Journey's End
Pairings: There are some 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: This is the part where I thank all of you for reading. I know that a great many of you probably do glance at this little priceless jewel of ours. We do appreciate it, really. And if either of us could bake worth a damn, you'd all get warm sugar cookies with sprinkles! Alas, this journey comes to an end and this has been an emotional roller-coaster ride for us. I really wish we could show you our original ending for this story, because almost none of it exists anymore, but instead we'll share our endless amount of gratitude. Thank you for taking the time to read… we hope you enjoy the show!
Sukera – well, thank you.
Sparky24 – the little shadow so reminds us of a dear member of our little writing club... she had to be written in. She will not be going to Gondor, but she will be in Rohan. As for her being a maid in waiting, well… not precisely. And thank you for your compliments.
Evilelvengoddess – Thank you.
XinnLajgin – Just out of curiosity, where did your screen-name come from? That almost sounds Japanese, too! Thank you for your compliments, but I do have to make two tiny comments. One, Buffy isn't married. And two, there is just a little more ass kicking to be had… at least, in this story.
Spd – oddly enough, we never considered a pairing like this, either. It just sort of developed a mind of its own. We can thank Katrina for that little ditty.
General Mac – sadly enough, we're running out of chapters to give you!
Cat – thank you!
Granddancer – all righty then.
AngelBuffyFluffin – why, thank you so very much!
Chapter Summary: The return to Gondor is just the beginning of an emotional journey for one nation to say goodbye to their fallen heroes.
Chapter Warning: As this story comes to an end (thirty lovely chapters with an actual epilogue ending), there is little of the book left that we wished to pursue. There is actually one more chapter, but we reserved that for the last. This chapter concerns the return to Gondor, and if you might consider this a two-part chapter, the next chapter is about the return back from Gondor. Sorry for the delay, but real life has been a bit hectic as of late, with both of us now back in school and because we both devote time to school and family the internet has become less of a priority. I hope to have this story posted by the end of September or beginning of October, sometime before it marks its one-year anniversary. Katrina's excuse is that she has hidden her face from the world due to far too many hurricane jokes.
x-x-x
Chapter 27
The Promise
By Alyson Kay
x-x-x
By the time evening had come, Buffy would have given anything for an Orc to slay, a dragon to kick the crap out of or even a group of evil men she could taunt. It had taken all of her patience to ride in silence and endure forced conversation about the scarred landscape. But the fact was she felt like baggage being dragged from one side of the country to another. And it didn't help that he was perfectly content on ignoring the growing tension that by the time they stopped to rest the horses it was thick enough to slice with a sword. It would have helped if Buffy had had the said sword.
She only wished she had someone to talk to. Éomer's conversation skills were seriously lacking, and she had no intentions of breaking the silence pack between them.
He had started the fire as she went off to tether Sador. As she returned, she dropped her single bag and nearly collapsed on the ground, wincing as her sore rear hit the hard earth. Even after all she had been through, she wasn't used to riding on horses. It was going to hurt tomorrow when she got back in the saddle again.
Éomer watched quietly as she shifted uncomfortably on the ground, digging through her sack. He wanted to say something to her, but he wasn't sure where to start. He had a feeling that she was avoiding conversation at all cost, which was probably the reason for her dramatics. There was also the issue that he wasn't a conversationalist to begin with and she had a way with words that tended to confuse him. After a few moments of prolonged searching, he was beginning to wonder what she was looking for. She certainly couldn't hold this up until dawn and after a few more moments of pushing aside the few belongings she had, she threw the bag angrily away from her before settling down.
"Will you stop that?" she asked irritably. She was not looking at him, but apparently she knew he was gazing at her.
"I will," he said, turning back to stare at the flames and give the burning bits of wood a good prod with his stick.
There was silence on her end, until "Is there dinner?"
He turned to his own pack and started pulling out the essentials. As he set the items out, he could feel the warmth of her gaze on him. If only things could get more awkward, he thought as he turned and handed her the pan. There was a pack of dried grains and his own canteen of water. As he turned back to his pack, he could hear her pick up the pot. The next thing he knew, he felt the cold object glide off of his armor and fall onto the hard ground with a solid clang.
"Did you expect me to know how to use this?" she asked incredulously as their gaze met. He looked angry and she looked stunned. "I burn water."
