Chapter 3 The Fellowship

Legolas made his way over the path leading to the Golden Wood using his ears and other senses. His eyes were shut; he did not want to open them and look upon the sun happily shining when one he loved had been taken away so suddenly. Still, he could feel the heat on his face, and longed for the cool, deep shadows of Lothlorien. Had Aragorn not been following closely behind him, he would have halted and grieved for days. The elf knew his friend was hurting inwardly just as badly for the loss of Gandalf, and was grateful for the strength he was giving to the rest of the Fellowship.

Legolas heard a movement in the trees next to him and reluctantly opened an eye. There was something following them.

"I have the eyes of a hawk," Gimli boasted, "And the ears of a fox!" No sooner had the words left his lips did the dwarf stumbled over a large object in his path and fell forward onto his face.

"And apparently, the grace of an oliphaunt!" an icy voice said. "Lower your weapons." A tall blonde elf stepped through a gap in the trees onto the dirt road. A dozen more elves entered the path with raised bows, arrows at the ready. Legolas recognized them as Galadriel's kin. The leader elf opened his mouth to mock the dwarf further, but was interrupted by a painful groan.

Willow frowned as she lifted her head. She rubbed her eyes. Her mouth was sticky- as if she had woken up after sleeping in for too long. And there was dirt under her- that wasn't what she remembered. There had been grass below her feet before. This dirt, though, felt…different. The magic coming from it wasn't the same as before. It was as if the earth had become kinder. Not gentle or weak, but powerfully good. It no longer had the 'teeth' she had felt in England. The earth here had not yet been fully corrupted.

Her logical brain soon remembered what the Oracles had said. Those vague, mean, pretty Oracles. "Your task on this earth has ended". So, it appeared there was another earth for her now. Oh yes, there was definitely going to be some Angel-hurtage in her future. But then she remembered there probably wouldn't be an Angel in her future. She had a brief moment of loneliness- she had no idea where she was, or what the Powers wanted her to do. That feeling was set aside for panic when her sleepy mind told her there were voices near by- voices that were coming closer!

As the witch began to pull herself up, an extremely heavy and sharp Something smacked into her. A Something that fell on her and was not getting off any time soon. She tried to push it off her, and did so with a loud groan. The Something seemed to take a hint and scrambled to its feet. The feet were encased in worn-out brown leather boots. Willow decided now would be a good time to sit up and figure out where she was.

Looking around, Willow saw the grass, trees, and a blue sky. She was going to take a guess and say 'forest'. Except, there were men standing around her, some quite strange looking, like the short bearded man who looked like he belonged in a fairy tale. She couldn't remember Sunnydale forests having too many of those in them. Twisting her upper body sideways, even more men entered her field of vision. Or, not men. They were the size of children, but with older bodies and faces. Each looked as if they could use a nice long bath and a fashion update. She may not be Cordelia, but Willow was pretty sure leather jerkins went out a few centuries ago.

Willow rationalized that the kid-folk might be the better to speak to, rather than the stern pretty-haired guys. She stood up, the movement causing the bowmen to aim their arrows towards her. Immediately freezing, Willow ventured to give a little wave, showing she was weaponless. "Hi. I didn't mean to interrupt, but I was hoping you could help me?" she ended her query with a tentative smile.

For a few seconds she debated whether to try French- after all, she wasn't on Star Trek, and what were the chances that these people spoke her English? Luckily, one of the more normal looking men- if not a little scruffier than she was used to- broke the silence. "I am sorry, Miss, but I am afraid we have no help to give. Perhaps you could ask these hospitable elves, at whose mercy we are." His voice was tinged with sarcasm. Not towards her, she realized; his blue-eyed gaze had been much too kind- if a bit wary. But she saw the way he frowned towards the ones with the weapons.

Willow's head sharply turned to the blonde men once again, wincing as it sent tendrils of pain up her back. Elves? She had never pictured them to be so tall and beautiful. And, she wondered at the absence of the females. Probably too delicate to wield a bow, she thought with an indignant frown. Well, at least she had a little more of an idea of the world she was in. It also began to explain the magical energy of the earth, the vortex, and all the leather clothing- but nothing to give her a hint about her mission. She realized the attention was no longer focused on her, but that the two groups were having some kind of silent face-off. Finally, the one she took to be the leader of the elves bristled and said curtly, "We will take you to Galadriel, the Lady of the Wood. She will decide your fate for trespassing. However, the dwarf must be blindfolded."

