Like Silver Glass

Rating: T, for torture, adult content and adult themes; this is a dark drama. Though it does have happy moments, most of it is not a shiny, happy story.

Pairings: We have decided. You will know.

Teaser: She lost everything… her love, her life, her family… now she's in danger of losing her soul.

Summary: Faith sent Buffy away using her demonic contacts, one that landed her literally in the sea of hell. Trapped, furious, in Dol Amroth, Buffy silently plots the demise of her sister Slayer. But after a daring escape from her prison, she's trapped by the dark foes of Sauron. After months of torture at the hands of her captors, her only salvation comes in the form of the son of the Steward of Gondor…

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon. The 'Lord of the Rings' book series belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien. The plot is our own… see the notes below to confirm.

Timeline: This story begins in the approximate time of May 3013. As Buffy is now near Belfalas and will soon be entering a pre-war storyline in Gondor, some things need to be said. As stated above, she will be in Dol Amroth. There dwells Prince Imrahil, his wife and his family – including three sons Elphir, Erchirion and Amrothos and his youngest, his daughter Lothíriel. I'm just guessing that as Imrahil was born in 2955, he will be in nearing 60 by the time of this story. That being said, it is likely his sons would be in their 20s. Lothíriel at the time of the story is between 14 and 15 years of age. Buffy is newly 18.

Notes: Here are some things that will and will not happen in our story; Buffy joining the Fellowship. Though she will be involved in some sort of fellowship, it will not be the original Fellowship. She will not have superpowers. That just doesn't belong in the story. Other characters from Buffy-verse may come into the story at a later date. Not everyone will love Buffy and she will not love everyone. There will be two original characters and several more added just to keep flow with the story. And unlike the previous stories I have written in this genre, this one will include significant plot changes to the original trilogy. We are planning this as a trilogy and if it does work out, the entire original trilogy will take place in this nice first story.

x-x-x

Chapter 2

By Alyson Kay

x-x-x

Like silver glass, the water broke upon rocks, spilling crystalline foam over sun-bleached stones. With it came a figure that spilt upon the rocks. Slowly the tide drew out, receding and leaving in its place the single figure. Long hair was twisted like coiled rope, trailing entangled amongst smaller rocks. Her skin was translucent, scarred from hours spent underwater. Jagged cuts spread across bloated skin. Blue lips were pressed tightly to the sand.

With a single wave, the tide rushed back in, sweeping the figure back and forward with such a rush that as it drew back, her bruised eyes opened. Slowly, she tipped her chin up and took in a deep, ragged breath. Stunned eyes took in the wall of boulders less than ten feet from her. Gulls screeched overhead as the waves crashed again. As her body was drawn backwards, her body came to life. She struggled to hold onto whatever she could as the water tugged at her legs, threatening to pull her back to sea. Aching fingers grasped at twisted, dying roots protruding from the ground and helpless feet kicked at the salty water. Yet despite her best efforts, the tide swished over her head, dousing her with tepid saltwater and pulling her body back against her will. As the waters receded, she fell, panting, back to the earth.

As soon as her exhausted body hit the rocks, she felt as though another breath could be her last. Everything hurt in the most possible way. As her fingers curled into the sand, the damnable sea growled again. She knew she didn't have it in her to survive this much longer. She had already drowned once; she didn't need to do it again. And here she thought that she was going to drown again. Somehow, for some crazy, odd miracle she had survived a death plunge into the ice-cold sea of doom. Pressing her forehead down to the rock, she exhaled slowly, feeling the cramp in her hip spread across her back and down her legs.

Then the sea returned with a vengeance.

With a sudden crash, she ploughed into the cliff and cried out as her body twisted and turned into a sharp jetty. On the other side of the rocks, two men glanced up and exchanged a wary glance as they heard a sound from the rocks below. Moving quickly to the edge, they saw a figure lying at the base of the rocks surrounded by swirling water.

Though her ears could hear them shouting at her, her mind was far too gone to even comprehend that they were there and they wanted to know if she was all right. She shuddered at the impact as her arm snapped. She could no longer cry out. As her body lay on the rocks, her eyes blinked blearily as two figures approached, both carrying something large in their hands. One bent down to touch her face and stared into her glazed eyes. They were talking to her, but she couldn't understand. Why couldn't she understand what they were saying? She heard them, but she couldn't talk. She couldn't move. She was in excruciating pain even as he lifted her neck off of the ground. Her eyes plead with him to leave her be and let her rest here, but his expression was kind. A gentle hand leaned down and brushed roughly against her cheek. Her point of view altered as his hand tipped her chin.

She was so tired… she just wanted to close her eyes and sleep. And yet their voices kept telling her not to close her eyes. They told her now was not a time to sleep because if she fell asleep she would die.

She couldn't die… not yet. Not when she had so much left to do…

And then she remembered. It hurt far worse than death. A bitter longing filled her entire being even as she felt weightless, her body floating magically above the ground as her two saviors carried her away from the sea. As the sound of rushing water faded, she felt her head turn and stare at the gulls swarming the sky.