"There was no need for this show of anger," he said in a snippy tone, taking the pan and setting it upon a rock.
"Well, if you hadn't been clearly ignoring the fact that I'm right here," she snapped, her tone rising. It was clearly obvious to them both that she was picking this fight from boredom. He let her. "And I know I told you I can't cook. You knew that before you even knew me."
"Perhaps so," he said, adding water to the pan and setting it near the fire upon a flat stone, "but that does not excuse you throwing objects around out of temper."
"I'm just… so sick of this," she said after a long pause. "I'm just trying to do what I can, and does it work? No. I'm just trying to do something with my life because obviously I can't die in battle and it seems we've run out of battles for me to run into and I…"
She stopped and slapped her knees in frustration. Shaking her head as though frustrated from her outburst, she stood up and meandered into the darkness. Only when she was out of sight did he hear her heavy sigh.
"You are not alone," he said after a long moment, watching as the water in his small, dented pot began to boil. That little pot had endured so much in the past few years, he thought, leaning over to add the grain.
"I can still hear you," she grumbled some distance behind him. "I may the blonde and all, but I have perfect reception."
"Then perhaps you would care to sit and rest," he said, turning to shout into the darkness, knowing full well it would agitate her. "You will need your strength in days to come."
He waited for her to patiently return. After a few seconds though, he glanced up and rose, staring out into the dark abyss. Even though his eyesight was no where near as acute as hers, he saw her silhouette only a few feet away and her head was tipped back.
"God," she was saying in a hushed tone, her eyes seemingly entranced to the stars above. "Couldn't even get a view like this if you paid for it."
His eyes flickered upwards and took in the thousands of glowing orbs that just radiated silvery light around them. "My father once said that those of the past watch over us and when our time comes to leave this world we go to the next, up there."
She let out a long slow breath and nodded. "Your father was wise," she said simply. "But all I see when I look up there are the people who screwed my life over. Again."
He just didn't understand her. One moment she was pleased to be in Rohan, eager to be in his service and do what she could to put together a country broken through decades of war. And then there were these moments where he thought he could finally see through the guise of 'Merilin' who this woman really was. She was a lost soul in his eyes in this moment. "You should look closer," he said boldly. "There are many possibilities amongst the stars. Even the brightest was once living, destined to defeat the greatest evil this world had ever faced. Without the actions of countless, the world would be left in darkness."
He watched as she tipped her face upwards again. "I just feel so small, like nothing I can do would make a difference," she countered.
"Maybe not to those who do not know you," he replied, "but to those you saved or fought for… they remember. The stars know all and miss nothing. They have seen what you are and what you have it in you to become."
"What could I possibly become?" She sounded amused now.
"What more could you ask for?" he asked. "If it is death in battle you seek, there will always be another war. There will always be need for your sword. But there are a great many things you can do while you wait for the darkness to return." He paused. "I watched as you embraced a child who pleaded with you not to go 'ere you never return. Such loyalty to the very small inspires hope to those who have had none. You may think your deeds insignificant but in the end, I would hope they give you pride."
Turning, he left her to her musings as he returned to the fire, bending down and carefully stirring some of the boiled grain into a small clay dish. "Come," he said, raising his tone. "Your dinner is waiting."
Slowly, she turned away from her spot and walked back, accepting her bowl with hearty gusto. He watched as she ate and drank, feeling melancholy. "You can quit with the staring," she admonished him, not taking her eyes from her dish.
"There is little else to look at," he replied. He knew that he was acting rather un-King-like, but she was behaving outright juvenile. He assumed that she was having a bad day, because they all suffered those days where they'd rather feed their counterparts to wargs, but this was something different, he sensed.
"The fire is always pretty," she returned in a mock-cheery tone. After a moment, she swallowed the rest of her meal and set the bowl aside. "I think things just got really awkward here and I really don't know…"
"They did," he confirmed, not surprised that she had picked up on this rather obvious fact.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I just expected there to be guards or… or someone else. Spending time with you is always a great… well. I'm finally beginning to understand your logic, but… I did promise myself that I would stay away from you personally, and this isn't helping."
He recalled Éowyn's words to him and shook his head slightly, returning his gaze to the dancing flames. "I should never have permitted this," he growled.
