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: PG-13.

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 am going to try to answer the reviewer's questions in this little section. Zayra: The Amazons do live in Mirkwood Forest, north of Dol Guldur but south of where the Elves live. And since they have a tendency to move about a lot, they have an idea of all the dangers the forest has provided and thus will prove to be of great use to the Elves and Men of the wood. This chapter will answer the question of where Buffy will remain. Arrowhead-water: They actually have their first conversation in this section. It was not the equivalent of 'hitting it off', but at least they have made first contact. Oz-bat: Would you believe my mother was the one to tell me about the newest book release date? She called me as I was getting ready to travel back to Minnesota with the news that it was being released on July 16. TonyDiMerasbedroomslave: I can't even begin to comment on all of the ideas your handle has given me. I only wish I had time for Days of Our Lives.

Alas, questions? Comments? I would be happy to answer a little bit of everything at this point. I have done enough writing these past few days to ensure that this story is nearly complete (it only needs to be divided into sections and parts, which is a small problem and often requires more writing). As this is part five, I do believe there will be between fifteen and twenty in the final count, or maybe more if my Muse visits me again. I will update my other stories before returning to WI.

Part Summary: Buffy's salvation comes in the form of the two groups that her people trust the least: the Elves and the Rangers. Mauve must make a decision that will affect her Leader and her people for many days to come… one that could potentially lead to war.

- - - -

Part V

- - - -

The Elves had reached the edge of the great black gates when the group led by Mauve halted their progress back to the north. Legolas gently set the barely breathing figure in his arms upon the ground before lifting his even gaze to face into the cold emerald eyes of the lieutenant standing before him, bow in hand. Her women's weapons were down, but their gaze was hostile and their movements predatory as they took in the scene unfolding before their very eyes.

But more to her surprise was the appearance of an injured Daire, standing behind the Elf and moving into the small peal of light remaining from the fires flaming around them. Her bow was in her hand, yet her face wore no guilt at disobeying Mauve's order.

"She needs Elven medicine," Legolas told Mauve, gesturing to the figure at his feet, stirring lightly. "She passes into Shadow as we speak."

"She is the Lady of the Shadow," Mauve said, her voice belying her cold will. In her own mindset, she was concerned about the presence of their great fighter, lying broken and defeated at the mercy of the very creatures she hadn't trusted one bit in the least. To see her unconscious, barely breathing and bruised almost beyond recognition was startling. "She will go back to her people."

"Do you not understand?" one of the Elves demanded. "She needs medicine or she will become a Wraith, like the ones that have passed. She will cease to be your Lady. She will cease to exist in her own rights. She will be neither living nor dead. She will not remember her people from her enemy, all allegiance will be forgotten and by her manner she will seek to destroy all in her path."

There was a soft whimpering noise at Legolas' feet and he bent down to touch her face, still quite cold to the touch.

"Then perhaps it would please you to know that we have found some visitors on our own accord," Mauve said, stepping aside as the Rangers stole forward. Daire gasped from behind the Elves, an arrow flying into her hand so quickly it appeared as though it had been teleported there by sheer will.

Legolas brightened considerably when he saw the tall, broad-shouldered men in their greenish cloaks clasped at the shoulder. They all wore surly expressions, but as one stepped forward, his expression changed when he noticed the figure lying on the ground, unconscious. Whenever she opened her mouth, she would emit a piercing cry, making all about her cringe, even the Elves that took much to surprise them.

"This is Strider," Legolas said, nodding at the figure as the Elves parted to allow him passage to the body at his feet. Bending down, the Elf met the man who had taken her hand and was holding it.

"She passes quickly, but she fights it still. With what strength, I do not know," the man told the Elf softly. "I do not know if I can help her."

"You must try," Mauve said coldly.

"I will do all I can, but it is Elvish medicine she needs," the man called Strider retorted, a bite to his tone. "And do not counsel me in the least, lady."

"If I did not counsel you, you would abandon her to eternal torment as a Nazgûl. If she turns to one, I will make certain you are her first victim," Mauve said, turning back to the other women who were gathered near the others, staring almost curiously at the scene unfolding beneath them. It seemed ridiculous somehow and most certainly ironic. Buffy had led the women for years to fight off the Rangers. She had led them to fight off the Elves. The Orcs were their most lethal enemy and fighting them was an almost everyday tradition. To see two of their worst enemies help save the woman who had spent most of her life defending her people against them was most beguiling.

