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: Sorry about the delay, but my internet connection decided it was time to play up!
Review responses:
Allen Pitt - yes, it is a very big stroke of luck that Denethor doesn't know about Frodo's mission. Or that Faramir didn't tell his father that the Pass of Cirith Ungol was their route. Otherwise, methinks Sauron would get his little trinket back fairly snappy.
Arcrose - Thanks! And yes, Buffy is back in this chapter! I think I've got a bit of most people. And don't think things will work out yet. You have no idea what my muse has cooked up! Just a friendly warning….
Belligerent-road-pylon - but what about Denethor? I think the salmon should be used on him!
Dedanaan - hi! Thanks and welcome! Oh I may be Irish, but I hate the Irish language. Along with about the 90 of Irish people who can't speak it fluently. Thanks for the review!
Devine-desire - thank you! And yes, I'm not sick. All clear on that front. And no, Denethor will never ever learn….
EoSpHoRuS - well, the twins are sticking around for the foreseeable future!
EverAfter-01 - you do realise that Romeo and Juliet die in the end, right?
Lady Meridia - sorry, can't say. As for the Balrogs, Sauron's master in the First Age, - Morgoth - created them from the spirits of Maiar. I imagine he had quite the supply. And can't elaborate on Nenya yet. Poor Galadriel really isn't anywhere near finished yet!
Lali-chan - Definitely wishful thinking. And yes, I think the Mischief gene runs through the Peredhel line, along with the Get Into Trouble gene! Torture you? Whatever gave you that idea?…. Yes, fear for Faramir. The poor man has no idea what is in store for him. (Cackles merrily) Don't worry, Denethor will get his soon. Just be patient. And the ending he gets is probably the one he deserves.
Light Spinner - alas for Galadriel…. That was only the first wave… and Arwen's plan becomes a bit clearer in this chapter! And Buffy is back too!
Liit06 - thank you! And yes, the scene where Boromir figuratively comes back from the dead should be most… interesting…. And don't always trust what Denethor thinks may happen …. I know it may have seemed one way, but that doesn't mean he is seeing it the right way… and about 'A Light To You…', some other author actually volunteered to finish it, as I'm not going to and then disappeared…
Mari - I am afraid that you have to guess! And why pick only one? Feel sorry for them both! And as for school, you have my deepest sympathies!
Pamie884 - thanks! And more Boromir in this chapter!
Reyavie - still in exams? You poor thing!
silvermoon-starchild - welcome and thanks!
Sparky24 - thanks! And the Battle of the Pelennor Fields is starting, yes.
Tenshikoneko03 - and which way is that? Because I already got his big finale planned out! And well, I think I actually cobbled bits from both the movie and the book. So I could use literally anything out of the LotR-verse…. And you had to ask, didn't you? I always find trouble to pull from anywhere! And again, Arwen is sister to the twins. She is obviously not totally sane!
The Great and Powerful Oz - He has already spilled the beans so it's a bit late in the day for that now. However, don't worry; what goes around comes around…
Vkky - the update is here! And I hear withdrawal symptoms can be painful.
XinnLajgin - when do I ever give Aragorn a break? Éowyn does appear in this chapter but not her glory moment. Yet. And yes, the Pelennor is going to be an utter disaster….
And major thanks to:
AidanPryde, Dagnir, Dreamzone, goldenshadows, Lunawolf, Selene, Sukera, The Lady Reaper of the Shadows, Wild320,
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO: SHADOW'S STRIKE
"'Tis madness and the rule of mind distraught,
Since she beheld her city sink in fire,
And hither comes, nor brooks the bit, until
In foam and blood her wrath be champed away."
- Aeschylus, "Agamemnon".
Rohirrim camp, 3019 TA, March 15.
They had found a stealthy place to hide and rest amongst the masses of Riders. Merry's height was hard to disguise and Éowyn did not want Éomer to see her, because he would not turn a blind eye. She knew that several of the Riders had recognised her and her companion, yet kept their peace. She knew that Éomer would send her home without delay if he knew she was here but it pained her not to be able to join him and take heart in each other's company.
