Fan Fiction ❯ Shattered Reflections ❯ The Gift Of Song. ( Chapter 3 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Author's Notes: If you wish to know more about me as an author, please visit my profile page :-)

I am surprised at the great response I've received from everyone! I am so glad that many are enjoying the pace and content I have established for this story.


Thanks to: Mama T, Discord, NoLifeKing, Myri78, zephyrRS, Philo, Allen Pitt (I'm not sure if they could, a palantir can only be used in accordance with other seeing stones, and I'm afraid that all of the remaining seeing stones are in Middle-earth... Thanks for reviewing!), Chaz1964, Renna (I wish to keep the pairing obscure for the moment, but don't worry there will be someone... hehe; thanks for reviewing!I), magicharm, onlimain, annon, lucky_Ann, Silme Greenleaf, rcagua, Amy Lee (I completely agree with you! I absolutely cringe when I read some fanfiction that forget Elves are incredibly beautiful beings and have the characters interact as though they were 'normal' I certainly wouldn't behave that way, that's for sure! I'm glad you're enjoying this so far, thanks for the review!) Alassante and Sirannon. Thank you all so much; I love feedback!




< i>Previously....



"I can sense it–you're strength," she said, more to herself.



Haldir frowned slightly, "And how do you sense this?"



She shrugged lightly, "Intuition, the way you hold yourselves."



"Ah," Haldir said, enlightened but still not satisfied with her answer. One thing was clear–she was hiding something from them, something she did not wish for them to know.



The break in the trees came into view in the distance and with his superior hearing, he could barely hear the grumblings of Legolas' dwarf companion. What he did not know, was that the woman that walked between himself and the Prince, could also hear the Dwarf's deep, gravely voice.




A small frown marred her pale face as she quietly listened to the deep guttural voice speak. It was grainy and hard, nothing like Haldir's or Legolas'–and for that, she was confused. Somehow, it didn't fit with the revered image she held of the Elves. Their beauty was far too refined for one of them to have such an abrasive, harsh voice. Whoever the Elf was, she felt mildly sorry for them–but for a reason unknown to her, she found the voice far more comforting than the lyrical pitch of the two Elves beside her.



As she pondered this thought, a gust of wind blew through her hair; she sniffed the air delicately and grimaced. She reeked–terribly. In the company of these two Elves, she felt incredibly inadequate. She had once thought of herself as quite pretty, not overtly beautiful–but slightly above average. However, walking beside the two Elves, she felt and most probably looked, more like a rag than a woman standing next to them. And those thoughts only served to make her more uncomfortable–and when she was uncomfortable, she fidgeted.



Her eyes wandered down to the bruised fingers of her hand that played with the soiled, black clothing, clinging to her small frame.



The ebony skirt was at a modest length, reaching to the middle of her calves and the airy black sweater covered her neck and arms decently. The sandals on her feet were another matter however–they were awkward and painful, as she continued to walk briskly between the two, overly tall Elves. They gave her some much needed height, but they were still rather impractical for outdoor trekking.



She sighed, wondering why her friends could not have left her in peace.



For some strange reason, as she observed the Elves clothing, she knew that this world's style and beliefs would be very different to the ones she had back home. Their clothing looked ancient, like that had just stepped off of a film set from the Medieval times. But there was something magical about them–something mystical that she could not quite pinpoint.



And they were carrying weapons.



Real weapons.



These had caught her eye immediately, as her Slayer vision could determine with expertise that they had been crafted with a great skill. Even their weaponry was more beautiful than hers. But as long as they did not turn and use those weapons on her, she had no problem with them carrying such deadly items.



Although, she would be lying if she said she didn't want to touch Haldir's carved bow, or Legolas' shimmering, jewelled knives. It was as if the weapons were humming, calling out to her–and she idly wondered how they would feel in her hands...



As they neared the path that Haldir had spoken of, Buffy found herself frowning even more deeply.



Ashamed to admit it, she had thought that the path the larger Elf had spoken of, would have resembled a yellow brick road, like the one in Oz. Perhaps she was asking for too much, but she certainly felt like Dorothy on an adventure–only less clean, shorter and with a very high pain tolerance. That and the ridiculous fact that she was being escorted by Elves and not a scarecrow or lion.



Much to her disappointment, the path was not even a proper path.



