Fan Fiction ❯ Shattered Reflections ❯ Child Of The Earth. ( Chapter 6 )

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

Author's Note: I am a bad, bad author for not updating in so long. Will imaginary sweeties get me into everyone's good books again?

Though holidays are a wonderful concept, am I right or am I right? Just had a great time with the kids and hubby in the summer, travelling around England, Wales and Scotland and now that I've returned home and settled back down into my job and routine, I am more than ready to get back to my writing! Of course, it's been over three months since my last update and for that, I apologise profusely, but I have returned and I hope everyone will enjoy the regular updates of my first fanfiction and crossover. I got a bit side-tracked when I started writing 'By the Sea' and I have to admit that it is fast turning into one of my stories that I am most proud of, but this project will always be very special to me and I have every intention of completing it, so even though you might not hear from me in while, this story will be completed in the end.

Thank you all so very much for the incredible reviews, I appreciate your opinions! To those of you who have been kind enough to e-mail, I would be grateful if you could e-mail again. I had to do an entire system recovery on my computer and I lost all your e-mails!

Once again, this chapter has not had the chance to be beta-d so it might be a little rough around the edges, even though the spelling has been checked. Please be patient with me and my silly ways.

And so, without further blubbering from me, here's the sixth chapter!


Previously...

“It is a dazzling sight, is it not?” The March Warden asked from her elbow, pride oozing from his voice.

Buffy nodded, unable to form the correct phrases to describe how the affluent beauty affected her. There was no paragon that could match this... Except perhaps the one true moment of happiness she had achieved in heaven.

“The Lady awaits your arrival,” he continued, “Let us make our way to the gates.”

And with that, the group of nine companions slowly descended from the peak of the hill to make their way steadily to the golden gates that shone like a beacon against the burning jewel of the sun in the sky.


There was something wrong.

Very wrong.

She shifted uncomfortably as the group made their way down the grassy slope, towards the golden gates that twinkled brightly in the soft rays of the sun. It was there–that feeling at the bottom of her stomach and she found that she could no longer ignore the sensation. The heavy weight that pressed down oppressively on her stomach, caused her to wince as her skin heated uncomfortably against the balmy breeze.

Buffy sighed. There was no denying it.

She needed to use the toilet. Really use the toilet.

Briefly, Buffy wondered if the Elves even had toilets. She hoped they did. She was tired of squatting in the bushes like a savage. But she had never needed to actually go since before this moment She suspected that the previous night's meat had something to do with... Ew. Shuddering and placing her hand against her stomach she started down the slope that led towards the gates, and hopefully a toilet with indoor plumbing.

As they approached the gates, Buffy realised that there were two Elves standing on either side, both clad in ancient looking armour that reminded her of the pre-medieval times. They wore no helmets, but the cut of their armour indicated that it was more for show than for fighting. Again, these Elves were also beautiful.

There was no difference of beauty between the Elves Buffy had travelled with and the two guards that were currently inspecting her with curiosity and suspicion. If all Elves were the same in beauty, grace and poise, then Buffy felt that the effect they had on her would wear off pretty quickly. But still, it was quite a sight to see more handsome Elves. It was rather like being at an all-you-can-eat man buffet. Buy two, get one free. And if the men were anything to go by, she dreaded to see what the females looked like.

However, on more than one occasion, she noticed that the Elves never seemed to be aware of their own beauty, or the impact it may have on other people who were not Elves. Their beauty was as natural to them as the gentle fall of rain, the blossoming of a flower or the milky stars they coveted at night. It made it all the more difficult to dislike them. Damn Elves.

Buffy looked on in mild interest as Haldir spoke with the two sentinel guards; she knew that he was using the language of the Elves–she had heard it many times in the endless days she had spent with her travelling group. It was unlike anything she had ever heard before. Fluid and entrancing, alluring and beguiling. Absolutely... Captivating.

She started from her thoughts and looked up as the gates were magically opened by an unseen force. Her lips parted in awe at the magnificent sight. The gates were ten times the height of the Elves; how could they move by themselves! After what felt like an eternity, Buffy blinked as she felt fingers upon her chin. She turned minutely and saw that one of the dark-haired twins was gently closing her gaping mouth with the pads of his fingers. He grinned exquisitely and winked before following the rest of his Elven companions through the parted gates.

