Journey's End
Pairings: There are book pairings.
Events: This fiction is one that follows the path of Rohan through the end of the War of the Ring. Beyond the end of the story, there are chapters concerning the first few years of the Fourth Age, after the passing of the Ringbearers into the West.
Disclaimer: J.R.R. Tolkien owns 'The Lord of the Rings' book series. Joss Whedon controls the world of Buffy. Peter Jackson and company own "The Lord of the Rings' films. We only own a part of the plot.
Summary: Buffy is summoned to fulfill an oath before she can rest in peace.
Chapter Summary: A seeing stone causes trouble for the group as they head back to Helm's Deep as Buffy begins to realize that her part in this world is bigger than she expected as she comes to the King's service.
Chapter Warning: It as a little bit of this and a little bit of that.
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Chapter 12
Seeing Stones
By Katrina Claire
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The sun was sinking behind the mountains when the company finally departed from Isengard. The Ents stood in their long line along the broken gates as the party continued their journey.
After nearly an hour of easy riding, Merry decided to speak up again. "How far are we riding tonight?" he asked, as the sun had now dipped far below the mountains, and the temperature was dropping quite rapidly. Buffy glanced at Shadowfax and his two riders curiously and secretly thanked the Hobbit for asking this question in her stead. "I don't know how you feel with small rag-tag companions dangling behind you, but this rag-tag is tired and wishes to lie down."
"So you heard that?" asked Gandalf, smiling slightly. "Don't let it get to your heads. In fact, I believe he has paid you a compliment, to think that you and Pippin were on his mind. Who you are, whether you were captured and how indeed you escaped while all of the Orcs perished… all of these are riddles that trouble the mind of Saruman. To feel need of his concern, this is a compliment undeniably."
"Some compliment," Buffy scoffed from the steed next to his. "Insults are more like it, and crappy ones at that. Didn't you say you've been here a long, long time? You'd think that for someone who has been here as long as you have been… he would've learned the art of comebacks by now." She glanced at Merry with a peculiar fondness in her eyes. "And you are so not a rag doll. Or… uh…"
"Thank you," Merry told both her and Gandalf. "It is a great honor to dangle at your tail, Gandalf! And it is an even higher honor to ride with one of your own. Tell me, mistress, are you one of the Istari?"
"Am I one of the huh?" Buffy asked, sounding confused.
"My order is an ancient order known as the Istari," Gandalf told her. "There were nine of us sent to Middle-earth, and five of us came to the northwestern part of this land, where we dwell now. Of the five of us, only three of us remain, sadly. Saruman is one of them, and Radagast was the other. Little is known of him and whether or not he still lives. He dwelt in Rhosgobel at the border of Mirkwood in times of old. The other two traveled to the east with Saruman, but Saruman alone returned. We do not know what has happened to them, for no one has had the time to tell."
"Oh," said Buffy, comprehending all of this. "How big is this Middle-earth exactly? So far, I've heard of the Shire, Rivendell, Lórien, Gondor, Rohan and Mirkwood. Is there more?"
"No one quite knows, except the Valar," Gandalf replied, as Merry listened intently to this conversation. "This is one discussion we need not get into now."
"Good," said Merry cheerfully. "Then perhaps I can ask my question for a second time. Are we riding far tonight?"
"A most curious hobbit you are, Meriadoc," Gandalf said with his sharp laugh. "Every wizard should have a hobbit or two. Alas, I beg your pardon. We will ride for a few hours gently and then halt. Tomorrow we must ride faster. When we came to Isengard, we meant to go straight to Edoras, but I fear our time has run its course. Messengers have gone ahead to send word to Helm's Deep, to warn the men their King is returning tomorrow. Their captains must be sent as the force of Rohan is gathered at the armory at Dunharrow. We will ride to Dunharrow after resting tomorrow at the Deep, and from there we must hasten to Gondor. But, from now on," he said, glancing at the Dagnir, who returned his intense look innocently, "no more than two or three together are to go openly over this land."
"I was only gone for like eight hours," Buffy said with a slight pout. She was really keen on getting back to this talk of the Istari.
"Did you ride off alone?" Merry asked her quietly; he had never seen a woman go into battle, and one going alone seemed almost unthinkable.
"No," Buffy said sternly, gazing at the Hobbit. "No… I went with a scouting party, and then we got separated."
"She took command of a leaderless legion of Rohirrim," Gandalf told Merry. "She fought rather well for her first true battle in this land."
"I'm afraid I don't know anything about this land," Merry said tragically. "This talk of Helm's Deep and Dunharrow and Edoras; I know none of this."
