FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.
Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy gets sent to Middle Earth to help bring down Sauron. Her duty, like the Istari, is not to confront Sauron directly but to help those fated to face him bring him down. More specifically she's to help the King of Gondor get on his throne. Will Arwen and Aragorn's love stand against the shadow? Will Legolas be able to keep a secret, that if revealed, could shatter the lives of those he cares for? Will Buffy be able to fulfil her duty? Will Denethor be able to put aside his animosity for the man who would supplant him? Will the ringbearer reach Mount Doom, or will he be cut down before he reaches his goal? And will Boromir resist the lure of the ring?
Author's Note: For the sake of expediency, I say this now. There is a fairly long conversation in Elvish in this chapter. Translations will be beside the Elvish as it is spoken instead of at the bottom of the page as per usual so as not to drive readers insane! :)
And woohoo! Another long chapter! I swear my muse is running away with me… things are just being written from thin air that I have no idea where the idea came from! But hey, I'm not complaining! :D!
Review responses:
Andrea35 - there will be angst a plenty. The godmother to Faramir thing was a good idea but he's not born until 2983 and Buffy'll be gone by then. As for the dungeons thing, I think Aragorn would have managed to weasel his way out of that one. And no, it will not be like Angel's poisoning. He was a vampire and our ranger is not. Aragorn's not gonna drain her dry and nearly kill her. I don't think you'd get Aragorn, no matter how out of it, to drink the blood of anything! But her slayer heritage will have a part to play. And Gandalf will show up in a couple of chapters.
Anna - Yep, that lovely betrothal between Arwen and Aragorn will be a nice dagger in the heart for one Elf and one Slayer. Legolas and Buffy will end up being friends, they're gonna meet fairly shortly actually. And Denethor is definitely gonna get some grey hair in this chapter…
Arkee - I'm on a bit of a roll at the moment, though updates will slow to only one a week at most when school restarts. glares fitfully at the calendar As for Buffy not responding to Aragorn's advances, she doesn't feel like playing second best to Arwen, even if she is her friend. And your ideas on Aragorn's delirium are duly noted! :)
Catlimere - They'd have to be aware of the plots first!
ChibiChibi - I hope this update was fast enough for you! :) and yeah the twins were originally somewhat based on Gred and Forge but since then have sprung up very evil, very devious little lives of their own…
Darkseed - Thanks for the heads up on the downloading!
DragonStar - Her wrath will be very nasty indeed. Especially as it's gonna span a few years….
Haley - Buffy has many, many ways of referring to Denethor. Few of them nice.
Herald-Mage Brianna - Sorry if I'm confused, but in charge of what?
Hungaloongs - the 'evil square' has been flitting around my mind for some time now….
Immortalwizardpirateelf-fan - Yes, Buffy will be taking part in the War of the Ring. Whether she lives through it or not is another story… grins evilly And as for your quote, very good idea…
Jennzabell - Aragorn - raised by Elves. Has no clue how to deal with a woman like Buffy. She's gonna give him plenty of practice for when Éowyn comes along! Denethor obviously has some redeeming qualities. They just never show up when Buffy or Aragorn are around. He's a little obsessed with Aragorn. When Aragorn goes, he may recover some semblance of sanity but 'til then… watch this space… As for your ideas, they've been added to my little stockpile marked 'Aragorn's delirium - embarrassing blabbing ideas'.
Jess aka BRTW - Buffy's all the prophesy girl because the Valar gave it to her to keep a hold of Aragorn. He has a tendency to disappear when you're not looking, you know. As for the input, thanks a bunch!
K. McKenzie - yes, it's Aragorn/Buffy and Arwen/Legolas. And your idea is duly noted!
Lizdarcy2 - There will be pain in the future. Mucho pain. He will have angst, he just has to get his head out of the clouds before he sees his full folly. And as for the Slayer vs. Denethor… the man had no idea it would come to this…
N/A - Well, it's not her fist, but knives have their own appeal as well…. Input duly noted!
Pam - Aragorn will get his go at Denethor eventually, he has to recover first. The twins are scheming from afar, and your review was really excellent!
Restive Nature - blushing like mad Wow! What a review! Thanks! I myself like the Aragorn/Arwen fics but I really wanted to read a Buffy/Aragorn for a change but there were so few! So I wrote one of my own! Thanks for leaving such a great and encouraging review! :)
Seak - everyone to their own opinion.
Sheilynn - the 'evil square' is go! And thanks for all the compliments! But that image of Gandalf thumping them over the head with his staff was hilarious…
Shimmyontherooftops - In all fairness, grown up Boromir is much better than his father! And I do hope you're not gonna fall off that edge. I imagine it would be quite bruising too…
Wild320 - Oooh, you're gonna be waiting a while before they're together and happy! Our two favourite trouble magnets are not getting off that easy…
Wizathogwarts - blushes Thank you! Your compliments were so encouraging! I'm always happy to know when people think I've written Buffy and Aragorn well!
And major thanks to:
Batgirl Beyond, Brazen1, Crazicaza, deFox, Delphine Pryde, Dina, gaul1, imp17, Jania, Night-Owl123, Saint Maverick, Scruffybunny, ShawThang, Star, SuperDangerFrog, SuziJ, tash,
CHAPTER EIGHT: ALL IN A NIGHT'S WORK
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And come he slow or come he fast, it is but Death who comes at last.