Buffy's eyes fluttered open to see the most perfect azure gaze above hers. She tried to speak, but no words would form. It felt as though air was being sucked from her lungs, forcing her to inhale sharply, the cry of the Nazgûl ringing clearly in her ears. But no matter how many times she uttered this sound, the two by her side would not give up. She felt as though something strong were forcing her to fight and she felt her powers return clearly. She may have been dead before her arrival in this Middle-earth but now she truly felt alive. She blinked as the stars above her seemed to smile upon her. As the men and the Elf continued to work their magic, she found that she was better able to breathe. Her voice was starting to work again, but her mind was far too exhausted to form words. The shock of the injury to her body was returning to her and she felt considerable pain even as she felt a warm hand close over her own.

They didn't move her once. They kept her in her place, working fervently through the night under the watchful eye of a handful of Rangers, a gathering of Elves and a rather large band of Amazon women who watched their leader succumb to the medicines performed by her two worst enemies.

By the time the sky began to brighten, she was in excruciating pain. Most of the sense of reality was beginning to return to her as the poison was worked away from her system, a combination of sheer Slayer force and the combined efforts of Elvish medicine performed by the Ranger and the Elf. She could feel her breathing labor as her cracked and potentially broken ribs began to ache. Her fingers, dislocated from twisting and tortured use, began to ache and swell. Her open wounds began to close after long hours of bleeding freely, a gift from her Slayer powers. Even as her body began to heal after fighting for so long not to pass into Shadow, it was difficult to see beyond the moment.

Mauve stayed in the exact same place all night, her bow barely grazing the ground, her eyes locked on the figures surrounding her lady. If only Siri could see them, she thought. The Rangers and the Elves would be dead, and their Lady would be picking them off one by one as she would have most certainly become a true Lady of Shadow without this aid. The Rangers and the rest of the Elves had dwindled on, but the Amazons formed a protective circle and posted guards in case the evil from Dol Guldur returned.

"I have seen many things in my time," Strider said, as he gently lifted her tunic to examine a series of deep welts, the result of hours of whipping. "Her skin heals as though it were never broken."

"She has many secrets, or so my Father says," Legolas replied. "Yet he believes she will prove useful."

Strider took the risk of glancing at the circle of women surrounding them, all with the same cold, irate expression. They were clearly not happy about the current arrangements and were standing vigil around their fallen leader.

He returned his eyes and gently moved the fold of fabric before gazing into her face. Underneath the bruising, the blood and the endless stream of emotions crossing her face, he could see her eyes. From what he could tell, the Orcs had tortured her senseless, almost ensuring that once she became a true Shadow she would unleash all holy hell upon whichever creature came to her first, whether it was Elf, man or neither. "My lady?" he asked softly, moving towards her so that she could see him.

Her watched her blood-caked, swollen lips move once or twice before she blinked. He watched as her bruised eyes opened again, this time showing their pain as tears trickled from the corner of her eyes, leaving trails of wetness in the deep grime lining her face.

"It… hurts…" she whispered, her lips barely moving.

"They tortured her," Legolas said, his voice full of deep disgust as he was examining what he could of her frame without having the arrows of a hundred Amazons fired at him. Even as his hands passed over her more sensitive regions, he could sense the women behind him arming their arrows with low hisses of disgust and vehemence.

"Will she survive?" came Mauve's cutting voice as she approached the two, snapping from her reverie at last.

"The Shadow has evaded her for now," Strider replied, pulling his hand from her shoulder, which looked to have been cleaved raw in places, her skin a tattered mess of blood and fabric. "I have no doubt that it will try to equate her again."

"If it does, we will deal with the matter in our own way," Mauve said smoothly, fingering her gladius almost lovingly. "If you come near her again without our consent, you will have our entire people as your enemy and to our entire numbers, one with forces as few as yours could not survive these odds." She nodded at the figure lying on the ground. "Our Lady has trained us well. We would not dare to go against her wishes and even now she defies your orders, your regimes and your agendas."

"We understand that your numbers are vast," Strider said, turning to appeal to Mauve. "Your uses are many in this forest but can be used well elsewhere."

"We only live to serve our Lady," Mauve replied curtly. "She is the one that gives the orders."

Strider turned to glance at Daire, who was staring hard at him. "I understand that few members of the royal bloodline survived," he continued. "Is she one of them?"