This time, she turned to him, her eyes questioning. "Isn't this what you wanted?" she asked sharply. "You wanted to be the King of a war-torn nation, but personal life always comes second. I get that. It was my sacred duty, or whatever the hell my slaying was. Because in order to do what you need to do for your people, the choice has to be made by you. You're alone whether you want to be or not."
"This was not what I wanted," he retorted. "Had the choice been my own, I would have kept you at my side instead of pushing you away."
There was a small pause before she shook her head sadly. "You didn't have to push that hard."
An awkward silence followed as Buffy shrugged and walked away. He wanted to call out to her, but he had no idea where he'd even begin to explain what was on his mind now.
x-x-x
Éowyn was pleasantly surprised when Buffy and King Éomer returned a day ahead of schedule. Most of his guards were still gathering in the valley, preparing for a departure the next morning. When they came, they weren't speaking to one another. Buffy walked past her into Meduseld without a second glance and after a brief greeting and a heavy sigh, Éomer followed behind her.
Some of the glow Éowyn had been feeling was vanquished as a flame. She had hoped that they would have settled their differences during their short time together, but apparently they had not. She disappeared inside Meduseld to find Buffy.
The Slayer was inside her room, undressing. Éowyn waited until Buffy had pulled off her armor and her riding clothes before slipping into a shift and preparing for a long, hot scouring.
"I know you're there," Buffy called cheerfully as she smoothed back her golden hair. "You can't really hide."
Éowyn smiled as she stepped inside the room. Buffy was standing there with a towel and soap in one arm and a cloak in the other. "I guess there is no way to fool you."
"Nothing I can think of anyway," Buffy replied, slipping past Éowyn and moving into the room where a basin full of hot water was kept.
"What happened out there?" Éowyn asked, as this was the question most on her mind.
"Nothing," Buffy said quietly as she undressed and slipped into the warm basin. Ducking her head under the blissfully warm water, she sighed as she resurfaced. "Absolutely nothing."
"I would have that… but you care for him," Éowyn protested from her spot on the other side of the room.
"I don't think that's all that matters anymore," Buffy replied, lifting one arm and watching as droplets of water ran down the skin. "There's bigger things at stake here than what either of us feel." She tipped her head against the basin. "I think you know how that feels."
"I have a slight idea," Éowyn replied. She sounded far away. "I will leave you be."
Buffy listened as the door closed quietly before she sank underneath the water.
Éowyn moved to the room that she considered one of her favorites. The throne room looked ever the same, despite the fact that once again the King was not present. She found him down in the stores, a great tray in the arms of his aid, stacked triple high with dishes and plates. Seeing the amused expression on his sister's face, he shrugged and motioned for the aid to leave. He did, and with him he took the tray. "I have just been to see your dear captain," she said in a teasing voice as she sat at the table. Taking what little stores remained of the potatoes inside the pantry, he joined her.
"Was she not in the best of moods?" he asked her grudgingly.
"She spoke of better times," Éowyn admitted. There was a silence until she added, "you should tell her how you feel 'ere you lose her."
"Lose her to whom? The Elves? The Dwarves?"
"I would worry first about the Elves," Éowyn said, smirking as she rose. "Gandalf favors her above most others. It would be wise to trust that the Elves will favor her as well."
"They do not feel for her as we do," Éomer muttered. "They would use her for her skill and little else."
"This is why the truth must be known. You must promise me that you will speak with her and let her know. She will not stay if she believes she has nothing here."
He shook his head and rose. "I fear it is far too late for that, sister," he replied as he left the kitchen. "I believe she already knows."
She watched as he left, feeling melancholy. These were two people she loved greatly in the world and there was something between them, something tangible. It was only a matter of time before such a beautiful thing began to fade.
These thoughts were still on her mind as she watched the Royal guard pass through the gates of Edoras, moving back towards Minas Tirith. She caught her brother's tall stature and the golden head of the Slayer. She waited as they continued to move away until she returned to the shelter of her family home.
The road to Gondor was not nearly as perilous as the last time. Buffy still volunteered to do scouting, which left her free to worry about things other than Éomer. No matter how she felt about him, no matter what their relationship was, she had a job to do, first.