- Sir Walter Scott
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Imladris was a long way from the guarded city, but the twins' mounts were making swift work of the long stretches of road. Their riders, not having the need for rest that mortals had, were content to let the horses pick out the way home to the valley while they resumed the plotting and scheming they were feared for.
Ever since Estel laid eyes on his 'Tinúviel', both twins had despaired of him giving up his pursuit of Arwen. Many had oft said that Arwen walked in their foremother Lúthien's likeness, but they knew that their father had long harboured the fear that his daughter would be akin to Lúthien in more than just looks, but by sharing her fate as well.
The twins, while often merry and full of mischief, had the capacity to be just as serious as their esteemed father when they felt the need was great enough for them to abandon their play. And the life of their beloved sister was indeed a need great enough to induce them to behave.
"A question, tôren," Elladan said ponderously, "Do you think he can survive her?"
"She is not a Balrog, muindor. She would not actually kill Aragorn."
"Yes, but Glorfindel…"
"Insulted her," Elrohir pointed out before he could finish the question, "And Aragorn is perfectly capable of dealing with her. You fret too much."
"She can break ribs from excessive hugging!" Elladan exclaimed, "'Twould hardly be fitting for Aragorn to finally restore the lines of Kings only to be crushed to death by dear Buffy."
"I somehow think that is very unlikely to happen. She would notice if Aragorn were to turn blue."
"So we are to encourage them then?"
"I cannot see how we can do otherwise," Elrohir said thoughtfully, "Buffy deserves her happiness as much as anyone and I for one will not deny her that. They would go well together if both of them would just stop being too stubborn to see it."
"Tôren, the day that Aragorn chooses the easy road is the day mumâkil fly. You know he does not trust anything he gains unless he must cross the fires of Mordor themselves to do it."
"A trait he really must outgrow someday. It grows wearisome after the first decade of enduring it."
"Now that we have assured ourselves we do the right thing, how shall we broach this with ada?"
"I think even an orc could come into the valley, deliver such a message and have ada dancing with glee." Elrohir scoffed, "He has been hoping for such an announcement from Aragorn these past thirty years."
"Think you he will have many ideas to urge the pyn neth along?" Elladan asked.
"I think he will have so many he will not know which one to pursue first."
"And to round out matters nicely, and have everything simply perfect for ada, all we have to do is convince Arwen to fall in love with an Elf. Have you got any suggestions?"
"She does oft spend her time with Haldir while she visits Lórien."
"'Tis only because daeradar insists on her having an escort when she ventures near the borders!" Elladan scoffed.
"Rumil? Erestor? Glorfindel? Lindir?"
"No, same problem as Haldir, too bookish, too adar-like and sings too much." Elladan said, dismissing each suggestion in turn.
Elrohir looked at him askance, "I can list every Elf in Arda and you would probably manage to find something undesirable about each and every single one! 'Tis nonsense to try to choose for Arwen. Think of something more cunning muindor…"
Elladan's eyes widened in comprehension, "Daernaneth! Of course, the mirror! Arwen shall not know what befell her! Tôren, 'tis a wonderful idea! I think a stop in the Golden Wood is needed ere we reach home, yes?"
"Nay, Arwen is there. We cannot raise her suspicions. We tell ada first and then he can tell daernaneth."
"Yet another excellent idea, tôren." Elladan agreed, mind whirling with ideas to put forth to their all too crafty grandmother, the Lady of the Golden Wood.
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Aragorn was feeling absolutely wretched. He had made his leave of the training grounds when he could not take it anymore and had returned to his rooms, feeling achy and miserable.
As the morning had worn on, he felt like he was coming down sick. His head hurt, throbbing viciously, he felt unbearably hot and his concentration was fleeting at best. He refused to admit that he felt as weak as a day old kitten but he knew his adar would personally murder him if he neglected to go to the healers.
Normally, he would have gone to Eliza for succour, but with their recent quarrel, he preferred to let her temper cool down ere he approached her again.
Fumbling with the laces of his breeches with clumsy fingers, he hastily changed out of his dirty clothing and pulled on a pair of new breeches. It was while he was trying to fasten the ties on his tunic that the first bout of dizziness assailed him.
Light-headed from the sudden stabbing pain, he pressed his hands to his head even as his legs crumpled from underneath him. Blinking to try to clear the sudden black spots before his eyes, he tried to raise himself up from the ground and failed miserably.
His breath was coming in harsh, shallow pants and the detached side of his brain informed him that this was not a good sign.
He knew something was seriously wrong and that he urgently needed the healers but he was too weak and in too much pain to move.
As the poison swept through his body, wreaking havoc as it went, his world was reduced to a pain wracked blur.
And so when the oblivion of unconsciousness beckoned to him, he went willingly to escape the pain.
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Buffy stomped up to Aragorn's rooms with all the apparance of a woman on the warpath. The man hadn't shown up for their meeting with the steward earlier that day and Ecthelion had sent her to fetch him.
If it wasn't bad enough that she had to watch his back, she now had to play babysitter. Couldn't the man keep track of the time for once?!
Her skirts swishing on the stone floor, she stalked down the corridor to his chambers.
She pounded on his door, accidentally making the wood shake in her ire, "Thorongil!" she called when she heard no answer. She knew he was in here, the servants had seen him go in but not come out so why wasn't he answering?
