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First Knight

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Summary: Buffy gets 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’s to help the King of Gondor get on his throne.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Lord of the Rings > Buffy-Centered > Pairing: AragornAshaDreamweaverFR1557430,615170578460,08023 Jul 047 Jul 06No
CoA Winner

A Girl From A Different World

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?

A/N: This is set during BtVS season 7 and covers some of Aragorn’s earlier years as well as the War of the Ring adventures.
Buffy Season 7: set just after Dawn, Buffy’s friends, Giles and the Potentials kick Buffy out of her house, telling her that they want Faith in charge and that she is not wanted anymore.

P.S: - This is the revised version.


CHAPTER ONE: A GIRL FROM A DIFFERENT WORLD


“‘Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die…
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.”
-Ulysses by Alfred Lord Tennyson


The Vineyard, Sunnydale, CA



As Buffy touched the magnificent scythe, pulling it from the stone even as Caleb raced through the trap door to stop her, she felt the cool metal heat up under her fingers and a sense of power rush through her veins, along with an instinctive knowledge that this was hers. She felt powerful, strong enough to take on Caleb and kick his butt for a change. Turning to face her enemy with a slow smirk spreading across her face, fully ready to kick his very annoying ass out of her town, no one was more surprised than she was when the weapon of the slayer, her very own birthright, began to glow of its own accord, encasing its wielder in mere moments.

Eyes round and goggling, Buffy saw the shimmering glow encase her with growing dismay. Desperately, she tried to drop the scythe, forgetting all about Caleb, but some force would not let her and with a feeling very akin to terror beginning to spread through her, she vanished from the wine cellar with no warning, leaving Caleb to stare at the spot where she had once been.


xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


Buffy’s next memory was waking up very disorientated, lying on a white marble floor. Clutching her pounding head, she dragged herself up onto her elbows and since her head was not swimming too badly, she proceeded to get to her feet. With a long suffering air of ‘why me?’, she studied the room she found herself in. It was very large and absolutely everything was made from white marble. God, which idiot had been the decorator? she wondered, looking around for someone who could tell her what was going on or else someone she could pulverise. Either was good.

A familiar voice from behind her caused her to jump and spin around, “Hello again Slayer,” Whistler said cheerfully. “A right mess you’ve got yourself in this time, eh?”

“Whistler?!” Buffy growled, hands clenching into fists, “What are you doing here? And speaking of that, where is here?” she demanded, gesturing to the expansive room.

“You’re currently a… guest of the Powers.” Whistler said, eyeing the livid blonde somewhat cautiously, “They sent me to speak to you about a certain proposition they have and the choice that lies before you.”

“Oh please, not with the cryptic again!” Buffy ground out, trying to decide whether it would be worth it or not to wring Whistler’s scrawny little neck, “I’ve had too much of that already! Do you even know that I was so about to kick Caleb’s ass?! Finally! And you made me miss that!”

The balance demon just glared at her, “This is a matter of life and death you know. The least that could be expected from you is a little respect here!”

Buffy picked up the scythe and absently played with it, manfully resisting the urge to take Whistler to pieces with it. “Fine, say your piece so I can get to the bit where I rip your ribcage out.”

“Buffy,” Whistler said seriously, “The Powers have sent me here with a proposal for you.”

“Sounds ominous. Not that they’ve been much help lately.” she replied flippantly.

“Buffy, listen to me. They are offering to get rid of the First for you.” he said, perfectly seriously.

The Slayer immediately went shock still. Eyes as wide as saucers locked onto Whistler’s, “What?!”

“If you swear allegiance to them, they’ll make sure the First is dealt with.” he replied, leaning against a stone pillar while the slayer regained her composure.

“Swear allegiance to them?” she hissed, “What the hell do you mean by that? I’m already the slayer. Isn’t that enough for them? Or perhaps they take the Watchers’ Council’s view of me kowtowing to them? ‘Cos it isn’t going to happen. Now, what do I have to kill for you to accept that? Mess with someone else’s life. You don’t own me.”” Buffy exclaimed in a combination of frustration and anger.

