Disclaimer: "Buffy The Vampire Slayer" belongs to Joss Whedon. "The Lord Of The Rings" belongs to J. R. R. Tolkein. Both are used here wtihout
permission. No copyright infringement is intended.
Crossover: Buffy The Vampire Slayer / Lord Of The Rings Characters: Mostly Buffy, Elladan and Galadriel, though Joyce, Elrohir, Arwen, Elrond Celeborn and others appear
Rating: Suitable for all ages
Feedback: Email Beriaearwen
WARNING! DOES NOT FOLLOW CANON! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK AND DON'T COMPLAIN TO ME WHEN IT DOESN'T FOLLOW CANONL, I TOLD YOU IT WOULDN'T! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
Best and Promised Fate
Galadriel read over the letter one more time and could only wonder what this new information would mean for her family. The message came from someone she never met, though was not completely unknown to her, Alleran, also known as Alleran the Wise. The letter bore a prophesy for her eldest grandson, Elladan. She knew it to be a true prophesy not only from the feeling of rightness she received from it, but because none knew before this very day when the birth took place that Celebrian carried not one, but two sons.
She read the prophesy once more, committing it to memory.
Moving to stand near the sleeping babes, she ran a finger tenderly down Elladan's cheek. "Time will tell, little one, but I believe there are surprises ahead in your life."
Part 1: Beginning Of Healing
Year 2515 Third Age
Using a too-large portion of his remaining strength Elladan raised his head.
His eyes blinked several times as he attempted to focus on the scene before him.
With his home days away and his situation quickly becoming dire, he had little hope but to trust in his horse to lead him to aid. Before him was a house of man, not of the Eldar. He could only hope that those within knew enough to help.
Normally he would have avoided such contact, relying on his twin brother, Elrohir, to aid him. Unfortunately, the fairly large orc band they had been following had split their path, and so had the twins split theirs. His portion of the orc band no longer lived, but the price he paid had been severe. His wounds, though not mortal on their own, were numerous, sapping his strength slowly.
As his horse plodded into the yard of the house, Elladan struggled to maintain his seat. He needed to stay conscious long enough to greet the house. A task that would be much easier if the world weren’t slowly fading into blackness.
He never felt his horse stop, or his impact with the ground.
A strange sound outside caused Joyce to stop mid-way through deboning the rabbit she would be using in the stew.
Setting her knife aside and wiping her hands, she headed toward the front of the house. She took a moment to peer out through the window, making sure to keep herself hidden from view of those outside. A momentary shock froze her as she took in the sight - the riderless horse, the dark-haired body slumped on the ground, blood visible to her even from this distance.
Her heart and stomach both responded to the sight, one she had seen in her nightmares many times. It only took a moment, however, for her rational mind to engage and for her to act. Opening the door, she checked the area and moved to the side of the fallen rider who wore the same ranger gear her late husband had years before.
A quick check revealed the man she expected was, in fact, a male elf. She vaguely recalled her husband mentioning two elves of Rivendell who rode with the Duendain and slaughtered orc. That the elf seemed to be breathing normally eased her mind. The wounds themselves needed to be cleaned, treated and bound.
She shook the elf in the hopes of awakening him, but received no response.
Letting out a sigh of resignation, Joyce glanced down his long, lank form and prepared herself to drag him inside.
Elladan first became aware of pain. The ache he felt, however, seemed less sharp than he expected. Memories of recent events returned and the constant emotional hurt and anger he felt since watching his mother sail West intruded once more. A low groan escaped him before he could stop it; whether than groan came from physical or emotional pain he could not say.
His eyes flew open as a hand rested upon his cheek. He met the shadowed eyes of the elf woman.
“Do you hurt much?” the woman asked.
It took him a moment to process the question completely, having become lost in her eyes. As he looked into the other elf’s eyes, Elladan found the same shadow dwelling her eyes that he saw each day in his own and his twin's. “Some,” he finally responded, shaking himself.
Reaching out, she placed a hand on his shoulder and gently squeezed. “My name is Joyce.”
Elladan's brow furrowed for a moment. That name was the name of man. He had known one other with that name and remembered its Elvish equivalent. “Alasse.”
“Your name in Elvish. Alasse.”