After a few minutes of banging on the door, she made up her mind to go in. "I'm coming in so you'd better be decent!" she shouted before flinging the door open.
She went through his rooms looking for him, entering his bedroom last, "You'd better not have fallen asleep on the job…. Thorongil!" she exclaimed, rushing to the downed figure on the floor.
From a cursory examination, she knew he was in bad shape. And that this was not naturally induced, people did not come down so seriously sick in the space of a few hours.
He had a bad fever, and she couldn't wake him up. Hurriedly flipping through her mental rolodex of illnesses, she came to the conclusion that she didn't have a clue what she was dealing with here.
Moving Aragorn so his head rested in her lap, she debated what to do. Aragorn was one of the Dúnedain, and they didn't get so ill without cause. Whatever was wrong with him, it was clear as day to her that she had to do something fast. She might not have a thermometer, but he was literally burning up!
Grabbing the taller man by the shoulders, she dragged him across the room to his bed and hefted him up on it. His weight might not be too much of a problem, but for someone as small as her, he was too awkward to carry.
Making sure he was as comfortable as he could be for the moment, she sprinted out the door in search of the chest of medicinal herbs and equipment Elrond had gifted her.
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'Twas when Buffy sped into Aragorn's chambers with her healing kit that the full knowledge of his plight was revealed to her. Placing her hand on his forehead so check his raging temperature, she was jolted into a vision, one of few that occurred while she was yet awake.
A fine powder was liberally sprinkled onto the fresh tea, the bread, and the scrambled eggs and a fresh pastry, making sure that it couldn't be seen…
The tray being placed on the table before Aragorn….
Aragorn drinking from the tainted cup….
Staggering back as the vision fled, Buffy's hands flew up to her mouth in shock. Here was something she was not well versed in…
Oh dear Eru… Buffy thought aghast, poison…
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"My Lord," a young maidservant said, curtsying as she slipped into the room, "The Lady Eliza sent this to you, my Lord. She said you must read it immediately for it is most urgent, my Lord."
Nodding to the nervous girl, Ecthelion took the rolled parchment from her and waved her away. Unrolling it swiftly, he read the scrawled script.
Ecthelion,
Thorongil is very ill. I must stay with him in his chambers 'til he has recovered. I don't know what's wrong with him yet and I admit it's not looking good. His fever is fierce and is refusing to break and I cannot pinpoint the cause for this sudden illness as he is not awake to tell me anything. But I have reason to believe its cause is poison. Of what kind I do not know.
Suffice it to say, both of us will not be making an appearance in regards to our duties anytime in the near future. And it would be best if you covered for both of us so we don't arouse suspicion. If someone is trying to kill Thorongil, I'd rather not give them a second chance at it.
Eliza.
Re-reading the letter in shock, Ecthelion threw it into the fire to burn every trace of it. And with worry blossoming in his heart, he hastened away to the rooms of his favoured captain.
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Buffy was not altogether surprised when Ecthelion burst into the room. "I figured you'd come," she said, knowing that he was frantic at the thought as the last heir of Gondor lying on death's door.
"How is he? Have you any idea who did it?" Ecthelion blurted.
"He's anything but good and if I had any idea who did it, they'd be facing the sharp end of my sword about now."
"Is there anything you can do for him?"
"Without knowing the poison, not a hell of a lot except for trying to bring down his fever and keep him in the land of the living." Buffy said, wearily sinking into a seat besides the bed.
"But surely you can do something to save him?" the steward exclaimed in dismay, pacing the room in agitation.
"I'll do everything I can but if you could have someone bring me a fresh change of clothes, some food for me, broth for him, some cold water and a few compresses and most importantly, every book or scroll on poisons the houses of healing know of, it would help a lot."
"I shall see to it immediately," Ecthelion agreed, "But surely there is someone with the skill to save him?"
"There is but they live too far away to be brought here in time," Buffy said. "Unfortunately it's gonna be up to us mere mortals to help him, or…"
"Or what?!"
Her reply was such that he had to strain to hear her damning words.
"Or he's gonna die," Buffy said softly.
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After nearly being knocked over by his father in the Steward's haste, Denethor soon dragged the reason for his father's disquiet out of him. As soon as the older man was out of sight, he had to resist the urge to curse viciously while stalking back to his rooms.
That Eliza was a constant nuisance to him! And entirely too lucky for his taste. She could not be allowed to save Thorongil, even if she could. He had worked too long and hard to fail now.
While he did feel sorry for Thorongil's plight, he had not done this out of his personal hatred of the man. Gondor had to be strong. This Aragorn's succession would only cause civil unrest at a time when Gondor needed every able man they could get to stand against the shadow.
He did this for the good of his people, for their future and the heir of Isildur had to die to secure that. He almost felt pity for the sharp-tongue healer as well. 'Twould have been better if she had kept well out of this. But now Thorongil's eventual fate would also have to be hers ere she discovered who had engineered his malady.
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Buffy had been poring through musty old books for the last two hours. Ecthelion hadn't been slow in getting the Houses of Healing involved and they had dumped huge stacks in the outer room and now she was blearily wading through them. Who knew their could be so many different poisons? Even her vision of the greyish powder hadn't narrowed it down significantly.
Aragorn had only gotten worse as the hours had gone by and Buffy was sincerely worried that he wouldn't pull through this. Elrond had been a very thorough teacher when it came to the injuries of war, but it took many years before one was skilful at anything besides the usual patch 'em up.
