DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters in this story. They belong to Joss Whedon, J.R.R. Tolkien, and their other respective owners.

A/N ABOUT THIS STORY: As you can tell, I've taken several scenes directly from Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Lord of the Rings, word-for-word in the dialogue. This is not to rip off any of the real writers because I respect their work and I am not a plagiarist. This is an artistic ploy to put the reader in the mindset of where they are and is essential to the story. The Buffy episodes used were episodes (6.1-2) "Bargaining, 1 and 2" written by Marti Noxon & David Fury, (7.17) "Lies My Parents Told Me" written by David Fury & Drew Goddard, (7.18) "Dirty Girls" written by Drew Goddard, (7.19) "Empty Places" written by Drew Z. Greenberg, (7.20) "Touched" written by Rebecca Rand Kirshner, (7.21) "End of Days" written by Jane Espenson & Doug Petrie and (7.22) "Chosen" written by Joss Whedon. The Angel episode used was "Orpheus" written by Mere Smith. The movies used are, of course, Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring and Lord of the Rings: Return of the King, written by Frances Walsh, Philippa Boyens and Peter Jackson, based on the books by J.R.R. Tolkien (if you didn't know that, you just suck).

12. Scythe:

Faith lay back beneath the covers of Buffy's bed as Willow and Xander tucked her in while the makeshift ER raged on beneath them downstairs. Aragorn walked into the room with a bowl that contained a greenish paste. "What's that?" Willow asked as Aragorn sat down beside Faith.

"Herbs from Lothlórien," he explained. "Tremendous healing power. I've already tended to the wounds of the other Potentials; I figured you could use the rest."

"Nurse Aragorn saves the day," Xander smiled, as Buffy walked into the room, still carrying the Scythe.

"How're you feeling, Faith?" she asked.

"Like a bomb went off twelve feet away from me," she answered tiredly. "Lucky for me, King Arthur here went in for the save. I would've been toast. The kind you have to identify with dental records." Her eyes closed for a second, then opened with extreme weight on her eyelids. "I think I could use a little shut-eye."

"That's fine," Buffy replied, then turned to Xander, Willow and Aragorn. "Come on, guys. We've got work to do."

Buffy, Giles, Willow and the Fellowship was gathered inside of Willow's room while Willow typed away at the computer and Buffy held the weapon for all to see. "I think it's maybe some kind of scythe," Buffy explained. "The only thing I know for sure is it made Caleb back off pretty fast."

Willow grinned, "So it's true. Scythe matters." She let out a playful giggle as she nudged Giles. He looked away from her and rolled his eyes.

"I don't get it," Pippin announced, with a baffled expression.

"Scythe?" Willow explained. "Like size—"

"Okay… another time," Buffy quickly cut in as Willow hushed up.

"And ignoring that comment," Giles replied, "I must say this weapon is purely ingenious.

"Kills strong bodies three ways," Buffy grinned.

"You… feel something when you hold it?" Aragorn asked.

"Yeah," Buffy replied. "Something really strong. I knew it belonged to me. I felt that, too."

"In addition to it being ancient," Giles declared as he held the Scythe, "it's clearly mystical."

"How do you know that?" Frodo asked.

"Well, look at it," Buffy answered. "It's all shiny."

"Maybe it's a true weapon of the Slayer?" Legolas suggested.

"How did something like this exist without our knowledge of it?" Giles asked, baffled as he gazed down at it.

"That's the thing about us good guys," Buffy replied. "We need to work on our communication skills."

Aragorn reverently took the weapon from Giles and held it in his hands. "Such a marvelous object… made with such grace and careful attention to detail. Every edge, every curve made perfect by some… heavenly fire." He shook his head and added, "This is no mere weapon. This is something much more."

"The First's guys really wanted it out of that stone," Buffy replied. "So, Aragorn's right. It is important. We need to figure out what it is and what it's for. And we need to move fast. The end is coming. Really, this time. Sooner than... sooner."

"And we'll remain at your side until the very end, my lass!" Gimli grinned wide.

"Which is noble," Giles said, removing his glasses, "but probably not wise." Buffy and the others turned to him with an inquisitive look. "When Buffy and the others ventured into Middle Earth, they contributed to your journey. But they were not present at the final battle. If this truly is the end, then the consequence having champions of another dimension fighting the final fight… could be catastrophic at best."

"What are you saying, that we might change the future?" Buffy asked, hearing the same old tune.

"We might already have," Giles replied. "And if that's the case, then we haven't even begun to feel the repercussions of that."

