Equinoxium: Chapter 14
by Lisette
Legalese: See Chapter 1 for disclaimers and ratings. Additionally, credits to Tolkien for the beautiful Elvish hymn.
"A Elbereth Gilthoniel, silivren penna mriel o menel aglar elenath!"
Smiling softly, Buffy leaned back as far as she dared upon Drlum's broad back, the sun's long rays warming her skin and causing her mind to lazily drift from one half-thought to another as the soothing elvish hymn washed away her lingering grief and sadness. Her eyes were closed, her hands lightly supporting her weight on each dark gray flank, with her head tilted back until her hair formed a long, golden veil that swayed with the cool fall breeze.
"Na-chaered palan-driel o galadhremmin ennorath."
To her right, she could hear the soothing murmur of the Anduin's rushing waters, the soft burble an odd contrast to the swishing of Drlum's long tail and the clop of each heavy foot upon the green grasses on which they tread. With each bump and shift of the large horse, Buffy's legs knocked against Legolas' as he directed the horse along the river bank, the soft knickers of the other animals creating a quiet cadence around them.
"Fanuilos, le linnathon nef aear, s nef aearon."
For how cold the nights were becoming, the day was uncommonly warm with the sun shining in a perfect, cloudless blue sky - a sky that continued to throw her, no matter how many days or weeks she had already spent in this strange world. Even in Southern California she had never seen a sky so clear and beautiful, unmarred by smog or pollution. She imagined that this was how the skies back home were supposed to look; the way that they had looked for thousands upon thousands of years before mankind got too much into the modern revolution. Not that she begrudged the advances that they had made in the past hundreds of years. If anything, being forced to go without modern-day conveniences had helped to drive home everything that she had always taken for granted. If anything this constant reminder of what her world had lost and in contrast, all that they had gained, was enough for Buffy to admit that she was truly unqualified to say which was better. Having been a slayer for seven years, she knew that having the best of both worlds was usually a dream, but to choose one?
"If you lean back any further, I fear that you will fall from Legolas' horse - again."
Mirdan's quiet observation pulled Buffy from her lazy thoughts as she tilted her chin further back, allowing the sun's rays to bathe her face with warmth. "Faker," she stated, her words directed at the dark-haired elf that rode to the right of her and the prince, alongside the river's bank. "And here I thought that you were unconscious when I was thrown from the horse."
Smiling cheekily, Mirdan ran his hand through his horse's long, brown mane. "I was," he admitted, patting his hand gently against the soft suede of Rodwen's coat, "but Thoron was kind enough to tell me of what I had missed."
Shaking her head, Buffy turned in the other direction, one green eye sliding open to glare half-heartedly at the stern-looking advisor that rode on their other side, before once more turning her face to the sun. "Where I'm from," she stated, letting the taunt go, "we have nothing but sunshine almost every day of the year. And how cold it is now? This is our idea of winter."
Frowning in puzzlement, Elrohir urged his horse to step closer to the small triumvirate as his gaze swept over the young woman's bared arms and to the long jacket that lay draped across her lap, as though forgotten. "It is cold for you then," he stated as a soft, cool breeze swept over their party, causing the fine hairs on Buffy's arms to prickle and stand on end.
"Not unbearably so," she negated with a small wave. "Just a bit nippy."
"Then why are you not wearing your coat?" Elladan asked, having followed his brother's gaze to the long coat that half-hid her form-fitting leggings from sight.
"Because if I want to keep this California tan, I need to take advantage of this sunshine while I have the chance," Buffy returned, opening her eyes and squinting against the glare as she finally straightened, her hands wrapping loosely around Legolas' waist.
Once more the horses followed the winding banks of the Anduin, the long grasses bending beneath each fallen foot and twisting with the gentle fall breeze. To their left stood a copse of trees, separate from the forest of Mirkwood while thick enough to block view of the dark shadows that strangled the woods this far south. Yet Buffy's thoughts weren't on those dark shadows, but rather on the brilliant shades of reds and oranges that filled the trees' leafy canopies. Having grown up in southern California, she had never really been treated to the full beauty of fall, and now she found her mind inevitably turning past this season and coming to the one that followed quickly on its heels. "Are we going to get snow?" she asked, unsure whether she was delighted or dismayed by the thought. It would be neat to see snow again, but what with current accommodations being what they were, she had the feeling that sleeping in the cold, powdery mess would be even less appealing than the cavern floor back at the Elmo Mountains of Mirkwood.
