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: Hi! See? The update has arrived! I am not dead! Enjoy the chaos! And who has read Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince? I cannot believe JK Rowling did what she did! It was beyond cruel!

Also, I apologise for the delay. However, for the last week and a half, my cousin was rushed into the hospital with acute appendicitis, and the doctors didn't catch it before it burst. So hence the major infection and yuck of all yucks, gangrene. Since the hospital is over an hour away, I have been a busy little bee. And longing for a laptop.

BTW, I don't suppose anyone could recommend a good high-specced laptop? It has to be an English model as here in little ol' Ireland, we do not get the American or Canadian versions.

Review responses:

Allen Pitt - Narya will do its bit alright. And don't worry, Denethor gets dealt with in this instalment.

Ally - Nothing serious. Just lots of RL problems landing in at once! I promise to try to do better!

Anna aka liit06 - thank you! Narya will feature but sadly, even it has its limits. And yes, Denethor ass whooping in this chapter. I can safely affirm that I will not be finishing or going back to 'A light to you'. I have better Buffy/LotR crossovers to work on if I decide to take on a second crossover fic. Thanks for the comments though. They were very nice.

Arcrose - thank you! And if you think anything comes easy in Buffy and Aragorn land, you are sadly mistaken. And the palantír is an important point. Very important. Arwen is up to a lot. To be explained later. And no, Lothíriel has to stay. Duty and all that. She has to look after Dol Amroth. Any pairings for Boromir or Lothíriel would, of course, be dealt with in the sequel. Not this fic. And I reserve the right to say nothing about Faramir's possible death. And I hope you find Denethor's end fitting. I thought it was an end he deserved.

Artemis1000 - thanks! And plenty of Denethor ass kicking in this chapter! I have the same thoughts on the whole Éowyn/Éomer thing. And no comments on the whole Éowyn/Faramir thingy. And do not worry; the way things are shaping up, they are going to need that ghost army. If Aragorn can be obliging. And while I think that Arwen is in for a major lecture from Elrond, I think Galadriel will come down on her side.

Buffy-CrazyaboutAngel - Denethor gets his comeuppance in this chapter!

ChibiChibi - thank you! And yes, Denethor's finale comes in this chapter.

Devine-desire - thank you! Considering what Gandalf is, I do not think he will ever come under the 'feeble' category of old people. Especially since he has been over two thousand years in Middle Earth.

Dreamzone - thank you! And Denethor definitely has justice done to him in this part! And Faramir's troubles are only beginning… And yes, Big Trouble for Thranduil. Very big trouble. And Elrond is not going to be happy with Arwen for sure! And come to think of it, neither are her brothers!

EverAfter-01 - Un-lived? Okay, I will give you that one. We will not know about that. However, I think suicide in Shakespeare's times was supposed to land you in hell. So Romeo and Juliet may not have un-lived very happily.

Gregdoreza - thanks! It might have seemed short but I felt that that was the best place to end it.

Jessica Turner - welcome and many thanks! And Buffy in danger is pretty much one of the key themes of this story.

Lali-chan - thanks! And you are so right about Faramir! The poor, poor man… and if Lothíriel was furious with Boromir, just imagine how Faramir and the rest of the Fellowship are going to react? You like LOST? Don't suppose you know who the Frenchwoman's 'they' are? And again, you are right. I am only warming up…

Pamie884 - thanks! And I too like my little meddlesome Arwen!

PrincessButtercup3 - thank you and welcome to FK then! And I have great plans for announcing Boromir's return to the land of the living!

Spk - thank you! I am glad you like the humour! I do try to get it just right sometimes! And yes, the dynamics between Buffy and Aragorn give my muse plenty of fodder!

Talina - thanks! And the point of Buffy looking into the palantír is shown in this chapter!

Tenshikoneko03 - thank you! And I hope you like Denethor's end. I thought it suited him. And let's just say that Faramir is going to get a whole new set of problems to worry about…

The Great and Powerful Oz - fantabulous? Thanks! And I really do not think I am going to start cursing your name.

XinnLajgin - Éowyn's moment comes in the next chapter. And Buffy and Aragorn's reunion is soon too.

And major thanks to:

brianne goree, capricornz89, DaughterofDeath, goldenshadows, Iceman, Kamui Gaia 07, Light Spinner, Lucy, mari, NiennaFaelivrin, peacockgal17, Sapph89, Selene, Starlight - My Chosen Destiny, The Lady Reaper of the Shadows, Tsuki no Yasha, Viper, Wild320,

CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE: SHADOWS FALLING

"Darkness, a dragon, now devours
The vision of those deadly powers,
The legions of the lords of sin.
It is an hour ere dawn begins."
- Alistair Crowley, 'The Initiation'

Mirkwood, 3019 TA, March 16.

Ensconced in his council chamber with his most trusted captains and advisors, Thranduil Oropherion, listened to the dread news with an ever sinking heart. "They come with torches, you say?"