Buffy stared at him in silence for a few moments as she remembered her strange experience while fighting Caleb in the wine cellar, and Willow glanced nervously from Buffy to Giles to the Fellowship and back again. "Then we'd better get started," Buffy answered. "Let's kill this before we get to the end."

"We'll get to work immediately," Giles responded.

"We'll find out everything there is to know," Willow agreed.

"Good," Buffy answered. "Because right now this thing's our best hope."

"Oh!" Pippin exclaimed with a proud grin. "Size matters!" His face then contorted with deeper revelation. "Oohhh…"

"You have come here for the purpose of another," Galadriel declared as she stood in the gardens of Lothlórien. Water poured down around her into the stream that surrounded the garden as the heavenly voices of elves who sang lamenting hymns and vocal prayers for the safe return of the King of Gondor and the Fellowship. "Yet in your heart, you also seek comfort for yourself."

Arwen stood behind her and looked away, "I seek not to comfort myself. I shall bring the one for whom I should really have pity—"

"I did not say that it was indecent of you to despair," Galadriel answered. "It is the love of your life that risks his own so that others may live."

"He is a Champion first and my husband second," Arwen answered, looking away from her. "His duty to honor is more than his duty to his heart. That is the way it should be."

"And what of your heart? What of its pain?" Galadriel asked.

"It means nothing!" Arwen emotionally snapped, raising her voice to an echo. Silence blanketed them again and all that could be heard was the trickling of the water and the distant angelic voices. "I knew that this would come," Arwen breathed sadly. "I knew that choosing the path that I did would lead me to pain and despair. Yet why… why am I so stunned into submission? Why am I so very afraid of what I knew was coming for me all along?"

"You knew there would be a price to pay," she answered slowly. "But not so soon. All you have is time… until your time is up."

"I remember when I believed that the thought of him not returning from Mordor alone would kill me," Arwen breathed as tears rolled down her cheeks. "I know I have already been given so much. I am terrified to ask once again for his return."

Galadriel looked up and gazed forward into the glittering trees of Lorien. "Do you believe that he is capable of accomplishing anything he believes in?" she asked.

Arwen turned to her with a curious, but knowing expression. "Yes," she replied. "More than anything, I do."

"Then have not despair," Galadriel replied. "For he believes that the path he has chosen will lead him home." Another tear rolled down Arwen's cheek as a smile brightened her beautiful face.

"Now," Galadriel answered. "Bring the Halfling forth."

"Why did you let her go?" Caleb shouted as he threw a barrel across the wine cellar, smashing it to pieces. Buffy/The First stood by, gazing at the damage, then turned back to watch him pace and huff with anger. "You know I can take her in a fight!"

The First rolled its eyes and sighed, "We'll get her, calm down."

"I am calm!" Caleb snapped. "Just wait 'til I get angry."

"Face it, Caleb," The First shrugged. "It belongs to her. It's what she needs to become powerful. Powerful enough to be worthy when we smash her down. But not right now. Right now, she's powerful. She is power. You're just weak."

"Now, I'm gettin' less calm," he retorted, spinning around towards it.

"You just haven't been as strong…" The First hinted. "Not since we… merged."

Caleb gazed at it in silence as Buffy's form pouted and grinned. "Maybe you're right," he replied.

"I know I'm right," The First declared. "Always." It faced Caleb, raised its arms and tilted its head back towards the sky, while Caleb mimicked the same gesture. Seconds later, a massive golden, translucent, twelve-fingered beast with horns and red glowing eyes sprang forth from the First's chest and consumed Caleb, entering his body through his chest. Caleb grunted and twitched as he was possessed with the power of the First and he fell to his knees, trembling.

"See?" the First grinned. "Isn't that better?" It gazed down at Caleb trembling, crouched figure with pride. "And now, there's something you need to do for me." He looked up at it with his eyes completely blacked-out. Two Bringers arrived carrying a bucket and set it down next to them, then scattered off into the shadows again.

"Dip your hand in the paint," the First ordered. Without confrontation, Caleb dipped his hand in the white paint and stood up when it told him to. The First turned its head to the darkness as a Turok-Han appeared from the shadows, but this one was at least three feet larger and 200 pounds bigger than any other of its size. It sounded out, not with a hiss, but with a low growl and kneeled eye-level before the First, so it could look into the Turok-Han's grey, reptilian eyes.

"What for?" Caleb asked, in a deep, altered voice.

"You'll see," it smiled. Caleb walked up to the Turok-Han and placed his hand on its head, leaving a white handprint across its face. "You'll see."

Rosie Gamgee slowly and nervously walked through the darkened pathway, illuminated by silver moonlight. She followed the stream and slowly tackled each of the descending stairs down into the garden where Galadriel stood.

