I CAPTURE THE SUN

Pairings: Buffy/Legolas

Teaser: Buffy ends up in Heaven, which happens to be Middle-Earth. But not everything is as heavenly as it seems as she's come in the middle of a war and finds a piece of Heaven worth fighting for.

Rating: If there ever was a reason for a PG-13, it would be this chapter. And that would be the light side of things. It is a rather dark chapter, so forgive me. I, for one, enjoy writing torture. It is the perfect blend of any drama, and since drama is my middle name (which is actually Kay), here it is.

Summary: Buffy's version of Heaven is Middle-Earth. When she arrives, she is brought to a clan of fighting women. Seeing this as her eternal reward for fighting and killing on Earth, Buffy is only too happy to return to her roots - until she is captured by the Elves and begins to learn there's a whole lot more worth fighting for... in Heaven.

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon. The 'Lord of the Rings' book series belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien. The plot is (hopefully) my own.

Timeline: The story is currently set approximately fifty years before the start of the Fellowship. Buffy has been in Middle-earth for roughly twenty-three years.

Gratitudes: Once again, I owe many thanks to the reviews left for this story.

Part Summary: The Elves of Mirkwood search for a shadow while Buffy takes on the evil at Dol Guldur.

- - - -

Part III

- - - -

The task of tracking a young woman taken captive by the Orc was daunting, but the Mirkwood elves were up to the task. Since the days when darkness had spread throughout their wood, they had wanted an alliance with the people in the Shadow. They lived in the southern branches of the forest along the Anduin valley. The people of this particular tribe were descendants of the Dunlanders, who had separated from the original group once the land they had once occupied had been bestowed to Eorl and later named Rohan.

One of the three Princes had led his guards and his people from the villages from Rohan to Rhovanion. They had prospered there for nearly an entire generation before the corruption from Mordor and the evils from the southern half of Mirkwood started to wane away what could have been a beautiful settlement.

From the east had come the Dark Elves, those who had been enslaved and corrupted by Sauron. They had completely destroyed the settlement and had killed nearly half of the population before the rest had gotten away. It was then that the Mirkwood Elves had heard of this Lady of the Shadow. She had emerged from the survivors of a broken clan and had taken them into the forest, seeking protection. They had found it with their newest leader. The Lady of the Shadow was most evasive, building several outposts around their village and making certain that those protecting the village were well-armed and well-trained. Despite the spread of dark creatures and evil through the forest, there was once a small section that still sparkled under the light.

Legolas knew it was because of her. She was just an apparition to them, hardly seen but well known by many. Even the Dwarves from Erebor had heard of her, but none spoke her name, for few knew it. She was a leader of the small band of people remaining from a great settlement twenty years before, and she had completely transformed a once nomadic people into a battle-ready, war-hardened clan of fighters. Not just men, but she had an entire army of women fighting at her side.

His father, Thranduil, had insisted that Legolas escort this Lady of the Shadow up to the northern edge of the forest, for he much wanted to speak with her. While men were distrusted this far north despite the wide trade between the Elves and Dwarves, Thranduil saw the woman as an asset to the darkness spreading over his own lands. She had seen more of the forest than his own knights and he planned to use this knowledge to rid the forest of evil once and for all. At least, this was how Legolas presently saw his father's thoughts.

Legolas knew better. While his own guards had been traveling with him, others had gone southwards towards the village and had met their timely torture and eventual release at the hands of a stunted, fair-haired maiden who spoke like chipped ice and whose hazel eyes were set to mesmerize all who set eyes upon her. The people, he had been told, regarded her as royalty, and to this Legolas held the highest regards, for he was a Prince. She fought only with a large group of women who were rather skilled at a wide variety of weapons and were rather strong from being descendants of a nomadic tribe.

The rest of the history of this tribe was unknown to the Elves from the north, except for the knowledge the true leader traveled with this Lady. Legolas had met her, he decided, when he had laid eyes upon Siri. She had been deemed as cold and ruthless as her leader, but with her was a darkness, twisting vengeance and agony. He believed Siri to have something hidden deep within the bowels of her mind, but didn't pause to dwell on them. He had been sent to find this Lady and he was going to do his father's bidding.

