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.
In Gratitude: See, this chapter did not take a month to be posted. I think this too is one of my favorites, because sometimes Buffy is forced to do something against her will and this is one of those cases. Thank you for your reviews! It means a lot that you have not given up on this story, because I fully intend to post it all! Yes, the past chapter was mostly filler, but it was necessary to advance the story. That and Merry is Trina's favorite character (not to mention she is completely obsessed over the actor who portrayed him in the films) and she wanted to write his Houses scene. This chapter and the accompanying are the last two before the group moves onto their last and final battle.
Many thanks to those of you who reviewed the previous chapter; I hope you enjoy its' conclusion.
Greenleaf: You deserve your own section because you have reviewed multiple times. Buffy is called Merilin only because it fits more with the world she is now investing her time and energy in. You will see her become more "Buffy" than "Merilin" as time continues onwards, because nearly everyone will be calling her "Buffy" by the time the story comes to an end. As for who she falls for, this story originally had no pairing but in the end it was decided that we would pair her with someone and it is someone she is normally not paired with. The Elves are beautiful creatures, are they not? I prefer a Glorfindel or a young Elrond myself, but the Third Age Elves are also quite pretty. I think this chapter was a huge hint about who Buffy will be paired with. We originally considered two characters and they both displayed their affection in this chapter, but only one was acknowledged as genuine affection. The weird thing over Éomer's name is an accent. It is well-known in the books and I intended to keep it that way. The same symbol is over the 'e' in both Éowyn and Éored (in other words, a battalion of Rohirrim). I will answer your other inquiries in the next chapter.
Chapter Summary: Buffy begins to realize that her journey may be coming to an end as she confides in the one person she can.
Chapter Warning: I felt as though Peter Jackson and the other movie people left out the Houses of Healing part. That is the only reason this is a two-part sequence. This is also from the book and from our imagination.
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Chapter 18
Healing
By Katrina Claire
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Aragorn had just left Faramir's room when there was the sound of a minor scuffle along with a shriek that carried through the narrow passageways. Both King Éomer and Prince Imrahil turned at the sound, but Aragorn's mind was focused on Éowyn alone, in her own private corner of the Houses of Healing.
"Will you not take rest?" Éomer asked, most concerned that Aragorn would soon tire and not be able to heal all of those who had fallen ill. He was torn between the concern for his sister and his friend's health and well-being.
"Nay," Aragorn replied as he looked in upon the sleeping Éowyn. "If I took rest now, surely your sister would pass. Come," he said, gesturing to the young boy carrying the basket of kingsfoil with him. "Haste is needed."
They walked into the Lady Éowyn's room, joined by Gandalf only moments later. He looked slightly bemused but his face sobered the instant his eyes took in the frailty of Éowyn's body. She seemed to have fallen into an even deeper sleep, if that were at all possible.
"Where have you been?" Aragorn asked, taking his seat next to Éowyn, his hand gently cradling her cool, pale cheek.
"I had an errand to see to," Gandalf replied in a heavy tone, watching as Aragorn continued his work.
Aragorn didn't reply to him. Instead, his intent was focused upon the Lady, who didn't stir in the least at his warm touch. "Here there is grievous hurt and a heavy blow. Her arm has been tended with due skill and the break will mend with time, if only she has the strength to live."
"Would she not have such strength?" the Prince asked quietly, gazing upon the young woman. He had not yet seen the other in their numbers, but from what he could tell, the women of Rohan carried with them both strength and courage.
"Alas," Aragorn said in his somber tone, "for she has been pitted against a foe far beyond the strength of her mind and body. To those who would take a weapon against such a foe must be as strong in mind as steel. It was an evil doom that set her in this path. If only the other could have been there. She is of due mind and strength to take on such darkness, but we cannot belay that which has already come to pass. For Éowyn is a fair maiden, and I know not how to look upon her. When I first looked upon her and saw her unhappiness, it seemed to me she was a standing white flower whose sap had turned to bitter ice soon to wither away and die. Her malady began before this day," he continued, averting his gaze as he half-turned to face the newly-stated King behind him, "did it not?"