Still, she had Merry, who was unfailingly charming, despite being jostled on her mount for most of the day.
But he did seem more sad than she had ever seen him, and to take her mind off her own sorrows, she sought to comfort him. "Take heart, Merry. It will soon be over. You must not despair now."
Merry looked at her, eyes devoid of the usual mischievous sparkle and shoulders slumped, "I merely miss my friends," he said after a moment, "Sam and Frodo are out there as Middle Earth's hope. Who knows what has happened to them? And Pippin…. He has gone to Minas Tirith and everyone says that it will take a miracle to save the city. I do not even know if he is safe. But I am here, safe, in the middle of a camp of soldiers. And I know that it is too late to turn aside but what can I do? I am only a hobbit, not some great lord of Rohan, capable of great deeds. I know I cannot save Middle Earth. I just wanted to help my friends. But here I am, and I have never felt so useless. Even when Gandalf and Buffy fell, I could cheer my friends up. But what can I even hope to do now?"
She took his hands in hers and looked at him earnestly, "You will see them again, Merry," she said softly, "And I do not think you should disparage yourself so. Look at you! You have ridden to war against your lord's wishes, and you have not quailed at the task is before us. You have more heart than ten men, Meriadoc Brandybuck. Do not give up on yourself now. I know that one person may seem insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but maybe we are here because we can make a difference…. We have to hope Merry. Else what are we here for?"
"Do you think we can do it?" Merry asked, "Do you really think we can win?"
She thought of lying but knew that she could not do that to him, "Lord Aragorn said that we did not number enough to break the lines of Mordor," she said quietly, blue eyes earnest, "But we go anyway. Because if we do not, then we give up on ever being free again. And I would rather die with honour fighting for my country and my freedom, than die under the Dark Lord's yoke. If Gondor falls, none of us shall stand long for Rohan will go down with her. But this is my choice, to fight 'til my last breath, whatever the end."
"You are both brave and fair, my lady," Merry said with wonder, "There are enough who would cower under their beds when faced with such a choice. But if you should fall, won't that mean that Rohan does not have a King or Queen?"
She smiled, a thin bloodless smile, "If Rohan's current King falls, then I should be a Queen, only to see my land overrun with the servants of Sauron, burning and pillaging the once fair lands. I could not stand that. There is no other choice, my friend. To have a future, we must win. It is as simple as that."
He considered her words, and she could almost see him taking them to heart, as a kindle of fire flared in his eyes once more, but he got no chance to reply. Nearby, a soldier called out the message, "Prepare to move out!" he bellowed, "We ride through the night!"
Éowyn stood up, giving her hand to Merry to help him up, "So, are you ready to fight Master Hobbit?" she asked teasingly.
He gave her a small smile, "Your words have cheered me, my lady. You are right. It is time to make a stand. Even if I have to be the only hobbit on the Pelennor." He adjusted his helmet as Éowyn boosted him up onto the horse. "To battle?" he said with a reckless grin, even as the horns blew throughout the camp.
She swung up behind him, taking the reins and matched his smile, "To battle!" she said and then urged the horse into a canter.
They had a war to fight after all.
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The Paths of the Dead, 3019 TA, March 15.
After some minutes of bolstering his wearied and defeated spirit, Aragorn slowly stood up and straightened his shoulders. He could not think how they could defeat the Corsair fleet with just over thirty men, but he knew that if he did not at least make an attempt, Gondor would fall. And from there, so would the rest of Middle Earth.
"Come," he said, voice hoarse after the dust, causing some of them to look at him in surprise, but his brothers and his fellowship companions nodded in understanding, "They may have foresworn their oath but we have not. Gather as many horses as can be found. We ride for Pelargir."
Gently stroking Hasufel to sooth the still nervous beast, he checked the horse over for any injuries and was preparing to mount when Legolas's surprised voice called out to him, "Aragorn! Look!"