"She is not," Daire replied as the guard standing next to her gave her a reproachful look, while the one standing on her opposite side made a discreet shushing noise. "She was chosen by our leader before her death, after her husband fell in a battle twenty two years previously. He found her to be a commendable warrior and promised to give her hand to our Lord once we returned to our land west of the Hithaeglin. He perished before he could fulfill his promise and since his wife has died, our Lady Buffy has carried their will to bring us home."

"There are many dangers in the forest," the guard on Daire's left said. "For our part, she has protected our people in her lonesome until she decided that many of us were worthy to fight."

"She believed in the power of a woman," the guard on Daire's right. "She trained us to fight, how to use weapons and how to use our instinct."

Strider turned back to the woman on the ground by his side and saw in her eyes the truth that these women spoke of. He could tell by the fierce expression on her face that she was fighting her great pain and, at the same time, was showing pride in these women for defending her actions.

But it was Mauve who spoke up next. "She does not come from the bloodline. It is unlikely she comes from our lands. Not many of us remember what it was called or how it existed, but for what I know, our people came to the forest searching for a better life and it was not given to them. Over half of our village was taken by the Elves." At this, she turned cold eyes to Legolas, a pale eyebrow arching almost questioningly. "We survived because she came to us. She is our leader, even if she does not come from our land."

Legolas glanced at the anger in Mauve's eyes before his eyes lowered to the figure and he touched her face again. Responding to the warmth from the touch, her head turned and his blue eyes met hers, a soft shade of green with a hint of gold in them. They were beautiful eyes, full of pride and yet a great sadness.

"Our ancestors came from Eriador in the days of old before they decided to cross the mountains," Mauve continued. "There are only two of the royal bloodline remaining, and one was nearly killed when the Orcs attacked our camp two days prior to remove her."

"She would have made a powerful ally for Sauron," Strider said, finally getting to his feet. Legolas bent down and slipped one arm beneath Buffy's neck and the other behind her knees before lifting her weak form into his arms. She let out a soft moan as her bloody arm came up to wrap itself around his neck, staining his greenish tunic and his golden hair crimson with her blood.

At this movement, the women stepped forward and over half of them were aiming their arrows towards the pair. "Do not touch her, you foul creature," one of the guards snapped, stepping up next to Mauve, her own bow and arrow set to fire. Mauve was still holding her bow by her side and hadn't made a single attempt to arm it. She was still staring rather thoughtfully at Strider, chewing on her lower lip. This was not the time for a lieutenant who served such a figure as their leader to grow soft.

"Mauve," the guard called Alwyn replied, glancing at her leader. "Will you give the order or shall we consider you to be one of them? They dare encroach upon our Lady!"

"What will you do with her?" Mauve asked the Ranger and the Elf, all but ignoring Alwyn's demands.

"She needs rest away from this forest, for if the Wraiths return, she will surely be taken by them again and this time they will not stop until she lies in Mordor," Strider replied.

"My Father, Thranduil, wishes to speak with her," Legolas said calmly, still holding her silent figure in his arms without giving the barest hint that her weight would hinder him. "He believes that her presence in this forest may best serve both of our kinds."

"You will find, Elf," Daire said through gritted teeth, "that not all of our kind would agree with that. You must understand that I am one of the last remaining of the bloodline of Wulf. The other belongs to my cousin, the true heiress of our people who surrendered her rights as she was a child when her mother passed away. You have met her, and many call her Siri."

Legolas' gaze grew weary as he glanced at the figure in his arms before turning back to stare at Daire. "My father holds no ill will towards your people even after our battles of the past."

"Siri holds no love for your kind or for any other besides our own," Daire retorted. "We have survived long before us, and we will be damned before we allow other races to grace our numbers. Once our Lady is strong again, you will see how long her contempt has grown. She is the one who gave us our strength and to bear her away to the King of this blessed realm would only serve as a reminder to the fact that your race destroyed half of our people!"

For being one so young and still learning the craft of weaponry, she was rather gifted in politics, Mauve decided, glancing at the younger woman.

"Erae gave her the crown as a gift because she knew that Buffy was the one that the people could turn to in times of trouble," Daire replied, her voice lowering and becoming almost calm. "As you can more than likely tell, these times are not without their troubles. Many of our own have fought and died bravely, and still more come. If you believe you can take our village from her, you are sadly mistaken. We owe her much and for most of us, the price is paid with our lives. We will give our lives to defend our people, as she already nearly has. She may not be one of us but as far as we are concerned, she has always been one of us."