“Buffy, the only reason the First chose now to attack was because of an unforeseen event. You weren’t supposed to sacrifice yourself for Dawn but you did.” he explained patiently, “But then your witch friends brought you back and disrupted the balance and the First took its only opportunity to get free. Don’t you see? Your resurrection allowed the First to break free…”

“You mean the First is only here because of me?” Buffy said, reeling. Had all this been her fault? All those girls dead and dying?

“Yes, your watcher knew but chose not to tell you. If they hadn‘t brought you back, the First could never have crossed into this plane.”

“So how does it stop? Do I die again or what?” Buffy demanded, growing increasingly upset. How on earth was she going to fix this? Was it not bad enough that she was torn out of heaven, out of this world where fate ensured that she fought for her life every day, but now she had to help destroy this world too? Could she ever do anything right?

“No, you can’t go back to where you were. You’re needed elsewhere.” Whistler said somewhat sadly, fiddling with his atrocious brown hat.

“Huh?”

“A friend of mine will explain everything to you. I’m sorry to say that you don’t really have a choice in the matter. It’s a pity; I always thought you had spunk kid.”

“Wait!” Buffy cried as he walked away, hurrying to catch up, “Where are you going? What’s going to happen?! You cannot just tell me something like that and then up and leave!”

“Slayer, someone’s got to explain to your friends.” Disappearing into some hidden door, Whistler left Buffy standing there; her mind reverberating with the implications of Whistler’s words.

How on earth was she supposed to fix this?


xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


A melodious voice from behind startled her once more, and within a second, she and the scythe were in a defensive position, ready to lop someone’s head off. God knew she needed to vent some steam. “I mean no harm,” the person said but Buffy just gaped at him. Her slayer senses were warning her that whoever this was was not human, not in the slightest, but strangely enough, they seemed quite content. There wasn’t anything screaming ‘danger’ like when she sensed a demon. In fact, if she didn’t know better her senses seemed to consider him pretty much harmless. But just by looking at the way he moved, she could tell he was a deadly fighter and in her opinion, most things that weren’t human wanted her dead and so she resolved to be on her guard.

He was perhaps one of the strangest things she had ever seen in her varied career as a slayer. He looked so utterly perfect it was eerie; she could not make out a single scar at all. He seemed to possess an almost otherworldly beauty that she hadn’t ever seen before. It almost gave her the creeps.

The man was tall, over six foot, with glossy long dark hair with two locks at the front held back in braids, pale skinned and with pointy ears. He almost seemed to glow a little too, though that could have been the weird lighting. It wasn’t as if the Powers were above trying to appear more impressive and all knowing by using parlour tricks. And let’s not forget to mention the fact that he’s wearing some mighty impressive armour, Buffy thought sarcastically. If she had to fight him, that was going to cause all sorts of trouble. “Who are you?” Buffy asked menacingly, lifting her weapon, “And species would be nice to know as well Mr. Medieval.”

He laughed. Buffy glared harder. “So you are the Vampire Slayer,” he said with a trace of amusement, “I had expected someone… bigger.”

Buffy had a most annoying flashback to her first time meeting Angel, her ensouled vampire of an ex-boyfriend and his remark that she hadn’t been what he expected either. “Look,” she said with more patience than she really felt, “I’m angry, tired and my home has turned into a battlefield. I’ve also had a most unpleasant conversation with a guy who can’t talk without the cryptic. Now you’re here, Mr I’m-not-human-but-are-probably-a-closet-Star-Trek-fan, insulting my height and making me very annoyed. So if you have something to say, you’d better do it real snappy before I introduce my new toy to you,” she said, brandishing the wickedly curved blade.

“The Valar were right,” Mr Medieval said, eying her in a most disconcerting way. She glared right back; there was a hint of authority in his voice that told her he was used to ordering people around and considering he was supposed to be Whistler’s ‘friend’, she wasn’t altogether inclined to trust his word on anything. “You’re perfect for the job.”