"Not this far south," Legolas stated as his gaze drifted to the left and to the dark woods that these beautiful trees hid from view. "In the northern regions, as in Rivendell and Northern Mirkwood, snow falls deep upon the lands and blankets everything beneath a thick mantle of white." Smiling softly at over five centuries worth of memories of winters long past, he slowly forced his eyes away from the east and back south, in the direction of his new home. "I think that the winters of my youth are one of many things that I shall always miss about my father's realm."
Snorting softly, Elrohir curtly shook his head as he urged his horse forward. "Well I, for one, shall not miss it," he stated with a disdainful sniff at the mere thought of the coming winter. "Truly I think that you and your company have done Elladan and I a small favor, for Halbarad and his men complain far too much when the snows begin to fall. It is as though they can no longer see the beauty in nature when the temperatures become too bitter for their human senses."
"Yes, but can the Edain ever truly see nature for what it is?" Thoron asked, his voice light and his eyes never straying from the invisible path that stretched before him - even as the others in the small company immediately turned towards Buffy, waiting for her reaction to the slight.
Sensing their eyes upon her, Buffy merely shrugged her small shoulders as her gaze swept over the peaceful lands that surrounded them. "Personally, I've never been a nature kind of girl myself," she admitted as she took in the wide river, the lands that stretched for miles, and the open skies above. "I was always more about the city than the country, but... it's nice here," she murmured as she absently leaned forward so that the high part of her cheek was pressed against Legolas' warm back. "It's so quiet... no planes, no buses... no people. We don't have places like this in my world anymore."
Resisting the urge to shift beneath what was beginning to become a familiar weight against the straight edge of his back, Legolas frowned as he pondered her words. "I do not think that I would enjoy your world," he admitted as one hand reached forward to run small, soothing circles along Drlum's back.
Smiling once more, Buffy's eyes traced the water as it eddied and swirled around hidden rocks and drooping branches. "You're right," she stated, her words simple as her eyes began following the course of one lone branch as it became caught in the swiftly running current. "My world just wasn't built for elves," she agreed, the rest of the elves' conversation falling to the background as she was reminded of her earlier musings.
Elves in Sunnydale? The idea was laughable, at best. If they managed to survive the idea of breathing air that was soiled with smoke and poisoned gases, of seeing grass and trees restricted to small, appointed plots, or of seeing the wild animals that they respected only within the confines of cages... well, then there was also the matter of the modern wonders of man that she so missed. She imagined that they would be more likely to shoot a car than ride in it. And electricity - or something as everyday as movies or television? If Legolas' reaction to seeing her photograph was any indication, she'd wager that the elves would become either so awed or fearful of the 'sorcery' needed to bring pictures to life that the end result would most likely be something either extremely comical, complicated, or frustrating for all parties involved... not to mention potentially hazardous to whatever modern marvel to which they were introduced. If she thought that she had it bad, being thrust into Middle-earth as she had been, she couldn't even imagine how much more difficult it would have been had it been one of her elven companions that was dropped into her world. Unless it was Thoron, of course, for that just promised all kinds of devious ways to make the prissy elf-
"Damn," Buffy muttered as she sat upright, her eyes darting back to the thick copse of trees that continued to line their path to the left, her earlier tranquility disappearing beneath an invisible cold wave.
"What is it?" Legolas demanded as he instantly tightened his legs around the horse's sides, silently bidding Drlum to stop amongst the swaying grasses. Turning, lithe body tensed upon his mount, he followed Buffy's gaze to the beautiful trees, idly noting that while the twins looked to them in confusion, both Mirdan and even Thoron trusted Buffy's intuitions enough that both were poised for action. "What do you sense?"
"Something not of the good," Buffy returned, her voice quiet as she slid from the horse's tall back, one hand reaching over her shoulder to pull her long sword from its sheath. In moments Legolas, Mirdan, and Thoron dismounted, their weapons drawn as they, too, looked uneasily at the bright wood.
"I sense nothing," Elrohir stated with a puzzled frown as he looked to his twin for confirmation. "Besides, it is still daylight and we draw upon the borders of Lothlrien. There can be no darkness that gathers that we would not-"
"Not orcs," Buffy cut in, her senses stretched to their limits as she tried to puzzle out this new evil. Just as vampires felt different to her than other demons, this new darkness was a separate element from the feeling of orcs - something that she had never before sensed. It felt malevolent, dark, and... vigilant. "We're being watched," she stated, her eyes narrowing as the fine hairs on the back of her neck began to tingle. "We're being hunted," she corrected as the darkness began to advance.