Turning around, half expecting to see some other omen of trouble, Aragorn's eyes widened when he saw the King of the Dead hovering outside the half collapsed entrance to the Paths of the Dead. For a moment, all was silence, but then Aragorn saw the tall, black stone of Erech in the distance and knew what he had to do. "Why have you come?" he demanded softly.
The ghost stared back at him with no signs of remorse, "Do we have your solemn word that if we fight, that brings an end to this? That if we fight for you now, you will release us?"
Aragorn held his gaze, "I give you my word," he said softly but firmly, "Fight for me and I will release you when the battle is done."
The ghost nodded, "Then we shall fulfil our oath and thus have peace at last." He grinned then, a feral grin that unnerved Aragorn, "We fight."
Aragorn was suddenly aware, even as the horses spooked again, that the ghosts were gathering about them, - a flickering wall of spectres, all come to fight. Surveying them, he imagined how long the Corsairs would last against that which could not be killed and then grinned back, "Then the hour is come at last." he said formally, "Now I go to Pelargir upon Anduin, and you shall follow. And when all this land is clean of the servants of Sauron, I will hold the oath fulfilled, and you shall have peace and depart forever. For I am Elessar, Isildur's heir of Gondor and I give you my word. Fight for me, and I shall free you. Do you agree?"
The ghosts nodded and an echoing 'aye!' rose all about them. Nodding to the unsettled rangers, the nervous Dwarf and the smirking Elves, he mounted Hasufel. And moving to the head of the column of men, he urged the mount into a canter that the others followed, with the ghosts of the oath breakers following them like an army of shadows.
His army of shadows.
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Pelargir, Gondor, 3019 TA, March 15.
They rode with haste and before the afternoon sun waned, they had arrived at the city of Pelargir. Often had it been plagued by the threat of the Corsairs and their infamous black fleet but as Aragorn looked down at the trading city, he swore it would not be for much longer.
He could see the black sails in the harbour, preparing to dock and he looked at the people gathered behind them. He specifically looked at the King of the Dead. "I need those ships intact," he said sternly, "They are our passage to Gondor. I do not want a battle waged on the decks. I think it is preferable if the Corsairs saw the… wisdom… of leaving. Do you not agree?"
The King of the Dead bared his teeth, "Scare the wits out of them, you mean?" he said gruffly.
"I believe that will do." Aragorn said with a small smirk, and then removed Andúril from its sheath. "Let us go. And be stealthy. Let them not see the trap 'til it is too late."
The small company, with the ghosts hidden, made their way to the port. The city was near deserted, the people fleeing once news that the Corsairs were coming spread. Especially since Gondor could spare no forces to help them. When the pirates were pillaging, 'twas better to be in the safety of the other fiefdoms than the coastal city.
The rangers formed a loose line on the docks, waiting and watching carefully as the Corsairs prepared to dock. "You do know what you are doing, right laddie?" Gimli asked.
Aragorn spared him a small smile, "As well as any man can," he said, "Do not fret Master Dwarf, though your axe may not find much use here, I daresay it will find much to dent its blade in Minas Tirith."
Gimli rolled his eyes, "As long as the stupid horse does not throw us!" he grumbled under his breath.
Legolas arched an eyebrow, "Us?" he repeated, "I think you are mistaken, Dwarf. If any are going to fall off a horse, it will not be me but you!"
At the ill disguised snickers of Elladan and Elrohir, Gimli clutched his axe and resisted the urge to throw it at them. "Damn tree squirrels!" he muttered sourly.
The pirates on the first ship looked at the group in disbelief, belatedly recognising the Dúnedain. Aragorn ignored their sniggers and nudging of each other and dismounting from his horse, he called out to them, "You may go no further. You will not enter Gondor."
That set the pirates off in a fit of hysterics, until the captain glared at them and came forward, "And we are going to be stopped by a bunch of ragtag peasants from the north?" he said with derision, "Who are ye to deny us passage? Do ye not know that the Dark Lord would have your hide if we did not intend to have it first? What are you going to do ranger? Shout at us some more? And where did ye get a Dwarf? And Elves? Ye lads going in for pets now?"