The only thing that stopped Buffy from calling in half the Houses of Healing staff to help, was that she didn't know who had done this. And that the would be killer had had access to the healing houses store cupboards wasn't entirely implausible. Which meant Buffy was on her own. Oh, if only Elladan and Elrohir had stayed a while longer!
Seeing Aragorn moving restlessly from his ever-climbing fever, Buffy bent over him to place a new cold cloth on his forehead. And while she was checking on the fallen man, she heard the tell tale sound of an arrow being loosed.
With lightning speed, her hand shot out and snatched the brown fletched arrow out of the air. Her hand clenched around it so tightly that splinters were embedded in her palm but Buffy had not been one of the most successful slayers to ever walk the earth due to lack of talent at her job.
Her long dress may have been more awkward to fight in but she'd had plenty of experience of demons attacking her at every sort of occasion, including her prom. Slipping the deadly knives she kept hidden beneath her ever present gauntlets into her hands, she pivoted sharply in the direction the projectile had come from, and only a quick dodge to the side saved her from an untimely arrow through her chest.
Launching herself over the armchair in her way, she deftly dodged the slew of arrows embedding themselves in the floor around her. Hefting her knives, she fully intended to capture this assassin, and make him explain very clearly what he had used on Aragorn.
With speed unknown to most mortals, and which was more than enough to surprise her assailant, she stormed into the outer sitting room, where a rapidly fleeing man carting a bow could be seen disappearing round the corner.
Scowling angrily, Buffy gave chase and soon overtook the shooter. Jumping him and knocking him flat on his stomach, she had a knee in the small of his back and a knife at his throat ere he could even cry out. "You even think about moving and I'll slit your throat," she hissed.
Grabbing a fistful of the dark hair with her free hand, not caring if she cut it with the second knife she still held, she yanked his head up for a good look at his face and nearly slammed said face into the ground again when she saw who it was.
"Denethor?!" she gasped out, before her eyes narrowed with fury and the wrath of the slayer simmered beneath her skin, giving her an air so fearsome that Denethor closed his eyes in fear at the sight of her and tried to turn away.
"You poisoned Thorongil," she snarled, "And you tried to kill me. Tell me, what will your father do to you when he hears about this? Put you in the stocks or the dungeons? Exile you? Send you to the hangman's noose?" she said silkily, and with an underlying air of menace. "Perhaps I should take care of the problem for him?"
"You think that my lord father is going to believe a silly outlander whore over his own son and heir?" he said with as much arrogance as he could muster.
The blade at this throat dug into his skin painfully, drawing a thin line of blood. "I think Ecthelion is going to believe the arrows embedded in the floor of Thorongil's rooms," she answered before flexing the blade once more, "Now you're gonna be a good little assassin and tell me what poison you used on Aragorn. And I mean now." she growled, tightening her grip on his hair.
"It will not avail you," Denethor said with all the calm of one about to die for his cause, "There is no cure for what assails him."
"That's for me to decide! Now tell me or you're gonna find yourself missing an arm!" she threatened, removing her hand from his hair and instead pressing the blade to the inside of his left arm, just below his elbow.
Denethor swallowed but remained stoic in the face of his soon to be amputation, "'Tis from a plant that grows in the Morgul Vale. A poison used by the orcs. Called Gayalas. I have no antidote."
"Then I have no use for you for now," Buffy said, getting up but keeping a foot on the man's back to keep him pressed to the floor. "But I'll be back to deal with you later."
"You are loosing me?" Denethor said in disbelief. Buffy didn't bother to reply.
"Run little boy," Buffy said menacingly, "Because when I get my hands on you, you're gonna wish you had thrown yourself off a tower."
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Rivendell. 2978, Third Age.
Two smugly smirking Elves, identical in face and form, sat before Elrond's desk in his study and he looked upon them with much amusement. 'Twas a rare treat to see the twins in such a manner. Smugly happy, without having caused havoc, which meant no long line of irate Elves waiting to vent their grievances on the unfortunate sire of two of the worst rascals to ever besiege Middle Earth.
"Well, what brings you here, nín gwenyn?" Elrond asked, breaking the deadlock.
"'Tis simple ada," Elladan said, "We bring you tidings from Estel and Buffy."
"Aye," Elrohir said, backing up his twin, "Great tidings indeed from our point of view."
Elrond was even more bemused now, and leaning back in his chair, he raised one elegant arch of an eyebrow, "Is this where I am supposed to ask you what tidings you bring or shall you just tell me?"
"Estel seems to have taken a fancy to Buffy, as has she for him." Elladan said bluntly, shocking his sire.
Elrond processed that information after his shock wore off and had to stamp down on the tides of rising elation. "What of regard for Arwen?" he asked carefully.
"I think dear Buffy should efficiently render him helpless to her charms if she would just agree to let him court her." Elrohir answered.
Elrond's intent gaze sharpened, "She has refused him?"
Elladan snorted most unbecomingly, "Out of some misguided sense of honour, and some… irritation at Aragorn's phrasing of such a request. We believe a little… encouragement should set things to right fairly quickly."
"Why Elladan," Elrond said amusedly, "Are you suggesting we meddle in the affairs of the heart between these two?"
