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: (bows dramatically) thank you! Thank you! I am delighted with the response for the previous chapter and I freely admit that I am totally evil. So to everyone who wishes to kill me, I would like to point out that you don't know where I live so you can't get me! (sing-song voice there, if you didn't get it.)
P.S - I am VERY sorry about the delay, and especially after the cliffhanger of the last chapter but not only did I have a full week and a half of Christmas exams and a bout of flu, not to mention all the usual Christmas preparations. Suffice it to say that I was very, very busy.
Review responses:
Agarwaen - I know what you mean. I like to change things to the story or else where's the fun? Or the point?
Aleviel - why, thank you! And actually, technically, Buffy's memory would be enough to sustain a crossover in which she has already done so much. But no, Aragorn is not going to kill himself. He does have a destiny. And yes, I've got plenty cooked up.
Alexceasar - a lot of people seem to hate me of late.
Allen Pitt - never say never. Okay, I admit that Éowyn would be a good candidate as a slayer but that's not the way this fic is going. No Conner. Ever. But there may be another crossover character for the sequel….
Athene Saile - Buffy will not be joining Gandalf.
AznMi - why thank you. But your logic needs a little work. Buffy can die. She has before. And come back. And die again.
ChibiChibi - thanks! I guess you must be psychic. The monster Buffy fought is a slayer killer dreamed up by Sauron.
Claddagh - sadly, no it won't.
Donna8 - I always have a trick up my sleeve.
Dreamer Child - interesting idea. And one I've already considered for another fic. Thank you for all your lovely comments! They were so encouraging! And if I made the hints obvious, what would be the point? It's fun leading readers on! And there were not two Balrogs. There was one unnamed monster and one Balrog. When unnamed monster attacked Buffy, Gandalf took over with the Balrog.
Eámanë Aldaríon of Rivendell - did I ever mention that your reviews always send me into fits of glee? And fate, when it's bad, always comes early when Buffy is concerned. I made you cry? Awww. I always thought that Gandalf did sacrifice himself for the Fellowship, ever since I first saw the film. And I never said she was dead. Yet. And hell… well, that's not really something you can avoid. And no, Buffy's task is not complete. Just like Gandalf. But sorry, she really doesn't know about Aragorn. Buffy's self-esteem - not good when it comes to men. And the creature is a slayer-killer. More to be explained in this chapter so I'll lay off the details. And it was there waiting just for her. Wasn't she lucky? Of Narya… well, that's to be cleared up later. Can't just give that away, you know. Thank you for your fabulous review, they always make my day. And what ideas to send my muse spinning? I LIKE when it does that! Tell me! Tell me! Námarië!
Estrecca - hi! Thanks for reviewing! Okay, on to answering your questions. 1- the monster was my own invention. A slayer killer. More detail is in this chapter. 2 - no one gets the slayerness. 3 - no, Gandalf dies. 4 - not understanding the reference. 5 - the monster was one, and there's more to come. 6 - it would, wouldn't it?
FallenAdieu - another lurker coming out of the woodwork! Yay! Welcome back! And yes, the chapters seem to be getting longer. The more story that I have to pack in, the longer they get. And I always have something else planned for the poor girl. Whenever has she gotten a break on my watch? And yes, the Aragorn and Buffy scene with the betrothal out in the open should definitely be interesting!
FallenStar2 - wow. Thanks. I'm glad that you didn't drop the hot cocoa onto your laptop. Major ouch there. And Buffy's fate is always painful. And why stop the 'Let's kill Buffy in the most insane, inhumane and painful way possible!' moments. They're fun! Uh, this, a nicer chapter? … read on and see…
gatemaster - cliffhangers are only annoying to the one reading them.
Haley - thanks! And of course I know. Have I gotten death threats? At last count, I have about sixty people wanting to kill me. And no, they will not both come back at Fangorn. Sorry, but I've got other plans….
