FIRST KNIGHT BY ASHA DREAMWEAVER

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

Summary: BtVS/LotR. Buffy is 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 has 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, which 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: Another milestone! The fiftieth chapter! Finally!

And I apologise for the horrendous delay but my exams are killing me. The teachers are piling on the work, and I actually have to study! (Which I hate doing) And then there is the grand ol' college debacle, on top of some personal problems, a cold, etc… You get the picture…. However, I will try my utmost to get chapter 51 out on time. The only problem is my exams start the week chapter 52 is due, so that is still up in the air. If 52 does not appear, you know that Real Life and the Dreaded Exams have interfered…. But never fear, once they are over, summer hols begin! Freedom and free time!

Also, ff dot net wouldn't let me update on Saturday, so this chapter was posted at TTH (in my bio) on Saturday.

Review responses:

Alliana Greenleaf Halliwe - thank you! Sadly, Boromir will not be able to do as you suggested.

Allen Pitt - Yes, but if he fell down the stairs, then he couldn't suffer and cause mayhem for the plotline could he? And Sauron has a LOT of tricks. Do try to guess.

Arcrose - thanks! And I do not think Buffy wants to flash the Ring of Barahir. Way too many complications there. And no, Aragorn is not running into Boromir anytime soon. And Arwen is up to… well, she is up to a lot. And sadly, the Witch-King is not that easy to get rid of…

Athene Saile - yes, I think by this point that even Gandalf is admitting that he is a renowned meddler! And with a nice big war to distract her, methinks Gandalf can keep Buffy oblivious until it is too late…

ChibiChibi - thank you! Boromir will appear soon, just not where you might think he is going to be. And yes, you are right. By this point, the Witch-King has a choice of blonde-haired women to kill him….

Clcountry - thanks! Sorry, no Scoobies, just an old villain.

Clint - thanks and welcome!

D347hbyp45510n - thanks! Yes, Éowyn will ride. And cannot tell you any more than that both Buffy and Éowyn will get their chance to bash the Witch-king. Pity him.

Devine-desire - wow! Thank you!

FallenAngelLindsay - No, she is going to post it under mine. But she has not finished a chapter yet. So…. Your guess is as good as mine…. And Arwen is in Dol Amroth. It's a coastal city of Gondor ruled by the Prince of Dol Amroth. Currently Prince Imrahil.

Fenn - Thanks! And it has been long established that I am very mean.

Lali-chan - thank you! And who wouldn't want to conspire against Denethor? Not the easiest guy to work for I would imagine! And let us just say that Gandalf has his own Plan. Remember, he was one of the matchmaker conspirators before the whole One Ring debacle!

Londaron of Erendaer - thanks! Yes, I think the Witch-King is definitely going to be in for a treat! Arwen could have sailed from anywhere down the coast. Boromir will show up soon. Hopefully somewhere unexpected. And yes, you are most certainly right. Sauron has something up his sleeve for the Pelennor. I cackle as I think about it and my muse is looking very smug….

Lunawolf - thanks! And I presume you meant the happy ending?

Mari - yes.

Murdock Ran - Only one, non-scoobie, villain for the sequel. None in the First Knight story.

Nessa Telemnar - hi and welcome! And thanks! And to answer your question, it was a vision of the possible future….

00MandaGirl - welcome and thanks! And it is nice to know that some of what I have written happens in real life and not just in my twisted mind…

Reyavie - thanks! And yes, Denethor's troubles are not over yet… and I can see why a statistics test makes you sadistic… I know the feeling well….

Ringo's Wildrose - Sorry, but I have never seen that show. And Arwen is cooking up quite a bit…

Selene - Soon!

ShawThang - thanks! Yes, Arwen and Lothíriel will help Boromir. But not exactly in anyway he had planned…

Siren's Call - thanks! An Elvish translator? Try the 'Sindarin dictionary'. You can download a whole dictionary of Elvish words. I do not know of anything that can translate sentences but it should get you started. Okay, to make the accents and characters, if you have Windows, use the character map. Select the letter you want and then paste it into your writing. Or you could just add it into Autocorrect in MS Word and Works so that it changes the word automatically as you type it. Hope that helps.

Tenshikoneko03 - thank you! And Faramir's fate on that matter is in this chapter so I will not spoil the surprise. And no, Denethor does not know that Buffy is in line to be Queen yet. At the moment, Arwen is still in Dol Amroth, but she will show up in a battle.

Tsuki no Yasha - thanks! Early birthday present? Why, is it your birthday? If so, happy birthday!

Voldemort8 - Okay, first of all, in my fic, the Rings are sundered from the One now. Sauron cannot do a thing to them anymore. And even before they were sundered, Sauron could only control them if he had the One Ring in his possession. And Sauron knows that the Elven Rings are free since the display at Helms Deep. He just cannot do anything much about it yet. Except send some assassins. And no one actually knows what the Three Rings powers were as because they were linked to the One, no one could use them. So I took creative liberties. And fire as a destruction is not Sauron's power. Fire can warm and protect and soothe. Sauron polluted water from the Morgul vale. Does not mean that Galadriel's Ring is a perversion of Elven morals? It is not the power itself but how you use it that defines whether it is good or evil. And Denethor hardly snapped just because of Faramir. That was just when he totally gave into it. It had probably been encroaching upon him since he started playing with the palantír with the link to Barad-dûr.