“Job? What job? And who the heck are the Valar? And backing up buddy, I still haven’t got your name.” she said, waving the blade for emphasis.

He gave a small little half-bow, “I, my lady slayer, am Ereinion Gil-galad, last High King of the Noldor in Middle Earth. I see Whistler neglected your education. If you do not know, I am one of the Elder.” Seeing her puzzled look, he sighed and elaborated, “An Elf. And you know the Valar as the Powers That Be.”

“An Elf?” Buffy repeated incredulously, “Like in Santa’s little helpers? A little on the big side aren’t we? Plus feudalism kinda died out a century ago. And I’ve never heard of this ‘Middle Earth’. Might you want to stop lying already?”

He shook his head in confusion, “I do not know this ‘Santa’ of which you speak Lady. I am only here as the Valar’s emissary in a matter of great importance.”

“Right. Let me guess, Whistler’s friend?”

He grimaced slightly, “Acquaintance only, I assure you.”

“Okay, what do you want then? I do want to get home some time today you know.” she said huffily, tapping her foot in annoyance.

“I am afraid Lady, that it is highly unlikely you will return to your home again.” he said, taking a step closer.

“What?! Oh come on, you can’t keep me here forever you know. I am the Slayer. I do have a job to do. And some friends I would like to get back to!” Buffy cried.

“I was sent here to talk to you and talk to you I shall.” he insisted authoritively.

Buffy eyed him suspiciously, “I’m not going to get anywhere till I listen to your little speech am I?” A half smile was her only answer. “Fine, talk. Don’t expect me to pay too much attention though.” she answered airily.

“Whistler has spoken to you about the First yes?” After a nod from her, Gil-galad continued, “Your revival from death released the First, but your death will not send it back. But a re-alignment of the slayer line will.”

“What do you mean?” Buffy asked, curious despite herself.

“The First can’t be destroyed Slayer, but it can be contained.” His bright gaze pinned hers and she somehow knew that he spoke the truth. Call it intuition, she supposed. “The Slayer Faith must be made the sole slayer in this world. She must restore the line of inheritance between the slayers. But you stand in the way of this. As I said, your death will not fix things. But your transferral will.”

“Transferral?” Buffy asked, not liking the way this was going.

“You are, like it or not, a champion of the Valar. If your death will solve nothing, then they have decided you must come to my world and leave your own behind.”

“Okay! Now you’re talking crazy. I’m not going anywhere!”

Gil-galad wasn’t fazed, “And would you rather your friends to die? Because they will if the First is not stopped. Already they have suffered much, have rejected you. Would you not welcome the chance for a new life, free from the shackles of constant hunting, of being one of the few who holds back the darkness? Do you not want a better life? ”

Buffy could not deny the temptation of what he offered but stood firm, “Real life is not like that. And I have responsibilities… Dawn….”

“Your fake sister? It is a stretch to call her kin at all. And has she not rejected you? Turned her back on you? She has no loyalty to you, and her fate is not to be in your hands. It lies elsewhere. As does yours.”

“Yeah well Mr Hotshot King, you’re talking a lot of nonsense and my patience is running out over here. Don’t make me kick your ass back to Bottom Earth or wherever you came from.”

“It is called Middle Earth. Though I do not dwell there anymore. And it needs the help of a slayer. A war is coming. One that if the side of good loses, it shall never recover from. You are needed there.”

Buffy smiled annoyingly, “And you’re delusional.”

In the blink of an eye, even before her enhanced senses could register it, he was across the room and holding her by the arms, armour clinking gently as he shook her. His grip was so strong; she could literally feel bruises beginning to develop. “Will you not listen to a word I say?!” he exclaimed, his ancient gaze trying to sear through her as he towered over her, “You are dead if you stay! All your friends, dead! Your town destroyed! The slayer line obliterated! The Valar have a most generous proposal for you, you who has shattered so many of their plans so badly as to render them useless! If you go against the First, it will win and you will lose. And your friends shall perish with you. They will guarantee that the First will be thrown back into the abyss and that your friends and the one you claim as sister will live and will be protected from Caleb’s wrath. Your part of the bargain will be to journey to Middle Earth to help in the Dark Lord Sauron’s fall.”