Erundul, his Captain of the Guard, nodded, "Aye, nín aran." he said, "They do not just plunder and pillage. Instead, these glamhoth, they burn the forest down around them after they are done! Your majesty, I do not know if we can contain it. Already it is spreading and Dol Guldur pours ever more orcs into the wood."

Thranduil nodded stiffly, "How long until they reach the city?"

"Two hours nín aran," another captain replied, "The ellyth and elflings have been taken to the safest of the caves with provisions and a small company of guards and the soldiers are standing ready. Nín aran, what do you wish to do?"

Thranduil was silent for a long moment but when he raised his head, his eyes were spitting fire, "This forest has not survived years of Sauron's malice to lose now," he said firmly, "I will not be cowed now. We cannot run. Nevertheless, we shall not cower. We may fly before him but we shall never let him win. This is the battle of an age, but it cannot be worse than Dagorlad. They shall not burn this forest down. I forbid it. Now come, my friends, it is time to make war."

"Your Majesty?" one of the councillors enquired shakily, "What is it you mean to do?"

Thranduil turned to look at him, "One very determined young lady once taught me that sometimes the traditional methods are not always the best. Moreover, my own son and those terrors of Elrond's have left enough disaster in their wake throughout the centuries. I only think it is time that I wreak my own."

"But my lord!" one of the more cautious cried as some of the captains shared bared grins, "There shall be battle and fire under the trees! It will destroy the wood!"

"Not our wood." Thranduil said sternly, "Not ours. But the black wood in the south that they have ruined. Do not fret councillors; I intend to make sure the orcs destroy themselves without ever reaching the city."

"Your Majesty!" a messenger cried, bolting into the room, the thick wooden door slamming harshly into the stone wall, "Lady Galadriel sends an urgent message." he said, pressing a piece of rolled paper into the King's hand.

Thranduil carefully unrolled the paper and silently read the message. When he was done, he crumpled it and stuffed it in his pocket as the sundry advisors craned their necks trying to make out even a word. However, his gaze seemed to have sharpened, like a hawk with prey in sight.

"It seems Lord Celeborn is leading an expedition to Dol Guldur after both our realms have expelled the threats," he said calmly, ignoring the few sets of bulging eyes at his words, "Apparently, Lady Galadriel feels an urge to cast down Dol Guldur and everything within it. I personally agree." He grinned ferally, "So I will be joining him. As soon as I have disposed of some orcs. Come!" he called, exiting through the door, "It is payback time!"

At long last, he could cause Sauron just as much trouble as he had done to him.

Now he knew how Legolas and the twins felt after a particularly devious prank.

- Glorious…

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Minas Tirith, Gondor, 3019 TA, March 16.

Skidding out of the room, Buffy wasted no time in surveying the damage. Her face was a pallid white after what she had seen in the palantír. She did not think even Gandalf could have expected what she now knew was coming.

But somehow, they were going to have to win the day.

Against whatever odds.

Even if they were approaching impossible.

Hearing the ominous creaking sounds of wood beginning to give way over the loud pounding of the immense battering ram, Buffy winced. "Great," she muttered, "Just great..." Spotting a familiar pointed hat in the distance, she pelted off in the wizard's direction. "Gandalf!" she yelled, calling to him as she sped by, already seeing the great gates quaking and swaying, "The gate's going to give way! A little help would be appreciated here!"

Gandalf whipped around from his position sending orcs flying back to the ground instead of toppling over the walls and saw what she meant. Whirling about, he gestured with his staff in their direction; "Back to the gate!" he ordered those nearby, "Hurry!"

As she skidded to a stop near the gates, Buffy saw the disbelieving looks of most of the men present, who had not yet been privy to her and Denethor's latest disagreement. They could not seem to fathom what a woman was doing here, and one who seemed to be helping to run the show as well. They very obviously did not know what to make of her, but Buffy could not spare them a moment's concern.

Looking at the creaking gates, she was stumped as to what to do with them. They had nothing left to shore them up with and she felt that even steel would not do an adequate job of keeping Gondor's enemies out. Gandalf puffed his way up beside her and seemed to sense what convolutions were taking place in her mind.

Taking her elbow, he looked at her seriously, "You can do this," he said quietly.

Buffy scoffed, "With what? Unfortunately, they don't have bazookas in this world."

"But you have a weapon they do not," Gandalf said firmly, trying to impart to her what she must do, "Buffy," he began, "You are a ringbearer. And your death severed Narya's tie to the One. You freed the Three, Buffy. Now, wield Narya as the weapon it can be. Defend the gates of Gondor, defend your city! Be the warrior queen you were born to be!" he said passionately.

She glared at him but worry made it a half-hearted effort, "Not that again, Gandalf," she said, "I am so not getting into this fight right now except to say that you are so wrong. Me? A queen? So not happening. Get over it."

"Whether you will it or no, he loves you," Gandalf said softly, "This could be your city as much as it will be his. You defend it do you not?"

"Did you by any chance see the dragon?" Buffy said wryly, "I think my fireballs are a lot smaller than what it can do. So I'm still in the realm of 'trying to'."