Legolas attempted to move forward again and faced a hostile circle of women pressing upon the pair of them. The other Elves and the company of Rangers heard the sounds of the shouting and quickly intercepted, only to find themselves surrounded by the Amazon guards.

Even Mauve had armed herself, her arrow aimed straight at the brow of Legolas, her gaze distrustful. "You will not take her away from us. She belongs with her people."

"Am I not one of your own?" Strider asked, his tone impatient.

"That remains to be seen," Daire snapped. "We have never trusted your kind. It seems unlikely such allegiance would work now."

"I do not intend to use force," Strider continued, lifting his hands to soothe the woman's already jangled nerves. "But if King Thranduil requests an audience with your Lady, I suggest you give the King his counsel. He will not ask twice and it is likely he will in turn use force, for he knows how well it worked with the Wraiths."

Mauve lowered her bow a small fraction to look into the eyes of the Ranger. "Let me make this perfectly clear," she said calmly. "I do not trust you. I would not hesitate to kill you."

Daire's bow was completely lowered as she turned to Mauve, her face an expression of outrage. "You cannot be serious!" she gasped. "You would give our Lady willingly to our enemy?"

"It is as an errand of mercy," Mauve replied, "but just this once I believe the Elves can be trusted."

"You do know that the moment Siri discovers this decision your life is forfeit," Daire reminded her. "Not even I have the power to overrule her command, as she has stood at Buffy's side for many years."

"Of this I am certain," Mauve replied, lowering her bow completely. "We cannot hold back the evil that spreads rapidly, Daire, no matter how many we have in our ranks. We have only small outposts and our main was nearly destroyed and our Lady was taken, Siri herself was gravely injured. We cannot afford to turn back aid, no matter who it comes from. If King Thranduil can see an end to the open hostilities that has existed between our peoples for a hundred years, then I shall surely take the consequence of my life."

"You would sacrifice your life for this inane decision?" Alwyn gasped. "Have you no decency? When Siri discovers what you have done…"

"We shall ask our Lady to seek her decision," Mauve said firmly, her tone of voice clearly stating there was no room for negotiation. "Come." She walked forward, approaching the Elf, who was still gazing at the hundreds of arrows still trained on him and Strider. When she reached him, she glanced into the marred face of their Leader who turned to her.

Buffy had been only semi-conscious through the conversation, now fully well aware of how badly her body had been beaten these past few days. Even a dead woman could only survive so much torment before giving completely over to darkness. As Daire's voice defended her actions, she could sense that her lieutenant's heart was in the right spot. She turned her wary eyes to Mauve's and with the slightest motion, nodded her head. "Go," she whispered, her voice a breath of pain. "Get… get them out… of here… in case… the others return."

"I understand," Mauve said, reaching forward to place her hand on her Lady's shoulder. "If I do not see you again, know that my spirit goes with you to whatever end."

Turning, she gave the order for the rest of the Amazons to disperse. Many looked aggravated and others livid about this decision, yet followed it unquestioningly. Daire was the last to hold out, finally lowering her bow at Strider's gentle, "She will be returned to your people, but first we must see this done."

"I will hold you to your word, Ranger," she replied, finally lowering her arm and releasing her arrow into her opposite hand. "If you do not, my face will be the last thing you will ever see on this earth."

The three groups of people soon gathered into their own, although Strider had not yet left Legolas' side as he managed to put Buffy on his steed. She had blacked out again and as he moved her, he saw her ribs showing through the back of her tunic.

"You must hurry before she dies of fatigue," Strider said. "We will meet again, Legolas."

The Rangers left without another word to the stone-faced women who leered from the sidelines, far outnumbering the Rangers and the Elves. There were well over a hundred and with many guards posted, Legolas had a feeling that many more had arrived through the night. Yet all stood in line behind Mauve, all believing her death to be imminent upon her return to the stronghold of their people.

The Elves quietly mounted their horses and Legolas turned his steed to face Mauve one last time. "Garo lend vaer," he said quietly, wishing her a safe journey back to her land. She nodded, still stone-faced as the Elves turned and departed for the north and east, bringing with them their gravely injured leader.

Then, one by one, the other women turned to go. At last, Mauve stood there and, as an afterthought, cast her bow to the dark fortress before following the other women out.

