool intensity. Haldir, on the other hand, was gazing at them with deepest suspicion. After exchanging words in which Buffy knew that this was Strider, ala Aragorn, and Legolas of the neighboring woodland realm of Mirkwood, she found herself listening as Aragorn explained, in clear English, who they were.
The woman listened cleanly before interrupting, in the clear language of the land she lived, "Apahar aen?" she asked calmly, asking whether or not they had been followed.
Strider turned to her, shook his head and smiled, bowing his head respectively. "Dagnir, mellon nîn o Lórien," he said softly.
"Good to see you too, Strider," she said, throwing him a bemused smile before turning her attention to Haldir. She knew he wasn't sure whether or not to give these travelers protection. She drew upon the bond between them, the one that allowed them to speak telepathically to one another. He turned to her as she beckoned him, and as her eyes bored into his, he heard her own concerns.
He gave her a firm nod at last and turned to the others, his face impassive and calm, although his demeanor showed off his abundant arrogance. "Si bado," he finally said. "You are allowed passage. Come."
As they left the platform, Buffy learned that the party traveling with them was well-rounded indeed. Four Hobbits from the Shire were with them, along with a man from Gondor (or Minas Tirith, as Strider had said), not to mention one of the Dwarves, the son of Glóin. Haldir moved forward before offering her a hand and together they descended. Seeing the Marchwarden in the company of a human woman was one thing, but this Aragorn understood. This was the Elf that had laid claim to her heart and had turned her demeanor to frost for over nine years in his company. He watched as they moved together, their movements practiced and fluidic. They weren't touching, but they stood close enough, and he could tell by the intense vibe sweeping from both of them that there was a great deal of both love and respect between them for both parties involved. He respected her power and her strength, while she respected his heritage and his quirky arrogance, as she had called it so many times in his service.
At last they reached a clearing and beyond that lay the great city of Caras Galadhon. At the base of the city, they paused to rest for the evening, and the party of Aragorn came forward to inquire about the woman in a host of Elvish guards.
"She has been betrothed to the Warden for nearly twenty years," Aragorn said in a soft voice, watching as the couple dispatched the rest of the guard to take night watch themselves.
Striking in posture she was, for her back was as straight as any of Elf-kind. She was much smaller than they and bore no resemblance to the Silvan Elves. Her only rewarding factor was her slight glow as she walked upon the ground that night, her bow in her hand.
Yet, for her part, one of her most accomplished gifts was the gift of the median. She could feel the great battle this group had just undergone. They had lost one to their ranks, and Buffy had a sad feeling it was their strongest member. Seeing Strider as Aragorn was shocking, as he hadn't told her his true name in her ten loyal years of service to him. However, she felt most of her attention drawn between the dark-haired Hobbit who went by the name of Frodo. According to Aragorn, he was the one that carried the Ring of Power. She felt the deep conflict within him. But there was another member she felt. Her eyes were drawn to Boromir, the other man, from Gondor. She sat near him, watching his face carefully as he slept. She was going to need to have words with him.
At daybreak, Aragorn and the others awoke, somewhat well-rested, to find that Haldir and Buffy were waiting for them. It was another half-day's journey into the city before they reached the private landing of their Lord and Lady and it was there that they both bowed and stepped aside. To the uttermost delight of the eight weary travelers, seeing the evanescent glow from above brought hope into each of their hearts. After a quick bout of counsel from Galadriel and Celeborn, they were allowed to rest.
Buffy went with them, since it had been far too long since she'd seen another man. Haldir chose to part and embraced her, whispering something into her ear before parting. She smiled wistfully after him before spying the others breaking camp below. They glanced up and saw her approach without her cloak or armor, donned in a gown of soft-set pale green, her hair down and braided about her face, with a small crown of silver set on her brow.
Despite the fact she obviously wasn't an Elf, she certainly appeared to be one as she came to their location and lifted her hand in greeting.
"Mae Govannen," Aragorn said, moving to pull her aside. "It has been a long time, Buffy."
"Yes, it has," she said, standing on her tiptoes to glance curiously over his shoulder. Aragorn suppressed a smile at the expression on her face; it had been a long time since she'd seen a creature other than an Orc or an Elf, he decided as he took her by the arm and led her into his encampment. After a round of introductions, she noticed the Hobbits were staring at her in awe. Well, Buffy knew she looked pretty. It was just one of the givens after having Elrond counsel on mannerisms and Glorfindel counsel on the essentials of hair-braiding. With the glow from her own heart, she knew she appeared opalescent.