White-Witch-Sakura - thank you! And Aragorn will arrive during the Battle of the Pelennor fields.

Willow Spirit - thanks! Lothíriel has a minor part in this story but a very big part in the sequel! So I hope I can flesh her character out sufficiently, since basically all we get is a name from Tolkien.

And major thanks to:

ainu lote, Ally, Duo Maxwell, goldenshadows, green falcon, hermoine21, homiedude, Iriel, Jaguarmoon, jumping-jo, Lady Meridia, life in SHREDS, Light Spinner, loki2525, SalanTrong, The Lady Reaper of the Shadows, Wild320, XinnLajgin,

CHAPTER FIFTY: IN THE LINE OF FIRE

Osgiliath, Gondor, 3019 TA, March 14.

Osgiliath had fallen.

But even as they raced desperately towards the city, the sky was filled with the high pitched shrieks of the Nazgûl and they started to dart down between them, snatching men as they dived.

But what caused Buffy's blood to chill was not the Nazgûl, but the Black Captain. And as she looked above her, she saw the helmeted face, felt the powerful malice as it closed in on her.

The Witch-King had arrived….

And he was gunning for her….

Even as her horse reared in fear, Buffy knew that she had a limited amount of options.

Even from this distance, she could see a figure in white leaving the gates of the city and knew who it was - Gandalf. But if something did not happen soon, the Nazgûl would take a sizeable chunk of their forces before the wizard could reach them.

She had to do something.

She really did not want to tell Boromir how she let a Nazgûl run off with his little brother… Besides, it was way past time to inject a little fear into these blasted Ringwraiths. - Slayer style.

She needed to buy them some time. And fast. Ducking down in the saddle as a man went flying overhead, knocked off his mount by a Nazgûl, she knew that it had to be now….

As the Witch-King closed in on her, she let her mount run free, trusting that fear would keep it on a straight course for the city, and as the Nazgûl's sword swung, she dived, grabbing his arm and using it as leverage to swing up onto the flying monster. The Witch-King turned in surprise and then lowered the monster into a sharp dive, trying to dislodge her.

It nearly worked.

Slipping, she barely managed to stop her fall by grabbing its tail, dangling precariously in the air. Seeing the Witch-King reach for her, she yanked herself up, inch by inch, and firmly perched herself on the back of the swooping and diving beast, she drew her sword.

Nearly dropping it in shock as flames engulfed the metal, running from the hilt to the tip of the sword, she stared at the Witch-king to see if it was his doing. It so obviously was not. He was staring at it in anger as well. And with one cold glance, he pulled his own sword, cold flames running along it as well.

Buffy cursed as she ducked under that blade, but she was not stupid enough to try a headlong attack when she knew that upon contact with a Nazgûl, most blades shattered and then there was the Black Breath - very unpleasant - and most importantly of all, this was a millennia old once-king who had magic. She would not make the mistake of letting him goad her into an attack.

Instead, watched him come closer and when his hands left the reins to swing the blade, she drove her own deep into the hide of the monster just as a glowing light started to reach for them, growing blindingly bright the closer it got.

As she had expected, the beast bucked and rolled in pain as she twisted her sword within its flesh and both she and the Witch-King were unhorsed as it rolled over in mid-air. The flames of her sword extinguishing Buffy plummeted through the air, unable to see anything due to the glowing light that was driving the beast away, she had only a few seconds to realise that that might not have been the best of plans before she impacted.

But it was not the hard ground that stopped her fall but a strong set of arms grabbing her as she fell. Jerking in the grasp, Buffy opened her eyes to make out Faramir's face. Wordlessly, he gestured for her to clamber on the back of his mount.

Seeing Gandalf, with Pippin as a passenger, leading the Men of Gondor back to the city, his staff glowing, she knew things were well in hand. Twisting her head, she could vaguely make out a black form tumbling along the ground as the beast crashed into the ground and inwardly rejoiced at the Witch-King's crash landing.

Seeing their leader's fall, the other Nazgûl who had drew away when Gandalf's staff had emitted the blinding light, went to his aid and Gandalf ignored their efforts as they passed through the Rammas Echor.

As the Witch-king rose to his feet, staring at them menacingly, Buffy knew that they had not seen anything yet….

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Minas Tirith, Gondor, 3019 TA, March 14.

As the gate crashed shut behind them, Faramir drew rein to face Gandalf so abruptly that the unprepared Buffy had to thank her lucky stars for her impeccable balance. As the wizard noticed him, he made his way over, seeing the man's anxious face.

Sensing that an almighty catch up session was about to get underway, Buffy hopped down from his horse and tried to sidle off but Gandalf's voice stopped her in her tracks. "And where do you think you are going, Dagnir?" Gandalf said, Pippin standing behind the horse, goggling at her, "What was that stunt you pulled?"

She tried to look innocent, but Gandalf did not seem the slightest bit fooled, "Um, just being a distraction," she said hurriedly, "But hey! Faramir here has something to say, so let's listen to him, okay?"

