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. We won't divulge the truth now; rather, we'll save it for later.

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.

Notes: My apologies for the lateness of this chapter. To put it mildly, I'm actually happy to be in school again! I've been working on other projects, too, one of which I am really pleased with. Despite the heavy drama in the previous two chapters, I kind of enjoyed the little layaway. Here is Katrina's intro into this lovely world…

x-x-x

Chapter 4

By Katrina Claire

x-x-x

It was morning when the woman returned. The fires had drawn low and her patient was still in her cot and still resting. She was surprised, however, when the girl turned her head to look at her for a moment before turning to look away.

"You're awake." The girl didn't move. She just kept staring at the archways leading into the dawn. "I know that you would rather not speak, but I do not—" Her eyes widened as she saw the young woman staring at her blankly. She blinked as she suddenly considered the reason why. "Do you not recognize my tongue?" the woman asked softly, moving towards the young woman, who shrank away. "Shhh, do not fear me, child. I am the least of your concern."

Buffy waited as the woman reached for her hand and removed the cloth wrap before gazing at the gravely injured limb. "I set your arm to allow it to heal. But…" Her voice faded as she saw that the arm was in its right place instead of slightly out of joint and blinked incoherently. "How is this possible?"

The girl just murmured incoherently and continued to writhe. Seeing the gaunt, pale look about her, she smiled and touched the girl's face. "Erchirion?" she called out, glancing to the room's entrance. She knew her son was lurking about and hoped he was nearby. When he didn't respond, she knew that Imrahil must have gotten a hold of him. This meant that her husband was coming soon. "Please, rest. I will reset your arm 'ere my husband comes. He wishes to speak with you and the matter is of some urgency."

Rising from the bed, she moved quickly into the shadows and out of sight.

x-x-x

Buffy had been watching the sun rise over the mountains. It was a beautiful sight, something she hadn't really stopped and paid much attention to. There was just too much going on with the Mayor, her friends, Angel…

Taking a sharp breath, she blinked away the tears that were threatening again. How could she even begin to process this when she had no idea where the hell she was? She stretched out on the bed, hearing her neck crack and grimaced. The cot was most uncomfortable and the fact it was large enough to just hold her was little comfort. She missed her comfortable bed back in Sunnydale… far, far away from this version of Hell.

And yet, there was something almost ironic about the sun rising like this. The sun was her source of comfort. But now it just reminded her of what she had lost.

It was at that very moment when someone walked into the room. She moved quickly and talked to herself. When she talked to her, Buffy just heard something that sounded like English but couldn't really figure it out. It sounded funny. Hilarious even. She would have smiled if the situation wasn't so bad. She knew from the woman's guarded stance and from the man talking to her the night before that her arrival here was unexpected and not welcome. These people apparently feared newcomers who weren't six feet tall and a hundred pounds and looking like rejects from the Renaissance era.

She waited for the woman to dote on her. The first thing she did was unwrap her arm. She seemed surprised when the arm had begun to heal. She whispered to herself again before throwing out a single word over her shoulder. This one sounded familiar: Erchirion. He was the one she had spoken with overnight.

The woman scared her. She was tall and quite broad and, in the rising light, quite stunning. She spoke in a language Buffy didn't understand. When she looked at her with what she hoped would be a confused expression, the woman just babbled on. When she sat down next to her and started playing with her arm, however, Buffy felt like she was crossing the line. She didn't want to speak out in case someone was standing in the shadows just daring for the proper moment to shoot her. Instead she lay as still as she possibly could until the woman ran away again.

It was then and only then that she could breathe. She shifted on the cot, feeling her bones protest on the hard surface. "So not liking this," she muttered, coughing as she sat up, reaching for the weird-shaped jug sitting next to her bed. Last night, it had held water. Upon further inspection, she drank greedily until the jug was empty. Setting it aside, she continued to move around, testing her arms and legs. Even her injured arm was feeling better. It still felt tight but the bone had healed sometime during the night. In another day or two, it would be perfectly useful again.