"And I will not be the one to tell you, for I have more pressing matters to discuss," Gandalf told Merry as they continued the ride onwards.
"Uh, Gandalf," Buffy said slowly, "I was going to ask about the Istari. How did you come into this world?"
"I was sent," Gandalf replied, looking puzzled at her question, "much in the same way that you were. I was from the house of Manwë and Varda. I was one of the Maiar, in essence a spirit who came to Middle-earth for the same purpose as you were. We were sent to train, advise, instruct, arouse the hearts and minds of the enemies of Sauron with resistance to the strengths of the Dark Lord." Gandalf paused a moment. "In a way, you have taken the same physical form as I have, and are in the service of the Valar."
"You mean the Powers, right?" Buffy asked.
"No," Gandalf replied, shaking his head. "The Valar is beyond the essence of what the Powers stand for. The Powers are the Maia, but the Valar are more. Like the Elves, the Valar are bound to Arda, the earth, until the end of time. The Powers as you know them stand to guide and in essence speak for the highest power, a deity of sorts. This is where your destiny is wrought, by the powers of the Valar."
"That sort of makes sense," Buffy said, although she was frowning. "I'm kind of confused about the whole Wizard thing, though."
"You are one of the Istari, in any course of action," Gandalf told her. "Even though you are not a wizard, your goals are the same as my own. There was a power beyond my own that bargained for your spirit to be brought into Middle-earth and for that, you are in my service."
"It makes more sense now," Buffy said, playing with Sador's saddle. "I get it. We're tools. The one thing I'm not so clear about is power. I have a hell of a lot of it, and I know you've got some incredible powers, but… you never use them, at least, not really."
"My role in this is not about the power I have," Gandalf replied heavily, "but rather the strength of my wisdom. You, young Dagnir, are a Slayer of demons, and your powers are much more useful. This would make you an Istari and yet it separates you from us. Your power is used for the protection, and with good reason."
Buffy didn't want to ask any more questions, since he'd just contradicted everything he'd said three minutes before. Instead, she shrugged. "I know that there's more power in me somewhere. Maybe someday I'll get to see it all, once this war is over. How many more battles are coming? We've won one."
"Yes, we have won," Gandalf replied. "But it was only the first victory and that in itself increases our danger. There is some link between Isengard and Mordor and I will have to sleep on it to discover the link. Sauron's retribution will be swift and his revenge will be great. He is ready to strike on the whim of a thought and if he does this soon, the world of mankind will fall."
"At least you're being optimistic about it," Buffy said, her voice full of cheery enthusiasm.
Buffy let Gandalf ride ahead and fell back behind Aragorn and Legolas and Gimli, who rode forward with Gandalf. Instead, she dropped back to ride next to Théoden. When they weren't discussing battle tactics or weaponry, they fell into uncomfortable lapses of awkward silence. Éomer was constantly riding on the other side and occasionally would speak up. It made for easy conversation, but the silences were drawn and full of tension and exhaustion, for they all knew the road ahead would be far beyond brutal.
At last they halted, Coming to a dale, they saw babbling brooks snaking down from fields of heather in the hills. Guards were set, two to a watch, and the men broke camp. Buffy stared at her unappetizing dinner and set the dish aside, glancing around. She saw the two Hobbits tackling Aragorn by the fire, and her gaze went to a few meters in the distance, where a brook spilled into a pond. Making up her mind, she undid her armor and dumped all of her weapons aside, taking with her only her axe. Taking a blanket from the pack on Sador's saddle, she darted into the darkness until she came to the pool. Hanging the blanket and her cloak around the pond on the thorn-bushes, she undressed and stepped into the cold water. Biting back a shriek of surprise, she submerged herself and then rose, her breath coming before her in thin bits of blue steam. She scrubbed away the tensions from Isengard and every last trace of Sador she could, considering tomorrow she could have a proper bath at Helm's Deep.
Finally, she rose from the water and toweled herself dry with the blanket. Then, replacing the blanket on the bushes around her, she wrapped herself snugly in her cloak before combing through her hair, enjoying the sweet scent of her Elvish soap. She was snapped out of her stupor by the sounds of laughter and voices nearby; the men had just received their meat for dinner and were spreading out to eat. Wrapping the damp blanket around her shoulders, she snatched her tunic and trousers and ran back to her own place in the camp, hastily folding her clothing and setting it aside with her boots before massaging her feet, damp from running through heather slick with fresh dew. There was the sound of loud laughter and singing, and with this the sounds of night came. Draping herself in a dry blanket, she lay upon the ground and closed her eyes, welcoming the sweet release of sleep.