"This is your time, your destiny. This is your world now. A world of wars, and Dark Lords, and sorcery. And you are far more powerful than you know. Sauron is rightly wary of you, though for a different reason than you may think. Do not let him and his wiles divert you from your task; - to make sure that this city stands long enough for aid to come. Imrahil and Faramir will aid you, but you have the weapon. And soon Sauron will know you have it, whether you wish it or not. The Witch-King draws his nets tight and he will sense the power soon enough. No more hiding Buffy. It is time to make a stand."

For a long moment, the slayer just looked at him and then slowly, she nodded. "So you want me to let it rip then?" she said, plans already whirling through her head.

"Precisely," Gandalf said, "I think you know what will be the outcome of this round, but it will buy us time to shore up the next level. 'Tis a game of strategy as much as it is a game of luck."

Buffy's eyes drifted to the quaking gate, "Well, we all know my luck. So go then," she said decisively, "I'll give you your diversion. And I think I have just the thing in mind."

The wizard did not waste a second before pelting up through to the next gate, situated near to the back of this level, and Buffy calmly swinging her sword, strode over to the gates.

One of the ranking captains there glared at her as she motioned for him to move out of the way, "Who do you think you are, woman!" he demanded as his men struggled to brace the gates.

Buffy smiled, a slow smirk that screamed danger, "Why? Didn't someone tell you? I'm the one that knows how to stop them."

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The gate shook forcefully, dust and splinters raining down on the defenders as the great metal head of Grond slammed into it once more. Buffy stared at it for a moment, wondering the best way to attempt this when a stone flew in from one of the catapults and only a hasty step to the right saved her from being squished.

Annoyed, Buffy glared at the stone, "Okay, now I'm upset."

Letting the presence of Narya fill her mind, she silently let the Ring of Fire guide her in what to do.

Fire leaped from the ring even as the head of Grond buckled in the gate and broke through. It was a sorcerer's flame, and the molten flame settled itself around the battering ram. As Buffy felt Narya's spell begin to kick into effect, she yelled for the surrounding men to fall back, even as she herself retreated a few paces.

Even as the orcs broke through, climbing in behind it, they did not realise the danger until Grond gave an unnatural heave and then in a burst of fire worthy of an Elven Ring, shattered into a thousand pieces, the sharp shards of wood striking orcs and the now molten metal burning all those who came into contact with it.

As the front ranks of the orcs pulled back in dismay and pain, not knowing what had just happened, Buffy saw the men of Gondor staring at her as if she had not only grown two heads but another set of arms as well.

Seeing Gandalf looking down from the next level with an approving smile, Buffy cocked an eyebrow and addressed him, "Think there'll be anymore?" she said with some satisfaction, "I can wait."

The wizard just shook his head in resignation at her flippant mood. Boys it seemed would be boys, and Buffy would always be Buffy.

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While the front ranks of Sauron's forces were in a state of disarray after Narya's intervention, the men of Gondor were trying to shore up the gate. Ruptured, they knew it would not last long after the Witch-King forced his troops onward, but they needed to buy time. Every minute they gained was lives saved.

Helping out with hauling the heavy wood, Buffy was surprised when a scout let out an awful cry and without one weapon even coming near him, fainted dead away from his sentry post. Feeling the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, Buffy vaulted her way up to the now abandoned sentry post and scarcely ignored the urge to kick something, really hard when she saw what exactly had made the solder swoon.

She really could not blame him for it either.

Outside on the field, the Witch-King was leading reinforcements to the front lines. Reinforcements that looked like they did not need the rest of Sauron's army to throw down Gondor's walls. Buffy felt the beginnings of what had to be a migraine pound out the beat of the drums in her head.

Imrahil climbed up beside her, swiftly followed by a grim Gandalf, "What is that thing!" the prince asked in horror.

Beside him, Buffy's eyes were transfixed, "I'll let you know as soon as I find out." she said faintly. "Just please, someone tell me that isn't another dragon."

"I wish I could," Gandalf said darkly, "I fear this may be our undoing. I take it this is no… friend of yours?"

"Never saw it before." Buffy said with no attempt at humour, "But I'm guessing that it's not friendly. These things always have only one purpose. To kill us all. That's usually the way it works."

"But why now? Why is it here? What is it doing here?"

"Based on the clues," Buffy said grimly, "I'll go with charging up for a killing spree. And that is a best case scenario. Gandalf, my little, um, gift, is not going to be able to handle this. Hell, I don't even know what the monster out there even is, except that it looks like Mr Nasty! And two dragons, two Balrogs, a few Nazgûl, and a whole army of Men and orcs are a little out of anyone's capabilities!"

"What are you saying?" Imrahil asked shakily.

Buffy met his eyes squarely, and said what she and Gandalf already knew, "They're here for blood and chances of any of us getting out of this alive are slim to none, but we have to try anyway. Because if we don't, we might as well kill ourselves and save them the bother."

Ignoring the prince, Gandalf took Buffy by the elbow but his eyes were sad, "You know what has to be done."

She flashed him a grim little smile, "Yep, was pretty much born to it." She caught Gandalf's look and knew what it meant, "Don't worry, I never expected to survive this long anyway." She knew all too well what a slayer's nightmare often meant.

