I CAPTURE THE SUN
Pairings: Buffy/Legolas. I might as well point out that at this point, it will be eventual.
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: T, by the new fanfiction standards. There is a little blood and gore, but that is about it. It should be suitable for anyone who has ever read Tolkien or watched the show.
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. The story is currently twenty years and less before the start of the Fellowship.
Gratitudes: For those of you who still keep with this story, you have my eternal gratitude. I do promise a happy ending, despite how things seem now!
Renna – She will. She just has a few things to take care of before she can even consider going back. And I do promise that my updates will be more regular now.
Arrow-head water – Well, thank you. I will try and update faster, I will. And, yes, the Elf has every single intention of finding her. He has it within his warped, Elvish mind that she needs protection from whatever has taken her. As for cookies, well, yes please!
Sukera – why, thank you.
Honolulu – Oh, yes. Every relationship must go slow. If you push it too fast, it becomes unbelievable and just… well… you know what they say about new romances… they last until the newness is gone. The only reason why this happened was because I didn't want her stuck during the time of the Fellowship. In the original version of my story, she stayed put and ended up fighting in the Elvish battles. Well, I included the final Elvish battle, but the rest was scrapped when I decided that trying to make it believable was just far too hard. Thank you for your review.
Sparky24 – well, all I can say is that they don't have much time to speculate anymore considering the war has begun. I have changed a few things from the original story, but everything else is about where it was in the books. Buffy will re-enter the story following the final attack at the Morannon. And, yes, I have been there again and back. It was quite fun!
Torture of Persephone – Now I'm flattered. Thank you! I have these ideas from reading and then something will pop into my head and suddenly it is on paper. Honestly, as an editor, my job was to come up with new ideas to freshen things up. These were just the added bonuses. And there are more to come!
Heifer – I'm afraid they don't get into that wonderfully mushy feeling until closer to the end. I'm sorry, but to try and develop a relationship now when they are literally two worlds apart is not only impossible but improbable. They will be together again, that I can assure you.
Lorency – not a chance. Even if Legolas did, his father would remind his son of his everlasting faith in that evil woman who abandoned the Elves in their greatest time of need. That and absence makes the heart grow fonder. While many years have passed for Legolas, only a few weeks have passed for our dear Slayer. In a way, they are both adjusting to the absence.
FairyQuilan – I hope that that is a good 'okay' and not a bad 'okay'. The story does continue. There is not yet a 'completed' tab on it. And I'm still adjusting things at the end as more things pop into my head. Suffice it to say, there is still a lot of story left.
Delauro - well, thank you muchly!
Part Summary: Buffy faces life out of Middle-earth while Siri endures one disaster after another.
Notes: This was one of the hardest chapters to write, because do you go along with the episode or not? Buffy's friends are extremely dense after she returns from her Heavenly dimension. They should have seen that something was wrong when she wasn't all smiles and kittens. Because of how I thought Season 6 should have gone, I decided to include Tara in the insightful club. Enjoy the chapter.
x-x-x-x
Part XIV
x-x-x-x
It was still so cold, hours later. Even with Dawn standing beside her, a cloth wiping the dried blood from her face, she couldn't take her eyes off of her own reflection. She looked like a haunted heroine returning from a great war back to a family that knew nothing of such turmoil.
Dawn gently pulled the cloth away, watching Buffy's face carefully. Her sister was certainly acting strange, but that was to be expected. She turned and stuck the cloth under the icy water, watching as the bloody remains were rinsed down the sink. Buffy still hadn't said anything to her in the hour since they'd returned home. Sure, she'd looked around when Dawn had given her the grand tour, but other than that…
"Maybe… maybe we should look at this," Dawn said, reaching for Buffy's hand, but her sister recoiled, pulling her hand sharply away.
"We can worry about it later then," Dawn said in a soothing tone as she wrapped an arm around her sister's shoulders and led her out of the bathroom and into her old bedroom. Buffy felt her eyes narrow at the sharp contrast of colors that she had yet to get used to. "Are you okay?"
Buffy gave the smallest shake of her head. She didn't know where to begin in explaining how she wasn't okay. She would never be okay. This just wasn't normal. She attempted to draw in her breath and was about to ask a question when a loud bang from downstairs caused her to jump and turn around, looking in every direction. Dawn quickly reached over to stop Buffy from attacking something, quietly saying "Someone's here."