She hadn't been asleep for more than two or three hours when her senses burst through her stupid dream of talking bowstrings and alerted her to something dangerous. Her eyes snapped open just as Pippin's terrified scream filled the camp. She leapt to her feet and tossed the ends of the blanket over her shoulders so that she could run from the hill where she slept towards a bright, fiery glow emanating from where she had last seen the Hobbits. She saw Gandalf rushing forward as the rest of the men charged closer. Gandalf tossed his traveling cloak over the shiny glass ball and pushed Merry aside as he knelt before Pippin.
Buffy caught Merry before he fell and wrapped a strong arm over his shoulders to prevent him from going closer. He struggled against her for a moment, but soon realized the strength of this woman was far greater than his own.
"Not yet," she said quietly once his feet were back on the ground. She released her arm, but her opposite hand still held tightly his arm. They edged closer just as Gandalf pulled back. Pippin let out a shuddering breath and looked around, taking sharp, rasping breaths.
"It is not for you, Saruman!" Pippin shrieked, trying to stand up, only Gandalf's hold held him where he rose. "I will send for it at once! Do you understand?" He seemed to come to himself as his eyes focused on the Wizard kneeling before him. "Gandalf?" he asked, and with this his face crumpled as a defeated young man. Buffy stepped into the light and released her hold on Merry completely as the other Hobbit dove onto the ground next to his friend. "Forgive me, Gandalf… I did not know…"
"Tell me first what you have seen," Gandalf said gently, taking the Hobbits hand. Seeing this as a private moment, Buffy stepped away, only to come face-to-face with the dozens of worried, drawn faces of the Rohirrim, an Elf, a Dwarf and a man.
"I took the ball and I looked at it," Pippin said in his tragic tone. "He… he came to me and he questioned me. He asked me why I had not reported for so long and asked me of my neglect. I didn't answer. He asked me my name, and again I couldn't answer. I told him I was a Hobbit, and he laughed."
Buffy felt her heart go out to this little Halfling. She kept her eyes on the small pile of robes which Gandalf had thrown to cover the ball.
"He hurt me," Pippin said, the haunted look alight in his eyes. "Gandalf… he gloated over me, as though I had been forced by the hand of Saruman to look into the ball. He told me that this dainty was not meant for Saruman and he would send for it at once."
Something in the Hobbit's voice sent chills down Buffy's back. She pulled away from the entire company and stood for a moment, staring to the east. Her senses had picked up more than a Halfling gazing into a forbidden orb. This had something to do with the consequence of this particular action. She heard Gandalf speaking to the others behind her and glanced at him, hoping that they were linked in mind enough to know she felt something he potentially could sense as well. This way, he could explain it and she would know and the world would be right again.
Then, to her ultimate surprise, Gandalf handed Aragorn the ball wrapped in his cloak.
"This is surely one of the palantír of Orthanc from the treasury of Elendil," Aragorn said, accepting the package with a slight bow of his head.
"It shall be given back to the one who will become the King," Gandalf replied. "But do not use it yet, for the time will come." Glancing up, his eyes stared at the stars for a moment before resting on the figure of his young Dagnir standing a few feet away, staring in the opposite direction with a troubled look on her face.
"At least we now know the link between Isengard and Mordor," Aragorn said, staring at the bundle in his hands. "This explains much."
"It's not enough," said a soft feminine voice. Buffy had returned to the circle, her eyes looking quite alarmed. "He knows that the Hobbits were there. He'll come for them. And we're just sitting here waiting to be picked off one by one."
"The Enemy, it is quite clear now, thought the stone has remained at Orthanc. Merilin is correct; Sauron will send for the Hobbit and we must take the time before he realizes this error. We must ride now, and ride hard," Gandalf said. Buffy, wearing nothing but her cloak and her blanket, retreated into the shadows to dress as Gandalf turned to the others.
"I will ride forward, and the rest of you will follow," Gandalf said urgently. "I will not be going alone."
"I will ride with you," Aragorn said quietly. "You could use my sword if the servant of Sauron comes."
"I will keep Éomer and ten riders with me," the King said calmly. "The rest may go with you and Aragorn, but of Merilin—"
"You speak as though she is one of your own," Aragorn commented.
"She is as good as one of my own kin," Théoden replied. "She has shown her loyalty to Rohan, and for this she is more than welcome in these lands."
"This decision will be her own," Gandalf replied quickly.