Legolas was the first to come forward as a soft song started filtering from above. His eyes met her soft jade green ones as he heard the lament to his beloved mentor. "A lament to Gandalf," he said softly as she nodded. "I had yet to meet you, as you have become so well known, even to my father. I am Legolas, son of Thranduilion."
"Mae govannen," she said, offering him her hand. As he grasped it, her gaze turned to the Hobbits. "You don't have to look at me like that. I'm not going to hex you or anything, nor am I any goddess. I'm Buffy."
The Hobbits, one by one, introduced themselves, lastly with Frodo, who gave her a softened look. "There has been word of you from Gandalf," he said softly.
Well, that wasn't a surprise, she thought dryly as she clasped his hand, and as she pulled it away, she felt some of the warmth from her grasp move into his. He felt the warmth in his heart and met her kind eyes and knew then he'd found someone with the strength to repel the darkness which sought him out.
She then turned to the Dwarf who stared at her. After exchanging pleasantries, she asked him where he came from and spoke of her last mission in the Grey Mountains.
"That land is treacherous to travel and even more deadly to behold," he said, scanning her up and down. "For one of the Elf-kind, you have done well for yourself."
"I try," she said dolefully. If Haldir saw her playing nice with the Dwarf, she'd never hear the end of it. Turning, she glanced for the eighth member of the Fellowship and found him sitting on a rock a few meters away from the rest of the party.
"Hello," she said, gesturing to the spot next to him. "Can I sit down?"
He moved over, staring hard at her. "You are no Elf."
"That much is a given," she chuckled as she sat down next to him, gazing intently into his soft grey gaze. "I'm Buffy."
"Boromir," he replied, his voice hushed as he glanced around the Elvish paradise. "How did you come to live in such a place?"
"Fate," she quipped darkly. "Fate and some ungodly reason stuck me here but to my heart's content, I'm happy. I could not say the same for you, Boromir. You see, I can feel when others aren't exactly all right…" Her gaze softened at the panicky look flashing through his eyes. "You have no reason to fear me. I will not hurt you."
"The Lady spoke of my father," Boromir said, glancing away. "She spoke of my family and the blood spilt through many generations to keep this world safe."
He turned back to her when he felt her warm touch on his arm. His eyes widened with surprise as he met her green-eyed gaze. "You are alone in this fight," she said quietly. "I, too, have felt this pain. I have spent my life dedicated to the fight against evil. I get to fight the bad guys. I've been pretty much alone my entire life, until now." Her smile vanished when she saw the harsh emotions spreading across his face. "Your heart wills you different from your thoughts," she said, rising. "Don't worry about making the right choices. When the time comes, they'll come to you." Bending down, she did something unexpected as she wrapped her arms around him, closing her eyes as she felt her warmth spread to his astonished touch. "Be safe, Boromir of Gondor. Your people need you."
Turning, she left him in peace. Another pair of grey eyes followed as Aragorn stepped into the clearing. He'd been most surprised when she'd gone to embrace him. He'd seen her face move from one of a warm welcome to pity and then lastly to understanding. If he hadn't known any better, he would have taken her down to Minas Tirith for Boromir when she'd been unattached. Despite their difference in age, since she was nearly fifty now, they would have been a strong pair together, just as she and her Marchwarden were now.
"Is she truly for real?" Boromir asked, watching as her beautiful glow disappeared as she trailed off.
"She is," Aragorn replied. "She traveled with the Rangers for nearly ten years before she returned here to find her love."
"The Elf," Boromir said, a deep sadness in his eyes. "She would have been such strength for Gondor, but alas should this Elf take her within his grasp."
Aragorn didn't have an answer for this. His eyes were still on the troubled expression on his kinsman's face, and he didn't know how to respond to that, either.
Buffy made her way silently into her shared talan before lying on the bed. It was getting quite late, and while she wanted to bathe, she felt the day's events return to her and bring with them exhaustion. Turning, she rose and gathered her things before leaving word for Haldir.
She came to a private pond a fair distance from the others. After she'd drawn herself a bath and rinsed off the rich lather, she stepped into a cooler pond and began relaxing the tensions from the day.