Gimli bristled visibly and shook his axe, jumping down from the horse, "A pet!" he spluttered, "That is it. Right. We warned you. Prepare to be boarded. I will teach you the fury of a Dwarven axe and then toss your scrawny carcass overboard!"
The captain just laughed, "Boarded little Dwarf?" he said contemptuously, leaning on the railing to look at the strange creature, "By you and whose army?"
Aragorn smirked right back and then lifting his sword, pointed at the now visible ghosts, "This army." he said conversationally.
The corsair captain's eyes bugged out at the sight and his entire crew started yelling as the army of ghosts started swarming aboard their ship and the others docked alongside it. As the living company on the docks watched, the pirates abandoned ship. Casting themselves off from any available surface, they fled before the ghosts' wrath. The captain that had taunted the rangers waved his own sword and shouted at his disappearing crew, "Come back here ye filthy maggots!" he roared, "Are ye to be chased off by children's tales!"
A ghost promptly ran him true and he stared at the ghostly sword as it was withdrawn before collapsing on the deck.
In all, it was going very well. Most of the Corsairs were bobbing in the water, trying to swim away from this new horror. Aragorn looked at his brothers, who watched with all the amusement of someone watching a masque, "Entertained gwenyn?" he asked wryly.
"Oh, very much so, Estel." Elladan replied.
Elrohir nodded, "All that is missing now is some refreshments."
Aragorn sighed even as the King of the Dead tossed the last pirate from the ships, "Well, if you could put aside your jesting for one moment, let us get onboard. This fight is not over yet."
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Minas Tirith, Gondor, 3019 TA, March 15.
By now, Faramir was beginning to realise that scouting so close to the enemy might not have been the best of ideas.
Arrows flew around him, shot by orcs who crowed as he tried to outrun him. His horse was spooked and he could barely see where he was going. And he was already injured. One of the many arrows had found their mark and he was currently sprouting an orc arrow from his arm. It burned and pain jerked up his arm with every increasingly frantic tug on the reins and every beat of the horse's hooves.
He had to reach the city. They had to be warned and he was not overly looking forward to being at any orc's mercy.
Behind him, the great siege towers had passed through the immense holes in the Rammas Echor, pulled towards the city by massive cave-trolls. And behind them came the endless ranks of orcs, Southrons and Easterlings.
The horse's coat was lathered with sweat but Faramir was forced to keep pushing the poor animal to get to the great gates, ere they both died.
At last, he reached his destination, and the guards on the gate looked at him in startlement, and the gate swung open for him as he raced through, and shutting again with a great clang.
Even as two soldiers came to attend to him, he fell off the horse, clutching his arm in agony. He grabbed one by the collar, "The Pelennor is overrun. They will be upon us soon. Make sure we are ready for the siege." he gasped out, "And get Gandalf and his lady friend. And hurry man!"
They had no time to lose.
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Dol Amroth, Gondor, 3019 TA, March 16.
Arwen stalked the battlements of the seat of Dol Amroth like a caged lioness, and Lothíriel wearily watched her tread the same path she had been walking for the last two hours. "Are you sure he is coming?" she asked for the tenth time. "You have been prowling these halls since yestereve."
"He comes. I know it!" Arwen said snappily and resumed staring out at the darkened land. It was day but one would not know it. The creeping darkness from Mordor had swallowed the light and Lothíriel knew not what Arwen could see, when she herself could only make out the faint bobbing of the torches that fuelled the signal fires. With word of the Corsairs being again abroad, all the windows of every building had been shuttered. It looked like a ghost city, with not even the silver light of the moon to light their way.
"But when?" Lothíriel asked, "Do you plan on staying here in this gloom? You would not even see them in this shadow 'til they were upon us. I have already left instructions with the guard to bring him here when he comes. Will you not come inside and have some peace? Just looking at you is exhausting."
Arwen ignored her, her back straightening as she stared out into the gloom. Squinting, Lothíriel tried to see what had caught her attention but the shadow of Mordor foiled her best efforts. "Lady Arwen, what is it?" she demanded, crossing over to join the tense Elleth.