Elrohir answered for his twin, "Of course! What else? And we want you to enlist daernaneth's help in this matter. We wish her to try and find Arwen's mate in her mirror so that we can attack this problem from two sides ere it steals our sister from us."
"My sons," Elrond began, a smile blossoming on his face, "For once, your mischief may be justified. I shall see you have all the aid you need. Let it not be said that the Lord of the Valley does not fail to ensure the happiness of others so dear to him." He met his sons' grey eyes, so much like his own, "Mayhap we can save Arwen from her foremother's fate after all. And to assure such a thing, I will do my utmost best to ensure that Aragorn and Buffy are wedded and bedded ere he ever turns his sight to Undómiel again."
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In the days and nights that followed Denethor's revelation, Buffy slaved to find a cure for the poison of the Morgul plant. But she was not skilled in the healing of wounds inflicted by Sauron and his servants and indeed, there were few left in Middle Earth to boast such skill, most having sailed West. Only Elrond and his children, including Aragorn, had any great skill in healing such maladies.
And after reading the grisly accounts of the deaths caused by Sauron's devilry, Buffy fully understood why so many never survived such illnesses. The victims died painfully and often slowly. And few had the strength or the skill to push back the shadow.
Buffy had nearly freaked, envisioning getting shouted at by Gil-galad, Elrond, Galadriel, the twins and Arwen when they found out that the last of Isildur's line, and her assigned charge, was dead. That would just go over so well with them. Hell, they'd probably give her a first class ticket to wherever dead men ended up here. After all, though it was hard to believe, Galadriel actually knew the guy in charge of the Halls of Mandos. It was a scary thought that.
Finding the right book with the lovely little killer plant in it hadn't helped her morale any. It spouted a lot of long-winded waffle nonsense and the ever so helpful words 'no known cure'. And with a nifty side note, saying that there may have been some cases that were healed by the power of the Elves.
Who lived nowhere near Gondor.
And so Buffy had thought, and pondered, and pondered some more until at last she hit on something useful she might be able to try. It was a long shot. A very long shot. But hey, she thought, what did she have to lose?
Her theory went like this; The First Slayer had been a normal girl who had been forced into absorbing the essence of one hell of a nasty demon. Said girl had become the Vampire Slayer, the first edition model. Now that legacy of darkness had been passed down to every successive slayer, even if she did think Faith received just a little too much darkness when it came to her share.
Sauron may be Lord of all Evil at the moment, but he most certainly was not the scariest big bad out there. Buffy, while fighting for the good guys, had the heritage of a demon. Why not make use of that? She'd seen Elrond do this trance thing a few times. Ok, he had the power of being inherently good, being an Elf and all that and she didn't have that.
But what she did have might just be better.
It was a crazy shot and it might even end up speeding the poison up. It was a risk she would have to take. Aragorn was dying anyway, even if she shortened the amount of time she had left, at least she would have tried instead of all this helpless watching and waiting.
Locking the door to the room behind her she prepared herself for the trial ahead. Crossing over to the bed, she settled herself down on it, leaning against the headboard and put one hand on Aragorn's forehead. By the Valar, he felt like he was burning alive! With mixed feelings, she drew out one of her knives. Picking up Aragorn's limp hand, she sliced a thin line into the flesh of his palm, and then did the same to one of hers. And then with a wince, joined their hands so that the bloody cuts mingled.
She placed her free hand on Aragorn's forehead and took a steadying breath, and tried to meditate, to reach that place where she could feel her power. Grabbing it with both hands, she held it firmly and tried to use that strength to force the poison out of Aragorn's veins. "Aragorn!" she called, knowing that Westron would not be enough for him to hear. The language of his youth was Elvish, and so Elvish she would have to use.
"A si i-Dhúath ú-orthor, Aragorn. Ú or le a ú or nin. Lasto beth nîn. Tolo dan na ngalad!" The Shadow does not hold sway yet. Not over you, and not over me. Hear my voice, come back to the light! she said, and then gasped for breath as she felt something, no.. someone grab for her power, using her strength to fuel their own.
Almost immediately she knew she was out of her depth but she had chosen this, there would be no backing out until it ended. Still reeling from the violation of her very being, she uncertainly reached out in turn, totally ignorant of what she was doing, and felt for the one who leeched off her so readily. Her thoughts steadied when she realised that it was only Aragorn and that obviously Elrond was a lot more capable at keeping an emotionless face than she gave him credit for. If she had known this was what it was like!…
Whether she was ready or not, she had started this and she had to finish it, or stay in this strange limbo 'til one or both of them were dead. She gave herself over to her slayer self's urgings as it seemed to know what to do, and started when she felt a voice brush her mind. 'Tulu' Help! it cried. And boy, just when she thought it couldn't get any weirder….
Pushing away her fear at this new phenomenon she was experiencing, after all Willow had always been the one to mess with the mojos, she reached out again to try and soothe his panic. After all, at least she had gone into this knowing something was about to happen. He, on the other hand, was panicking at the seeming invasion of his mind.
After all, she didn't give off the calming aura of an Elf, or the ordinary presence of one of the race of Men. Her heritage sprang from the darker side of things, and it was this that was panicking him now."No veren! Govaetham! Ú i vethed... nâ i onnad. Mâb le i nagor, bâd gurth vi ngalad firiel Han bâd lîn." Be bold! We shall fight together! This is not the end... it is the beginning. The war is upon you, death moves in the fading light. That is your path. she urged him, needing to secure his help in his own healing. She couldn't do all the work! She wasn't a miracle worker altogether!
