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: thanks for the reviews! And please take a look at my QUESTION at the very end of this chapter as it involves serious plot developments depending on the person chosen.

Review responses:

Alliana Greenleaf Halliwe - Merry and Pippin? That would be funny! And yes, she will be continuing on and kicking butt all the way up to Fellowship time.

Anna - Buffy will find Aragorn. Where she finds him is the problem! And Buffy's definitely making a name for herself!

Batgirl Beyond - (nods head). eats a lot of things… But Buffy's gonna have to make her way through a lot of obstacles before she can find Aragorn and kill him…

BuffyandDracoLover - both actually.

Catlimere - No, Aragorn can't sense Buffy though it will take Galadriel to explain why to her. And yes, it's gonna be a very big Elven conspiracy! (grins) Yep, Buffy's 'warrior maiden' ways will be Éowyn's bedtime stories! And the Rohirrim rescue will benefit her in the long run. The Twins? They could probably involve half of Arda! And let's just say that Aragorn's going to be pretty damn grateful to see her. That man just lives for trouble!

ChibiChibi - Buffy's gonna show a LOT of people not to mess with her in this chapter!

Delphine Pryde - He should learn. Eventually. But yes, there will be lots and lots of pain.

DeFox - I'm proud of being evil, and trust me, plenty of more evilness on the way! (cackles madly)

Eámanë Aldaríon of Rivendell - Mae govannen! :) Oh, she has met little toddler Boromir, I just never wrote it into a chapter. It probably won't come up until she meets him again in Rivendell. Ok, to answer your questions, I made Aragorn go to Mordor because it says that that's where he went after he left Gondor in the appendices. No reason was disclosed so I made one up. Read on to find out. As for the betrothal, oh that would be giving too much away but let's just say there's gonna be four people on Cerin Amroth, and only two of them happy. (grins evilly) My beta told me that I was pure evil for planning what I have but you'll have to wait to see if you agree. As for the Moria, you have given me an idea there. (grins again) and so yes, I will write about Aragorn's first visit to Khazad-dûm. And thanks for all the compliments, you're so sweet and encouraging!

Fallenadieu - (blushes) Thanks a bunch! Such praise always leaves me giddy! :)

Gaul1 - I think 'ready to kill an entire HORDE of orcs' is Buffy's mad level.

Haley - Thanks for the comments on the one-liners. Honestly, I just write and then discover the nuances of what I've written later. I've decided when I'm being Miss Super-Speedy Updater at the moment (at least compared to my usual pace!), with my muse working overtime, to just write what comes to mind and check it over later!

Herald-Mage Brianna - Too true.

Janellybean - when are they gonna get their acts together? Gee, that's a tough one. So many obstacles, so little time…

Jess aka BRTW - You're forgiven! I want my cookie now! And Aragorn's ass will be kicked, just not by her. Yet.

Jo - Buffy will most definitely be hopping mad when she catches up to him! Especially when she finds out where he is!

Lady of the Wood - Aragorn was around ninety at the time of the War of the Ring. Boromir was like forty years younger. Aragorn was born in 2931, so he's forty-nine now in 2980, which the present chapter is set in. Buffy was twenty-two when she arrived in ME, so she's thirty-two now, though she's soon gonna realise she hasn't aged a day. Boromir is two at the time. During the War of the Ring (3018 - 3019), Aragorn will be 87/88. Buffy, being seventeen years younger, will be the very elderly age of 70/71. Boromir will be 40/41. But please remember, those descended from the Númenóreans have longer lifespans and most only show their age at the end of their life.

N/A - the surprise started with Aragorn knocking her out and the 'Buffy-dar'. Said surprise will continue to evolve until Galadriel spills the beans.

Pam - The good genes skip a generation, they all bypassed Denethor and went straight to Boromir and Faramir. And yeah, the pirates are based on Jack Sparrow and his gang of pirates. That film was the quintessential pirate flick. There can be no better portrayal of a pirate in my opinion. Buffy's surprise, was in part Aragorn's action against her, but it will be constantly unfolding until she's back in Lórien, (about two chapters away) where it's gonna kick her in the gut. And Aragorn wasn't thinking so much with his head as with his (being wilfully ignored) heart.

Restive Nature - Thanks! And Aragorn will have a world of hurt already by the time Buffy catches up with him.

Samarakerina - Beyond mad is not an adequate description. As for your addiction, well, here's your next fix!

ShawThang - Thanks a bunch! You're so encouraging! And yeah, Aragorn's a wanted man. Literally.

Shimmyontherooftops - Hitting him is a bit out of the question at the moment. She has to get him first.

Wild320 - To answer your question, there will be in the future.

Wizathogwarts - Aragorn had to choose between idle curiosity and keeping her alive. At least, that would be his reasoning. I'm sure Buffy would see it very differently.

And major thanks to:

AznMi, Boo, Jania, JeanB, Malfeus, mari, (you're alive!), Night-Owl123, Tkiwi,

CHAPTER TEN: TO COME OUT OF SHADOW

All of this chapter is set in the year 2980 of the Third Age, approximately the month of Narvinyë (January)

Buffy woke up slowly, her head felt kind of heavy but she was warm and comfortable and she wanted to go back to sleep. But that idea was put aside thanks to a little niggling feeling at the back of her mind. Giving up any thoughts of a lie-in, she rolled over onto her back and tried to remember had she been drinking. She couldn't have a hangover, could she?