The glare she received let her know that the wizard knew exactly what she was up to, but Faramir was very glad to see him again. "Mithrandir, your presence here is welcome indeed!" he exclaimed, looking worried, "They broke through our defences. It is not good. They have taken the bridge and the west bank. The main road is blocked but battalions of orcs are still crossing the river. It has begun, Mithrandir…"

Around them, the mutters of the other soldiers seemed to have the same despairing mood, murmuring about how Lord Denethor had predicted this dark day. Gandalf looked very irritated by the talk and Buffy had to admit that she was too. Denethor might be good at moaning but he certainly was not going to get anything remotely useful done.

"Well, you may as well scrap the idea that your father is going to do anything helpful," Buffy said to Faramir, "I was once a soldier of Gondor and now that Denethor's been stupid enough not to give the army any decent instructions at all, I'm planning on taking over. You got any disagreements? Because, no offence to you, but I'm not letting Denethor run the city into an early grave."

But Faramir made no reply to her words. Instead, he was staring at Pippin in shock. Gandalf looked at the man intently, "Faramir?" he said quietly, "This is not the first halfling to have crossed your path, is it?" he questioned him.

Faramir's eyes snapped up to look at the wizard, seeing him make the effort to keep this discussion as quiet as possible. Slowly, he shook his head, "It is not."

As Buffy and Gandalf processed the implications, Pippin perked up, a smile crossing his face, "You have seen Frodo and Sam?" he asked excitedly, ignoring Gandalf's glare.

Faramir nodded and Gandalf leaned forward in his saddle, pouncing upon the captain, "Where? When?" he demanded impatiently, the anxiety clear to see.

Faramir did not seem surprised at the urgency, "In Ithilien, not two days ago. Do not fear, I know what they carry." he said quietly, "And they carry it still." He paused. "But Mithrandir, they have taken the road to the Morgul Vale."

Buffy and Gandalf blanched and Pippin looked between the three of them in puzzlement. "And from there the pass of Cirith Ungol?" he asked, the dread evident in his voice.

"Cirith Ungol?" Buffy repeated, "Oh please tell me that they're not going to be spider chow."

Faramir confirmed it silently and Pippin, growing increasingly worried, spoke up, "What does that mean? What is wrong? Gandalf, what is going on?"

But Gandalf could not give him the answers he wanted to hear so instead, the wizard dismounted at the same time as the captain and grabbed him by the arm, "Faramir," he said urgently, "Tell me everything."

Buffy could only place a hand on Pippin's shoulder in silent comfort.

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In a secluded room, with the door barred by Pippin, the wizard, slayer and captain faced each other.

"How were they?" Gandalf demanded as soon as they had attained privacy.

Faramir looked at him, "We found them in Ithilien, during a raid on some Southrons. They had a skulking creature with them. Frodo said that he was in his service. We took them to Henneth Annûn, which was where we captured… Gollum. They admitted that they had known Boromir and I questioned them on his death. And then I found out that they carried the One Ring. My father would have wished for me to bring it to him, and I confess that I wavered. But they left Henneth Annûn on my orders, with supplies, and they told me that they were going to Cirith Ungol and that it was Gollum that was to guide them there."

"Gandalf, what about Shelob?" Buffy asked, "She is such a nice, friendly, man-eating spider after all. Does she eat hobbit?"

"I think she eats anything," Gandalf replied worriedly, "And they knew nothing of the dangers?"

"I tried to warn them of their path," Faramir answered, "But they said that they had already tried the Morannon, and the way was blocked. They knew of no other."

"The Morannon? They got that far?" Buffy asked, "Apparently, they are more resourceful than we thought."

Before Faramir could make a reply, a knock came to the door, and then a man stuck his head in, "Lord Faramir," he said, "Your father requests your presence immediately."

Faramir looked at them apologetically, and left. As soon as the door was closed, Buffy grabbed Gandalf's arm, "Come on, we have to go."

"Go?" Gandalf repeated, "Go where?"

"To see a prince."

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Dol Amroth, Gondor, 3019 TA, March 14.

Proper protocol and royal dignity be damned, Lothíriel fumed. She had never thought that Elves could be so… so… well, infuriating…. It was enough to have her grinding her teeth with the effort to keep playing charming hostess and not shake the information out of the she-Elf, who was enjoying the whole predicament way too much for her tastes.

First, the daughter of Elrond shows up on her doorstep in the middle of the night, then she lets slip that her cousin, Boromir, was in fact alive. A fact that she still had not received an explanation about. And then she had kept to herself since then, smiling that thrice damned cryptic smile until Lothíriel just wished that she could do… something to her.

It was enough to strain anyone's nerves. Her father, who had the highest respect for the Elven race, had always told her that the Eldar saw things mortals did not. But Lothíriel was sure that he had never to deal with an Elf who took such impish glee in vexing her. It was not to be borne. Add that to a rather worried Captain of the guards, who took delight in telling her that the Corsairs were raiding Gondor again, and that he feared the attack on the city of Minas Tirith was about to start, as well as a fussing lady-in-waiting, and a city full of people on edge, and 'twas safe to say that princess or no, Lothíriel's temper was frayed at best.