- - - -

It was just past midday when Buffy woke again, feeling her face against something with long hair. She brushed her aching hand along the neck of the horse she was riding until she felt a strict figure behind her and froze. Just as she was to open her mouth and inquire what the hell she was doing on a horse, she heard a peal of Elvish song.

"I'm on a horse," she muttered to herself, taking a deep breath and immediately wincing as she felt the air go through her lungs. Her chest ached; the result of cracked and probable broken ribs. Her shoulder stung as the horse continued to move and she knew it was rather injured. Most of her welt and cuts were healing rapidly from her Slayer strength and even now as her senses returned to her, instead of feeling as though she were in the gravest danger, she felt as though she were in the safest of havens.

"Are you awake, my Lady?" a soft voice asked from behind her.

"I am," she said, not bothering with the pain to turn around and look at him. "I am in a small amount of discomfort though. Can we stop or are you in a particular hurry to get me to your Master?"

Legolas gave the order to stop and his small Elvish company came to a halt, allowing Buffy the chance to finally stand on wobbly legs before collapsing onto the ground. Not one of the Elves came forward to help as she struggled to her knees. It was almost ironic to see a powerful woman that many in the Mirkwood had feared as pained and frustrated as she was. When she finally got back to her feet, she wasn't in a very pleasant mood. She turned her glowering eyes to Legolas, recognizing his fair features almost immediately.

"So they have sent a Prince to the rescue," she sneered, finally relaxing her body against a tree, at least ensuring for the moment she would remain on both feet. "How thoughtless of your King to send you, for if I had my strength back, you'd be dead right now."

The women warriors hadn't been lying. This woman clearly had issues with these Elves and it was evident by her haughty, almost superior expression. "Okay, so we're going to try this from the top," she said, hating the fact that her voice was shaking. Her body wasn't ready for the fight yet, but she was swelling up as though she were. She could take on two dozen Elves, no problem. "What the hell do you think you're doing, taking me away from my people like that?"

"It would have been wrong had they been your people," Oroduín said calmly.

"They are my people!" Buffy snapped, her eyes flashing as she turned to the Elf, a sneer spreading across her bruised, broken face. "I am a human being, am I not?"

"Thus are the Rangers," the Elf continued, his voice as calm as before. "Still you make war with them."

"I had no choice but to make war with them," she said, her voice a barely concealed snarl as she looked him in the eye. He got the message rather clearly that she wasn't afraid of him in the least, despite the fact she was outnumber twenty four to one. "The Rangers were picking off my warriors one by one. If you mess with one of mine, you mess with me." She turned her intense gaze back to Legolas. "I will give you about a minute to actually tell me why you thought kidnapping me is intelligent before I start with the ass kicking."

Legolas had no doubt in his mind that at full strength she could easily dispel and potentially kill all in his party. But in a weakened state fresh from torture and mayhem, he knew her strength was considerable and that she could cause a lot of damage before sheer fatigue caught up with her in the end.

And yet, he chose to answer her despite this fact. "My Father, the King of the—"

"That would be his reason to tell you why I needed to be hauled away," she said, fire in her eyes. "What is his real reason?"

"He wishes for nothing but your allegiance," Legolas replied softly.

"He will not have it," Buffy snarled. "Do you think my people would allow me to become best friends with the King who, for all we know, destroyed our people? I don't think so."

"He needs your allegiance," Oroduín said gently.

"I don't care if he needed the Pope's last pardon," Buffy said, shaking her head vigorously. "Do you know how seriously dead you Elves will be if Siri decides she wants to attack? Would you really risk open war?"

"And what of the war we already fight?" Legolas asked.

This seemed to startle her back to her senses, her rant fading as she glanced at the Elf. "What war?" she asked, her voice forcefully tranquil. "What war do you fight, I ask? My women have been spilling blood against three fronts from three different wars. You know our numbers and know we have considerable strength. By taking me to your father, you have just condemned your people to death."

"I think not," another Elf said softly. Her sharp gaze turned to glower at him, yet he did not shrink back. "You have seen much of the forest of Mirkwood, as we understand it. There was once a time when the Elves lived in harmony in these trees…" For a moment, his voice turned wistful as he stared at the waving limbs above their heads. "That time has now passed and evil lurks from Dol Guldur. You have seen and fought against much of this evil and for this you are valuable to the war."