Shaking her head from her stupor, Buffy quickened her pace to follow the other Elves. She did not notice the disguised stares she received from the two sentinel guards. Realising that it was now or never, the Slayer walked quickly and sidled up to Haldir as he led the group from the front.

She deftly nudged his side, clearing her throat to gain his attention.

“May I be of assistance, Buf-ii?” He asked with amusement glittering in his liquid blue eyes.

“Uh... How long will it be before we get to the city?”

“We are in the city of Caras Galadhon,” he said, clearly baffled.

As they continued to walk at an even pace, Buffy felt her frustration grow. “How? We're still in a forest!”

“Aye, the city is built amidst the trees.”

Buffy grew dismayed. That meant no toilets... But still, she would force herself to ask him. “I need to use the bathroom.”

Haldir's brow furrowed, “Do not be alarmed, you will be given leave to bathe before your meeting with the Lady.”

The Slayer did not know that her conversation with the Marchwarden was being carefully listened to by the other Elves. Legolas in particular, tried to ignore their words but he always found it fascinating when the tiny woman spoke. She rarely did so and when she did speak, it was delightful to hear her strange phrases and quips that baffled him completely. As an Elf, he enjoyed piecing together a complicated puzzle. Like the shindig she had spoken of. He liked that word... Shin-dig. It had the most wondrous ring to it! He wondered what it could be and was incredibly disappointed that their new companion had not expressed its' true meaning.

Meanwhile, Buffy was at the point of tearing her hair out as she tried to make Haldir understand what she wanted. “No,” she urged for the tenth time, “I don't want a bath!”

Haldir seemed to be at odds with her confusing requests. “I do not understand?” He frowned, “You wish to use the bath room and the concept of your bath room is not to bathe? I am at a loss, Buf-ii.”

Buffy wracked her brain for the right words, her eyes darting around nervously as she tried to explain her needs. “I... I need to,” she lowered her voice, “I need to relieve myself.”

The Marchwarden's eyes widened with understanding. Finally. “Ah.”

“Well..?” She prompted impatiently as his voice trailed off.

Haldir's steps slowed as he thought of possible solutions. One was to continue towards the centre of Caras Galadhon and the other was to allow the tiny woman to relieve herself in amidst the great mallorn trees. At least she would be well shrouded, and the city was guarded enough to allow her further out for added privacy. It would have to do, he thought to himself wryly. Gradually, as he made his decision and came to halt, the others of his travelling company followed his lead as they too had been inconspicuously listening to the conversation.

“The woods are quite private, Buf-ii, if you wish to... Go.” There was something he never thought he would say. If her discomfort had not been apparent, he would have been thoroughly amused by the situation. As it was, he was desperately trying to stop himself from taking advantage of the situation.

Buffy gritted her teeth in embarrassment, “Fine.”

But as soon as she turned to move off the path, Haldir could not help himself and so allowed his hand to catch her arm politely, “Allow me to accompany you and show you the adequate foliage to use. I would not wish you further discomfort in the wrong area,” his eyes twinkled merrily.

She caught the expression but refused to be goaded by his obvious amusement. Without a word, she pulled her arm from his grasp and veered off the path, weaving in and out of the trees so that she could distance herself from the annoying Elf. She knew that he was following and she allowed it because he was right to pursue her. It would have been mortifying if she had used the wrong kind leaf to wipe... Buffy rolled her eyes as her thoughts seemed to drift away from her.

It would be better for her if she remained alert.


“That was impolite, Haldir,” Legolas exclaimed as the Marchwarden returned from escorting their newest travelling companion. The Prince of Mirkwood turned to glare at Elrohir, who was guffawing with great excitement and gusto at the situation and Legolas' obvious disapproval. His blue eyes narrowed as the dark-haired Elf tried to rein in his laughter.

“It was all done in jest,” Orophin commented with a poorly hidden grin.

Legolas' eyes snapped towards the Marchwarden's brother. “It was rude and uncalled for.” Though he did not know it, Tathar secretly agreed with Legolas' views and was infinitely disappointed by his leader's uncouth behaviour.

“Oh come now, surely you can see the humorous side of things!” Haldir insisted as his brothers and the Imladris twins tried to subside their sniggers.