Their horses rode southeast towards the dark fortress, looming in the hills over their heads. Already storm clouds were gathering and thunder rumbled in the distance. The ground before them had been widely trampled, as only Orcs could move.

What he saw among the dead, twisted branches and leaves surprised even him. Gently dismounting his horse, he bent to the ground and touched a few of the leaves from the small plants squashed into the earth. "Not idly do the leaves fall," he said quietly, his fingers touching the bright red stain set upon the leaves. It was blood that would belong to a man.

"She may still be alive," one of his knights said, riding up beside his Prince, who gazed ahead, his eyes sharp and direct, searching for any signs of trouble.

"If she is, she does not fare well," Legolas replied, rising to his feet and staring into the darkness. "She has been wounded at best, and at worst they have taken her carcass to the fortress. We must press ahead!"

"My Lord," said the knight, giving his head a long bow, "what if the Orc return? We hardly number ten. To press further without support would ensure us a quick death."

"We must press on," Legolas said, feeling the urgency of his words as though his father were standing beside him, speaking into his ear. "I believe she is still alive, but in peril. We must come to her aid."

As they rode onwards towards the south, Legolas kept his eyes on the ground, where an alarming amount of blood had been shed. If she was alive, she was quite injured. He only hoped, for her sake and for all of theirs, they would reach the dark fortress in time. The people to the north of Dol Guldur were counting on them to rescue their revered leader. And Thranduil was counting on his son to bring back a worthy adversary for information.

- - -

Rain lashed the small curtain of rock above her head as Buffy rolled onto her back, staring bleakly at the sky raining upon her. She opened her dry, bloody mouth and let a few of the raindrops caress her cracked, swollen lips.

She had been tied to one of the posts by the ankles with what felt like an iron ball. It had to weigh at least a hundred pounds, but if that wasn't bad enough, her wrists were still chained above her head to an opposite post, as though she were strung up between stone posts. Lightning flashed high above her head and she turned her face as the rain started coming down harder, following by hailstones the size of golf balls. She curled up to protect herself, her body wincing in protest at her sudden movements. It hurt far too much to move, which meant that while she had been unconscious a few hours before, they had done something to her.

What remained of her clothes had been torn away. They had been replaced by what looked more like an old potato sack and felt nearly as comfortable as it scratched and tore at her once soft skin. The hail hurt has it collided with her body, no matter how hard she tried to protect herself. It was hard to curl, with her ankles and wrists bound and hanging above her. Rolling onto her stomach, she felt the impact of the weather pounding her body relentlessly into the ground.

She refused to cry out. She refused to break. Even as she heard the sounds of the Black tongue being spoken at her mockingly, along with miscellaneous items accompanying the unremitting beating. Her nails dug into her palm and she felt the blood trickling with the rain down her arms.

She was forced to endure this for nearly an hour before the weather seemed to finally sense she had taken enough and the storm began to cease in intensity. Lifting her sopping head, her eyes saw her bloody hands tied above her and she moved one wrist, and then the other. She knew that her enemies had taken shelter from the storm, wanting to see her suffer under the intense deluge instead of allowing her the same comforts. Relaxing both wrists as they cracked in pain, she glanced down at her ankles. If she could free her wrists, then she could certainly get out of the bindings on her feet.

She gave her left wrist cuff an almighty wrench and her shoulder cried in protest. She finally cried out as she yanked again, her bruised, bloody shoulder nearly giving away as Buffy collapsed back onto the muddy ground, exhausted and nauseous. She was so dizzy she feared passing out from the pain. She realized then that she had lost a lot of blood and it began to scare her. She had already been dead twice. This was supposedly Heaven, except that it seemed to be testing her body. Apparently there were worse things than death.

Her captors seemed to realize that she had survived the onslaught from Mother Nature and returned, jeering and mocking. Two of them lifted her in the air as two others unlocked her restraints. She didn't dare run however, as more than three dozen more were surrounding her, swords outstretched and bows set with arrows ready to fire.