"What war?" she asked, speaking as though she would to a child.

"The war against Sauron, the great lieutenant of Melkor from the first age," Legolas replied automatically.

"Sauron actually exists?" Buffy asked archly. "Gee, didn't really think that one through. Let's see… his old Witch King just decided that I would be a powerful triplet to their cause because, oh, right… Sauron was back. When are you immortals ever going to get the idea that I actually do have a brain?"

They were looking at her as though they'd never seen her before. Legolas was looking at her through a different light. The fatigue was beginning to show. If he could get her back on his horse, they could reach the Elvish settlement in two days…

Buffy, on the other hand, was wishing she could find a weapon. She could feel them pressing in around her and it was clearly making her uncomfortable. She knew her best approach would be to bait them into thinking she was weak and then strike at the opportune moment. She sagged back against the tree, resting her head on the bark momentarily before turning her eyes back to Legolas. "Will I be able to return to my people?" she asked through a dramatically tired voice.

"If you wish to return after what my Father has to say, it is your will be it done," Legolas replied.

"Good," she said, giving him a rather cold look. "I'd hate to think I'm being held by the pointy-ears against my will for nothing. I just spent two-and-a-half days in the chamber of horrors and if I have to do it again, I'm afraid I'll go all pissy, turn into the damned Shadow and kill you all anyway."

They had no doubt in her mind that she wouldn't.

"We only ask that you keep an open mind, my Lady," Oroduín said, stepping forward. "We would not want to restrain—"

His words were cut off as Buffy, realizing her personal distance had been compromised, let out a snarl like a wounded and caged animal and leapt upon the taller Elf, sending them both tumbling to the ground. As he rolled away from her, she flipped back to her feet, teetering slightly as the force of the impact jarred her battered body. Legolas came up from behind her and wrapped his arms around her. She easily released his hold and bodily pushed him away towards the other Elves before turning back to Oroduín, still standing there and staring at her.

Seeing the knife in the sheath on his waist, held by his armor, she sprang forward but instead of assaulting him, kicked his legs from underneath him. As he went to his knees, her hand swept across his chest, sweeping the knife cleaning from its holder before she pressed the cold, sharp blade to the Elf's neck and shouted, "Stop!"

The other Elves, who had gone to get their own weapons, halted. They were staring at her blankly except for Legolas, who actually placed his hand in the air. He gave the signal and the call to put their weapons down and the others complied, worried that she would actually carry through on her threat and take the life of Oroduín, a young Elf in the Prince's court.

"Now I think it's time we do this on my terms," she said, grasping the long silvery hair of the Elf, her gaze wooden. The Elves made no movement, remaining as still as the trees they stood beside. "If your King tries anything, I will decapitate him and deliver the head on a staff to my Commander, who would love nothing more than to see Thranduil's head on a pike. Are you with me so far?"

Again, there was no movement.

"Secondly, if one of you touch me in any threatening manner, I will promise you pain beyond comprehension, and that's above and beyond this," she said, indicating her injuries. "One of you had better start speaking up before I get cranky."

Legolas chose to be such a spokesman and came forward, his hands still upwards. "We will accept such a token of parley in accordance with your own rights," he said quietly.

"And here I thought you said I didn't have any because those weren't my people," she replied sarcastically. "Do you accept this… er… parley?"

"We will accept this," Legolas said in a voice of forced calm.

"Okay," she said and with a small laugh released her hold on the Elf she was still threatening with his own dagger. "Sorry about that. You seem like a really nice Elf and all, but you're the one that invaded my personal space."

He didn't say anything as he slowly got to his feet, his gaze suspicious as she smiled at him before returning to dagger to him. "It's a nice knife," she said with a shrug. "I like them curvy."

He gave a small nod as he took his knife and sheathed it. She gave him a quiet smile before her own aggravated body caught up with her. She put a hand to her head as she fell to the side. Legolas, who was the one closest on that end, came forward and caught her as she fell, holding her above the ground as her hands went to his arms to steady herself.

"I'm just… feeling a little weak," she said, giving him a hesitant smile as her gaze met his. He rose, bringing her with him, his arms supporting her. He called for one of the Elves to bring water and one returned a moment later with a canteen, offering it to Legolas who took it.

After settling Buffy on the twisted trunk of a rather large tree, he took a bit of cloth from his robes and doused it with water before gently dabbing at the dirt and blood on her face. She didn't try and push him away, and he felt slightly guilty knowing that the Orcs had pushed her to her limits. And yet, as he looked in her eyes, he could feel her resilience.