No yellow bricks, no fallen houses, no Oz–it was simply another way through the endless trees, with branches and leaves littering the earthy, moist ground. Still, even though she could not remember the name, the forest was undeniably beautiful.



The sounds of a scuffle caught her attention.



Her eyes widened as she saw a short man–shorter than her–with a bushy beard and dangerous brown eyes, wave an axe precariously close to the face of, what Buffy could only believe, was another, stunning Elf. Only this Elf had dark black hair that resembled the deep onyx blanket of the night sky.



Haldir had been right–all Elves possessed equal beauty; their inner light radiated such warmth and love, that she was continually left feeling breathless every time she laid her eyes upon their luminescent forms.



From her position, she could clearly see that the dark-haired Elf was goading the shorter man into fight, which was abruptly dispelled by another silvery-blonde haired Elf. Who resembled Haldir in height and body mass, but his eyes–his eyes seemed to be more softer and open than that of the Elf standing beside her.



She chanced a glance at her two companions and saw that Haldir was barely holding back his chuckles, whilst Legolas was glowering. Though the mirth in his eyes could not be hidden from her sharp gaze.



As they stepped onto the so-called path, all the Elves turned towards them, silent and unassuming. The shorter man had also given up his threatening stance as he turned and gazed up at her.



All six of Haldir's company openly stared and gaped at the small woman standing between the two Elves. Their bewildered expressions gave way to concern, curiosity and lastly, distrust and suspicion which were quickly hidden away with chivalry, before she could discern their thoughts on her arrival.



She cleared her throat under her breath, feeling more nervous than what she had been on her first day of high-school.




L egolas stepped forward to the gathered Elves and Dwarf, to introduce the young woman that now stood amidst them.



"Lady Buf-ii, these are our travelling companions; Elladan and Elrohir, both sons of Lord Elrond of Imladris," he said as he gestured to the only two dark-haired Elves, who looked exactly identical, that she could not tell them apart–unless she looked closely into their eyes. But she was afraid that she did not have the will nor strength to gaze at their dangerously beautiful, veiled expressions.



As Legolas spoke, Buffy but her lip and nodded apprehensively, causing the group of males to rouse from their stupor at the sight of her.



Elladan and Elrohir gathered their manners and bowed, still dazed from the vision of the incredibly tiny, and perhaps rather frail-looking female, standing before them. They shifted on their feet to accomodate her shorter size.



"And these two Elves are Orophin and Rúmil, brothers to Haldir and sons of Belegorn–a mighty and brave warrior in his time," Legolas continued.



Both of Haldir's brothers also bowed to her, touching their brows in a formal greeting, with barely hidden curiosity at her arrival.



At the mention of his father, Haldir had felt a small twitch in his lips at the praise the Prince had given his parent. As a son, Haldir could never have asked for a better father than his own, now gone into the West with his mother. He would rejoice on the day of their reunion upon the shores of Valinor–he could hardly wait for the day, as he knew it would be arriving soon.



Contrary to Haldir's content, Buffy's nervous energy was rapidly increasing.



The bowing and formality on display had rendered her speechless–especially when beautiful beings like Elves were involved. She had thought that chivalry had died out a long time ago, but in this world it was still quite prominent. She didn't know whether to feel honoured or wary for receiving such formal introductions with these people.



Her eyes travelled to another Elf and the short, bearded man she had not been introduced to.



The Mirkwood Prince caught her drifting gaze and cleared his throat to speak of the two remaining in the wings, "This is Tathar, a Warden and Guard of this land and son of Hírvegil," he waved his hand at the silent, golden-haired Elf.



Tathar stood slightly stiffly, yet appeared to be relaxed as he bowed to Buffy; no hint of curiosity gleamed within the features of his face. To Buffy, he appeared rather cool and collected–very much shut off from the outside world, like Angel had been... Though she could not misplace the warm hue his grey eyes held.



All the Elves Legolas had introduced her to, held such an extreme beauty and inner light, that she wanted to weep all over again. Buffy was not sniffely by nature–in fact, she hated it, she hated weakness. But the melancholy, yet peaceful aura that surrounded the Elves was seeming to affect her more than she wished it to.



Secretly, she was glad of the shorter man's presence. It kept her grounded to the reality of her situation and not the utter absurdity of being in the company of seven of the most devastatingly, beautiful creatures she had ever seen.