"I do not know why you ask me, lord," Éomer said, sounding concerned and understandably beguiled. "You are not to blame in this matter. I knew not of this… this frost and I certainly knew none of her concerns. Care and dread she had, and shared with me, during the time of Wormtongue and the King's bewitchment. She tended to her King in growing fear. But that would not bring her to this!"
"My friend," Gandalf spoke up, leaning heavily upon his staff, "you had your deeds and your fields to tend to. Your sister tended to her king, alone and abandoned, or so she thought, in fear that it would forever be this way. She was born in body a woman, but she has a spirit and courage at least the match of yours. She was doomed to wait upon an old man she loved as a father and was destined to fade away, ignoble and unwanted.
"Think you that Wormtongue had poison for only Théoden's ears? She endured such words with her spirit in the hopes that someday she would rise above it. When Merilin first came to Meduseld, she was given her chance to realize that she was not a maiden of ice, but a maiden of steel. Her blood runs thick with the spirit of her ancestors, as does yours. My lord, if your sister's love for you, and her will still bent to her duty, had not restrained her lips, you might have heard dark words escape them. But who knows what she spoke in the bitter watches of the night?" Pausing, Gandalf shook his head. "It was her love for you and for her Uncle, a man she deemed her father, which held her to her will. You, above all others, does she love, Éomer."
Éomer stood silently beside his sister's side, watching her quiet face and fearing what would happen should she fade away. He pondered their past life together, as children with their mother and father and later on with their Uncle after the death of their father.
Aragorn, quietly watching Éomer, spoke up. "I saw also what you saw, Éomer. Few other griefs amid ill chances of this world have more bitterness and shame for a man's heart to know that he cannot return the love of a lady. I have felt sorrow and pity since I left her at Dunharrow and not even in my darkest dreams would I even believe she would be here at this time. And yet, she loves you more truly than me, for you she loves and knows. She only sees within me a shadow and a thought, a hope of glory and great deeds and lands far from the fields of Rohan."
He turned back to look at Éowyn and looked into her face. "I have the power to heal her body and to recall her mind. But to what she will awake: hope, forgetfulness or despair, I do not yet know. If she awakens to despair, she will likely die unless there is another way to heal such a curse."
"It would be a great pity," Gandalf said, moving closer as Aragorn bent down to touch her cold face. "She has shown her standard and her deeds have set her among the queens of great renown."
Aragorn said nothing as he bent down to kiss her brow and called her softly. "Éowyn! Éowyn, awake! Your enemy has passed away."
She did not stir, but her chest began to fall and rise more rapidly under the white linen sheet. "She breathes easier," the Prince said in astonishment, watching as Aragorn turned to take two leaves of athelas and cast them into steaming water. He laved her brow with it and her right arm lying cold and nerveless atop the covers. And then, whether it by his will or not, a small wind seemed to be cast from the room and blew through the window. It bore no scent, but was an air wholly fresh, clean and young.
Reaching for her hand, Aragorn attempted to call Éowyn out of her dark dreams once more. "Awake, Lady of Rohan," he said, feeling the warmth of life returning through the touch of her skin. "Awake! The shadow is gone and all darkness is washed away!"
Then, to the surprise of all standing about him, Aragorn handed Éomer the hand of his sister. "Call to her," he said quietly. "You are the one she knows!"
As Éomer took Éowyn's hand in his own, Aragorn passed quietly from the chamber. Casting a lingering look at Éomer and the emotions spreading across the young man's face, he soon followed the Ranger out.
"You have done a right duty," Gandalf said, leaning his staff against the door and looking at Aragorn almost appraisingly.
"She was not mine to call upon," Aragorn replied, wiping his hands on the hem of his robes. "Where is it that you went to?"
"Merilin," Gandalf replied. "I found her alive and quite well in the Citadel, though with her hurts I know not how she managed to find her way. She refused to leave Théoden's side, although I told her that her journey was incomplete."
