Several days after Middle-earth apparently gained its newest legend when the Dark Lord of Mordor known as Sauron was destroyed, what remained of the Fellowship of the Ring along with several other people reunited in Minas Tirith to learn why all of them had been summoned here so peremptorily at such short notice.
This meeting didn't begin all that well, and only descended further into belligerent peevishness with every word snarled at the awestruck group being angrily yelled at by a young halfling female ready to complain as long as necessary if that's what it took:
"How many times do I have to tell all of you? I don't care about anything but going back home! It's not like I wanted to be here in the first place! All I expected after jumping through that stupid portal to save Dawn from Glory was dying when I hit the ground afterwards, but surprise, surprise! Instead of that, I wind up in some other world looking completely different and also juiced up way beyond the max with my Slayerness like it'd never been before! This has to be even more messing around with my life by those Powers That Be morons!"
Continuing to glower at everybody within range of her most unpleasant stare, the halfling went on at equal irascible volume already beginning to hurt all their ears, "I could tell right away I was supposed to save the day, landing in that crummy place with clear instructions inside my head on how to do it! Find those two guys, get some magicky ring off one of them, then throw the damn thing into a volcano which just happened to be close at hand! Well, I did it, so now you or someone else make with the major mojo to send me home...and I'd better look the same as I did before when I show up there again! THAT DEFINITELY DOESN'T MEAN BEING A HELL OF A LOT SHORTER NOW AND HAVING ENOUGH HAIR ON MY FEET TO NEED TRIMMING THEM WITH A WEED WHACKER!"
At that point when she started screaming those last baffling words while standing up on her chair seat at the far end of the castle table yet still having to look up at everyone, all of the listeners save two specific persons were unconsciously leaning back in their own chairs from that supremely shrill voice.
Standing on either side of Aragorn's position at the head of the table, Legolas and Gimli hadn't moved an inch. They also maintained their identical resigned expressions of repressed severe discomfort for which these Fellowship heroes had borne ever since painfully walking into the room behind the just-crowned King of Gondor.
Apparently, even though the exact reasons for this shared discomfort had been cautiously removed and disposed of yesterday by the finest healers Minas Tirith could provide, an elf and a dwarf still obviously regretted acting in such haste when a very strange rescuer showed up at the city along with the pair of hobbits she'd saved mere hours ago and carried all the way from Mordor, just before the Fellowship had been about to try their own hopeless attack against Sauron to divert attention away from Frodo and Sam.
To be fair, when she'd announced her presence by kicking down the temporary barricade put up to replace the Great Gate shattered by the battering ram Grond, Legolas and Gimli thought just like all there that this was a sneak attempt by Sauron to wipe out his enemies beforehand. So, naturally, they'd sallied forth together and met in battle a...girl. A halfling girl.
Who'd then in front of the entire watching city within the first five heartbeats of this extremely brief clash shoved her foes' weapons where Isil (for Legolas) and the Arkenstone (for Gimli) didn't shine.
That uncomfortable recollection might've been why a sudden silence descended among the room's occupants once the halfling female had finished her loud rant. The quiet went on for far too long, only to be interrupted by three people simultaneously arising from their chairs around the table. Giving each other measuring looks over what they'd all presumably decided at the same time, a mutual accord was established without another word.
Aragorn, Gandalf the White, and Lady Galadriel went down the room towards where the halfling was suspiciously watching this trio come nearer at every step.
*Better them than me,* inwardly thought Samwise Gamgee.
This hobbit from the Shire was quite happy to stay as far away as he could from that truly unbelievable lass still standing on her chair. Even for one of his diminutive race compared to the other peoples of Middle-earth, she couldn't be described as anything but 'petite.'
Though not right to her face, seeing as how Sam had seen very up close how this other hobbit had done nothing less than the inconceivable. Finding him and Master Frodo where they'd collapsed in total exhaustion at the bottom of Mount Doom, gently but firmly divesting that dratted One Ring from his friend, and then rushing with incredible speed up to that cave opening whose interior shone sullenly with the fires of molten rock from far below. She'd returned just as swiftly downhill, no longer possessing that deadly artifact, a moment or so before Mount Doom began to erupt.
Gathering up without any trouble at all the two male hobbits in her arms, the other halfling then ran with astonishing speed, right out of Mordor all the way to Minas Tirith. The only time she'd paused in her sprint had been the rather odd occurrence when three giant eagles came swooping down from the sky and tried to pick them all up in these birds' talons.
When several impressively thrown rocks done by whom Frodo and Sam eventually learned was 'Buffy' drove off with various annoyed squawks made by the eagles throughout that absurd course of events, she'd resumed her journey with the bewildered males. Once again impressively carrying the other hobbits, Sam and Frodo again became numb throughout their lengthy dash except for concentrating on hanging on without putting their hands anywhere near Buffy's tiny body where this surely wouldn't be appreciated.
Only when they arrived at Minas Tirith did Sam finally find the chance afterwards to wonder about Gollum or Smeagol or whatever that horrible thing's name actually was, left behind at Mount Doom. Considering that you could still see from the city walls what was left of that volcano's constant eruption a hundred leagues away, this little sneak was now probably under a dozen yards of slowly-cooling lava. Not that Sam particularly wanted or bothered to discuss it with anyone, even Master Frodo. One way or the other, Gollum must've found his 'Precioussss' again, so who cared?
That left one last thing, how Buffy really yearned to return to her far-away home as what she'd earlier crankily described as her usual form of a young Big Folk lady. Sam nodded to himself while watching how three people now stopped before that same girl. Even if Aragorn couldn't do anything himself but offer what other help he might provide, surely the Lady Galadriel and Gandalf combined could use their magical powers to succeed in that. Now, if only Buffy would gracefully accept their assistance-
Beadily eyeing those latest nuts in this totally lunatic asylum place, Buffy snapped at no one in particular, "I don't like you already. You know why? You're tall. So, the first thing you better say is how fast I'm gonna leave, or it won't end well for any of you!"
Hearing that, Sam facepalmed himself, and sighed in exasperation.
Another sigh, but bearing an entirely different emotion, came from next to where that hobbit was at the table. Looking over in sudden surprise at Master Frodo, Sam now saw on his friend's face a look of...adoration?
Following Frodo's gaze, an appalled Sam saw this infatuated expression was directed at where Buffy had just received some obviously unwelcome news. She reacted by immediately grabbing Gandalf's beard and started yanking his head up and down like a fisherman's bobbing float, all while at the same time baring her teeth in fury at the Lady Galadriel and also using her free hand to make a decidedly obscene gesture at where Aragorn had began to reach for his sword.
Prudently recollecting what Legolas and Gimli had undergone yesterday with the total loss of their dignity and reputations, he who'd once called himself Strider took his own hand away from the reforged weapon and casually examined the castle ceiling instead.
"Isn't she wonderful?" breathed Frodo without looking over at where Sam was gaping at him.
Oh, no. No, no, no, no! Master Frodo had never shown any great interest in any of the hobbit lassies back at the Shire, but now?
Sinking back into his chair with a muffled whimper covered up by the ensuing uproar proceeding at the far end of the table, Samwise Gamgee began to understand that very soon he'd be looking back with wistful longing about his prior experiences only a day before in Mordor. There, every second had the prospect of a dreadful death which was still far better than what a poor, innocent hobbit faced at this very moment who didn't deserve all the much more tremendous trouble inexorably coming his way at present.
Buffy and Frodo.
Middle-earth was doomed.