The response came quicker this time, though still uncertain for he knew not her intent, but the tether that bound them together increased in strength as he actively pursued his own healing. "Dolen i vâd o nin." My path is hidden from me. he answered plaintively, lost in the poison."Si peliannen i vâd na dail lîn." It is already laid before your feet. Buffy reassured him, "Si boe ú-dhannathach." You cannot falter now."Andelu i ven." The road is too dangerous. he said as he struggled to follow her voice, struggled to come to his own survival.
"Gerich varied nín." You have my protection. Buffy said, trying to help drag him away from the clutches of death that swarmed him, and even as she did, she started to feel wearied herself. There was only so much she could give and keep her own life…
Gur nín ped enni, dan ú-vedin." My heart tells me to, but I can't go.
"Dartho guin enni!" Stay with me! Buffy implored him, she could drag him no further. He had to go the rest of the way under his own steam.
"Si le nallon!" Here I cry to you! Aragorn called in despair, knowing not whether to trust her any farther and fearing that it was Sauron that so masterfully gripped his mind.
"Tolo hi!" Come now! she demanded, pouring all her will into the call. Surely she was stronger than some half-dead Morgul sorcery?
"Ú-belin teled. Le nallon hi ne daw. Telithar!" I cannot come. To thee I cry now, in the night! They will come! he said referring to the dark magicks that sought to claim him and his life.
"Telithach! No diriel! " You will come! Be watchful! Buffy ordered, this was not the time for Aragorn to flounder even if he more than a little right to do so.
"Telithon. But his weakness flows in my veins, I shall not make it back." I will come. Aragorn said, his own doubts assailing him now. He was lucky in some ways, Buffy thought, at least he had someone who had died twice already as his own personal guide back to the land of the living. And hopefully healthy.
"Cenin venn veren ar vaer." I see a brave and good man. Buffy reassured him soothingly, "Isildur's mistake will not be your own. You will make a good king. Do not despair."
"Onen estel in edain. Ú-chebin estel anim." I gave the people hope. I do not keep hope for myself. Aragorn said, airing his woes as his own doubts began to drag him back.
"Hebo estel." Have hope. she pleaded, not ready to have gone to all this trouble only to lose him. And for some other reasons that she refused to admit to herself at this point.
"Im nauthon iol hen taith en úmarth dolel." I think this dream is a sign of coming doom. Aragorn said angrily, "Why do you torment me so? I have chosen exile, leave me be!""ôl dûr ristannen. Awake!" The dark sleep is broken Buffy said.
"Man eneth lín?" What is thy name? he asked, desiring to know who she was, this presence in his mind.
"Berion in edain in ú-vill. Maethon an Ngondor. Maethon dam Mordor. Aníral toled an govaded nin?" I protect the men who are not strong. I fight for Gondor. I fight against Mordor. Do you want to come to meet me?
"Man sad tellil?" Where are you from? he asked.
"Bennin na Hellmouth. Io anann. Mín dagnir vaethanner dan uan. A dan affaeg. Cennin firn-i-chuinar nan had hen. Sa eithel i naid faeg. Maethannen vaer ar veren i goth." I went to the Hellmouth. Long ago. We slayers fought against monsters. And against worse. I saw dead who lived at that place. It was the source of bad things. I fought the enemy well and bravely." Buffy answered sadly, feeling him draw further away from the poison with every word.
"Man ceril?" What do you do?
"Im maethor a neston." I'm a fighter and a healer. Buffy answered, her thoughts becoming increasingly slow as she grew exhausted from her efforts. But it was working, Aragorn was nearly there. Nearly safe.
"Awake Aragorn. Come back to me. Come!" she implored one last time and was rewarded with the sight of Aragorn opening his blurry eyes for a second. Relieved and exhausted beyond measure, she collapsed onto the bed beside the sleeping ranger, their hands still joined together.
And unknown to her, one slinking strand of the tether she'd forgotten to cut still lay between them…
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Buffy only woke after a couple of hours had passed, and she was surprised to see the moon had risen fully. She had only started her last desperate attempt in the early afternoon. And for all her rejuvenated healing, she was still bone tired and felt weaker than was her wont.
Checking on Aragorn ere she closed her eyes again, she was surprised to find him caught up in a dark dream, no doubt induced by the fever which, while it was no longer deadly, still raged within him, causing him to mumble deliriously.
Out of curiosity she listened for a while, not willing to wake him from the sleep he needed and indeed, too tired to care for her patient when she was in such a state herself.
"Then bitter will my days be and I will walk in the wild alone…" Aragorn said before his brow furrowed and he started to recite something that oft haunted his memory, "The One Ring, which shall be an heirloom of my kingdom. All those who follow in my bloodline shall be bound to its fate, for I will risk no hurt to the Ring. It is precious to me... though I buy it with a great pain… The markings upon the band begin to fade. The writing which at first was as clear as red flame, has all but disappeared, a secret now that only fire can tell… Ai! His weakness flows in my veins…"
She reached out to touch and sooth him back to a peaceful slumber lest he ended up hitting her while he slept, but stopped when she heard his next words. "Mathon vorn." I feel a darkness… he said restlessly, seeming to her eyes to be caught in something. A vision perhaps? She knew he was so gifted. "Into each generation one is born… to stand against the darkness… one in all the world…."