Aragorn shook his head and sighed. "There in that woman lies the true spirit of a warrior and not that of a queen," he said. "She has more lives than that of a cat, if she lives still."
There was the sound of a loud thud from the other end of the corridor.
"Not only does she live still," Gandalf said, smirking into his beard, "but she openly insists that no one treat her ills."
"I will look in upon her once I have treated Meriadoc," Aragorn said simply as he turned to leave the hallway. "I will see you then." Gandalf gave him a courteous nod and turned back into the Lady Éowyn's room to see her open her eyes and gaze upon her brother.
Éomer stood by her side, a tear slipping from the corner of his eye. There was blatant joy on his face and all of those observing could sense he loved his sister.
"Éomer," Éowyn said, her tone sleepy as she gazed at her brother and at his companions lining the room. "What joy is this? For they said that you were slain, and of Merilin—" She cut herself off with a choked-up half-sob and turned her head to look at the others. "How long have I been dreaming?"
"Not long, my sister," said Éomer. "But think no more on it."
"I am strangely weary," Éowyn replied, stretching out her right arm, which had once been deemed useless. "I must rest a little. But tell me, what of the Lord of the Mark? Do not tell me that it was a dream for I know that it was not."
"He is dead," Éomer said, bowing his head. "But he bade me say farewell to Éowyn, whom he considered dearer than daughter. He lies now in great honor in the Citadel of Gondor."
"That is grievous," Éowyn said in a tone that suggested she was more than hurt by these tidings. "And yet it is good beyond all I dared hope, for the darkest days spoke that the House of Eorl had sunk in honor less than any shepherd's cot." She took a deep breath and once again seemed to be forcing something from her mind. "Tell me, Éomer, what of Merilin and the King's esquire?"
"Of Merilin, I do not know," Éomer said, looking troubled by admitting this, "but of the Halfling, he lies nearby at the House."
"You must make him a knight of the Riddermark, for he has shown valiance," Éowyn insisted, her eyes glittering oddly.
"You shall, too, make Merilin such a knight," Gandalf said quietly from the doorway. Seeing the look on the siblings' faces, he held up his hand. "She lives still, but she was injured gravely. She remained at the Citadel watching over the Lord of the Mark until I had to nearly drag her away."
A small smile broke out on Éowyn's face, while Éomer looked visibly relieved. "That brings me some hope," she admitted, looking from one to the other.
"She lives," Gandalf said quietly, "and I will go to her after I see to the Halfling. Great gladness it is to see you wake again, Lady Éowyn."
"To health, it may be," Éowyn said, shifting on her cot uneasily, "but to hope, I do not yet know."
Gandalf bowed his head and retreated from the room, leaving the siblings together in silence. The moment she knew the Wizard was out of earshot, she turned to her brother to see the look on his face. "It pleases you to hear she lives still."
"She risked much to go to war in our name," he replied curtly.
"There is reason beyond simple matters of battle," Éowyn prompted gently as she leaned against her pillows. "She rode with you in battle, my brother."
"I know this," he said, sounding irritated she had called him on this, of all things.
"Perhaps there is more that you are unwilling to admit yet," she said carefully.
He turned and fixed her with a dark, steely look. "I was far too concerned with your health moments ago," he said darkly, "and now to listen to your talk on this!"
Éowyn closed her eyes and smiled against her will. She really wanted to cry or scream out or something else, but this moment was just too good for her to lose. "You should go to her and bring her tidings from us both," she said at last. Éomer's glare was worth it, she thought, watching her brother stalk to the doorway and glance out. Just as his head tucked back inside, a clay pitcher flew into the hallway and smashed against the opposite wall.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Buffy gasped, getting ready to throw the clay bedpan as well. Elladan, standing in the doorway, immediately regretted his first order of business, which had been to tend to her broken ribs. Instead, he was face-to-face with a small blonde figure with hazel eyes of fire and a temper to match.