Legolas was unable to reply as Buffy stepped out onto the path. He thanked Varda's stars that they had been conversing in Sindarin; at least it would save Buffy from any further embarrassment. But at that particular moment, though her cheeks were stained red, she looked more annoyed than embarrassed. As it was, Gimli and the other Elves had no choice but to follow her down the faded path as she walked away without a single word or glance in their direction.

Legolas was concerned by her behaviour, but Haldir and the other Elves merely glanced at one another with large grins before following the dusty trail left by the angry woman.

The Prince of Mirkwood knitted his eyebrows wearily as his Dwarf friend patted his arm before following the others of their travelling company.


“She is coming, Celeborn.”

His wife's lucid voice spoke out softly against the sultry afternoon. “How soon?” He asked quietly.

Galadriel smiled radiantly, “Soon.”

Celeborn could not help but return the gesture. Her expressions were unique in every way. They reminded him of the gentle sigh of an autumn breeze–of the rustling amber leaves that now blanketed Lothlórien's rich soil. O, how blessed was he to lay claim upon such a wife! Her beauty and wisdom knew no bounds. Her presence was akin to the sun and moon; untouchable and indefinable.

Galadriel's smile widened, her cheeks dimpling attractively as she laughed. “Why do look at me thus?” She questioned teasingly.

“Because you are beautiful; melin ceni chîn gîn sílar ir galadach.” Celeborn chuckled as her eyes gleamed with pride and adoration.

“I could say the same to you, herven vuin,” she countered softly.

The Lord of Lothlórien bowed. “I humbly accept and approve of your attentions.”

His words only furthered her laughter. But soon, the time for joy had passed as her eyes misted with concern. As she took his hand within hers he allowed himself to be led to the balcony of their talan. The air outside was sweet with a fragrance that could only be described as unique. The land of Lórien differed greatly from the other realms of Middle-earth. Everything was different–the vegetation, the fruit that the trees yielded in springtime... Yet Celeborn knew that some things in Lórien were akin to Valinor. It was a reflection of his wife's first home. In truth, he knew that Galadriel did not consider Lothlórien as her true home. It was simply a temporary abode. In his heart of hearts, Celeborn knew that the time of his wife's departure was nearing–where she would move on to her true home.

The question that plagued him, however, was his own indecision. Could he leave Middle-earth? It was the only home he had ever known in his long life, next to Doriath... And he was loathe to depart from it. He had already tried to bury the past of Beleriand and Doriath, he wondered if he could do the same again.

The Lothlórien Lord was roused from his thoughts by his wife's lips upon the slope of his cheek. The understanding in her eyes told him what he had feared all along; her knowledge of his indecision. It pained him to know that regardless of his own choice, she would be leaving soon. And his heart ached with this foreknowledge.

“Do not let your heart be troubled by that which is inevitable,” Galadriel murmured gently, her star-filled eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“The inevitable will always be a burden to me, my heart.”

“Gen melin.”

“Gerich veleth nîn.” The words seemed to be lodged within the column of his throat, but he forced them out with such conviction and passion that Galadriel was reminded as to how deeply she loved the kingly ellon before her.

She blinked slowly and looked downwards. Though she could see nothing but the golden and amber leaves of her beloved mellyrn, the corners of her mouth turned upwards with wry amusement. “Come,” she said to her husband, “Let us deal with one problem at a time.”

Celeborn smiled in response, “My lady is most wise.”

Galadriel took her husband's arm and kissed his cheek reassuringly as he led her towards the formal greeting halls.

It was going to be and interesting afternoon and evening. There was no doubt about that.


Buffy gaped at the enormous wooden staircase that wound itself upwards and around the wide girth of the tree. She had to crane her neck backwards as she followed the staircase up with her sharp green eyes. And even then, she could not make out the top of the tree. It was as if the staircase was never-ending!

Several moments later, she realised that most of the trees around her now boasted their own staircases. The hairs of the back of her neck seemed to prickle and with her Slayer sense, she knew that she was being watched. Whether it was an evil presence or good, she wasn't sure. But she knew that she would be ready to defend herself.

Licking her lips, Buffy gulped as she continued to look up at the gargantuan tree. It was like a sky scraper... Only wooden.

It wasn't that she was afraid of heights... It was just the teensy fact that she wasn't too keen on getting vertigo if she happened to look down.