“Sauron?” she enquired but he silenced her with a well-aimed glare.

“Hush and listen. That will be explained later. You will not have to confront him directly. Indeed, you are forbidden from it. Sauron is not one whom a lone warrior can kill and his armies are not to be taken lightly. There are two you must protect above all; the ringbearer - be quiet, you will find out the details later - and the Heir of Isildur, High King of Gondor, who you must help regain his throne. You are to aid those fated either to bring about Sauron’s final fall or to die in the war against him. Only time will tell which will occur. You do this for the Valar and in return, they will grant the boon I have mentioned.”

Buffy wrenched herself out of his hold, “So what you’re saying is that if I don’t agree, me and my friends are dead?!” It came out in a half-sob which she fiercely tried to repress, and which the Elf didn‘t comment on. This was rather lucky for him, because she would have whacked him over the head with the scythe if he had. “My, what choice. But then again the Powers were never known for their sense of decency or fair play now, were they? I mean, they were just so generous giving me their little ‘choice’! What choice?! I have none! So they just expect me to go skipping off to this other dimension just because they say so?!”

His voice was soft but firm and slightly pitying, “You will do so because it is your duty. And the only chance you have to escape the misery that is life as the Vampire Slayer and ultimately, escape their fate.”

She acknowledged his words with a nod but an expression of deep bitterness and anger was clear to see on her face. “I gave my life for them twice and this is my reward. It sucks beyond belief.”

“That is often the way of things.” he agreed. “I too died. I fell fighting Sauron.”

“Then how come you’re standing here buddy?” she asked.

“Because the Oracles are dead, Whistler is busy helping to save your friends and it is my cousin who will receive you in Middle Earth.”

“Cousin?”

“The Lady Galadriel, ruler of the Elven realm of Lothlórien. She will accept you into the Golden Wood and tell you all you need to know for your new life.”

“Simple as that, huh? And how exactly will dear old me be getting there? And what about my friends?”

“Whistler will inform them of your death defeating the First. Once gone, you cannot return. It is better that they think you dead, than mourn you as lost. And as for getting there, you will go through a portal specially made for you. I think you will like my cousin; she is very wise and sees much. And the Golden Wood is very beautiful.”

“So when do I go? Do I get to say goodbye first or see my friends or something?” Buffy asked somewhat tearfully.

Gil-galad looked at her in one of his rare moments of prescience, “You will do well in Middle Earth. I think once you are settled you will be happy there and you will do more good than you know. But to more practical matters. You leave… now.”

A blinding portal erupted in front of her and Buffy looked to Gil-galad, “Wait! Don’t I get to see my friends?!”

“I’m sorry Slayer, you must go now. Don’t worry for those who love, they will be well taken care of.” He gave her a push into the portal and the last thing Buffy heard was him wishing her good luck.


xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


Third Age 2070. Lothlórien.


Buffy landed on her back with a thump, a string of not so complimentary words on her lips and her vow to take that Elf to pieces if she ever saw him again. The grass stains on her clothes did not improve her mood either.

“A star shines on the hour of our meeting Buffy Summers,” a musical voice addressed her from behind. “Welcome to the Golden Wood.”

Buffy turned to look but had to turn away as the glowing figure approached, blinding the slayer. When she looked again, she saw a tall, regal woman (or was it Elf? Couldn’t they at least have told her something useful before, oh, she didn’t know, tossing her into a portal!) with shining blonde hair that fell to her waist, a long white dress and impossibly intent blue eyes that were currently trying to see through Buffy.

“Um, hi?” the slayer tried, getting to her feet and belatedly trying to wipe the grass stains off of her clothes. God, did she feel short. She hoped all the Elves weren’t this big. “You wouldn’t be Mr. Me… um, sorry Gil-galad’s cousin by any chance, would you?”

“Yes, I am Galadriel, Lady of the Golden Wood.” She replied, making no secret of the fact that she was studying the new arrival.