And then she shoved the wizard and Imrahil away, and jumped up onto the battlements.

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Buffy stared down at the creature, careful to hide any fear, studying this new problem. The monster was not a pretty sight. Around seven feet tall, it had a similar look to the monster that had led to her death in Moria but nastier if that was possible. It did not look remotely human, more a genetically modified Uruk-hai, with a tail with what looked like a ball of spikes on the end of it. And even worse than its appalling fashion sense (way worse than any regular orc), Buffy knew that it was strong. Just by the way it moved. And worse again, it did not even seem wary of her at all.

Tilting her head up, she gave it her best imperious stare, "I don't care what you are or who you're working for," she called out, "I'm giving you ten seconds to clear out, and then I'm going to get on with the business of killing you. So how about you just do it yourself and save me the bother?"

The monster actually had the gall to laugh. "I don't think so, girl," it sneered, "I think I'm going to crush you."

"You wouldn't be the first to try buddy," Buffy said with bravado, "You see, to me, you're just another monster in a long line of monsters. What the hell is supposed to make you any different?"

But to her dismay, it did not take the bait. Instead, it watched her with uncommonly intelligent eyes for a demon. The two Balrogs beside it cracked their whips ominously. Buffy got the rather scary feeling that it did not seem to consider her a threat at all. Just like Adam. Just like the First Evil. And look how those encounters had turned out. If was the new and improved version of Sauron's previous assassins, then she - and everyone - were in a serious amount of Trouble.

She could not face it now. She could not face her death now. She still had too much to. She would have to level the playing field somewhat before she would give Sauron the satisfaction of finally killing her. Smiling with saccharine sweetness, she waved her sword around for emphasis, "Look, pal. You're obviously not from around here. Now, I don't know what Sauron told you, but trust me, you do not want to see my bad side."

It roared at her, showing a neat row of razor sharp teeth. She looked on, unimpressed, "Wow, that was funny looking. Could you do it again?" she said, voice practically dripping with sarcasm as she folded her arms across her chest.

It was starting to get a little frustrated now she could tell. It had always been a gift of hers to totally infuriate her enemies. And the more mistakes she could get it to make, the better off she would be.

"I will kill you for that wench." it snarled.

"Only for that?" she said dryly, "Then what exactly were you trying to kill me for before? Because I think that you are being rude. I like to banter before I kill someone, but for someone like you, I might make an exception and just kill you already. Because guess what? I'm pretty sure your little master didn't tell you something very important if you're here this quick. Wanna see?"

The demon grabbed a rock from one of the catapults and hurled it at Buffy. The slayer sidestepped on the wall as the large piece of stone went flying past her. Inwardly, she recognised its strength. Outwardly, she arched an eyebrow. "Is that it Mr Monster? Is that all you got? Pretty pathetic isn't it?"

The monster wanted her blood now. She could sense it. Unfortunately, she had to make damn sure she bought enough time to make it count. Praying that this worked, she let Narya rip again. Fire danced along the stone walls, not burning them but doing a good job of keeping Mr Monster and co out. She knew it would not work on the dragons or the Balrogs but she could only cope with one problem at a time and hope that it would want to wait and kill her himself.

She stumbled and nearly fell as a wave of exhaustion hit her and sent her swaying. She looked askance at the Ring of Fire. It seemed that it was not the weapon she had expected. Not if it drained her this quickly. Still, she was no Elf, even if she had been gifted with the life of the people of Númenor. And apparently, Narya would now be a last resort. Because she honestly did not know if she would stay standing if she had to use it again.

Staggering down from the wall, she allowed herself to lean against it for a moment before she pushed away.

Already the magical flames were dying down.

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The upper levels were in chaos.

And it was Faramir's job to bring them under some control. Siege towers were being flung off the walls, orcs and soldiers were being slain on the battlements, the Nazgûl were causing havoc and mass panic was infusing the atmosphere at the sight of creatures that were only heard of in legends of ages past.

Needless to say, it was a difficult endeavour.

As three of the Nazgûl swooped overhead, shrieking again, Faramir felt a chill go down his spine and saw no few of his men cowering in their wake. Stout little Pippin was beside him, having been unable to make his way back to the citadel due to the sprawling melee. And so the brave hobbit was sticking close to Faramir, determined to be useful since Gandalf had already hunted him away from the thickest of the fighting down below.

A sudden chill swept over him and the shouts of his men alerted him to what had happened before he felt the disturbance behind him. Spinning around, he almost got his head chopped up by a Nazgûl blade that missed him by barely a hair as Pippin pushed him down and out of the way.

The Nazgûl glared venomously at his saviour but the ranger and the hobbit were already up and moving out of the way as the Nazgûl flew by for a second strike.

Looking at Pippin gratefully, Faramir clapped him on the shoulder, "I do believe I owe you my life - and my head- Master Hobbit." he said quietly, "I am in your debt. Thank you my friend."