She deserved an explanation, not the same 'everything will become clear in time' nonsense that she had been getting recently. How was she to plan adequately when no one would tell her anything of use? Well, if Arwen Undómiel could be so bold as to flounce off around Middle Earth by herself, then Lothíriel of Dol Amroth could very well demand some answers.

Stalking into Arwen's room, she had the satisfaction of surprising the she-Elf, who seemed to be reading a letter of some sort. "Lady Arwen," she said silkily and saw the lady's eyes narrow in suspicion, "I truly do hope that you understand the predicament I am in," she began, eyes narrowed, "I do realise that most people will leave Elves to their own devices when they are plotting, but I have had enough of being kept in the dark. You cannot just march in here, demand hospitality and then tell me, calm as anything, that my dead cousin is suddenly not dead and still give me no reasons for it or proof of it. Now, at the moment, I care not who your father is, and so I say this to you, Lady Arwen, - tell me what madness is going on or I will have you thrown out of Dol Amroth. And with the Corsairs plaguing the coast, it would undoubtedly be an unpleasant experience."

For a moment, the Elleth simply stared at her and then she started laughing, a high tinkling laugh that had the swan princess trying not to grind her teeth together. "And what, pray tell, is so funny?" she said bitingly, one hand placed on her hip as grey eyes flashed in annoyance.

Arwen looked at her and calmed herself down, but she was still smiling in amusement, "Forgive me," she murmured, "But ai! 'Tis easy to see that you have a Wood Elf in your lineage! You have their temper Princess Lothíriel. I admit that I had wondered whether or not you would preserve decorum."

"How nice of you…." Lothíriel said stiffly, "But I do not know what relevance a Wood Elf has in this conversation. Are you going to explain yourself or not?"

Arwen looked at the fuming young woman, and knew that she could be trusted. She would have to introduce Lothíriel and Buffy to each other. No doubt they would take to each other like old friends. "Of course," she agreed, "Sit. It is a long explanation."

Lothíriel sat stiffly, looking at the Evenstar expectantly. Arwen held back a sigh as she pondered where to start. "I confess that I do not know where to begin," she said, "Perhaps if you asked your most pressing question, we could start from there?"

The princess did not hesitate, "What do you mean when you say that Boromir is alive? We had reports from the capital that they had found proof of his fall."

"You could say that Boromir owes his life to a valiant Dwarf and a lady." Arwen explained, "Boromir was camped at Parth Galen with several others when Uruk-hai attacked. He defended two of his companions but the numbers of the enemy were too great. He was pierced with an arrow and fell over the cliff into the Falls of Rauros. It was a near miracle that he survived the fall but two of his companions - the Dwarf and the lady - rescued him from the water and knowing that the Enemy hunted him, sent him back to my grandmother's wood of Lothlórien to see to his wounds. They let the others in the group believe he was dead to ensure his safety."

Lothíriel blinked, "They faked his death?" she repeated incredulously, "And I know the race of Dwarves is hearty, but Boromir was no small man. If he fell into Rauros, then not even a woman and a Dwarf together could have pulled him out against the current."

"In normal circumstances, aye," Arwen said, "But the lady was no ordinary woman. She is a trained warrior and she dragged your cousin to safety."

Lothíriel was still dubious, "And yet you are careful not to refer to her by name," she said pointedly, "If the tale is truth, then why hide the identity of his saviour?"

"Her name is not a problem for me to tell you," Arwen replied, "In fact, she is part of the reason I am come here." The Evenstar rose and crossed the room to her light pack and after a moment, pulled out a bolt of cloth, rolled and bound.

Unfolding it, she turned it so that Lothíriel could see the dark cloth, embroidered with a golden sun, in what looked to be thread of gold. It was beautifully rendered but what caught Lothíriel's eye was the image of a flowering tree done in silver underneath. She knew that symbol, though she was used to seeing it in white. 'Twas the White Tree of Gondor…. The symbol of the long dead Kings and their families….

"Where did you get that!" Lothíriel demanded, rising to her feet, "That is the White Tree! No one uses that symbol anymore!"

"But they do," Arwen said firmly, her eyes pinning Lothíriel's gaze to hers, "Long has my family guarded and fostered the heirs of Isildur, since the North Kingdom fell. And there is one who comes to claim the throne, the true King of Gondor."

The swan princess gaped, "But the line of kings is dead!" she exclaimed.

"Hidden, but never dead," Arwen explained, "The line passed down from father to son in a direct line. There is one heir left, a good man. And he comes. I know him well, he was my foster brother. I assure you it is quite true. But he will not come for a while yet, we have a few days. And I would rather enlighten you about someone else, than Aragorn, son of Arathorn, for now. You will have time to learn of him. Aragorn's lady, the one for whom this banner was made and the one who fished your cousin from the water, now resides in Minas Tirith to help with the defence of the city. Her name is Buffy and I have come to help both her and your cousins."

Lothíriel placed a hand to her suddenly aching head, "Let me understand this. You say that a king is returning to the throne of Gondor and that his lady, the future Queen, is in the city that is about to be battered relentlessly by the Dark Lord's forces until it falls?"

Arwen gave her a small smile, "That would be the brief version, yes."