Buffy nodded, “Okay, glad to have got that cleared up. You wouldn’t mind filling me in a bit on what exactly I’m supposed to be doing here would you? Your cousin, ever so kindly, decided to go with the ‘let’s-toss-Buffy-through-a-portal-with-no-explanations’ method of getting me here.”

Galadriel laughed, high and tinkling like a silver bell. Buffy was starting to feel a little out of her depth here. After all, she was stuck in a strange new world with someone who was clearly very powerful. And laughing at her. Let’s not forget that. Did she mention that she was starting to get really annoyed too?

“Come little slayer,” she said, ignoring the way Buffy bristled at the term ‘little’, “We have much to talk about and then much to see.”

Buffy followed her retreating figure as the Elf Lady made her way back to the forest where Buffy seemed to have been deposited. The further they walked, the more Buffy’s jaw dropped. Lothlórien was probably the most spectacularly beautiful place she had ever seen. The trees were huge with silver bark and golden leaves. She could already see where this place got its nickname.

As they reached the heart of the realm and its city, which Galadriel said was called Caras Galadhon, more and more Elves could be seen. All tall, all devastatingly pretty and all staring at her; this little human girl following their Lady into one of the most heavily guarded realms in Middle Earth.

Galadriel stopped at a huge tree, and turned to her companion. “I hope you are not afraid of heights, for all our dwellings are in the trees.”

In the trees? Surely, she couldn’t mean….

Buffy looked up and could make out the shapes of what looked like very big, very elaborate tree houses. And Galadriel wanted her to follow her up there? Oh boy. Giving the she-Elf a wan smile, she grabbed the rope that seemed too flimsy to support her weight and began to climb.

She followed her guide into a richly decorated room, high in the enormous boughs of the tree, and sat down in the seat Galadriel gestured to. “I know you have many questions,” the Lady began, “And I will try and answer as many as I can. But first I must begin with dark tidings, and tell you of the enemy of the Free Peoples of Middle Earth, who is once more in ascension.”

“This Sauron guy, right?” Buffy said, leaning back into the surprisingly comfortable seat.

“Yes, he is the Dark Lord and wields terrible power.” Galadriel went on to explain about the Rings of Power and most importantly, the One Ring, which had been considered lost for many years but that few among the wise believed to be truly gone. After giving her a quick run-down on the ways and peoples of Middle Earth, Galadriel grew more sombre, “And now we turn to the matters that are yours to handle. And to inform you of your place in this world. You did not come here unchanged.”

“Don’t tell me the portal fried my circuits again, ‘cos that’s really annoying.” Buffy said, folding her arms across her chest, “Or is this one of Whistler’s annoying tricks where it’s like open season on Buffy?”

Galadriel shook her golden head, “I do not understand your speech Slayer. But I shall clarify things, the Valar have decided that you need aid when it comes to locating and helping your charges. And so they have gifted upon you the Sight. But beware; it is not something to be taken lightly.”

“The sight?” Buffy asked, cocking her head to the side.

“Some Elves are gifted with foresight, I myself am one of them, and they have extended that same gift to you, even though you have no Elven blood within you.”

Buffy nodded, taking it in her stride, “It’s not going to interfere with my slaying is it? Because I think it might be quite inconvenient if I ‘saw’ something while fighting.”

“That is up to you Slayer.” Galadriel answered enigmatically. “But now to explain what your charges are…”

“Oh goody,” Buffy muttered sarcastically but the Elf only shot her an amused look.

“You are not to strike at Sauron directly, you have not the strength. But you are to make sure that if the One Ring is found, it must be kept in safe hands until it is destroyed. I know not how its lure would affect a slayer, but I fear it would gather a strong hold on you ere long due to your familiarity with the dark things in the world. Do you understand my warning?”

Buffy did, all too well. “Yes, it’s going to think I’m one of the bad guys if what you said about it having a mind of its own is true. I’ll try not to do a Faith.”