The dwarf-Willow thought he was the dwarf in question- let out a bark of anger. "Ridiculous! A dwarf has not betrayed an elf in hundreds of years! It is an insult!"
"Gimli is right," an elf spoke from the rear of the group. Willow had assumed he was one of the aggressive elves, but upon examining at him, she realized it was obvious his allegiance was with the others. This elf wore dirty clothing of much less finery. His hair, unlike the first elves, had been braided so that it fell away from of his face, revealing intense blue eyes and high cheekbones. He did carry a bow and quiver, but had lowered it along with his companions. "This display of mistrust is not true to the Lady's ways. Surely all animosity between our kinds is long over!"

"Do not presume to know the lady's mind," Mean Elf snapped. "He will not be allowed to see the path, so that leaves two options. Accept the blindfold, or leave him behind."

"There is a third option," the scruffy man interrupted. "Gimli is one of the Fellowship. Any injustice shall be shared by all of us, for I refuse to let him suffer alone."

"Me too," Willow broke in. The arguing men turned to her in surprise- she was a little surprised herself. Standing out on purpose had never been her trademark, but something in her told her it was better to go along with this "Fellowship" than the band of snooty elves.

She gave the bearded man a smile despite the fact he was the reason her back ached. "What I mean, is, I don't like to see anyone discriminated against because of their differences. Hello, Jewish lesbian witch here!" At their blank stares, she waved her hand dismissively- then realized what she had just said. Willow looked around cautiously- she didn't know how they treated witches or the supernatural in this new world. To cover up, she quickly changed the subject. "Where are we going?" She was surprised to hear two of the midget-men let out laughter. The other two glared at them, and they quieted.

"To Lothlorien, lady," the dwarf said, stepping towards her. It appeared she had made a friend. "Though I wonder if we will ever get there at this pace!"

The odd-looking band was eventually blindfolded and led under the cover of golden-leafed trees. Willow was relieved to find that the elves guided her steps faithfully and she didn't make a fool of herself by tripping. Fifteen minutes passed quickly, with Willow's inquisitive mind taking in every scent, sound, and bump. She heard light footfalls approaching them, and a voice spoke out: "Haldir! The Lady Galadriel says to clear our guests' eyes and bring them to her hall."

There was silence for a moment- then Willow felt her soft blindfold loosen. She took in a sharp breath as her view widened- she had never imagined anything so beautiful; enormous trees were everywhere, and elegant elves walking between them on tall winding staircases. Twilight had fallen and lamps were lit, illuminating the golden leaves above. An elf motioned to one stairway in particular, and Willow noted it was empty. With a much lighter heart, she began to climb it.

Chapter Four: An Introduction to Lothlorien

The climb up the long winding staircase, surprisingly, did not leave Willow as out of breath as she would have guessed. The first ten minutes of the climb was spent talking with Gimli, the dwarf whom she had tripped. After she expressed an interest in all his armor, he had started a stream of conversation that rivaled even her own skill at speaking without pause. Willow learned the names of each of his companions, the Fellowship, and that the little men were known as hobbits. One hobbit, Pippin, kept trying to break into the conversation, but Gimli always cut him off. The dwarf also told her they were in Lothlorien, the Golden Wood. He began a tale of the Witch of the Wood, but at the hostile looks of the elves leading them, and even a glare from Aragorn- Gimli's friend- he fell silent. The armor was weighing him down, he told her, and anyway, "Dwarves aren't made for stair-climbing." He said it as if anything that dwarves were not made for was a thing to be despised, and their conversation was ended for the rest of the trip.

However, the lack of conversation left her mind free to wander- and it was becoming increasingly more worried.

Looking around at the strangely beautiful trees, it became more clear and more shocking that she had no idea where she was, or where she was going. For the first time in Willow's life, she was completely among strangers. That thought hadn't occurred to her when she had gone before the oracles. Sure, she knew she was giving up living with her friends, but now the full meaning of that hit her. Willow decided to take comfort that the others didn't know where they were being lead either. The tall, blondish man- Boromir-, and Gimli were looking at the scenery with highly suspicious faces, as if the golden leaves were about to jump off the trees and strangle them. The dark, scruffy man-Aragorn- however, looked almost at peace- as if it were a homecoming of sorts for him. The small hobbits took everything in with a mix of curiosity and wonder, except for one, Frodo. His bright blue eyes were downcast, uncaring or unaware of the surroundings.