Then she could plan her escape. Once she was hydrated and fed and healed she could get the hell out of here.

A door slammed somewhere nearby. She jumped at the sudden sound and fought the urge to laugh at herself. She was from Sunnydale and never jumped at strange, foreign sounds; she had gone towards them and attacked. Voices grew louder and more urgent. She heard the sound of shouting, both male and female and quickly looked right and left for a weapon. She didn't care if she was being watched. If they were going to take her out, she wasn't going to go quietly. She reached for the jug and held it defensively in her arms, drawing her knees instinctively to her chest.

Then, the door to the healing room burst open and several figures flocked inside. The woman was with them, pleading for the first man in some indistinguishable language. Others were gathering around the cot, drawing swords. Some had bows and arrows.

"What…" she murmured under her breath, glancing around at the faces hidden behind cloaks. They held the weapons defensively. Glancing down at the jug in her hands, she gave a soft, apologetic laugh as she set the jug back on the table and wrapped her uninjured arm tightly around her legs and held her injured arm to her chest.

All at once, they started yelling at her. Different voices from different cloaked figures, all shouting at her in some random language. Why couldn't she understand it? Why couldn't they just lay off of her so that she could figure out what they were saying? Why couldn't they talk English? As their shouting grew in volume, she moaned and removed her arm from her leg, choosing instead to cover her ears with her hands and bury her face in her knees. Of all the places Faith had sent her… into a sea to drown her and into this Hell-like culture without any of the comforts of home… to die in a mystical Oz where the inhabitants couldn't speak anything she could understand. When she chanced a look up, all of their faces were blurring. She closed her eyes again, almost welcoming the cold blade slicing through her dried skin, welcome the cold death that she knew would eventually await her.

There was a sudden bellow and the room fell still.

Buffy glanced up, blinking as the central figure approached her, removing the hood. Slowly, she removed her hands from her ears and placed them back on the bed. Her breathing caught in her throat as she saw the look on the man's face. It wasn't angry. It wasn't fearful. It was questioning, but that she could understand. She knew the second she arrived here she didn't belong here. Anyone who noticed her pants and boots could have figured that out in about ten seconds. He said something again. It sounded a lot like he could be asking 'who are you?' or possibly 'where are you from?'. There could have been the question as to whether or not she was the spawn of Satan, but she digressed.

"I'm sorry," she said, feeling her face relax as she looked the man in the eye. "I don't understand you."

"Do you… do you not speak the language of man?"

Buffy shifted her focus to a second man who stepped forward, pulling off his hood.

"Erchie?" she questioned blandly.

The man immediately turned to the figure who suddenly froze, his face a panic-stricken mask. "Erchie?" he asked archly.

"That wasn't my language," Buffy cut in as the man turned scornfully back to her. "That wasn't even English. What was it?" She looked to the man again.

"I speak Westron," the man replied. "I believe my name is Erchirion. Do not call me… Erchie."

"So sorry," Buffy muttered, turning back to the man. He was looking angrier now.

"They were speaking the same tongue," Erchirion added.

"But it makes no sense when you're all yelling at me."

"You are not speaking Westron," the man suddenly said, cutting the banter down. Erchirion cleared his throat and took a step back. "What is your name, child?"

"Buffy…" she said, realizing at that moment how stupid she sounded saying her name.

"If you wish not tell us, that will only advance my thought that you are a servant of the South."

Buffy shook her head in disbelief, trying to force her tired brain around the language. He sounded like Giles, but far stuffier. He sounded almost ridiculous but to the point that everyone save Erchirion likely spoke this way. But she knew Erchirion was in trouble with the man, who was obviously their leader. "If you mean south," she began, "as in warmer weather and suntans, then yes, I'm from the south."

The men exchanged a dark look, their hands tightening over their weapons. Realizing her error and slip of the tongue, she held out her hand and quickly jumped in to calm a situation that could quickly escape her control. "No, no, no," she said hastily, seeing their looks change from questioning to aggressive. "I take it the south is… bad?"