The only problem was, Éomer seemed perfectly willing to talk to her now.
"Isn't this dangerous?" she asked in a cool tone as he brought his horse near hers. They were less than a half day from Minas Tirith, having crossed over into the realm of Gondor the previous noon. "Are you sure you don't want the others to see?"
"Would it matter if they did?"
"Wouldn't it matter to you?"
"I would not hesitate to proclaim as I feel before my men."
"Isn't there a song that goes along with this?"
"You may mock me," he said, his eyes glittering, "but I fear you will not see the true purpose of this—"
"This little talk that shouldn't exist you mean?" she asked, her eyebrows rising. "No… I get it. I know how you feel, Éomer. I… I see things differently than you do. I'm not so simple."
"If you prefer it with folk who are not as simple," he said, his tone rising, "perhaps you would rather be with the Elves."
She snorted mirthlessly. "Because God knows I love them. I love the Elves, didn't you know? Wanna marry all of 'em… just because I can."
He just shook his head and allowed Sador to drop back. Once he was out of sight, she clearly rolled her eyes.
Minas Tirith looked stunning as usual. There was a great celebration in the air as they arrived in the city. King Éomer was greeted most warmly, she saw. There were women gathering everywhere to watch as the King and his Marshals ascended the city to the Citadel, where King Elessar and his new bride, Queen Evenstar were waiting.
At last, Buffy was introduced to the Elven Queen.
"This is my pride, my pupil," Gandalf said, taking Buffy's arm as he led her to the Queen's chair. "This is Merilin, Buffy, the Slayer of great folk and quite the magnificent fighter."
She beamed at Gandalf before extended her hand to Arwen. She was quite surprised when Arwen just inclined her head. "The delight is mine," she said, her grey eyes glistening as she lifted her chin. "Aragorn has spoken highly of you. Surely you must have tired from your long journey. Tonight you will remain in the city as my guest."
Over the next few hours, Buffy felt more relaxed than anything. She had been promptly stripped of her armor by the Elvish handmaidens and had been fitted with a gown for that evening's festivities. They were there to celebrate the return of the pact Éomer and Aragorn had made, she realized as they carefully threaded her top. The gown must have been custom-made, she thought, glancing at the long, sweeping golden drapes. It was a stunning gown that looked heavy, but weighed but a nickel. Twirling slightly, she was forced to remain still as two women tackled her hair, slipping it up and pinning it into place.
Gandalf was waiting for her once she came out, wearing a long golden gown and a scowl. Though she looked as priceless as the greatest jewels, the dour look on her face made him smile. There was always some room for amusement when it came to her, though her glowering eyes soon turned on him, and he turned his amusement into a slow frown. "Perhaps you did not know that this was a dinner in celebration."
"I'm celebrating the fact I'm short and apparently not cut out for Elvish costumes," she grumbled, lifting her arms. "These go down to the floor, Gandalf."
"That is what they are meant to do," he counseled her.
"Great, just great," she grumbled, crossing her arms and promptly tripping over her gown.
"I am pleased that you could come," Gandalf said. "There is a matter I wish to discuss with you that can wait until morning."
"I'll look forward to it," she replied.
The sun was already starting to dip behind the mountains as Gandalf and Buffy arrived at the banquet hall. "I will now pass you onto your escort," he said with his kind smile as he took her arm and slipped her hand into the hand of a Gondorian soldier. It took her a moment to realize it was Faramir. Her smile spoke wonders, Gandalf thought as he passed into the hall, his white robe clearing gleaming above all the colors and jewels of the hall within.
King Éomer was already seated with his men as Aragorn rose. As the doors parted again, Éomer turned his head and felt his chest seize. There was a small figure looking like a true warrior on the arm of her escort. He knew that Faramir was betrothed to his sister, but it was a different matter completely to see that his own beloved was taking the arm of another. Faramir bent his head and spoke into her ear. A moment later, they steered away from the Rohan high table and moved toward the Elves.
Éomer frowned deeply at this and rose, but his first Marshal slipped a hand onto his shoulder. "She will return, my Lord… leave her be."
Apparently Buffy was not the only one who could see things, he thought grudgingly as he sat down.
Galadriel was there, and with her was the Master Elf she introduced as her son. Elrond bowed his head and the two began to speak.