"Something evil comes this way," Legolas announced, his words clipped as his body stiffened in response to the trees' lilting warnings of the darkness that now, undeniably approached their small group.
"Wargs!" Elladan cried out, almost simultaneously with his twin as his senses, long-honed to fighting the darkness that plagued the Misty Mountains, finally alerted him to the darkness that had been invisible to all but Buffy. Gray eyes growing wide in wonder, he glanced briefly at the small blonde as he and his brother slid from their horses and urged them to take cover where they may, joining the other mounts as they hurried to safety. Warg battles were not places for horses, no matter who had reared the brave mounts.
With the horses gone and nothing but the river at their back, Elladan lifted his long bow as a pack of slavering Wargs sprang from the trees, their flight impeded by the hail of arrows that were loosed by the five elves that stood in a line before the banks of the Anduin. As though moving in a dream, the eldest son of Elrond released arrow after arrow from his bow, piercing thick animal hide and shedding blood upon the grassy bank. Yet even as his arrows ran low and his hand moved to the sword at his hip, his thoughts remained fixed upon the small blonde that danced and weaved amongst the evil creatures of Mordor. Not only had Buffy sensed the approaching darkness before either him or his twin, but Legolas and the others seemed to trust this sense of hers implicitly as they waited for no other confirmation before they drew their weapons. This fact alone added such credence to Buffy's abilities that he once more found his mind drifting back to Buffy's explanations of her enhanced powers and abilities. Her speed in healing injury was a feat that he had witnessed firsthand, but to see her senses so tuned to darkness, and to see the way that she now moved amongst the carnage, her heavy sword easily cutting through flank and flesh, driving to pierce heart and cleave head from body... it opened a whole new world to an elf that had lived for nearly three thousand years.
"Brother, behind you!"
Torn from his thoughts, Elladan spun on one heel, only to feel a great weight slam against his side as he was thrown roughly to the ground. Crying out in surprise, he felt the air press from his lungs in one pained gasp as claws and heavy limbs bore his weight into the long, thick grasses and to the unyielding earth beneath. Head snapping against the hard ground, pain bursting from his temple, he felt his limbs twist beneath him as a wave of hot, putrid breath raked over the back of his exposed neck, filling his starving lungs with choking fumes. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. Everything was happening too fast, and at the same time, it was as though every second crawled by as he waited for the wide jaws to snap around his neck, piercing flesh and snapping bone, and thereby sending him to the Halls of Mandos before he had a chance to regret not being able to say goodbye to his brother or sister, to Estel or Legolas, to Halbarad and his Rangers-
Yet the final blow never came as the cries of his companions melted away beneath the impossible weight that allowed no breath to return to his starved body. Idly, he thought he felt a warm, sticky wetness slicken his skin and trickle through his thick tresses, weighing down cloth and pooling beneath him - but even that could have been a passing imagining as darkness began to creep around the edges of his vision. His breath had been stolen from him and his increasingly scattered thoughts screamed that with such a weight pressing upon his back, he had no way to regain what had been taken. His cheek was pressed against the ground, the torn and bent grasses broken open and releasing their sharp tang. His eyes were open, he thought, yet the green was fading, darkening, and blurring into a gray mass. He was going to pass out, and if he did, he didn't know if he'd ever again-
The weight shifted and then disappeared altogether, air rushing into his oxygen-starved body. Breath wheezing between parted lips, his lungs aching and head pounding, Elladan felt a small, warm hand on his shoulder as he was gently turned, the broken blades of grass sliding past until the clear, unblemished blue sky filled his vision as though a heavenly dream - a dreamscape that was interrupted as a small, tanned face popped above him, filling his vision with concerned green eyes and a veil of blonde locks that tickled his prickling features.
"You alright? Elladan? Hey, how many fingers am I holding up?"
"Wh- Buffy?" Elladan whispered as three slender fingers were shoved before his face. Groaning, Elladan batted the hand away as he struggled to push himself up, feeling the young woman's small arms guide him into a sitting position as his eyes darted around him - and recoiled at the large warg that was lying in an unmoving heap beside him, covered in blood.