Finally, Legolas introduced the shortest member of the party and his dear friend, "And this is Gimli son of Glóin. He is a Dwarf Lord and one of my dearest acquaintances."



Not one of them could miss the fond pitch of Legolas' voice as he spoke of the Dwarf.



Buffy watched in fascination as the Dwarf bowed stoutly, muttering to himself about the ridiculous behaviour of Elves and their foolish fancies for running off without a second thought. She almost smiled as she listened the quiet comments. Yes, she could definitely relate to this–Dwarf.



Having never seen, nor been aware that Dwarves existed, she was surprised to find that he fit the general criteria she had of the species, in her mind. He was short and had a long, chestnut braided beard, with bushy eyebrows above two warm, cocoa coloured eyes. What she had not expected, was for the Dwarf to possess such an incredible body build.



He was musclular and quite strong, and he carried numerous axes upon his back, as well as daggers at his side. She had originally thought that Dwarves were supposed to be rounded, like Snow White's seven Dwarfs–rounded and jolly, not menacing and powerful.



It was evident that Gimli was a warrior Dwarf, and Buffy found that she could certainly relate to the small man in terms being vertically challenged. She could see it in his eyes–he did not like to be inferior next to the Elves, but he had no choice; much like her.



She sent him a small, awkward smile, which he returned with a bare-faced grin. Though she could see that he was still rather curious about her appearance.



"This is Lady Buf-ii," Haldir stepped in, gesturing towards her, "It was she that we had heard previously."



Buffy almost died from embarrassment as Haldir said this. She could not believe that they had heard her rampage upon the forest floor.



"I hope that all is well with you, Lady Buf-ii," one of the Elves spoke up–one of the dark-haired ones.



He could deduce that she had forgotten his name, and so he bestowed her a dazzling smile as he bowed once more, "Elrohir, at your service, my lady."



She blushed three colours of red before clearing her throat and looking at the ground–slightly overwhelmed from the high voltage of his smile. "I–I'm fine, thank-you," she forced herself to stammer quietly.



Unbeknownst to her, the brothers from Lórien and Imladris grinned at one another, even though their curiosity had not been satisfied–she was quite becoming, even if she was a little unkempt and unruly in appearance–and smelt of death...



They had, of course, noticed her strange clothing, but decided that it would be wise to stay silent on that matter for the moment. Although her clothing was quite revealing from the bottom, showing her pale, slim creamy calves and strange foot apparels, the top half was still modest enough for their tastes.



Her features were fair, and among mortals, she could even be classed as quite pretty. Thus, the Elves made their conclusion of her.



One aspect that provoked the company's thoughts, was the land she had come from and how she had managed to pass through the borders of this wood.



As if sensing their hidden thoughts, Legolas spoke, "We will be taking Lady Buf-ii with us to Caras Galadhon; she wishes to seek counsel with Lady Galadriel," he was being purposely evasive about the condition they had found her in. He did not wish to speak of the trio's private moment to the entire group, and that much was made clear as Haldir simply nodded to his words in agreement, not making an effort to add his own.



Six eyebrows, of various colours and shapes rose at Legolas' comment and Haldir's quiet acceptance, but none spoke against the small woman's wish to speak with the powerful Elven Lady. If the March Warden had deemed her to be safe company, then who were they to argue?



The Elves could sense no malice from her, even though they all shared the thought that they had felt a dark cloud surrounding her–but it was more self-inflicting than harmful to others. Of this, they were most curious and suspicious of.



They took Legolas' word and belief, and their own intuition, that the small woman bore them no ill will, and visibly relaxed.



"I am glad you that you have come back," Orophin finally said to his older brother, as the silence began to grow heavy around the nine companions standing upon the invisible path.



"And why is that, muindor?" Haldir asked balefully, catching the delighted twinkle in his brother's eyes.



"Because, Master Gimli was most worried for Legolas' safety and well being; we were likening him to a mother hen prior to your arrival. What say you, on this matter? Is this a fair comparison?"