She smiled and patted his shoulder. “I’ll bring over some tea that should help ease the pain of your wounds.”
Elladan watched as she walked away, wondering what tragedy had befallen the elf and wondering even more why he seemed to care.
With a final smile at his friend, Elladan set off to meet his brother. Three weeks with Alasse and he now considered her a good friend, though he could and did understand why others of his kind might not. Still, the comfort he found with her in all forms, he knew to be special, something that no other human or elf could supply. More than his physical wounds had been healed in his time with Alasse. He could feel the wound at the loss of his mother started healing as well.
Disappearing into the woods, he pondered Alasse's story and wondered if he would have made a similar decision. Of course, given how he and his family were sometimes viewed by the other Eldar due to their mixed blood despite their status and connections, Elladan had little doubt that the elves would react other than favorably to such a human-acting Elf. A smirk lifted one corner of his mouth as he thought, never let it be said an elf lacks arrogance. At first, even he had been surprised by his friend's overly-human actions. That had changed as they began to know each other.
He found himself still amazed by her story.
Alasse had been raised by humans who had little to no knowledge of the Eldar. How she came to be in their care, she didn't know and her parents never told her. The couple loved and cared for her, raised her and did what they could to help her become a loving, kind and generous being. When the couple died, their children continued including her in their family, acknowledging her difference without making her feel like an outsider.
Several centuries before, she met a young ranger and fell in love. The two wed, but, as with all mortals, he died. Not knowing what to do other than continue to live, Alasse lived her life quietly. One day while traveling to meet her family, she crossed paths with other elves. Though they made their dismay over her manners very evident, they did inform her of her people and some of their traditions. They invited her to visit them, though she never did. She felt uncomfortable with the way they all seemed to look down on her.
As he headed toward the spot where he would meet Elrohir, Elladan made a mental note to visit Alasse the next time his travels led him near.
Six Months Later
As he approached the small clearing containing Alasse's home, Elladan knew something was wrong. His eyes picked out the broken branches and confused footsteps indicating a large number of orc.
Suppressing his panic at the thought of his friend being under attack, he allowed his determination and his hatred for all things orc to guide him and hurry his movements.
Though it only took minutes, to Elladan it felt as if hours had passed before he broke through the tree line.
The sight that met him caused his anger to boil over. Consumed in smoke and flame, Alasse's house burned, providing a garish backdrop the the scene playing out before it.
The orcs surrounded Alasse and were taunting her. As he moved closer, his mind noticed a few changes in her. She seemed to be glowing more brightly, a little heavier and her flat belly was now rounded. These details were noted and stored away as unimportant to the battle.
As he began slaying the outermost orcs, Elladan heard the sound of Alasse's voice, it sounded almost like a prayer.
He had no time to contemplate such things as the orcs began to turn their attention toward him and press their attack.
All battle stopped momentarily as a blinding light filled the clearing. When it cleared, no sign of Alasse remained. Though worried for his friend, Elladan used the distraction to his benefit and soon dispatched all remaining orcs.
Only when satisfied no threat remained did he begin his search for his friend and review the observations he dismissed earlier.
The residual smell of magic or something more powerful filled his senses, unlike anything he had ever sensed. Whatever caused the flash of light and disappearance of Alasse came from something far more powerful than even the Istari. Recalling his impression of his friend praying, Elladan could only assume that the Valar themselves had a hand in this.
As he thought more of his friend, her appearance came back to mind – the stronger glow, the rounded belly... His eyes widened and he felt his knees grow weak. Sinking to the ground in shock, Elladan realized that the physical comfort he and Alasse indulged in during his stay had far reaching consequences. Wherever the Valar sent her, Alasse now resided with their child.
Joy began to overcome the shock at the revelation and Elladan whispered, “I am a father.”
The joy began to fade to sorrow a few moments later as he also realized that he might never meet his child.
That realization began to undo some of the healing to his soul he and Alasse achieved. Closing his eyes to shut out the painful emotions, Elladan offered his own prayers to the Valar.
Part 2: Through Heaven's Gate
Headed Toward a Battlefield - (Five years after Sunnydale's fall / on Arda, Year 2915 Third Age)
Buffy paused and looked around, taking a deep breath of the fresh, pollution-free air.