Memory flared then as the events of last night came back to her. Her eyes snapped open and she was sitting up in a flash, sheer fury twisting her features, "I'm gonna kill him!" she hissed, as she got up, ignoring the slight dizziness, "So he thinks he can knock me out and get away with it!" she snarled as she stomped over to the tent flap, "I'm going to show him the meaning of the word 'pain'! Stupid chivalry-loving, medieval knight wannabe!"

Throwing open the flap with a fierce scowl, she reached out with her Buffy-dar to try and find where he was hiding. She was going to rip him a new one! He'd be crying when she was through with him!

Her Buffy-dar seemed to think Mr Soon To Be Dead Aragorn was nowhere near. Her mood going from livid to fire-breathing mad! Death was obviously too good for him. Way too good for him.

Storming through the camp with all the impact of Sauron himself, if he had been marching through it with about a thousand orcs, her thoroughly fearsome expression scattered men in her wake, most of them deciding not to get within twenty feet of the obviously rip-roaring mad lieutenant. Especially not when she was fingering her sword and muttering to herself.

Never let it be said that Gondorians didn't have a good sense of self-preservation.

Sadly, her under-lieutenant didn't get a chance to run and before he could find somewhere to hide from the rampaging slayer, she had him cornered. "Where. Is. He?" she hissed.

Taron, the poor under-lieutenant, gulped and took his own life in his hands by saying, "Who, my lady?"

Buffy's eyes narrowed into thin slits, "Thorongil! That's who!" she shouted, "Where in the name of Eru is he?!"

"He left, my lady."

"Well, I know that! Where. Did. He. Go?!"

"He crossed the Anduin two nights ago, my lady."

Buffy blinked, taken aback, "Two nights ago?!" she said, "And why did no one wake me?"

"Captain Thorongil left orders not to, my lady."

"He resigned! Why the hell did you follow them?!!" Buffy yelled, throwing her hands up in the air, "Great, so he's got a two day head start on me! Just brilliant! I don't suppose you saw where he went, did you?"

"The men that ferried him across the river said that he was headed in the direction of the Mountains of Shadow." Taron said nervously, fidgeting slightly under her fierce glower.

Buffy gaped at him for a minute. By the Valar, Mordor! What was the idiot doing in Mordor?! Did he have an even bigger death wish than he already had?! By Eru, why couldn't her life ever be easy?!

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Firing in her very abrupt resignation to the now thoroughly shocked and panicked under-lieutenant, who didn't have the slightest clue how he was going to explain this all to the Steward, Buffy headed back to her tent to finish packing. She was gonna have to move double-quick to catch up with that sneaky little pig Aragorn.

'Twas a brave man that intercepted the fuming slayer on her route back.

Buffy levelled another of her black glares at the Rohirrim that waylaid her. "Move out of the way, I don't have time for this!" she snapped, knowing that with every passing minute, Aragorn was getting further away from her and closer to his death in Mordor.

The blonde man didn't flinch, and didn't beat around the bush either, "I am Éomund of Eastfold, chief Marshal of the Mark and I am in your debt." he said, bowing formally, long blonde hair falling into his eyes as he did so, "Shelter and succour shall always be found for you in Rohan and by the scions of my house."

Oh, why now? She moaned inwardly. She kept thinking of Aragorn, marching into Sauron's stronghold and all but carrying a sign that said 'Isildur's Heir. Please kill me.'

Taking a deep breath, she answered.. Éomund, was it? "Your offer is most gracefully accepted but there is no debt between us. You killed a fair number of pirates afterwards so consider the score settled and get back to Rohan. Now, I'm sorry but I have to go! It's urgent!"

He bowed again and let her pass and to stop anyone else from delaying her, she sprinted to her tent, grabbing her half-pilled pack and stuffing everything into it. Dropping her Gondorian issued sword, she pulled the Elvish weapons Galadriel had given her out of the depths of her baggage. While she served Ecthelion, it would have been stupid to use them but now that she was going to have to follow that mush for brains man into Mordor, she was bringing every weapon she had.

Thanks to the Corsairs, the armour she had worn last night was going to be well on its way to rusting so she pulled on Galadriel's gift of her coat of mail, throwing on a clean tunic over it and belting both swords around her waist. She hastily did up her gauntlets, slipping her customary daggers under the hardened leather, and fastened her treasured mithril knife to a strap on her thigh. Throwing her cloak over the ensemble and grabbing her bow and quiver, she grabbed her pack and the provisions she had prepared and headed over to where the horses were stabled.

Aragorn had not taken a horse which meant that she could use her lively mare, Fireball, could help her overtake him before he landed himself in more trouble than he could handle.

She really was too short to swing herself up and onto the saddle but she and Fireball had a long standing arrangement worked out. Fireball lowered herself to her knees so Buffy could clamber on and then stood up, leaving Buffy comfortably mounted.

