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).

14. Destiny:

"I hate this," Buffy declared to her full army. Every potential, every Scooby and every member of the Fellowship was packed into the living room with barely enough room for everyone to see. People stood in the foyer, the hallway, the stairs, and of course, they completely lined the walls. Buffy was left only a little room to walk as she talked among her army the next morning, the sun shining down on them.

"I hate being here," she added, talking directly to her untrusting Potentials. "I hate that you have to be here. I hate that there's evil, that it's growing, and I hate that I was chosen to fight it. I wish – a whole lot of the time – that I hadn't been." She looked over at Kennedy and Rona, "I'm pretty sure a lot of you wish I hadn't been either. But this isn't about wishes. This is about choices. I didn't have one. The choice was made for me, and I get that. I accept it. And I'm not dropping this in front of you and telling you to accept it. I'm asking you to make your own choice."

She paused for a moment and sighed, crossing her arms, "I believe we can beat this evil. Not when it comes, or when its army is raised, but now. Tomorrow morning, we're opening the Seal. We're going down into the Hellmouth and I'm finishing this once and for all."

The Potentials stared at each other anxiously as Buffy continued, looking at all of her friends, "I've got strong warriors on our side: Potentials, witches, sorcerers, charms, amulets; and I'll need them all. But I'll also need you. Every single one of you. I know you're asking yourself, 'What makes this any different than before?' It's true that none of you have the power that Faith and I have. And that's why we're here." With a deep breath, she turned to all of her friends and declared, "So here's the part where you make a choice."

"What if you could have that power," she suggested, "now? Not later. In every generation, one Slayer is chosen… because a bunch of men thousands of years ago made up that rule." Buffy pointed over at Willow, "This woman is more powerful than all of them combined." Willow's face contorted with nerves as the eyes of the group fell upon her. "So I say we change the rule. I say my power, should be our power," Buffy added. "Tomorrow, Willow's going to use the essence of the Scythe to do just that. We're going to change our future. We're going to change our destinies. And from now on, every girl in the world who might be a Slayer will be a Slayer. Those who can have the Power will have the Power. Those who can stand up... will stand up."

She gazed at the young, wide-eyed and amazed girls, "Slayers. All of us. Make your choice. Are you ready to be strong?"

The sun fell over California that night as the Scoobies began what could have been their last night together in Sunnydale – or their last night ever. The gang was separated into different groups and different places: Faith and Wood were at Sunnydale High preparing the stage for tomorrow's battle, Willow and Kennedy were up in Willow's bedroom researching the Scythe, and Dawn, Sam, Merry and Pippin along with a big group of young Potentials were tucked in palettes in Dawn's bedroom listening intently to the Slayer's stories, going back and forth between the hobbits and the Key.

Dawn leaned in close with dramatics in her voice as she whispered in an eerie tone in the darkness, "And then… the Master crept up behind Buffy – she didn't even see him coming – and clutched her neck and bit down, draining her of her blood!"

The Potentials swallowed and held each other's hands with eyes full of anxious worry. "That's nothing!" Pippin exclaimed with a smile. "In my story, Buffy's walking down through the halls of Moria with nothing but a sword in hand. Little does she know that all of underground Moria has become a gigantic tomb crawling with flesh-eating monsters…"

The girls gasped with terror as fearful Vi clutched her pillow, whining, "Don't you have any other stories?"

Merry looked over to her with a warm smile. "Don't be afraid," he said, placing a small hand on her shoulder. "It's Buffy. She always comes through." Sam and Dawn both thought about his reply, nodding their heads in agreement.

At the dining room table, Giles sat with Xander on one side and Aragorn on the other, along with Legolas, Gimli, Amanda and Andrew. Thick books were laid out as Giles gazed intently at the game plan. "I've gotten turned around," Giles declared, pointing at the map. He turned to Aragorn and pointed at the page. "You're here."

"Do I defend this room?" Aragorn asked with an expression of bafflement.

"Of course," Legolas explained, frustrated having to explain the same plan to Aragorn more than once.

Aragorn shook his head, "I don't understand why…"

"It doesn't matter right now," Xander answered. "So, that puts Giles, Legolas and Gimli over here by the door. Demons are around the perimeter."

"So I go through the door," Giles suggested.

"That's a foolish plan," Legolas shook his head.

"Why not?" Gimli asked. "I fear no demon!"

"You go through the door," Andrew said, staring down at a Dungeons & Dragons game book wearing a bright red cloak with the hood up. "You are confronted by Trogdor, the Burninator."

"What?" Aragorn asked, his eyes wide.

"I told you," Legolas answered. "We should have gone around the perimeter—"

"Oh, bugger all!" Giles spat, slamming his fist on the table. "Fight." He grabbed the ten-sided die in his hand and rolled it on the table, squirming at the outcome. Legolas sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Trogdor has wounded you," Andrew announced.