Idrisien - okay, thanks for all the nice things you said, and I take no offence, nor mean to give you any, but I do feel that I have to address your, in my opinion, somewhat unfounded criticisms. I screwed up continuity? No offence, but the Nazgûl were in Dol Guldur in the early 2000's of the Third Age. And Sauron was hanging around before then as well. Also, I think it is slightly rich that you're ragging on me for spoiling continuity and then slagging me off for sticking to canon for the first part of the Fellowship's journey. Please make up your mind. Okay, Buffy is there but everything hasn't turned out the same. She's there to alter things somewhat not change the entire proceedings! That would be wrecking Tolkien's story. Also, Narya has a new bearer, Aragorn and Arwen are no longer together, Boromir is on track not to be such a prat and the seeds are being sown for numerous plot and canon deviations. Also the 'fool of a Took' line is Gandalf's favourite saying with regards to Pippin so I think that gives me license to use it.
Imp17 - you're right. Death has never stopped her. Haunting Aragorn is a new idea though.
Irina - what do you mean by 'quite a different animal'. I'm curious. Please explain..
Jenn - I do try to keep it unpredictable. (blushes) thanks for all the comments! They are so great! And I like throwing my readers into uproar. It's how I get my sadistic fun. Thanks for the brilliant review!
Kit-Kat - true… and however did you guess about the hell bit? And the question of when and where… do you really think I'm going to answer that?
Lady Alathon - should I be looking into bodyguards?
Lady of the Wood - you'll find out Buffy's fate in this chapter. Some of it anyway.
Lali-chan - thanks! 'my precious' hmmm, just don't start to dress like Gollum and you should be okay.
Lariren - very good! You are the only one to catch that! Yes, the monster was made by Sauron from Buffy's blood with the purpose of killing her.
Light Spinner - I know what you mean. There is no way that Buffy would just hang back when there is a Balrog to kill.
Lisette - yes, the Ring of Fire has a big part to play. And I'm trying to make her non-creepy. Buffy the White Slayer? I don't think so. And I get what you mean about the soap operas. Definitely starting to feel like that, albeit better written I hope. And if the guy got the girl too soon, it would eliminate some major plot twists in this story, which are as of yet undisclosed. And who said that I wouldn't give them relationship crises and all that? There is to be a sequel after all! And the X-Files quote, I have a friend who is into all that stuff and they passed on the quote to me when I bounced by ideas for Buffy's death off them.
Liit06 - thanks! Buffy is going to have an interesting experience that's for sure! And Aragorn couldn't afford to go into a longer trance, I'm afraid. Okay, about the sequel. I'm not going to take too long a break from writing and my finals should be finished by then, so I'd estimate between 1-3 weeks. But ask me again closer to the finish of this story and then I'll know better.
Loki2525 - you hit on a good future bone of contention! Well done! However, you will just have to wait and see like everyone else! And the Lady of the Wood is going to be one busy lady.
Lunawolf - do a glorfy? Whatever do you mean?
Malfeus - so far, you're the only one besides me cackling! Well done!
Mari - welcome back! And Murphy's Law has hit me a lot too so I sympathise. And how did you know about the dissenters? No, Arwen will not be in Lórien when the fellowship are but don't rule it out for later.
MiShA - thanks! And I never said she was actually dead yet…
N/A - I never said they get together at Helms Deep, did I? I don't remember that.
Night-Owl123 - read on and see…
Pamie884 - (listens to the cursing) thanks! I was aiming for 'heart-stopper'. And why wouldn't I be cruel?
Procrastinating - read more carefully. Buffy was fighting the unknown monster while Gandalf took over the Balrog.
Sapph89 - don't worry, the great revelation isn't too far away now!
Shadow Master - thanks! Buffy's tumble off the bridge has been planned since the summer. The sword into the wall idea is an interesting one but sadly not the one that I used. Buffy? Platinum blonde like Spike? No, there will be no 'Buffy the White'. One Gandalf is more than enough!
Shabopo - not yet…
ShawThang - hi! And okay, the ending was horrible and ominous but we're getting into war territory here!
Shimmyontherooftops - welcome back! And thanks for all the virtual sweets! And yes, I did get sick.
silverrowan - such a romantic view! Awww. But you'll be waiting…
Sol - Buffy didn't fall with the Balrog. She fell with the other monster.
Sparky24 - irony is a good word for it, isn't it?
Star - Thanks! expect the unexpected? Probably a good analogy for this fic!
Tara6 - read a tad more carefully. Buffy fought the unnamed monster; Gandalf had the Balrog after that came into play.