The last thing she saw before darkness overcame her were several large ships with great silver sails and two long piers. Despite the fact she was losing consciousness, a part of her wondered curiously why such large ships would be docked to the beach.

x-x-x

An old woman was tending to her stores when she heard the sound of her door opening. She briefly glanced up, barely suppressing a sigh as she saw the waterlogged figure in the man's arms. "Not another one," she muttered under her breath, moving to clean the table from the various assortments of pottery bowls, scrolls and candlesticks. Then, carefully stepping over the goods, she patted the old stone table with a weathered hand. "Set her here."

The man complied with her orders, anxiety etched on his face as the figure was laid upon the table. Her eyes were barely open and staring straight up. Her breath was coming in short, rasping pants. Her lips were the faintest tint of blue. But it was the look on her face that gave away her fate. "Where did you find her?"

"We heard something coming upon the rocks," the first man explained, shrugging at the second figure that had walked in behind him. "We looked out to sea and there she was."

"She looks terrified," the woman replied, pressing a warm hand on the woman's sun-kissed cheek. "Yet she breathes still. I must tend to her immediately."

"Will she live?"

"I do not know," the woman replied, her brow furrowed as she stared hard at the young woman on her table. "Most will give in to fear. We must tell her that she does not have to be afraid."

"But what does she fear, my lady?" the second man asked, walking over and glancing at the young woman. "She is but a child."

"There are many things for one to fear," the old woman replied, setting an old wooden box full of herbal supplies and bandages on the table next to the woman. "Bring me that lamp… I need sufficient lighting to see."

As soon as one brought her the oil lamp from her shop, both men departed back for the docks. The woman began to work on the child until her husband, old and crippled and traveling by walking stick, appeared, rubbing his eyes. "I thought I heard the dock boys."

"You have heard correctly," the woman replied, gently bandaging a deep cut along the woman's neckline. "They brought us a gift."

The old man showed surprise as he stared at the young woman on his table. "They have brought us a woman."

"She was in the sea," the woman replied, carefully tucking the end of the bandage under what remained of the woman's shirt. "But look here… she does not wear proper garments." Her fingers held the edge of the once-fashionable t-shirt and stared at the boots still dripping water from the woman's feet. "And her skin coloring is far different from our own."

"Do you suppose she comes from the south?" the old man asked incredulously.

"In all of my years, I have never seen one body from the south," the old woman sighed. "I do not know."

"Perhaps she is from Rohan."

"To wash up upon our shores?" the woman asked, clearly taken aback. "Her coloring is far darker than any neighbor to the north."

The old man sat at a crudely-hewn stool and watched as his wife cleaned off the girl's face. "We should bring her to Dol Amroth."

"She could face questioning at the hands of our lord," the old woman reminded him. "If she is found to be from the south, she could be executed."

"Or she could be seen as a spy, if she is," the man reminded her. "We must discover the truth behind her falling at our shores! If she is from the south, an army could not be far behind. She could be a pirate for all we know!"

"A pirate?" the old woman scoffed. "I do not believe that anything as young and fair as she could be considered as such."

"You have been mistaken before."

"Your point is true, but she is so very young."

"We were all that young once," the man grumbled. "She needs to be questioned."

"I must care for her needs, first," the old woman sighed. "She nearly drowned at sea. We cannot have her die before she can provide answers."

"Shall I fetch the young men to take her to the city?"

"All in good time," the old woman replied, setting a pile of old rags behind the girl's head. "I do not wish for her first memory in Belfelas to awaken in the house of Dol Amroth with armed detail surrounding her and firing a hundred rapid questions of her bloodline and lineage."

"It may come to that."

"Yes, it might," the old woman replied, slightly distracted as the girl began to writhe on the table. Letting out a low moan, she leaned over the table, knocking the oil lamp from its foundation. The old man sprang to his feet to collect the lamp ere it catches fire. The old woman quickly retrieved an empty pot as the young girl wretched into it. "That is the only way to do it, my dear," she said, stroking the girl's oily hair as she continued to spew copious amounts of seawater into the pail.

The old man slammed the oil lamp back on the table and sighed. "I do not think you should help her."

"What would you have me do? Would you have me let her die?"

"She must go to the city and receive proper treatment from an experienced healer."

The old woman bristled at his tone of voice. "I have spent the past sixty years healing ails and illnesses of my children, our grandchildren and every suitable man, woman and child in this village. If that is not enough experience…"

"We do not know who she is," the man emphasized, stamping his walking stick for effect. "If you were to harbor an enemy…"

"I would never!"

"Then you must not treat her!" he commanded, stamping his walking stick down one last time.

"Then I shall not treat her further," the woman replied, crossing her arms and looking crestfallen. "I will leave her to the healers in the city."

"I will go and get a blanket."

"You would do well to retrieve those boys if she is to be transported."

The old man grunted something back to her and then stomped out of the room. The old woman turned back to the young girl, who was staring at her with wide, terrified eyes. "If only my hands were as nimble as times past I could help you. But your care is beyond my ability now. For that, you must go to the house of our Prince. I cannot help you, for I do not know your story. If you come with ships filled with evil men, your arrival is unwelcome."