It wasn't five minutes before a pair of familiar arms wound themselves around her waist. She smiled as she relaxed her form against his, her arm reaching up and twisting itself around his neck as she turned in his arms. His lips found hers urgently, his hands moving down to hold her to him. As their movements became more frenzied, as did her passion, building to the point as he pinned her against the rocky wall, her legs wrapped effectively around his waist, her arms pinned over her head as their bodies moved as one. His lips traced a line of fire down her collarbone and she whimpered softly into his ear as they continued to move. It was several hours before they returned to the privacy of his talan, and yet they kept up these movements, growing with more and more feverous desire and stamina until daybreak when, spent at last, she fell asleep in his arms. He cradled her delicately, his eyes gazing into nothing as his mind rested.
She awoke a few hours later, and lifted herself from him, moving to the other end of the small room before dressing. Leaving him to rest, she departed.
She appeared before the Fellowship in a gown of white that morning. They were standing in a circle speaking when the figure came to them, and Aragorn warmly welcomed her. She had a radiant glow about her in the bright light, something the others attested to her being well-rested, though she was nothing of the sort.
For the next few weeks, the Fellowship prepared to take leave on the Anduin towards Gondor. Buffy had never been to Gondor, although she'd been to the north and west, but never that far to the south. Although she was intensely curious about Gondor, she kept her conversation to Boromir. She could feel his conflict and turned her personal attention and care towards him, much to Haldir's distaste. He didn't have anything to worry about, since they had been bonded for far too long for their bond to be broken now, but to feel her affections for a man was something he couldn't comprehend. It wasn't love, but it was friendship, as she kept telling him night after night.
A few days before the Fellowship was to depart, Aragorn finally pulled Buffy aside.
"You seem happy here," he said as they walked under the trees.
"I am," she replied, smiling at him. "My life is very full here."
"You finally have the love of the one you seek," he pointed out.
"I always have," she said, a sad smile gracing her features. "And now I always will."
This brought up the discussion of his love for Arwen Undomiel, the Evenstar from Rivendell and his own mortality. Despite Buffy's protests that their cases weren't the same, she supposed they had been in the beginning.
"It is her choice," Buffy finally said as they came to rest on the banks of one of the small babbling brooks. "I know how hard it is to love someone who's going to live forever. I've done it and now, for some odd reason, I've been given the light of the Eldar, so I know that…" She broke off, giving him a guilty smile. "I don't have anything to worry about unless one of us gets seriously dead sometime soon."
"There is nothing to feel shame for," Aragorn said, realizing then how fortunate he was to have known this woman. No wonder Haldir, one of the coldest, most arrogant Elves of the Silvan, loved her. She was strong and brave, fast and courageous and had such a heart on her that it burned brightly, even in the dead of night. He noticed her curious smile and chose to evade the more obvious questions.
The guards came from the darkness and with them was their leader. He noticed how she brightened when spying either the Marchwarden or one of his two brothers. When she wasn't playing hostess to the Fellowship, she was with the guards. He'd heard her speaking far more Elvish in this time than he'd heard from her ever. She was really well-versed in it, now. Of course, she'd had nearly twenty years to learn it all.
She left him there and moved on to Haldir's side. Aragorn watched the hand he placed on her back to pull her into the shadows with him.
"What's this?" she asked curiously as he continued to lead her through the trees until they'd come to rest at a small private fountain.
"This is no matter of lightness," he said heavily. Instantly, the smile vanished from her face.
"What is it?" she asked, taking a step away from him. "Meleth, what is on your mind?"
"We have spent many years together," he said, watching her face for her reaction.
"We have," she said, taking a step closer again and reaching out to put her hand to his face. "Things haven't changed. I still love you. You still have my love, Haldir. I don't think it'll ever change." She was sure it wouldn't. They had been through far too much together. And that had created a bond between them. They had saved each other's lives before. They had been connecting in deeper ways than she ever thought possible and he never could resist the urge to surprise her. "What is it?"
His question was direct. "Do you wish to go with the Fellowship?"
She stared at him for a moment in silent shock before gasping indignantly, "No! Of course not! I wouldn't trade anything to be here, with you and the others!"
"Of this you are certain?" he asked.
She answered it with one of her searing kisses, leaving no doubt in his mind where her heart truly lied.