"By the stars!" Lothíriel groaned, "And do I have your word that what you have told me is true?"

"I swear on my grandfather's star that I have not told you a word untrue." Arwen said quietly.

Lothíriel sat down heavily, "And what has Boromir to do with this?" she asked, having recovered some of her composure.

"He will be pivotal in the defence of the city," Arwen said strongly, "Once he knows what he is to do anyway. As does his brother. But that is in the future and I cannot say much of it for fear of the consequences. However, I would ask your help and your discretion."

As Lothíriel pondered her words, Arwen felt that familiar flash of foresight. Apparently, Lothíriel's temper would be fearsome indeed. Pushing the flash out of her head, she listened as Lothíriel answered.

"You have what help I can give, Arwen Undómiel," she said slowly, "But I demand to know the details of this plan."

Arwen smiled with hidden relief, she really had not fancied such an undignified leave-taking of Dol Amroth. "Then let us talk of plans…" she said and began the discussion that would enthral them both…

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"You would conspire behind my back with those two traitors?" Denethor said with cold fury, eyeing his youngest son, "Have you no loyalty?"

"They wish only to help Gondor," Faramir said levelly, "We are not so secure of victory as to turn away help. Whatever personal differences you have, you must acknowledge that they could do much against the coming invasion."

"Do much?" Denethor barked, laughing coldly, "Ah yes, I would imagine so. They would do much to supplant me with a pretender, to give the throne to some wild man from the north. Yes, they would do much and none of it good."

"It is not our charge to ignore the coming of one with a claim," Faramir said, "The stewards swore to serve the city in this way."

"Did they not also swear to safeguard it?" Denethor said, "And yet, my son, my own flesh and blood, has the chance to hold victory in our grasp and lets it slip away."

Faramir looked at him in startlement. "Ah, did that wizard tell you to keep this knowledge to yourself? Away from even your own lord?" Denethor said sharply, "Do not think I do not see. I see everything…. How could you let the Ring slip out of my grasp? The One Ring… the thing that would have turned the tide in our favour. And yet you brought me no boon, only news that Osgiliath has fallen due to your incompetence. This is how you would serve your city? You would risk its utter ruin?"

Faramir eyed his father warily but held his ground, "I did what I judged to be right." he said quietly, offering no excuse for his actions. He would stand by his choice.

Denethor looked at him in contempt, "What you judged to be right…" he repeated scornfully, "Long have I wondered if you had any wits at all, and this judgement proves that you have none at all! You have sent the Ring of Power into Mordor, in the hands of a witless halfling! What fool would think they had any chance of keeping it away from the Dark Lord? And yet, you let them go. It was within your power to take it and you let them go…. It should have been brought back to the citadel to be kept safe! Hidden from all in the dark and deep places of the vaults. Not to be used. Unless at the uttermost end of need."

Faramir did not flinch under the endless criticism and scorn, "I would not use the Ring." he said firmly, "Not if Minas Tirith were falling in ruin and I alone could save her. Its only purpose is destruction and darkness. If it had been used to save Minas Tirith, you would have seen her crash around your ears as the Ring's power corrupted everything. The old records confirm this. It drove Isildur to his death. It will do the same to any other."

Denethor looked at him coldly; "Ever you desire to appear lordly and gracious, as a king of old." he scoffed, eyes boring into his son's, "Boromir would have remembered his father's need. He would have brought me a kingly gift... But then, he was always your better."

Faramir hid the hurt the words caused him, and shook his head slowly, remembering Sam's words. 'The Ring drove your brother mad!' No, Boromir would not. For its claim on him had already caused his death. "Boromir would not have brought the Ring." Faramir said softly, "He would have stretched out his hand to this thing and taken it. And in doing so, he would have fallen. Just like everyone else who tried to have it for their own."

Denethor glared at him, "You know nothing of this matter." he spat, "You always put too much weight in the words of wizards and never bothered to see the reality. It is only a ruse so that no man grows more powerful than they."

Faramir did not falter, "He would have kept it for his own. And when he returned, you would not have known your own son. He would have been lost to you, at your own whim."

Denethor would hear no more slander against his favourite son and he stood up in rage, advancing on Faramir. "Boromir was loyal to me! Not some wizard's pupil!"

For a moment, it seemed as if he would strike him, but then he subsided and settled for snarling at Faramir. "Get out of my sight," the steward spat at last, "You disgust me."

Silently, the captain left, leaving the steward to sink back in his chair and lust for what should have been.

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As Faramir was being verbally abused by Denethor in the citadel, Buffy, Gandalf, Imrahil and Pippin were discussing plans. Or rather, three were discussing and Pippin was watching.

Imrahil had no good news for them. "While you were gone, we received troubling news. It goes very ill," he explained to the slayer and the wizard, "While you were in Osgiliath and Gandalf was… indisposed, a messenger came with news of Cair Andros." He said, pointing out its position on the map, "The isle has fallen. Another army is come from the Black Gate, crossing from the northeast. The Enemy has us pinned in. I do not see how Rohan could come even if they were asked."

Gandalf waved a hand in dismissal, "Do not fear Imrahil, they will come," he said, "The only question is will they be in time?"

