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: I owe you guys a lot of thanks for the reviews for this story. The number doesn't matter; it's all about the quality. I know I posted this about two weeks after I originally wanted to. I apologize for that. Things have been more than chaotic lately, not to mention I have actually been writing for the guild I belong to instead of revising this. I do not intend to do another update before Christmas since I have both of my finals next week, so I shall see you week thereafter!
Part Summary: Buffy is in for the biggest fight of her life, while her rescuers face their own odds. Buckle on down, we're in for more action.
Alyson's Definition of an Amazon: I just had to add this, since some of you did define this for me. About three years ago, I was involved (as an editor) on a writing project that had this species of women that lived in an underwater city. They were extremely well-versed in the world, were wicked strong and were quite intelligent. They existed as warriors for an ancient race of normal people, but they were the fighters and guards of the people they served. I sort of adopted that theme into this story. Buffy's amazons are the protectors of the people she belongs to. She created them because of Siri's destiny (to be described later) and because, by then, she'd had enough of male posturing.
- - - -
Part IV
- - - -
The silence was far too great within the woods. The wind was light and foreboding, speaking of the unimaginable dangers that awaited all who approached the great fortress of the Necromancer, a hill and pit at the end of a long journey.
The silence stretched to the black guard of the fortress, standing with their hands upon their morning stars, glaring out as the storm passed overhead. They could sense the powers of light approaching and they knew that the woman in their grasp was the reason why. The thought that this woman would draw their enemies to their gates brought them great satisfaction and they gave their grand army the signal to move out. Their orders were to leave none alive.
In the great pits of Dol Guldur was a pit of stone surrounded by a ring of fire. A great rod hung overhead and the Slayer was bound by her ankles, only semi-conscious, her hands brushing the tops of the white-hot rocks. Water rolled from her in large droplets as her breath became more labored. She knew that if she lost total consciousness, she was as good as a walking shadow. They had strung her up, cutting her skin in small, narrow cuts before hoisting her upside down, leaving her there to eventually die or pass into the Shadow. By morning, there would be a tenth.
She forced her eyes open as the blood ran down her arms in small rivulets, fueling the fires below. She knew she was powerless and left to the mercy of whichever power guarded this planet. She had to pray that someone would take care of her or that someone would hear her cry before the time became too late and Buffy died. If she passed into Shadow, she was as good as their worst enemy. She was already a Lady of Shadow, but to become one figuratively and literally meant facing something she wasn't sure she was ready for.
Buffy Summers had never been evil. Lady Buffy, or Queen Buffy, or Saint Buffy… whatever those people had called her… she didn't deserve all that. She worked her destiny into her new life. It was as simple as that.
Her body ached after the whippings and cuttings and the piercing. She could still feel the places where the iron bolts had been driven into her skin. She hadn't cried out. She hadn't shown weakness. She was determined to be strong until the very end.
And it looked as though her end would come that night.
She closed her eyes and swallowed, but felt her stomach churn. She could taste blood in her mouth, along with bile. She was also getting cold, despite the fact the fires were burning so close to her. Every time she opened her mouth, she would let out a piercing cry. It was the cry of one of them.
Someone had to save her, she thought desperately, wiggling in an attempt to gage how strong her bindings were. She felt the cold metal bite into her bare ankles and gave up, letting her arms dangle below her head. She had to reserve her strength, or she was going to die that much faster. Of all of the options given to her, death was not one of them. She was either going to live to be tortured or she would turn into an evil nasty like one of the nine.
If she had her way though, she would be dead before that happened…
- - - -
By the time that Daire and Mauve reached the edge of the wood, they heard the sounds of a vicious fight within the clearing ahead. Mauve quickly gave the signal for the others to hold back as she lifted her bow from her shoulder and steadied the quiver against her thigh, her eyes peering intently through the brambles. Daire remained behind, but Mauve's other women stole forward, ducking to see through the branches.
"This is what she would call one hopeless situation," the woman whose head was below Mauve's elbow murmured.
"She has never seen a situation as hopeless," Mauve replied, glancing at the large circle behind her. "All right, this is what we shall do."
She explained her plan quickly to her own guards before even turning to the ones under Daire's command. "We keep this in three groups," she said, getting down on one knee and pulling out her carving knife, gesturing to the different groups of women and instructing them to take their different positions. As the sounds of metal clanking grew louder around them, Mauve gave the order to move out. Her own guards moved to stand behind her, their hands pulling out their swords and drawing out their arrows.