Nudging the horse into a canter, she muttered all the while about Aragorn's utter stupidity. Even she, the Vampire Slayer, scourge of Evil, knew better than to go near Mordor.

When she got her hands on that man, she was going to kill him. And then she would deliver him back to Rivendell, (hog-tied of course) and let Elladan, Elrohir and Elrond kill him. And along with anyone else who wanted a shot as well, as she was feeling generous towards everybody with a valid excuse for wanting to torment Aragorn.

She studiously ignored the little pangs of pain in her heart at the thought of Aragorn being dead.

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Several days later, the news came to Minas Tirith that Gondor's best officers, Thorongil and Eliza, had left for pastures unknown. The people mourned the loss of their favourites, as ardently as if they had died and not just left the country.

Denethor could not have been more pleased. Finally, after over a decade of struggling and having to live through his resentment, his rivals were gone. And as the men said that both of them had been headed towards the Ephel Dúath, he realised he need not have bothered trying to kill them two years ago. Apparently, Isildur's heir was just as mad as his forefathers if he sought to take on the might of Mordor. And at last Denethor was free of the multitude of threats that,… that thing Eliza was so fond of giving him at least once a week. The harlot had broken his arm with no punishment for assaulting her lord, at all! Disgraceful little wench!

Ecthelion was not blind to his son's overwhelming happiness at the same news that greatly sorrowed him. He had held his tongue for two years at both Thorongil and Eliza's behest but now that they were gone, nothing bound him anymore.

"Are you happy now that you have driven away Gondor's only hope?" Ecthelion said wearily, surveying the only child and son that was too often a disappointment to him.

Denethor's face hardened, it seemed he would never receive his father's goodwill or praise. It was, as usual, saved for Thorongil. "He was never Gondor's hope, he was Gondor's bane. Ever urging you to draw away more men from these walls… It was only sheer luck that most survived his folly."

"His folly in achieving so great a defeat over the Corsairs that they will not trouble us for many years? His folly in winning nearly every charge he led? Or was it his folly in not doing as you wished and giving you the glory you crave, that you speak of?"

"Still you defend him, even though he has abandoned you. Why can you never have such respect for me, your own flesh and blood?" Denethor said angrily, "Ever have you chosen foreigners to praise and reward, and you never give me a mere scrap of the love you held for that vagrant."

Ecthelion very much looked his age. Well into his twilight years now, he could do nothing but watch as all he had built would come to ruin, through the folly and pride of the boy he had sired. "I had one child, a son," he said softly, "Great expectations I had for him in his youth. But now, I see that his pride has overtaken him and all that I have accomplished will be undone ere the end. I cannot praise you Denethor, because you have given me nothing to praise. Instead, you undermine my authority, you cannot put aside your differences for the good of your country and your people, you have tried to murder a good man, a fellow captain, in cold blood because he was loved better than you."

He shook his head sadly, "No, Denethor. There is nothing there to reward, though I do love you in my way. How can I not? You are my son. But I tell you this now, I offered Thorongil the stewardship of Gondor but he refused. I offered it to him because he has proved himself to be a worthier man than you. You hate him for it, but your follies are your own fault. You're become a bitter man and because of your pride, you will only become more bitter as the years pass. When all that you have done crumbles around you and the shadow marches forth. You think too much of yourself, my son, but hear me now, the Stewardship will be yours, I have not many years left to me. But though you will be Lord of Gondor, you will find that your sway becomes less with every year and unless you can put aside your pride and accept the King back, then you will be doomed."

"Words of wisdom, father?" Denethor said scornfully, dismissing the advice, "Gondor will flourish under my rule as it has not done under yours. You seek to cast a shadow over my happiness this day but I see it for what it is. Thorongil is gone. To Mordor if the rumours are to be believed. He is as good as dead. And with it, his cursed line. Gondor is mine and it will stay mine. Gondor has no king. Gondor needs no king."

"'Tis your favourite saying, my son, and the biggest sign of your idiocy," Ecthelion said tiredly as he left his son to his celebrations, "Ignore my words if you will, but one day, you will know them for truth."

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'Twas a long, hard trek to Mordor, he had had to go across long abandoned South Ithilien and over the Mountains of Shadow. But a great task called him, events started in motion by a summons from Gandalf the Grey.

Gandalf had imparted much news that was worrisome, and what he had not said, the foresight of Aragorn's line conveyed to him. The Elendilmir, heirloom of his house, had been stolen from its Dúnedain keepers by thieves unknown.

His foresight had come to him then, and he knew that the treasure of his house was on its way to Mordor, if it was not already there. He knew full well that his foster father would be most angry with him for straying into Mordor, saying that such a thing was not worth his life.

But he himself felt, that if he was to someday be king, 'twould only come after Sauron was defeated. And how could he help wage a war on the Dark Lord if he had never entered his borders?

His head was beginning to regret his decision, while his heart urged him on. This was his destiny for some reason and he would have to fulfil it.

Mordor was a barren wasteland, there were no plants that were not poison, no water that was fit to drink and ever did smoke from Mount Doom fill the skies and taint the very air he breathed. He also knew that Sauron was rebuilding his strength of old, dwelling in the rebuilt Barad-dûr. That meant battalions of orcs lurking in this land, but he was the most skilled tracker of the Dúnedain. He was confident he could evade them, even if they knew the land better than he. The orcs would not wander far into such barren lands unless ordered to by their master.

