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 notes: Ok, let's remember people. Thranduil is not evil! He wants to save his son - a noble goal, but really sneaky way of doing it. But then again, this is the King who locked up a group of Dwarves because they wouldn't tell him where they were going AND marched his army to the Lonely Mountain to snatch the treasure off of them. Thranduil. Is. Sneaky. Beware.
Review responses:
Aleviel - yes, Boromir's fate has been decided with weeks. And yes, Boromir will mellow over time.
Anna - yes, Legolas - not pleased. And Aragorn is at the moment wilfully denying everything.
Darkseed - lost where?
Dragonsdaughter1 - thanks! And I honestly don't have a clue?
DragonStar - Well, since it is cleared up in this chapter, I'll tell you. Of course, it's just a plot twist. I can hardly leave the dear Elf out now, can I? Yes, Boromir needs to learn humour if he wants to survive the first week of the Fellowship.
emerald sorceress - Of course, he's underestimating Legolas! Legolas - not an Elf to underestimate, as Thranduil will find out. And Aragorn is being overly protective and trying to keep Buffy as far away from his as possible for his own sanity. But yes, the poor Fellowship is getting picked off one by one, isn't it?
FallenStar2 - Aragorn aims to confuse. And yes, he still denies why he's way overprotective of Buffy! And Thranduil is wrong but for the right reasons. Yes, Arwen and Legolas have their own road ahead of them. But if he did stay behind with Arwen, I have no doubt he'd be a lot easier for Thranduil to find and cart home. And I LOVE long reviews!
Goldenshadows - you did it again! You realise you're only spurring me on, right? And Aragorn tends to come round, eventually anyway. How long is this fic going to be? Last count it was fifty chapters, and I'm not going to split it into three parts. It's only a hassle for readers, and for me.
Haley - Legolas's temper is unfortunately going to fall mostly on the Dwarves. Yes, he will catch up, all explained in this chapter. And sorry, I don't really have a spare brick.
Imp17 - do you now? How many?
Lady Alathon - Thranduil is rather desperate I'm afraid.
Lady of the Wood - yes, she gets to go. All in this chapter. When will Aragorn open his eyes? Watch this space.
LadyWolfBane - yes, Aragorn will eventually learn more of Buffy's past.
Liit06 - it was there. Try adding a forwards slash and a '?' if the site tries to eat a chapter.
Lunawolf - definite alert! Yes, she'll go with or without his consent.
Mari - yep, he's making with the mad. And the devious. And this is Thranduil, to him they are the only two competent ones in the group as Legolas is obviously not going! It's his mindset, not the general opinion. No, Aragorn will not drug Buffy. She would probably toss him down Mount Doom, or drown him in the Bruinen, if he dared. And about the B/A cuddling, that would be telling!
Moonbunny77 - Arwen to the rescue? Sadly, no.
organized-chaos - you hit the nail on the head there. I'm evil, which means angst and drama. And you still haven't solved the problem of getting the 40 pound salmon.
Pamie884 - yes, Thranduil bad seems to be the general consensus. Yes, Aragorn and Buffy will end up together. Eventually.
restive nature - thanks! And it's a pity you forgot! Yes, Aragorn is quite content to be a jackass at the moment! And yes, he's more than a little self-absorbed as he deals with his pain. And yes, Buffy will eventually reveal some of the more painful aspects of her past to Aragorn, but that will be a while off yet.
Roswell428 - don't worry. He will eventually.
Sabia - thanks! Yeah, the dates can get confusing for me too but I usually go off the timeline in the back of the 3-in-1 version of the LotR book for them. Arwen and Legolas was kind of a side plot, as they were both mostly clueless, that is now coming into its own and about to pick up momentum.
Star - the Fellowship gets underway in this chapter! And there will be plenty more Boromir.
Tiamante Salazar Tameran - they'll get to that eventually!
Wild320 - interesting analysis.
And major thanks to:
BuffyandDracoLover, Draco's Slytherin Vampiress, egastin77, feyechelon, gaul1, Little Red Rabbit, ms8309, Night-Owl123,
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: EVERY WHICH WAY BUT LOOSE
Guest wing, the royal palace, Mirkwood, 3018 TA, November.
Aragorn was most unceremoniously woke in the dead of night by two Elves who did not even wait for his eyes to crack open ere they hauled him up and out of his warm bed and started dragging him out of the room.
Struggling at this rough handling, Aragorn's bid to fight himself free came to an abrupt halt when he saw King Thranduil standing in the hallway, looking very upset.
"Your majesty!" Aragorn exclaimed, "What is the meaning of this?!" he demanded angrily.
The King's face was grave as he answered, "Legolas shall not be going with your thrice damned fellowship," he said, "By order of his king."
Aragorn did not bother to wait for more, "Legolas would never agree to that!" he cried, "Let me speak to him now!"
"You will not be speaking to him again, Dúnadan," Thranduil said sternly, eyes menacing as he protected his child even from his own friends, "I am sick of your bad influence. Mordor may have claimed my father, but by Eru, it shall not claim my son!"
"Legolas chose to go because it was the right thing to do and because he wanted to!" Aragorn defended, "Not because of me!"
"He chose to follow because of you," Thranduil said with no little emotion, "Ever since he met you he has been too eager to befriend mortals, heedless of the grief their deaths will cause him in the future. He has followed you on errands of folly because of his regard for you, and I have tolerated this to a certain extent, not wanting to cage my Greenleaf, but the time for your influence is over. You may be over eager to die, son of Arathorn, but you shall not drag him with you. The line of Isildur has already caused enough pain for my house!"