"They won't," Buffy said, "It'll take Éomer a while to muster his riders and then days to get here, even if they ride through the night. They will not be in time. Sauron's forces are already overrunning Osgiliath. They'll fill the Pelennor and block the city off, from either escape or rescue."

"But Denethor has not asked for their aid," Imrahil said in puzzlement, "How do they know to come? We recently received word that Théoden King had had a battle against Saruman at Helms Deep. Though whether it was won or lost I have not heard."

"Well, it was won but Théoden King died there," Buffy said quietly, "His nephew, Éomer, is the new king. And let's just say that they were asked very nicely by a wizard and a ranger. After all, if we left it to Denethor, he just might call for them in a hundred years or so."

"This is all well and good," Gandalf harrumphed in what Buffy liked to call pipeweed withdrawal crankiness, "But we have a city to defend. Rohan will come. Let us ensure that Minas Tirith is still standing when they get here."

"We have not the numbers to meet the Enemy," Imrahil said, "Our only hope is to last out the siege until help comes or we can fight no more."

"Well, that's cheerful," Buffy said, "But then again, this isn't exactly a great situation. Basically, we have got an army coming against us that you estimate is well over a hundred thousand strong, which is bad in of itself, but the re-emergence of the Corsairs has drawn off all the help you expected from the fiefdoms. Again, very bad. Next, we have the Nazgûl on our doorstep, led by the charming Witch-King, who seems the type to bear a grudge. And to top it all off, Denethor has nothing prepared for the war, siege or battle of any description and since the orcs are already coming across the river at Osgiliath, we are running out of time. That about sum it up?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Imrahil said wryly.

"I'm open to suggestions people," Buffy said, looking between the wizard, man and hobbit. "Because as nice as those catapults are, I don't think they are going to be anywhere near enough."

Imrahil looked at her appraisingly, "Station the men as you see fit," he said after a moment, "Sauron expects us to use our traditional methods. But somehow, I do not think he could expect you. I heard how you handled the Witch-king…."

"Is that your way of telling me that I'm unpredictable or crazy?" Buffy asked, only mildly offended.

"Both," he replied causing both hobbit and wizard to snigger.

She glared at the duo, "Fine, crazy it is then." She looked at the chortling wizard, "I'll go to the garrison, find the captain of this mess, and try to station the men without Denethor interfering. On that note, feel free to club him if he's being uncooperative, disruptive, annoying or all of the above."

She made to leave but Imrahil called her name and stopped her in her tracks. "Wait!" he said, opening the door and gesturing at two Citadel guards outside it, who stood to attention at his appearance, "These soldiers will watch your back, milady."

Buffy got that familiar sinking feeling in her stomach, and her narrowed eyes shot between Gandalf and Imrahil, "Milady?" she repeated, "Watch my back? Who put you up to this?" she demanded.

Imrahil's eyes flickered towards Gandalf for the barest of seconds. Gritting her teeth, she glared at the wizard. What was he up to now? "What did he say to you?" she asked Imrahil, in a voice filled with warning.

"He told me of your connection to Lord Aragorn, lady," Imrahil replied, "After that, I knew I could not let you wander around the city without some guard. It would not be proper."

"Well, I never did give a damn about proper," Buffy ground out, "And from now on, you get your information from me, not some meddling wizard who is very soon going to lose his beard if I have any say in it."

Pippin goggled at the scene, "Buffy and…. Aragorn?" he said, after listening to the surreal conversation, "I knew it!" he exclaimed, causing Buffy's molten glare to transfer to him. "Oh Sam owes me a bag of Longbottom leaf now!" he crowed.

Gandalf just smirked, "It would seem, that on this count at least, Dagnir, you lose."

As Buffy stalked out the door, she pointed a finger at the smug Istar, and said deadly serious, "I am going to get you back for this you know. And I spent time with Legolas and the twins!"

His only response was laughter.

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Faramir held himself still as the young hobbit swore fealty to his father. However, the dark gaze of the steward landed on him often, even if he tried to ignore it.

And then, as he had expected, Denethor pounced, "I do not think we should so lightly abandon the outer defences." he said testingly, "Defences that your brother long held intact." There was no mistaking the censure in the tone.

But Faramir forced himself not to react. Years of dealing with his father's barbs enabled him to look impassive. "Then what would you have me do, my lord?" he asked.

Denethor's glare tried to bore through him, but its intensity lay in madness and hate, "I will not yield the river and Pelennor unfought. Osgiliath must be retaken." he said. "I will not yield anything to Mordor!"

Faramir blinked rapidly. Surely his father was not suggesting what he thought he was… "My Lord," he said carefully, "Osgiliath is overrun. It cannot be reclaimed now."

Denethor would not be swayed, "Much must be risked in war. Is there a captain here who still has the courage to do his lord's will? Or are you as much of a coward as I have always suspected? If Boromir were here, Osgiliath would still be mine."

Faramir reeled under the unmasked venom in his father's voice and expression. And suddenly what he had always feared but never voiced was confirmed. "You wish now that our places had been exchanged." he said, voice breaking, "That I had died and Boromir had lived."