Once Galadriel came into her sight, she stopped and turned around, flashing a concerned look to Arwen, who stood at the top of the stairs. Arwen simply nodded and gestured her to keep moving. The hobbit woman turned around once more and stepped down the rest of the stairs until she came to the bottom.

Rosie still was not used to seeing so many tall people; this elf sorcereress seemed to stand taller than any she'd ever seen before. Galadriel had her back turned to Rosie as she faced the waterfall with an expression of knowing wonder.

"He-Hello," Rosie nervously began. "I… I was told that you could help me."

"And you have many questions," she slowly replied with a voice both deep and stately. "However, both you and your child truly ask only one."

Rosie reached down at touched her pregnant belly with astonishment, but then she found an understanding and loosened up. "I… understand why he's gone," Rosie began humbly. "I understand his reasons, I do. Really, I do."

Arwen quietly listened from the top of the stairs as she clutched a mossy rock and leaned in to the sound below. "I mean," she explained, "he's a hero. And he's got to keep his word to Buffy, but more importantly to Frodo. He made a promise face-to-face that he would stick by his side no matter what happened. My Sam's a man of his word."

"That he is," Galadriel replied. "But you already know this. The question that troubles you so is of the future. His future."

Rosie bit her lip, looked down and then asked, "I-I need to know, Miss. I mean, with his baby comin' and all… I need to know if he'll ever see his child when it comes." Tears stung her little eyes as she asked, "Will he ever be coming back?"

"There is a plant," Galadriel declared suddenly. "A flower, red as the setting sun. So beautiful that to look at it makes your heart cry out."

"I know what you're talkin' about!" Rosie smiled. "Th-That's the flower that Sam planted for the baby and me before he left. He put it in the flower box outside my window so that whenever I wake up it'll be lookin' at me, and-and I'll look at it and think of him and know he's thinkin' of me, too."

"A gift of love," Galadriel replied, turning around to face the beautiful Halfling woman with an expression of warmth. "I cannot tell you what is to come. The people involved will make that choice for themselves. But I can assure you, however long that plant lives, so lives your husband."

Faith held the Scythe in both of her hands as she lay in Buffy's bed with her eyes closed. "You feel it, too, don't you?" Buffy asked, standing over her bed.

"Damn," Faith replied, feeling the power in her fingertips. "And, damn, that's something."

"I know," Buffy answered as she stood with her arms crossed next to the bed.

"It's old," Faith nodded, staring at the Scythe. "It's strong, and it feels like… like it's mine." Her smile faded as she looked up at Buffy, who silently stared at her. Faith sighed and handed the Scythe back to her, "Guess that means it's yours."

Buffy began with sympathy, "It belongs to the Slayer."

She picked up the Scythe as Faith replied, "The Slayer in charge. The one that makes all the big choices around here. Which, I'm guessing, is you again."

Buffy raised her eyebrows and sat tiredly down next to Faith, "I… I honestly don't know. Does it matter?"

"Never did to me," Faith shrugged. "Someone's gotta lead; let's vote for Chao-Ahn. It's harder to lead people into a death trap if you don't speak English."

"It wasn't your fault. Same thing could've happened to me."

"Yeah, but—"

"People die," Buffy affirmed. "You lead them into battle, they're gonna die. It doesn't matter how smart you are, or how ready you are. That's war. Stupid, needless death. There's no choice in it at all. It's gonna happen."

"What if there was?" Faith said as she stared out into the darkness. "What if you could control whether or not people died? Make through a battle without death?"

"Well, if you could," Buffy replied. "I think we've already failed."

"I've always thought I've wanted what you had," she said sadly. "To be Faith the Vampire Slayer. To be the Chosen One. To live your life with your buddies. But then, there I was. I was the leader and… I've never felt so alone in my entire life."

"Yeah," Buffy simply answered, re-crossing her arms.

"And that's you," Faith understood, "everyday, isn't it?"

"I love my friends," Buffy began, "but the truth is… they can't understand. No human, no witch, no hobbit can really see what we've seen. They can't make the decisions we've made. I mean, I deal. What can I do? But it's still a burden that we share alone."

"And no one else can feel it," Faith nodded. She looked up at Buffy. "So, let me get this straight," she asked, "when you, you know, died, you were actually in another dimension? What's it called, Middle Earth?"

"Yep," she sighed.

"How long?"

"A little over two years."

"You didn't have to be the Slayer, did you?"

"No." Buffy remembered her life in Middle Earth with a hint of pain. "I didn't have to be anybody," she said. "Just Buffy. And I was among family… so that was more than enough."