With a single movement, Mauve sprang forward, her bowstring tightening as she released a single arrow, the shaft spinning flawlessly through the air before impaling itself in the helmet of a flanking Orc.
As one large group, the Amazons rushed into the wood to free the Elves that had once again managed to get themselves into a precarious situation.
- - - -
From his position at Dol Guldur, the chieftain smiled a cold, mirthless smile. This was what he had been waiting for. His eyes moved to the shrieking heard from the pits far below. The smile widened. If any were alive by the time they had reached his fortress, they would find their past leader and it would be their blood that would first whet her new existence.
- - - -
Legolas and the rest of his guards reached the edge of the wood before he paused, lifting his hand. His eyes were suddenly wary, as were the eyes of those in his encampment.
"There is movement," one of the Elves behind him breathed.
It was more than just movement. In their haste to get out of the thicket before the storm passed, they had completely thrown off the fact that the enemy had slowly been surrounding them. They seemed to be lying in wait for the Elves to press into the clearing waiting like a haven from the storm waning in the distance.
"We must go with caution," Legolas said softly, his piercing blue gaze finding the shadows in the woods beyond. "They will come upon us swiftly."
No sooner had the Elves gone into the clearing did the Orcs attack. The Elves had been ready for the ambush as they leapt from their horses, sending their faithful beasts from the clearing. Knives flashed in the peals of lightning in the distance as the groans and grunts of the attacking force were heard through the entire forest.
Legolas found himself using his knives, since the bow would be mostly useless in such a fight. As the Elves spread out to better face such foes, the Prince soon realized they were clearly outnumbered at least four to one. The Orcs didn't go for the kill, which was a surprise. Instead, they appeared to be pushing the Elves back towards the center, cornering them for a final slaughter.
It was then a single arrow flew from the darkness and took down one of the enemies. Legolas turned his head and at that moment, figures came launching out, as their aggressors had too been surrounded. The fight renewed, the Elves spread out.
Mauve's bow was particularly effective, picking off target after target as the bodies continued to collapse. Her entire line were now lined up on either side of the bushes, arrows piercing into the night, careful not to attack any of the Elves, despite their reservations for the clean, immortal species.
It was then Mauve noticed that the Orc were trying to flee back into the woods. Throwing her bow over her shoulder, she darted after dark creatures, the others following behind, while the Elves remained back, fighting off the few that remained.
There was a sudden gasp, a scream and a roar. A figure somersaulted over a small body before a single foot kicked out, sending the Orc spinning into the trees before another crowd of figures came into the clearing.
It was Daire. Mauve pulled out her knives as the rest of the Orcs found their numbers being cut down by a large number, fought by well-trained Amazons highly skilled in both the art of physical hand-to-hand combat and weaponry.
The only trouble was, there were more enemies coming, and from above them, a screeching cry.
"That is the last thing we need!" Daire cried out as she kicked one of the bodies aside, her eyes staring as a winged creature flew overhead. "Ringwraith."
"They are stalling our approach," Mauve said, drawing up beside her. "They are bottling us here for a reason."
"I imagine it would have to do with her," Daire said angrily.
"Whatever the reason, more are coming," Mauve said, pulling out her blunt blade, her eyes darkening at the sounds of many footfalls and grunts.
"We must go to her," Daire said, taking Mauve's wrist before the older woman could move forward. "She needs us. These Elves can take of themselves."
"You sound like your kin," Mauve said, ripping her hand away.
"If you will not go for her, I will," Daire said, and before Mauve could take her by the arm, the younger woman drifted away.
Mauve didn't have time to go after her. The Orcs burst through the forest and Mauve found herself launching forward, wishing she could throw away her morals as Daire was certainly able to.
But Daire didn't get very far. She had taken all of three steps before an Elvish hand struck out and took her arm, pulling her deeper into the shadow. Before she could utter a scream, a hand reached out to cup itself over her lips and her eyes widened as she met a piercing blue-eyed gaze. "You," she hissed, forcing his hand away. "What do you think you are doing?"
"Why have you come?" the voice asked, forcefully shaking her by the shoulders.
"You did not expect us to stand by and watch you kill our—"
"That is their reason," Legolas replied, dragging her backwards a few more feet. "I do not believe it is your own."
Daire tore herself from his grasp, her eyes infuriated. "You do not even know my name," she snapped.