"Dawn! Dawn, are you there? DAWN!"
"It's just Spike," Dawn said, turning to Buffy, who was gazing at Dawn suspiciously now. There was a hard glint in her eyes that the younger Summers girl didn't quite understand. It was almost as though she had gained wisdom wherever she had been. But Hell wasn't supposed to teach its patrons how to be wise… was it? "I'll go… just… stay."
Buffy watched as Dawn slipped out the bedroom door before following, the door closing softly behind her. She let her hand drift along the smooth white walls, feeling the bumps and bulges in the material beneath her fingertips. She heard the argument downstairs as she placed her foot on top of the landing.
"Spike… look."
Buffy lifted her eyes in time to meet the steely gaze of a bleached figure gaping at her from the entryway. She paused, cradling her hand as the man shook his head in disbelief. "What did you do?"
"Me? I… I didn't do anything, I swear," Dawn said, turning to look at Buffy. Her gaze lacked pride though, and was more fearful as she suspected that Buffy wasn't altogether herself yet. "She's just… here."
"How?" this Spike asked, shaking his head as he moved towards her. "Her hands…"
"I don't know what happened to them," Dawn admitted, watching as Buffy pressed her hands together. She refused to make eye contact with either of them, but she was certainly aware that they couldn't take their eyes off of her.
"I do," Spike said sarcastically, stepping out of the way as Buffy stopped on the stairs in front of Dawn.
"How…" Dawn began, but Spike just rolled his eyes and reached for Buffy's arm to steer her off of the stairs.
"Clawed her way out of her grave, did she?" this Spike asked with disdain. "Well, we'll get those hands fixed up. Come on, pet." He gestured towards the living room and offered his hand towards her. Buffy gazed at it a moment before stepping around him. Dawn quickly mumbled something about collecting bandages and took off, wanting to leave Spike and Buffy in peace.
Buffy quickly sat down, her hands on her knees. Her brow was furrowed as though deep in concentration. Spike took in every line, every curve and every last blemish of her lovely face before leaning back in his chair. "You okay?"
She shook her head, not daring herself to look at him. "This isn't right," she said, more to herself than to him. "This isn't real."
"Whatever happened, happened for a reason, love," he said, leaning forward and lift her bloodied hand and inspect it. "Does this hurt?"
"Not supposed to," she said, her tone wooden. Her voice sounded so hollow and empty that Spike gazed at her, feeling confused. Why was she acting like none of this mattered? She had just reappeared back into their lives for no apparent reason and now…
"Well, don't worry," he said, taking the box of bandages and alcohol that Dawn had given him. "I'll have this bandaged for you in a moment."
Dawn stood anxiously behind them as Spike tended to Buffy's hand with the tenderest care.
"How long?" Buffy asked softly.
"One hundred and forty seven days," Spike said, glancing up at her as he gently sponged her hand. "One hundred and forty eight today, but I don't think today counts." He paused before looking at her carefully blank face again. "How long was it for you?"
Thirty years, she inwardly replied. "Longer."
"Was it… bad?" Spike asked.
She shook her head. "No," she replied. "It was not."
Before Spike or Dawn could ask her what she meant, the door burst open and Xander, Anya, Willow and Tara stormed in, all of them asking questions and all of their words tumbling over one another. Spike gave Dawn a look of deep disgust before rising and stalking out of the house. Buffy remained where she was, staring forward. Dawn saw her sister relapse from the small conversation she had been able to make and turned to face the four now firing question after question at the silent Slayer. "Guys, chill," she pleaded, her hands at her sides. "She's not going to answer your questions if you act like psychos."
"The Wizard," Buffy murmured. Dawn felt her head snap around as she gazed at her sister. "The Wizard did this to me."
"Uh, Buffy?" Willow asked, stepping forward. "There are no Wizards here."
"The eye," Buffy said, her gaze hardening as her lips trembled. "It burns…"
Dawn felt tears spring to her eyes and pressed a hand to her mouth. Oh, dear God, what had they done? She was making the sort of sense Drusilla usually did. But Buffy seemed to close her eyes and regain her composure. The fearful look on her face dissipated and she stood up abruptly, glancing at them all. But she wasn't smiling. Her gaze was level and empty.