Aragorn flinched at the words, so reminiscent of how Elrond had spoken to him of Arwen before, but he refused to be cowed by Thranduil, "This is Legolas's decision, not yours. And you fail to convince me that Legolas meekly submitted to your will in this!"
Thranduil's left eye twitched almost imperceptibly, but then Aragorn's foresight came upon him and he knew what had passed. "By Eru, you did not lock him up!" he exclaimed in dismay.
"'Tis only a necessary precaution 'til you are gone from these woods," Thranduil said, "'Tis better that he is angered than dead."
"You know better than I that Legolas hates to be caged anywhere!" Aragorn said angrily, "And yet you doom him to that fate by refusing to let him go! You know he is smarter than that. Even you cannot hold him for long!"
"You are much mistaken, ranger," Thranduil said menacingly, "I am King here, and I can override anything my son tries. I know him well, he shall not escape me. But I am afraid that you shall not be allowed to help him either. I will not throw you out of my woods in the deep of night, so I shall allow you to stay until morn. Unfortunately though, your quarters must be moved. Enjoy the dungeons, Dúnadan. You may as well get used to them as I have no doubt that Sauron would much enjoy having you as his guest when you cross his borders."
And with that, the King walked away, leaving a viciously struggling Aragorn to be dragged down to the lower levels.
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Legolas's chambers, the royal palace, Mirkwood, 3018 TA, November.
As a consequence of Thranduil not being very pleased that Legolas was going with the Fellowship, to put it mildly, the Elvenking had pulled out all the stops to keep his only child safe.
So all of Mirkwood's guard were under orders to make sure that the Prince remained in his room in the palace, which meant guards outside his windows and doors and considering his son's cunning, guards trailing him to make sure he stayed put and to make sure Aragorn or anybody did not help him. Needless to say, Legolas was not pleased about this and his temper, when roused, was not something a person wanted to see let alone be on the receiving end of it.
And that was only reaffirmed when Thranduil met with Legolas for the first time since he had resorted to desperate measures to prevent Legolas leaving.
Thranduil had been informed that Legolas was awake and livid, and had already made good progress in accumulating a series of relentless and clever escape efforts.
Stepping into the room, making sure the guards locked the door behind him, Thranduil had to duck as a thick book was flung his way. "Legolas! Stop that!" Thranduil chastised his errant child. "Why are you throwing books?" he asked.
"Because ornaments get glass and pottery all over the place." Legolas snarled, "You had no right, adar! (father) None at all! How could you?!"
"It was all for your benefit!" Thranduil countered, trying to calm his absolutely furious son down.
"You drugged me and then locked me in my room, did you not? How is that to my 'benefit'?" Legolas hissed, silver-blue eyes burning into his father's.
"Just for your own protection!" Thranduil said, "Do you not see that I would not survive losing you?!"
"It was my choice adar! Mine! And you took it away from me like I was an elfling!" Legolas yelled, hardly able to look at his father so great was his anger.
"You are the Crown Prince, Legolas," Thranduil said with forced calm, "The only heir to Mirkwood. And the times grow darker. Who knows what shall assail this realm ere all is over? You cannot be spared ion nín, (my son), even if I endorsed this folly of Elrond's, I could not spare you. We must look to our own realm's safety ere we charge blindly into Mordor!"
"You see things in black and white, adar," Legolas said tightly, "If this quest does not succeed, then Sauron shall cover all the lands in a second darkness, this forest included. This quest is to assure the safety of all of Middle Earth! And no matter what the Elves of the Wood do, we shall not be able to stand against all the armies of Dol Guldur, Orthanc and Mordor! It is folly even to think of it! Do you not think that Lord Elrond has considered these points? That this is the only way! And you are blinded to it!"
"If worst comes to worst, then we shall sail West," Thranduil said, "But for a party of ten to march into Mordor with the intention of destroying the Dark Lord, now that is the height of folly and ignorance!"
"You wilfully misunderstand me adar, I am not asking permission to go! I am going! And none of these absolutely absurd actions are going to hinder me!"
Thranduil would not back down, "Now, you have a choice, son. We can do this the easy way, or we can do this the hard--"
But Legolas in a very insolent mood cut him off, "What were my choices again? Because I do not believe you intend on giving me any! You cannot command me like some sort of slave!"
Thranduil ignored his son's attempts to push him away and enfolded his Greenleaf in his arms. "Hush," he said softly, "This pains me even more than it does you, ion nín, but I love you, and it is a parent's duty to protect their children, whatever their age."
As Thranduil used his own gifts to soothe him, Legolas felt himself calming down and his anger dissipating. No, he could not say that Thranduil's arguments did not have some merit; he knew full well what the chains of duty were for a prince.
But he could also not in any good conscience go back on his word to Frodo, and though he wanted desperately to escape from his father's loving chains to Imladris, he was very familiar with his father's cunning, - and the skill of the royal guards.
If his father commanded them to ensure he stayed, then stay he would, if they had to tie him hand and foot and cart him back to the palace.
As Thranduil rejoiced in the first signs of strained, weary acceptance in his son, Legolas tried to figure out a way to get him out of this mess, but to no avail. For a moment his thoughts lighted on Aragorn and a hope was born in his heart, one that he was careful to conceal from his adar.
On Thranduil's side, the Elvenking had not earned such a fearsome reputation for nothing, and he knew full well what direction his child's thoughts were taken, and was ever so glad that Aragorn was currently experiencing the comforts of the dungeons. Elrond would not be pleased, but then again, he often was not when he dealt with Thranduil, and he was sure that Aragorn had slept in many places less comfortable over the years, Cirith Ungol being no exception.