But even as Aragorn stealthily snuck through the land of his enemy, his naiveté condemned him. For Elrond, his foster father, would not have pointed out orcs as the first problem. Any Elf who had fought in the Last Alliance would have warned him that the Nine now rode again, if only in Mordor so far, and 'twas a deadly peril to one such as he, with Númenórean blood in his veins and garbed in the gear of Gondor.

But Aragorn had not yet encountered their like and so did they surround him without his knowledge. The Ringwraiths, some of the most feared of the servants of Sauron, came upon him, garbed in black and upon black steeds. And though he was a valiant and excellent fighter, he could not take all of them at once, not in their own stronghold and without any weapons that could deter them, the foremost being fire or running water.

Long did he block their blades but even as he landed a gash on one of the Black Riders, the blade of his sword crumbled to dust in his hand as few blades could withstand the might of the Ringwraiths and their sorcery.

And so it was that he was taken captive, yet even as he fell into darkness, he latched onto something that he had not known was there and a plea for help was sent.

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It was official. Buffy hated Mordor. By the Valar, no water, no food, no grass, no interesting scenery. Terrible weather, she also hated riding into the Middle Earth version of ovens. Did the Dark Lord have to have a working volcano? She couldn't even take a bath! And to top it all off, she'd had to leave Fireball behind her in South Ithilien, as there was nothing for the poor horse to live on if she took the animal into Mordor.

And so, here she was, trudging into Mordor, without even the benefit of having the slightest clue where she was going. All she could do was follow the Buffy-dar to Aragorn. And by Eru, if she found him in Barad-dûr, she was killing him herself and Elrond could shout at her all he wanted about the stubborn ranger.

And let's not forget the whole sleeping problem. Slayer she may be but by Eru, she needed some rest. But here, in Mordor, with no one to share a watch with? Yeah, she was really going to have a great time trying to make camp in what was essentially, Monster Land.

But even as she tried to make light of her situation, she couldn't ignore her worry for Aragorn. She just had this feeling that something was up. One of her slayerly hunches obviously, but she wished that it would be a bit more specific.

If the Valar saw fit to give her some foresight, the least they could do was give her an on and off button. C'mon, how come when she wanted it to work, it never did? And when she was busy or up to her eyeballs in something, they sprang on her then? It was just not fair.

But as she saw the smoke coming off Amon Amarth, or Mount Doom as it was called in the common tongue. Personally Buffy thought the name was a bit 'Dungeons and Dragons' computer geek thing, it really reminded her of Andrew's style of thing.

But if it was a silly name, why did it fill her with dread? And why, did she feel as though, one day, she was gonna see a lot more of that mountain than she ever wanted to?

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Later that night, Buffy's rather grumpy wish was granted when Aragorn's plea for help was sent through their as of yet unknown and unacknowledged bond, hitting Buffy with all the force of a freight train.

((((( Nine Black Riders…. A sword that reeked of evil… a shape moving in a dark tunnel…. A luminous tower made of shining marble… a winding steep stone staircase with thousands of steps… a dark tower… orcs… and a name… Cirith Ungol…. )))))))

Buffy awoke with a jerk, her hand flying to the hilt of her sword as she processed what she had just seen. Apparently Aragorn was in major trouble. Again.

And now that she was aware of it, she could feel this… nagging in her head. It almost felt like…. No, it couldn't be! But it sure as hell felt like it, she mused. Could Aragorn really be calling her mind to mind like when she pulled him back from his poisoning? She shook her head to clear it, she had no time to deal with this now.

There was one word for what surrounded Aragorn at the moment, and that was Evil. Though Trouble could probably do just as well.

The Nine Riders… she had never personally faced them but she knew them to be nearly impossible to kill, deadly as anything, and very nasty. Not exactly the people she wanted to be visiting. In her time as the slayer, she knew very well how hard it was to face all these 'un-killable' monsters, and that the worst ones were the ones that were neither living or dead, like the wraiths.

As for the fortress…. She knew Cirith Ungol was one of two main routes into Mordor, a tower built by the men of Gondor that had been overrun by Sauron. Trouble was she didn't really know where it was.

Pulling out the only map of Mordor that she could find before she left the camp to play 'let's chase the really stupid ranger', she scanned it for the name bequeathed to her.

"Damn!" she hissed when she saw where it was. Right next to Minas Morgul, home of the Nine. Well, if Aragorn had gone by that route, she now had a fairly good idea why he got caught. And to think rangers were supposed to be stealthy!

It was a long way away though, she was nearer to Emyn Arnen, and the Morgul Vale was all the way over to the other side of Osgiliath.

If her hunch was right and Aragorn had gotten picked up by the Ringwraiths, he was on borrowed time.

She could only hope that he could hold out until she got there.

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The fortress of Cirith Ungol. Once a of the Dúnedain strongholds built to keep watch on Mordor.

As it happened, Aragorn was being subjected to the famed 'hospitality' of Cirith Ungol.