Buffy heard them talking about her as she pulled on her long tunic top and quickly laced her boots before stumbling back towards Gandalf and the others. He glanced at her and pulled her aside. "You know what I must ask of you," Gandalf said, leaning into her shoulder. "You remember our talk at Isengard this morn?"
"Yeah, I got that," Buffy replied, glancing at the Hobbits, now being shooed forward, "I'm with the crowned one, to the end if I have to be."
Gandalf pulled away and gave her a tense look. "It may be some time before we see one another again, Merilin. For all I know of you, that could be the end of your life. It has been quite an honor serving with someone of your dialect and stature, and I hope we have the chance to meet again."
"So do I," Buffy said, extending her hand, which Gandalf shook. "Go. Ride hard."
They both rushed from the shadows and wordlessly they gave their respective orders. Gandalf told the others to ride out while Buffy turned to speak with Théoden. Just as the other went to get underway, a shadow fell over the entire camp.
There was a hissing cry that made Buffy glance up in horror; for a moment, she thought it was Willow doing one of her black-mojo screams. Then she saw the beating wings and turned to stare at it.
"Nazgúl," the guard next to her moaned.
Several of the Riders cried out and fell to their knees, their hands covering their ears, their eyes full of terror as they glanced upwards. Buffy watched as the creature passed over them before she pulled her hand from the axe she'd tucked into Sador's saddle. The horse herself was restless and uneasy, something Buffy could attribute to, but it seemed to make their haste more necessary. She turned immediately to Gandalf and saw Aragorn pass the Wizard the little form of Pippin. She rushed forward as Aragorn met her.
"What's going on? What was that thing?" she asked as Aragorn pulled her aside as Shadowfax came charging out of the dark.
"One of the nine Dark riders," Aragorn told her, releasing her arm. "This is ill news, I fear."
"I felt it," Buffy said softly as she watched Gandalf mount his horse and then take Pippin into his arms. She charged forward and met with Gandalf.
"I ride now for Minas Tirith," he told her urgently. "You must make haste; send scouts ahead and make muster the Rohirrim. They must go to Gondor, for in this, our darkest hour, the great battle of our time awaits. I ride alone." He glanced at her apprehensive face and smiled slightly as he set his hand upon her shoulder. "They will need your strength before the end, Buffy. Do not despair, for it will not help our cause here. If the wish in your heart remains true, it will come upon a new day. I will see you again, Merilin, Dagnir of the other-world. Stay safe. Farewell."
With a last cry out to the others, he rode off into the night, passing like a silver shadow before he was swallowed by the growing twilight.
Buffy, once again, felt very much alone. Turning, she saw Aragorn standing there staring at her. Lowering her eyes, she quickly strode past him, but not before he muttered, "Get your things together; we will ride hard and fast."
She nodded and hurried to her encampment, pulling on her armor and her belt. She heard the King giving the order for all men to hasten as they would move out before the winged creature (had it really looked like a dragon? Were they real?). Yet it felt different than the last time Gandalf had left, leaving her alone in the middle of a group of strangers. They weren't all that strange to her anymore. She was actually on speaking terms with both the King and his First Marshal. The Elf and the Dwarf had already provided endless amusement for her and probably the rest within their camp. Not to mention Aragorn, who made a point to speak with her whenever there was something ill on his mind. She knew she didn't know much, but if she could sit there and nod enthusiastically with a few tempered 'uh-huhs' to help them better understand their given situation, she wasn't about to argue. They apparently thought of her as someone of intelligence, which was the first time anyone had looked at her like that, unless it was her Mother just because Buffy was her daughter or Giles because of her slaying capabilities. It was quite unusual, and she admired them for it.
One hour later, they were all ready to go, taking off at a brisk pace through the valleys. While the winged shadow had since passed, not one person spoke in their haste to get away should the foul creature return. Buffy rode beside Aragorn who had called her to him, looking as though he wanted to talk again. Talking while riding Sador rather quickly through the plains was more multitasking than Buffy really wanted to do, but she was game for the conversation. He wore a face that meant she wasn't going to like what she was about to hear.
"I must go to Minas Tirith by another road," he said to her as they rode in the vast darkness.
She had been right; this wasn't at all what she wanted to hear. "What?" she snapped irritably. "What do you mean you're going on another road? There are no roads here!"
"I know what Gandalf said to you," Aragorn replied in the air of someone not wanting an argument. "But the choice is yours alone."