"How bad do I look?" she asked, her voice still rather cool. "Am I… oh…" He had just pulled back the blood-stained cloth and felt her face, still damp. "I guess that answers my question, huh?"

"Your injuries are recovering," he said, tipping her face towards his to clean the other side. "You are not as gravely ill as you were."

"That's a relief," Buffy said, watching as he pulled back to rinse off his cloth. Oroduín, despite the fact she'd just tried to mutilate him, came forward and offered her drinking water. She took it gratefully. "Thank you," she said, giving him a slightly guilty smile.

"Hold out your hands," Legolas said, as Buffy turned back to him. As she put out her hands, she recoiled when she saw her fingers. She remembered the pain of them twisting her fingers back to the point where she would cry out, but she never broke once, despite the agony as her joints were bent from location. Sometime during the night, her fingers had been put back into place and now, her knuckles slightly swollen, they welcomed the cool water.

He touched her hand and she let out a tiny breath. He knew her hands had been gravely injured. It had been two of his fellow guards who had gone to restore her joints, and watching her recoil from him now was almost painful knowing the hell she had endured just to arrive at this point in time.

He took her hand in his and ever so gently started scrubbing at the dirt and grime caked on her pale skin. She was watching him pensively, her intense eyes boring into his forehead. He was easily one of the most beautiful creatures she had ever laid her eyes on, and she had seen a great many in this world. Certainly she had never married because she didn't believe in it. While the idea of an arranged marriage at the beginning held its merits, she wouldn't capitulate to it in the end. She knew this. And perhaps this was one of the reasons why.

He gazed up at her then and, caught staring, she turned a slight shade of pink, hidden underneath the deep welts and cuts that still marred her pretty face.

She felt his hand slide over hers and her breath caught in her throat. Not wanting to be caught off guard again, she looked down.

Legolas was having different thoughts. As his hand moved over hers, he could sense a great power within her. Her eyes held far too much strength for a woman. It was in this moment he could see her power as great as it was and as terrible as it could become. She had great determination in her, enough to quell even the stoutest hearts. With one glance, she could stop a war. Even with this strength and power he could feel her knowledge and her wisdom, gathered through her decades in this world. She was rather young looking for someone who had taken leadership twenty years before.

"Your hands are warm," she said softly and he turned his gaze to hers. She'd caught him staring, he realized as she pulled her hand back, cradling it. But before he could respond, his keen Elven ears picked up a distant horn.

"That is an Orc horn," she said, getting to her feet, still cradling her hand.

"They have picked up our trail," one of the Elves said, quickly hurrying forward. "We must make haste. They will overcome us by morning if we do not hasten."

Legolas turned to the woman to hurry her forward and saw her standing there, her golden hair blowing about her face, her eyes intense as she stared at the woods before them. "I feel them," she said softly. "There are great numbers there and strength besides. He's right," she added, her tone becoming crisp and matter-of-fact. "We must get the hell out of here. They're probably still pissed they found their stronghold empty except for a dozen or so bodies lying about."

Glancing at Legolas, he nodded and gave the orders to move out. After helping her onto the back of his horse, he mounted his steed behind her. Buffy lowered her gaze, feeling a slight flush creep on her cheeks as she realized she was actually touching this Elf. "You may rest," he breathed into her ear. "We must ride hard."

"Rest now, fight later, got it," she agreed, closing her eyes.

"Noro lim," Legolas whispered to his steed as she came about, tossing her magnificent head. Buffy held onto her mane for her dear life as the steed turned and took off after the others.

Her eyes veiled, she could feel their presence and knew in her heart they could sense hers. She was like a moth to the outdoors light. The Shadow hadn't been fully removed from her body. A part of remained, captured in her soul, and she could feel it drawing her deeper into a conflict she knew almost nothing about.

She had fought her fair share in this land. For twenty years and then some she had led them.

In all honesty, she had already given them all they needed to know.

- - - - -

In the next section, Buffy finally arrives in an Elvish city while Mauve finds her decision may forever change her life.

For those of you who appreciate battle scenes, there are some upcoming, I can assure you. It is rather fun to write scenes that don't exist instead of trying to reinvent the battle at Pelennor Fields over and over again.

Also, a very Happy New Year's to you all!