"The south is controlled by our enemies," Erchirion said in a quiet voice.

Crap, she thought to herself. I sure handled this one well. "But… water, me, drowning… I…" Was now the time to let it all out, surrounded by weapons and men large enough to take her out with a single stroke? If she acted out in her own form of violence, that would seal her fate because then they would be convinced she was one of their enemies. But she wasn't. Right?

Then again, there was the flip side. She had no idea who these people were. She had no idea if these were the bad guys and the good guys were actually a lot friendlier. She had to give them credit though. In the misty morning light, she saw they had pretty swords. "I'm not evil," she murmured.

"Speak, lady, for we grow irksome of your runabout words."

"I'm not from the south," Buffy raised her voice and looked him in the eye. "I'm not sure where I'm from. The men rescued me from the sea before I could drown. Before that, I couldn't tell you." A flash of Faith's malicious face and the glint of her dagger surged through her mind. Angel's dramatic eyes in no terms telling her that they were doomed before she fazed from their existence broke her heart. She felt all of her defensive resolve crumbling and looked down, locking her arm around her legs again and pressing her forehead to her knees.

"She is no harm to us," Erchirion finally spoke, calculating eyes searching the unfazed face of the woman before them.

"Nay," the man finally said, lowering her sword. "Nor do I believe… however… is there an army following you?"

She shook her head slowly. "No," she sighed. "Nobody here but me."

"She could have been held against her will," Erchirion said, speaking to the leader. "They may have cast her to sea. If she was wounded, this could explain why she cannot remember."

The man nodded thoughtfully before tilting his head, considering the woman again. Her shredded, water-logged clothes were neatly piled at the end of her bed. Wrapped in a simple white shift, she looked far smaller and younger than she truly was. "Have they hurt you?"

She could feel her eyes tear up as she saw the look on Faith's face, the one that held triumph because she was doing what no vampire or demon could before. "Yes," she whispered.

"That is enough," the woman snapped, reappearing suddenly and appealing to the leader with her hands on her hips. "She is no spy, my prince."

"We have seen many guises," the man replied, his eyes flickering at the woman by his side. "They are not above sending young women on the brink of death."

"If she is the forefront of some forsaken army, then perhaps you should be scouting the land instead of interrogating this frightened child," the woman retorted back. "Even if she knew a hundred thousand men armed to the teeth were behind her, why would she find reason to inform you?"

"She thinks we will kill her," Erchirion said quietly, turning to face his parents. "Perhaps if we can protect her—"

"We should protect her?" the man asked scornfully, staring at his son with disdain flashing behind his fair eyes. "We should protect a spy?"

"She is no spy," the woman said forcefully, taking her husband by the arm and pulling him aside.

"I am more willing to agree with her, father," another voice piped in as their son Amrothos came forward. "She is a fair judge of character."

"What say you?" Erchirion asked, turning to his mother.

"I feel no deception about her," the woman replied simply. "If she has betrayed us, we can easily rid of her; there is no doubt of that. But stay your ground and keep your minds wary," she said, warning her sons to the eminent danger about them. "She may not know of war, but war will come upon us soon enough."

"Lindariel," the man sighed, pressing a hand to his forehead. "I must see this to my counsel."

"I understand," she said, reaching out to touch his face. "We should allow her to rest here, Imrahil. If she has a story to tell, we will ensure she is protected ere she tells it."

"I concur," Elphir said, joining the rest of his family. "She looks but a child."

"As I have said earlier," Imrahil replied, raising his voice, "they are not above sending one to us on the brink of death. Or have we forgotten all we have lost falling prey to their traps?"

There was a moment of silence as all took in his statement, knowing full well that they had lost many of Gondor's finest fighting off the enemy after a ruse such as this one. The enemy to the south in Harad had used children to distract the soldiers, knowing that Gondor would waste no time in their compassion.

