1. Not in kansas

_AN (Sep 2010): I'm currently in the process of cleaning up and finishing this little monster that has dragged out...jeeze, over ten years 0_o. I'd like to thank all those readers that have stuck with me through my on-again, off-again updating - you guys are truly, truly awesome._

_We kick off here from the end of The Gift in Buffy and the battle at Amon Hen (where Boromir dies) in LotR. I don't own any of the characters or settings I play with._

* * *

It was the only choice she had.

The sky was tearing open. Her blood was spilled, was still spilling in fact. It was happening. Everything Glory had hoped. Everything they had been trying to prevent for the past year. And yet Dawn couldn't bring herself to care. Not when her sister was looking at her with that horrible certainty in her eyes.

"Buffy no…"

Buffy no - two little words with so many meanings.

Buffy no, don't sacrifice yourself for a world that still needs you.

No, don't take the easy way out.

No, don't do this to the others.

No, don't make me live with the guilt of your death…_don't do this to me…_

And that's really what it all came down to - Buffy no, don't do this to me. Dawn may have been the key but it was refreshing in a weird way to note that she was still a self-centered teen as well.

"Dawnie I have to."

Dawn barely heard her through her tears, her body numb even as her mind screamed for her to stop it…stop her…

"Live for me Dawnie…"

Live for her.

The words reverberated around her mind with a hollow sort of clanging that made Dawn want to shake her head.

Live for her.

Everything stilled.

_Live for her_?

The look she raised to her sister in that instant was a wholly familiar one. One she had spent years perfecting with every cat-fight and spit-session. Every time Buffy accused her of stealing her clothes and demanded them back; every time she used the rest of the milk and Buffy yelled at her to share her cereal. It was a look that said just one thing.

Why the hell should she?

Why should she do anything for her self-centered cow of a sister who wasn't even willing to do the same for her? An anger she knew well burned in her chest as her head snapped up.

"No!"

Her push caught her sister off guard, the telling stumble putting more than a few feet between the girls as shock blazed in the slayer's eyes. Just for a moment, Dawn could imagine curled, ash-blonde hair framing those eyes; eyes that would look at her with such understanding. No one had quite understood her like her mother. She had to wonder if Joyce Summers would have understood what her youngest daughter now had to do.

Dawn took a step back and it was only then that her sister's eyes widened in realisation.

"Dawn no!"

The molten rock landed between the girls on the platform, cutting off all hope of life for the Key and providing the slayer with perfect access to the staircase that would save hers.

Dawn turned.

Only as she was running did Dawn work out how she'd done it. Those damn monks. If she had been anyone else, anyone other than a pig-headed sixteen year old, she knew she wouldn't have been able to pull out of her sorrow and pain. Would never have been able to turn self pity into jealousy - would never have been able to rebel against her sister.

But she was a teenage girl – rebelling was what she did best. Her mother had always said it would get her into trouble. She had been right.

Dawn launched herself off the platform.

It was going to get her killed.

* * *

The first real sensation following the blackness was one of leaves. Yes leaves - her mind was being that obscure.

Dawn groaned, as one often did after dying - or at least when you died in Sunnydale. It seemed to be a real privilege to be one of the select few to stay dead on the Hellmouth. But then, in her case, there was something infinitely wrong with this scenario - Dawn's eyes snapped open - because she sure as hell wasn't in Sunnydale anymore.

It was the fairytale forest surroundings that gave her the first tip-off. The second was the blood-splattered body flipping through the air and landing beside her. Dawn couldn't help it, she yelped as she back-pedaled away from the body, kicking up a spray of leaves before her back hit a tree trunk.

Unseeing eyes stared out of a ferocious, inhuman visage, the black blood oozing from its slack mouth proving its occupational deadness. Breathing heavily she found herself hoping fervently that this particular creature was a rebel that went against the grain and stayed quite happily deceased because she really didn't want to see what it was like moving if it was this uber-wiggy still.

A thunk from the other side of the tree at her back made her jump and she looked up sharply, dread rising in the back of her throat. With a caution borne of living as the sister of a slayer, she peered around the bark.

The sight that met her was surprising at best.

Pile upon pile of bodies – all inhuman; dark skin mingling with dark blood. And in the center – the cause.

It was a man - that much was obvious. The sword in his hand swung a great lopping ark as his sandy, longish hair flew. Another of the demons fell at his feet and he staggered onto the next.

Staggered. He was hurt, even from the back Dawn could tell as his movements became more and more sluggish. Another of the monsters fell to be replaced by two and the man turned. Dawn let out an involuntary gasp. Yes the man was slowing, but who wouldn't with an arrow in their heart?