Willow's eyes drifted to the lone elf of the group, and found she could not look away. Legolas, Gimli said his name was, and at the time it had taken a good two minutes to realize the dwarf was still speaking. He was extremely pretty, yet stirred none of the soft, gentle feelings her former female lovers had produced. No, the feeling she got from him was completely- she shook her head at her turn of thoughts and pried her eyes away. Their destination had just come into view.

It was not a room, exactly, but an open platform of smooth wood. Despite having no walls, it seemed private and small. Willow wasn't sure they would all fit, but she realized most of the elves leading them were returning down the staircase. She noticed a movement in front of her, and two figures suddenly appeared, as if they had been brought into focus. Willow let out a gasp- it was the two Oracles! They were wearing different clothing, but their faces and demeanor were the same, nonetheless. Again searching for her companions' reactions, she found much the same. Aragorn and Legolas seemed to be greeting the Oracles like old friends- though none spoke. Gimli, Boromir, and the hobbits looked frightened.

"Welcome," the man spoke. "I am Celeborn, and with Galadreil I rule this wood. Why have you travelers entered our home?" He seemed to be addressing the men, so Willow decided to stay silent. She wasn't sure what to say anyway- she had expected them to know why she was here, and give her an assignment or something. Surely she was there because they had asked?

But the woman interrupted before the travelers could explain. "Nine set out, yet I see only 8," she said in a low voice.

Celeborn gave her a strange look. "There are nine here, lady," he said. Willow straightened up indignantly. That's right, she thought. Why wouldn't they assume she was with the others? Looking at her clothing, however, she could see why Galadriel would think that. While leather and dirt seemed to be the fashion among the travelers, and silky, mesmerizing green fabrics common in Lothlorien, her jeans and t-shirt fit neither style. Although her boots, which she had taken to wearing during their fight with the First, did seem to match the Fellowship's. Even her hair stood out! One hobbit's locks were a rusty-brown, but none of the others came close to being a redhead.

Galadriel shook her head. "No, she is not of them, nor of us. She is our answer." Her eyes lingered on Willow for a few moments, then turned back to the man. "Do you not recall, Celeborn, that Mithrandir was among the Fellowship?" The two looked at each other, and again Willow had the feeling that these two beings were speaking in a place she couldn't hear.

With a frown, Celeborn turned to the Fellowship. "Where is Mithrandir?"
Again, Galadriel answered for the group. "He has fallen into shadow." This time her voice was so soft, Willow had to strain to catch it. It was said with such sorrow that Willow wondered who this Mithrandir was. At the sadness on the group's faces, she guessed he was a friend of theirs too.

"You cannot stay here long," Galadriel said, breaking their silence. "My woods will not hold the enemy off forever. But you may stay for some nights." Then she looked at each person in turn, and Willow was amazed at their reactions. Boromir sweating and looked about to run. Sam looked ready to cry, and even Legolas' expression had changed to wary. Galadriel held Frodo's gaze the longest, then turned to Willow. She heard speech, then realized the blonde woman was speaking in her mind, much like the way she and Buffy had communicated during their last months in Sunnydale.

But it seemed Galadriel did not have much to say. 'Meet me tomorrow night. We must speak openly then.'

Speaking aloud now, Galadriel dismissed them all. "You may rest from your journey tonight," she said. "I am sure you are hungry and in need of a soft bed. My people will show you the way."

It was as if a spell had been broken. Willow was once again aware of the trees around her, as well as her stomach- how long had it been since that breakfast with Buffy? It seemed days! Blonde elves were now returning up the staircase, and she and the group were escorted back to the forest floor below. Willow wondered where she would stay. She was already feeling attached to the group- Gimli's odd mix of friendly aggression, and the hobbits' eagerness to talk. And, the temptation to hang around Legolas some more didn't hurt. She hoped they wouldn't mind her tagging along.

Willow quickened her pace when she heard a hobbit mention dinner. She didn't want to fall behind if they were on their way to food!