"Get some sleep, Buffy," Tara said. Dawn was secretly relieved for Tara's kind words. If Xander or Anya had stepped in, her sister could have suffered a complete mental breakdown. "You'll feel better in the morning."
"Oh," was all Buffy said before she disappeared again.
After they heard the soft click of her door upstairs, Dawn turned on Willow. "What did you do?" she asked, her voice rising angrily. "What did you do to my sister? Why is she acting like that? Why is she acting like she doesn't care?"
"She's not, sweetie," Tara said comfortingly.
"Like hell she's not," Anya replied angrily, glaring at Willow. "Something happened. Dawn's right. She came back wrong! This isn't the Buffy we knew!"
"I know that," Willow snapped. "But she's been somewhere… I don't know where, but it must have been awful!"
Tara gazed upstairs as Willow sat down, looking almost miserable. She sensed something else, something deeper. And she had a feeling it was anything but awful.
Buffy let her head fall onto the door, breathing deeply. She knew they didn't trust her. The only people who trusted her were her own people. It was hard to believe that at one point in her life, these were her people, too. She reached behind to rub her neck as she moved towards her bed. Unbuttoning her shirt took an unbelievably long time. With a small cry, she flung the offensive fabric onto the floor and kicked it away from her. Reaching behind her to find the snag that had made the shirt even harder to get off, she returned with a small clip in her hand.
All at once, she knew that this had to be a nightmare. Opening her hand, she spied an Elvish clip, beautiful in craft and design. She lifted the small clip and felt tears spring to her eyes as the small clip reflected the dim light from the overhead spot.
Taking the clip, she secured it into her top nightstand drawer for safekeeping. Even if she never saw that world again for the rest of her life, she knew she would always have a piece that had remained behind.
x-x-x
MistyMountains
Winter of 3013
Their journey home had been one standing disappointment after another.
Siri stood alone over the crest of a hill, watching as the sun began to rise. It was a bitter moment, she thought to herself. She had once looked to the sun for comfort. Now she thought that it was mocking her in her complete foolishness.
How could she have been so utterly, wholly wrong?
Their journey had been brutal over the Misty Mountains, taking many months to cross the highest peaks before returning for a rather harsh valley winter. Many of the elderly had perished, but not before a new Council was created with Mauve at the head. She and Siri worked tirelessly to return to the myth they had believed was their home.
What they found was something else entirely.
Oh, they had their lands, but there were no princes to welcome them home. There was little fanfare. There was really little of anything other than nomadic villages and scattered cattle. Siri, being their leader, couldn't allow herself to show her disillusionment. How could they have been so blinded? They were a proud people only because of the sacrifices made by their rulers. Apparently these scattered people were allied with the White Wizard Saruman. Siri had heard little of him, but knew that Buffy along with the Elves had not trusted him. She soon discovered the truth as to why.
Their people were short and squat, living off of the spoils from the country to the south. They were exceedingly arrogant and barbaric. They lived to destroy and plunder their neighbors to the south, claiming that they had the rights to the land. In other words, they were little more than common thieves. Siri's encampment, sickened with the long winter and with a rather stringent disease, had been their first plunder in quite some time. Siri reached bitterly for her crown, recalling the lives of the women lost because they had gone after the thieves. Though armed only with pick-axes and shovels, they had wiped out twelve of the Amazons before Siri had realized her crown was missing. There was a lot of blood on her hands, and it made their homecoming all the worse.
The worst part was the truth. One of their leaders, a rather portly figure who looked more like a Dwarf than a common man, had laughed with his bitter alcoholic breath in their faces. Their so-called prince hadn't been a prince at all. He had rather been the youngest brother of a man who named himself King after Helm Hammerhand of Rohan and, when he thought that he was doomed, he took his people and ran. He was presumed dead after three months and the entire group that had traveled with him had been labeled as traitors of Dunland. Siri was astonished to know that she wasn't royalty after all, but the descendant of a coward and a thief. Even her own pride couldn't keep the sadness from her face as she turned out of the tent, the laughter of the drunken bastards following behind her.
