Day 21 - The Gift
Title: The Gift
Author: Grundy (jerseyfabulous)
Rating: FR13
Crossover: Lord of the Rings
Disclaimer: Buffy belongs to Joss. The dwarves belong to Tolkien. No money is being made here, it's all in good fun.
Summary: Buffy dies to close the portal. She just doesn't stay dead. Or in Sunnydale.
Word Count: 1085
Author's Note: Should go without saying, but this one is its own animal- nothing at all to do with the Dawn's Early Light 'verse.
"Dawn, listen to me. Listen. I love you. I will always love you. But this is the work that I have to do. Tell Giles... tell Giles I figured it out. And, and I'm okay. And give my love to my friends. You have to take care of them now. You have to take care of each other. You have to be strong. Dawn, the hardest thing in this world... is to live in it. Be brave. Live. For me.”
She’d expected dying to hurt. Isn’t that what most people would expect? Flinging yourself into a portal crackling with mystical was pretty much asking to be fried. But if dying was what it took to save her sister and the world, that’s what she would damn well do. Hell, how hard could it be? She'd done it once before, after all.
Buffy felt the blast of energy that stopped her heart, but to her surprise, she felt no pain. Only peace. Everything was quiet, calm. She could relax. She was finally done.
That was when she hit the water. She only vaguely registered the cold, and what was left of coherent thought decided that this, too, must be part of dying. She watched the bubbles rising above her into the clear blue sky until she blacked out.
---
“Dwarves, to me!” Balin ordered thunderously, as he threw himself into the water trying to reach her before she sank into its unfathomable depths.
The girl had appeared out of thin air, a single bolt of lightning marking her passage, and dropped straight into the Mirrormere. She didn’t even twitch when she hit the water, and for a second he had thought the fall had killed her- but her eyes, ever so briefly, had focused on him.
That was what had kept him from leaping right back out of the freezing water. Instead, he swam as best he could, and was just in time to seize her by her foot. He could hear other dwarves on the shore, yelling.
Kicking hard, he frantically tried to pull the girl’s head above water, roaring for those on shore to fetch someone experienced in healing. If he managed to get her out of the lake, she would need someone more skilled in such arts than himself.
Finally, he pulled her face into the air, and was disheartened to find her not breathing. Other dwarves, members of his guard, had struggled into the water, and together they managed to keep her head above the surface as they first swam, then walked her onto the shore.
“She is dead, my lord,” Ori said. “Twas a noble deed, to go in after her-“
“Stand aside,” Oin snapped impatiently. “I have seen dwarves recover after being in the water for longer than this!”
Balin refrained from pointing out that it was no dwarf that he had fished from Kheled-zaram. Instead, he watched, intrigued, as Oin pressed hard against the girl’s chest. Several dwarves winced at the sound of a snapping bone.
“Can’t be helped,” Oin muttered ruefully. “Better a broken bone than a tomb.”
He repeated his motion,briefly stopping to blow air into the girl’s mouth.
“What are you doing?” one of the younger dwarves asked tentatively.
“Pushing on the chest keeps the blood moving as it should,” Oin explained as he worked. “And since she does not do so, someone must breathe for her also. If we are successful-”
The girl gasped, sounding alarmed, and her eyes flew open.
“Something like that should happen,” Oin finished weakly.
“Give her space!” Balin ordered.
Her green eyes were wide and confused as she tried to process her surroundings.
“Help her sit up lads,” Balin ordered.
“Easy, now!” Ori amended, in his element now that the girl was not in immediate danger. “Her head will probably be sore from the lack of air. Someone fetch a blanket before she takes a chill- those waters are not meant for swimming.”
The girl was eased into a sitting position, with dwarves braced to catch her if she showed any sign of losing consciousness.
“Just breathe now, there’s a good girl,” Ori said encouragingly. “We’ll get you dried off and warmed up in no time, just you wait and see.”
She tried to speak, but her voice failed.
Another dwarf came running up, bearing a mug of something hot. Ori sniffed cautiously, and determining it was broth meant for the evening soup, passed it to her.
“There you are, small sips now, it’s hot.”
She complied, her green eyes darting around, taking in her surroundings.
“Where am I?” she croaked.
“You are just outside the East Gate of Khazad-dum, what Men call the Dwarrodelf,” Balin explained. “You fell from the sky!”
“Yes, I did,” she muttered sadly. “I thought the fall would kill me.”
“It did,” Oin assured her drily. “Fortunately, dwarves do not yield easily to any enemy, not even death!”
“But I did die?” she asked anxiously.
Balin and Oin exchanged startled glances. She seemed curiously insistent on the point, where most would have been relieved to find themselves otherwise.
“Why is it so vital that you be dead, Lady…?”
“Buffy,” the girl filled in at Balin’s expectant pause.
“Lady Buffy?”
Balin only grew more concerned as her tale came spilling from her lips, of an evil being intent on destroying her world, and her sister being used for its foul purposes. Finally, there came a point where the only way to stop the creature was for her sister’s blood to stop flowing.
“And being the elder sister, you decided your blood would do as well,” Balin nodded.
“It seems the day abounds with noble deeds,” Ori observed.
“Indeed,” Oin agreed. “However, I think one more noble deed is wanting- we should get Lady Buffy inside and find some dry clothes before our lord continues his questions. Come, my lady, let us welcome you to the dwarf kingdom of Moria.”
Balin watched as his folk led the girl- who didn’t remark on the injury to her chest, though she must feel it- inside. There was much in her tale that was strange, and he felt an odd forboding that Mahal had sent her to them for some higher purpose than merely rewarding a noble deed.
Even as he made his way into his halls, Balin was already thinking who best to send in search of Tharkûn. The wizard had served them well in the Quest for Erebor, perhaps he would know what to make of this odd young woman.