"I have to tell you, I know next to nothing about you," she said, flashing him a bright smile as she sat to his left. At the main table, Arwen turned and saw that her father was engaged with the young warrior that Aragorn had spoken quite highly of. Nudging him slightly, she gestured this point to her husband, who looked rather amused.
"I would rather not like to tell you that there is no chance that she will ever go with your Adar," he said, speaking quietly in her ear.
"What makes you so certain?" she breathed.
"Her heart belongs there," Aragorn said, gesturing to the table at their left. Crowded with a group of rowdy-looking men, the King had his eyes on the Elvish side of the room and his jaw appeared to be set. "There is talk of her as a Queen."
"There can be more to her than just a Queen of Rohan."
"There is a great deal more than this," Aragorn replied, pleased. "But that does not mean she will defy what her heart speaks. This is what you have done."
"I understand," Arwen replied, glancing back over at her father. Elrond wore his usual expression of patience on his face as he listened to the young woman speak before him.
Across the room, Éomer took a deep gulp of ale and set his empty mug aside. Spotting the Elf and the Dwarf, he waved Gimli over. "If you must, send for your axe," he said in a voice of mock anxiety.
"I will have it sent within reason," Gimli said, glancing at Éomer with the look of a Dwarf that had had a few too many ales. "What speak you of?"
"Those words make little sense, Master Dwarf," Éomer replied, glancing at the smiling and laughing figure across the room. She was now surrounded by Elves, including the tall, matching set of sons of Elrond. Though she spoke in a low voice, she was carefully avoiding contact with the human side of the room. Feeling as though a growl were approaching, he turned his attention back to the Dwarf. "I must say that Lady Galadriel is not the fairest woman I have set eyes upon."
"Then I must fetch my axe," Gimli said with a low hoot as he rose, clapping his hands together.
"I have my eyes set on sunlight, but her light radiates a new glow," Éomer replied. Gimli followed his gaze and stopped celebrating his small victory.
"Any fool would see what you feel, laddie," Gimli said, clasping Éomer upon the shoulder. "Though Elves contain such radiant beauty, my heart belongs to the sunrise, the eternal light. The night belongs to the one they call Elessar. It seems as you, my Lord, have captured the attention of many."
Éomer scowled as Gimli strode away. It was true that his men had captured the attention of many stunning young women. But his eyes were only set on one. He watched as Galadriel gave Elrond a patented look before departing, her glow seeming to fade as she swept regally outdoors.
He cast his eyes towards the Elvish delegation, but found his concentration suddenly concerned by the fact that the object of his pointed obsession was no longer there.
x-x-x
It was as though she were being called. It was much cooler outside and she was finally able to breathe. She felt so much more relaxed out in the open, where she wasn't being stared at or talked about. Smoothing her heavy golden gown, she released a long breath and stood at the edge of the rail. This air was soothing to her.
She caught of flash of light out of the corner of her eye. Curious, she turned from her spot and moved away from the door. The music and laughter slowly died away as she followed what she soon discovered was a faint Elvish glow. Remembering Éomer's accusations towards her affiliation with the quaint beings, she kept her distance. But she almost felt as though she were being pulled along, like on a string.
The steps led into a garden that, serving her own memory, had been dead just a few hours before. The trees seemed to be blooming in the wake of such a noble creature. Only one woman could inspire such cooperating from nature, and that was Galadriel.
"Speak of the devil," she murmured, recognizing the woman's willowy silhouette in the darkness. "Hello."
"I had been hoping to speak with you," Galadriel said in her misty tone. "There is much that needs to be said."
"Considering the last time you saw me I was a refugee, I hardly think that there's anything to say anymore that hasn't been done, said or inflicted," Buffy countered, crossing her arms.
"Your tongue is wise," Galadriel said with her patented serenity. "However, it will not protect you from me."
"Didn't think so," Buffy replied. "You seem the type that doesn't have to put up with all this crap."
Galadriel smiled. "Many thousands of years have helped this… putting up with such," she replied as she sat at one of the few fountains in the garden. It was a gentle white cup holding a great deal of clear water. "And yet none of the bitter losses or grim memories could escape my mind in the hour of victory. I, too, know the feeling of loss, Buffy." Her eternal age seemed to shine in her eyes as she glanced at the Slayer. "Yet none of it prepared me for the adventure thousands of years in the making."