“And now to your second agenda, the Heir of Isildur is the only one who can unite the race of Men, who at the moment stand divided and leaderless, old alliances broken and with not enough strength whilst separate to hold back the Dark Lord’s forces. Consequently he must survive until it is time for him to claim his throne.” Galadriel broke off and stood up, beginning to pace slowly, “He does not want the burden. He does not think he is worthy. Aragorn, Arathorn’s son, is a stubborn man but he will do what is right. You must help him gain his throne and keep him alive until the true war begins.”

“Sounds great.” Buffy remarked, “What am I? His personal bodyguard?” she said, getting angrier, “Did they really have to drag me away from my home because I have to baby-sit some guy?!”

Galadriel locked her bright gaze onto Buffy’s, something Buffy was really starting to hate about Elves, “No, you are here to help Middle Earth. This is to be your home for the rest of your days. I would hope that you would not wish to be under Sauron’s rule, more than any other creature in Middle Earth, save those that have served him in the past.”

“I fought for seven years to keep my town safe. It got blown up, threatened with apocalypses and hit with all sorts of nasty things,” the slayer replied wearily, blonde hair falling to cover her face as her shoulders drooped, “Friends of mine died. I died! Then, suddenly I’m told that I will never see again because of some whim of the stupid Powers! What’s fair about that?! Don’t go lecturing me on responsibility because I already have enough of it!” Buffy cried.

Galadriel was sympathetic but firm, “To be a slayer is to be alone. You should be grateful for the chance to have such friends, even if only for a while. It was more than what your predecessors had.”

“Thanks so much for that, she-Travers. So how am I to find this Aragorn, son of Arathorn guy?” she asked brokenly.

“He is a ranger. The Chieftain of the Dunedáin. Find the rangers and inevitably, you will meet him. From there, it is, again, up to you. But that course, whilst easiest, would take too much time for Aragorn has been abroad in Rohan and Gondor for many years as the man called Thorongil and currently he is in Gondor, serving as a captain in the Gondorian army under its Steward, Ecthelion II. We will help you get there. Do not worry.”

The Elf Queen crossed over to the distraught slayer, “Do not be sad Buffy. One life has passed, a chance for a new one lies before you. And in this venture, you will always have the help of the Elves, and shelter under these boughs. Come; let me introduce you to the wonders of the Golden Wood and the River Nimrodel.”

Buffy stared at her for a long while, trying to figure her out but despite her efforts, could detect no lies. And so Buffy followed her lead into the new life promised to her.


xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx


She stayed with the Elves of Lothlórien for four months, learning the ways of her new land and the Elvish customs that most rangers at least knew of, as well as learning the new styles of fighting and the use of the new (or old to her mind) weaponry used there. The Elvish longbows posed huge problems to one of her height as most of the Elves had a foot over her in height and none of their spare bows were suited to her, being too big.

She was known as to friend to Galadriel, and that title meant an almost immediate respect from the other Elves who revered her as the most powerful she-Elf. Of course, Buffy ran into trouble almost immediately. She could not tell them of her task because it would only get back to the Aragorn guy, so only Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel knew her true purpose here. To everyone else she was just a wannabe ranger.

And as Celeborn so aptly proved upon her introduction to him, she was a constant source of confusion to them. Especially her name.

“Buff-ee? That is a strange name my Lady.” Celeborn had said as he tried to pronounce her name with some difficulty.

“Well, it was a spur of the moment thing according to my mother.” Buffy shrugged. The Elven Lord hadn’t been any clearer about its origins after that ‘explanation’ and when Galadriel said that like her purpose, her name would be a little… out of place and that she would be gifted with an Elvish one for an alias. Celeborn had only been too happy to think of one, if only to save him from pronouncing her real one, as like all the Elves, he seemed to have a great difficulty saying something so unsophisticated so instead of Buffy she was ‘Lady Aralle’ meaning ‘girl from outside’ or ‘stranger’.