Pippin grinned up at him, "Well, it is one up on Merry anyway!" he said, "But think nothing of it. Peregrin Took always helps his friends."

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Ducking into the citadel courtyard, Pippin screeched to a halt as he saw Denethor duck into the street of Rath Dínen and scurry down the silent avenue. Curiosity peaked; Pippin crossed the yard and ducked through the gate, just in time to see Denethor's heavy robes disappear around the corner. Following him, he skidded to a stop as he saw Denethor meet someone who was waiting for him, standing weapon less in the middle of the street, and a Nazgûl bearing down on him. He thought of going to get help but something in Denethor's expression told him that this visitor had not been unexpected. And the visitor looked strangely like the Witch King of Angmar.

Which since Weathertop, he had learned was never good.

The Morgul Lord leaned forward on his monstrous mount, "Steward…" he hissed, "Where is it?"

"W-where's what?" Denethor stammered, cowering in the presence of the Dark Lord's Nazgûl Lord.

"Where is the One Ring?" the wraith hissed impatiently, "My lord knows you know fool. Tell me and I might not rip the skin from your bones. My pet is quite hungry."

Denethor whitened, and he bowed his head, almost in deference, "You mean the hobbits?"

Oh by the Green Dragon! Pippin swore inwardly as he listened in. Denethor was going to give Frodo and Sam away! How could he!

Not waiting to hear Denethor try to barter for his life, Pippin tiptoed away and then took off at a run. He had to warn Buffy and Gandalf. Somehow he did not think they had factored in a traitor in their midst.

And they were the only ones here who could save Frodo and Sam.

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"I HATE dragons!"

Buffy's outraged cry reverberated through the lower levels as she put out the small fire on her now singed braid. A full inch of it had been burned off, and the smell was nauseating, even for a slayer. Gore she could handle but her hair! And so she was whining even more than Cordelia.

Looking at Gandalf, whose own beard and hat looked rather charcoaled, after a rather unfortunate burst of dragon flame - who knew dragons had such tempers? - Buffy eyed him wryly, "Well," she drawled, "That was a good plan. What's next? Invite them to a barbeque? With us as the meat?"

Gandalf glared at her, "The last time a dragon was brought down, I was with an army. Five armies to be precise! And it still took only an arrow! One arrow!"

"Gee Gandalf, that's great and all. But I think the orcs are on the dragons' side this time. And its dragons. Plural. Not to mention, I think even Legolas would be pushed to make an arrow hit its mark considering they, oh, are, you know, setting everything on fire! We can't hold it Gandalf."

"Narya?"

Buffy shook her head, "Not going to happen. I think it can do maybe one more really big thing but then it and I are down for the count. And I would like to remind you that taking out one dragon ain't going to help much if Sauron's version of Frankenstein's Monster and his Balrog friends are still roaming free and with all limbs intact."

"Sometimes I wish you would speak something I could understand," Gandalf said touchily, even as the sounds of yet more flames taking root came from the other end of the street.

"Gandalf, we have to get these men out of here," Buffy said urgently, "They can't beat dragon fire. And I'd rather have them guard the next level and perhaps find a handy lake of water to use than have them be dragon kibble."

"If we leave, the Nazgûl shall break in the gate. And then the Balrogs shall enter. For they fear no flame."

But rather than frowning at that little bit of gloom, the wizard watched puzzled as Buffy merely smirked. Half a century's friendship and sometimes he wondered if anyone really knew what went through her mind half the time.

Furthering his surprise, Buffy just nodded, "That should work."

Gandalf's bushy eyebrows drew together like a grouchy caterpillar. He did not like being kept in the dark. Especially when he was in a flaming fire pit with two dragons flying overhead, causing havoc and Sauron's enormous army perched outside the gates. And that 'outside' but was extremely tremulous as they came closer and closer to breaking in.

But Buffy knew what she was doing. The gates were broken; the only thing keeping Sauron's hordes out was the fire. And she knew that the Nazgûl would send in the Balrogs to take them out, counting on the fact that most people would quail and run at the very sight of that fearsome monster from the First Age. Morgoth had created them for such a purpose after all. 'Twas how he had overrun Gondolin, and now his one time lieutenant, Sauron, was employing the same tactics. But Buffy planned on beating him at his own game. She always liked it when cocky world ruler wannabes tipped their hands a mite too early.

"Listen carefully Gandalf," she said quietly, "The Witch-King is not a fool. He has all of this planned to a tee. He is going to burn us out until we have to give up or burn alive. The city is built on stone, it will survive and Sauron only wants everyone dead anyway. The fact that there's no city for Aragorn to return to will only make him that much happier. Of course, he knows we pretty much know that, so he is not going to give us any time to do anything about it. Soon enough, he is going to send in those Balrogs of his, with the plan to basically annihilate us. I am pretty sure that the siege towers will drop quite a few orcs into the levels not burning and so wipe us out with minimum loss to his little army. The perfect rout. Don't you see now?"

Indeed, Gandalf did. "How in Elbereth's name did you find this out?" he demanded.

Buffy blushed slightly, "I, um, looked into the palantír Denethor was so fond of."