"But what about my bag of illusions?" Giles asked.

"Bag of what?" said a baffled Aragorn.

"Illusions?" Andrew repeated. "Against a Burninator?" He gave a wise chuckle, "Silly, silly British man…"

Amanda placed a card on the table, "I invoke a time flux on Trogdor."

"A what?" asked Aragorn.

Andrew flashed disapproving eyes on her, "Uh, hold up, girlfriend. You can't just—"

"Ninth level sorceress," Amanda gloated, "and I carry the Emerald Chalice. Trogdor is frozen in time. Deal with it."

Aragorn shook his head. "Who? Why…?"

"Well played!" Legolas congratulated.

"Smackdown on red riding hood," Xander smiled with excitement. "This could get ugly!"

"I used to be a highly-respected watcher," Giles sighed, removing his glasses and rubbing his forehead. "Now I'm a wounded dwarf with the mystical strength of a doily."

"I resent that!" Gimli threatened, glaring at Giles.

"Imagine how I feel," Aragorn sighed, dropping his cards on the table in defeat and shaking his head, lost in confusion.

Outside of the Summers' doorway, Frodo Baggins sat by himself on the wooden steps of the porch. The moonlight shined down on him, illuminating his face as a billion stars glittered down at him. Buffy appeared in the doorway behind him and stared down at him curiously, watching his expression of awe and wonder.

"I understand now…" Frodo whispered to her as he continued to stare into the overwhelming, gargantuan abyss. "At first, I couldn't figure out why you wanted to stay in Middle Earth when everything you ever knew and loved was here…" Buffy stayed leaning against the doorframe as she stared down at him in silence with her arms crossed, listening to his revelation. "And then I couldn't quite understand why you didn't try to return."

A good question indeed, because Buffy did know the way back to Middle Earth even though it was a long shot. She had completed Cloutier's trance once, and wondered many lonely days and nights whether or not she could complete it again. The question always lingered in her mind, but what was it that kept her from following through with her actions? Fear? Despair? No, it was none of these things. Buffy had found this answer already in herself the night she stayed alone in the stranger's house after being exiled from her own home.

"You were taken out of this world because it was your time to leave," Frodo said. "A result of a choice you made. But you stayed in Middle Earth because that's what you wanted. It's what you needed. You wanted to leave home because everything in your world that you saw reminded you of the person you were…" He shook his head painfully, his blue eyes weighed down, "Everything that you'd done…"

Buffy all of a sudden was no longer standing on her porch listening to the fascinated, wise hobbit. She was back in Hobbiton, listening to the troubles of an old friend near a fireplace inside of his home one not-so-special night that changed their lives forever. After everything that had happened – everything that was about to happen – there they were again.

"Coming back here must have been so very hard," Frodo shook his head with sympathy in his voice, "at first. You were faced with the reminders of your past again. But time… doesn't stay in one place. Your life changes and starts anew. You left because you had to get away, you came back because you were needed here, and you stayed because… you didn't need to run anymore."

Buffy thought about his answer, his observations matching her own and realized once again that he understood her better than most, and for that she held the deepest empathy for him. She took her weight off of the doorframe and stepped to him, sitting down beside him on the step and gazing up at the stars and the street where she had lived for seven years.

"It's all one… journey," Frodo continued, searching deeper in his own soul. "It stays with you always, but… you grow around it. You grow past it. Time changes you and heals you… and it doesn't end with a goodbye or a grand battle or a war, it… never ends."

"So why is it so complicated?" Buffy asked, shaking her head. "It sounds so simple, but what makes it so hard?"

"Life has many choices," Frodo answered, after some contemplation. "The hardest thing in living is making them." The two sat together on the porch in silence for some time, both of them faced with choices, both afraid of their outcomes. Buffy glanced over to Frodo to see him fixated, his blue eyes taking in the stars as if he had never seen them before. Until tonight, he really hadn't.

Aragorn stood in the kitchen, having given up on Dungeons & Dragons and stared deeply at his own options. A can of beans sat on the countertop staring at him – triumphing in its impenetrability. On the left of the can, there was an object he heard Willow refer to as "a can opener." A trustworthy name, yes, but with wires and switches and buttons, this contraption was clearly deceptive in its nature. In his right hand, there was a dagger. After several minutes of decisive deliberation, he took the can in his left hand and stabbed the top metal with the dagger, prying it open.

Footsteps sounded out behind him as they came to an abrupt stop. Aragorn turned around to see Buffy standing in the doorway as if she had just walked in on someone in the shower.

"Oh," she said, her face nearly pale, "I, uh… I…" She cleared her throat, "I didn't think you'd be here. I'm, um, I'm g-going to get the others… They're a… uh… a few things I have to say—"

"That you would not say to me alone?" Aragorn said, staring back down at his cold food.