"I will not harm you," he said, placing his hands in the air and watching her turn to look at him, her bruised hands on her hips.
"Oh, really?" she asked, pointing to what appeared to be a scalpel that had been embedded into the wall minutes before. "Were you planning on gutting me?"
"I am here to tend to your injuries," Elladan replied, quietly pulling out the cutter and setting it down on a nearby table. "Would you please sit down so that I may tend to your care?" He took one look at the determined, rebellious look on her face before he knew he had to threaten her anyway he could. "I will call Gandalf to our location if you do not," he finally said.
After glaring at him, she sat slowly, one bloodied hand moving to her chest as she coughed a bit. "All right," she said darkly, watching as he moved to her side, setting down a bowl of water and a cloth. "But so help me, if I see any needles…"
He was able to remove her outer layer of armor and gently cleanse the cuts on her arms, neck and face before she began to stir uncomfortably under his touch.
"Perhaps it would be best if you lay down," he said calmly. She looked at him before complying. It was obvious that her exhaustion was winning out over her will to disobey any words that came from his mouth.
She was asleep shortly thereafter. He was able to treat the rest of her cuts before lifting the hem of her tunic and examining her abdomen. He cringed when he saw the deep blues and purples spread across her fair skin. He gently cleansed her skin before taking a wrap and gently soaking it in warm water and herbs brought from the store. After he had securely bound her ribs, he took gentle care and glanced over her other injuries. She stirred only twice but did not wake up. He could see from her face that her dreams were far from pleasant, but his sole concern at the moment was treating her ailments.
Hearing a sound at the doorway, Elladan turned to see Aragorn walk slowly into the room, his eyes on the woman sleeping on the cot. "She is restless," Aragorn said quietly.
"I have tended to her needs as best I dare," Elladan replied, rising from her cot and turning her care to his foster brother.
"I have only a moment to spare," Aragorn said, tipping his head to the doorway. "Word that the King has returned and is able to heal has reached the ears of many. There are more to heal than space will allow."
"I will see what I can do," Elladan said and, with a passing glance at the blonde on the cot, he disappeared.
Aragorn sat down and touched her face. Buffy began to stir until her eyelids fluttered and she saw a face in glowing white light above her. "Oh," she moaned quietly. "After all of this, please don't tell me I'm dead. You could have killed me before he made with the torture!"
Aragorn caught her flailing hand and held it tight within his grasp. "Merilin, wake up. There is no reason to fear—"
"Don't let me go," she said, her jaw twisting. Aragorn saw the deep welts and cuts lining that part of her face and felt oddly fortunate he had escaped through the battle relatively unscathed and unmarked. "I don't want to go… I don't want to die."
Releasing her hand, he took her by the shoulders, lifting her small body into his arms. With a few shakes, her head flopping back and forth like that of a rag doll, she finally came to her senses and took his arms with a grasp that made him wince. "What are you doing?" she asked in disbelief, taking another second before pushing his hands away.
"You were having a nightmare," Aragorn said, rubbing his shoulders as he rose to his feet. She was glaring at him now, her eyes darkening with anger.
"It wasn't a nightmare," she defended, shrugging her shoulders and moving down to the pillows painfully. "It was something else."
"You need rest. You are no use to us half-dead," Aragorn protested, watching her eyes move back to meet his.
"It really doesn't matter," she said, turning her face away to look at the wall.
"Rest well," he said, moving to the doorway. "I will tend to you later, but for now there are others who need to be cared for."
She didn't say anything. Her mind was wrapped around the feeling of being in someone's warm embrace. The last time she'd had that, it had been with Spike. She had no need in this world for such attachments, but it was a cold reminder of something she didn't have and would never have again. Here she was, given a second chance at life, and the only people she was surrounded by were men! It seemed cruelly ironic that she was stuck in this world surrounded by men who actually cared for her on a level other than loving her.