"Sorry about that," Buffy apologized as she slowly released her hold on the dazed elf. "They're heavy buggers, aren't they?" she asked as she turned to retrieve her sword from the warg's side as she paused to inspect the massive creature. It looked like some sort of spinach-fed hyena - only three times the size of those that were in the Lion King. Yeah, she was pretty sure that Simba would have bought a one-way ticket to the great Kitty Heaven in the sky if he would have tried to take on one of these guys - especially considering the eerie intelligence that glimmered in their dark eyes. They certainly weren't ordinary predators as they seemed bred for this kind of thing. Almost like the hell hounds at prom, but with an IQ of a devious vampire, and not a brainwashed idiot. "Anyway, sorry you got smushed. Another kitty wanted to join the two that already wanted to have Mirdan for lunch, and I sort of got caught up in the moment.... uh, you are okay, right?" she asked, pausing in her rambling as the elf looked at her, as though trying to detangle her words. "Ell-"
"Buf-"
Twirling as she brought her sword around in a tight arc, Buffy felt the blade dig through thick, short fur and tear into the muscle beneath until it struck bone and slid along the smooth groove. Staggering as the Warg's momentum carried them back a few steps, Buffy felt the grassy bank disappear beneath her stumbling feet as she and the massive beast fell back into the freezing waters of the Anduin, the cold river robbing her of her breath as the heavy creature pushed her beneath the surface until her back rebounded lightly on the sandy bottom. Eyes snapping open, her hair captured by the river's strong currents, Buffy looked through the bloodied water to see the sun shining a few feet above her as she used the river's natural buoyancy to slide from beneath the dead weight and towards the surface.
Coughing as thick rivulets of water poured down her forehead and cheeks, Buffy used one hand to brush her heavy tangles from her face as she lifted her eyes to glare at the dark-haired elf that crouched on the river's bank before her.
"Buffy, are you well?" Elladan demanded, his eyes darting between the petite woman and the stinking warg carcass that lay partly submerged beside her.
"I'm fine," Buffy grumbled as she staggered to her feet, grimacing as the wet leather constricted her movements and tightened around her shivering frame. "Just wet and... clean," she amended as she finally got a good look at the lean elf that continued to watch her with concerned eyes. While she may have been soaked to the bone, at least she wasn't covered in Warg blood. Elladan, on the other hand, looked as though he had bathed in it. "Not to be rude or anything, but you may want to think about joining me and my friend," she stated as she indicated first the dead warg beside her, and then the blood that soaked his gray tunic and caused his dark brown hair to become a tangled, gory mess.
"Elladan, are you... oh my," Elrohir murmured, his words forgotten as he faltered beside the river's bank, his incredulous gray eyes widening at the sight of his disheveled twin. "What in the name of Eru has happened to you?" he demanded as his lips began to twitch.
"I-"
"Is everyone - aie! What is that most foul stench?" Legolas gasped as he stepped beside Elrohir, his eyes twinkling as they darted between Elladan's reddening face and Buffy's waterlogged form. "And Buffy, surely one bath a day is more than sufficient to cleanse the dirt of travel from your body!"
"Nay, my Lord," Mirdan corrected as he joined the line of hecklers, smiling unashamedly at the duo. "She partakes in the river's refreshing bounty not to cleanse herself, but rather to allow distance between herself and the unfortunate stench of the one that she rescued."
"Or mayhap just to offer example of how best to rid Lord Elladan of his most befouled state," Thoron suggested, the barest hint of a smile creasing his serious expression.
Rolling his eyes good naturedly, Elladan took the teasing in stride as he bent to undo the fastenings of his boots. "Laugh all you want, my friends, but be thankful that you were not the one who almost had his life smothered beneath the dead carcass of this Morgul beast.
"Aye, and what a fitting end it would have been for a son of Elrond," Legolas agreed as the elder twin waded out into the swiftly moving currents of the Anduin, careful to remain upstream from the warg body and the blood that continued to dilute in the clear waters. "Forever locked in an embrace with-" he began, his teasing words halted by a startled yelp as Buffy, who had been carefully stepping out of the river and upon the muddy bank beside him, slipped on the wet grass and, pin wheeling her arms to each side, grabbed the only thing she could reach, and thereby pulled them both into the water.
Laughing, Elladan watched as the elf prince struggled to untangle his long limbs from Buffy's as both flailed in the shallow water. "A fitting end, indeed," he remarked coyly as he splashed water upon the half-submerged pair.
"Ha, ha, ha," Buffy grumbled as she once more struggled to free herself from the heavy weight of another. "I'm glad that you're all finding this oh-so-amusing," she stated as she tried rather unsuccessfully to bend her limbs around her constricting leather garments, "but how about a little bit of sympathy for the only one who is affected by the freezing water and who's going to get hypothermia, not to mention pneumonia, if I don't get some help getting out of here!"