Buffy blinked at him, taken off guard. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Aragorn sighed nervously, revealing his own apprehension to her, "I… understand your anxiety, but you don't have to avoid me."

"I wasn't avoiding you," Buffy denied.

"Yes, you are," Aragorn answered firmly, looking up at her. She was stunned again into silence. "Because of what the First said to me earlier…"

Buffy could've turned bright red with embarrassment for him and for that. Mistress, she remembered. It called me his mistress! Those words seared her a bit, knowing Arwen personally.

"Yeah," Buffy cleared her throat, replying quickly but tenderly, "well, what it said wasn't—"

"You're an amazing woman, Buffy," Aragorn suddenly announced as he kept his eyes off of her. He admitted gently, "Perhaps the most amazing I have ever, or will ever meet. And I cannot lie." He swallowed hard, then confessed with shame in his voice, "The truth is… I have desired you. Not with any intent of malice – not because I could possibly contain myself from coming to this point. I could not see it for what it really was. And every time I came close I blinded myself ever further and denied it out of guilt."

Buffy was shaking her head in astonishment. She interrupted him, stopping him for a second, "Aragorn—"

"Don't," he declared seriously, staring up at her with eyes full of emotion. "I've spent every hour thinking about my life," he said. "Thinking about you. Thinking about Arwen. I'm pleased to say that I now see the whole truth. I am in love with my wife. She is the love of my life."

"Soul mates," Buffy responded with understanding, nodding her head.

Her eyes met his again as he slowly confessed, "But I am also in love with you." Buffy's heart nearly stopped as he walked up to her, "If we were in another time – another place – I would give everything to be the man you deserve. And I wouldn't have you until I was worthy. But we are not in another time; we are not in another place. The path that I must follow leads home. As a lover, I cannot stand by your side. But as a friend, I will fight with you until there is nothing left."

Buffy swallowed hard, tears brimming her eyes as she breathed nervously with her heart aching, "You shouldn't be saying this…"

"I know," Aragorn replied. "But it has to be said." His hand reached up and touched her soft face as a tear rolled down her cheek. "He did not die because of you," Aragorn declared. "He died for you." He stared into her green eyes as they met his again and he added softly, "And now I know why." Another second together and Aragorn took his hand from her face and stepped back away from her, retreating away from that which he was not allowed.

The King cleared his throat again as he declared, "I shall gather the others in the basement." He began again to avoid contact with her eyes nervously. "I…" he swallowed deeply, "I will tell them that you wish to speak with us."

Aragorn turned away like a soldier and exited the kitchen. Buffy stood there by herself, wiping her eyes quickly as she turned to the countertop and stared at the knife and the can opener, Aragorn's can of cold food sitting in between them.

The clock struck midnight as the day of the battle came upon them. Buffy was in the basement standing in the center of the Fellowship that encircled her. The moon shined through the small window, illuminating her face the way it had the night before and brightening the room considerably.

"Don't think for a second that I don't understand how much you're sacrificing just by standing here", Buffy began with a appreciative expression on her face. "But I want to make sure that you understand." The Fellowship gave each other confused glances and stared at her with puzzled looks. "Now you've gotten us this far, and I couldn't be more grateful, but we're not dealing with the Good Reverend Prick anymore. We're dealing with a Turok-Han army of millions."

Legolas nodded, his eyes on her firmly. "The danger is high."

Buffy turned to him and gazed at him incredulously for a few seconds. "Yes," she replied finally. "Yes, it is."

"Let them come!" Gimli announced, gripping the handle of his axe firmly.

"We've had our share of danger in the past," Merry said with a shrug.

"That's for sure," Buffy agreed with a nod and a scoff. "Your fair share." She looked to all of them. "Are you sure you want more?"

Aragorn declared like the King she remembered, "We shall not abandon you when you need us the most."

"I shouldn't be your main concern," Buffy explained to them with the weight of that day bearing down on her. "Your problem isn't time anymore; it's death. I can't… I can't promise you that you'll get back home." She gazed at them closely, shaking her head as she struggled to elucidate. "Galadriel told me that I have a destiny, but I also have a choice. Of course, I really didn't get it, but I do now."

She began to pace a bit, declaring with perfect understanding of the way of the world, "Everyone's told us that we have a place where we belong and to stray from that would bring consequences. What I want to know is… who chooses where we belong? I know I'm not standing in front of you because I have a destiny, or even because I'm chosen. I'm here because this is where I choose to be. This is where I think I belong. Now tell me. Where do you think you belong?" She looked down at Merry and Pippin with their eager, yet solemn faces as she added, "Think about your friends." She turned to Sam. "Think about your children." She glanced up at Aragorn. "Think about your wives." His eyes pulled away from hers as he gazed into the darkness contemplatively. She gazed down at Frodo and added softly, "Think about your home."