And then there was the issue of her vision… it had to be a vision and not a nightmare. Blinking, she sighed as she rested her head against the cool pillow, feeling her scented skin relax against the cot. It was quite uncomfortable and yet she felt as though she could sleep chained upside down right about now.
It was deep into the night when Elladan came to check on her. Her back was turned to him and he gently turned her back over, gazing at the bruises on her face. He felt his brow furrowed as he examined her. Was it just his imagination or were there fewer abrasions than there had been a few hours before?
Although the Houses were full of those needing aid and healing hands, those who had already received care had dropped off to sleep.
Éomer walked through the Houses after Éowyn had finally dropped off. At last he found the room where Merilin had been tucked away. She was resting on her side, her body curled protectively. He gazed at her face and saw a passive calm and felt something stir inside of him. Was this the woman who, hours before, had told his people that they would stop for nothing short of victory? She was so small and yet her heart was far larger than many knew. She had many lives as she fought valiantly with every level of battle.
He moved into her room and found it empty aside from her. He took to the bench out of sight from the doorway and watched her sleep, fascinated. Already her bruises were healing and, as he continuously watched her, her breathing became easier.
He drifted off to sleep near daybreak, only opening his eyes when bright sunlight fell across his face from the sliver of doorway within his sights. She was still bathed in darkness and he quietly rose and went to her side, reaching down to touch her warm face. She stirred lightly under his touch, and her hand reached up to cover his.
He was startled at this contact and quickly withdrew his hand, watching as she easily settled back into slumber. He had no idea how to react to something that personal, considering his life had been spent in the fields and with the horses. The only woman he truly knew was his sister and yet…
He heard the sound of a throat clearing behind him and turned about to see Gandalf standing in the doorway, shrouded by the light behind him. His face wore a curiously bemused expression as he surveyed the King and his own charge, sound asleep. "I see that Buffy has been well cared for this night," he said in a pleasant tone.
Éomer couldn't deny the Wizard the satisfaction of knowing he was right. He just cast one last glance at the woman sleeping at his side before moving past the Wizard and out into the morning.
Gandalf watched Buffy sleep for a few moments before examining her face. On closer inspection, she did appear to heal very quickly. Most of the bruises were gone except for a large one along her jaw. There were two deep cuts on her face that had been cleaned, but traces of such scars remained, marred into her perfect, pale skin. As he moved away, a sliver of sunlight fell across her face. She opened her eyes and found the Wizard stooping only a few inches above her face.
"Hello," she said slowly, pushing herself into a seated position, her hands rubbing the traces of sleep from her eyes.
"You appear to be healing rapidly," Gandalf said, moving out of the light, allowing it to bathe the young woman, who blinked and gazed out of the doorway.
"I feel good," she said blandly. She stretched out her arms, feeling no ill-effects from dislocating her shoulder the day before. She pressed her bandaged hands to her ribs and, despite a slight twinge of pain when she pressed hard onto them, they felt healed. Upon removing the linen bandages from her hands, she saw that only a few abrasions remained. The last of her battle scars was the welt and bruise along her jaw bone, but it too had nearly healed, leaving only a trace of blue on her skin.
"I am quite pleased to hear this," Gandalf said, taking the clay bowl from the small table and handing it to her. "If you clean up now, I will meet you outside in the gardens."
Buffy took the bowl and quickly wiped her face and arms with the linen cloth before rising. She set the bowl back onto the table and lifted the hem of her tunic, examining her snugly-wrapped ribs. She felt her face tint pink slightly at the thought of capable hands touching her skin with such close proximity to other areas she wouldn't want any hands to touch. Spying a blanket on top of her folded armor, she pulled around her shoulders and walked out into the sunlight.
She was at the end of a long passageway, with doors lining the far side. Beautiful archways made up the secondary wall leading out into the garden. She spied Gandalf sitting at one of the non-working fountains and tilted her head, considering him for a moment. He spied her standing under the arches and beckoned her forward.
"I do not have much time, as Aragorn has asked for words," he said by way of greeting as she took a seat next to him. "I wanted to make certain you were well."