Yet four days later, as she approached the bank of the Anduin as the three canoes were lined against the rocky surface, she half-wished she was going with them. They had such an adventure ahead of them, and with Boromir's continuing gloominess, her lightness would be most welcome. Aragorn and Legolas had both invited her to join, yet she desisted. Her heart was with her people, as she had spoken to them both, and they hadn't forced the issue. She watched as Lord Celeborn said his goodbyes, but Buffy recalled the conversation from the parting feast the night before this short journey. Celeborn had warned Aragorn of the dangers ahead. The Eastern Shore of the Anduin had been taken by Orcs. Buffy knew this, despite her mission, and had been well prepared for hiding into the shadows. But from the few guards she had been on to the south and west, she had discovered Orcs that were able to face sunlight, Orc bearing the white-hand. These seemed more dangerous and deadly, something she wasn't sure she liked. Despite her longing to go after these creatures, she remained safely in the forest with the guard. It was far too reckless to take on this malice alone. This was coming from someone who had just faced off two Ringwraiths and their entire mine of pet Orcs.
If Boromir had asked her alone to save his sanity, it would have been another matter altogether. After listening to his stories of Gondor for weeks, she longed to see the great city of Osgiliath, the former capital of Gondor, and the former tower of the Sun, Minas Tirith. Her true heart was in adventure, and despite being a guard for a closed people, she knew that even more adventure lurked on the outside.
Saying goodbye was difficult but not too hard for the Slayer. The Hobbits were easiest. She shook hands with them before assisting them into the boats. The Dwarf was next. Despite Haldir's rather amusing scowl, she clasped the Dwarf's shoulder and smiled at him. "Despite what my Pretty Boy says, your people are all right," she said. He bowed his head respectfully at this before departing.
Legolas was next. Buffy hadn't spent too much time around him, and yet she knew they would get along great. He was so piercing and young with both youth and agility. He brought stability crashing around her as he took her hand and whispered, "Hannon le."
"I didn't do anything," she protested.
"You have brought more than you know," he assured her, before parting.
Boromir was second-to-last. She hugged him tightly, saying comforting words, hoping they would break through the dark cloud pressing tighter around him. "When in doubt, trust your heart," she said, pulling away and pressing her fist to her heart. He gave her a wan smile before pushing off in his own canoe.
Lastly was Aragorn, who stood before his former protégé and smiled sadly at her. "I do not yet know if we will meet again, Dagnir," he said softly.
"Oh, we'll meet again," she said, throwing him her confident smile as they grasped hands. "Make no mistake about it, Ranger boy."
She returned to Haldir's side then, and he noticed the sadness crossing her face as they disappeared. Lady Galadriel was standing in the thicket above them, her hand in the air as the three small ships passed away.
"You look troubled, Dagnir," he said, taking her hand as they returned for the journey to their city.
"I know that there are bad things ahead for them," she replied.
"Do you wish now that you had gone with them?" he asked.
"No," she said firmly, squeezing his hand a bit tighter than she'd intended. His eyes widened as he looked down at her. "I'm perfectly content here."
"You are not," he said, watching her face. "You are restless here."
"We have our own trials coming, Haldir," she said patiently. "I have no time to worry about a Fellowship trying to destroy some Ring. Not when we have newbies to train."
"I could have done this in your stead," Haldir protested.
"I'm not leaving you again," she amended, stopping. He turned to look at her. "I almost lost you once… I'm not going to risk it again. So, whether you like it or not, I'm with you."
"Do you not account for your passing to the north as leaving?" he asked, arching one eyebrow as he smirked at her.
"Damn you," she pouted, turning and attempting to walk away. She would have had he not taken her by the shoulders.
After a more private moment together, they continued on.
When they reached the city, they found their Lord Celeborn waiting for them. "The Lady Galadriel has yet to return, but upon thee I bestow this." He moved aside and Buffy's eyes widened as she felt Haldir's hand tighten in her own.
"That changes things," she muttered under her breath as she saw the fallen form of Gandalf the Grey lying on a cot.
"This changes much," Lord Celeborn replied, glancing at his Marchwarden and the Dagnir in a very serious matter. "And yet this world will be changed to no end when this battle is finally over. If they do not succeed natha daged dhaer."
"I know this," Buffy said softly, almost regretting her decision to not join a Fellowship so close to breaking. She was so loyal to the world she was now tied to that any trace of anything threatening to break it was going to be killed in the most painful way possible.
Haldir led her away. He noticed her troubled face as they returned to their talan. He gently kissed her shoulder as he moved to his bed. She watched him undress before joining him. Once their heartbeats returned to normal, she pressed her ear to his heart and smiled softly. "That's a beautiful sound," she commented.