Funny, she thought to herself, she didn't think she had much choice here. Ever since the eagle had brought her into an Elvish paradise, she'd been running, fighting, riding and waiting. Apparently this was all a pretense for two little Halflings carrying a cursed Ring of power into some dark, distant land to destroy it. At least Aragorn had given her a choice, and for the first time, as well.
They had only ridden for another hour when one of the rear guards came riding to the King, crying, "My lord! There are horses behind us, riding hard. They will overtake us quickly."
"Halt!" Théoden cried, and all of the company drew to a halt. As Aragorn rode forward to stand beside the King, Buffy turned Sador around and went to the end of the company. The riders she passed had all lifted their spears, their eyes full of suspicion.
There were the sounds of hooves and the slight movement of shapes in the distance. Buffy rode onward and wasn't surprised that the Marshal was there as well, his spear ready to fire should he need to use it. The number in the company pursuing couldn't be counted from this distance, but they didn't look to be much larger than the King's escort.
Once the group was fifty paces off, Éomer called out in his loud, clear tone, "Halt! Who rides in Rohan?"
The group came to a dead stop. Buffy could see one figure getting down from his horse and moving closer, his hands raised in a sign of peaceful surrender. He was very tall, like a standing shadow, and Buffy felt her own hand reach for the axe kept always jammed in the belt of Sador's harness.
And then a completely unfamiliar voice rang out. "Rohan? Rohan did you say? We have ridden long to find this land, and we have found it?"
"You have found it," Éomer replied, his eyes full of the same suspicion worn in the gazes of the other Riders. "When you crossed the fords, you have entered the Mark. Now, who are you? What need do you have of haste?"
"Or you could be a little less rude," Buffy said, speaking quickly as she rode forward, despite Éomer's mutter of frustration. "Hi, welcome to Rohan. I'm Merilin, or so they call me. And you are…?"
The man stared at her as though he'd never seen anything like her. "I am Halbarad Dúnadan, Ranger of the North," he said, blinking up at her, his voice ringing out clear over the entire valley. "We have come to seek one Aragorn, for we have heard he rides with the King of Rohan." He frowned as his voice dropped, gazing at the young woman sitting in Sador's saddle above him, her intense eyes probing his face. "I do not know you… are you from these lands?"
"And you have found him!" Aragorn said, cheerfully riding forward towards the group as Buffy turned towards this new Ranger.
"Nope, not from around here. And neither are you, obviously." That said, she backed off as Aragorn reached his kinsman and embraced him.
"Halbarad! Of all the joy!" Aragorn cried in relief as he pulled back from the Ranger as tall as he was. Turning back, he lifted his hand to the King. "All is well!" he called. "Here are some of my own kin from the distant land where I came from. But why they have come and how many they may be…"
Halbarad spoke up immediately. "I bring with me thirty Rangers, as many as could be found in such haste. But, the brethren of Elladan and Elrohir have ridden with us, desiring to go to war. We rode as swiftly as your summons came."
Something clicked in Buffy's head and she slapped her hand to her forehead as realization hit her like a thousand bricks. Gandalf had told her this was coming. Why it had slipped her mind, she wouldn't want to guess.
Aragorn had just replied that he hadn't summoned Halbarad, and the other Ranger was clearly telling him Aragorn had. Rolling her eyes, she rode back to the King's column, past a petulant Éomer and stood before the Hobbit standing on the ground, staring down at him.
"Come on," she said, pulling him onto her horse and taking the reins of Aragorn's steed. "You shouldn't have to stand around waiting all day while these guys play 'mine's bigger than yours'."
Their reunion was short-lived as Aragorn returned for his horse and rode onwards with the Rangers and two very fine folk that Buffy hadn't seen since she'd laid eyes on the Elves of Lórien. She rode with the King's company with Merry before her, and she finally told him what she was as they rode along in the darkness.
"You're… you're a real Slayer?" the Hobbit finally asked as the sun was starting to rise.
"Yup," Buffy said, a hint of pride in her voice. "One of the only ones, too. Dagnirs, I think Gandalf called them."
"We have heard of those!" Merry said cheerfully. "They have come from old legends and the tales of children long past. How did you come to this land?"
"I just… did," Buffy said, and the Hobbit started, craning his neck around to look up at her. When he saw there was no mirth or hint of amusement in her face, he took it for the truth. He heard her mutter something then about secret identities being completely screwed in this world and saying that if she was the only one, no one else should know about her.
"You really are something borne from a legend," Merry said, his voice filled with wonder.