"Hi, guys," she said in her subdued voice as her feet finally hit the ground again. Her quivering knees almost gave way and she stumbled forward. The Orc made no attempt to steady her as she fell to her knees, coughing. A thin stream of blood poured onto the ground as she fought the urge to fall completely to the ground.

"You are lucky you are sought," one of the Orc said, grabbing a fistful of her fair hair and yanking her back to her feet, placing his knife at her throat. "He wishes you unspoiled and clean. Take her away, boys!"

He pushed her down the stairs of the dais into the arms of the many Orc who gave howling, mocking chuckles that made her eyes narrow. As they dragged her bodily into the shelter, she was forced to endure even more torture. They first ripped the sack from her body using their knives, leaving her naked before them. In the light from the many torches on the walls, she could finally see the extent of her injuries as they forced her into a pond of rancid-smelling water. Buffy cried out as they started scraping the mud and blood off of her skin, leaving her tender flesh rubbed raw and red and her wounds which had closed began to open under the unrelenting force of their clay scrubs.

They then dunked her head under water for so long she feared she would drown again. As they yanked her out again, she gasped a few breaths as they poured what smelled like fresh cement on her head before pushing it under. After being scrubbed red and raw, they pulled her out, dried her off with the same sack that had protected her from the storm outside, and then pushed her into another room. They appeared to be in what was a temple and in the long, dual reflecting pools, she saw how terrible she looked, even though she was naked.

She could barely walk she was so tired. She wanted desperately to sleep, but she knew that something even worse would happen. She instead waited until something hard was tugged over her head. As the Orc pushed her from body to body, she soon found herself wearing a long black cloak with some beautiful silver etchings. Her hair had been pulled tightly from her face and wound into a tight bun. Finally, two Orc came forward and cuffed her wrists again before leading her through a tunnel of marble and back outdoors to a beautiful hill glowing above.

She was led by her escorts to the top of the hill, walking many steps. Halfway up, she collapsed from dehydration and exhaustion but was forced to go on at knife-point. Apparently, their leader would wait for no one.

She saw a shadowed figure waiting for them inside what looked like a large stone gazebo, which turned white as the lightning flashed in the distance.

There were figures around the open space, all of them carrying a torch or holding a sword. Buffy lifted her bruised chin defiantly as the Orc presented her to the cloaked figure before them.

"The Lady of the Shadow, my Lord," said the lead Orc as he pushed the woman forward, removing her bindings and nearly taking her wrists with him.

The figure turned and Buffy saw something she wasn't expecting. Her eyes widened as a heavily-armored hand reached up and pulled off a long black hood. Underneath was a ghostly white face of a skeleton, with a silver crown burning like an apparition on top of his head.

She couldn't even open her mouth to scream.

"We meet at last," he said in a low, dead sounding voice that brought chills to her damaged flesh. "The Lady of the Shadow has met her Lord."

"That's right," she said coolly. "I am the Lady of the Shadow. And you're stupid."

His armored hand shot out so fast she couldn't even think of a defense for herself. He was nearly at her neck when his hand stopped. The skull smiled coldly. "It matters not. Your words are your own misgivings. You are your own poison."

"Yeah, well at least I'm still pretty," Buffy said proudly, taking a step closer. Why she had been fearing this encounter was beyond her now. Had she just lived through three hours in complete hell? This was beyond ridiculous. The time had come for more than just words. She was ready to trounce this guy into the next century. Or back to her version of Earth, whichever came first.

"You will make a fitting gift for the Dark one."

Buffy repeated his words mockingly, her arms folding. "Is that supposed to scare me? Because I'm not, you know, scared."

"To accept the power being offered is to accept a new life," the figure replied, turning away from her again.

"You know, after spending a day with your big bad uglies, I just can't figure out why the hell you'd want to see me for. I mean, look at me… I'm human. I'm filth. I'm cannon fodder. I'm just basically… useless."

"There is no life within you," the figure said in the same voice. "You are thus a Shadow."