Being brought in the High Nazgûl himself, Aragorn had become a prisoner of special interest for the orcs of the fortress. He had woken up to find himself being carried towards one of the fortresses of Mordor by a foul Ringwraith but together their power was so great that he could no nothing to aid an escape attempt.

Since then, he had been harried passes the Two Watchers, the likes of which sent shivers down his spine. He knew the Nameless Land had creatures of much evil and malice, but to see them with his own eyes, things that belonged to races that should never have existed… it was horrible.

Thrown into a cell, he had been stripped of his weapons and valuables. He heard the orcs fighting over who would have what after the Nazgûl had finished inspecting the items.

They had then subjected him to a cursory interrogation by the orcs, which to Aragorn's mind, seemed more of an excuse to beat him into senselessness more than any attempt at extracting information.

But he really did not want to dwell on the state the orcs had left him in. It only seemed to accentuate the pain if his mind was not occupied with other things.

His only saving grace so far was that they did not seem to know whose blood flowed in his veins. They thought he was a warrior of Gondor, not the unfortunate Heir of Isildur. But he had heard tales of the Dark Lord's might and knew that he had ways of finding out things that others would have kept hidden.

At least he had not been taken to Barad-dûr, he consoled himself. From the Dark Tower, no one escaped. But from here, in this tower near the Spider's Lair, he at least had some small chance.

And he had already seen what he had come for, though it was out of his reach. The Elendilmir was stored with the booty the Nazgûl had collected on their, for now, rare sojourns out of Mordor.

He would be able to take it with him when he got out of here. If he got out of here.

At least Eliza was safe, he thought gratefully. He had spared her the fruits of his folly by forcing her to remain within the camp at Pelargir. He could not bear the thought that he had dragged her into this dark hole with him. On that, at least, he could rest easy. Gilraen and Arwen were sheltered by the power of Elrond, and Eliza was surrounded by some of the hardiest soldiers in Gondor.

The pain in his ribs increased sharply when he moved and he hissed in pain. He had not yet been in captivity long, yet he knew that if he did not make his escape soon, he would be in no fit state to stand, let alone fight his away out of the tower and away from Mordor.

Logically, he knew he should be panicking right about now. The line of Isildur was about to end, and he had no heir to succeed him. He himself was probably going to die a rather bloody and brutal death and yet somehow, impossibly, he was rather calm and collected for a man on the verge of a very painful death, far from anyone who could have helped him.

For all that he knew he was trapped in a barren wasteland, only populated by servants of the enemy, Aragorn could not shake the feeling that somehow, someone was coming for him.

Someone that was not Sauron.

Wherever this newfound confidence came from, he did not know, but it was nice to have some hope left to him in the one place where such things were forever extinguished.

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The pass of Cirith Ungol. Translated into the Common Tongue as 'Shelob's Lair'.

Buffy warily eyed the entrance to the tunnel ahead of her. She had climbed the steep Winding Staircase from the Morgul Vale and had at last come to the tunnel which led to the fortress where she thought that Aragorn was being kept.

Her slayer senses were going wild, which meant something probably unpleasant was waiting in the darkness for her.

Oh well, it probably wasn't going to be the first monster she'd have to get past to rescue the fool ranger. What was it with men and getting themselves in way over their head? Was it testosterone related or something?

Stepping into the dark passage, she wrinkled her nose in disgust. What on earth was that smell? Probably rotting corpses, her logic supplied her with an answer. Eeugh! At least Vampire's were dusted once you killed them and weren't overly fond of dragging their meals home with them.

It really made her wonder what she was sharing her breathing space with.

Moving quietly and quickly through the dark tunnel, slayer eyesight enabling her to make out her path without resorting to lighting a torch, she accidentally banged off a narrowing wall once, and felt something sticky attach itself to her clothes.

Examining it closer, she identified it as webbing. Spider webbing. Oh that was just brilliant, apparently Mordor had all the average beasties, right down to the killer arachnids.

She guessed that she'd covered perhaps half the tunnel's length when her foot crunched down on a skeleton, and with a start she noticed that the webbing on the walls had grown thicker, fresher, and that the ground was littered with the corpses of dead animals and what looked to be orcs.

Something scuttled in the dark and her slayer senses tingled, warning her of an incoming enemy and she drew her Elvish sword, waiting for the monster to come see if it would like to challenge the slayer. No damn spider was gonna keep her here for long.

Upon seeing said spider, she realised she may have underestimated the creepy crawly just a teensy weensy little bit.

It came forth with a venomous, bubbling hiss, like air deflating from a tyre, if it was evil air at least. A creaking noise accompanied the shape as it scuttled in the shadows. It looked at her from its hiding place with deadly regard, and all the great malice that only the most evil of beings had.

Buffy's senses reeled, this was an ancient evil. Older than nearly everything she'd fought before, save perhaps for the First. Which was obvious when you thought about it, as it did call itself the 'First Evil'.

"Are you not going to come out and face me?" she demanded coldly, "Or are you going to hide in the shadows a bit more like a big baby?"

The spider monster didn't seem to care for prey that talked back to it and it came forth, creaking and swaying.