"I am," she said, her eyes still scanning her surroundings. He was watching her reaction carefully, not quite liking the look of her eyes. "What is this place?"
"They call it the Houses of Healing," Gandalf replied.
"So… it's your basic hospital?" she asked, an accusatory note in her tone. "I don't suppose during your time watching my life you saw that I happened to not like hospitals."
"I saw that you had discomfort," Gandalf admitted. "Yet I realized that once you saw that all could be treated, you would—"
"Just because Aragorn is standing around playing Doctor doesn't mean I'll ever trust these places," she said bitingly. "I just thought you should know that, in case you ever have to bring me here again. I'd rather die on the battlefield than have parts amputated and needles injecting God-knows-what into me."
He could see that she was very set in mind about this and moved on to his next course of action. "Aragorn has asked that the Warden keep the Lady Éowyn and the Steward Faramir safe inside these walls for the time being. Faramir does not yet know of his father's insanity or death. And the Lady Éowyn would surely insist on accompanying the Rohirrim on whatever end may come."
"I see," Buffy said quietly.
"I must ask you to take rest," Gandalf said, his voice dropping. "We still have great things before us, in my case in the least. Your journey in this world has only begun."
"No," she said, shaking her head as she glanced up at him. "I mean, I'll stay here if that's what you want. But as for my journey only beginning, I don't know about that." She looked troubled as she turned away. He rested his hand on her shoulder before rising.
"I will speak everything that is said," he advised her. "For now, I must take my leave."
She watched him go before standing up and walking to the edge of the gardens. Already the sunlight was fading behind grey clouds that seemed to be swarming from the east. Pulling her blanket tighter about her, she stared at the city below, feeling melancholy.
Part of her wanted to see Éowyn, because knowing that she lived would actually give her faith in such a House. She gazed around the gardens and saw that they were empty. She walked back into the corridors, the last of the sunlight waning as she left the outdoors behind.
It wasn't difficult to find her. There were others standing outside her door and the sound of a low female voice residing inside. Ducking past a few of the elder women dressed in cloaks both long and dark, Buffy saw Éowyn resting on her own cot, her arm held on top of the coverings. Her eyes lifted when she saw who had cast her into shadow. Slowly, they brightened as she rose, causing Éomer, who had not yet seen this figure enter, to start.
"Merilin," Éowyn said, blinking slowly as she gazed at the young woman before her.
"Éowyn," Buffy said, a small smile breaking across her face.
"It brings me small hope to see you live," Éowyn said.
"Same here," Buffy said, walking further into the room. She gave Éomer a quiet nod of greeting before turning her attention back to Éowyn. "How are you feeling?"
"The dark thoughts come and go," Éowyn admitted, speaking on a topic that Éomer had refused to bring up with her. She knew her brother would be angry if Buffy were to keep on speaking of such dark tidings and quickly rose to switch to a topic of her own choosing. "How feel you?"
"I'm alright," Buffy said, taking the chair Éomer had been using only a few seconds before and sitting atop it. "I've got a little headache but after everything I went through yesterday, I have nothing to complain about."
"I wish I could speak of such good news," Éowyn said, gesturing to her fractured arm. "Alas, I cannot."
"Hey," Buffy said, reaching over and patting Éowyn's shoulder. "It's good news to see you moving around again. Don't think it isn't."
There was a sound at the door. Buffy craned her neck to see an unfamiliar man standing there, staring curiously at her. Before Buffy could speak, Éomer stepped forward.
"Is this she?" the man asked, gesturing toward Buffy, who rose behind Éomer, looking slightly annoyed.
Éomer nodded and stepped to the side, slipping his arm around Buffy's shoulders to draw her forward. "This is Merilin, who rides with counsel for the Rohirrim," he said, as she stepped forward, holding out her hand. "Merilin, this is Imrahil, Prince of Dol Amroth of Gondor."
"I have heard of you," Buffy said, as the Prince tentatively reached out to shake her hand. "It's… a pleasure."