Tiamante Salazar Tameran - I try to be original.
Trickster-jz - All questions answered in the next chapter.
Tsuki No Yasha - thanks! I made you cry? Don't take this the wrong way but yay! Glad to know that the chapter had impact. And Aragorn will explain himself soon.
Vik - yes, there is a reason for the death. More than one actually.
And major thanks and a round of applause to:
Agent-G, Ally, anonymous, Becky, Boo, BuffyandDracoLover, Draco's Slytherin Vampiress, Dream-Dancer-Salem, eliska-grainne, ellie, emerald sorceress, fairieangel, Forevermore-fated-feared, General Mac, goldenshadows, Greenleaf, Kalika55, Kat, Little Red Rabbit, rosie, Sabia, Saint Maverick, Sarah e, scruffybunny, Selene, shari, slayergirl, Stix, Stix89, The Witch From Next Door, viggo lover, Vixen519, zayra,
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE: FROM BENEATH YOU IT DEVOURS
The Last Homely House, Rivendell, 3019, TA. January 15, - Late afternoon.
Walking in the lush gardens of the valley, Elrond Peredhel was enjoying the rare chance of a peaceful afternoon.
Heavy had been his heart since the Fellowship departed, and Arwen's own worry over her loved ones in the company was a palpable force in the valley. And he could not discount her fears; not when she voiced only what he was thinking.
That they had only a fool's hope.
It was the general opinion in the valley that the Fellowship would fail, and the Ring would be restored to its master, and it greatly distressed Arwen, and to a lesser extent Elladan and Elrohir, who itched to ride to war instead of staying in the still peaceful valley.
He could only hope and pray that against all odds, the fellowship would succeed where the Last Alliance had not and destroy the One Ring.
He could come under heavy fire from some of the more conservative of his advisors, who had little fate in the Fellowship of the Ring, and thought him mad to have thrown away the weapon of the enemy so lightly.
For the most part he ignored them, but after weeks of listening to the same useless drivel and criticism, he often had had enough and escaped the confinement of his study, where they could easily find him, and slipped out into the grounds, Celebrían's own corner of them especially, seeking to refresh his spirit and mind and soothe his restless soul.
But as he meandered through the greenery this eve; peace was not something that the fates had planned for him.
As suddenly as lightning, Elrond felt Vilya flare to life on his finger even as his mind was seized with some vision of foresight.
Shadow and flame…. A lone blonde figure, small in stature but great in courage; a familiar red and golden ring upon her finger… A thing coming from the darkness, and hitting into her… a fight…. A fellowship's screams… and the blonde figure tumbled into the great abyss, the darkness closing in about her…..
With a startled, horrified gasp, he jerked back as the images fled his mind and Vilya's warmth cooled upon his finger. And then he tried to process what his horrified mind had witnessed.
Somehow or another, Buffy had become the bearer of Narya; he could not help but recognise that ring, seen so often by him gracing Mithrandir's hand.
And through some twist of fate, something had claimed Buffy's life at last…
Staggering as he registered the significance of the vision, and of Buffy's long held back doom, he wondered how on earth one such as she had fallen, and if she had, after so many years, fallen; what did that mean for the rest of the Fellowship?
Galadriel had long maintained that Buffy had a part to play in the battle for Middle Earth, and he himself had just cherished victory by Aragorn being made aware of his feelings for the fiery slayer.
With one so strong gone, what doom did this spell for the company?
And what of Narya, now lost, Elrond also thought with no little horror. To lose Buffy, one he held dear, was a dreadful blow in itself, but to allow one of the Three to fall into darkness…
With her defences compromised, how could Rivendell stand against the shadow now?
And how, he wondered, closing his eyes in despair, was he ever going to inform his children of the terrible tragedy that had dashed his slim hopes for the success of a mission where failure was not an option and cost them a treasured friend?
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Caras Galadhon, Lothlórien, 3019, TA. January 15, - Late afternoon.
At the same time that Elrond was being assailed by visions in Rivendell, Galadriel, wandering restlessly around her city, felt a strange compulsion to go to her mirror.
She never ignored the call, knowing as she did that Nenya to whom the mirror was bound, would only compel her so when the message was dire or of great import.