Before he could reply, there was a shrill scream. Throwing the Elf back towards the woods, she darted forward before leaping into the air and grabbing the branch above her. Using inertia, she swung back and forward forcefully, kicking an Orc cleanly across the clearing before dropping onto the ground. Using one of her trained roundhouse kicks, she downed another Orc before managing a cartwheel that knocked her frame into a third figure.
Mauve and her line had found themselves surrounded by taller creatures that weren't willing to go away. They were faster than the other Orcs they had passed earlier. Mauve found herself face-to-face with just a single one of these, and upon her first assault, a gnarled hand came up and twisted the knife from her hand. Crying out, Mauve pressed her hand upwards and as the figure reeled backwards, its own blade swung out, barely missing her body. It took nearly all of her strength to twist out of his attacking arms until his grasp tightened around her throat.
It was a great blow to the creature's back that finally released Mauve from certain death. She dropped to the ground, lifting her gaze to see that an Elf had come to her rescue. Ignoring the outstretched hand, she sprang to her feet, reaching for her weapon in the darkness.
In the distance, a great horn rang out.
"Daire," Mauve muttered as she and the Elf pranced back into the clearing, past the bodies of the Orc and the larger figures of the half-trolls. There was the sound of clanking metal in the distance, along with great cries of pain and the grunts and hisses of the dying. "She was right," she countered, turning to the Elf. "They are bottling us here."
"They must have no intentions of letting any leave alive," the Elf agreed, glancing at the smaller woman who turned, holding her blade in her hand. Her mind raced to determine what Buffy would do in such a situation. She knew her Leader would fight to the death if it was necessary, but was it?
"We must scatter," she told the Elf. "Please, take your Prince and get out of here. You need to get to her. You need to get her out of there. We will give you the time you need and provide the diversion." Seeing the look on the fair face above her, she realized then she had lowered herself to plead with a creature she had been taught all of her life to hate. "I fear for the safety of our people if she does not hold out the night. Your people have the power to protect her. All I can offer is a chance for you to save the one person in this world both of our peoples need."
The Elf finally nodded and consented to her mild plea. "It shall be done."
She gave him a brief smile before turning and darting into the woods. It was only a moment before the Elf heard the sound of more metal beating.
In the distance, the great Orc army had finally arrived, beating upon their drums, their own trumpets sounding in the wood.
The Elf turned and found his Prince on the edge of the wood, his bow in hand, his eyes dark with realization.
Legolas listened as his kinsman explained the plan to him. After a fierce nod, Legolas gave the sign for the Elves to withdraw from the fight. From what he had heard, these women had fought through worse.
- - - -
It was only when she felt a cold hiss of breath pass through her lungs did Buffy realize that she was passing. It was well past the middle of the night and, from what little of the sky she could see, dawn would soon approach. Her skin was cold to the touch despite the fact the flames were practically brushing her skin. Every sound she uttered was a cry into the darkness, one that pierced into the hearts of the Elves on their way to rescue her and the Amazons who had just given their lives for the Elves to complete their rescue plan.
Breathing was becoming considerably more difficult now. Every breath was a sharp gasp that sounded like nails running down a chalkboard. Her skin was becoming cold and hard, and she noticed that her arms were becoming more translucent.
If she ever needed a miracle, it would have been at that moment.
In the distance, the Witch King stood atop his domain, staring at the sounds of death in the distance before smiling, his eye-sockets glittering in his opalescent face. He knew that they were far too late. The changes were already occurring. The one that had been considered a needle in his side was about to stand by his side and with Sauron, a mighty triumvirate of power would reign from Mordor.
Sauron had foreseen her destiny, a Lady of Shadow appearing in the darkness of the night. She would later pass on to become a Nazgûl, just like him. She had great power and with her heart, a great destiny set before her. It was one that had been manipulated by the forces of darkness from the first day of her arrival.
At last, they were to gain the one ally that would make them unstoppable. At last, they would have domain over the ends of the earth. The ridiculous war from the First Age would count as nothing. With the triumvirate of power, Melkor would finally be able to ascend, and all of Arda would fall to darkness. Sauron was but a single lieutenant to the throne. The Lady of Shadow was about to become its queen. Melkor had never spoken of the Valar before now, but his return would bring a great many things into the world.
A sharp, piercing cry erupted from her. He smiled his thin smile. It would only be too soon.
- - - -
"Daire!" Mauve cried, pushing away a dead Orc before turning to cut down another. "Daire!"