"You're talking about the final journey," Buffy surmised. "The one going west?"
"Gandalf has taught you much," Galadriel said with a slight nod. "Yet there is much to learn." She paused. "Do you remember the words you spoke 'ere you began this journey?"
"I remember it was hateful," Buffy said, wincing. "I wasn't in the best mood."
"There was more than just spite."
"I wasn't hoping for anything," Buffy confessed. "I was just looking for an easy way out. I figured I'd been screwed enough in my life… didn't need any more with the messing."
"They were words concerning your sister," Galadriel prompted her.
"Oh," Buffy whispered. Never for a second had she forgotten the fact that she was separated from Dawn, possibly forever. It was just too depressing to think about. "I don't like to think about her, because I really can't change what's happened," she uttered uncomfortably.
"There is much that you have risked," Galadriel replied, turning to face her. "Before you journeyed to our time, you gave your word, your promise that you would live in this world. To live a life as empty as you claim is not a life worth living at all. You asked that your sister be given protection after your passing from your world."
Buffy felt her breath catch in her throat. Did her desire for death alter her agreement with that stupid balance demon? "What do you know?" she asked nervously, finding that her hands were twisting.
"The balance has not been altered," Galadriel assured her. "But perhaps you will see that this decision was not made in vain." Turning, she lifted her hand and gently set it upon the water. As the pool began to ripple, she withdrew her hand and rose, turning away. "You will see for yourself that all you have hoped for has come to pass."
Buffy sat on the stone fountain, watching as the water began to ripple. As each wave crested, she saw another image. The first image was of Dawn. "Dawnie?" she whispered, bringing a stunned hand to her mouth. "Oh, Dawn." It nearly tore her heartstrings to see Dawn smiling and walking with friends again. Although she was now in Cleveland where another Hellmouth stood, she could see that Dawn was popular, happy and smiling again. Another ripple showed Dawn and Andrew getting rather closer. Coughing slightly, she waited for the next image and noticed how her face relaxed. Dawn was drawing again! Despite Giles' insistence that Dawn was going to end up a Watcher just like him, she was showing great aptitudes in the arts. And Andrew photographing her to be her own model was something that was quite ingenious, if not perfectly balanced. Dawn was moving on with her life and it touched her deeply to know that Buffy was still on her mind. There were photographs in Dawn's new bedroom, inside her locker and in her new house that displayed Buffy's sad, tragic past. It was something that Buffy felt she had moved beyond. Maybe she had.
Another ripple brought another face, and Buffy smiled as she saw Giles. Her former mentor was putting together another Watcher's Council and was rebuilding his collection. He was also apparently dating, as she saw from another wave. Xander was next; her one-eyed construction friend was building houses now and because his sight was still off, he was focusing more on interior decorations. Willow was also there, with a college campus in the background and a Bachelor's degree in teaching on her mind. Kennedy was no where in sight, but Buffy still saw Willow surrounded by many, many beautiful women. At last, as the ripples began to recede, she saw Spike. She felt slightly torn seeing him with Harmony again working with Angel. Speaking of that, seeing the two undead men she had ever loved working in close proximity was enough to start her breath ablaze. Seeing them both working for the better good of the world was something that comforted her.
The truth was, they were moving on with their lives. It was time for her to break the same damned pattern and do the same. As the pool returned to a glistening still vat of water, she slowly lifted a finger and brushed at her eyes, but felt no dampness. There was nothing there. She felt as though she had seen something that had given her such a charge. They were surviving without her. The parting image had been Faith leading Kennedy, Rona, Vi and many other Slayers in training exercises. They were learning to go on.
"Thank you," she told Galadriel quietly. "Thank you for showing me."
"You have only seen a small piece of a challenging future that awaits them," Galadriel returned, smiling again. "Your death gave them a new life. They would wish for you to live if they knew of this."
Buffy lifted her hands, the silky material of her golden gown feeling smooth and soft beneath her fingertips. "For the first time, I feel at peace," she said softly. "I feel like I've sacrificed everything and for once it's for something good."