"You did what!" Gandalf exclaimed, looking close to thumping her, "What part of 'No ringbearer is to have exposure to one of those cursed things' did you not understand!" he hissed angrily.

"I understood that Sauron had something nasty up his sleeve and I wasn't prepared to wait for him to share it." Buffy retorted calmly, "I have been around apocalypse type things in the past, you know. I do recognise when someone's got something in the works. And so I did what I always do - take a peek. Sue me if you want, but I still got the info I needed."

"And what exactly do you plan on doing with it?"

"Well, I don't know about you, but I plan on giving the Balrogs a nasty surprise. Suffice it to say that I hope it will be of the lethal variety."

A loud boom and a sudden flaring of flames cut her off and suggested that the fire had penetrated the cellars of some tavern and told her that their time was running out. "C'mon Gandalf," she said, offering the wizard a hand up, "We have to retreat for the moment. And then we can make sure that all hell breaks loose." She paused, "The strange thing is, I'm almost looking forward to it."

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At almost the same time that Buffy and Gandalf were plotting, a lone hobbit ran desperately through the chaos stricken streets.

Soldiers rushed past him, heading for either the walls or the wells, and more flooding up from the first level, forming a rising tide that shoved into Pippin. The little hobbit struggled like a salmon going upriver against the current of men going the opposite direction.

Every now and then he stopped a soldier, crying out over the catapult and trebuchet fire, the loud whooshing sounds and the crash of stone against stone, "Gandalf!" he panted every time, "Where is Gandalf? And Buffy! Do you know where they are! I must find them!"

A boulder slammed into the side of the tall building next to him, causing the wall to start crumbling away, blocking the road with rubble and blinding Pippin with its dust, but his response was always the same. Each soldier said that Buffy and Gandalf were down in the snakes' pit that was the first level, which was now lost for certain. He felt his spirit quail and what could await him down there but he knew that he had to get to at least one of them. They had to save Frodo and Sam! They had to!

However, luck was with him. All of a sudden, he spotted a familiar pointed hat though blackened beyond repair, and a familiar voice roaring out from beside the second level gate, "Retreat!" he bellowed impressively, "Retreat you fools! The city is breached. Fall back! Fall back! Hurry! To the second level! Get out of there before it burns around your ears!"

A flood of men poured through the second gate and even as Pippin ran towards it, a rather dishevelled blonde figure raced through the gates.

"Orcs are coming through Gandalf," she panted out, "The Nazgûl are hunting them in. And they fear the wraiths more than the fire. Which screws everything up. The Balrogs won't be far behind them but I couldn't see them in the mess." She shook her head in dismay, clutching the bloody hilt of her sword, "We can't wait any longer! We have to shut the gate! They are coming!"

Equally dismayed at the thought of leaving men behind, Gandalf nodded at the necessity, "Close the gates!" he roared, "Quickly now! Close them now!"

The great gates swung closed, the men barring the entrance with wood and furniture - anything they could use the shore up the gates. A few feet away from them, a line of archers lined up, prepared to shoot over the gates at any who came near.

Pippin skidded to a stop beside the wizard, grabbing at his robes frantically, causing the wizard and slayer to look at him in surprise. "Gandalf!" he huffed out, "You must come! Denethor has run mad! He is spilling Frodo's secrets to the Witch-King! In the Silent Street! You have to come! Before he tells him where they are!"

Gandalf paled dramatically and whistling sharply, called Shadowfax to him. He knew he had no time. "Up!" he said to Pippin, boosting him up onto the horse's back as he himself jumped up.

Buffy sheathed her sword, "Go!" she urged them, "I'll catch up with you there!"

The wizard did not even wait for her to finish. Instead, he sped Shadowfax into a canter faster than any horse in Middle Earth and he and Pippin were gone in a blur of white and silver.

Buffy only stared after them for a moment before passing the command to a stunned Faramir and taking off at the fastest run the slayer could manage.

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Gandalf burst into the citadel on Shadowfax, and immediately saw that they whom they sought were in the Silent Street of Rath Dínen no longer. A bruised Denethor cowered against the wall as an irate Witch-King crossed the courtyard on his winged beast. The wraith spotted Gandalf first. And Pippin nervously looked at the outcropping behind them. It was too close for comfort.

The White Rider glowered at the Morgul Lord, before brandishing his staff, "Go back to the abyss." he boomed brusquely, "Go! Fall into the nothingness that awaits you and your master."

The Witch-King had the gall to laugh, cold and high pitched and Pippin shivered to hear it. It seemed even worse than that diabolical screeching. He eyed the wizard contemptuously, as if he were a mere twig underfoot, "Do you not know death when you see it, old man?" he said, stalking closer, black holes of eyes locked onto him, ignoring Denethor for the moment as he turned his back on him, "This is my hour, you old fool." He held up his sword, the deadly Nazgûl blade, flame running along the blade at his command.

Pippin gulped but Gandalf seemed unimpressed, holding out his staff and mumbling ancient words under his breath but in a great flash of light, the Witch-King snapped Gandalf's staff in two and the force of the blow threw both wizard and hobbit back and off the horse.