The familiar words shocked her to the core. No, it couldn't be! She denied. She couldn't have saved him only for him to desert her because of what she was! She couldn't force herself to be calm, the effort was too great for her sleep-weary mind. And so she listened to her undoing.
"Whither does she come? Through shadow and death… the one Chosen to stop them…" he trailed off when Buffy shook him lightly, unable to let him reveal her secret any further. It worked and he relaxed into the bedding, but the next thing he revealed cut her more than anything he had said before.
"Tinúviel! Tinúviel!" he cried softly, "Do not go from me my love! Lady Evenstar, fairest in this world, and most beloved! I beg of thee, do not leave me! My heart is ever yours…"
Buffy could listen no more, there was only so much one woman should have to put up with. But god, what had she expected with her track record? There was Angel, with the little pesky problem of losing his soul; Ford, who wanted to be a vamp; Scott, who didn't really like her; Parker, who was an utter loser; Riley, who wanted to be macho man and Spike, who was a demon for half of their relationship and who'd been wrongly used by her. Had she really expected her luck to change here?
She was obviously cursed.
Ignoring the urge to cry, and blinking back the tears that stubbornly welled up, she rose from the bed unsteadily and grabbed a vial of mild sleeping drought. It was mild and mostly unnecessary but it would stop Aragorn from waking her with his ramblings. Swallowing it, she settled in the chair by the bed and allowed the sweet lure of slumber to take her.
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'Twas nearly two days later when Aragorn awoke from his feverish sleep. Struggling to push himself up, he noticed Eliza, sound asleep, head and shoulders resting on the bed but the rest of her crammed into the chair beside. The very sight of her made him wince in sympathy.
Struggling to recall how he got here, he remembered vague impressions of some fiery pain taking him over, making him struggle for every laboured breath, and a woman… Eliza, nursing him. Strangely, he also remembered a voice inside his head, calling him back from the brink of death and giving him the strength he needed to fight. He shook his head at the very thought, and winced as his throbbing head protested the movement, and wondered at the absurd notions filling him.
Looking at Eliza, he saw the pale tone of her skin, and the dark circles under her eyes that bespoke of her exhaustion. She must have cared for him all this time. Strange though, that he equated her with the voice that had called him from the darkness.
Already, he could feel tiredness creeping up on him again and he knew that he would not be long awake today. He would have to wait to find out what had stricken him 'til his healer's own condition was in a better state.
Neither could he leave her in such a strait, she would be sore and stiff when she woke and the bed was plenty big enough for two.
Reaching out to the smaller figure, he gently gathered her to him and pulled her from the chair and fully up onto the bed. She stirred slightly, long lashes fluttering, but did not wake. Pulling the covers over her with arms that shook from his exertion, he rolled over onto his side and pressed his head to the pillow, content in the knowledge that all was well now.
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Buffy groggily stirred from her herb-aided sleep. Surprisingly enough, she was warm, content and feeling something strange, which she couldn't quite place… Secure, that was it. In her line of work, the feeling was fleeting if it ever came at all.
Logically, she knew something was up, she never felt this way when she woke, being a freely admitted early morning grouch. But 'twas only when she shifted that she felt the warm weight around her waist and the firmer warmth at her back.
Eyes snapping open, she found herself locked in an embrace with…. Oh dear Eru, with Aragorn! How the hell did she end up in the bed? She distinctly remembered sleeping in the chair! Obviously Aragorn had decided to be overly helpful in soliciting her comfort and she honestly didn't know whether to be pleased or horrified.
She held tightly to his hard chest, her head tucked under his chin, and he had looped an arm around her waist, holding her in place against him. If this wasn't a compromising situation, she didn't know what was! Not to mention that it had been just about eight years since she last got any and here was one yummy specimen…. Oooh, bad Buffy, she admonished herself, very, very bad Buffy!
And very bad Aragorn if what she felt pressing into her rear was any indication. Again, she didn't know whether to be pleased or horrified, but the thought that he was probably dreaming naughty thoughts of Arwen quickly soured her mood.
It was time to get the hell out of dodge before they both embarrassed themselves. Gently picking up Aragorn's arm, she wriggled her way out of his grasp, ignoring the fact that he tried to tighten his grip on her.
Standing up, and ignoring the resulting light-headedness and furtively trying to straighten out her blue wool dress which was now wrinkled beyond repair, she allowed herself one last longing glance at the man who held her heart, whether he wanted it or not, (Which he didn't), before she left to seek some food and to freshen up a bit.
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He was awake when she returned and he eyed her with unabashed curiosity as she carried a tray of light food to him. She felt better now that she had changed, had a bath and eaten some food herself.
And it was nice to see him alert instead of delirious for a change. "Aníral maded? Aníral sogad?" Do you want to eat? Do you want to drink? she asked, holding the tray aloft in invitation. At his nod, she plopped the tray onto his lap and swiftly felt for his temperature, "Man mathach?" How do you feel? she inquired, wanting to make sure the poison was well and truly flushed out of his system.
"Im maer." I'm well. he answered stoically but after a disbelieving and irritated look from her, changed his tune, "Im lhaew." I'm ill. he answered honestly before switching to Westron, "What happened?"
Buffy ignored his question and gestured sharply for him to start eating, "No ce ammaer ab lu thent." Hopefully you will be better soon. she said, "But I still want to know exactly how you're feeling buddy. In detail."