Having to tell her people the truth had been the hardest pill to swallow. Mauve had been exceedingly strong as always. She was approaching her elder years and had married during their journey south. It had been one of the brightest moments in a series of small, priceless reminders that these people still had something left to live for. Buffy had warned them that they wouldn't like what they found. She had found herself with child during the ride over the far side of the mountains. They had come across a few villages of people, scattered, lost and hopeless. Upon seeing the strong band of warriors making their way to their so-called homeland, the villagers had immediately aligned themselves with Siri's group. Their leader, a man known only as Jarron, had asked Siri to wed him only to unite their two different races. With Jarron and his rather impressive amount of males, the Amazons found themselves with more options. There had been a few weddings along the way. Even Daire had agreed to marry the younger nephew of Jarron once the war that her former leader had spoken of was over.
Along with her husband Jarron and her two small sons, Siri prepared to face their growing numbers. Once a decision was made, it would be up to the Council to decide whether to move south into Rohan, something that was against this Saruman's wishes, or to return through the Misty Mountains in the attempt to reach the Mirkwood Forest. She was going to have to tell her surrogate mother that they had failed to find what they had been looking for. Buffy had always been a strong leader, optimistic at best that her people knew what they were doing. Along with the emergence of a new Amazon force after a journey that had lasted more than three years, Siri's forces now neared one thousand.
The Council's decision had been unanimous. Saruman was a powerful Wizard in his rights and if he had the allegiance of these Dunlanders, it would seem that the Dunlanders would turn on their own kin to prevent them from allying themselves with the Rohan, their greatest enemy. Even the idiotic leader of the Dunland village they had come across had pointed that out to Siri. The Rohirrim were their enemies, too. Siri had no choice but to agree. They were to return to the Mirkwood and settle outside of the forest in the north of the valley. Jarron and Siri prepared to lead their people back. The journey to the mountains had been wrought with disaster after disaster. The Dunlanders, realizing that these people thought they were better than their own kin, attacked Siri's forces on a daily basis. Alwyn and Mauve, both now nearly fifty, fought side by side to prevent the Dunlanders from destroying all that Buffy had worked so hard to maintain. Daire had led another force to the north to seek survivors of a rumored settlement. All they found were gravestones and the burnt-out remainders of the villages that Dunland had destroyed during their vengeance.
Daire was sickened to think that this Wizard had such a hold over their own people. They were nothing like the Dunlanders. For one, only Buffy was short but squat she was not. What they had found was another ragtag band of leaderless souls who were looking for answers to all of the death and destruction. Daire had managed to convince most of them that a resettlement was the only way to ensure their survival. However, before they had returned to Siri's camp, the Dunlanders attacked. To make matters worse, it had been a trap all along. The only thing that saved Daire and her women from certain annihilation was the return of the real settlers. After managing to fight most of the nomadic tribe off, Daire and the other group managed to escape.
The road over the mountains was treacherous. They had all heard of the doorway under the mountain leading to the old Dwarfish mines of Moria. Not one of the Council members voted to pass beneath the mountains, but forced themselves to go over the mountains.
The only hope they had was the hope that they would one day be reunited with their former queen. She was the reason why they were different from their barbaric kin. Buffy was the reason why Saruman had not poisoned their minds against what little good remained in this world.
They had finally started the downwards slope when Siri chose to watch the sunrise this morn. She was only shaken from her stupor by her eldest son, a boy of three who called himself Erador. "Momma?" he asked, pulling on the hem of her well-worn cloak.
"Hello, there," she said, turning and scooping her son into her arms. With the child so close to her heart, she had a small idea how it felt for Buffy to consider both she and Daire as her daughters. "What can I do for you?"
The boy indicated his mouth and then his hand drifted down to his stomach. He was hungry. She knew this. There was little food and water to go around considering their numbers had tripled since leaving the last Dunland village. Their only hope was the Anduin, and she prayed that the Nazgûl had decided to leave Buffy alone. They really needed provisions in order to sustain their numbers or else disease would soon set in. The thought of losing Jarron or one of her sons was devastating to her. "I'm sorry," she said, gently caressing her child's face. "We need to get back to the camp before your father worries." Turning, she carried Erador back to the camp.