Arwen looked at her, and then drawing her cloak about her, started to head down into the halls proper, "He is here." she said simply.
"Where?" Lothíriel asked as she hurried to catch up, "I could see nothing."
"Keen are the eyes of the Eldar," was Arwen's only explanation, "Now come, we must grab him before he is cornered by the gossipmongers."
"Well, 'tis hardly everyday that someone returns from the dead," the princess pointed out tartly, "Perhaps if such rumours had not been spread and accepted so widely, we would not have this problem."
"That was not me," Arwen said defensively, "My friend Buffy was responsible for that. Go torment her."
"I am tormenting you!" Lothíriel choked out after a moment, "Lady, you have caused more uproar here since you arrived than a Corsair attack! And you say I am tormenting you!"
"Oh hush, we are near now." Arwen said conversationally, "Save your ire for your cousin."
And indeed there he was, travel stained and dusty but standing at in the reception room. He did a doubletake at the sight of the two ladies, "Lady Arwen?" he said in surprise, "What are you doing here!"
"Chasing you." the Elf-lady replied, even as Lothíriel crossed to Boromir and glared at him.
"I cannot believe you let your family believe you were dead!" she growled out, "Did you not think about how poor Faramir would feel at your antics?" He made to speak but she cut him off, "Do not even attempt to excuse this loathsome behaviour. Now sit down and listen to lady Arwen. Consider it a personal favour. And by favour I mean order."
"I am sure you have questions," Arwen began, looking at the plainly bewildered Boromir, and so started the tag team over the poor unsuspecting man, "Sadly, they will have to wait. To keep things brief, I know what your plan is. And I will be joining you on your little expedition. And I will not take no for an answer. Understand?"
He gaped for a moment before shaking his head, "Your lord father would kill me." he said, "And then your brothers would disembowel me and then Aragorn would have my head! Are you gone mad!"
She smiled winningly at him, "I assure you I am not. And if you want to reach Minas Tirith ere the war is over, I will be accompanying you."
Boromir looked at his cousin pleadingly, "I only came to seek men and supplies," he said, "I already have a goodly number waiting outside to march. Surely you will support me in this, dear cousin?"
Lothíriel looked blandly back, barely suppressing an undignified smirk, "The men you ask for are already waiting for you, with supplies," she said, "However, I fully back the Lady Arwen in this matter. Considering that you have already 'died' once, perhaps a minder would be in order?"
Arwen pinned him with her bright gaze, sensing that he was wavering, "Trust me, Boromir," she said softly, "I have seen what will come to pass. I must go. If you do not take me, I will only follow you. And I assure you, I can be worse than my brothers to those that cross me."
Boromir sighed as he read the resolve in her eyes, "Then you shall have the pleasure of explaining to your family how you ended up in the middle of a war. I shall have no part of the blame for that. Can you wield a weapon?"
Arwen arched an eyebrow, "Of course." she said succinctly, "I do have several millennia on you, Boromir. Do stop treating me like some fragile creature."
As their talk moved to plans and Arwen's foresight, Lothíriel was surprised to feel a sharp twinge of jealousy. She had never though to envy Arwen her participation in the war, but as time wore on, it became eminently clear that Arwen was not beholden to the wishes of her fathers and her brothers, like she herself was. Arwen could do as she pleased, and Lothíriel envied her that freedom.
As they talked, she almost felt like she would have liked to go with them and test her own mettle. But she had been charged with the safety of Dol Amroth while her brothers and father rode to war.
Still, it would have been nice to at least have the choice. And not forever be nothing more than the Princess of Dol Amroth and a pawn in the marriage market.
She would like to know true freedom at least once.
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Minas Tirith, Gondor, 3019 TA, March 16.
"It's not so much that I care about what you're doing, but the idiotic way you're doing it." - Vincent Valentine
Buffy and Gandalf rushed into the healing halls where Faramir was being treated at breakneck pace, "What happened to you!" Buffy cried in dismay. "What part of 'don't get killed' did you not get?"