Haldir and the group, save for Buffy, chuckled as the Dwarf sputtered, "Indeed it is..." He trailed off, looking up at the darkening sky through the canopy of leaves, before he sighed to himself. "We will have to make camp here," he informed them gently, "We can travel no further this day–evening approaches and rest will be most a welcome friend. We will arrive in the city a day later than expected, but it cannot be helped for we have tarried too long this day and I assume that Lady Buf-ii is weary from her travels."



Buffy tilted her head minutely at Haldir's words.



She absently wondered if every person of this world spoke such long-winded sentences to one another. If they did, then she knew that she would be doomed. Her thoughts drifted away as she noticed that the other Elves were pottering about, laying their packs upon the ground before going through the motions of setting up 'camp'.



She had been camping only once–and it had been a disaster. She was not made for living in the wild, no matter how much Slayer blood she carried within her veins, she had always preferred her comfortable bedroom to the great outdoors.



With a helpless shrug, she stood on the sidelines and watched with hidden interest as the Elves and Dwarf went about creating a camp. A few wandered off into the nearby trees, whilst the rest remained with Buffy as they pulled out various bundles from their packs.



With no one to distract her, Buffy's thoughts turned to her friends and family. This place was far different from the heaven she had been in–but at least it was not Sunnydale. The shock she felt from being returned to the world of the living, still had not subsided and in her heart, she felt a great longing for what she had been torn from.



The world she was currently standing in was pleasant enough, but nothing could compare to the Utopia that had been her heaven... Salty tears stung her eyes as she folded her arms around her protectively, shivering slightly from the cool breeze.



She was surprised to feel a heavy cloth wrap around her shoulders. Turning her head, she caught the concerned smile of the Elf that had seen a brief glimpse of her grief and rage; Legolas. Before she could say anything in gratitude, he waved his hand, as if to dismiss her unnecessary thanks, and returned to his duty of stoking the small fire.



From the corner of her eye, Buffy spied the returning Elves and watched as they added more branches to the small fire, created amidst the awe-inspiring trees. She could tell that it was being skilfully contained between thick branches of wood, so that it posed no danger to the surrounding trees.



"Come–you must be hungry."



Buffy started as one of the Elves, whose name she had forgotten again, spoke to her from her left elbow.



He sensed her hesitation and smiled calmly, "I am Tathar of Lórien, my lady."



She nodded dumbly as he led her nearer to the fire, seating her next to Legolas, so that she would feel more comfortable with someone she knew.



It would be a lie for Tathar to say that he was not extremely intrigued by this small stranger. He could not help but wonder how she had passed through the guarded borders of his realm. But perhaps her short height had helped her to escape from Elvish sight. But that was highly improbable as the sight of the Eldar was truly magnificent and superior to that of mortals.



It was true, he could not feel any malcontent from her, but he was still as wary as he was curious.



He sat down on the ground, on the other side of the mortal–a mortal who wished for an audience with the Lady. If she was bold enough to ask for the Lady's wise words, then perhaps she was no threat to them. Still–one could never be too careful, even if the Dark Lord had been destroyed. And so, he resolved to keep a close eye on her, whilst also maintaining to see to her needs, be whatever they may.



Little did he know that the other Elves of the company had also sworn this secret oath.



She was quiet–for a mortal, from what he had heard of their behaviour... As though she was burdened by a great worry. Perhaps this was her reason for seeking the Lady, he surmised.



Her clothes were most strange to him as well, but he had never stepped foot out of his homeland since the day of his birth, and so, he was not the best judge of her attire. Though, they still seemed rather–odd. Much like her name. Never before had he heard such an interesting mix of letters. Her name sounded stilted to his pointed ears, but it was rather fitting–as though it suited her.



As Tathar began to eat the food that was offered to him by his Captain and March Warden, he silently watched the scene unfold between the Prince of Mirkwood and the mortal woman name Buf-ii.




L egolas sighed as he gently offered the mute woman beside him some food. She looked as though she had not eaten good meal in a rather long time–so he was resolved to make her eat at least a little bit, if not more.



He spied her reluctance and smile encouragingly, "It is Lembas; Elvish food–try it, you will find it most pleasing."



Like a small child she took the offered piece of Lembas from his hand. He knew that the others of his company had stopped their motions to discreetly watch the woman's reaction to something clearly unknown to her.



Buffy shifted awkwardly under their secret gazes. So–she knew that they were looking at her.