Buffy couldn't help it. She started laughing. The guards surrounding them leapt to the defense of the Lord of the nine, and she found herself nearly doubling over with laughter. "Oh, I needed that," she said with a sigh, clutching her side with her bloody, injured hands. "So you know I'm dead. Big surprise there. It's my second time."

"You will soon become one of us," the Lord replied, turning and giving her a cold, chilling smile. "Whether it by your will or not, you will become one of us."

"No, I'm really not looking to play hooky, Dad," Buffy said, crossing her arms again. "So I'll start looking like you. As long as I keep my hair, I'll be thrilled. I'm not some weak, pathetic ass who follows his Master like some love-sick puppy. So, dead boy, that is my final answer."

"You will not be able to leave from this fortress, this you know," the Lord said, giving her another one of his tantalizingly cold smiles. "Those who have come will be thwarted. Elves, the trees say. How little they know of the darkness you hold. I have captured the sun, but in her heart lay a soul of cold."

"Bite me," Buffy said, tilting her head. "See, here's the thing: I'm the thing the darkness fears. I'm the reason why my land has laid empty of your freaks for so long. And I'm going to be the one watching you die when someone really, really strong kicks your stupid ass for even thinking you have some power here!"

His hand reached out and from the darkness he drew his sword. Her eyes widened when she saw the spiked edges. The guards were now completely surrounding them.

"I will make your passing clearer, Lady of the Shadow," he snapped, holding it out ceremoniously before him before whipping it to his side. "There is nothing to hold you to this world."

"You're wrong," she snapped, clearly fed up with everything. First there was Siri and her reckless impulses. Next there was the attack and her capture. The torture had been bad. Being dressed and treated priceless by Orc was even worse. But facing something she could actually fight and to not fight back was stupid. As his sword flashed through the sky, it caught the last trace of lightning to the north. As it fell, it fell on a pair of slim hands reaching out to brace herself.

"I'm the one who gets pissed when everything else goes away," she snapped, throwing the sword back and kicking out at it. Watching as the figure screeched a truly hideous screech; the others surrounding her came in for the kill.

She was ready. Injured, bruised and battered she was, but she was ready to take on any who would dare attempt to try and kill her again. Her body protested, yet her senses worked perfectly as she fought off the first few attackers before the Lord of the Nazgûl turned back to her, his sword at his side. "You fool," he said, his voice a low, menacing hiss.

"Me, fool. You, moron. I got it," she replied, dropping the Orc she had just finished strangling before lifting his sword and twirling it in her hands. "So, where's your darkness now?"

- - -

The women from the outermost defense reached the village after only a few hours' journey. When the host brought Siri forward, the healers in the camp quickly made a space for her, while Mauve came forward to explain what had happened to the few that remained in the Council.

All were alarmed at the suddenness of the attack. There had been a reason behind it, and since only one person had been taken, it was feared they were after their leader.

"Why would they come after her?" one of the elders asked in a fearful tone.

"It's because she leads us," Mauve replied angrily, dropping Buffy's sword on the ground in the middle of the hasty circle of town elders. "Too long has she protected us from all evil. Too long has she stood alone leading us while Siri chooses to waste her life away by watching our Lady give hers for us."

"We cannot leave her to her doom," said another elder, bowing his wrinkled, old head.

"The Elves have gone to rescue her," Mauve replied angrily, folding her arms.

This brought about sounds of disbelief and uncertainty. "Is this wise?" the man asked, astounded. "We all know of the history between our people and the Elves. It is folly to trust that they may actually want her alive."

"I think they would have killed us all if they wanted us dead," Mauve said bitterly. "This was a plan conceived by Siri. She believes that if Buffy were to go before King Thranduil, she would finally get revenge for the death of her father."

Many gasped. One of the younger women stepped forward, her dark eyes flashing angrily. "She is willing to use our leader for her own selfish act of vengeance?" she demanded, her arms crossed. "Siri is acting irrationally. She may be the one whose father led our people, but I, too, am of his kin. I may be young but I am not going to stand by and watch our Queen fall before the Elves, if the Orc have not murdered her first."

"She is right," the elderly woman replied, glancing at the child fondly. "She speaks the truth of what really has come to pass, Mauve."