Jarron was waiting for her, along with their youngest son, a boy of only fourteen months known as Tobias. "The others are preparing to depart," he informed her. "I have sent a scouting party over the ridge yonder," he added, pointing out a smoke-covered cliff in the distance, "but little hope remains for such provisions to be found. There is simply no food."
"The Orcs had made certain of that," Siri said bitterly. "They have chased away all the game."
"It is likely they have killed more than they chase," Jarron said darkly. "We have little choice but to resume our journey with no rest."
"To do so would lead to certain death," Siri said angrily, returning Erador to his father's arms. "I have not led my people for years to have them suffer and die from starvation! We will cross these mountains and we will see the trees of the Mirkwood again. I will see my mother again."
Jarron leaned over and gently pressed a cold hand to her determined face. "I hope you are correct," he said softly. "Our people have suffered more than we could have imagined. To know that there is hope…"
"Hope remains while the company is true," she said, smiling up at him. Jarron leaned down and rested his forehead against that of his wife's.
"You are wise, my love," he said deeply. "You are far too wise for a man of my age to endure."
"Just wait until you meet my mother," she said, a hint of pride in her voice. "Her allegiance with the Elves will help us."
"You never spoke of such allegiance," he said, as she stepped away from him to gather cloaks for their small sons.
"It is likely that she has become betrothed to the Mirkwood Prince," Siri said with a fond smile. "I could foresee this."
Before Jarron could speak again, Daire approached, wearing her cloak around her neck and face to block the cold northern winds. "We must move on!" she shouted as a great gust swept through their encampment. Siri quickly turned her back to the cold wind while Jarron spun about, protecting his sons with his own body heat. "We have little choice. The Council has already begun."
"Then break camp," Siri said to her cousin before exchanging a dark look with Jarron.
"I will scout ahead," Daire said, pulling her cloak to cover her face as the snow and ice whipped up around their legs, their long skirts flying in the jagged breeze.
"It's far too dangerous," Siri said, her voice dropping as the winds seemed to abate. "I cannot let you go alone."
"Mother trusted me enough to go alone!" Daire shot back. "You were the one who refused to believe in her. You were the one that got us here!"
Siri straightened, her lips tightening. As she met Daire's challenging glare, she felt the blood rush into her cheeks. "I will not allow this to happen," she said, her voice rising. "I will not allow this situation to tear our people apart!"
"You believed in utopia so much that more than a third of our people died to see it," Daire said, stepping closer to her cousin. "This was your error, not hers. You were reluctant to return to the Mirkwood because you feared that she would be in a greater position of power. We need that power, Siri. We are a dying people. There may be many of us, but look at the Amazons. They are frightened about what lies beyond tomorrow. They have been to the very depths of hell and back because you wanted to believe everything that your father spoke."
"Your father told the same lies and believed in the same deceptions," Siri snapped. "This is no error of my father's."
"Your father was the prince," Daire replied, shaking her head as another wind gust swept through the camp. "How much have we paid for his truth, daughter of Edrae? How much more can we pay?" Turning, she stalked off, but not before Siri captured her arm.
"Do not go alone," she said in a low, worried tone. "Take Alwyn with you. If you come against any Orcs, two bowmen are better than one."
Daire slowly nodded in agreement before turning and disappearing.
By the time the entire encampment continued their way down the icy path, Daire and Alwyn had already ridden several miles head down another steep slope and towards another ridge. As they crossed the snowy line, they gazed at the string of mountains in the distance.
"We will never make it alive," Alwyn admitted to Daire as they stood there on their sheltered horses, watching another storm spiral in from the east. "We must send for help. The Elves will send food and water and possibly protection from the Orcs that remain in the valleys and shadows."
"Buffy always trusted the Orcs," Daire replied, shaking her fair head, raven hair falling into her eyes. Letting out a long breath, she gave Alwyn a sideways glance. "Did the Council request that you ask this of me?"
"It was asked of both of us," Alwyn replied, turning her steed slightly to get it out of the wind. "The Elves surely guard their borders. We need assistance or every one of our people will die in vain."
"I understand," Daire said, glancing back up the hill they had just climbed down. Her hair whipped around her face as she thought of her fiancée, miles behind with the rest of his family.