As he saw her fidget under the others' scrutiny, he held back the sudden urge to glare at the staring Elves and Dwarf. But he, himself, could not help but watch her reaction to the food, so he was as much to blame.



Firstly, she sniffed the bread to decipher it's smell. At that gesture, the Elves and Dwarf hid their entertained smiles at her wariness of the unfamiliar food. Legolas too, felt a smile curve at his lips.



She daintily bit into the food and chewed thoughtfully. As the taste and flavours exploded in her mouth, he noticed that her expression grew surprised before it turned into a reluctant acceptance of the unknown food she had been forced to eat– which was soon followed by satisfaction.



Legolas was left feeling slightly pleased with her reaction.



"What is this?" Buffy asked quietly, much to the surprise of her eight companions.



"Waybread," Legolas replied immediately, "Melian, the Maia, knew of this recipe and it is said that she passed it down in secrecy to the Lady of this wood, though a few others know of the secret ingredients as well."



He watched her frown, much to his dismay. It was clear that she had not understood his words. He noticed that the others were also contemplating her facial expressions–they seemed to grow darker with each second that passed...



Legolas wanted to stop her thoughts. Whatever path they travelled, it was a dark road, one that he did not wish for her to walk upon alone. And so, he did the only logical thing–he forced himself to make idle conversation with her. "Do you like it?" He asked hopefully, pulling her away from her terrible thoughts.



She pondered his question before she forced herself to reply, "I do... It's very–tasty, unlike anything I've had before."



"I am glad," he said with relief. "Would you like some water?"



As she nodded, he deftly handed her his extra canteen that was filled with fresh water. She looked at the object with confusion, before he realised that perhaps her realm did not possess such items. Before she could protest, he unscrewed the cap for her and motioned for her to drink. She did so, with little resistance, and much to his pleasure, drank deeply from the mouth of the canteen.



It was at that moment, that Legolas saw her battered hands. In the darkening light of the setting sun, his Elvish eyes could pierce the shroud around him, to shrewdly observe her bruised knuckles. "You are hurt," he said softly, startling her and his fellow companions from their thoughts.



Buffy grimaced before quickly placing the canteen on the ground so that she could hide her hands under her legs.



However, Legolas possessed Elven reflexes and was much faster than she had anticipated. He caught her hands and gazed down at them solemnly, refusing to let them go.



Much to her chagrin, the other six Elves and Dwarf, also focused upon her injured hands.



"I'm okay," she assured the Elf next to her, trying to pry her hands from his gentle yet firm grasp. Her anger grew as he would not relinquish them.



"I will tend to them," Legolas announced sternly, yet kindly.



"You don't have to," Buffy insisted, "Really, it's okay!"



He frowned and cocked his head in thought. "Why do you refuse? You are hurt and you must be in pain... I do not understand?" His words rang true, for Legolas did not understand why she would wish to leave her injury unattended.



She looked away from his intense gaze, as though she was being burned by his deep blue eyes. Her green eyes focused upon the trunk of a tree and remained there as he and the other Elves and Dwarf of the party, continued to stare at her thoughtfully.



Sighing in resignation, he released her hands. He could not force her to do something against her will. It was not in the nature of Elves to force something upon another being. But that did not mean that he could not be concerned for the woman's welfare, if she was in pain.



Instantly, he knew that she was surprised by his acceptance.



Buffy could see that she had somehow, in her own Buffy way, offended or upset the Elf sitting beside her. Being in the Elves' company was slowly beginning to grate on her nerves she found that she could barely look at them in they eye without blushing bright red...



She had never been affected by beauty before, and had wondered why it was so different this time–but she knew. She knew that the beauty of the Elves was far different to anything else she could ever compare it to. That was why she felt utterly uneasy in their presence.



With slight hesitation on her part, she offered the Elf her hands as a sign of peace.



Legolas beamed at her and Buffy had to bite her lip in order to meet the delightful expression upon his face. It was as if she were staring straight into the great fires of the sun, so bright was his smile! Silently cursing herself for allowing the Elf to tend to her hands, she tore her eyes away from his tender, heart-stopping smile, to stare at the ground.



The Prince of Mirkwood was gentle in his touch. After he had cleaned her bruised and scratched hands, he applied an Elvish healing salve that had been given to him by Tathar. He knew that the other elves and Gimli were slightly troubled by her refusal towards his aid–and that only led their suspicions of the woman, to grow further. Any fool could see that she had been done a great injustice, but none knew the true extent of her inner turmoil.