"I think we have bigger problems than my injury," Faramir said stiffly, "I know nothing of you, but Gandalf has vouched for you and so I will try to trust you. I have seen what might Sauron is bringing to bear on us."
Buffy looked at him carefully, "That bad."
"I have never seen worse." Faramir said grimly, "They are flooding through Osgiliath like a tide, tens upon tens of thousands of them. And more besides."
Gandalf looked at him, "Will you not speak plainly?"
Faramir shook his head, "Not yet. You promised me proof, Mithrandir. I have yet to see it."
Gandalf nodded. "Buffy, show him the Ring of Barahir." he ordered softly.
"What!" she exclaimed, "Why?"
"Just show him, Buffy," he said, "Put his mind at ease. He needs to know that the King is coming and that you are here in his stead."
"This had better not be more meddling, you crafty old coot," she muttered as she pulled the Ring of Barahir from the chain about her neck and showed it to Faramir. "That satisfy you?"
Faramir recognised it immediately from the records and nodded respectfully, "Of course my lady," he replied.
Buffy rolled her eyes, "Scrap the 'my lady' bit and tell us what you saw."
"They have one hundred thousand troops at least and more coming every hour," Faramir said hoarsely, "And some creatures that I have never laid eyes on in my entire life. One was like a great beast, save it seemed to be made from fire and it helped to knock down the Rammas Echor."
Buffy winced, "Way tall, breathes fire, nice little flamey whip thingy?" she asked with dread.
Faramir nodded and wizard and slayer shared a significant glance. "Anything else?" Gandalf asked, sensing that was not the end of it.
Faramir looked at them frankly, "A dragon, I am sure of it."
Buffy and Gandalf froze. "Dragon!" they said at the same time.
Buffy's eyes were wide, "Dragon?" she repeated, "As in flying monster that breathes fire?" She looked at Gandalf, "I thought you were supposed to have killed the last one!"
Gandalf's gaze was dark, "Apparently not." he said darkly, "It seems that Sauron is determined to raze the White City to the ground. He sends not the Nazgûl yet, but instead creatures of fire. I think he means to burn us out if he cannot get in."
Buffy glanced down at Narya and then at Gandalf's staff and steeled herself, "Then I guess we're going to have to make sure that doesn't happen," she said firmly. "Are you okay to fight, Faramir, or are you out of action?"
"I can fight." Faramir answered, and followed the duo out into the citadel courtyard, where Denethor was waiting for them.
His eyes were wild and he clutched the palantír to him like one would a child. He stared at them almost uncomprehendingly, "And so all my sons are spent and my line ends here," he cried pitifully, "I knew you not do anything!" he spat at Faramir, "Always useless! And so the House of Stewards fails!"
He held up the palantír as he crossed to the wall to look down at the massive army that was coming towards the gates. "I saw this!" he exclaimed, "I saw it all! And so comes our death and destruction and Gondor's end! What can now stop the might of the Dark Lord? Rohan has deserted us. We are lost! The Dark Lord comes to claim it all! We are lost!" Looking down upon the battlements, he waved at the soldiers, "Abandon your posts! Flee! Flee for your lives!" he roared.
Buffy slapped him across the face, "Ignore that order!" she ordered the soldiers, "I'm in charge now. Get back to your posts and get ready for the damn siege. Do not make me come down there after you!"
Unwilling to pass up the chance, Gandalf whacked Denethor across the head and then in the stomach with his staff as the steward made to lunge at Buffy. The slayer looked at him with disgust and derision.
"Denethor!" she yelled as he made to go and scare the men again, "You call yourself the Steward of Gondor and dare to claim the title of Lord of this city! Well, not any longer. Get your ass out of here NOW! 'Cos if you do not you're about to get your ass kicked! By a woman no less!"
"I have seen it!" he roared back, "The city will fall! No one can defeat the Dark Lord! I have seen it!"