"Must have been nice," Faith frowned. "So that's why your family's come back to get you? To… save you?"

Buffy turned to her with surprise. "How did you know?"

"You kidding? Not really that hard to tell." Buffy turned back to the floor and stared down at it in contemplation. "So…" Faith asked, "you going back?"

"No," Buffy shook her head and softly answered.

"You're not?" Faith replied. "Not that I'm calling you a deserter or anything, but it's just… why not?" Buffy silently thought about the answer to that question, but Faith, just by looking at her face, could already tell what the answer was.

Spike opened the door to the Summers' home and entered a darkened foyer where sleeping bodies were scattered throughout. He looked up the stairs to see Buffy walking down in her heeled boots carrying the Scythe in one hand. "Honey," he scoffed, "you're home."

"Yeah," she frowned in reply.

"And you fulfilled your mission," he answered. "Found your Holy Grail. Or your Holy Hand Grenade or whatever the hell that is."

"Right now we're going with Scythe," she answered. "Like it?"

"Well, pointy, sharp and wooden is not exactly my style," Spike shrugged. "But it goes quite nicely with your outfit." She looked back down at it with a smile. "So, did you give the traitors a good walloping, a beat-down, something with accentuation?"

"No. Haven't said a word about it."

"Really?" he said, surprised.

"I think you guys made it clear: We don't have time for me to feel sorry for myself," she replied. "It happened. We need to move on."

"Move on," Spike repeated. "Here I thought you'd ditch a guy to sock it to the dissenters in the line."

"Yeah," she replied, embarrassed. "Sorry about that." She turned and headed for the kitchen.

"Fine, all's forgiven," Spike shrugged easily. "And now you're off again. Big secret mission. Solo mission, of course."

"It is," Buffy replied. "I mean, it isn't. Well, it is a secret. Or, no it's not. It's to find out the secret behind the Scythe. We don't know anything about it. Giles and Willow did a little hunting and searching, but… the only thing they could come up with is something about a tomb on deconsecrated ground. Somewhere here in Sunnydale."

"Well, that's a needle in Kansas," Spike scoffed. "That's the thing the good reverend didn't want you to find?"

"It is. I'm going to find out why."

"Good," he shrugged. "Guess you don't need my help."

"Guess not."

"And last night? That was just an accident. A bit of cold comfort from the undead. Never happened."

"Right."

"So I'll be on my way."

"Good."

"See you 'round."

"Sure." He turned and headed for the kitchen door to the side yard as Buffy looked up at blatantly declared, "You're a dope."

"What?" Spike said, turning towards her.

"You're a dope!" she accused as she walked up to him. "And you're stupid… and a-an idiot!"

"Have you lost your mind?" he asked, shaking his head.

"I didn't think we would win this war," Buffy revealed. "For the first time ever, I lost my hope. I've never lost hope in us… or myself, for that matter. Last night I lost both. Until you and the others came along."

Spike looked away from her, breaking eye-contact as she whispered to him, "Last night, when you held me… I believed in myself again. Because you believed in me. Now, I don't know how you want to… play it off, but—"

"I'm terrified," Spike shook his head and replied.

Buffy stopped immediately. "Of what?"

"Last night was…" he let the words fade away, loosing his courage as he looked into her green eyes. "I…" He sighed and finished, "It was the best night of my life." Buffy stared at him and exhaled slowly hearing his words. "You'd better not make fun of me," he threatened, "because I couldn't take it. I don't know what it means to you—"

"I think I just told you what it means to me," Buffy replied.

"I hear you say it, but…" He sighed again and continued, "I've lived for sodding ever, Buffy. I've done everything. I've done things with you I can't spell, but… I've never… been close. To anyone, least of all you. All I did was hold you, watch you sleep and… it was the best night of my life."

"You don't have to be afraid," she shook her head.

He gazed at her with wonder, "We're you there with me?"

"I was," she nodded.

"What does that mean?"

She thought for a few moments, and then replied, "Does it have to mean anything?"

"No," Spike shook his head, a little defeated. "It doesn't have to mean anything." He reached for the doorknob and opened the door, "We'll go be heroes." She watched him go, forcing a smile and a nod. She stood alone in the kitchen as the door slammed, thinking more about last night and her entire relationship with Spike, good and bad. It led her here. It led her to this. It was bad, but… was it worth it?

Buffy gave a final glance behind her to see the entire Fellowship gazing back at her with intrigue. "You know we're going with you, right?" Gimli declared.

"Yeah," she sighed. "Figured."