"Decide quickly," Alwyn said sternly, gesturing to the snow already falling over the next peak. "It seems we will have little choice but to take shelter should this next storm come."
"Then we'll go," Daire replied easily. Alwyn gave her a stunned look. "My mother was the only one strong enough to protect us. Few of us died under her care once the plague had passed. My parents may have died but Buffy was the only mother I ever knew. If she remains in that forest under the protection and allegiance of the Mirkwood Elves, then she alone will be able to protect us."
"Let us go," Alwyn said, turning her horse, which bucked slightly under the pressure and thought of heading steadfast into another storm. "Or we will have naught but our own selves to save should our people perish as we try!"
Together, the two rode quickly towards the icy stretch of the next hill. As they passed the remnants of a forest torn down by the Orcs, they saw their first ray of hope in many days. The sun was cold above their heads, but the Anduin gleamed like silver in the far distance. "Hope is kindled," Alwyn said, a smile passing her frostbitten face. Daire, barely alive underneath layers of horse blankets and cloaks, barely glanced at the other woman.
As they continued to make their way towards the Anduin, Siri and the others were trapped in the storm and forced to build shelters from the heavy depths of snow in order to ensure their survival. Once she returned to her own tent, Mauve was waiting for her. Now considered the eldest of their people, she was very cross when she came across Siri. "Your cousin has yet to return from the scouting party from yesterday," she said after crouching down to warm her frozen hands near a small blaze in the center of their igloo-like hut. Jarron was in the corner, trying to convince young Tobias and Erador to rest. "She was to return this morn."
"It is likely that she sought shelter from this same storm," Siri replied, rising and carefully unwrapping her cloak from around her head. "Do not worry for my cousin. She is a survivor."
"I hope so, for your sake," Mauve replied, then bowed her head and left the structure. Turning, Siri saw that both of her boys were becoming fussy.
"Let me," she said, resting her cold hand on Jarron's head before the man turned to tend to the fire. Tobias looked at her and let out a small wail which filled their icy house. "My mother used to sing me a song," she said, her lips trembling from the cold. She could hear the sounds of the ice cracking from outside of these thin walls and could feel the intensity of the blizzard's winds through the roof. Small bits of frost seemed to settle around them. "And then the night she died, Buffy sang the song to me and it brought me great comfort." Bending down, she stroked her son's face and glanced at Erador's curious eyes. "I wish to teach it to you in the hopes that someday the song will carry through the ages." Pursing her lips against the bitter cold, she bent down until she was lying between her sons and pulled them to her, wrapping her cloak tightly about them.
"Across the mountains, our land is calling… our people waiting… we are longing… to take the path… to carry us home… we will go home… we will go home…" Even as these words faded from her voice, she was forced to blink back tears which threatened to freeze to her cheeks. She could barely hold in the sob which threatened to break her harsh control, the self-control she'd spent years forcing into hibernation. It was funny the damage a silly child's song could do. Feeling a warm hand on her cheek, she glanced at Erador and saw his curious hazel eyes as he touched his mother's cold face.
"Momma?" he asked curiously.
"I'm okay," she whispered, gently smoothing his hair before setting her hand to his face. "Really, son. I'm okay."
Turning her face away from her son, she continued to hum the melody beneath her breath. Soon she felt the strong, steady breathing of her son next to her. Tobias had been asleep for some time now and, for a moment, the world was at peace.
And then the next gust of wind struck, forcing bits of ice and snow to land around them. The fire hissed as the water came into contact with it, sending up plumes of grayish-white smoke. Turning slightly, she managed to sit up and leave her sons alone. Jarron was in the opposite corner, his hands close to the fire. But his eyes were on her.
"What is that song?" he asked curiously.
"My mother taught it to me," Siri replied, joining him. He lifted an arm and she tucked herself beneath it, letting out a long, heavy sigh.
"It is very melodious," he replied.