The others didn't seem to notice her hesitancy, or they simply did not acknowledge it. In the end, she was nudged by Legolas to follow Haldir and the other Elves up the endless staircase. With a soft snort, she headed forward with determination. Thoughts of strangling the person responsible for the current mess she was in reined supreme within her mind.

Willow.

Or was it truly her best friend's fault? She knew that the red-head had simply wanted Buffy back again... Back amongst the living. She was sure that it could not have been Willow's intention to send her to this weird place. So whose fault was it? With certainty, Buffy could say that a higher being was definitely involved. But who... A God? The Powers?

She sighed in resignation, barely registering that she was already a quarter of the way the stairs. But in the back of her mind, she knew not to look down.

Trying to occupy and keep herself from looking down, the Slayer began to hum and sing the annoying tune that had suddenly popped up in her head. 'I like to move it, move it. I like to move, move it. I like to... Move it! And again!! I like to move it, move it. I like to move it, move it. I like to... Move it!'


After what felt like hours, they finally veered off of the enormous staircase and onto a connecting bridge that steeped upwards and away from the large trunk of the tree. To Buffy, it was basically another set of stairs. But instead of being safely connected to the tree trunk, this steep stairway was held up in mid-air by thin silvery ropes that were wound around the trunk and a distant branch. It did not look safe and for the first time, she felt hesitant to follow the other Elves.

She noticed Gimli was also having a serious case of the wiggins. To her surprise, she and Gimli were nudged forward by Legolas. He smiled warmly at them before following his fellow Elves up the steep bridge. Or staircase, in Buffy's mind.

Gimli looked at her with a resigned expression and Buffy returned the sentiment with equal passion. After a few moments, the Dwarf spoke gruffly, "I have been on this flimsy contraption before, lass. It was the worst moment of my life that I have ever endured. You can give me trolls, goblins, orcs, uruk-hai and I will be a happy Dwarf! But to make myself walk over that thing takes a courage I fear I do not possess..." He shook his head. "It is a good thing that on the other side of that bridge, awaits the finest treasure in Middle-earth."

For some reason, Buffy knew he wasn't talking about actual treasure. She blinked as Gimli uttered a low growl and moved off at a run across the bridge.

As she watched him run up and across, Buffy took a deep breath and followed. She was the Slayer for god's sake! She wasn't afraid of heights in the slightest... It was just the idea of falling off that bothered her a little. Soon enough, she and Gimli reached the other side and walked through a pair of the softest curtains Buffy had ever felt. As they stepped into a small parlour, they were greeted with several amused glances from their Elven travelling companions. Both Dwarf and Slayer responded with glares that promised a swift doom if one word was spoken to them out of turn.

Silently, Buffy examined her surroundings.

They were standing on a polished floor, inside what Buffy assumed was some sort of large tree-house. There were no walls in the 'lobby' where they stood, only white gauze curtains that separated the structure from its' surroundings. She found it interesting that she couldn't see through the curtains even though they were made of sheer fabric. It was suspiciously odd.

As she looked up, she could see that the ceiling was made from thick intricately woven branches and twigs that formed the frame and structure of the tree-house. It didn't look safe to her, but the aged dark wood comforted her nerves into concluding that this particular tree-house had been around for a while.

Haldir turned to her. "Buffy, you will wait here."

Clearly, he had not made a request and so nodded complacently as Gimli and the other Elves walked through the parting in one of the walled curtains. From the corner of her eye, she noted that she had not been left alone. An Elf armoured in full regalia was standing in the corner of the room, trying not to look at her curiously. He did not move an inch but Buffy could feel his eyes scan her face as though she were some kind of enigma. It was unsettling and the silence of the Elf made her feel awkward.

She was guessing that he wasn't allowed to talk to her. Either that, or he had some serious issues regarding the darting of his spectacular eyes.

Sighing to herself, Buffy spied a cushioned velvet stool beside the Elf and moved to sit on it. She had an idea that Haldir would take quite a while to return and there was no harm in giving her tired feet a reprieve from the hard walk up those damn stairs.


Haldir stepped quietly into the Great Hall.