And he had his own plans in reserve to ensure that Legolas did not outsmart him…
xxxxxxxxxxxxxThe dungeons, the lower levels of the royal palace, Mirkwood, 3018 TA, November.
To say that Aragorn was displeased with his current accommodation would be a massive understatement.
While he had suffered through many things for the sake of friendship and duty, he could not remember ever visiting Thranduil's dungeons before.
Admittedly he was given all comfort possible, but he did not particularly appreciate the iron bars that were on the heavy wooden, steel reinforced door that prevented him from going wherever he so wished.
He honestly did not know what Thranduil was thinking, as Aragorn had less chance of escaping from the forest unguarded than Legolas had of escaping from a thoroughly guarded room. If anything, Legolas should be the one in the dungeons, by sheer principal stemming from his tutelage in the mischief making arts by the infamous sons of Elrond.
He was halfway asleep when he a voice resounded through his mind, snapping him back to alertness with all the effectiveness of an ice cold bucket of water.
'Aragorn? Are you well?' Legolas mind-spoke to the ranger.
Aragorn just wished his friend had been there to glare at, 'Legolas?' he replied, 'You never told me you could mind-speak!''
Aragorn swore that he could almost hear the smirk Legolas was undoubtedly wearing, 'There are a lot of things you do not know about me Dúnadan, this was just one. Now, are you alright? What has my adar done with you?''
'Your adar has decided that the dungeons are the perfect remedy for my 'bad influence'', Aragorn replied wryly. 'Dare I ask where he has put his own little terror?'#'
'Under watch, guard, lock and key,' Legolas replied, 'I cannot get out. And it is not from lack of attempts. Can you aid me at all or are you as trapped as me?''
'Well, as I have yet to develop the ability to knock down one foot thick doors,' Aragorn answered sarcastically, 'I would imagine that I am stuck here too.'
Legolas was silent for a moment, 'We must get back to Imladris,' he said, 'Adar will probably send you back there readily but I will not go back on my word nor will I hide in this palace while the battles for Middle Earth take place.'
'Battles?' Aragorn replied, 'Are you truly expecting battles? Because this mission is to be carried out with the utmost stealth and secrecy and therefore, wading into the war shall not be an option.'
'Things never go as they are supposed to,' Legolas answered sagely, 'And if we make it to Mordor without one battle I shall greatly be surprised.'
'As amusing as these speculations are, we are still no closer to freedom from your father than before.' Aragorn pointed out.
'I have no less than six guards outside my chambers, and even I am wary of such a number, but I might be more amenable to six against two.'
'In case it has escaped your attention, I am currently locked in the dungeons with no visible way out. And as I cannot walk through walls, I am unable to help you out, mellon nín.' (my friend) Aragorn replied.
'I can get you out Estel,' Legolas said, 'There are secret passages in the dungeons, made for the aid of the guards.'
Aragorn's sullen face broke out in a wide smile, "I'm listening meldiren…..' (my friend)
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It took him three hours but at last Aragorn had broken out of those cursed lower levels into the palace proper.
The passage had been cramped, damp and dark; all personal favourites of Aragorn's but he had persevered.
Unfortunately, now it had come to a dilemma over how to get rid of Legolas's guards.
Mirkwood Elves were generally known to be 'more dangerous and less wise' than the Eldar, and that was amply demonstrated in the two frightful examples that were Thranduil and Legolas.
But even the general populace of Taur-e-Nelaedelos were dangerous to a fault. They much preferred the 'shoot first, interrogate later' policy as Buffy had once so aptly put it. The standing army of the Wood was lethal, deadly, extremely stealthy and too cunning by half. And that was just the ordinary soldiers, used to dealing with the spiders and other monsters that had plagued the forest since Dol Guldur had been built on Amon Lanc.
But Thranduil's elite royal guards were something else, and even more so the ones assigned to Legolas.
They were the best of the best, and 'deadly' seemed an understatement when describing them. And if the ones constantly assigned to Thranduil had grown a distinct appreciation for their liege's unique method of diplomacy, also known as gross intimidation, then the guards assigned to the prince had grown eyes out of the back of their heads.
From all tales, most laughingly told by Elladan, Elrohir or some of the Wood Elves under the influence of too much wine, Legolas has been a right scamp as an elfling and had frequently made a game out of evading his guards and landing them in untold trouble with the fiery Elvenking as he found out that his adorably innocent little elfling had given them the slip again.
Due to this, the guards had long ago learned to try to counter Legolas's sheer cunning and ability to hide himself anywhere, and had, over the years, become near impossible for the prince to evade when his father was not on his side, as the captain of the guards now knew to cover every possibility, no matter how small, to ensure that his liege's son did not escape them again.
And considering that Aragorn was a mere mortal, and not able to move as silently as an Elf, they posed a considerable problem for the lone ranger.
Help came from Legolas in the form of some very evil ideas on how to take care of the guards, the Elven prince only wanted the ones below his balcony disabled, for then he would be able to get out no problem, and the wily Elf provided Aragorn with all the equipment necessary to accomplish such a feat.
'By all means, take your time Aragorn!' Legolas annoyed mental voice came to him. 'Let us make sure that we never make it to Rivendell on time!'
Aragorn just swore that his friend would pay for this, 'Well, you are not the one who has to lug this around!' he answered back with extreme annoyance, 'Dare I even ask how you came up with this monstrosity in the first place?'
'They are extremely good for smoking out spiders' dens,' Legolas replied, 'Mixed with a draught to induce lassitude to assure that they do not come upon us unawares through the haze. That is why they shall be so helpful in getting rid of Tathren and Bruinel!'
'I knew there was a reason Erestor always shudders when asked to negotiate with Wood Elves!' Aragorn groused, 'You are all insane.'