"Yeah, I'm just a happening girl on a horse," Buffy said sarcastically as they finally crossed the Coomb, the Hornburg stretching in the distance. Once they had reached the Keep, Merry was swept away and Buffy left Sador in the hands of those inside the Keep. Taking her essentials with her, which included her weaponry, she made her way to the room she and Gimli had inhabited the last time they were there. It hadn't been four nights ago now. Stripping down to her worn tunic and trousers, she claimed her very last bar of Elvish soap and went to bathe.
After managing to get some new garments and a few bars of Rohirric soap (which didn't have the sweet smell the Elvish soap possessed but instead a tingling, pine-fresh scent), she returned to her room and nearly collapsed on the cot as the sun broke through the horizon.
She was awakened only a few hours later by someone prodding her side. Lifting her bleary eyes, she blinked up at Aragorn. "Can I help you?"
"Will you come with me?" he asked, his face stretched and worn. Grumbling about the lack of manners in this world, she dressed and walked into the corridors, now spilling out with bright light. Aragorn was there, and Halbarad beside him. It was her first glimpse of this Ranger and she liked what she saw. He was tall, broad and quite surly-looking and definitely looked like he knew what to do with a weapon.
"What is it?" she asked, turning her eyes back onto Aragorn.
He led her silently through the corridors and finally locked the three of them in the Citadel. As they passed through the doors, there were two identical figures on the outside, watching the passage in.
"See that no one comes through these doors," Aragorn told the two quietly and they nodded, their hands on the hilts of their swords. Once sealed inside, Buffy yawned as she watched Aragorn walk over to a table and lift up a bundled wrapping. Her eyes widened when she realized what it was.
"Is that what I think it is?" she asked, taking a few steps closer.
"It is," Halbarad said from beside her. He was holding what looked like a flagpole, but the flag was wrapped in thick black.
"I have spent hours thinking what must be done with this," Aragorn said, setting the bundle down again. "I will now ask you what you think."
"That's an evil ball, right?" Buffy asked slowly. Her experience with glowing balls was usually good, since the orb of Thessela could restore a soul, and other orbs had other healing powers as Willow had demonstrated countless times. "If you look into it, won't it hurt you?"
"You miss the point," Halbarad told her gently. "Aragorn is the rightful heir to Gondor, and as there are seven of these seeing stones, they belong to Gondor. Aragorn alone has the power to wrangle the stone to his own will."
"At what cost?" Buffy asked, turning to look at the other Ranger. "Aragorn… how bad would this hurt you?"
"The price is not too high to not be able to try," Aragorn replied quietly, pressing his thumb into his chin, apparently deep in thought. "The more Sauron knows about our front in this battle, the less he will suspect Frodo and Sam."
Buffy took a few more steps forward and placed her hand on the bundle. It stirred beneath her warm touch and even though it was covered, she could sense great evil emanating from the crystal. Withdrawing her hand, she turned to Aragorn, her gaze intense. "It's your choice and yours alone."
"I have both the right and the strength to master the stone," Aragorn replied, staring at the bundle hard again. "Or so I think."
"You have it," Buffy said quickly and he turned to look at her. Her gaze was ever so intense, burning right through him. "Quit acting like you think you know what's best for you and do something that'll change things," she said, a half-smile lighting her face. "You're supposed to be a King, right? I'd say do it for them."
"She is right," Halbarad agreed, nodding at the smaller woman before him. "She knows and she speaks from knowledge; this much I can read from her."
"This is not all that troubles my mind," Aragorn finally admitted, turning fully away from the stone.
"What is it?" Buffy asked, confused. "What bothers you?"
"It is a message brought to me from Elrond of Rivendell," Aragorn replied. "He brings word that I should remember the paths of the dead."
This was getting stranger by the minute.
"Care to elaborate?" she asked casually, folding her arms.
"There was once a group of men in the mountains," Aragorn said quietly. "They swore they would come to the aid of Gondor, but when Isilduir called for them, when Gondor's need was greatest, they fled. Isilduir, the King of Gondor, cursed them to remain in the mountains until they had fulfilled their pledge to him."
"That is why we carry this," Halbarad said, holding out his staff. Buffy took it and touched the black coverings, looking puzzled before handing it back.
"That's great and all, but what does this have to do with looking into the stone?" she asked curiously.
"It has much to do with the stone," Aragorn replied. "From the stone, I will be able to see the strength of Mordor. We will be able to determine if our enemy is strong, which we know it must be. We will know the time to strike, which is sooner than I fear we may have the time to gather our full strength."
"Rohan will be ready," Buffy said confidently. "I'm sure of it."
"That may be your position to ensure such," Halbarad said, "but do not expect anything. War has taken all of us before, as it will take us now."