The Hall was a large room in which the Lord and Lady greeted their newly arrived guests on a regular basis. It was all for pomp and ceremony though Haldir knew that the bonded couple preferred a much more intimate setting when dealing with close friends and acquaintances. However, Legolas was in their presence and as a Prince to his father's realm, he deserved to be greeted in a manner befitting a Royal. Although Haldir knew that Legolas held no such expectations in being treated with deference. More likely, it was King Thranduil that forced his son to accept the respect and honour that was bestowed upon the Prince. After all, a Royal had to behave like a Royal.

The Marchwarden could accept King Thranduil's view in this, but he sometimes wished that the King would not force his views onto his only son. It only made Legolas more determined to shy away from court life and the expectations of his people.

Sighing, he walked further down into the hall before stepping nearer to the glowing dais of the Lord and Lady. He bowed low on one knee, keeping his head down with due respect.

He could feel the Lady's gentle smile upon his form.

"Mae govannen. It has been too long, my Marchwarden," the Lady's soft voice carried throughout the large hall, weaving into every living fibre of the room, effusing into his mind from the sweetness of her words.

He rose slowly to his feet with his own smile upon his fair face. "It is good to be home, my lady."

"Welcome, Haldir. I am glad to learn that you will be staying in Caras Galadhon for more than a few days," Lord Celeborn interjected with his own glinted, amused expression.

"Indeed! Even a Marchwarden of Haldir's calibre needs respite and recovery from the toils of his duty." Haldir's smile broadened as Lady Galadriel spoke.

He chuckled, "Aye my lady, but my duty to you is a blessing. There is no toil that I am burdened with when in your service."

Lady Galadriel laughed. "You have a way with words Haldir! Be careful, or Celeborn may assume that you wish to woo me."

"Woo away, Haldir. Woo away!" Lord Celeborn exclaimed heartily, flapping his hand disinterestedly.

At this, the trio laughed. Soon, the formal barriers between them were broken with ease as the Lord and Lady rose from the chairs and stepped down from the dais to embrace their long-serving Guard.

"Have you brought my Grand-children safely to me, Haldir?" Lady Galadriel asked with mock severity as she stood before him.

Haldir replied with equal sincerity. "I have my lady. Though their company was a great source of grief to Lord Gimli."

At the mention of Gimli, Lady Galadriel's eyes sparkled with mirth. "Then show them in! Old friends are dearly welcome in this Hall."

Haldir turned to leave but paused in mid-step. He had not spoken of the mysterious woman that he and Legolas had found in the woods of Lórien. Blinking, he looked down as he felt the Lady's soft hand curl around his wrist. Slowly he raised his eyes and was soon shocked by the layer of understanding that burned brightly within her gaze.

"It is known to us," her voice whispered into his mind. "Bring her here after we have made the formal greetings with our guests."

Nodding, he silently left the room to usher in the group of Elves he had accompanied to the great city of Caras Galadhon. Upon the surface he remained cool and collected as always, but beneath the stillness of his features, a war of doubt raged on within the chambers of his heart. The Lady knew of Buf-ii's arrival. But what could it mean?

He supposed that all would be revealed in good time, but Haldir could not dispel the suspicions that accosted his thoughts.


Seconds had passed by and the minutes drew on as Buffy sat on the cushioned stool, waiting. What was she waiting for? She couldn't answer that... Buffy couldn't answer any of the questions she asked herself. She only hoped that the leader of these people knew what was going on.

Her purpose in this new world was a mystery to her–and she could not help but feel resentment and bitterness at her current situation. As the Slayer, she had always had a purpose in her life. Something to do, a goal to achieve. And that goal was to save the world on a monthly, sometimes even weekly, basis. But now what? She was trapped in this parallel world with no purpose and no clue as to what role she played in the greater scheme of things. It was all too confusing and frustrating; to know deep down that she didn't belong here, but belonged in the warm arms of the light that had embraced her in death. The absence of that warm, comforting light made her feel hollow like the empty shell of an oyster that had been torn from the pearl buried in its' mouth.

She lowered her eyes to the shining floor, unable to escape the loneliness that threatened to swallow her entire being.

It was true that the other Elves and Gimli had been more than civil with her, but their newly formed friendship meant little to her. From the moment she had come to learn that her friends had been responsible for the mess she was in, Buffy had lost all faith and hope in the decency of friendship.

Pushing away a strand of hair from eyes, the mutter of quiet voices alerted her to the return of her travelling companions.

That was quick.

She looked upwards and to her right, only to find that the Elven Guard had not moved even a millimetre out of position.