Most often these past few weeks, her mirror had been showing her the various ways that this war for Middle Earth could be lost or won. She saw little that could help any plans, and much that was confusing but the small glimpses that she saw of the fellowship or of those dear to her, ensured that she did not give up looking every day.
Not when any scrap of information could be used to some advantage to bring about the fall of Sauron.
Gliding over to the mirror, she filled the ewer and poured it into the shallow basin, and waited for the images to come.
As fire and shadow covered the surface of the mirror, she gasped in shock and involuntarily took a step back.
She knew that there was but one known Balrog in the west of Middle Earth, and if the fellowship had dared tread the treacherous paths of Moria….
A survivor of the First Age, of Morgoth's reign, she knew all too well that for most, an encounter with a Balrog meant an ugly death.
But watching the images change rapidly on the surface of the water, she could not make things out distinctly, all she could sense was Nenya calling out to its sibling; Narya, the Ring of Fire, and she felt the danger towards that one of the Three.
She knew not what had happened when the mirror faded, becoming still water once more, but she did know that Narya had fallen into shadow; and that Gandalf had not been the bearer at the time.
But that left the horrible question; which one of the company had Narya taken into darkness with it?
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Deep within the bowels of the Mines of Moria, 3019, TA. January 16, - Morning.
Speeding down the long dark abyss, with only the fire of the Balrog to light his way; Gandalf wondered when everything had gone so wrong and when this final torment would end.
He had done his best to save all that could be saved, but he had not foreseen that Buffy would fall with him, and with her Narya. He resented the loss of the ring but mourned the tragic end of such a brave woman.
He knew that he himself could not survive a battle with this Balrog, that he had yet to kill, and whatever the creature had been that had attacked the slayer, it did not seem to him a thing to be put off the kill by any sort of drop.
No, it seemed that in the end, the bleak darkness Moria would have the last laugh as always.
And then they hit the dark water, and amidst the hissing of newly steaming water and the great splash caused by the impact, Gandalf the Grey fell into darkness.
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Deep within the bowels of the Mines of Moria, 3019, TA. January 16, - Morning.
Having untangled herself from her foe in the fall that seemed to happen in slow motion, Buffy Summers was beginning to believe in the term 'scared to death'. - Literally.
Tumbling through the darkness with all the grace of a cumbersome boulder, she really had to wonder at her luck.
She had chosen this course willingly, knowing what would be expected her; she had made the sacrifice willingly but she had to admit that she had expected her end to be somewhat quicker, and not the long drawn out affair that it seemed to be evolving into. Especially since she had yet to even see the bottom of this great big pit she was freefalling down.
She only hoped that her friends had all made it out safely, and that none of them had done anything foolish.
And if there was one consolation to this whole dying thing, it was that she would not have to watch Aragorn and Arwen marry. Or deal with Thranduil's bound to be considerable ire at aiding and abetting his runaway son despite all his letters to herself and Arwen to dissuade him.
She had been falling for what seemed like an eternity, the echoes of her own first scream still echoing against the stone walls, when she finally spotted the bottom of the damned hole.
Twisting herself as she fell so that she might be able to land on her feet, she spotted and overhanging rock jutting out from the wall and grabbed onto it with all her might.
Her hands scraped and bruised and her body slammed painfully into the rock face as she swung, clinging from the rough ledge but she did get the satisfaction of seeing the monster go splat first.
Glad that her momentum had been stopped and wincing at her new collection of injuries, she contemplated her options.
There were not many.
She could stay dangling here until her arms were numb or she could jump. Neither seemed to be good options, but when had she ever had a decent run of good luck since becoming the slayer? It was always one disaster after another.
Taking a deep breath, she took the only option that was open to her; still seeking survival against all the odds. She supposed that was either the sheer stubbornness that Elrond so often accused her of, or the determination of the slayer, but she wasn't giving up yet.
Closing her eyes with a little prayer, she let go and fell the next twenty feet, aiming for the pitch-dark, damp, and murky cavern that lay below her. She managed to land on her feet but the impact jarred her and she fell flat on her back as her head impacted against the cold, unforgiving stone and blackness overtook her.
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But unbeknownst to Buffy, even as she lay conscious and still in the cavern, was that the creature that she had tackled had not gone 'splat' after all.