Even mind-speaking, the Elf sounded miffed, 'Erestor only says so because father thinks it is fun to provoke him incessantly. Now stop complaining else we are stuck here until you are old and grey!'
Moving into position with all the stealth he could muster, Aragorn hefted the ingenious contraption and threw it right into the two guards.
The device burst open silently, flooding the area with cloudy grey smoke and causing the poor overwhelmed guards to drop to the ground.
Only one managed to stagger forward and get a very good grip on Aragorn's tunic, pulling it so hard that Aragorn started to gasp from lack of air, as he tried to pry the guard's death grip from his clothing.
Aragorn did not need to alert Legolas to this change of events, as the Elven Prince had been keeping a sharp look-out, and so he swiftly came to Aragorn's rescue and easily discharged the lone guard left standing.
"I had it under control. I did not need your help." Aragorn protested as Legolas flashed him his patented 'how do you ever manage it?' look.
"Of course," Legolas replied, his face admirably straight, "I am sure that you meant to choke to death. My mistake. Now, let us depart ere my father learns of this."
The last was spoken in such a dark tone that had Aragorn look askance at the normally calm tempered Elf, "Legolas, do not think so ill of your father. You are his only heir. By right you should not be going at all. You should not judge him so harshly.
"Quite frankly I cannot seem to summon up enough energy to care." Legolas answered, "It is more than apparent that he has little trust in me to return, which speaks of his regard for my abilities. He was only trying to protect his kingdom, regardless of how I felt."
"He was trying to protect you… the same as he has done many times before," Aragorn pointed out, "You shall worry him half to death with this escape anyway. Can you not consider that punishment enough?"
"Perhaps." Legolas grudgingly admitted, "But I shall still demand an apology the next time we meet."
"By the way," Aragorn began, "How is your father going to deal with this stunt?"
"I would imagine there will be chaos, panic, and disorder... And so my work here is done." Legolas said with a small smile, "And I daresay that he will skin you alive for helping me!"
"What joy," Aragorn deadpanned as they marched through the forest. One thing for certain, until he was out of these woods, he would be imagining Thranduil's wrath when he caught up with them.
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The Misty Mountains, 3018 TA, 3 weeks later.
The sharp sound of steel meeting steel, and of the twanging of bow-string were the first things to reach Glorfindel's ears as he led his party through the Misty Mountains, back to the valley of Rivendell.
Having been charged with seeking out Radagast the Brown, his party consisted of himself, Boromir of Gondor, Glóin, his son Gimli, and two other Dwarves.
Which was why when Glorfindel went to check out the source of the sounds, he groaned in absolute frustration when he saw the two currently battling with a horde of orcs.
Having put up with very badly hidden crude remarks about himself and the Elven race in general, he knew all too well what the Dwarves' reaction to this little debacle would be.
Help Legolas Thranduilion?
Glorfindel thought they would much rather sit back and hope for some appropriately gruesome death.
But unfortunately for him, as the other combatant was his liege's currently estranged foster son, he had no choice but to wade into the mess they had undoubtedly drawn down upon themselves.
"To arms!" he called to the Dwarves and the grumpy Gondorion, "Orcs are upon us!"
At his words the rest of his party leaped up, grabbing their weapons and followed the golden Elda into the fray. And as Glorfindel had hoped, all were too concerned with slaughtering the orcs to notice the presence of Aragorn and Legolas.
The Dwarves leaped upon the chance to take out their frustration at being led by an Elf by wreaking havoc on the orcs. Boromir took things in his stride, killing the beasts with an orderly fashion that had even Glorfindel doing a double take. Some things were just not meant to be routine.
Carving his way over to the two beleaguered figures, he gave them his best glare whilst simultaneously slicing orcs, "What in Arda are you doing here?!" he hissed, "I thought you were in Mirkwood! Did your father did not give you guards, Legolas?"
The Elven Prince in question winced at his question and even Aragorn's expression darkened noticeably, "Let us not talk about that," Legolas replied while neatly decapitating an orc with his long knife, "'Tis a rather long story and not one I would go into with Dwarves or orcs present."
Typically, the fighting had died down enough by then to allow Gimli son of Glóin to hear that remark and see that that blasted Thranduilion (son of Thranduil), and he gave the Elf a look of such scorching malice as he helped finish off the remaining orcs, that Glorfindel wondered that Legolas was not burned to ashes.
And even as he tried to gather in his enlarged party; consisting of one newly hostile man of Gondor, a grumpy heir of Isildur, a strangely jumpy Elven Prince, and a group of murderous Dwarves.
Apparently the Valar were not satisfied with his dying only once, as it seemed that they were quite eager to see him killed in the middle of the crossfire from this lot…
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Rivendell, 3018 TA, mid December.
The month of December was passing when the sons of Elrond and Buffy returned to Elrond's valley.
Long had their journey been, ever chasing the illusive Ringwraiths, hunting them almost to Gondor's door, where they had been obliged to turn around, having no time to waste and knowing that so close to their master's domain, they could not stop them.
Buffy herself, slayer though she was, had wearied of the chase first. Able to better sense the Ringwraiths due to the poison that had once tainted her and her own slayer abilities, she had grown sick of the chills that wracked her when she got too close to uncloaked evil and felt their ghostly malice.
The twins' concern had turned them into fretting mother hens, until Buffy had been very tempted to kill the twin heirs to Imladris far more times than even Elrond would have guessed.
Due to their harassment, they had returned when Buffy would have chased the wraiths against all common sense, and had taken care of her so dotingly and faithfully that she was this close to knocking them out and gift wrapping them before she delivered them to the Dwarves as playthings.