"Tell me," Buffy announced for all of them. "What do you choose?"

The minute hand of the grandfather clock in the Summers' living room turned in its endless direction once more.

Buffy stood in the kitchen staring out of the window and with her newly-discovered heightened hearing sense could hear the click of the minute hand moving, along with the repetitive beating of the seconds passing away.

It was 7:22 now. Just as predicted, the sun began to appear behind the quiet, deserted southern California hills overlooking Sunnydale. Buffy stood in the kitchen with her arms wrapped around her, staring silently out the window as she slowly watched the sun rise and beckon her call to arms, when on any other day for the past seven years it had beckoned her call to rest.

The Slayer could always feel the sunrise before it came. On any other day, she would slowly start her journey towards the sanctuary of home. On any other day, it would signal a time to hide her face away from the normal, sunny patrons of the daytime. On any other day, it would mean that the danger of the darkness had past.

Today, the darkness was just about to fall.

Spike stepped back away from the basement window and returned to his cot in the corner of the Summers' cellar. He, like any other vampire, could sense the heat of the sun before it appeared. But on this day, he, unlike any other vampire, could feel the weight of the sun resting on his shoulders.

He sat down on the cot in silent, brooding thought as he gazed down at the heavy, crystal amulet in his hand. In his mind he could hear it speaking to him, telling him of what was to come. It was not the First, but he decided that it was probably a combination his intuition and his own destiny. Hell of a battle, he thought to himself.

And would it matter? Would it make a difference in his life – in anyone's life? Would it weigh nearly enough compared to all of the horrible things that he's done?

No, Spike shook his head firmly and surely. No, it wouldn't.

Frodo sat outside on the porch step gazing up at the sky as the light of the stars began to diminish before his eyes, reminding him of the day ahead. Irony, perhaps, for the most peaceful night he had in a long time to be followed by the most terrifying day of his life.

Was that worth being there for?

There was calm, he thought. If I die today, I had at least one more hour of calm. Something I was so sure that I would never see again. One night of serenity. One moment of peace.

Was that worth dying for?

Frodo looked down at his hand, particularly at his index finger which was half missing. It was the smallest price of his previous involvement in war. He reached and rubbed the back of his neck, his hand passing over the scars left by the tugging of the chain which held the most tremendously awful weight for thirteen months.

Sam also stared down at his tiny hand as the rays of light entered Dawn's room. The golden ring that rested tightly on his finger looked up at him, reminding him of everything that he had at home… everything he could lose today.

I'm so sorry, Rosie, he whispered in his mind. If only I had known where I would be, I wouldn't of asked you for anything. I wouldn't of asked you to give up so much to me…

The thought of her quintessential beauty burned into his mind; the memories of the way she looked on their wedding day screamed at him to return home.

Doesn't she look beautiful? his mind asked him as he remembered her rosy pink face and the tiny white flowers in her curly hair. Isn't she the most beautiful thing you've ever seen?

Most certainly, he said, shaking his head with regret. The most beautiful ever…

The memory of her telling him of her pregnancy crept into his musing thoughts. The baby, he thought, picturing his child growing up without a father. The light reflected off of the wedding ring and struck him hard in the eyes as they started to well up with tears. The choice was simple: Did he want to be a Champion for his baby, or did he want to be there for his baby?

Aragorn gazed down at his sword as it gleamed up at him, the sunlight striking it in his position in Buffy's bedroom where Gimli and Legolas were asleep. His blue eyes deeply outlining every curve, every sparkle, every cut, as he pondered the weight of his weapon.

The weapon of Kings… meant to lead his people. But does that apply to all people? On any other day, he would be waking from his bed in his castle, going to the window and fixing his eyes on his domain as the sunlight covered it. He would turn back to see Arwen in her angelic and innocent sleep and would swear all over again to defend both his land and his queen.

Arwen, he thought again, her gigantic, blue eyes staring lovingly at him.

He was no king. He was a soldier first and foremost. That's why, he had decided overnight, he was here… in this position. Torn between a kingdom and a battleground. Torn between a queen and a Champion. Now he was on his way to fight, and possibly die, in battle. He wondered to himself if he would rather die in his sleep than die in a conflict.

War, he decided.

That is the path that I choose, Sam thought to himself.

So wrongs are righted, Spike determined.

So peace can be found, Frodo nodded as the stars faded away.

Because that is my purpose, Buffy resolved as she reached into a trunk in the master bedroom as Willow and Kennedy slept. Her hand closed around a soft, warm, black cloak from Middle Earth as she held it up in the light of the day. Her green eyes were fixated firmly on its comforting darkness.

That… is my destiny.