The first thing Buffy saw was two great clusters of many-windowed eyes, nearly overshadowed by the huge horns on the head of the arachnid, suspended by a short stalk-like neck. And after that came the main body, which was huge with a capital 'h' and ugly with a very big capital 'U.G.L.Y'.

It's body was swollen up, looking like a huge black bloated bag of ick, that sagged and swayed between her legs. It was blotchy, the marks almost looking like foul blood but it's big belly was pale and luminous and stank like nothing Buffy had ever been forced to put up with before.

She thought the almost steel-like spines sprouting from its legs were supposed to be hairs, but it was difficult to say when they looked razor sharp. And at each leg's end was a definitely sharp claw, almost like a pincer.

It most definitely the ugliest spider, and perhaps monster, that she had ever had the displeasure to encounter.

It didn't seem to mind feeling the sting of her sword too much as it advanced on her, dark eyes alight with the desire to hunt, to feed, to devour Buffy.

Buffy's feelings on the other hand were much more mixed. One part of her brain said 'kill! Kill!', the other said that she really didn't want to end up covered in the contents of that stinking stomach.

It was at times like these, she really wished she had a nice big spear. Or even a quarterstaff or crossbow. With monsters like these, one really didn't want to get too close.

And not just because one didn't want to look like the creature from the slimy green lagoon.

The spider lunged at her and Buffy took a swing with her sword but the creature had surprising agility and much to Buffy's chagrin, had the ability to climb walls where Buffy could not.

Their game of cat and mouse continued on unabated for some time, Buffy not wanting to know if the stuff dripping from its claws was poisonous or not.

But the time came at last when dodging was not going to cut it anymore and Buffy swung madly with her sword to counter eight sharp pincer like things trying to rip her to pieces. Her sword jammed in one of the spider's knee joints and it let out a screech but Buffy couldn't get her weapon out again with the creature moving to and fro.

Just as the pincers descended on her, to cut and poison her, she grabbed her mithril dagger and stabbed it into the soft, glowing belly. Shelob let out an almighty screech and staggered back. Even as Buffy yanked out her sword and dagger, the spider was fleeing, scuttling away from her, cradling her wounded belly and leaving long trails of black blood and gore in her wake.

Buffy stared at her dagger in amazement, and reread the inscription carved on the Elvish blade, 'Gûd daedheloth, Dagnir i thang im' was engraved there, meaning 'Foe of Morgoth's Realm, the Slayer of the enemy throng I am.'

She had heard of the great spiders that aided Morgoth, but surely that couldn't have been one of them, could it? But the way it had seemed to fear the long knife where it hadn't feared her sword, how else to explain that?

Shaking herself out of her musings, she moved off into the darkness again, keeping a wary eye out in case the spider came back for more punishment.

After all, there was no time left for debate, she had her ranger to save.

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The fortress was huge, and darkly imposing. Eyeing the way it was built into a sheer drop, she now knew why this place was feared. There wouldn't be much left of anyone after falling onto those rocks, especially not from that height.

She also knew that these fortresses had been built to keep the foul things of Mordor in, which meant it would be easier for her to get in there than say, oh, Barad-dûr itself?

The main entrance was a set of double doors with bars of iron over them. She was super-strength girl, that wouldn't be a problem. She always liked making an entrance.

The problem were the two monster thingies parked out front. The Two Watchers had vulture-like faces, huge bodies, black stones for eyes and claw-like hands. They literally seemed to be carved out of stone, which would make them pretty painful to punch. But for all that they should be big blocks of stone, something evil wreaked from them.

Whatever they were, they were most definitely alive, in a loose sense of the word. They knew when someone came near. Some dreadful spirit of evil vigilance abode in them. They knew an enemy. Visible or invisible none could pass unheeded. They would forbid her entry, or her escape.

Buffy knew her weapons would do no good against these. She'd looked at them with an experienced eye and if they could move from their posts without permission, she was an orc.

They were watchers only, on eternal sentry duty. Which meant she could get past them easy enough. The problems would only begin when they raised the alarm, however they did it.

Stepping up to the double doors and ignoring the shrill, ear-splitting cry the monsters le out. She swiftly bent the iron bars enough to slip through, and then kicked in the heavy wooden door. From above, an answering signal rang through the air, when a harsh bell clanged a single stroke.

Entering a wide and echoing passage, which was pitch dark save for the occasional torch, killing any orcs she came across and soon they stopped coming after her altogether, fearing the warrior with Elvish weapons and fearsome look.

Feeling the Buffy-dar kick in, she made to follow it up a set of high, steep and winding stairs.

Except something didn't seem to agree with her plan. The air in the hall chilled, cooling to near freezing, and a shadow parted from its fellows. Blocking her path was a Ringwraith, one of the Nazgûl who had taken Aragorn. Buffy smiled grimly, once you had faced a true vampire, thanks to the First's plan to kill you gruesomely, most Bringer wannabes paled in comparison.

"You can move or you can die," she said frostily, "Either way, I'm coming through."

The wraith drew its Morgul blade, and made to face her. It obviously didn't think her much of a challenge. That was a big mistake, it would reflect later.