Unfortunately, she had seen her own reflection lately and knew that 'haggard' was an understatement. Which meant that Elrond and Arwen would descend on her the moment she reached the Last Homely House, and she would be lucky if she escaped from her rooms within a week.
Elrohir noted her dread and tried to soothe her as he would have done Arwen, "Do not fret. I am sure that ada (dad) shall be much too busy with the reports to take much notice of you immediately. And Arwen shall undoubtedly be most busy too."
Buffy had no such illusions, "Oh, they're gonna notice, and then they're gonna kill me." she replied, "And I just know that Erestor will land me in it if I try to sneak in. So either way I'm doomed."
"Adar is not that bad!" Elladan protested. (father)
"No, he's worse," Buffy said, "And way too concerned with my health! You'd swear that if I got a cold, I'd drop dead the way he goes on!"
The brethren had no answer to that, and so they rode up to Elrond's halls in silence.
Buffy visibly winced when she saw Arwen waiting for them, and the steadily growing concern and protective rage gathering on her lovely face. Yep, she was dead.
But the Elf Lady only gave a long suffering sigh and turned to her brothers, "So how many times have you disgraced yourselves?" Arwen asked dryly.
Elladan and Elrohir shared an identical smirk, "At every available opportunity." they answered in unison, causing their younger sister to roll her eyes.
And then when Buffy was trying to sneak away, her arm shot out and grabbed the slayer's, halting her in mid step. "And where do you think you are going?" she demanded, as her brothers smothered laughter behind her, "I am taking you to ada, and then we shall put you in bed for a week! You look terrible!"
Buffy could only mouth an 'I told you so' to the amused twins as she was dragged away, knowing now that it would be the twins to give their report to the Lord of the Valley, because if she knew Elrond, which she did, she was going to be administered a sleeping drought in the very near future.
Valar knew the Elf was the biggest mother hen of them all!
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Elrond's study, Rivendell, 3018 TA, December
With the scout's return, chaos once more descended on the valley of Rivendell.
If it was not Aragorn up in arms over Buffy joining the fellowship whilst glaring at Arwen who was fussing over Buffy's health when she returned with the twins, then Legolas was trying to stop the stem of message-birds his father was sending, all but threatening to cart him off to Valinor and pay back Elrond for 'recklessly endangering Middle Earth and Legolas with his idiotic, Noldorin Peredhel ways, corrupting honest Elves into having ideas of such harebrained nonsense that it just had to be a plot of some sort'. (Half-Elven)
Naturally, Elrond had been very appreciate of the litany of complaints that Thranduil was regularly sending him. It was not as if he did not have enough amused sarcasm from his two chief advisors, Glorfindel and Erestor, who seemed determined to quip him into removing such obviously deranged Elves from their post.
But as if that was not enough to contend with, and the Valar wished to add more to their sport, there was a veritable war taking over the valley.
When asked how it got to this stage, Glorfindel and Erestor had just shrugged and mumbled something about the so-called 'Peredhel penchant for trouble' and walked away quickly.
But Elrond was at the end of his tether.
This on going, and rather sadistic prank war that had roared through the valley with all the chaos that he imagined a landslide and the eruption of Mount Doom together could accomplish.
The Dwarves were at loggerheads with the Elves; Buffy, Aragorn and Arwen made up a triangle that regularly generated loud arguments and the occasional storm of fury throughout the house; the Hobbits, led by Bilbo, were taking bets on the outcomes and tactics of all the other groups, all whilst driving the cooks and Erestor insane because they felt the need to eat their way through the valley's entire winter food stores; Boromir and Aragorn were at odds with each other, and their rivalry transmuted to nearly everything; Gandalf was mad with Buffy because she stole his staff to hit Aragorn with it, and the wizard and the slayer were often seen to be trading either heartily amused or cross looks, depending on which one of them it was; Glorfindel and Buffy had restarted their 'slayer' name calling battles, each trying to best the other; Merry and Pippin were engaged in a mushroom smuggling scam under Sam's nose; Arwen was trying to flirt with Legolas, who was so worried that his father would send guards after him, that he was oblivious to all else save for his continued campaign against the Dwarves.
To sum it all up, Buffy was cranky, Aragorn resentful, the twins were terrors, Legolas was turning out to be a devious mastermind at redefining the term 'cruel and unusual punishment', Boromir was sullen, the Dwarves were riled, his advisors were much too amused for his liking and he was stressed nearly to his limits.
Obviously, either the Valar or Galadriel had decided he deserved punishment for something.
At last count, the list of atrocities was as follows; the Dwarves' beards had been coated with honey while they slept, itching power of some sort had been poured into some key Elves' baths, Erestor's precious stockrooms ransacked, all of Legolas's clothes suddenly found floating in the Bruinen, the Dwarves' axes found being chewed by horses, a mysterious avalanche of horse manure in the dining hall, Glóin mysteriously getting locked in the wine cellar for two days, Aragorn getting bombarded by a horde of angry Dwarves after unwittingly taking the blame for one of the terrible trio's plots, and a flock of birds suddenly deciding to nest in Gimli son of Glóin's room. The list just went on and on.
He was currently doing paperwork and also trying to figure out a way of ending this enmity before he killed them all but sadly his current state of blissful silence was not to last…
The enraged cry of "Lord Elrond!" reached the Lord of Imladris's ears and he winced. Putting down the sheaves of parchment he had been perusing, he schooled his face into calmness and waited for the arrival of his chief advisor.
The sight that greeted him was one so shocking that even he, long trained in the art of composure thanks to his darling children, could not hide his surprised and horrified expression.