A clicking resounded, miraculously drowning out the sounds of the fray and Dawn looked up at the same time the man did…both too late.

"No!"

The cry did little to stop the arrow and Dawn watched in horror as the man stumbled to his knees, his head drooping; hair curtaining around his face as the second arrow quivered in his chest.

Dawn felt her throat close up. This wasn't fair. She'd just left this. She'd jumped. Why was the horror following her?

"No…"

Her voice was broken even to her own ears so how he heard it she would never know. But he did and he turned to her. Their eyes locked. Dawn almost thought she was looking into her sister's gaze again. So blue. So full of pain. His eyes showed no confusion at finding her there, the weight of his situation already falling – death already beginning to slip into his gaze.

The monsters attacked again and, amazingly, again, he met them. Dawn had never felt so helpless. This couldn't happen, it couldn't. She needed to do something. Anything-

Her fingertips brushed over a hard, cold surface, a jagged edge caressing her skin. Her eyes hardened and she looked up once more as another creature fell under the man's sheer determination.

The click resounded again.

Dawn heaved the rock with all her might, crying out hoarsely in exertion. It struck its target and the beast growled inhumanly as its head snapped around and the arrow thumped off target into the man's mid-section. He stumbled again and Dawn watched helplessly as he fell. _No please…_

She would never know how her grip found the man's sword or just how she had made it to his side to retrieve it. She did however remember the brush of her fingers against his as it was passed. She had a feeling she always would. Dawn turned.

Her first blow was clumsy, almost sliding off the attacking demon. Her second pierced its heart and it fell. It took its leader's patience with it.

"Take the Halfling!"

It was a growl but at the same time not. Obviously an order, but sounding as though it had been swallowed a few times before being regurgitated onto the sound waves. Dawn had little time to ponder it as the monsters swarmed towards her. Two fell before she did - something about watching her sister had obviously stuck. Then she was being lifted, her lungs screaming for air as her eyes again locked with the man's, for the last time.

Then everything was black…again.


	2. Hobbits

"Merry! Merry! I think she's awake!"

"I can see that Pippin...and keep your voice down will you?"

"She's kinda pretty... "

"Snore's like the Gaffer though."

Dawn groaned for the second time in twenty-four hours. She really had to stop losing consciousness - it was ridiculously painful getting it back. She rolled onto her side slightly and opened her eyes a crack, allowing her vision to come back to her in jolts and slides. The view that greeted her was definitely one she wasn't prepared for.

Faces.

Two of them, equally bloody, bruised and beaten and each with matching grins plastered across dirt-encrusted features.

"Hi'ye, I'm Pippin, an' this is Merry..."

"Have a pity Pip, let the girl wake up."

"She is awake!"

Dawn couldn't help it, she laughed.

The face on the left, the one who'd greeted her, grew smugly cheerful as he nudged his companion. "See."

Dawn shifted her weight to sit up but was stopped by a surprisingly small hand on her shoulder. One of the faces - Merry? - turned serious eyes on her before glancing off to the side.

"Don't sit up - you'll get their attention," he warned and Dawn followed his gaze to see dark figures milling around in a large group to their right. She didn't have to be a genius to work out that they weren't of the human variety.

"What the hell am I doing here?" She hadn't meant to say it out loud and the darkness in the open night sky seemed to amplify her words.

Pippin cocked his head at her. "We were actually gonna ask ye that, weren't we?" he said astutely, turning to Merry who met Dawn's confused gaze with an unsure one of his own.

"It's not very common to come across someone like you among a band of Orcs," Merry supplied.

Dawn frowned. "Orcs?"

Merry gestured over to the creatures. "Big, ugly, smelly chaps with a habit for kidnapping."

Dawn nodded stealing a look over at the monsters milling around in the darkness. Smelly looked about right. Turning back to the two little people she found herself at a loss for what to say. The silence stretched for a moment as they all stared around at each other.

"So..." Pippin began finally. "Why is it you're here then?"

The bland comment awarded him a nudge and a look from Merry.

"What?"

The innocence in Pippin's tone was palpable and Dawn couldn't help her small smile. He reminded her scarily of Anya with his straight forward nature. Her humour slipped however when his question sunk in. Why was she here? The last thing she remembered was...was that man. And before that was the dive. She should be dead. She cocked her head at the thought - maybe she was.

She looked up at last to find Merry and Pippin staring at her expectantly. She sighed. "I don't know what I'm doing here...I don't even know where 'here' is," she said sullenly.

A second later a roar went up from the creatures - the orcs. Merry and Pippin both stiffened visibly and Dawn glanced to the right fearfully as the Orcs jogged towards them.

"Here we go again..."