Even as he spoke, the sound of catapults firing filled the air and up on the highest circle of the city, two severed heads rolled along the ground, with more landing on the lower levels. They were the heads of the Gondorian soldiers who had not made it out of Osgiliath. It was almost enough to make one retch but Buffy could not afford to acknowledge the hit against the city's morale.
Instead, she grabbed the palantír from Denethor and drew her sword, "Leave now." she ordered, with a cold tone and colder face that brooked no opposition, "Don't come back. And don't try anything. You are no longer lord of this city. Insane people do not get to rule. Now get gone before I run you through."
Like a sulky bear, he left and Buffy stared down at the Palantír. What exactly had Denethor seen?
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"You expect us to fight off two hundred thousand enemies!" Imrahil exclaimed, "We have neither the manpower nor the strength of arms! The only chance we have is to hold this city against the siege!"
"That's the coward's way out! They'll just storm us like at Helms Deep!" Buffy protested, "Do you really think they won't get in? I'm not suggesting we charge out there like idiots, but by the Valar, we need to do something!"
"'Tis survival Lady Buffy! Look out there! We cannot fight them head on and the Rohirrim and Lord Aragorn will have great difficulties getting to us at all. Faramir agrees, we are to be defensive. Not offensive. There was only ten thousand at Helms Deep by all reports. A mere pittance compared to the army camped out around this city! And there is more coming all the time. Sauron wants Gondor to fall. And it shall if we are foolish."
"I'm not being foolish. We need to keep them out here and us in here. Sadly, I don't think those siege towers and ladders are going to remain unused. They will storm the walls. We need to play it smart. And if we don't take an offensive, we might as well get out the White Flag and start waving."
"And if we fail?" Imrahil asked, "The possibility must be entertained. What then?"
Buffy's smile was decidedly grim and dangerous, "Then we give him hell," she said bluntly, "If they want this city, then they are going to have to fight for it. Inch by bloody inch."
Pippin looked at her carefully, "It is going to be bad, isn't it?" he asked.
"Yeah," she said softly. She looked out at Sauron's gathered troops, "I'm kinda wondering whether the end near or here? But that is beside the point. We're not exactly short of asses to kick and I'm really not prepared to lose. So anyone got any other ideas?"
Silence.
"Right, I'll get started on it then," she said, leaving the room.
Imrahil shook his head as he rose from his chair, "I sincerely hope that this king can match up to his lady. I swear I have never seen her like. A strange Queen she will make, but a good one I think."
Gandalf smiled softly at him, "Aye, she is a rarity. But she knows how to fight. And we have great need of something that Sauron will not expect."
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In the trebuchet supply tower, Buffy pulled out the precious bag of Wizard's Fire she had quarrelled away from Isengard, and after coating the boulders with sticky tar, she liberally doused them with the exploding power.
Washing her hands afterwards, she thought of the effect with satisfaction. She thought that she would enjoy seeing the orcs go boom…
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Buffy looked at the demoralised men, "They have given up." Gandalf said.
"Well, the flying heads probably have something to do with that. Majorly gross." Buffy quipped.
"We have to do something." the wizard insisted.
"Any suggestions?" Buffy asked, wracking her brain. "You'd think that these people have never seen an apocalypse before."
"Talk to them," Gandalf said.
Buffy looked at him as if he had grown two heads, "But I'm not good with speeches! I think 'Men of Gondor, today is not the day we die.' is not very morale boosting. So can we just get on with the ass whooping now?"
Gandalf nodded and gestured towards the men manning the trebuchets, "Send these foul beasts into the abyss."
The boulder fired and landed with a satisfying splat, combined with a small boom as it blew apart, taking down more orcs than it crushed with shrapnel. Buffy gave a silent cheer. They worked. Her babies worked.
Her eyes widened, "Incoming!" she yelled, "Duck!" as a boulder slammed in behind them. Buffy surveyed the damage and her now dust covered armour. "This time aim for their damn catapults! And those bloody trolls!" she ordered, "Gandalf, I've gotta go see to the other levels. Happy hunting."