"I do not wish to go against Siri's wishes," Mauve said briskly. "In our Lady's absence, she is our leader."

"She will never lead us," the girl snapped again. "Buffy is our leader. I am not going to stand here and watch you turn your backs to her and condemn her a torturous death in Dol Guldur!"

"Is that where they have taken her?" the elderly man asked.

"It is likely that the Orcs took her to their stronghold," Mauve replied, bowing her head slightly.

"What of the other defenses?" the girl asked. "Can more be spared to rescue her?"

"Rescue her?" Mauve gasped. "Are you mental? We are in no condition to form a rescue party, especially after we just lost over half of the outer defenses."

"You may be her lieutenant," the girl said, stepping up so that she was nose-to-nose with the taller girl. "But I happen to be someone she has trained personally these past few years, since I could walk. I am not about to abandon her. I will take my own group."

"You are naught but a child," the elderly woman gasped, reaching out to touch the child's face, but the girl twisted back, her face a menacing snarl.

"You are all traitors," she said, glancing from one face to the next. "You have betrayed her and leave her to the mercy of the Elves? They may not be the ones that attacked our people and killed our Prince, but I will be damned before the pointy-ears take another of our leaders." Bending down, she pulled Buffy's sword into her hand and held it into the light, turning so that each face could rest their eyes upon it. "This was a gift of my cousin's to my Princess before he died. She is going to wield it once more and she is going to strike down all of her foes, as she has done for us since the beginning. All of you would rather see her rot with the Elves or the Orc. I will not bow to my cousin's foolish vengeance."

Turning, she pushed her way through the group and into the small cabin where Siri's wounds were being bandaged carefully.

"Traitor," she said, pushing a healer aside as she dropped the sword-tip onto Siri's lap. Siri turned her dark, bruised face to look at her cousin. "You would have her dead and your father's crown in your claws. I loathe you, cousin. I loathe what you have become. You bring evil with you, and by your will or not, my Leader is going to die. I was far too young to stand up before, but now I am old enough to carry my cousin's ways. You are never going to see the light of day again, because if our Lady does not return home, I will claim her crown. She deserves more than wretched vengeance-seeking hounds. There are Orc for such things." Pulling the sword brutally away, she saw the look on Siri's face harden.

"You think you are wise, Daire, but you have no knowledge. I have followed her from the beginning."

"You betrayed her!" the younger woman shouted. "Your guards were to look after the outer defenses, which were broken once the Orc came, were they not? Had you been doing your task instead of pressuring others to succumb to your power, she would never have been taken. You only wish her dead to take her seat in power. You would love nothing more than to see the Orcs destroyed and the Elvish kingdom crumble under your iron fist. But it will not happen today. If I am to find her, I wish her return to cleave your head and wear it upon her spear as a symbol that she remains to be in power over you."

"You are a fool, cousin," Siri retorted, turning her eyes to the low ceiling stretching above her head. "You follow her on faith, yet you know nothing of leading. She had led us."

"She raised you," Daire replied gently. "Does that mean nothing anymore?"

"When the last of our enemies is driven from these woods and I return home to my forefathers and family I have left behind, I will respect her for what she has done. Until that day comes, I am going to fight for what is my own. My mother may have chosen her, but I will not bow to an outlander to carry us home."

"Home is a fictional myth leagues farther than we have ever gone!" Daire exclaimed. "You speak of what could be. I speak of what is. I am certain you will not forgive me for what I am to do, but it must be done."

"Do not…" Siri said, glancing at her. "You cannot do what you want, Daire. She would not want you to throw your life away."

"As opposed to you sending the Elves to her rescue?" Daire asked coldly. "It was a mere reckless choice, Siri, was it not? Did you have her best interests in your heart when you set the Elves to rescue her? What did you think would come of it? That she would survive the encounter? That she would betray us? Or do you honestly think she would betray them?"

"You know not what you speak of, cousin," Siri snapped, turning away.