Denethor was impassive in the face of his younger son's pain, "Yes, I wish that." he said harshly, "The one I love dies and the failure is all that remains. Who would not wish that?"

Faramir suppressed his own pain, unwilling to show any more weakness in front of this man who suddenly seemed a stranger, and knew what he had to do, what he had been commanded to do. "Since you are robbed of Boromir, I will do what I can in his stead."

"You could never fill his place," Denethor said callously, "But mayhap, you might do one thing right for a change."

Faramir bowed and made to leave, hurt at his father's knowing rejection burning fiercely, "If I should return, think better of me, father…." he said in parting.

Denethor just looked at him, as cold and immovable as ice, and there was nothing but hate in his eyes, "That will depend on the manner of your return."

Straightening his back, Faramir left and did not look back.

There was nothing left for him there anymore.

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Naturally, when Buffy first got wind of Denethor's mad idea, she immediately headed to Faramir's quarters, where he was readying himself for the insane excursion his father had commanded. From the expressions of the two very unwelcome solders tailing her, they did not particularly like the steward's latest escapade either.

Barging into the man's quarters, she neatly barred the entrance with the for once useful soldiers and then stomped up to the wary Faramir. "What do you think you are playing at?" she demanded, jabbing the point of her finger into his chest, "This whole idea is suicide! Are you really going to just go out there and die because he told you to?"

"Is that not what soldiers do when their lords command them so?" Faramir replied steadily, "Where does my allegiance lie, if not here? This is the city of the Men of Númenor. I would gladly give my life to defend her beauty, her memory, and her wisdom."

"That's touching, really," Buffy said, determined to sway him from this course, "But Denethor is mad. It is one thing to die for something worthwhile. It is quite another to die for nothing. Trust me, I so know that. If you go out there, what in the name of Udûn do you think you are going to accomplish? They outnumber you by how many thousand to one? Look, if it's Minas Tirith that you want to protect, fine, I'm okay with that. But if you think you can do it by going out on this insane charge, you're wrong. You're only going to get yourself and your men killed. Is that what you want?"

"I am honour bound to do as I am bid," Faramir said, voice and expression stony. "I have my orders and I will follow them. To whatever end."

"Then why didn't you give Denethor the One Ring, Faramir?" Buffy asked pointedly, "Why did you ignore your father's desires then? Because you could not trust him to do what was right. Do you really think that your death is going to be helpful? This city is going to come under siege and it needs every able bodied person, let alone captains, to make sure that the orcs stay outside of these walls. I know that your father is an ass, and that he thinks you never measured up. But do you really think Boromir would have acted this insane either? Stop feeling the hurt of his words, and start thinking clearly. Do not throw away your life so rashly! Come to your senses and see what really has to be done, not what he says has to be done."

"It is not your decision."

"Do not even think of playing that card with me, Faramir," Buffy said sharply, "You think I don't have authority. Imrahil seems to think otherwise. You are not riding off to Osgiliath. The city is lost. Do not throw away your life on a lost cause. You saw what the situation was. We were lucky to escape once. You go in again, and you are going to die. Probably painfully."

"I will not hide from my fate," the man replied firmly, "I cannot do that."

"Eru! No one is asking you to hide!" Buffy exclaimed in exasperation, "I'm only asking you to use your head and see that you're needed here. Do not make me kick your ass. 'Cos if I have to get you thrown in the dungeons to save your life, I will. Don't think otherwise."

He looked into the hard hazel eyes, and knew that she meant every word she said. Reluctantly, he nodded. "As you command, lady." he said, causing her to sigh in relief, "I will, however, check on the Rammas Echor. The men have been pulled back from it and I want to know how much time we have before they take the Pelennor."

Buffy looked out of the windows, her sharp sight seeing the faint shapes of the massive combat and siege towers being pushed across from Osgiliath. They did not have much time, she knew.

However, it was a better idea than leaving go on a suicide charge. "Okay, agreed." she relented, "But reconnaissance only. I will kick your ass if I hear of any stupid unnecessary heroism. Got it?"

"Perfectly," he replied, keeping a straight face and grabbing his saddle pack, he left the room, the men on the doors leaving him pass.

Buffy looked out the window once more, and suppressed a faint shudder.

She could already hear the drums….

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Dunharrow, Rohan, 3019 TA, March 14.

Though he was no stranger to campaigns of war, the Dunlendings always being a threat to the Riddermark, the sight of the many hundreds of tents, filled with riders come at his bidding, sent the first frisson of fear down Éomer's spine.

He did not ridicule himself for it. The man who felt no fear at the battle of the age was a fool indeed. Composing himself, he saw one of his captains waiting for him. "Grimbold," he greeted, "How many?" he asked.

"I bring five hundred Men from the Westfold, my Lord." the man answered. Éomer suppressed a grimace. Only five hundred from the Westfold. He had expected four times that number.

"What about the riders from Snowbourn?" he asked, hoping for a better answer.

"None have come, my Lord." Grimbold replied. Éomer wondered where they could be, and if anything had happened to them that he had not yet heard of. Beside him, Aragorn seemed to be thinking much the same.

From captain to captain, he went, getting numbers and estimates. And when he had them gathered, he talked to Aragorn, valuing the older man's experience.