Five years ago Sunnydale had become a crater when they defeated the First
Afterward, she had taken Dawn with her to Rome where she helped set up the new Slayer and Watcher Council. Though the old council had been located in England, various surviving documents pointed to Rome being their main center of power.
A fairly forgettable dalliance with a man who called himself “The Immortal” had passed a few months while they settled in the ancient city. This also provided her with entre into the ‘right’ circles of power.
In addition to the work of setting up the new council, Buffy had given in to her little sister’s demands and gone back to college. Though she still enjoyed Psychology, her major had been chosen almost completely by chance. With the need of filling a history requirement, she had signed up for the only class left that fit her schedule, a history of small group and guerrilla tactics through the years.
The class played to her strength. She quickly discovered that she not only had used a number of the tactics in her years of slaying, and especially since all the slayers became active, but she showed an instinctive brilliance for such things. With the praise and encouragement of her professor, Buffy had switched her major. She took to her new major like a fish to water and, for the first time in memory, loved school.
That love of school increased even more when, on a summer trip to an ancient battlefield, she met Callum.
Though cute and definitely date-worthy, the two had become close friends. Cal now rivaled Xander for the title of closest male friend. It was he who, over the past few years, had taught Buffy about the joys of fieldwork, archeology, weapon-making and the outdoors.
The last thought made her chuckle. She still loved her malls, her shoes and all of her modern conveniences, but years dealing with the council, with school and everything else, had made the simple, less-complicated time she spent away from civilization a treasured retreat. Now, at the ripe young age of twenty-seven she had finally embraced her inner nature girl.
A smirk lifted one side of her lips as Buffy thought about her age. Dawn hated the fact that Buffy still looked to be twenty. It balanced out the whole height issue.
Reaching out, Buffy pushed aside a branch and allowed her free hand to finger her machete. She never went into the wilds without it, even if she wasn’t sure she’d need it. Of course, the time in the wild also allowed her to wear and practice with her sword. She always claimed she wore the sword opposite the machete to balance out the weight. Of course, the hunting knife, stake and boot-knife she wore in the wilds were a given. Those three she wore almost always. Walking around with a sword in civilization was not always wise, but in the wilds...
Her bright smile faltered slightly as she approached the next location on her trip to yet another long-forgotten battlefield. The rock formation, a natural arch, translated to “Heaven’s Gate” in English. Though truly beautiful and something she would normally love to see and study, Buffy found no comfort in it. Something about the formation made her incredibly uneasy, though not in the same way that her prey usually did. It almost felt as if there was a heavy anticipation in the area, as if the world waited for something.
Reaching up to adjust the strap on her backpack, her fingers brushed against her pin. She wrapped her fingers around the item and thought of her mother. Made of a metal unlike any she had ever seen, the waterfall spoke to her in a way no other piece of jewelry ever had. After her mother’s passing, it was the one item of jewelry she flat out refused to allow Dawn to have or even touch. In the depths of her soul she knew it belonged to her.
Shaking her head at her wandering thoughts, she caressed the pin one last time before resting her hand on the pommel of her sword, she stepped forward.
Buffy lifted her jaw and felt her muscles tense even as she tried to laugh at herself for her trepidation. After all, walking through a simple archway wouldn't change her world, right?
As she approached the arch, she focused on the other side of it, missing the slight glow that began to illuminate the rocks as she approached. That glow proved to be the only warning she received.
When she stepped under the arch, a bright light flashed and her world faded away.
She felt herself flying through nothing and everything.
She could hear voices speaking around her, see flashes of things that were and things to come. She could see worlds changing, growing, being birthed and dying.
Just as she thought she would lose her mind, a voice sounding much like her mother’s spoke. “The time has come to return, Buffy,” her mother said. “Close your eyes and I will show you who you are.”
“Mom?” Buffy breathed out, her heart clenching at the thought even as she obeyed the instruction.
Closing her eyes, images began to appear in her mind. Pictures of a different world, a different life, of her mother at a small house and of an injured man with long dark hair and pointed ears on the ground assaulted her. She watched and listened to the interaction, her mother dragging the man – elf – into the house and caring for his wounds, nurturing him and helping him heal. She saw the closeness grow between them and the palpable sorrow which bound them. The scenes faded for a second only to come back and show the man standing beside his horse. He removed something from his cloak and handed it to her mother, looking closer, Buffy recognized her pin.