Gandalf lay there for a moment, winded, even as Pippin lay dazed against a wall. Scornfully, the Witch-King dismounted and approached Gandalf, sword bared. in the distance Pippin cried out, "You have failed old man," the Morgul Lord sneered, "The world of Men will fall… As it is doing now. By my hand…"

He raised his sword to slay the wizard but a voice from behind stopped him in his tracks, "What a pretty sentiment," Buffy said derisively, "You should get that framed under the most moronic statement of the year."

Incensed, the Witch-king turned, "You!" he hissed.

"Ah, so you can see through that hood," Buffy said, "And I thought you just aimed so badly because you couldn't see. Guess that just means you are so bad at it. How did you get this job anyway? You're obviously no good at it."

The wraith seethed quietly, the very air around him seeming to freeze, "You dare insult me little girl?" he sneered, "I could kill you in an eye blink."

"I'm thinking not if I kill you first," Buffy said, one hand on her hip, the other holding her sword.

"Fool!" the wraith mocked, "No man can kill me."

Buffy's smile was dark and mocking, "Do I look like a man? Buddy, I left fully human behind decades ago. You think I can't be as dark as you? That I can't kill you? You're dreaming. I always knew that Death could come for us. Any time. Any place. But not me, and not now. Prophecy may say that you will die by no man's hand alright. But care to try me?"

Gandalf staggered to his feet, "Buffy! No!" he cried, "Think of what you must do!"

Buffy met his eyes squarely, "In the end, who else is there? Gandalf, he can stand against one. Not two." she said quietly, determinedly, "Isn't that right?"

"I have toppled kings and kingdoms, whole realms flee before me," the Morgul Lord said contemptuously, "Do not think that you even pose a problem. This city is mine."

"No it's mine." Buffy said firmly, "In keeping for another." A hand reached down to haul Denethor to his feet, "And without this guy, I get the feeling that you are going to be in a whole lot of trouble with your master." Her lips curved into a small smile as she saw the wraith stiffen. "Bingo." she muttered under her breath and then sent a significant glance at Gandalf.

Without a word, the wizard picked up the two ends of his staff.

And silence fell, waiting for the Witch-King to make his move.

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Buffy really did not know where this display of courage was coming from. She was standing in front of the Lord of the Nazgûl and his flying beast, holding a struggling Denethor in one hand and a sword in the other. Somewhere in the city, two Balrogs and two Dragons were destroying things and flooding in through the gates was the biggest army she had ever seen. Gandalf was down, his staff cloven in two, just like Boromir's horn. Beside him, Pippin watched in terrified silence. And to make matters worse, she was deliberately goading the Witch-King. Who already wanted to kill her for previous humiliations.

To the casual observer, it would seem that she was suicidal.

Buffy spared a glance at Denethor, feeling nothing but disgust for him. How much had he already betrayed? "So I guess you didn't get what you wanted if you're still here and not flying off to your master?" she said with as much derision in her tone as she could muster, "Still don't know where the One Ring is, do you?" The Witch-King started in surprise, "Oh yes, I know. I know it very well." she said, catching his attention, "And if you thought that Denethor knew anything, you're sadly mistaken. Look at him. Do you think anyone would trust him with such knowledge?"

The Morgul Lord looked at her and in that instant, Buffy knew that he had not bought her bluff. She had feared he might not. And feared what she had to do if so.

She knew that now the Witch-king knew that Denethor knew the One Ring's location, he and his lackeys would never stop hunting Denethor. And Denethor could not be trusted to hold his tongue. He would trade the fate of Middle Earth for a few more minutes of life. She knew it in her bones.

But she had never been a cold-blooded killer; she had never killed for a secret. And with a sickening feeling, she realised that cold-blooded murder was exactly what was required here. Denethor had to be silenced.

But she could not bring herself to be the one to do it. But the foolish steward had said too much as it was. Her blade met Denethor's throat, "Take one step, and I slit his throat." she said to the Witch-King, "And the location dies with him."

Gandalf saw the conflict in her eyes, the wily wizard knowing the predicament and torn himself. With a look that clearly said 'take him and run', he lunged at the Ringwraith, whacking him with his broken staff to distract him and pulling out his sword. Buffy's heart clenched at his bravery and she hauled Denethor along with her as she started to move. The blubbering man came easily at first as she tried to drag him towards the citadel, where she could hide him, but no more than ten paces from where they had begun, Buffy felt cold steel nick her throat.

Spinning around, she avoided Denethor's dagger as he plunged it into the space where she had been. Screaming in rage, teeth bared, he leapt on her, knocking her to the ground as he tried to stab her once more.

A punch to the face sent him reeling back and Buffy took the opportunity to shove him off and flip to her feet. He charged her again, no sign of sanity in those wide eyes and Buffy knew that the Witch-King had broken him. She kicked the blade out of his hand, but he grabbed her sword from her waist and both of them latched onto it in a deadly tug of war.