"Only six thousand spears have come," he said, "'Tis less than half of what I had hoped for."

Aragorn's gaze met his unflinchingly, though his mood had been dark since Buffy's departure, "Six thousand will not be enough to break the lines of Mordor." he said levelly, judging Éomer's reaction.

The new king nodded. He had already known that. "More will come." he said with hope, "And if not, six thousand will have to break through."

Aragorn nodded solemnly, "We must make speed," he said, "Every hour lost hastens Gondor's defeat. We have until dawn, and then we must ride. Or else Gondor is lost."

"I had hoped for the full Éoherë," Éomer admitted, "But with time so short, it will be nigh on impossible. The Oath of Eorl will be honoured, Aragorn. We do this for both our lands. And hope that it is enough."

Before Aragorn could reply, Gamling came up to his liege, "My lord," he said, "Haldir of Lórien has been sent back to Dwimordene, with a small escort of his own people. They would not stay in the shadow of the mountain."

"Think you that his own people will be able to help with his affliction?" Éomer asked curiously.

"Lady Galadriel is one of the most talented of the Elves on this side of the Sundering Sea," Aragorn replied, "But no Elf on these shores can repair the damage to his arm. It was simply too great."

"I am saddened to hear it," Éomer said sincerely, "He came when he did not have to and he fought valiantly. But why would they not stay in the shadow of the Dimholt? I have not seen it discomfort Legolas and thought that Elves did not fear it like mortal men."

"Legolas's home is Mirkwood," Aragorn explained quietly, "And Dol Guldur has been a thorn in its side for many centuries. He fears no ghosts of men." As Aragorn spoke, he could have sworn that he saw green smoke-lie shadows around the entrance, the door into the mountain, and he stared at it.

Éomer followed his gaze but saw nothing out of the ordinary, "Aragorn?" he said with concern, "Are you well?"

Aragorn dragged his gaze away from the mountain, "Aye, I am fine, Éomer," he replied. But as the young king drifted away to check on his sister, Aragorn could have sworn that he heard a voice echo in his mind, from the mountain. 'Who shall pass the Door to the Paths of the Dead?…. Do you dare?….'

Spine stiffening, he turned away from the mountain and so failed to see the wisps of hazy green smoke reappear….

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A/N: So? What do you think! Feedback please! Please READ and REVIEW!

Next chapter: Aragorn meets some interfering relations…. And some rather unwelcoming ghosts… Éowyn's Plan is in action… and so is Galadriel's…. And we catch up with Boromir….

Elvish:

Undómiel - Evenstar

Elleth - she-Elf

Dagnir - slayer

Mithrandir - Grey Pilgrim

Istar - wizard

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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 Amroth - the royalty of Dol Amroth are believed to have an Elven foremother in their line. Stronghold of Gondor on Belfalas, named after Amroth King of Lórien (deceased.).

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.

Dunharrow - Fortified refuge in the Ered Nimrais. It is the mountain refuge of the people of Rohan. And the entrance to the Paths of the Dead is there.

Dwimordene - the name in Rohan for the Golden Wood of Lothlórien. It has generally been villainised by superstition, old wives' and soldiers' tales of the Lady who dwells there, and how she weaves her spells with sorcerers and net-weavers. All completely untrue, but none of the Rohirrim have ever gone near the Wood and they fear it.

Eärendil - Elrond's father. Now sails the sky with a Silmaril. Can be seen as a star in Middle Earth.

Éoherë - term used by the Rohirrim for the full muster of their cavalry.

Henneth Annûn - 'Window of the Sunset'. name of a cave behind a waterfall in Ithilien.

House of Eorl - the House of the Kings of Rohan. Named after Eorl the Young who first settled in Rohan, and was their first leader.

Imrahil - Prince of Dol Amroth at the time of the War of the Ring. The line of the Princes of Dol Amroth is said to be of Elvish descent, a foremother being a Silvan Elf and a handmaiden of the Elleth Nimrodel of Lórien. Father of Lothíriel. Denethor's brother-in-law. Uncle to Faramir and Boromir.

Istari - the Maiar who were sent from Aman in the Third Age to resist Sauron. Sindarin: Ithryn.

Ithilien - territory of Gondor, east of Anduin. In the earliest time the possession of Isildur and ruled from Minas Ithil.

Lothíriel - daughter of Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth.

Morannon - The Black Gate of Mordor.

Meduseld - the Golden Hall of Edoras, in Rohan. The residence of the King and the court.

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.

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.

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.

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

Palantír - one of the seven seeing stones that were scattered throughout Gondor and Arnor during the reign of Elendil. For the last few centuries, they have been considered unsafe to use as it is believed that one of them is in the possession of Sauron.

Parth Galen - 'Green Sward'.

Pelennor fields - 'Fenced Land'. The 'town lands' of Minas Tirith. Guarded by the wall of Rammas Echor.

Rammas Echor - out-wall. For ten leagues or so it ran, from the mountains' feet and back again, enclosing in its fence the fields of the Pelennor.

Ring of Barahir - Heirloom of the House of Isildur.

The Citadel - the High Court. The Place of the Fountain beneath the feet of the White Tower.

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