"I will bring this before my counsel," Imrahil said, glancing at his family about him. "Disperse the others, my son. Lindariel, see to her needs. If she requests food and drink, see to it that she is taken care of. If she asks to leave, however—"

"I will ensure she remains here," Lindariel said sternly. "I will not allow her to leave."

"I, too, will remain," Erchirion spoke up.

"Yes, you will, Erchie," Amrothos snorted in amusement. "Have you been making nice with our guest?"

"I know only her name," Erchirion replied honestly. "I do not think she will depart, father. I do not believe she has anywhere else to go."

"Nevertheless, we must use caution," Imrahil said as his sons left, escorting his other knights from the room and pushing them back to the main corridor outside the healing room. He turned to his wife and drew her aside, speaking to her in terms only she would understand. "If our son is to answer her questions, please ensure he does not speak too fondly. He has a habit of speaking more than necessary."

"I will."

His lips turned upwards and instantly the dark look melted from his face, taking on a soft, loving look. "You have done yourself well, finding a new guest to brighten our quarters."

"If she does not first throw herself o'er the balcony, we could consider her a guest," Lindariel teased. "Go. See your counsel and return with word. I will not hold her in my healing room forever."

"I will," he said quietly, glancing down and staring at their enjoined hands. "As for Lothíriel…"

"She will be curious, but we will contain her."

"It is hard to contain her," Imrahil said, unable to fully hide a fond smirk. "She will wish to… entertain… our guest."

"Perhaps we should let her. Our daughter would be in no immediate danger," Lindariel reminded him. "Companionship may be necessary to open her up to us."

He brought their hands up to his lips and pecked hers before releasing them. "It shall be done. I will return soon. See to our guest."

She smiled softly as her husband turned and walked away, bringing Elphir and Amrothos with him. When her gaze drifted back to the girl, she saw Erchirion sitting next to the girl and helping her settle in. A different thought suddenly occurred to her as she watched this exchange. There was a certain fondness there. Erchirion always had the compassionate spirit. But the girl seemed receptive to his nature. He wasn't going to question her motives or call her on her innocence. He was going to be there at her side helping her lay down and offering her food and drink. As Erchirion moved away, her eyes turned curiously to the girl. She was looking after the young man with the strangest look on her face.

"Do you need anything?"

"No," the girl replied, taking great effort to look at her. "I think I have everything I need."

x-x-x

Even as the men deliberated on the fate of the young woman to the council, Lindariel and her son Erchirion stayed by the young woman in the healing room. She went between fits of boredom and asking questions to demanding something called a television and room service. She appeared to eat little of the plate Erchirion had prepared for her, saying that she was something called a vegetarian now that she had smelled the rather large portions of roast boar he had brought. As night approached, Lindariel sent Erchirion to rest and took over the duties herself. She re-wrapped the young woman's arm again despite the fact that there was only a little swelling remaining. When she brought up the subject, the young woman closed her mouth and looked stoically away, refusing to answer the question. Once her task was done, the girl seemed to drift off to sleep.

Lindariel collected the plate and pitcher, moving off to clear the things away. She refilled the jug with water and set a cleansing bowl with fresh oils and water, putting it on the table next to her cot. She blew out the lanterns, leaving only the one near her bed aflame. The candle set off a fiery light, casting shadows around the large room. It was cold again, as it was nearly Spring and the winter had been most brutal. She moved to the balcony and walked out, drawing her cloak tightly about her shoulders. The stars were particularly bright tonight, drawing her breath away. Glancing behind her, she felt disappointed the girl was asleep. The sky at night was truly something of wonder. The light of the Elves' most beloved star shone brightly over her head, peppering the sky with thousands of her siblings. She only wished the girl could see the sky. Even in their darkest time with the war and with the darkness surrounding Dol Amroth, jewel port city of Gondor, there was always something beautiful surrounding them.