With a slipping sound, it came loose from its sheath and Denethor, eyes lit up with glee, pounced, grabbing for it but Buffy reached it first, kicking it out of his grip and sending it flying five feet away. Immediately, she went after it, grabbing it and picking it up.

With the bare blade held out, she spun around. - Only for Denethor to crash into her, impaling himself on her blade.

For a moment, all was silence, even the Witch-King staring at this new debacle. Buffy, still holding the blade in a death grip, saw Denethor's eyes widen in pain and horror and they both looked down to see a good foot of steel going through his chest and out his back. For a ghastly moment, their eyes met - Buffy's wide, horrified hazel meeting the bitterly dying ones of Denethor.

Blood poured out onto her wrist, onto her feet, - a never-ending flow of it that tainted Buffy's vision. His life's blood, covering her like a shroud.

With a little jerk, Denethor coughed up blood, chest rattling through the hole and then he fell, death taking him. With a horrified yell, Buffy yanked the sword out. The crimson blade came out with a horrible slurping sound that rang in her ears, and Denethor's corpse fell to the ground with a small thud, eyes open but sightless. Dead.

Crying out, Buffy dropped the sword and brought her hands up to her face. Her blood covered hands. Covered with Denethor's blood. Staggering back a few paces, she let out a hysterical laugh as she sank to the ground, staring at the hands of a murderer. A slayer was supposed to protect, to kill demons. Since coming to Middle Earth, she had killed in war but never anyone she knew. Never face to face. She had never had to look into dying eyes.

She had just done what had turned Faith.

She had crossed the line. She was a killer. Some part of her tried to point out that it was Denethor who attacked her, but the greatest part of her mind kept staring at Denethor's dead body. And the blood covered sword that lay near it.

The sky was starting to lighten even as her mind darkened with horror, and so caught up in its thrall was she, that she did not sense the danger behind her. Did not see Gandalf thrown against the wall, did not see the Witch-king coming with sword bared.

She dodged the first blow by instinct but then cold hands grabbed her wrists, pushing her down flat, a Nazgûl blade at her throat even as Gandalf and Pippin shouted out for her to do something. Her eyes were wide, nearly unseeing, and she stared into the darkness of the Witch-king's face as it moved to kill her.

It seemed what went around came around.

She was going to pay thrice over for her mistake.

She closed her eyes, 'I am so sorry Aragorn….'

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Minas Tirith, Gondor, 3019 TA, March 17. - dawn.

Cold steel plunged towards Buffy's throat as the dawn burst over the horizon, the first light since the shadow had started pouring out from Mordor.

But just as Buffy felt her death was imminent, a sound split the air, faint at first but growing louder until it echoed around the city. Surprised, the Witch-king stopped, his blade halting, and the sound came again. And again. And again.

It was a horn.

Its notes were clear and bright, ringing throughout the stone walls of the city, causing defenders to feel renewed hope and vigour while enemies felt a chill in their bones.

The Rohirrim had come at last.

Recognising it, the Witch-King near forgot about Buffy as he raced to the wall, to see what it was. Buffy staggered up and followed him. And nearly wept when she saw what was there.

On the hill, on the very edge of the Pelennor Fields, a ling line of riders stood silhouetted against the dawn, ranks upon ranks of them, stretching down in a long line like the crest of a wave. As one, they blew their horns and the armies upon the Pelennor looked up from their siege of the city, to see the thousands of the finest riders in Middle Earth looking down upon them.

"Éomer…" Buffy breathed in profound relief, and her whisper dragged the Witch-king from his stupor and for a moment, he looked at her, as if contemplating whether to finish her off. She held his gaze now and he turned to go, knowing he had no time.

Reinforcements had come.

It was a whole new war.

And for the first time in what seemed like eternity, Buffy began to hope that they just might win it after all….

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A/N: Well? Opinions please people! How does the battle go so far! Please READ and REVIEW!

Next chapter: Trouble with firepower and spectres… Faramir finds yet more trouble… Thranduil battles to save his kingdom…. The Rohirrim show Gondor how it's done… And Big Trouble at the Battle of the Pelennor Fields….

Elvish:

Oropherion - son of Oropher

Nín aran - my king

Glamhoth - orcs

Ellyth - Elf-maids

Dagorlad - the Battle Plain

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Caras Galadhon - City of the Trees. The city in Lothlórien where Galadriel and Celeborn reside.

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.

Gondolin - called the Hidden City or the Hidden Realm. Founded and ruled by Turgon, son of Fingolfin, in the First Age. Eventually destroyed by Morgoth.

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.

Lothíriel - daughter of Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth, wife of King Éomer of Rohan and mother of Elfwine the Fair.

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.

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.

Moria - 'The Black Chasm', later name for the great works of the Dwarves under the Misty Mountains. Called Khazad-dûm in Dwarvish.

Mundburg - 'Guardian Fortress'. name in Rohan of Minas Tirith.

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.

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.

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.

Rath Dinen - 'The Silent Street' in Minas Tirith.

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

Vilya - the Ring of Air. Strongest of the three Elven Rings made by Celebrimbor. Borne by Elrond.

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