"Indeed," he said, shaking her hand. "I have heard your name but had yet to see your face."
So, Buffy thought vaguely to herself, she was starting to make an impression on the others around her. They were remembering what she did, sort of like what had happened back at home. That took away a bit of the sting left over from her vision.
"King Éomer, my Lord Aragorn has asked for us to meet with him outside of the city," Prince Imrahil said, coming to do his own business.
Éomer nodded and turned to his sister. "Will you be—?"
"Go," Buffy said, nudging him away from her and nearly sending him out of the doorway and into the Prince. "I'll look after her."
"Are you certain?" he asked, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed her face. "Will you not come with us?"
"Not this time," Buffy admitted, making shooing motions. "Now, go."
Still looking quite confused, he shook his head and left with Imrahil, leaving Buffy and Éowyn alone at last. But Éowyn looked as though she wanted to settle down for a nap, so bidding her farewell and promising to look after her a bit later, Buffy left her room.
The gardens were occupied now, she saw. There was a tall figure and a much stouter figure walking through. She waited in the shadows until they had passed before she moved into the shady light. The Elf had paused in his movements as the Dwarf continued on. His eyes appeared concerned when he saw the young woman walking briskly across the cold garden to come to rest at the edge, her fingers on the rail.
"Will you go and collect them?" Legolas asked Gimli quickly. The Dwarf nodded and the Elf doubled back. He knew that he shouldn't intervene, but the look on her face was reason enough for him to get involved. "My lady?"
"I should have known you'd be the one to sense it," she said after a pregnant pause. She turned to him and saw the look on her face. She wasn't looking very happy.
"I sense that you have more in your thoughts than you let on," he said quietly. "Is this what concerns you?"
She couldn't hold it in anymore. She had to tell someone. "I can't tell a lot of people around here. I never thought I'd make any attachments. I can't tell Gandalf. He sees me as his charge, someone he's mothering into some role he has planned for my future. Can't really tell Aragorn; he considers me to be someone who can fight by his side. And as for the Rohirrim, they're the last people I can tell. I don't know the others, but I don't think they'd care if they did." Her face tightened. "I had a dream… only, it wasn't a dream. It was more like a vision. Slayers get them sometimes. They're like prophecies, only they concern my future."
Legolas glanced at her. "I will hold you to your word," he said, resting his hand near hers.
"They can never know," she said firmly, turning to look him in the eye. "They can never know the truth, Legolas. What I saw in my dreams terrified me. I know I've been through so much. I've only been here a short time and already I can't imagine not wanting to rest in peace." Seeing that he appeared to want to hear the truth outright, she finally managed to get it out without the pretense. "I'm not going to live to see the end of the war. I'm not going to see these days renewed. I won't see Aragorn get his throne and I'll never Rohan again." She noticed the concern spreading across the Elf's face and gave him a reassuring smile. "I'm not afraid for the end to come. I thought it already had. I've accepted this and I know that it's going to be hard, but, in the end, how many of you will really remember me?"
"They will always remember you," Legolas said. "You have done great things for Rohan. You have brought—"
"They will remember a fighter," Buffy said, cutting him off again. "They will not remember me. Maybe it's better to just cut myself off from them. I'm their counsel, as Gandalf has told me I am again and again. But I'm nothing more."
"I will keep your words to myself," Legolas assured her, seeing that she feared he would tell someone else. "Do not believe for a moment you have not made a difference."
"It doesn't matter anymore," Buffy said, giving him a tight smile as she drew the blanket closer to her shoulders. "I'm just waiting for it all to end. I'll do my part, but when that's over…" She trailed off, not certain on how to continue.
He could not think of anything to say, but watched her as she turned and walked away.
x-x-x
In the next part, the final debate and a few awkward conversations.
Oh, and we finally get to see a bit of the heart of this fiction, including my biggest 'ship of all times… which you will see. I have rather enjoyed writing for this couple, and after what they have been through, they have earned it.