Siri was going to hurt her if anything happened to her cousin.
She found Daire surrounded by carcasses, fighting valiantly with one sword, the bodies of the dead women scattered around her, all bloodied and lifeless. Mauve led the charge back into the woods just as Daire turned to see who had been calling her.
It was then a great metallic blade came down and bit into her arm. With a cry, she spun around to kick the figure away, but not before glancing down at her mortal wound. She lifted pained, dazed eyes to Mauve who stood there, stunned. It took an eternity for the moment to pass. As Daire fell to her knees, Mauve sprang forward and took the attacker's sword in her bare hands, lifting the hilt and forcing it to collide with the face of the Orc bearing it. Then, pulling out her opposite knife, she drove it into his chest before tossing his body aside. She turned to see Daire holding her arm and whimpering.
Mauve got down to her knees and held Daire's arm to inspect it. "Daire," she said softly, turning to the younger woman. "I need you to listen to me. It is very important that you—"
"No," Daire said, shaking her head. "No more orders. This is barely a scrape." And yet, as she tried to stand up, Mauve pushed her back down.
"I will restrain you if I must," Mauve said forcefully, grabbing the girl's chin and turning her determined eyes toward Mauve's own calculating gaze. "You are one of the last of the royal kin. Buffy believed you to be destined for something above battle and death and woe. She did not want this for you."
"I want this for myself," Daire said through clenched teeth. "Siri does not factor in my decision."
There was a shrill scream in the distance.
"While be bandy words, our people are dying, Daire. You must get back to the village. If Buffy is to live and find you have died, many of us will suffer her wrath. She has a way."
Daire finally lowered her eyes. "I will go," she said at last. "I worry for you, Mauve, and for…" Her voice died as she glanced at the bodies of the women she had known from battle legend as tears threatened her control. "I do not know if this is what I can accept."
"We have fought for many years in this way," Mauve said, helping the younger woman to her feet. "Take your guard and return to the village. You alone will have the power to say what has happened here."
Daire gave her a small smile and a nod before turning, walking away from the sounds of battle, fleeing for the north.
"Now let the night be dark for all of me," Mauve whispered, lifting her sword as she grasped the horn Daire had passed to her before blowing into it. "Let what will be, be."
- - - -
Daire hadn't run more than a dozen steps when she froze, her face cooling. She had taken this order because of her injury. Daire had great strength and had been hand-picked by the Lady herself. She was proud of her great skills and she had proven useful even when she'd been injured.
She knew returning to the battle with Mauve was pointless. To go to the aid of the Elves would be the perfect fitting end. She was one of the many in their legions that would die for their Lady.
She called what remained of her own guards around her and they charged back to the south, fighting off the fleeing hoards of Orc. The Elves were fighting the last rear guard of the army, defeating the undefeatable army and for the first time throwing a wrench into the plan of the Witch King.
Daire chose to remain behind and linger on the outside of the great fortress opened before them. There was a wide tower hall, long arches of black rock stretching over a pool of pure black water. From the tower was a great pit, deep into the earth. A bridge of twisted wood and metal connected the tower to the great mines before it, with huts housing the armies of Dol Guldur. The entire hill was surrounded by great black war towers, usually sat upon by the winged creatures that carried the Nazgûl rode upon in battle. They were now eerily silent, the guard pulled for the annihilation of the army approaching from the north.
What the Witch King began to realize was that he had underestimated his enemy. In his fury, he had gone and had the woman brought up from the pits. Her skin was scarred and burned and cold to the touch. He took her silent face and stared into her distant eyes. Her skin was nearly white from the effort, and yet he could feel her fighting his power. He struck her face once, twice, three times, each time a small breath would come. Her eyes wouldn't even blink anymore.
He wanted her to make the cry to discourage the guard from coming.
Her head snapped back and forth, but her body made no movement. It was then he began to realize she had the power to shut her life down and he shook her figure harshly, trying to force her to make a sound. When her lips finally opened, her eyes became lucid and she grinned a cold, bloody grin. "Bite me," she spat, before lifting her leg and weakly kicking him aside.
It was then the Elves charged the bridge, forcefully removing the guards as they rode up to the top where the Witch King was facing a woman lying upon the ground. Even at this distance, they could hear the great cry of the Nazgûl and the equally chilling sound of her one cry.
"It's never over!" she cried out, her voice a piercing shriek.