"That's what I always thought," Siri laughed, glancing down at her hands. Lifting her head, she began singing softly again. "In the silver light, I can feel them calling… they're taking me back… where I belong…"
x-x-x
Sunnydale
November 2000
Even in her dreams, Buffy could feel the presence. It was a voice, and it was singing. It was a familiar song, one that Edrae had annoyed her beyond all hope in singing day after day after day. Buffy had eventually picked up on it, though. And it didn't help that she seriously considered having it translated into Elvish just so she could annoy the Elves to no end by singing that song day after day after day. It would have been the perfect revenge.
But something wasn't right. In her mind, she saw a sharp hint of flames before a figure screaming. Bursting out of her stupor, Buffy sat up sharply, gasping "Siri!"
She was greeted by silence.
It took her a full minute to realize that she had stopped breathing. Sucking in the life-saving oxygen, she felt her heart start to pound and lifted her hands to push her damp hair off of her forehead. Less than twelve hours out of Middle-earth and she was dreaming about her children again.
There was a soft click near her left elbow. The small light came on and flooded the room with a warm, gentle light. Buffy moved her hands to glance at the person standing nearest her bedside.
It was Tara.
The other woman moved slowly towards Buffy and sat down beside her. Buffy stared at her a moment in disbelief, but there was something honest in Tara's face, something that Buffy felt she could trust. Tara would never mislead her.
"I know that it wasn't hell," Tara finally said after a moment of awkward silence. "But it wasn't Heaven, either."
"It was both," Buffy replied. She collapsed against her pillows, breathing deeply. "You have no idea what I have been through."
"I can sense the conflict within you," Tara replied.
"Didn't know you were a Jedi," came the blasé response from the covers.
"We were wrong."
Buffy slowly lowered her covers to look at the other woman. "Excuse me?"
"Willow thought that you were in hell and wanted to bring you back," Tara replied. "It had nothing to do with those demons. They would have destroyed each other in the end."
Buffy was staring at her now with a mixture of alarm and amazement. "Now you're scaring me," she said as she sat up, gaping at the other woman. "What exactly did you sense?"
"There were very strong connections," Tara replied. "It had to be longer than five months."
"Try thirty years," Buffy replied solemnly. Tara's eyes widened as Buffy admitted this; she'd had no idea it would even be close to that long. A year, maybe, but thirty?
"What sort of…" Tara began.
"You wouldn't understand," Buffy replied, shaking her head angrily. "No one can understand."
"There is one who can," Tara replied. Now it was Buffy's turn to look surprised. "Willow called Angel tonight to tell him that you were alive. She also mentioned that there was a… err… some sort of demon that can read people's… souls."
"So basically this demon will tell me that I don't belong here?" Buffy quipped, rolling her eyes.
"You died saving our world," Tara said forcefully. "We had no right to take you away from saving another. Wherever you were, there was something there that tied you."
"There was," Buffy said. Reaching over, she opened her nightstand and removed the Elvish clip. "Here it is."
Tara held up the small clip and smiled. "It's beautiful."
"So is the person who gave it to me," Buffy honestly admitted as she rested again. "But…"
"Angel wants to see you," Tara replied without looking at her. "He said that he'll see you when you're ready." She slowly turned and Buffy felt those blue eyes bury themselves into her, as though glancing into her soul. The only person who had ever had that sort of insight was Strider and this was almost frightening. Tara wasn't of the Eldar. She truly shouldn't be like this. "I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to be sorry about," Buffy stammered, watching as Tara stood up, gently setting the clasp at the base of the lamp before shutting it off, plunging the room into darkness.
"You have no idea how much we missed you," Tara said, turning to leave the room. "And maybe we'll never know what sacrifices you made to come back, but I know now that it was the wrong thing to do."
"They can never know," Buffy said in a hollow voice. "Even if I never get back there, they can never know how complete I was."
"And they never will," Tara replied, giving her a brief smile. "Get some sleep, Buffy. And try to dream of happier times."
As the door closed and sealed, Buffy relaxed back against her pillow. It took her a foggy moment before she realized that she was holding her breath again. Then, softly, she heard "In the silver light, I can feel them calling… they're taking me back… where I belong…"
Turning onto her opposite side, she stared out into the darkness. She could hear them calling, all right. But she had no idea how to answer in return.
x-x-x-x
In the next part, Buffy turns to an old friend to help her see where to go from there while the last Great War begins in Middle-earth. The battle for life is over, but the race against time has begun.