Standing in the doorway, looking like a mountain had fallen in on him was Erestor; covered in head to toe with flour and other foodstuffs and wine staining and dripping from his finely appointed robes.
The look on his face resembled Smaug in a temper; Elrond thought idly; he could almost see the smoke coming from Erestor. Fanned ever higher by the roaring fire that was his anger. Elrond did not even have to ask to know what had happened to the unfortunate Elf.
He had become the latest victim in the ongoing prank war, though from the looks of it, Erestor had fallen prey to the twins' group. It just was very much those three terrors style. Legolas had this uncanny knack of hitting people where it hurt.
"Dare I even ask?" Elrond said in resignation, "Or should I just find my two demons?"
"This is out of hand, Elrond!" Erestor said, barely holding his temper in check for the moment, "They have ruined two weeks work!"
The awful implication came into the Elvenlord's head, "Not that!" he exclaimed, "Surely they would not be so foolish as to destroy something that benefited them too!"
"Aye, my lord," Erestor said, sounding strained, "The leaving feast is ruined. And I have not yet even factored in the Hobbits' decimation of the stores."
"You cannot salvage the feast?" Elrond asked, "Arwen was so looking forward to it and I was hoping to force the fellowship to behave ere they left."
"Try cooking a feast when your own kitchen is attacking you." Erestor drawled, even as the gunk he was covered in dripped to the polished floor. "Come with me my lord." he said, leading the Peredhel to the wreck that once was the kitchen.
Smoke was coming out of the ovens, a water pipe had burst, there was flour and jam, and other foodstuffs everywhere. And there was a squad of absolutely furious and thoroughly food-encased Elves trying to fix the mess.
"This is a complete and total disaster. Someone just kill me and spare me the agony of clean up." Elrond groaned, as he realised that this was not something that would be remedied quickly. Apparently Imladris would have to adapt new methods of cooking or starve thanks to his sons and friends.
"Ask and you shall receive." Erestor said, pulling out a dagger from his robes, looking decidedly dangerous.
Elrond was not amused, "They will have to be punished for this. But as this rate, the entire Fellowship shall be implicated." Erestor's expression darkened as he realised that Elrond was not going to disembowel the culprits.
"Considering the current trend for Fellowship members to land in the most bothersome sort of ill luck lately, I say that you would be lucky to have even one left by the time they leave. Because I swear that I am gong to kill them myself for this outrage!" Erestor roared menacingly as he stormed off, fury like a cloud around him and looking decidedly lethal.
He half hoped the culprits remembered Erestor's prowess during the Last Alliance. And even Legolas and the twins would be hard pressed to match the sheer underhanded devious genius that was Erestor with a grudge.
On second thoughts, he thought to himself, a wicked smirk spreading across his face, they deserve everything they get. And Erestor loses his temper so rarely that it is indeed a precious sight. This should be most amusing….
And with that he hurried out to help his advisor slaughter the tormenters of Rivendell…
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Two days before the fellowship left, Elrond took Aragorn aside for an important event. "The Sword That Was Broken has been reforged."
"The time has come then?" Aragorn asked quietly. He knew that this moment had been coming and was even able to overcome his own lingering resentment towards the Elvenlord. "Narsil is to be drawn again?"
"Nay," Elrond replied, shaking his head, and handing Aragorn the sword in its sheath, "Narsil passed into history with its bearer. And the time has now come again for a new challenge and a new name. Andúril it shall be called, the Flame of the West, for with it lies the hope of the Lords of the West, even if he had none himself."
He watched Aragorn draw the blade, testing its balance and admiring the craftsmanship, and in him he saw a King, and renewed hope, "Let your heart lead you Aragorn, and I hope that this blade serves you well," he said as he left quietly, leaving Aragorn to ponder on his fate.
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Elrond had been able to overlook some things, but then they had gone too far and the Dwarves had desecrated the library, that most sacred of places.
That meant that they all had to die.
Elves dived out of his way as he stormed past them, his glower so dark that even Sauron himself would have thought twice ere going near him.
To even think that they had dared topple the shelves filled with millennia of history and painful work! He had found it much amusing that Erestor had tried to cut strips of flesh off his three sons and Legolas, but this was an entirely different type of rage.
Storming into the great hall with all the demeanour of an Elvenlord about to incite a Kinslaying, Elrond shocked the residents of Rivendell into a stupor. The last time he had been this mad was when Arwen told him that she wanted to choose a mortal life.
Arwen, gleefully watching as her brothers got their due, cheerfully gave Buffy a running commentary of events, as the slayer joined her in watching the gathered Elves and disgruntled Dwarves get their comeuppance.
"My brothers Elladan, Elrohir and Estel," Arwen explained rather unnecessarily, "They are in a lot of trouble with dear ada. It appears that someone ransacked the library. Ada is furious."
Buffy watched the rampaging Lord Elrond for a moment before replying, "Yes, I think he is."
Beside them Boromir could not help but overhear their conversation and broke in, "The son of Arathorn is involved in this?" he asked.
"Up to his dense little head," Buffy replied, "Though I'd wager it was the Dwarves' fault. The twins are not that stupid."
As Elrond's rage peaked, a bright white glow surrounded him, and a wind started to blow throughout the room. "That is enough!" he roared, levelling fierce and terrible glares on all in the hall, especially the Dwarves and the group of Elves responsible. "Middle Earth is on the brink of war and you act like children! I will tolerate it no more! I will not let you destroy us, saving Sauron the bother of doing so! Any more nonsense and all of you shall be treated to a stay behind locked doors! And I will not be held responsible for my actions! Do I make myself clear?!"