With all the flare of one accustomed to arson, Buffy pulled the closest torch off the wall and threw it at the wraith. Its sword clanged uselessly as it clawed at its heavy, black and now flaming robes.

Storming past it, Buffy ran up the steep staircase. Aragorn was close, she could feel him. She quickly located the room on the uppermost floor that he occupied but had to forego her rescue mission in favour of dealing with another of those cursed Nazgûl.

Her blade met his move for move, but he had the advantage of knowing the layout of the tower better than she and he eventually backed her out onto one of the parapets. Buffy, looking down at the dizzying drop, decided that swordplay was way too risky. She didn't want to break her own neck.

And so using the Ringwraith's blade to propel herself up and over him, she landed behind him and grabbing the nearly insubstantial form, she chucked him up and over the parapet, leaving it to scream its chilling shriek as it plummeted.

Racing into the hallway and forcefully pulling the door off its hinges, Buffy stepped into the room where the man she loved was being kept.

As she'd said once before, almost in another lifetime, nobody messed with her boyfriend. Or the man she wanted to be her boyfriend.

That way only meant badness.

For everyone else anyway.

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Aragorn could not believe his eyes when Eliza stepped into the broken doorway, golden hair mussed and cat-like eyes bright with anger. Holding her sword aloft, and dressed for battle, she looked like an Elven queen of old, fair and fell. "Eliza?" he whispered, fearing that his mind was playing tricks on him.

"How ya doing Thorongil?" she answered back, her familiar voice assuring him he was not hallucinating, "As I'm sure you've had enough of sightseeing in Mordor, how about we hightail it back to more friendly territory, what do you say?"

"How did you get here?! I left you back at camp!" he exclaimed, his ribs protesting the loud volume.

She grimaced, "We're gonna talk about that once we're out of here. I've got more than a few words to say to you for that stunt but as I'm basically invading a fortress here, filled with a lot more things than little ol' me, how about we get out of here before the rest of the Nazgûl decide to party?"

She crossed over to him, and helped him up, concern playing across her features when she heard his pained gasp. "I guess it would have been too good to be true if they'd left you alone. But I'm sorry, no matter what condition you're in, we've got to go or else we're dead meat."

She carefully led him down the steps of the tower, which was eerily quiet. Too quiet to her ears.

Her caution was proved to be necessary when she saw why they had gotten to the front courtyard uncontested. Apparently, the Witch-King himself was there to stop them leaving. And she noted the rest of the Nazgûl and more than a fair share of orcs lurking in the shadowed alcoves of the courtyard.

Pressing her dagger into Aragorn's hand, she whispered, "Stay put. I'll deal with the walking dead over there and you'd better be here, and alive, when I come back for you." He looked like he was going to protest but Buffy forestalled him, "You're in no condition to fight anything, let alone a Ringwraith. Just do as I tell you!"

And crossing the stone courtyard, Buffy went to meet the Witch-king.

As they circled each other, sizing each other up, Buffy broke protocol by lunging for him, her increased agility and speed her best asset when compared to the wraith's heavy armour. "Do you fear to face me Wraith?" she taunted, "You should! You should consider me death. More specifically, yours."

"Give it up, girl," the Witch-King hissed, "You can not leave this place alive."

"Says who?" Buffy says, dodging in nimbly to land a strong roundhouse kick on the stunned Nazgûl. Pressing her advantage, she sent him flying down the hill towards Shelob's Lair, pressing him backwards and after ensnaring him in a sticky web, she raced back to Aragorn, whom the other Nazgûl were beginning to head towards.

They wanted to kill her Aragorn! That was her job! Buffy fumed as she sped towards them. Grabbing Aragorn, she led him down towards the tunnel. In there, the orcs wouldn't follow and they would need all the speed they could muster to get out of the Morgul Vale before the forces of the Dark Lord swallowed them.

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Dragging the flagging ranger behind her, Buffy sped down the Winding Staircase, almost sending her and Aragorn flying down them several times in her haste. Behind them, she could hear the enraged screeches of the Nazgûl when they found their leader and increased her pace even further, uncaring on the toll it was taking on Aragorn.

If they didn't get to safety, there would be no point in caring if Aragorn was in pain or not. He would be dead, along with her.

"C'mon!" she urged Aragorn, trying to get him to move faster. Wasn't he supposed to have the longer legs around here? "You've made me come and drag your 'hero-complex-ing' ass out of here after saving you from the clutches of the Ringwraiths. The least you can do is try and help us get back to Ithilien, and Osgiliath would be even better! Speed it up slowcoach!"

"The Nazgûl will not cross running water," Aragorn said, "The river, the Imlad Morgul, should suffice. From there we can make our way through Ithilien to Osgiliath and from there, cross the river."

Buffy winced as the shrieks grew louder. And closer. "You'd better pray that you're right," she said as they took off once more.

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Barad-dûr.

From the great fortress of Barad-dûr, the Eye of Sauron was moving, looking towards its own borders along the Ephel Dúath. A new power had arisen and defeated one of his highest servants. Where it had come from he knew not. Yet. But he did now that it had come in one of the unlikeliest forms imaginable.