"You are a woman of great strength and with that comes the sacrifice of self," Galadriel replied. "You have it within you to have the power to do great things. Rohan is a fortunate nation to have your skills at its perusal. All will benefit from what you have to teach them. And you will teach them. In time, you will see your true powers. In time, you will become what you are destined to be. The Slayer of the past is gone now. Your promise to save your friends from grief has given you a mighty gift. You are no longer alone. There are those in power who wish to see you smile and not grieve for those who no longer grieve for you."
Buffy stood up, feeling empowered. "Just when I thought I could throw it all away…" she murmured.
"Become the power within," Galadriel advised her, "for the time has come to lead with your heart. It is your greatest strength."
"Thank you," Buffy said, her tone strengthening as she beamed at the tall Elven queen behind her. "It's nice to know that even when I'm not really here you can see me."
"I will not always remain," Galadriel said, gazing to the east while her fingers grazed the ring still adorning her finger. "Already my heart pulls to the west. I have lost much and now the time has come to go the west. I will find my peace with my people as you have now found peace with yours." Rising, she strolled towards the edge of the garden. "The night is quite young, Buffy. The time has come 'ere my presence is missed." Bowing her head slightly, she departed.
Buffy walked around the garden, lost in thought. Her family was safe. Her friends were happy. Everything that she had always hoped for them was happening. Even though she wasn't there, she felt as though she had done something right. But Galadriel's words came back to her. Her heart was her greatest strength? Did the Elven Lady even know how many times her heart had been within a tear of blackening the world with her dark Slayer powers? Shaking her head, she too exited the garden and made her way back to the banquet hall. Hearing the laughter and music from within, she returned to her rail and stared at the moon.
"T'was a noble act you did," a quiet voice spoke from behind her.
"And the surprises just keep on coming," she muttered. "I don't know what you're talking about," she added loudly.
Faramir looked amused as he stepped up next to her. "The Wizard has been praising your stubbornness," he informed her, smirking slightly. "It appears as though you turned down Elrond's offer."
"Like I want to spend the rest of my days in an Elvish monastery?" she asked, now expressing her own amusement. "He's just mad because his own daughter got married."
"You truly missed a ceremony spoken in wonders," Faramir said softly. "I only that my own will surpass all the dreams of my beloved."
"You mean Éowyn's hopes and dreams?" Buffy asked loftily. "I don't think you have to stretch that hard. She adores you to the point of obsession and she can't wait to see you again. Just think… in a few months, you two will be dancing under the stars thanking all the dead men for bringing you to this very moment and expressing your hope that all others can cherish these moments along with you."
"At this point your abuse of sarcasm has gone beyond words," Faramir said, patting her shoulder.
"No," she said, looking up at him with the look of utmost sincerity. "I mean it. You two deserve happiness. I can't think of any two people who deserve it more together."
"My only wish is that you can share this happiness as well."
"I will," she said quietly, looking away. "I mean, I am happy here. Something tells me that I made the right choice in choosing to live. Everything that comes after is just frosting."
He gave her shoulders a comforting squeeze before moving away. She stood there a moment longer until she felt a cool breeze shift in the night. Glancing up, she saw the person she had wanted to see standing a short distance away. Taking a deep breath and releasing it, she moved towards him, well aware that the sounds of the beads on the bottom of her gown were giving her away. Yet he didn't turn around. She wasn't ready for that yet.
"Nice night," she said as she came to rest at his side. "I like the stars."
"Was it not a few nights ago that you told me the stars reminded you of loss?" he questioned. He sounded characteristically moody tonight, she thought, frowning slightly. She only hoped it wouldn't be a problem, since she felt a torrent of words coming along and she wasn't sure she would stop talking once provoked.
"I made a promise to someone to protect those I loved," she said, staring out into the night. "Tonight I found out that they are protected. They're safe and warm and happy and complete. I know now that I'm safe here because I'm surrounded by people who know what to do with a sword. I'm not really warm because this is a far cry from California, but I'm getting used to it. I can probably count on one hand the number of times I've been really happy in my life. I don't think I've ever felt complete. But tonight, I'm at peace because now I believe that there is something here to hold onto. To believe in. I believe that I have a place here… a place that you gave me."
"I would do no less for one with your skill," he apprised, turning to look at her. She was still gazing outwards, but she could feel the intensity of his look. "There are many who wish for your happiness." He frowned slightly at recalling the large amount of men and Elves that had been vying for her attention. "There are many who would wish to make you happy."