As she stood, she noticed that he was still looking at her from the corner of his eye, but quickly averted his gaze when he saw that she was staring back at him in return. She wondered what he would do if she pulled a funny face at him. Would he be like those British guards outside the Queen's palace? Or would he make a face back? Or better yet, slap her. She was itching for a good fight.

Buffy was unable to find out as she absently turned to watch the group of Elves and Gimli step through the curtains with smiles of delight upon their faces. At least some people were happy.

As she looked at them, it struck her then how different they all seemed. Was it her or did they all just make with the glowy in a big way? Even Gimli had a certain aura of light surrounding him. As fascinated as she was, Buffy barely registered their farewells to her until Legolas finally approached her with a warm smile upon his face. The sorrow that has remained present in his eyes throughout the journey towards Caras Galadhon had somewhat dimmed, only to be replaced by a contented glow. He seemed a lot happier.

Buffy found herself returning his kind smile with a twitch of her lips. A certain kind of friendship had formed between them, even though Buffy knew they had nothing in common. He was light and day and she was the dark night. Two different people from opposite sides of the spectrum. And still, she found herself liking him for his kindness and weirdness, if she could put it that way.

"I am saddened to bid farewell to you so soon, Buf-ii," he said with the utmost sincerity.

She shrugged lamely. "I guess it can't be helped." Smooth. Real smooth. She cursed herself inwardly for being so inarticulate.

He smiled. "It has truly been a pleasure in making your acquaintance. I hope we shall meet again soon." Legolas offered a deep, gentlemanly bow before spinning gracefully on his heel to leave through the entrance of the tree-house where some of his fellow Elves had passed through moments before.

Buffy finally noticed Tathar standing quietly by the entrance. He caught her eye and nodded once with a gentle smile. She gave a small wave before he too disappeared through the curtained entrance. She felt, rather than saw the presence of Haldir standing beside her. Instantly, she knew that it was his duty to escort her to their leader. Heh. Take me to your leader.

She knew that it wasn't time for jokes, but what else was she supposed to do in this situation? She was talking to friggin' Elves and Dwarves!

"Why do I get the feeling I won't see them again?" Buffy asked Haldir softly, feeling somewhat sad.

The Marchwarden snorted delicately. "That depends upon the outcome of your meeting with Lady Galadriel," he replied dryly.

Buffy sighed imperceptibly. "Let's get this over with."

Haldir bowed at her mumbled request with much aplomb before gesturing to one of the partitions in the walled, gauze curtains. Nodding awkwardly, Buffy stepped through, only to be faced with a long wooden corridor that seemed never-ending. Haldir's tall, graceful frame brushed past her to lead her down the hallway. From the outside, the tree-house didn't look big at all. Maybe it was her mind playing tricks on her but she couldn't be sure.

The silent pair finally reached a pair of old antiquated wooden doors. Haldir knocked before opening them and both Slayer and Marchwarden walked through without much difficulty. As Buffy looked at the room, her jaw almost fell to the ground. She was hardly looking at a room; it was more like a grand hall of some sort. The walls were decorated with delicately coloured tapestries hanging from them and chandelier lanterns hung from the wooden ceiling in a majestic manner that made her think of the olden days. the various tapestries each told a story of some sort, but she barely had time to look at them before she was being ushered further into the hall. The place, although beautifully and richly decorated, made her feel warm and comfortable inside.

Like she had just come home.

Eventually, Buffy's attention was captured by the raised dais at the end of the hall, where she could make out two distinct yet prominent figures of a man and woman sitting upon comfortable high-backed chairs that reminded her of thrones. The warm sensation in her belly was doused by a cold wave of doubt and dread as she neared the two figures. As she stepped before them, a few feet away from the dais, Buffy could have sworn she saw the Elf woman nod at her from the corner of her eye.

From her left elbow, she watched Haldir bow low and flash her look as if to say she should do the same. Instead of bowing, Buffy made an awkwardly low curtsey, finally rising as Haldir rose. She still hadn't looked directly at the figures in their seats.

Watching with hooded eyes, Buffy gazed at the couple as they stood from their seats and stepped down from the dais, moving to stand before her. She realised then that she had made a big mistake in avoiding their faces throughout the entire ordeal of their greeting. Because just as she raised her eyes to focus upon the face of the woman's figure, her heart trembled against her ribcage and fell down into the depths of her stomach.