Reports told him that a petite fair-haired woman in Elvish array had stormed Cirith Ungol and had gotten away with a Gondorian Dúnedain prisoner there, leaving his forces humiliated. He cared little for the man of Gondor but this new player on the board intrigued him.

Were it not for her colouring and her gender, he would have thought her the Heir of Isildur. No other line of Men in Middle Earth had any power left in it. But the Dúnedain were dark-haired, grey-eyed and tall. She was not of their ilk.

He knew that she was also not another fool Istar come to work against him. For she was not wizened like they and neither was she come from Valinor.

All those peace-loving Elves and their precious Valar left a.. taint to his eyes but this girl shone with her own power, with darkness as its root.

She could be a great asset to him if he could turn her. A powerful servant indeed. The Witch-King would humble himself by personally offering her the position Sauron desired to have her hold.

And if she refused, then the Nazgûl would have great pleasure in killing her, along with everyone else who dared defy his rule.

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In the Golden Wood of Lothlórien, its Lady, Galadriel sat in contemplation and was very uneasy. Often had she felt the Dark Lord test her defences by pushing his will against her borders, searching for a weakness that he could use his base in Dol Guldur to exploit. The same was felt by Elrond.

Although the power behind his pushes varied, never a day went by that Galadriel did not feel some frisson of awareness that Sauron still watched and waited.

But this day…

This day, she had borne witness to something she never would have expected and which did not bode well for Middle Earth.

Sauron's attention had shifted, completely, to a place elsewhere. Something that had never happened since he'd first pushed against Lórien's borders.

Her foresight warned her that this was important, that Sauron's plans were changing and his forces moving.

Something had happened and she felt in her heart that somehow Buffy was in the middle of it.

And the Elven Lady could only hope that the Slayer survived drawing the Dark Lord's personal attention, however she had done it.

There were those she had seen, both in her mirror and in her mind, that she knew must not die if Middle Earth were to be free from Shadow.

Buffy Summers, or Buffy Dagnir (slayer), to use her title, was one of these.

And whatever mischief she had wreaked, she could remain hidden no longer. The Dark Lord knew a new player was now on the game board and either he would try and turn her to black or he would kill her.

She could not let that happen.

Not when her own granddaughter's life also hanged on Buffy's future actions…

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At camp in Ithilien, Buffy and Aragorn stared at each other across a cheery fire. Aragorn had not yet let Buffy tend to his wounds and she knew it was because he would not do so without an explanation for the events surrounding his escape.

As the silence stretched and the tension grew, Buffy took a deep, calming breath and decided to bite the bullet, "So I guess we're due a talk, aren't we?" she said.

Aragorn only stared at her like he could figure out the mystery surrounding her through sight alone.

"Are you not going to answer, Aragorn?" she asked and watched as surprise flickered across his face.

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A/N: So? What do you think? Please READ and REVIEW!!! And PLEASE take a look at my QUESTION at the end of this chapter!

Elvish:

Narvinyë - Quenya for January

Amon Amarth - Mount Doom

Dagnir - Slayer

Cirith Ungol - Translates as 'Spider's Cleft'. The name was lent not only to the pass but to the fortress that guarded it as well. Cirith Ungol was a fortress unto its own. The Tower of Cirith Ungol, was a stronghold made by the Men of Gondor after the Last Alliance to keep watch on Mordor but Mordor took it over.

Emyn Arnen - the part of Ithilien in which the Steward of the King dwelled.

Éomund of Eastfold - Chief Marshal of the Mark. Would go on to be brother-in-law to Théoden King of Rohan and father to Éomer and Éowyn.

Ephel Dúath - Mountains of Shadow. Also called the Fence of Shadow. The mountain range separating Gondor and Mordor.

Imlad Morgul - River flowing out of the Morgul Vale.

Morgul Vale - once housed a city of Gondor called Minas Ithil 'Tower of the Moon' but was overrun by Sauron before the Last Alliance and is now called Minas Morgul. It is now a province of Mordor that houses the Ringwraiths that do not hold Dol Guldur in Mirkwood.

Osgiliath - Was once the capital of Gondor. But during the War of the Kin-Strife (a rebellion during the time of kings around the 1430's.) it was laid siege to by the rebels and burned to ruins in 1437.

The Elendilmir/Star of Elendil - an heirloom of the House of Elendil. It was a single white gem (assumed to be a diamond) on a fillet of silver, worn on the brow. The Elendilmir referred to in this chapter is the second one to bear the name. The first being lost with Isildur. The second Elendilmir was made for Valandil, Isildur's youngest and only surviving son, after Isildur and the original Elendilmir, made in Númenor, were lost. The second Elendilmir was born by each of the Chieftains of the Dúnedain, all the way down to Aragorn II.

Torech Ungol - Shelob's Lair,

The lines "Some dreadful spirit of evil vigilance abode in them. They knew an enemy. Visible or invisible none could pass unheeded. They would forbid her entry, or her escape." come from the Lord of the Rings, chapter: the Tower of Cirith Ungol.

QUESTION: I know it's not coming up yet, but I'm planning out future chapters and need to know the answer to this. Do you want ARWEN or GLORFINDEL to find Aragorn and the Hobbits and bring them to Rivendell. I can work it either way so this will be reviewer's choice.