"It isn't about the attention," she countered, smirking at the moody scowl on his face. Despite her earlier reservations that the look made him look excessively mean and not pleasant, she was used to his mood swings. "It's about a feeling, a rush… something that's just more than sweet words and… damn, can those Elves sing."
"They sang to you?" he asked, turning those smoldering eyes on her. She smiled sweetly at the look on his face. "I do despise those creatures," he growled.
"It wouldn't matter if they serenaded the night away," she said, smiling slightly as she turned her face back to the breeze. "I don't think anything they could do would matter."
"They are beautiful creatures," he grudgingly admitted. "To win over your heart in spite of the fact they will never die…"
"Oh, they won't win me over," she chuckled, shaking her head. "I think I'm already won."
He gazed at her, confusion dimming the dark light that seemed to emanate from him in waves. "What say you?" he asked.
"I said that no matter what anyone says or what anyone tries to do, within reason unless I break something painful, nothing said or actions done will matter," she replied tartly. "The truth is, I like somebody. And I think that somebody likes me back. As easy as it sounds, I'm good with that. I don't need a hundred suitors offering me the world. I already have the one that offered me something more."
She could have laughed at the confusion on his face. Obviously this man had never had a heart-to-heart not regarding a horse before. Reaching up, she took his face in her cool hand. "I have got to teach you how to properly woo," she laughed. "For a King, you are out of style."
Seeing the elation on her face, along with her classic bemusement, he covered her hand with his. "There is so much I was willing to say to… say," he said, as though he couldn't think of anything reasonably intelligent to say.
She heaved a dramatic sigh as she pulled her hand away. "You want to try singing?"
He winced. "I do not believe you would find it very… soothing."
"Can't sing, huh?" she asked, grinning. "I can live with that." Turning, she glanced back over at the stars. "I think someone's smiling on me tonight and it feels good. It feels whole. Almost complete."
She felt his hand on her back, guiding her towards the steps. "Perhaps we should turn in," he advised. "We are leaving quite early."
"Right, the funeral march," she replied, nodding. "I got it."
"Once we return to Rohan…"
"I'll keep my distance for as long as it takes," she replied as she paused, gazing at the doors. The sounds of a very fun, deafening party came from within. "But just know I'm not going to run away when you decide the time is right."
"If it were my decision, I would declare it to the world," he said. He only looked slightly less grumpy, which suited her just fine. He was so pretty to look at even when he was all glowering.
"Someday you will," she said, "once they get used to you as a King."
"Perhaps someday you will be named Queen."
"One thing at a time, please," she grimaced, holding up a hand. "There's only so much I can do in one night. This… whatever it is… it works now. Since you obviously don't know how to court, well… I can help a little bit. I'm a fan of the unconventional. I don't even think I've ever had a normal date…"
During the next half hour, they lapsed into a reminiscent stroll through her memory lane, where she recounted the tales of her false dates. Since he considered it somewhat of a learning experience, he said little, even though his face darkened each time he heard that this woman had been hurt. She was strength incarnate. He never would have dreamt of seeing her in pain from one breaking that heart.
All at once, it seemed as though they had reached her room. Turning to face him, she removed her arm from his and glanced inside. "Well… thanks for listening. Even for a guy… you're good at that."
"It amazes me how little I knew of you," he replied.
"Oh, you'll know everything sooner or later," she said with an anxious, little smile. "The good, bad and the ugliest. If you don't run screaming for the exits, well… then I'll know."
Seeing the tired look on her face and the darkness within, he bowed his head and made to back away. But she reached over and seized his arm. His next memory was of her lips on his and her warmth spreading to every fiber of his being. Even as they separated, he had no willingness to leave, despite the fact she had wished him good night and had slipped inside. There was just something about her that made him want to know more. It seemed as though she knew him as a simple man, but she was anything but simple. It was as though watching a leaf bloom and fall in the same season, all the complexities of a single fragment of a growing, united thing…
And he knew he now possessed that beauty. Despite their best efforts, she cared for him. For now, that was all that mattered.
x-x-x
In the next chapter, a former King returns home, a new Lady leaves home and a Slayer dreams of something more.