For this was no ordinary creature of Middle Earth. It had been created with one sole purpose; to kill Buffy Summers, even if it knew not her name.
Created in the pits of Barad-dûr, with a vial of Buffy's own blood, procured by the Witch King so many year ago, it had come into existence to be a slayer of slayers.
Except without any of the weaknesses that the human Buffy possessed.
Though the Dark Lord knew not exactly who she was or even what she was, he knew that such a woman could not be allowed to aid his enemies and so he had set some of his minions to work to create something to fell her.
And so they had crossed the slayer strength with the strongest strains of orc and man they could find, and so created a creature that even the slayer would not be able to defeat.
Long had it lurked in the mines of Moria, having tracked her there once, but had not been able to pick up the trail outside the Dwarrowdelf, thanks to the bewitchment of the Elf-witch Galadriel of the Golden Wood, and so it had settled into the mines, waiting for its prey to return.
And contrary to Buffy's own opinion, the sword wound she had dealt it had not killed it, nor would it ever be a mortal wound. And so when it had hit the ground after the long fall, it had scuttled away into the welcoming darkness to nurse itself to good health and wait for another opportunity to strike.
More intelligent than the orcs it had been sprung from, it knew that Buffy too would have to seek a way out. And on such a route, when she was wearied and tired, it would be much easier to ambush her then and spare it the trouble of receiving such nuisances as wounds.
But mostly recovered now, it had resumed the hunt once more. The fiery creature, the Balrog of Morgoth, that he shared his hunting grounds with, had acknowledged him too, but had its own prey in the form of a wizard, and so it was left to hunt its unwitting maker uncontested by the strongest monster in the halls.
And as it scuttled silently through the dark passages, it picked up the scent of blood and as its own bloodlust rose to the surface, a feral grin twisted its features grotesquely as it closed in on an unsuspecting slayer.
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Deep within the bowels of the Mines of Moria, 3019, TA, January 17.
Having had a most unpleasant landing, Buffy had a most unpleasant awakening as well.
Her eyes snapping open as she slammed into the wall was not, in her opinion, the most ideal way to wake from rock induced unconsciousness but the monster doing all the throwing seemed to have no objections to the idea.
She barely managed to move quick enough to avoid the scimitar that embedded itself in the wall where her head had been, and she staggered gracelessly to her feet as she wheeled around to find the foe, that she thought she had killed, advancing on her with single-minded deadly intent.
Cursing her luck, she looked around for her missing sword, only to find the monster wielding it against her. Cursing, she hefted her mithril knife, and diving to the side, avoided the first swing of the monster, gasping as she flipped and rolled to the ground as her injured hip decided to protest the lack of painkillers.
Flipping to her feet, she looked around for a way out, and found that the only exit seemed to be the one that this cursed nuisance of a monster was blocking.
Seeing that her only hope lay in fighting, and winning, against it, she stood her ground and let it come.
It circled her for a few minutes and she took the opportunity to study it for any weaknesses. But to her eyes, it moved with a disheartening fluidity and strength. Falling back on her old well-tried techniques, she knew that if you didn't know how to kill something, cutting off its head was usually a good idea.
Except she didn't think this creature was going to go poof like vampires did so conveniently.
She had to get the extreme irony of it all. Here she was, still alive after doing her 'noble sacrifice' thing, and instead of getting a relatively quick death, the PTB seemed to be having bucket loads of fun trying to see how many times they could kill her off in various different ways. Like getting sliced and diced.
But even if she had expected to finally meet her end, she found that now that she was still alive and all, she strangely didn't feel like just giving up either. Which meant she was going to have to beat this little stalker of hers.
Taking the offensive, she launched herself at the monster but it evaded her with deadly speed and as its blade swung, she found herself being pushed back onto the defensive.
Block, parry, block, duck, became her mantra as she struggled to make her injured body move as fast as it could to counter the otherworldly speed of her opponent.
But as she once more found herself flat on her back, scrambling for her weapons, she realised with no little trepidation that trying to meet fire with fire didn't seem to be working.
But even though she poured her heart and soul into every swing of her sword, every punch, every kick, every shove; it wasn't enough.