His reply was a swift kiss to the crown of her golden head.
"Haldir," she said, pulling back. "What do you think about a more permanent union between us?"
His gaze was curious as it met hers. "What is this you speak of?"
"Would you ever see yourself as hervenn-nîn?" she asked softly. His eyes widened as he surveyed her face before his usual arrogant look overcame his features.
"I believed you to be above such things," he replied, pulling her closer again. As he moved on top of her, holding her beneath him, their lips met and for a moment, her thoughts drifted away before coming to crash down again.
"I'm not," she said, and he pulled back, his blazing eyes now openly curious. "I just watched a weird sort of family leave these shores, Meleth-nîn. You've had my love for so long now, but I want more. I want a family someday of my own. You know, our own little Marchwardens running around."
He arched one eyebrow as he gently rolled from on top of her. "Truly?" he asked calmly.
"I know this isn't what you probably wanted, knowing that you live forever," she replied, running her fingertips lightly over his muscular arm, "but I'm not immortal. I mean, I am, but I'm also the Slayer. And if there's one thing that being near death and surrounded by people going to their death has taught me, it's that there's so much we can do with the time given to us. I don't want to lose you. And I don't want to waste anything. I gave myself to you a long time ago. But now it's time to bind myself to you forever."
"If this is truly what your heart desires…" he said slowly, and at the expression of glee on her face, he kissed her again as she rested her forehead against his.
"Hannon le," she whispered, kissing his nose. "You will not regret this."
"I am most certain I will," he said.
"Stop being such a sissy boy," she smirked.
"Only if you act more of a realist," he replied tartly.
"As long as you're still my Pretty Boy when I'm done," she said, smiling.
"I have no doubt in my mind I would never not be," he said dryly.
"I love you," she said, cuddling into him again.
He murmured her words as he rested his head against hers.
As they started making plans for a more private ceremony, Gandalf started to walk about again. Buffy was summoned to meet with both him and Galadriel and it was that same day another surprise came in the form of the two dark-haired twins of Elrond.
Buffy nearly shrieked when she saw them, tackling them with energy worthy of an Elf.
Their news was not of the good, as she would later put it.
They had been summoned from Rivendell. The Fellowship was in danger, it was spoken. They were on their way, with the others outside of the forest, to meet with Aragorn. And they had been instructed by their Father to bring the Slayer, who had once been in league with both the twins and the Ranger, with them.
This meant putting her potential wedding on hold, something she was not looking forward to doing.
And it meant having to say goodbye to Haldir, something else she didn't want to do.
He found her at their fountain, her hand trailing in the gentle flow of water.
"I'm sorry," she said softly, her gaze meeting his in the reflection of the pool. His hands came up to rest on her shoulders.
"You will return," he said softly. "When you do, I promise thee…"
She rose. "I know," she said, reaching for his hands. "I get it."
That night, their last together, neither one could sleep. They just stared into the other's eyes, memorizing each line and crevice. Buffy felt as though her heart were going to break again. She was going to war. And war would soon come upon Lórien. She was worried for her people, but she knew that Lady Galadriel had much strength.
"I'll be okay," she assured her Marchwarden as they made their way to the north that morning. He had been watching her closely, as though he were unwilling to release her into the cold world that lay beyond. "I've always been the stronger one." She nearly laughed at his scowl, yet he pulled her into his warm arms and held her for the longest time, until Elladan cleared his throat with a small, hacking cough. As she pulled back, she was blinking away tears. He bent down and pressed his lips to her forehead, savoring her scent one final time.
"Be safe," he said, bending down to speak into her ear. "Estelio ammen."
"Always," she said, giving him one last smile as she removed herself from his warm arms and turned, heading out into the wilderness with the twin sons of Elrond.
Each step took her farther away from her home, and yet the sun shone down on her, warming her heart which was starting to freeze with the thought of losing the one person she had come to love and respect above all others.
But of Buffy's own resolve, her will had yet to be tested.
In the months that followed, Buffy felt as though her everything was tested. It was the first time she was separated from Haldir with the thought of death approaching from both ends. Her heart ached every night on the road in the distance from her beloved. The Rangers brought joy and laughter back to her heart as, for the first time, she saw the adventurous road of the south.
It is what she had been seeking, and it finally had been found.
- - - - -
the end.