The girl shook her head slightly, tears swimming in her mysterious brown eyes.

"Can you tell me your name, child?"

Again, the girl shook her head.

"It will be far easier now to speak your name ere your arrival at Dol Amroth," the old woman cautioned her.

The young woman drew in a sharp breath, tears escaping from the corners of her eyelids. Her body tensed and her lips twisted, obvious signs to the older woman that she was absolutely frightened beyond all recognition or speech or acknowledgment. All the old woman could do was tuck in the corners of the blanket and await the arrival of the young men to take her to the city, easily miles away.

An hour later, her husband returned with the two young men. They both looked astounded to see the woman lying on the table.

"Has she not awakened?"

"Only to become ill in my house," the old man mumbled, stumbling past the two young men with his walking stick. Pausing, he lifted his stick and shook it as his wife. "You will mark my words and you will mark them well—"

"You will not threaten me," the woman replied, drawing up to her full height. "I will not have you mock me within my walls." She turned then to the two young men. "Will you take her to Dol Amroth? She needs a healer's care now."

"Are you worried about who she is?"

"I am more concerned about what trouble she may bring," her husband retorted, leaning heavily upon his stick. "If she is from the south, there is likely an army not a day's length behind."

"But why send a child to our shores? Why not send cannons and men and war machines?"

"Do not ask me about the rules of war, boy," the old woman murmured, placing her hands on her hips. "That will be for our lord to decide."

"We must journey to the city, but we are still awaiting supplies from the docks."

"How long will you need?" the woman asked, her lips pursed.

"Not one day," the second man replied.

"It may be far too late if an invasion is planned," the first said, speaking out of turn as the old woman opened her mouth to speak. "I apologize for your time spent on her, my lady."

"As fair as she is, this is not the first time our people have been fooled. This is not the first time I have been fooled."

Both men bowed to her and retrieved the girl. She whimpered as they took her into their arms.

"Please, be gentle," the woman said, her eyes full of concern. "She has obviously been through much. If she is part of an invasion planned from the south, we do not have much time. But she is still a child and as much a victim in this war as any child."

The young man tucked the blanket around her face as he steadied her. "She will receive the best care, my lady. Give our regards."

They both bowed and retreated. As they left, the old woman turned to her husband, wringing her hands. "Oh, I wish I could have helped her!"

"You have done the right thing, though it was hard. She must not be allowed to see our village or the docks."

"And yet," the old woman replied, watching as her husband hobbled into the other room, the odious pot in his hand, "she is only a girl."

x-x-x

Through forces unknown, Buffy Summers was still alive.

She remembered sinking into the dark, swirling water and a vicious tide sweeping her into a sharp lot of rocks. She remembered feeling airborne and the tingling sensation as she was lifted and set down. She remembered turning on her side as she vomited up the seawater she'd swallowed. She remembered the kind, old woman's face as she smiled at her, speaking in great gentle tones. But she also knew the look in her eyes; she would not help her.

As she fell back asleep, she began to dream. In her dream, she and Faith were standing off in Angel's mansion. Faith held her knife and despite the fact she'd been deceived, she felt fear. Faith had made her afraid.

She's forgotten how much she hated that.

And then with the old woman and all of her questions… what was that? Where was she? There was no lamp over her head, but some flickering lantern with really pungent oil. Both she and the older man looked unkempt and ragged.

Was she in Africa maybe, perhaps in a missionary house?

She longed to ask these questions.

But her mind continued with her dream.

Faith was standing there with a vial in her hand. Buffy knew from the look in Faith's eyes that she was not going to just let this go. She had a plan of her own. That plan unfortunately included throwing an evil vial at her feet. Buffy heard her own screams, but at the same time saw Faith pulling out a stake as Angel's arm wound its way around her throat. As her cries subsided, her eyes saw what her heart could not yet grasp – Faith had gone for Angel with the stake after beating him back. As the stake sank into his chest, his body began to crumble to dust. Her vanishing hand reached out, her fingers outstretched to grasp for Angel's. But his hand turned to dust and an instant later they were both gone. They both knew the end was coming. His eyes held a silent goodbye. Her eyes longed to reach out and touch him one last time.

But they were gone and Faith was alone.

Feeling an anger like none other, it lit a fire deep within. She knew in her heart that Angel was dead; Faith had planned this from the beginning. She had known that Angel would trick her despite the fact that they had played every trump card they possessed. But it had backfired in their faces. Faith had access to an advanced magic so powerful it could transport Buffy to an unknown sea or ocean. Faith obviously thought that Buffy would drown again but likely what she had not counted on was Buffy's survival.

If she survived what was to come, Faith would never know what hit her. Buffy had great plans to make Faith pay, spurned on by the anger of losing her former lover.

Faith was going to pay, dearly, if Buffy ever saw her again.

x-x-x

Next: Buffy arrives in Dol Amroth and those in power are informed of her arrival.

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