Author: Grundy (jerseyfabulous)
Rating: FR13
Crossover: Lord of the Rings
Disclaimer: Buffy belongs to Joss. The dwarves belong to Tolkien. No money is being made here, it's all in good fun.
Summary: Buffy dies to close the portal. She just doesn't stay dead. Or in Sunnydale.
Word Count: 1085
Author's Note: Should go without saying, but this one is its own animal- nothing at all to do with the Dawn's Early Light 'verse.
"Dawn, listen to me. Listen. I love you. I will always love you. But this is the work that I have to do. Tell Giles... tell Giles I figured it out. And, and I'm okay. And give my love to my friends. You have to take care of them now. You have to take care of each other. You have to be strong. Dawn, the hardest thing in this world... is to live in it. Be brave. Live. For me.”
She’d expected dying to hurt. Isn’t that what most people would expect? Flinging yourself into a portal crackling with mystical was pretty much asking to be fried. But if dying was what it took to save her sister and the world, that’s what she would damn well do. Hell, how hard could it be? She'd done it once before, after all.
Buffy felt the blast of energy that stopped her heart, but to her surprise, she felt no pain. Only peace. Everything was quiet, calm. She could relax. She was finally done.
That was when she hit the water. She only vaguely registered the cold, and what was left of coherent thought decided that this, too, must be part of dying. She watched the bubbles rising above her into the clear blue sky until she blacked out.
---
“Dwarves, to me!” Balin ordered thunderously, as he threw himself into the water trying to reach her before she sank into its unfathomable depths.
The girl had appeared out of thin air, a single bolt of lightning marking her passage, and dropped straight into the Mirrormere. She didn’t even twitch when she hit the water, and for a second he had thought the fall had killed her- but her eyes, ever so briefly, had focused on him.
That was what had kept him from leaping right back out of the freezing water. Instead, he swam as best he could, and was just in time to seize her by her foot. He could hear other dwarves on the shore, yelling.
Kicking hard, he frantically tried to pull the girl’s head above water, roaring for those on shore to fetch someone experienced in healing. If he managed to get her out of the lake, she would need someone more skilled in such arts than himself.
Finally, he pulled her face into the air, and was disheartened to find her not breathing. Other dwarves, members of his guard, had struggled into the water, and together they managed to keep her head above the surface as they first swam, then walked her onto the shore.
“She is dead, my lord,” Ori said. “Twas a noble deed, to go in after her-“
“Stand aside,” Oin snapped impatiently. “I have seen dwarves recover after being in the water for longer than this!”
Balin refrained from pointing out that it was no dwarf that he had fished from Kheled-zaram. Instead, he watched, intrigued, as Oin pressed hard against the girl’s chest. Several dwarves winced at the sound of a snapping bone.
“Can’t be helped,” Oin muttered ruefully. “Better a broken bone than a tomb.”
He repeated his motion,briefly stopping to blow air into the girl’s mouth.
“What are you doing?” one of the younger dwarves asked tentatively.
“Pushing on the chest keeps the blood moving as it should,” Oin explained as he worked. “And since she does not do so, someone must breathe for her also. If we are successful-”
The girl gasped, sounding alarmed, and her eyes flew open.
“Something like that should happen,” Oin finished weakly.
“Give her space!” Balin ordered.
Her green eyes were wide and confused as she tried to process her surroundings.
“Help her sit up lads,” Balin ordered.
“Easy, now!” Ori amended, in his element now that the girl was not in immediate danger. “Her head will probably be sore from the lack of air. Someone fetch a blanket before she takes a chill- those waters are not meant for swimming.”
The girl was eased into a sitting position, with dwarves braced to catch her if she showed any sign of losing consciousness.
“Just breathe now, there’s a good girl,” Ori said encouragingly. “We’ll get you dried off and warmed up in no time, just you wait and see.”
She tried to speak, but her voice failed.
Another dwarf came running up, bearing a mug of something hot. Ori sniffed cautiously, and determining it was broth meant for the evening soup, passed it to her.
“There you are, small sips now, it’s hot.”
She complied, her green eyes darting around, taking in her surroundings.
“Where am I?” she croaked.
“You are just outside the East Gate of Khazad-dum, what Men call the Dwarrodelf,” Balin explained. “You fell from the sky!”
“Yes, I did,” she muttered sadly. “I thought the fall would kill me.”
“It did,” Oin assured her drily. “Fortunately, dwarves do not yield easily to any enemy, not even death!”
“But I did die?” she asked anxiously.
Balin and Oin exchanged startled glances. She seemed curiously insistent on the point, where most would have been relieved to find themselves otherwise.
“Why is it so vital that you be dead, Lady…?”
“Buffy,” the girl filled in at Balin’s expectant pause.
“Lady Buffy?”
Balin only grew more concerned as her tale came spilling from her lips, of an evil being intent on destroying her world, and her sister being used for its foul purposes. Finally, there came a point where the only way to stop the creature was for her sister’s blood to stop flowing.
“And being the elder sister, you decided your blood would do as well,” Balin nodded.
“It seems the day abounds with noble deeds,” Ori observed.
“Indeed,” Oin agreed. “However, I think one more noble deed is wanting- we should get Lady Buffy inside and find some dry clothes before our lord continues his questions. Come, my lady, let us welcome you to the dwarf kingdom of Moria.”
Balin watched as his folk led the girl- who didn’t remark on the injury to her chest, though she must feel it- inside. There was much in her tale that was strange, and he felt an odd forboding that Mahal had sent her to them for some higher purpose than merely rewarding a noble deed.
Even as he made his way into his halls, Balin was already thinking who best to send in search of Tharkûn. The wizard had served them well in the Quest for Erebor, perhaps he would know what to make of this odd young woman.