Chapter Fifteen: Concerning Balrogs and Philanderers
Willow and Arwen rushed over to where she lay sprawled on the ground. "How bad did it get you?" Willow asked.
Buffy tentatively felt her upper arm. Now that the adrenaline was fading, it felt crushed from shoulder to elbow. She could tell that there was broken bone, and she could feel the deep puncture wounds of its teeth. And she definitely had several broken ribs. "Pretty bad. But nothing slayer healing can't take care of."
They blanched at the horrific sight of Buffy's mangled arm, but forced themselves to stay calm. Willow emptied her water bottle over the mangled flesh, and then bound it tightly with a strip of cloth, hoping to stem the flow of blood. She and Arwen quickly packed their belongings, and as the sun began to peak over the horizon they slowly left the site of the massacre. When they were a good distance away, Buffy looked back and gasped. Every single one of the bodies, including that of the beast, had disappeared.
"What the hell?" Buffy asked no one in particular.
"Arwen?" Willow prodded the elf.
"No clue," she replied, borrowing one of their phrases. They trudged on for an hour, and then stopped when Buffy sank to the ground.
Willow crouched beside her fearfully. "Are you OK?"
"Yeah, just a little woozy. Give me a minute and I'll be good."
Willow glanced at Arwen, seeing her concern mirrored in the elf's beautiful face. There was a stream nearby, so they filled their water bottles and cleaned Buffy's wound again. They could hear bone grinding together.
"We should try to set the bone, Aarion." Arwen said. "And I can steam some Athelas…"
"There's no time," Buffy said firmly. "When it gets dark again, we have to be far far away. If there are more of those wargs or that beast-thing, my arm will be the least of our worries. Just wrap it really tight." Reluctantly, they complied.
They wearily continued, quiet and subdued. Despite being white as a sheet and barely able to walk, Buffy pushed them on until well after dark, only stopping briefly to eat or rest. At last, her injuries caught up with her and she could go no further. They all collapsed in a grove of trees. Willow used the last of her powder to form small ring around them just in case. They lit a tiny fire just long enough for Arwen to boil water, then put it out. Willow placed a cloak over Buffy's head and had her lean over the steaming pot of athelas while they bathed her wound and packed some of the reconstituted plant inside. Her humerus was clearly broken, but there wasn't a lot they could do for it except try and keep her arm straight and the bones lined up. After rewrapping it snugly, they found a branch two inches in diameter and strapped Buffy's upper arm to it like a splint. It was uncomfortable and unwieldy, but they felt it was necessary to allow the bone to knit back together right. Willow helped her out of her blood-stained tunic and gasped. Buffy's entire mid-section was black and blue, and in several places she could see ribs jutting out just beneath the skin. She wrapped this area too, not knowing what else to do for it. After they ate, Willow sat down in front of her injured friend.
"OK, my turn to help heal you," she said.
"Wil, you can't do that. I did it for you cuz I've got all that extra slayer energy. If you gave me yours, it would really hurt you."
"That's not the plan," Willow replied. "Remember the first time you helped me? I was already working on healing myself using natural magicks. Not as effective, but it's better than nothing."
Arwen joined them. "Let me help," she said quietly. She got their candles and lit them as she'd been taught to do. Then she sat beside them and they all joined hands. They called down the elements and then asked for aid in healing their injured warrior. The energy crackled around them and then winked out. Arwen and Willow looked at Buffy curiously.
Wiggling her arm a little, she smiled slightly. "It's starting to heal."
"Should we try again?" Willow asked.
"Nah, the slayer package will kick in overnight and help out," Buffy replied. "Plus, we don't know much about the power we're tapping into. We should only use it when it's totally necessary."
"I know," Willow admitted. "I just get a little crazy when my people are hurt." Arwen offered to take the first watch, so they settled down together in the sleeping bags, Buffy's splinted arm sticking stiffly out to one side. The rest of the night passed uneventfully.