"The dead men," Buffy said slowly, trying to comprehend this, "are they like an army of zombies?"
"More like an army of spirits," Halbarad said, wincing slightly, "yet no man has ever known, since they keep the road under the mountain. The dead do not suffer the living to pass. No one who has ventured there returned alive."
"I see your dilemma," Buffy said, leaning against the column and staring once again at the bundle. "I'll say it again: the choice is yours alone. If you feel like you can change the globe, do it. And if you feel like you have to take the paths of the dead zombie spirit-guides, we'll deal. We always do."
"I am glad you have come to my counsel," Aragorn said, bowing his head respectfully at her.
"I'm just glad I know what you were talking about," Buffy said, shrugging. "It's nice to be thought of as 'smart' for once."
"Are the tales true?" Halbarad asked her, as though he'd wanted to ask her this all along. "Is it true you are one of the Dagnir?"
"Yeah," Buffy said, smiling. "Mythical, legendary me. Welcome to my reality."
"This is a thing unheard of!" Halbarad said. "Not many have spoken of these women from the North. Where did you come from?"
"A little place in the future called California," Buffy replied sardonically. "I don't even know if it's this world or not… but it's about, oh, a million years ahead of here. There were cars and banks and ATM machines and Starbucks and those little marshmallow bits to stick in hot cocoa. Sort of like here but not."
She could tell the instant she closed her mouth that they couldn't understand a bit of it. Shrugging again, she countered, "Women have jobs, raise kids and have bank accounts all at the same time."
They exchanged a look and Buffy knew she wasn't going anywhere with this. She sighed and turned back to the bundle still sitting on the table. "So what are you going to do with that?" she asked.
Her question was answered abruptly as he lifted the bundle and cast away the cloak covering it.
Her eyes widened as she took a frenzied step backwards into the wall. "Oh," she said quietly.
It started burning a brilliant golden color as he held it, and suddenly a large eye appeared. Buffy, her senses telling her this wasn't going to be good, moved forward to wrench it from his hands, but Halbarad seized her and held her back.
"Wait," he said, as she struggled against him.
"It's hurting him!" she cried, seeing the look of intense pain and fear on the older Ranger's face. "Let… me… go!"
After a few seconds of tangled limbs and rather painful lunges into sturdy columns, Halbarad was on his back, his face twisted in pain and Buffy was on her feet, panting slightly, her eyes fixed on the glowing ball of fire now clasped in Aragorn's hand. Halbarad, grudgingly admitting that this woman was a rather fierce fighter, stood over her left shoulder to ensure she wouldn't do anything too stupid in case Aragorn's plan actually worked.
Aragorn opened his eyes again, and with a face lined with fatigue, he reached for his belt. Buffy let out a small moan as his sword came flashing into the light.
"This can't be good," Buffy groaned.
"I will not yield," Aragorn said, looking away from the ball as it glowed every brighter. Taking the sword as though he were grasping the last of his willpower, he turned and held the sword to the crystal globe. "Behold, the sword of Elendil!"
The flames burnt their brightest then, and even as his sword fell back to the ground, he fought the ball with everything he had. Buffy longed to step over and help him, but stood her ground in front of Halbarad.
At last, the ball darkened and he collapsed to his knees. Buffy quickly rushed to him, taking the ball from his hand and putting it on the floor while trying to keep the man upright. He looked up at her, tired and wary. "I saw her," he said, as though he were speaking to an apparition. "He showed me… he showed me… she was dead…"
"It was just a dream," Buffy said quietly, helping him to his feet. "You have to believe…"
Aragorn stared at the dark stone in front of him on the ground before lifting beleaguered eyes to Halbarad, who bowed his head slightly.
At that exact moment, there was a sharp knock upon the door. Buffy turned to it and glanced behind her; it was obvious neither one of them was going to move. Instead, she walked and opened it a small bit and stuck her head out. "What is it?" she asked.
"There is a summons for Aragorn," one of the figures replied. "They have asked him to come forth; the company of Rohan will soon be riding."
She turned and relayed the message before disappearing out into the light of day, wanting to give Aragorn some privacy. It was then that she noticed the two guards. They were Elves. She didn't comment on them, just moved quickly to the stairs. As she started down them, a figure was hurrying upstairs. She quickly threw herself into the wall to get out of the way, and his hand reached out to steady her.
It was Legolas, with the Dwarf rushing behind him, huffing, "Why does it always have to be the stairs?"
"Thanks," Buffy said, gently pulling herself away.