Time seemed evaporate from the pores of her skin as she held her gaze with that of the Elf woman's. Buffy found that she couldn't blink as she focused upon the most beautiful face she had ever had the pleasure of seeing in her entire life. Words were insignificant, for they could not do any justice to the ethereal grace and poise of the woman in front of her. She had thought that her travelling companions had been gorgeous, but they paled in comparison to this woman. In this woman, Buffy saw life itself. Embodied with every breath, every sigh, every laugh and every tear that had ever graced her smooth and flawless face. From the golden hair that seemed to shine of the sun's rays to the pale skin that exuded the moon's pale beams upon her pristine features. She was glowing! Buffy was enamoured, and for the first time in her life–she was utterly speechless.

But it was the woman's eyes that held Buffy captive in their depths. Those eyes, so blue that they shimmered with light, held something deeper. Something that Buffy couldn't quite put her finger on. She barely managed to notice the Elf man standing beside the beautiful Elven creature, but when she did, she noted that he too was far more beautiful than Haldir, Legolas and the other Elves rolled into one. Her silent question had been answered; Elves did have variations of beauty between them. It was all she could do to stop the drool forming in her mouth.

Finally, she looked back at the female Elf and once again found herself captured within the woman's blue eyes. As she forced herself to gaze into the endless pools of blue, Buffy felt herself begin to drown in there intensity. She shivered. It was as if she was looking into the very core of the universe, clustered with an array of beautiful milky stars. The star-light shimmered in the deep blue iris of the lady's eyes.

What Buffy finally saw in the woman's eyes was... Eternity. An infinite, endless eternity that had been filled with the deepest of joys and an endless cavern of sorrow. Her sorrow knew no bounds.

The tears Buffy had been trying to hold back at the sight of the woman fell freely for the first time since her outburst in the woods. This woman reminded her of a summer breeze; of the purity that sprang forth from a babbling brook. She was no poet, but if she had been, that's what she would have said. Unable to stop herself, she took a tentative step forward, "What are you?" Her awe-filled whisper was the only sound that drifted aimlessly throughout the large room.

The woman's eyes glinted against the rays of the setting sun that beamed through one of the windows of the room. And then, it hit her–like a two ton truck careening straight through her.

She was immortal.

The female Elf was immortal... Did that mean all Elves were immortal? She had seen the same glint in all the Elves' eyes, but had dismissed it as nothing. But now... Standing before this woman, Buffy knew she had been wrong to dismiss the light that had been in her companions' eyes.

After a long moment the woman smiled, a melancholy smile that enveloped Buffy the strangest but comforting way.

"What do you believe I am?" Lady Galadriel asked.

The Elf woman's question hung latently in the air between them. Briefly, Buffy wondered how this woman could emanate such a brighter glow than the other two Elves in the room. How was she doing that?

"Power," Buffy answered quietly, but instinctively. "You are power." Her green eyes darted towards Haldir. The Marchwarden mouthed two words at her. Lady Galadriel, the Elven woman's name. Even her name seemed to possess a life of its own. Swallowing, Buffy repeated the word again. "Power."

She blinked as Lady Galadriel's smile grew. "Welcome," she said gently, "to Caras Galadhon; home to the Elves of Lothlórien. We are honoured to have you here... Child of the Earth."

The words slammed into Buffy's body with such a force, she almost staggered backwards. No, she couldn't possibly know... Could she?

"I know many things, Lady Buf-ii," Lady Galadriel remarked quietly.

The girl inside Buffy wanted to run. But the dominant Slayer in her heart wished to stay and fight this awe-inspiring, powerful force.

And the Slayer inside of Buffy always got her way.


"Cheer up, lad," Gimli chortled from his side, "It could be worse!" The Dwarf had been in very high spirits since his visit with Lady Galadriel.

Legolas swallowed a sigh and offered a smile to his dearest friend. He shifted slightly and almost winced as Gimli sat beside him, causing the swing-chair to rock back and forth at a faster pace. If he had not known that strong Elvish rope held up the swing, he would have been fearful to sit beside the hefty Dwarf, lest they break the swing and fall. As it was, the swing-chair took both Legolas and Gimli's weight with much more determination than he possessed himself. "What do you suppose is happening?" He asked softly.