Buffy was surprisingly happy in the Golden Wood but the day came when Galadriel, her newfound friend, summoned her to the mirror grove and she knew that the peaceful days of training and fighting with her other friend Haldir, were coming to an end. Time with the Elves had changed her, made her more prone to just thinking as the Firstborn indulged their love for songs she couldn’t understand and she’d had a crash course in Sindarin and ‘proper’ etiquette but Galadriel had called her there to tell her it was time to go back to the world of Men.

“Buffy, it is time.” Galadriel said, confirming her suspicions, “Aragorn fights in the wars of Gondor and will need your aid. I have talked with my daughter’s husband, Elrond, Lord of the Elven realm of Rivendell, and we have both agreed that the best way for you to get close enough to Aragorn to help is to go in as a healer. In times of war, they are always needed and it shall enable you to move with the army without suspicion or undue censure.”

“But I don’t know how to heal wounds! Inflict them, yes! Heal, no!” Buffy exclaimed.

She held up a hand to stop Buffy’s protestations, “Elrond has agreed to teach you. You will spend the next few months with him, learning the craft.”

“What fun,” Buffy commented dryly, already envisioning her most likely spectacular failure in such a venture. “Oh hell, I’m not going to be graded am I?!”

“You must leave tomorrow and so I took the liberty of having some things prepared for you. For one thing, you cannot leave the safety of these borders without having weapons and so I had some made for you.” The Lady gestured to a nearby stone table upon which the aforementioned weapons lay and Buffy felt her breath catch.

Like all slayers, she was partial to weapons. The deadlier the better. But one thing she’d found and liked about Elven craftsmanship was that they were both deadly and pretty and so she’d coveted them ever since she’d first seen them. Galadriel had given was a long knife of Mithril with her given-name Aralle, written on the handle in scrolling gold script and an inscription was engraved onto the blade, which Galadriel translated for her as Buffy had had only time to learn a rudimentary form of Tengwar, the Elvish script. ‘Gûd daedheloth, Dagnir i thang im’ was written, meaning ‘Foe of Morgoth’s Realm, the Slayer of the enemy throng I am.’

Next to it was a sword, again of Elvish make and in the Elvish style, meant for those who could move fast enough to swing the long blade round in viciously quick movements for maximum damage and it’s hilt was long enough to allow for either a one-handed or two-handed grip. Buffy swung it around experimentally and was absurdly pleased with it, compared to the other more inferior swords she had used in the past. If only she had had this sword when fighting Angelus, she wouldn’t have come so close to losing.

The last weapon was one of the banes of her existence, a bow and a quiver full of arrows. She’d longed for a crossbow but had been informed by Haldir that that particular weapon was more commonly used by Easterlings and unless she wanted the rangers she would meet to shoot her on sight, she had better find an alternative. Ergo, the bow. But this one was of a size to suit her and she had seen all too well how far Lórien arrows could go.

The last gift was held in Galadriel’s hands, a short coat of mail to be worn under her over-tunic and upon taking it, Buffy found it to be lighter than it looked. “It was my daughter Celebrían’s,” she explained, “She has sailed West and has no need for it anymore.”

Buffy thanked her profusely for the gifts but the Lady only smiled and laughed at her. “You are like a child at times Aralle,” she teased. “Now go to Haldir and say your farewells as you leave soon. And a bag of clothes and provisions has been left in your talan. Fare ye well, young slayer. The dreams will come to you tonight.”

In her excitement to show off her new toys to one soon to be ambushed Marchwarden, she did not take any notice of the Lady’s last words.


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That night, she slept restlessly, plagued by some unknown demons. And in her dreams, she saw a great war and a beautiful white city being laid siege to by some of the most hideous creatures she’d had the misfortune to see, but had fought and slain some of their kind under Haldir’s tutelage, the Orcs.

She saw villages being slaughtered, saw a fiery mountain and a desolate land and she saw a golden ring, with letters like fire on the band and last of all, she saw a man. Heir of Isildur, rightful King of Gondor and the man she’d been sent there to protect…

A man, who in her dreams, was dying….


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A/N:
Please review! Pretty please? Feedback of all kinds welcomed. Please give me some response! This fic is pretty much planned out but let me know whether you want me to continue it or not! Please?
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