Soon, he had finished bandaging the hands and was returning the salve to Tathar, when she spoke, "Thank you–for everything," she said softly, for his ears alone. Though he knew that the Elves of this company could clearly hear her words; he chose not to inform her of this.



In return, Legolas nodded and smiled, "You are most welcome, Lady Buf-ii."



She looked at him askance and he ducked his head in apology, "Forgive me, I meant–Buf-ii."



Buffy rewarded the Elf with a smile. It was a rare gesture upon her weary face, but it was a most welcome sight. Her eyes felt were too old for the young, but pinched features of her face. Much like and immortal Elf's...



"How did you injure yourself, my lady? If I may be permitted to ask..." A voice from across the fire said.



She glanced up and noticed it was one of the Elves that resembled Haldir. Her throat tightened at his glowing form, but she forced herself to speak, "I–I hit them accidentally."



Her excuse was pitiable and all the Elves and Gimli knew of her lie, but did not question her further. If she wished for it to remain a secret, then it was her choice.



To save her any further questions for this night, Legolas stepped in, "Would you like to rest? You look weary." He hoped that she took no offence to his comment, and much to his relief, she did not–instead, she nodded eagerly.



He laid out his bedroll for her and motioned for her to sleep. "Do not fear for your safety; we are all honourable people and will suffer no harm done to you."



Buffy he looked at him, with what he could only describe as, wry amusement. It was as if her eyes were conveying a piece of important information about... Something that he could not pinpoint. It obviously had to do with her safety. Did she believe that they would not protect her?



At a loss, Legolas sat beside her, as she lay down to ease herself into a dreamless sleep. Her muscles were tense and taut with hidden energy from the day's excitement and he knew that she would find no rest this eve. Unles..



Discreetly, he conveyed a message through his eyes to the other Eldar, and without resistance or hesitance–they began to sing.



A beautiful but slow, melodic song wafted in the breeze that gently swayed the golden leaves of the trees. Above them, the sun began to set and twilight settled with the first brush of milky stars dotted across the streaked, water-colour sky.



It was a breath-taking sight for Buffy, as she watched the sky from her position on the bedroll–content to see the stars appear in the darkening sky and twinkle as though they were trying to speak with her. Though, what surprised her to the core of her heart, was the singing of the Elves. It was... She could not express how deeply it touched her–almost as if she were living through the song, with the Elves that sang melodiously. Another perfect aspect for the ethereal beings; the gift of song.



Their voices, obviously made for singing, pulled at her subconscious and before she could stop herself, she felt the gentle course of tears roll down her temples as she gazed at the blurred sky above, with longing and a touch of bitterness. The sight reminded her of what was beyond her reach–beyond her grasp... Heaven.



The soft, gentle voices of the Elves continued on and soon, her eyelids began to grow heavy. The muscles in her body relaxed visibly as she was sent into a deep void of sleep–the dark abyss, welcome to her.





T heir combined voices tapered off harmoniously as they watched the small, strange woman fall into a deep slumber, her mind resting and at peace.



They had seen her unwanted tears glisten against the setting sun and it had moved them beyond words. The tears were not of self-pity, but a deep, echoing grief that lingered all too clearly for them to feel. That action alone–her tears, was enough for the Elves to be convinced that she was a mortal, who's soul had been deeply bruised–by what, they did not know and perhaps, they could possibly never fathom the great injustice she had suffered. However, they still wished to know.



As they spied her sleeping form, the five Elves and one lone Dwarf, turned to Legolas and Haldir for answers to their endless questions, lest they burst at the seams from being uninformed.




Tra nslations:
Muindor – Brother
Lembas – Elvish waybread.
Eldar – "First-born" or literally meaning, "People of the Stars"

Added Notes: Once again, more character development, but I think that it essential for the this particular story... And besides, I like reading about stories where the characters interact and grow to trust one another! :-) Buffy hasn't spoken to Gimli yet, but that will be in the forthcoming chapter, along with many questions from the Elves!

You can easily see that she will be most comfortable in his presence because the other Elves are far too different for her to 'relate' to them. Although, there are many wounds to heal and someone will have to help Buffy do that...