In four days, the bones in Buffy's arm finished knitting back together, as did her ribs. In seven, she was completely healed, and the only trace of injury was four small scars that marked the entrance and exit points of the beast's fang teeth. This week had also brought them out of the rocky hills and into more thickly and diversely forested terrain. One night, while they lay on their backs staring up at the stars, Buffy asked Arwen to finish her tale about the Balrog.
"Ooh, ghost story time!" Willow giggled as they sat up and crowded around the fire.
Arwen began to speak, her voice low and musical. "The Balrogs were servants of Morgoth in the First Age." At their questioning looks, she explained, "Morgoth is one of the Valar, but unlike the other Vala, he worships chaos and destruction. He had several Maia followers, including Sauron and the Balrogs. This Balrog, Durin's Bane, somehow survived the War of Wrath in the First Age, and took refuge in the depths of Khazad-dûm. Its presence went unnoticed for millennia until 1980 of the Third Age when the Dwarves mined too deep and awoke it. They tried to hold the great city, but many of them died and the rest were forced to flee. Khazad-dûm was renamed Moria, or 'black pit'." She fell silent.
"But what IS a Balrog?" Buffy was still confused.
"Shadow and flame," Arwen replied darkly, and they shivered despite the warmth of the night and the heat of the fire.
Willow was anxious to change the subject. "So, why'd you spend so long in Lórien?" she asked Arwen.
Arwen sighed thoughtfully. "I needed to get away from Imladris."
"From the place or the people?" asked Buffy.
"Both. You see, what I never told you about my mother is that my father completely healed her." Buffy and Willow looked surprised.
"Why did she leave then?" Willow wondered.
"It was the wound to her feä that never faded. She left because she could not escape the shadow on her heart."
"I'm so sorry," Buffy murmured.
"Adar was never the same. His long years of experience had left him mistrustful of all the other speaking races. And I was his prize jewel, Lúthien Tinúviel reborn. I was always very sheltered, even before my mother left. He tried to keep me ignorant of the world, so I would never try to leave. I was not allowed to wield a sword or bow. It only became worse when my brothers rebelled and left for longer periods of time to fight orcs or help the Dúnedain. He tried to keep me in a glass bubble. I was very angry with him, and often considered following my mother across the Sea. Finally, I told him I was traveling to Lórien with or without his aid. Given what had happened to my mother, he sent a caravan of fifty warrior elves and a chaperone with me. That was 300 years ago."
"Parents," Willow sighed sadly. "Mine, in contrast, probably haven't even noticed that I left the dimension yet. Makes you wonder if any of them get it right."
"My mom did," Buffy said softly. "She made lots of mistakes, namely marrying my loser, philandering father, but she mostly got it right. Until she died, that is." Then she brightened and nudged Arwen playfully, "Is Lórien where you learned how to kick ass with a bow?"
She smiled, "Actually, my brothers taught me in secret when we were young."
"So Lord Elrond probably doesn't know you're traveling home in a party of three," Willow commented.
"Galadriel told me that she would send word a fortnight after we left Lórien. She has birds that will carry her messages swiftly wherever she tells them to go. She did not tell Adar by what path we were traveling or how many are in our party. His riders will probably meet us when we get nearer to Imladris. I believe she timed it purposely that way so he would not be able to send a caravan."
"She's very crafty," Buffy grinned.
"Yes, I think she wanted me to have this small adventure."
"Some adventure," Buffy said remorsefully. "First you nearly topple off the cranky mountain, then we almost get eaten by wargs and a giant beastie of nonspecific origin."
"None of these things are your fault, Aarion. I chose this path, and you both have protected me every step of the way. You sacrificed your own safety to keep that beast away from us."
"Yeah, she has a bad habit of doing that," Willow grumbled.
"Adar needs to know about that creature, though," Arwen said thoughtfully. "I have never heard of anything like it, though I am not an expert in lore. It could be new, and my heart forebodes that it will be important ere long."
Buffy shivered. "Alright, let's forego the prophesy-speak until we're safely at Imladris."
Willow nodded sympathetically, "Prophecies and Buffy don't mix," she explained to Arwen.
"If there's an earthquake I'm outta here." They looked at her, amused. "I'm just sayin'."