Gasping for air, the muscles in her legs feeling like water, face flushed with a feverish glow, Buffy found herself weaponless, friendless and almost hopeless as she was pinned against the wall, and the cold metal of her own sword pressed against the flesh of her neck, drawing a thin red line of blood.
Knowing she was beaten, she could not help but struggle still but it contained her weakened struggles with abominable ease.
As her own sword was pulled back for the final blow, she made a dash for the exit but it grabbed her, spinning her around to meet the arc of the sword…
She knew not what happened next, and throughout all the long years of her life, she would never know what had truly happened but even as she threw her hands up to try to block the blow, she felt a… surge of something powerful fill the air and make the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. And even as she staggered back in shock at the sensation, she saw that the monster was inexplicably engulfed in flames, its shrieks echoing through the cavern as the unforgiving fire seared its flesh.
She was shocked but she did not waste her opportunity, and with scarcely a glance back at the strange spectacle, she raced out the cavern exit into the gaping darkness.
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But Buffy soon realised that though she may have escaped one foe, a more intangible one was waiting for its chance. She had run out of the cave into darkness, unrelieved pitch black darkness that not even her eyes could penetrate, and she had no sense of direction or any clue at all to where in the mines she now was.
What was worse though, was the echoing sound every noise made down here, and her footsteps sounded loud to her as she groped her way through what seemed to be a maze of twisting tunnels.
Her fear and panic mounting as she realised that she was hopelessly lost, she sat down on the cold ground and tried desperately to think of some way out of this mess.
Her senses registered evil, that she appeared to be right in the middle of, but the feeling was so spread across the mines that it offered her no help at all, save to incite more anguish and fear as she knew she was in no fit shape to take on anything much at the moment.
Trying to calm herself, and taking deep, steady breaths, she struggled to clamp down on the fear that threatened to overwhelm her and the pain that threatened to render her useless even to aid herself, but as she slowly succeeded in putting them out of her mind, something niggled at her from the very back of her brain.
Curious and desperate, she sought it out and with a start, realised that it was her long denied bond to Aragorn.
Bursting into a fit of most unslayerish hysterical laughter, she realised that the man that she had thought to die to save might just be the one that would now save her, however unwittingly.
Wherever Aragorn was, it was obviously not in the mines and if she knew Gandalf, she thought that he would lead them on to Lothlórien, to seek the aid of Lady Galadriel and the shelter and respite that would be available to the company in the Golden Wood.
Which meant that if she used her bond with Aragorn like a homing beacon, mayhap she stood a chance of escaping this nightmare after all.
And so, painfully getting to her feet, she soldiered on into the impenetrable darkness.
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Deep within the bowels of the Mines of Moria, 3019, TA, January 18.
A day later, Buffy was no longer so hopeful.
She had stumbled through the dark of Moria for a day at least, following the tentative sense that she could pick up on, and now she was exhausted, hungry, weary, wounded, and scared and she knew not how she was ever going to make it out of this hellhole. Or even if she would survive to make the attempt.
Her pack had been lost in her fight on the Bridge of Khazad-dûm, and she only had her torn cloak, her sword and her Mithril knife and vest in her possession. None of which were edible.
Thirst and hunger were silent killers, as deadly as any other foe, and even if she had the luck to stumble across a water source in the mines, she knew that it was not fit to drink.
A voice in the back of her mind that sounded suspiciously like Spike seemed to be laughing at her stubbornness, and gleefully insisting that she was going to die in this pit, alone and scared, like all slayers did.
She was resolutely trying to ignore that voice.
Her hands were her new form of sight, as they groped along the rough corridors and tunnels of Moria, relying solely on them and her other senses to make up for her lack of sight in this pitch dark environment.
She struggled on as best as she could, but all she felt like doing was curling into a ball and crying her eyes out. It wasn't typical slayer behaviour, but it was Buffy behaviour, and it took all her willpower not to indulge in huge bout of crying.
The only thing that prevented her was the knowledge that if she stopped for any reason now, chances were she would not be able to get back up again.
When she heard the first sounds of gurgling water, she thought that she was going crazy, but the further she went on, the louder the sound grew, she had to believe it. Moreover, she started to feel some real hope at last.
Water would mean that the Dwarves would have built a well nearby, and where there was a well, there had to be a way out.