"You fight the darkness, Lady of the Shadow yet you have not realized what you have become." He was circling her now as she struggled to her feet, her body broken and defeated, but her resolve was steel and strong.
"I am no Shadow," she snarled, before lunging at him, and with strength he didn't know she could possess, she began to beat him back. The Orcs rushed forward to defend their leader just as the Elves arrived, their arrows piercing the night.
"Your time is ending," the Witch King spat, lifting his metallic-gloved hand towards her. "You have no time left. You will become the Shadow and that will be your greatest hour."
With one last gesture, his hood was ripped from his cloak and behold, it was but a ghostly face with a tall silver crown.
With a snarling shriek, the Witch King turned and leapt into the darkness just as Buffy felt the cold air sweep back into her lungs as her broken body collapsed from beneath her, defeated.
- - - -
Mauve found herself at her wit's end as she gathered the full strength that was left to her and prepared to charge the remainders of the once-great Orc army.
They had done rather well considering this was their first head-on fight.
Mauve was just about to make the call to charge when another horn blew in the night.
"That is no Orc horn," one of the guards murmured.
From the woods came great dark horses and with them were the great men from the north.
"Rangers," another guard gasped.
Mauve had to admit that their timing was that of the essential.
In the forest miles away, Daire was waiting for the Orc to flee before her knights cut down the guard retreating from the great fortress before the women pressed in on the city. Lifting her bow in her hand, she raced through the maze before they came to the bridge and crossed it.
They came upon a great circle of Elves surrounding a figure lying on the ground in the arms of an Elf.
"No!" Daire cried, pulling out her bow and feeling her guards do the same.
The fair beings turned with some level of surprise to see maybe two dozen women standing there holding well-crafted white bows, all of their arrows aimed for the figure holding their beloved Lady in his arms.
"Take your hands off of her," Daire said in a cold voice.
Yet Legolas did not move away from the figure shivering in his arms.
"She passes into the darkness," he said, turning to glance at her. "She needs Elvish medicine."
He was ignoring the fact that he could be cut down at any time.
"Your hands…" Buffy whimpered, her eyes full of a deep, twisted light as she let out another shriek. "Your hands… are warm…"
Daire lowered her bow as she heard the hypnotic tone of her beloved leader. Giving the order for the others to do the same, Daire pushed aside many of the Elves to bend down beside her leader.
"What is becoming of her?" she asked, her eyes wide.
"She is passing into the Shadows," Legolas replied. He bent his eyes down to gaze at her beautiful face, so sad and full of torment as she struggled to hold on. "She will soon become a wraith like them."
"Is there anything you can do?" Daire asked. It was a great mark to ask the one race she had been taught to hate for assistance, especially when it was a tribe of this race that had destroyed her village, her family and her existence.
"It would be most helpful if—"
His words were cut off as an arrow came within an inch of his neck before clattering harmlessly on the black rock behind him before bouncing into the black pool.
"We must hurry," Legolas said, lifting the figure in his arms. He felt her struggle against him, but he would dare not release her. He still needed her for his Father and, in part, he needed to save her. Something so fair should not suffer the wrath of something so harsh and cold.
She opened her mouth and shrieked, her own Nazgûl-like cry piercing the darkness.
On the horizon, a faint sliver of gold began to appear.
And, as the host was leaving the city, Legolas holding the Lady before her, another host came from the west, led by the Rangers and the remnants of the great army of women.
For a long while, there was awkward silence.
They only started to move once the arrows flew towards their large, formidable target moments later.
But Buffy Summers had found her miracle.
- - - -
This part was technically longer, but I added it to the next (shorter) chapter. In the next part, Buffy receives her healing and begins to crave the light and touch of the one Elf that helped her return from darkness…
Notes: I do not recall reading about the geography of Dol Guldur, so I created my own. I drew a map too, as it would help with the descriptions. I only wish that in the films they had shown the battle of the Elves against Dol Guldur or else the Dwarves and other Men in Erebor.
Lastly, for those of you who have read 'But A Dream', by the request of the person it was written for, it has become a series. It has been quite a lot of fun to write, on top of my other assignments, and until I start publicly posting it, it will remain on the Guilds site. I just wanted to let you know that more parts to it existed.
I will thank you beforehand for the wonderful reviews I know I will receive. You are helping my transition into fanfiction to become much, much easier. Journey's End should be updated before the end of the weekend.
Have a great holiday season!