"These elves did not kill your father," Daire said softly. "You know this. Why do you carry such hatred? The weight must be unbearable. You may not know, but I have foreseen this. I have seen your death, your end in battle. You will die as bitter as the frost settling on the treetops come spring. You will not breathe the free air. You will not see another summer passing. To hold onto that power would be a raft for you in such a stormy path, would it not, cousin? No… I am going to find her and I am going to bring her home. She deserves nothing less than our full loyalty; even yours, Siri."

Siri would not look at her. She kept her eyes averted to the opposite wall. "Be safe cousin. I could not bear to lose another member of my family."

Daire sheathed Buffy's sword in her own belt, devoid of her own sword. "If I should return, think better of me, Siri."

"I shall," Siri said, her voice muffled by the wall she kept staring at.

Daire let out a long breath and departed the house of healing before returning to stand before the other women, storm clouds gathering over her head. "I am not going to abandon our Lady to the mercy of the elves," she said in a low voice. "To those of you who still carry loyalty for our leader, come with me. We do not have a lot of time."

- - -

It was nearing midnight when Buffy was finally forced to release her sword and give up, once again giving up her freedom to the mercy of the Orcs.

"Weak, pathetic, vulnerable, all of these you carry," the dark shadow said mockingly. "Yet you are no man."

"I'm a woman," Buffy said proudly. "In case that means anything."

The figure turned back to her in one swift movement and opened up his skull-like mouth, emitting a loud, piercing shriek into the night. It was answered by several others. Buffy felt her breath catch in her throat as she followed the gaze of the Lord of the Nazgûl and looked up. Dark figures were moving against the dark grey sky and she felt suddenly frozen. The screeches were carried far into the darkness of the night.

The Elves currently approaching felt it as they found themselves suddenly surrounded by an enemy they knew was lying in wait for them.

Daire and Mauve were leading the entire force of Amazons into the woods and they all glanced up, soaked from the deluge that had set upon them and hearing the frenzied cries of the elves as they fought off their aggressors, Mauve made the motion to leap into battle to rescue the same beings that had been sent to rescue their leader. They hastened to intercept the Orcs before the elves were wiped away.

Buffy lowered her gaze and settled it on the darkening face looming before her. It smiled chillingly. "By morning, you will pass into this night and all that you have brought to this world will be swept away."

Making a motion with his hands, she was grabbed from behind and a whip crackled through the air, wrapping around her bruised wrist, forcing her to drop the sword. Other Orcs surrounded her, pushing her brutally from one body to the next.

"This isn't over," she said slowly, glancing as the figure raised his hood and darted away from the precipice. "Do you hear me? This isn't over!"

- - - -

In the next chapter, Buffy comes face-to-face with her rescuers and her faithful guards meet their own match in the greatest fight of their lives. Our resident Slayer and our immortal Elf will also meet, finally.

This section has hopefully answered some of the questions you have asked. To answer a few more… Siri's unwillingness and her defection have been coming, since she has learned that her father was a ruler and her mother died leaving Buffy, a strong woman who helped rescue others, in charge of the entire village. Even though Buffy raised her, she sees Buffy as a figure standing in the way for what is rightfully hers. The next few parts will touch on the past, including the scene where Siri's mother died. We will also learn more about Daire. Siri is not a bad person. There is a reason why she is defecting now, and it was touched on in this chapter, and will be seen soon. Thranduil wasn't completely honest with his son either about his true intentions with meeting this Lady of Shadow. It may have something to do with the fact the Lord of the Shadow has returned to Dol Guldur and has sought out the Mirkwoods' Lady. These Amazons are more of a creation of my own (well, technically, they were created for the jungle world in a different story but I have chosen to use them here as well). I am not really familiar with Greek Amazons, if you wish to explain to me what they are. To answer the question as to why Siri is defecting now, the reason will soon present itself, I believe, in the next part or the one past that.

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving for those of you who celebrate the old American style (and for those of you who have already celebrated this holiday, a belated Happy Thanksgiving to you!). I will hopefully post the next part early next week when I return home. I am aiming for Tuesdays, since they are turning out to be a relatively easy day. Just five more weeks until graduation and I can hardly wait!