Speeding up her pace to an almost reckless speed, considering the conditions, in her eagerness to find a way out, she missed the subtle warning signs that she would have noticed had she been more alert and less exhausted.
Even as she turned down a side tunnel and made it to the threshold of a large-ish cavern, she spotted the fierce yellow glows that took the form of pairs of eyes, and she gulped in sudden shock and fear.
Orcs.
She had walked in on a group of orcs.
Gee, wasn't she just so lucky? she swore, even as she started to back-pedal.
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Back-pedalling furiously, she raced back out the way she had come, and dove down the nearest tunnel, hearing the excited shrieks and the scuttling sounds of the orcs as they poured out of their shelter in pursuit of fresh meat.
Her legs feeling like jelly from exhaustion, she forced herself to run as fast as she was able, pushing her battered body to its limits even as she heard the orcs split up to search through the labyrinth of tunnels that they knew much better than she ever would.
Panting for breath even as she tried to stifle any noise she might make, she raced down passageways and corridors with no mind to where she was going; only thinking to put distance between herself and her pursuers.
Flagging from the offset, she kept up her pace for an hour ere she was forced to come to a halt.
Slumping against the wall that braced her, she took a much needed rest, gaping in air in big heaving breaths and fighting off the need to sleep that grew ever more insistent with every passing minute.
Sinking to the ground, she rested her head on her knees and gave into the urge to cry, caring nothing for the orcs on her trail, as frustration and exhaustion worked together to drive her into such a state where she could only futile wish that this wasn't happening to her.
She fervently wished that she had someone here to help her, but she could not begrudge the fellowship for leaving her behind. She hadn't expected to survive her fall, so why should they expect her to?
But even as tears spilled down her dirt-smudged cheeks, she had to admit that for once, she would like someone else to shoulder the responsibility and save her for a change.
And so, as the slayer thought on her friends, and her loved ones, and the tears came hard and fast until her eyes were swollen and red; she cried herself into a restless sleep with the faint cries of the orc hordes and the pounding drum beat echoing through her mind.
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Deep within the bowels of the Mines of Moria, 3019, TA, January 19.
After a few hours of fretful slumber, Buffy Summers woke to the feeling of something watching her.
As she came awake fully, she noticed a familiar feeling teasing her, and she shook her head in an attempt to clear it. It just could not be possible.
But it did not go away, and Buffy was left to wonder why she was sensing a vampire, when she knew perfectly well that she had left that particular race of demons behind her in her old world.
Standing up cautiously, she clutched her sword in her fist, and watched the darkness warily.
She felt a cold rush of fear as she heard the faint movement of something above her, and even as she snapped her head up to look, it was coming towards her.
Having clung to the ceiling, a skill which no vampire she knew had ever been able to do, it descended on the fresh blood she offered with supernatural speed.
Buffy immediately saw that there was nothing wooden about to ward off this new foe, and the glistening fangs and obvious bloodlust left her in no doubt as to what it was. Even if it did have these odd wing thingys and didn't resemble a human as much as her normal breed of vampires did. But then again, it had a fair resemblance to the Turuk-kon that had plagued her last year in dear ol' Sunnydale.
But she had expected it to be weaker than it was and it overpowered her defences with shocking ease. Her sword was knocked out of her hands and a powerful talon sliced through her tunic, only her Mithril shirt preventing her from being gutted, and even as she leaped and used the wall to bounce across the small corridor, away from the vampire.
Elrond had told her of the vampires of Morgoth, the winged messengers of the Dark Lord, but he had told her that they had died long ago with their master in the First Age. Then again, the same had been said for Balrogs.
Perhaps they decided to shack up together, Buffy mused, and use their combined scariness to ensure that all the orcs co-habiting with them knew who the real bosses were.
Of course, the Elvenlord had also told her that they had been greatly feared, and impossible to kill, which sucked.
She could barely make it out in the darkness, only her senses were capable of telling her where it was and luckily for her, its bright yellow eyes gave it away to her.
It charged and so did she, but it was not as weakened as she was, and its cold taloned hand gripped her by the throat, and squeezed, lifting her off her feet.
She kicked it in the stomach with fierce desperation, and it let go of her, causing her to drop to the floor. Lashing out with her leg, she swept its feet out from under it and as it fell, she hauled herself up.