The Dwarves looked scared, the Elves only a little less so but all agreed and then watched as Elrond stormed out of the all, leaving almost as impressionably as he had come in.
"Bit of a hothead isn't he?" Buffy remarked idly, "I mean he made with the glowy thing for the first time this year."
Arwen just looked at the shaken group in the hall, "That has been building up for months." she said aloud, and then mindful of Boromir's presence, she mind-spoke to Buffy, 'Vilya stirs, and he fears for the Fellowship. Some say 'tis only a fool's hope and that he has doomed us all. Adar is in no mood for levity, not when the Shadow is closing in…'
Buffy couldn't bring herself to disagree with her, she knew the facts all too well. Unless some miracle happened, there wasn't much hope for Frodo.
And what she feared most was once again being the last one left standing, and the last one to decide the fate of the Ring.
The Ring whose call she felt in her very bones, and the one thing she didn't know if she could beat…
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Rivendell, 3018 TA, 25 December.
The date the Fellowship left was a great irony to Buffy; they would set off to save Middle Earth on Christmas day. Which in her opinion sucked because she would be missing all the festivities and have to trek through snow in the near future.
But what was really aggravating her as she said her goodbyes was Glorfindel, who seemed intent on sending her off with his usual barrage of cutting remarks.
"It's Christmas and instead of presents, I get insults. Yep, things are just looking so great at the moment," Buffy said sarcastically, glaring at the Elf who was ruining the leaving feast for her.
While not as sparse on food as Elrond and Erestor had feared, they had made up any defences with plenty of ale.
Which in Buffy's opinion equated to lots of drunk Dwarves.
Buffy spared a glance at the Dwarf and then turned her attention back to her friend, "Methinks the dwarf is drunk," she pronounced, watching Gimli sway on his feet and wincing at his awful singing. "Why don't you go help him out Glorfindel?" she suggested sweetly, but with a devilish gleam in her eye, "I'm sure he would welcome being helped by such a famous little boy scout."
While Glorfindel did not often understand her references, he had learned over the years that 'boy scout' was not a name he liked and so he levelled a sharp glare on her. "But I think he would benefit from a lady's touch," he replied just as saccharinely sweetly, "After all, 'twould mean that you actually would be able to beat the Dwarf as he is so charmingly drunk."
"I have bested every foe I've met." Buffy said dangerously, giving 'Balrog Boy' a pointed look.
"I slayed a Lord of Balrogs." Glorfindel defended.
"Oh," Buffy said silkily, "But I'm worse than a Balrog."
Glorfindel could not deny that, - she was a right little minx - and decided to change tactics. "I came back from the dead." Glorfindel defended.
"So did I. Two times." Buffy said. "Let's see you beat that, buddy! I can best you with my eyes closed!"
"Please! No matter how good you are, I fought in the First Age. Nothing like being in the middle of Morgoth's reign to get in some target practice." Glorfindel said airily and then seeing someone approach to take Buffy away, he got serious, "Be careful Dagnir (slayer), you have a dark road ahead of you."
Buffy smiled, understanding his abrupt switch from hostile to caring, "Thank you for everything. You have been a major pain in the ass."
"Well, you are welcome and let me assure you that you have been an even bigger pain in my ass." Glorfindel replied, "I would say more but someone comes for you."
At his words, Buffy turned around to find herself face to face with Aragorn, "Buffy," he said quietly, "Shall you dance? I desire to speak with you."
Sensing that the time for reconciliation had come, Buffy agreed and allowed Aragorn to lead her out onto the dance floor.
'Twas not a slow song, but then again it was nothing like the discos and parties of LA and Sunnydale, and she had to firmly squash the little fluttery feelings as Aragorn held her in his arms.
Bad Buffy, bad! She admonished herself, and focused on hearing what the ranger was saying.
"I think 'tis time to put our differences aside, Buffy," Aragorn said, "I am sorry for my interference, but you have already been into Mordor once on my account, I did not wish to see you go there a second time."
"I can handle myself, Aragorn," Buffy reminded him gently, "I was kinda born to kill baddies. And Mordor can't be worse than where I come from, which was like Monsterville, or Evilsville. I can handle it. I'd worry about myself, if I were you."
"I too can take care of myself," Aragorn said with a chuckle, "And one way or another, my destiny lies in Mordor."
"Then can we stop the fighting? 'Cos I'm kinda getting sick of it?" Buffy said, "You promise not to act all overprotective mother hen and I'll try not to get killed. Deal?"
"'Tis not what I like, but I have no choice Buffy," Aragorn said, "You will always show me up Dagnir. Who am I to command the Vampire Slayer?"
"Too true," Buffy said, as the song ended and Aragorn released her, leaving her feel somewhat bereft, "But I have to go. I have to say my goodbyes."
Without a word, Aragorn let her go, but she felt his eyes on her for the remainder of the evening.
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Rivendell, 3018 TA, 25 December, dusk.
At dusk, the Fellowship gathered to depart the fair valley.
The company took little gear of war, for their hope was in secrecy not in battle. And a lot lay in their speed, which meant light packs.
All were furnished by Elrond with thick warm clothes, and they had jackets and cloaks lined with fur. Spare food and clothes and blankets and other needs were laden on Bill the pony, whom Sam had fallen in love with on the journey from Bree.
For once, the group was not filled with strife, but with solemn dread of the great task before them.
Their farewells had been said in the great hall by the fire, and they were only waiting now for Gandalf, who had not yet come out of the house. A gleam of firelight came from the open doors, and soft lights were glowing in many windows. Bilbo huddled in a cloak, stood silent on the doorstep beside Frodo.