She had seen, as Gandalf had, the arrival of the Nazgûl, led by the Witch-king. And even as she raced to the lower levels, the Ringwraiths on their winged beasts flew overhead, their screeching leeching the courage out of people's hearts.
She careened into the next level, and started shouting the moment she saw some of the men cowering, "For Eru's sake! Get a grip! Hold them back! Do not give into your fear! That's what they want! Stay at your posts! Get up! Man your posts!"
Buffy was not impressed by the men of Gondor's reaction to the Nazgûl. Every time they flew overhead or let out a screech the Gondorians either threw themselves to the ground or froze up, unable to fight. It was unacceptable. Something had to be done and since the Slayer was the only one left functional, it was up to her to get them into gear.
"The siege towers are incoming people!" she roared, "Wake up and stop acting like babies! Or else orcs are going to be swarming these walls like ants! Hold them back goddamn it! Hold them back!"
At her cries, the men started to compose themselves but it was too late as the first of the siege towers clanged into the walls and orcs started pouring out. Grimly, Buffy pulled out her sword. It was to be hand to hand now.
The orcs were in.
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Buffy decided that someone obviously hated her.
If it wasn't enough that the orcs from the siege engines were slowly but steadily pouring into the city despite their best efforts, the Nazgûl had brought a new battering ram with them. Roughly one hundred and fifty feet long, with a monstrous face like a giant wolf at the fore, it was a nightmare come true. Fire even frothed from the mouth, and behind it came a Balrog. Helping to push it along.
The gates were solid wood but they would give way under that strength combined with fire. And then they would be truly screwed. The chant that rose up from the ranks of Sauron made her grit her teeth, as they shouted, "Grond! Grond!" over and over again.
"I think we're in trouble." she said to Faramir.
"I think so," he said, "I have to bolster the gate!" he said as he raced away.
"No!" Buffy said, "Don't! Shore up the next level! The gate won't last!"
"Then try to hold them off!"
Buffy stared at the Balrog that half of the defenders were nearly cowering at the sight of, "Oh yeah," she muttered, "Way easier said than done…"
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Despite herself, Buffy knew she needed an edge.
And so, retreating into one of the storage towers, she pulled out the palantír from her pack. It glittered in the faint candlelight, and images swirled across its surface, like fire rolling underneath the glass.
Steadying herself, she took off Narya, and then looked into the seeing stone.
At once, she peaked Sauron's interest and she felt his will coming to bear on her as he sought to influence her. However, she had already had the Master and Dracula trying to do the exact same thing, and was not inclined to let Sauron have a go. She forcefully shut him out and instead, concentrated on sending him images of her beating his army.
Even across this distance, she could feel his amusement at her efforts. Images swirled across the glass, showing Gondor's fall. Buffy was careful to keep her thoughts on what he had shown her locked away. She was always prepared to let her enemies dig their own holes.
He sensed her resolve and changing tactics, offered her victory, riches, -- all if she joined his service.
She scoffed at him. "Not happening. Ever." she said.
He teased her with images of how easily he would tear the city apart, "You make a lot of sense but I keep coming back to the fact that you're the lying, cheating Dark Lord," she deadpanned. "So again, I'm not going to back down. This city will not fall while I breathe. I swear it."
Laughing at her expense, he assured her that that would not be a problem….
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A/N: So? What do you think? Please READ and REVIEW!
Next chapter: Thranduil finds himself in some trouble… Grond causes some more trouble… an unexpected disaster… Faramir learns just how bad his luck is… and Denethor learns not to cross a slayer…
Elvish:
Dúnedain - Men of the West
Gwenyn - twins
Estel - hope
Elleth - Elf-maid
Mithrandir - Grey Pilgrim
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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.).
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.
Éoherë - term used by the Rohirrim for the full muster of their cavalry.
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.
Meduseld - the Golden Hall of Edoras, in Rohan. The residence of the King and the court.
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.
Pelargir - city and haven on the delta of the River Anduin.
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.
Red Arrow - the 'war-arrow' sent from Gondor to Rohan as a token of the need in Minas Tirith.
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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