A rapid flow of motion followed; Buffy punching it in the face as it got up, and then leaping into a roundhouse kick aimed at its chest, but it yanked her leg before it impacted and she fell onto her back as it leaped onto her.
She struggled even as she felt the vampire shudder at the scent of fresh blood, as the wound on her neck had reopened, but just as its fangs sank into her neck, and it started to drink greedily, her hands searched frantically for any weapon.
With a cry of relief, she felt her hand close around the cold handle of her Mithril knife and swinging it wildly, she stabbed it through the vampire's neck and even as its head reared up, its teeth tearing a jagged wound in her throat as they left it, but despite the excruciating pain she persevered and sliding the Mithril blade through muscle and bone, she decapitated the vampire and it turned to dust atop of her.
The Vampire Slayer had won for the final time.
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Deep within the bowels of the Mines of Moria, 3019, TA, January 20.
"Don't be so sure. You think you know. What's to come, what you are. You haven't even begun."
- The First Slayer as Tara, BtVS season four.
The slayer lay motionless, a cloud of dust covering her; her breathing laboured, blood pouring from the wound to her neck. Her skin felt cold, clammy and she could not summon enough energy to even try to stem the flow of blood and with sickening certainty, she knew that the vampire had torn an artery and so ensured that she would follow him in death soon after.
Even as she struggled to keep open her eyes, and failing, let them fall shut, she felt the presence of something intangible surround her, and she wondered idly was this how the slayer legacy was passed on.
"I have no name. I live in the action of death, the blood cry, the penetrating wound. I am destruction. Absolute… alone…" she heard a voice whisper in her ear, and the slight, but definitely there, touch to her hair, and she knew that her predecessor, the First Slayer had come to take another Chosen One from the world.
And though she had never been fond of this ancestor of hers, she was grateful that in the end, she was not facing death alone, as she had always feared.
Her breathing grew more laboured and she felt the presence encompass her.
Her chest rose, then fell, then rose again and then fell…
And then stopped.
And a voice whispered through the gloom, as its owner looked upon the dead slayer, "Your destiny still awaits…."
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A/N: Oh dear. Isn't someone in trouble? So? What do you think? Buffy is finally dead. How is this going to affect the story? All opinions welcome! Please READ and REVIEW!!!
Next chapter: the fellowship arrives into the haven of Lórien… Galadriel re-enters the story with a bang…. revelations… mourning… and surprises…
Elvish:
Peredhel - Half-Elven
Mithrandir - the Grey Pilgrim
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Aman - also called the Blessed Realm, Valinor or the Undying Lands. Home of the Elves in the West.
Caras Galadhon - City of the Trees. The city in Lothlórien where Galadriel and Celeborn reside.
Celebrían - Galadriel and Celeborn's daughter. Wife of Elrond. Mother to Elladan, Elrohir and Arwen. Sailed West in 2510 after being attacked by orcs in 2509.
Istari - the Maiar who were sent from Aman in the Third Age to resist Sauron. Sindarin: Ithryn.
Mithril - 'true-silver'. Also called 'Moria-silver'. It was the foundation of the wealth of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm. It was worth ten times the price of gold, and is now considered priceless, because there has been no supply of it since the fall of the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm in 1980 TA.
Moria - 'The Black Chasm', later name for the great works of the Dwarves under the Misty Mountains. Called Khazad-dûm in Dwarvish.
Morgoth - the Dark Lord of the First Age. A fallen Vala, he destroyed the Two Trees of Valinor, Laurelin and Telparion, and killed Fëanor's father, the King of the Noldor. He decimated the armies of the First Age until at last a host from Valinor came to Middle Earth, and waged war on him for forty years before he was thrown down. Is not dead but trapped in the Void.
Narya - the Ring of Fire. Set with a ruby stone. One of the Three Elven Rings. Originally given to Círdan, it was passed onto Gandalf when he arrived in Middle Earth during the Third Age.
Nenya - The Elven ring of Water. Galadriel is its Keeper.
Varda - greatest of the Queens of the Valar. She is the maker of the stars, and the wife of Manwë.
Vilya - the Ring of Air. Strongest of the three Elven Rings made by Celebrimbor. Borne by Elrond.
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