Buffy sat on a low wall, trying to ignore the whispers of the Ring and talking quietly with Arwen, whose face was grave and worried for her friend. And Aragorn sat with his head bowed to his knees; only Elrond, and perhaps Arwen or Buffy knew fully what this hour meant to him. The others could only be seen as grey shapes in the darkness.
Elrond came out with Gandalf, and he headed to Arwen's side first, drawing her away from Buffy, and gently squeezing her shoulder in a gesture of support.
Elrond then called the company to him. "This is my last word," he said in a low voice, "The Ring-bearer is setting out on the Quest of Mount Doom. On him alone is any charge laid; neither to cast away the Ring, nor to deliver it to any servant of the Enemy nor indeed to let any handle it, save members of the company and the council, and only then in the greatest need. The others go with him as companions, to help him on his way. You may tarry, or come back, or turn aside into other paths, as chance allows. The further you go, the less easy it will be to withdraw; yet no oath or bond is laid on you to go further than you will. For you do not yet know the strength of your hearts, and you cannot foresee what each may meet upon the road."
"Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens," said Gimli, Buffy only silently watched him, remembering past events, where her friends had turned their backs on her when her road had darkened. Even so many years after, what was a lifetime ago, it still had the power to hurt her.
"Maybe," Elrond said sagely, looking sombrely at the Dwarf, "but let him not vow to walk into the dark, who has not seen the nightfall."
"Yet sworn word may strengthen quaking heart." said Gimli with his usual stubbornness.
"Or break it," warned Elrond, "Look not too far ahead! But go now with good hearts! Farewell, and may the blessings of Elves and Men and all Free Folk go with you. May the stars shine upon your faces!"
"Good…. Good luck!" cried Bilbo, stuttering with the cold, but trying to be supportive of his heir, "I don't suppose you will be able to keep a diary, Frodo my lad, but I shall expect a full account when you get back. And don't be too long! Farewell!"
Many others of Elrond's household stood in the shadows and watched them go, bidding them farewell with soft voices. There was no laughter, and no song or music.
And when at last the Fellowship started moving towards the exit of the valley, Arwen emerged from the shadows where she had withdrawn to scrutinise him, pain evident in her grey eyes, and without any word to anyone, she left for her room.
Elrond glanced around for a sign of his wayward daughter, knowing that her heart had to be pained, but all he saw was the barest hint of a robe disappearing around a corner.
Apparently Arwen's feelings ran deeper than he knew…
He only hoped to the Valar that all returned alive, or he realised that he might have saved his daughter from Aragorn only to lose her to grief.
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'Twas a quiet party that walked out of the valley, and Aragorn was no exception.
Many stranger and bewildering feelings had plagued him ever since he had held Buffy in his arms when he danced with her that night, and even now, though he tried to rid himself of the thoughts, he found himself thinking of her constantly.
Turning his head, he sought out her petite form in the darkness, wondering how she truly felt about the Fellowship's endeavour. By coincidence or perhaps she felt his eyes on her, she turned to look at him then.
And as Aragorn looked upon Buffy's grave face, and their eyes met, both alight with the same understanding of the toil and trouble that lay ahead, the ranger felt his heart clench a little, and he nearly staggered away from her unknowing gaze as realisation hit.
He really did have feelings for his Vampire Slayer…
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A/N: Well? What do you think? Feedback welcome and hoped for! Please READ and REVIEW!!!!
Next chapter: The Fellowship leave for darker pastures… They learn the meaning of the word avalanche… and they get a surprise in the night….
Elvish:
Dúnadan - Man of the West
Adar - father
Ion nín - my son
Imladris - Rivendell
Mellon nín - my friend
Estel - hope
Meldiren - my friend
Mîr - Jewel
Ada - dad
Peredhel - Half-Elven
Thranduil - son of Thranduil
Andúril - Flame of the West
Dagnir - slayer
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Amon Lanc - 'the Naked Hill' in Sindarin. The site of the tower of Dol Guldur in Southern Mirkwood.
Bruinen - translated: Loudwater. The river bordering the valley of Rivendell. It is under Elrond's sway and he can make it flood at need.
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.
Dol Guldur - 'Hill of Sorcery'. A treeless height in the south-west of Mirkwood, a stronghold of the Necromancer before he was revealed as Sauron returned. Houses three Nazgûl, led by Khamûl.
Naugrim - 'stunted ones'. Elvish term for Dwarves.
Númenor - Land of the Star. Translated 'Westland'. When Elros Half-Elven, Elrond's twin, chose to be of the Race of Men, the Valar granted him an island to rule over. It was prepared by the Valar as a dwelling place for the Edain after the First Age. Elros, granted a longer lifespan because of his Elven heritage, and the rest of the Edain who followed him were long lived as well, became Elros Tar-Minyatur, first King of Númenor.
Oropher - King of Greenwood (now known as Mirkwood) in the Second Age. Was killed during the Last Alliance when he refused to follow Gil-galad's lead in the Last Alliance of Elves and Men and he led a charge too soon, losing two thirds of his army and dying himself. Generally thought to be cantankerous. He was the father of Thranduil.
Taur-e-Nelaedelos - The name of Mirkwood in Sindarin. It means 'Forest of the Great Fear'. This is what Greenwood the Great (Eryn Galen in Sindarin) was named after the rise of Dol Guldur.
Vilya - the Ring of Air. Strongest of the three Elven Rings made by Celebrimbor. Borne by Elrond.
Yávien - The name of Legolas's mother and Thranduil's queen. in this story. (fictional of course). Translates to 'Autumn'. She was slaughtered by orcs who recognised her as Thranduil's Queen, and her body was dumped back in the forest for the Elven patrols to find, as a message and a warning for Thranduil.
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