"Of course, my Lady," Elladan quickly assured as he waded closer to the pair, his eyes dancing as Legolas visibly struggled with the cloak that was twisting around his slender legs. "Please forgive our rudeness and allow me to assist you," he offered gallantly as he bent towards her, his hand reaching for her own as he checked his hip to the right, sending Legolas crashing into the water once more.
Rolling her eyes as Legolas went under, thereby sending yet another freezing wave crashing over her, Buffy accepted the slender hand and allowed the tall elf to pull her to her feet. Turning, she was then pushed towards the river's bank where Mirdan was already waiting to help her from the water, Elrohir standing ready with the blanket they had secured for her back in Rhosgobel. "Perfect balance my ass," she grumbled, shooting both Legolas and Elladan a final dark glare as she found herself wrapped in the thick, warm blanket, Elrohir's steady hands guiding her back to the spot where the horses patiently waited, having returned upon the battle's rather wet conclusion. "Not my fault the overgrown, evil hyenas wanted to eat Elladan," she added, pausing to turn her glare on one of the many dead Wargs that littered the ground around them.
"Speaking of which, since when do the Wargs travel so freely in these lands?" the younger twin asked as he turned back to where Thoron was trying to coax his lord from the Anduin, even as Legolas and Elladan continued to wrestle in the shallow waters.
"Never, as to my knowledge," the advisor sighed as he finally gave up, deciding that the task was fruitless - even as Mirdan somehow got pulled into the water and the childish squabble. Shaking his head, he stepped away from the water before he, too, could be somehow involved and instead returned to where Buffy was rummaging through the small bag that had been given to her, turning aside blankets in search of the clothes that Legolas had lent her in Rhosgobel. "Then again," he continued, his eyes turning away from the waterlogged girl and to the East, the trees continuing to hide the forests of his homeland, "if I do not miss my mark, I believe that Dol Guldur can be found southeast of this small copse in the woods of Mirkwood. You know as well as I that darkness has long held sway in these parts. Perhaps we offered a target that they could not refuse."
"A company of five elves, and so near the borders of Lothlrien?" Elrohir returned, his voice doubtful as he followed the advisor's gaze. "Despite their foul nature, I cannot deny the intelligence that can be found in these beasts of Sauron. Only in the most fell of winters, starved and with no other options, would a pack of Wargs dare attack such a group - and never this close to Lothlrien's borders, even if the wood does now lay empty. Nay, I believe there is another reason behind such an attack."
"Like what?" Buffy asked as she pulled the long leggings and over-large shirt from the small leather bag that Drlum carried.
"I know not," Elrohir sighed, his features troubled, "but I do know this: something is waking the evil that still hides in these lands. Something is driving the fell beasts and servants of Sauron from their dark caves and giving them courage - causing them to flee - and whatever it be, I know only that it cannot speak well for all that is good in this world."
Pale features pulled tight and narrow, as though etched into stone, Vashnak watched as the three large orcs shifted warily before him. "I need a small group to join with me in my travels to the south," he stated, his voice hard and cold - a voice that brooked no argument in these orcs that once would have been his commanders. Now they were naught but a lower life form - a tool to be forged and brandished against their enemies.
"As you command it," Gundug replied, his voice suitably reverent as he bowed his misshapen head, long, black matted hair falling around a dark face that was scarred from many years of hard battle. "And the others?"
"Shall be led on to meet with the rest of our kin at the sanctuary," Vashnak stated, his eyes narrowing as he turned from the subservient creatures to look out from the high balcony upon the tower of Dol Guldur. The dark woods stretched a small ways, before the open lands to the west created a void before the edges of the hated forest of Lothlrien, which stood before the great Misty Mountains. The sun had set hours ago, casting the world into a deep, moonlit night and he knew that the party he had been tracking was out there, most likely camped right alongside the eerie wood. By now he was familiar with their routine and confident in their unchanging route. They would continue south until their party met with the Great West Road that would lead them to Gondor, and though they traveled at a steady pace, the servants of Sauron would continue to hinder their way and give him and his companions time enough to reach their intended destination.
"Be prepared," he stated, his voice hard as he imagined the small group, relaxed and merry beside their roaring fire. "We will meet with you within two weeks' time. And then the true work shall begin."
Author's Note: The Elvish hymn at the beginning of the chapter was taken from the Lord of the Rings trilogy, and is translated as follows: O Elbereth Starkindler, white-glittering, sparkling like jewels, the glory of the starry host slants down. Having gazed far away from the tree-woven lands of Middle-earth, to thee, Everwhite, I will sing, on this side of the Sea, here on this side of the Ocean.