She knew the hour was late and the time had come to rest herself. Turning back, she cast one last longing glance to the sky before retiring.

x-x-x

It was another night of restless sleep. Images of Faith, her parents, Angel, her friends and Giles waved in and out of her dreams. Angelus made his own appearance, telling her that she deserved to drown, wash up with the sea and be stuck in eternity among people more clueless than she was. Faith was telling her how weak she was. Xander was telling she wasn't good enough to be with the good guys. Her mother was telling her what a disappointment she was.

In hindsight, she was almost relieved when she felt something poking at her injured arm. She shifted slightly, a shaft of sunlight falling across her face. Buffy murmured to herself, snuggling deep under the warm covers. She didn't want to wake up yet. Her darkest dreams had faded and now it was just a relaxing sleep that made her even more exhausted. There was a sudden giggle before she felt the prod again.

"No," Buffy moaned, pushing the arm away and rolling over, curling her knees into her chest and sighing. She felt a weight at the back of the bed before she felt someone jump on her. "… the hell?" she murmured, rolling over and hearing a shriek. There was the sound of someone falling onto the floor and then more giggling. "Who's there?"

The giggling grew louder. Forcing her eyes open, Buffy moved until she was glancing over the side of her cot. There was a young girl in a blue dress and dark cloak spilled across the floor, giggling. She looked up and smiled brightly at the grumpy face glaring at her over the edge of the cot. "Hello," she said softly, shyly.

"Hi, there," Buffy said, rolling onto her stomach as the young girl seemed to pull herself together. "Who are you?"

"I am called Lothíriel," the girl replied with a giggle. "My brother was speaking of you."

"Your brother?" Buffy asked lightly, trying to keep her curiosity to a minimum. The girl nodded before rising to her feet. Buffy blinked as she stared up. The girl was obviously tall, probably about as tall as Buffy herself. "How old are you?"

"For fourteen years as the seasons change have I lived in this world," the girl said proudly. "Although more of the others than to this one."

"No, no," Buffy said with a teasing smile. "You should have said that no one asks a lady's age, no matter how young or cute she is."

The girl looked alarmed and blinked for a moment before shrugging. "I do not mind sharing my life years," she argued in a small voice. "My family finds pride in them."

"And so we should," a masculine voice cut in as a figure appeared from the archway. "Lothíriel… you were to meet Elphir early. Have you escaped our brother that quickly?"

"No, Erchirion, I will go. May I return later?" Instead of asking her brother this question, she glanced at the young woman in the cot.

"I think I'd like the company," Buffy said, adding a nod to appease the girl's sudden confused expression. "You can come back later."

Lothíriel glanced up to her brother and grinned, rushing off into the shadows giggling.

"Is she always so full of energy?" Buffy asked Erchirion as she fell back against her pillows.

"For her, this is rather tame," he teased, pausing a moment until she was relaxed. "She is curious, though. She has received that particular trait from our father."

"I think I'll look forward to seeing her later," Buffy replied after a moment. "She reminds me of someone I used to know." Myself, she silently added.

"My father has spoken with his counsel for most of the night," Erchirion said, launching straight in. Buffy sighed, realizing that the young man had come to talk business rather than appreciate her company. "They will come within minutes to tell you of their decision."

"Have you heard that decision?" Buffy asked, unable to look at him.

"I have not. But the others, they will come soon. Do not fear my father."

"Oh, I'm not afraid of him," she said, watching the confusion cross his face. Again, she was confusing them with her language. She was going to have to work on that.

"His decision may not appease you," he warned her before biding her farewell and disappearing with the promise of bringing back breakfast.

Buffy sighed inwardly and looked around. Even if the council's decision wasn't a good one, she was just going to have to work through things. Alone. This was part of the reason she had a Watcher. Good God was she missing him now.

x-x-x

Next: Buffy finds an unlikely ally in a confusing old world; Imrahil consults his counsel…

The next chapter is sort of… well, pleasant. It makes up for all the drama in this one. Reviewer comments have been added to the site. Happy reading!