Gimli grunted. "I assume you're talking about Lady Buf-ii?"

The Prince of Mirkwood nodded solemnly as they swung back and forth on the private swing of their guest talan.

"Don't worry about it," the Dwarf assured. "Lady Galadriel will surely take care of her, if she poses no threat."

"You still believe she is dangerous?" Legolas' eyes widened with incredulity.

"Not dangerous... But, you have to admit there is something strange about the little woman."

"How so?"

"You've noticed the way she carries herself..?"

"Like a warrior," Legolas confirmed quietly, unsettled by their conversation.

"Well, she's rather small that I hardly believe she is a warrior. But looks can be deceptive."

Legolas grinned. "Aye. Look at you, my friend. So small and yet you have the heart of a warrior."

"If you had no just complimented me along with your insult, I would have had to push you off this swing!" Gimli growled, though his eyes held the kind of mirth that was only present when he was in Legolas' company. "Do not worry," he added with much more severity than had been necessary.

The smile from the Prince's face fell away as he turned to look at the breath-taking view of Lórien's trees surrounding him. "I hope we shall be able to meet again," he commented to the golden leaves that glinted against the rays of the setting sun.


"Tell me what you know," Buffy demanded, her spine straightening under the weight of the Lady's eyes.

Deep within her thoughts, Galadriel marvelled at the woman's petite frame. She was so tiny and so incredibly short! A full four heads shorter than she was. She looked down kindly at the young woman who seemed to be no more older than a quarter of a century. So young... And yet, the young woman's green eyes had seen more death and power before adulthood. Galadriel's bones could sense Buffy's power coursing within her veins... Newly born to this world.

Her star-filled eyes grew vacant as she spoke. "I know nothing but the past. The future, your future, is veiled to me. Even my mirror will not have the power to see what is to be," she paused, allowing her words to sink in. "Your blood is not of this world, and yet, you were born here in my realm. In Lothlórien; a child of the earth." Galadriel could see Haldir's shocked eyes widen at her. Her words were true... And by the Valar, the time had come to reveal her knowledge of the past.

That was all she could offer to this desolate soul standing before her.

Buffy scowled. "Stop it," she gritted her teeth. "Stop talking in riddles and tell me! What am I doing here? You have to know!"

Galadriel's brow furrowed, "Do you believe I possess knowledge that will help you?" Even though she did, she wondered how the mortal woman before her knew such a thing.

The Slayer tilted her head, her brow winging up to the intricately branched ceiling. "I do."

"How?" Galadriel tested.

Buffy hesitated before looking at the Elven woman squarely. "Your eyes..." She breathed. "Your eyes tell me you must know why I'm here. And how. So you have to tell me."

The Lady of the Light smiled then. A full, slow smile that shone brighter than the jewelled sun in the sky. "As you wish," she granted with her eyes turning to Haldir. "You may leave." She could see that her Marchwarden wished to stay, as he hesitated to turn and leave the room. Galadriel took pity on him and raised her hand. "You found her, Haldir?"

Haldir nodded slowly. "Along with Legolas."

The Lady blinked imperceptibly before the chilling smile returned to her face. "Then you had better stay and heed my words." The Marchwarden bowed deeply at her, grateful for being included in the mystery that seemed to grow more puzzling by the minute. Galadriel gestured towards a small round table that was nestled near the side of the dais. "You are weary from your travels, please be seated."

Buffy wanted to say no. She wanted to argue with the beautiful Elf woman, but she couldn't find the will to speak as the Lady's voice echoed in her mind. 'Patience, young one. You will have the knowledge you seek, though you only need to look into yourself to see the truth of what you are..."

Though Buffy was chilled to the bone by the words in her mind, she already knew what she was. And she didn't need Lady Galadriel to tell her. She was Death. She was the bringer and the giver; the one girl in the world that was sent to battle evil.

Death was her gift.


Sindarin Translations:

"Melin ceni chîn gîn sílar ir galadach" – I love to see your eyes shine when you laugh.

"Herven vuin" – Beloved husband.

"Gen melin" – I love you.

"Gerich veleth nîn" – You have my love.


Author's Note: Next chapter, Buffy learns about her purpose in Middle-earth and the ancient secrets that the Slayer's legend never mentioned.