Aragorn winced at the very Elrond-like tone; the one that meant 'tell me now or I shall drag it out of you and then drug you for the next week.' "My chest hurts, my head hurts… in fact I ache all over. My strength has fled me, I feel weak and tired, and this broth is making me nauseous."
"You haven't been on solid food for a week, you need to eat this," Buffy said sternly. "And if you're a good boy, I might just tell you how you landed in here."
Glaring balefully at her, he eat quickly and soon was trying to bore a hole into her with eyes to induce her into giving him some idea of what was going on.
"You were poisoned," Buffy said bluntly, "By your esteemed fellow captain Denethor. You nearly died, and I'm not exaggerating here. No one expected you to survive."
"Denethor? Poisoned me?" Aragorn said in surprise and anger, "Why?"
"He said something about it being for the good of Gondor. I was a little busy threatening him at the time to pay attention to his 'for the greater good' ranting."
"Threatened him?"
"Exactly how did you think you are still here, in the land of the living?" Buffy asked, "After he tried shooting you, or me, I'm still not sure on that, I encouraged him to tell me what he'd done to you."
"Is he still alive?" Aragorn asked.
Buffy glared at him, "For the moment anyway. I only threatened him with amputation. No biggie."
Aragorn digested that and then took a deep breath, "Then it seems I owe you a great debt. This is not the first time you have saved my life. I do not know how I can repay you."
"How about not trying to die so often?" Buffy said flippantly, "It would give me more free time if I didn't have to spend it all patching up you. Now listen here, you're not getting out of that bed until I say so. Or there will be some nasty consequences, for you anyway. Got it?"
Aragorn nodded his head in acquiescence, his mind occupied by the recent assassination attempt.
"I'll see you later than," Buffy said, "There's a little boy I've got to go deal with."
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As Buffy left in a swirl of skirts, Aragorn contemplated his most recent foray into the world of the nearly dead. Denethor would not have attacked without reason, and that meant that either Denethor really wanted him dead or he had figured out his true identity.
That would most certainly be enough to rouse the proud lord to perform such deeds. But it also made one thing abundantly clear to Aragorn; his time in Gondor was almost over, and the time for him to leave was swiftly approaching.
He could linger here in the land of his ancestors no longer. He had already overstayed his time.
Eliza knew more than she was saying also, he was certain. She had spoke of his poisoning by Denethor too casually for one who did not know what goals lay behind it. And then she had mentioned something about the steward's heir trying to shoot her? He shook his head, now was not the time to be debating Eliza's motivations.
She had saved his life many times over and for that alone, he would have to trust her.
He just wished he could trust Denethor not to take advantage of his weakened state to finish the task he had started…
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Unbeknownst to Aragorn, Denethor was a little… occupied at the time. Being attacked by a blonde she-dragon had a way of clearing your mind of other priorities. Eliza slammed him into the wall again and he felt the air leave his chest with a great whoosh. She circled him, poking him with her sword every so often. "What am I to do with you?" she mused as she eyed him like a hawk would a mouse, "You tried to kill a good friend of mine. Not to mention me! Do I really have to tell you exactly how I feel about that? 'Cos I'm in enough of a snit as it is."
Denethor gulped as the blade found a resting point in a rather sensitive place, a lot lower than his neck. "Should I cut this off?" Buffy said evilly, "I'm not sure whether you should be allowed to breed and bring more of your stupidity into the world."
She turned around and when she next faced him, he took back the dragon comment. No dragon could be this fearsome. He had to keep himself from quaking at the very sight of her.
"Now, I'm gonna be nice and not kill you like you deserve," Buffy said icily, "But you are gonna stay away from me and Thorongil or I'll have your daddy hang you in a nice public execution. Do I make myself clear?"
He nodded weakly.
"Whatever Thorongil decides to do with you is unfortunately up to him, but I'm sure you understand that I can't allow you to run off and try to kill someone again. This is gonna hurt you as much as it hurts me. I think." she said as she swiftly grabbed and snapped his sword arm. Denethor howled in pain as the bone broke.
Buffy looked at him stonily, "I'll probably get in trouble for only doing that and not killing you, but I'm not about to stoop to your level. I'm no murderer. Stay out of my way Denethor, or you may force my hand towards something I don't wanna do."
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A/N: Well? What do you think? Please READ and REVIEW!!!
Next chapter: Aragorn wages war on the Corsairs as he plans to leave Gondor… The pirates get the luck to meet that 'fair-haired she-warg' again… and Buffy gets an unexpected, and not exactly welcome, surprise that may have grave consequences for her beyond her imaginings…
Elvish:
tôren - my brother
Muindor - brother
pyn neth - young ones
Daeradar - grandfather
Daernaneth - grandmother
gaya - dread
Las - leaf
Gayalas - dread-leaf
nín gwenyn - my twins
Undómiel - Evenstar
The guarded city - Minas Tirith. The city was once called 'Minis Anor' - 'Tower of the Sun' but it's name was changed when both Minas Ithil and Osgiliath fell.
Imladris - Rivendell
Morgul Vale - once housed a city of Gondor called Minas Ithil 'Tower of the Moon' but was overrun by Sauron before the Last Alliance. It is now a province of Mordor that houses the Ringwraiths that do not hold Dol Guldur in Mirkwood.