"Are you injured?" he asked lightly.
"Nope, I'm good. See?" she asked, knocking on her forehead with her fist. "Solid head."
Seeing the look of concern on his face, she nodded upstairs towards the Citadel. "He's up there…"
"Hannon le," he said, and he rushed off, the Dwarf deciding to not follow him and turning to look at the young woman's face instead. She looked as though she'd dreamt a thousand bad dreams and even more. He noticed her hesitation to go up or down and offered her a quick, yet witty, "Forget it, lass. It wasn't worth the effort."
Buffy gave him a short smile. "Depends on what I'm supposed to forget," she replied, before turning and walking downstairs. As soon as she reached the bottom, she saw Éomer standing at the entrance of the Burg, waiting for the rest of the company to come.
When he saw her, he turned to speak with her. "Where have you been? We sent up for you hours ago!"
"I was with Aragorn and the other guy in the tower," she said, pointing above them to the glittering black tower. "He… he had something he needed help with."
"Are you all right?" he asked her, taking her arm with such intensity she froze.
"I'm okay, fine, thank you," she said, pulling her arm away.
"We are set to ride soon. You'd best find your things," he said. She gave him a brief half-wave and went to do just that.
Once locked in the security of the small room, she leaned against the door and closed her eyes. In the past sixty hours, she had slept maybe five hours, and it was beginning to wear on her. She was still healing from her rather moderate injuries sustained from a battle three nights previously. It felt so quiet in this moment, so still. She could finally process everything that had been thrown at her for the past few days or the past few weeks, really. She was dead again, her hands could repel fire, people actually trusted her to make wise decisions because some old Wizard in white robes trusted her enough to make them and, all in all, she was actually starting to like these people. The one thing she wasn't about to get used to was the forty pounds of armor she kept yanking on, along with that ridiculous helm. The weapons were to her liking at the very least.
Buffy just wished she had a chance to rest. She longed for her bed back in Sunnydale, knowing it was probably buried under tons of rubble. She longed for anything besides the lumpy cot which had become her domain or else the cold ground which was hardly suitable for a lady. But then, she kept reminding herself, she was at war now. People expected her to be this strong person who could actually win battles, and she wasn't about to let them down.
She pushed herself from the door and gathered everything together. She came out of the Hornburg just as Aragorn did, looking only slightly better than he had just a half hour before. When he saw her, he moved towards her, despite the fact that the two Elves stood on either side of him. "Are you leaving?"
"I'm going with the King," she said solemnly. "See, there's this thing I promised the Powers. I'm not one to break promises. Besides, you've got your Elves, your Dwarf and your resident Rangers. You don't need a Slayer. They do."
"We do not know what we will find," Aragorn protested, pulling her away from the group to speak with her in private. "We could use someone of your skill."
"This is not a negotiation," she replied crisply. "If I had a choice, I'd stay dead for once. I tend to go where the action is, and since there's really no lack of it, I'm going where I'm needed the most. These people need me, and it's about time I accept the fact I'm here for as long as I'm supposed to be here for. The point is, this isn't a democracy. It's about time I learned how to follow." She sighed as she grasped her axe as the pain of the rejection from her family and friends just a month before (or else thousands of years ahead in the future) were still stinging and her grip tightened to the point she nearly snapped the cold wood in two. "Democracies don't win wars. Isn't that why you're going to be a King?"
He grasped her shoulder for a moment. "This makes my decision difficult, for I would most like to go into battle with you."
"It'd be nice to fight with a future king," Buffy said, smiling. "I wonder what it'd be like. Not like I haven't fought next to Théoden, but it's different. I'll be fighting on your land."
"It's the same as fighting next to a Ranger," Aragorn replied. "Now, come… Théoden has made his summons and there is a decision that must be made."
"Oh, if you're going to go into the lair of those evil zombie ghost-spirits or not," Buffy said, hurrying to catch up with him as he rejoined his group.
"Something to that effect, yes," he replied.
Éomer met them at the gate and nodded at each of them. When his eyes fell on her, his gaze softened as he pulled back. As one large group, they descended the causeway and walked onto the fields, where the King was already gathered with five hundred of his men.
"Here goes nothing," Buffy muttered as she stuck the end of her axe into the ground, waiting for Aragorn to speak his mind and make the decision that could make or break a war.
- - - - -
In the next part, the ride to Dunharrow is swift as Rohan prepares for the greatest battle of their time while Buffy attempts to comfort a heartbroken Éowyn on what may become the eve of battle.
As a parting note, this fiction is nearly half done!