The image faded once more and came back to a different scene centered on the house once more. Some sort of demon dragged her obviously pregnant mother out of the house, throwing her into the midst of a circle. Buffy saw her mother close her eyes and heard the prayer she uttered, the question asked, and the pledge given before her mother disappeared in a flash of light.
“The time has come to return you to our world,” Joyce/Alasse’s voice said. “Your father is still there and will find you. Your great-grandmother will be there to guide them and you. The Valar, the Powers That Be, have gifted you with the language skills you will need. You already have the fighting skills you need. In Arda, you will have a chance to have a full life in a way you never did on Earth. You won’t have to hide who you are and you aren’t the only Champion Of Light. Listen to your family and learn all you can. When you arrive, your true nature will show itself. You are an elf. But elves did not exist on earth, so that part of you has been suppressed all of these years and we were given human form. That will change when you arrive. Your name on Arda is Silacaladhiel. It means ‘shining light’. You were always my light in a strange world, Buffy. I love you. Your father knew me as Alasse.”
With those last words, Buffy felt her mother fade from her as a bright light seemed to flash in her mind, causing a small scream of pain to escape before she passed out.
Former Site of Joyce's House - Year 2915, Third Age
Elladan sat on his horse staring at the clearing, his mind remembering that day nearly four hundred years ago when, lost in their own sorrow and pain, he and Alasse had acted to comfort one another. When he left, he left his cloak pin as thanks and a promise to check in on her and make sure she remained unharmed, he left in friendship. Six months later, when he returned, she disappeared before his eyes, the house burned and his friend now lived as no more than a memory.
As he stared at the clearing, he noticed a small prick of light shine in the midst of it and grow larger. Before long, he had to close his eyes and turn away from the blinding light even as he tried to calm his skittish horse.
Just as the light became unbearable, he heard the sound of something falling to the ground before the light disappeared completely.
Slowly opening his eyes, he turned to look at the clearing. He gasped slightly in surprise at the small form crumpled on the ground.
Dismounting, he walked to the female and crouched down beside her. He took in the very strange clothes, the odd pack and the weapons. Though he had never seen such odd craftsmanship, he set aside his curiosity in order to render assistance to the woman.
After a quick scan to ensure there were no obvious injuries, he reached out to remove the pack so that he could help her turn over and rest more comfortably. As he slipped the first strap down her shoulder, his eyes grew wide as shock and he froze in place.
There, on the strap, sat the pin he had given to Alasse so many years ago. An item he thought never to see again.
With a shake of his head, his slightly shaking hands continued to remove the pack.
That done, he turned the young woman over and helped her to lay comfortably on the ground.
As he ran his hands over her arms and legs to ensure there were no broken bones, he heard a soft groan escape and moved to kneel by her head.
Taking his first good look at her face, Elladan could see the resemblance to the woman to whom he gifted the pin. Some of the young woman's hair shifted during the movement, revealing the delicately pointed ears of the Eldar. Another scan of her face showed him what he had missed the first time, evidence and traces of his own appearance in hers. He felt a thrum in his blood as he watched her, the same thrum he felt near any of his family. His eyes drifted to the pin once more and then back to the woman he now believed to be his daughter as her head turned slightly from side to side before her eyes fluttered open.
“Adar,” she breathed as her eyes drifted closed.
Something inside Elladan shuddered, shifted and resettled. In all of his years of life, never did he think he would be a father, yet, he knew she was his daughter, the product of the act of comfort between friends. Reaching out, he stroked his daughter’s cheek as feelings of protectiveness, devotion and love stirred within his heart.
Determining that she seemed to be sleeping now, he moved over to his horse and prepared to set up camp. They would stay here at least tonight to allow her to rest and him to find out as much as he could about her, about the situation before heading home.
Thoughts of home caused a flicker of fear to dance in his heart. How was he going to explain this to his father? What would his family have to say?
With a deep breath, she shook away those worries and decided to focus on the more immediate need, tending his daughter.
To Be continues in Part 3: Unclaimed heart
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