She couldn't tell if it was Merry of Pippin who voiced the comment but found herself fully agreeing with the sentiment as an Orc dragged her off the ground and onto it's back.

She could see this being a very long day.

* * *

They had been running for days…on days…on days…

Gimli swore under his breath…or would have if he'd had any left. Didn't they realize their company? A dwarf's legs were meant for greater, and slower things than running around after a bleeding big group of horror goblins. Not that he would admit any such thing of course, especially in front of the damnable pointy-ear.

As if to spite his thoughts themselves, Gimli's legs gave way at that precise moment. A precise moment that annoyingly enough, found him at the cusp of a great hill.

"Oh bloody -"

The dwarf never got the whole curse past his lips as he pitched forward and rolled all the bumpy, jagged way to the bottom. The move didn't even cause a slowing in the elf or the man. It had happened before. The whole trio was actually quite used to it. Gimli halfway found himself looking forward to the hills now as it gave his legs a much needed rest.

With a rough, though unenthusiastic shake of his bearded head, the dwarf climbed to his feet and trudged onward, colliding soundly with the stiff back of Legolas.

The hill had obviously done some good. Gimli was able to let loose a rather impressive stream of curses as he toppled backwards, the added weight of his axe on his back making any chance of staying upright void. As a result, Gimli the dwarf soon found himself taking stock of the clouds whisking across the otherwise, un-marred sky. He was just beginning to accept the idea that perhaps he was better off right where he was when the one face on middle earth he didn't want to be witnessing him in his current position leaned over his, the humour twinkling annoyingly in its clear, pristine eyes.

"Are you quite happy Master Dwarf? Perhaps a pillow for your added comfort?"

Gimli growled before moving - for a moment struggling like a tortoise on its back before the elf hooked a foot under his axe and flipped him over to allow for better leverage. Gimli scowled at the grinning elf.

"I was merely takin' advantage of any stationary situation," he growled out defensively, stalking off towards Aragorn who was crouched a little ways ahead. He really despised that look that damn elf got - though he was coming to a slow acceptance that he did not despise the elf himself. Gimli had found that he couldn't hate Legolas, despite the rivalry that had sustained between their species for a time unbound. They had simply been through too much together.

Gimli snorted derisively at his thoughts. Next he'd actually be enjoying the devil's company. He came to a halt near Aragorn, sensing Legolas doing the same behind him as they both watched the ranger scour the earth. Finally Aragorn spoke.

"They rested here, though not for long," the ranger said lowly. "They moved off before the morning broke the hills." With a sureness that only a ranger could possess he turned to the west. "This way."

Gimli rolled his eyes. More running.


	3. All leg

Dawn grunted as she met the earth unceremoniously.

Three days.

Three days of being dragged around by the most mean tempered orc in the universe with little respite, no food and foul water. Not to mention she hadn't showered since she'd ended up in this hell hole. She was beginning to fear she was giving the orcs a run for their money in the stench stakes.

Twin grunts sounded from beside her and she would have smiled if she'd had the energy. Merry and Pippin - the only things keeping her from losing all hope of anything in this god-forsaken place.

The two called themselves Hobbits - yes Hobbits, if she'd needed proof she wasn't in Kansas anymore there it was – and since their meeting just a little over 36 hours ago, she'd learned quite a lot about her whereabouts and company from the two. Pippin especially seemed to lack the ability to keep his mouth shut. Their favourite subject was talk of their home. They seemed to love describing with vivid detail the pastures and the fields of the Shire and the adventures and mischief they would constantly get up to - especially, Pippin had enthused, in Farmer Maggot's crop. It was obvious, perhaps at times painfully so, how much the pair missed their home. Which really threw the question screaming under Dawn's nose: Why had they left?

Dawn had been surprised to find the two very tight-lipped on the subject, the complete opposite of any other. Even Pippin, who could have given Anya a run for her money in cluelessness, wouldn't let anything slip. The whole affair served to make Dawn, nosy teenager that she was, extremely curious. But even through the use of her best needling techniques she'd only gotten 'to aid a friend'. Of course it hardly helped that their conversations rarely exceeded ten minutes before they were back to impersonating orc backpacks.

Speaking of orcs.

Dawn winced as a loud growl rose up from the group of what she was sure were demons over near the edge of the forest. Dawn frowned slightly. That was new – the forest that is, not the growling. The growling had actually been increasing noticeably the past few days. Something was getting under the creatures' skin. Part of it, Dawn was sure, was the reason Pippin was missing his snazzy leaf cloak-clasp.

Dawn reached up and fingered the clasp on the cloak around her own neck. Merry had insisted on giving it to her the night before when her chattering teeth kept interrupting their conversation. She'd thought at first that the thing would hardly fit but once around her shoulders the cloth had seemed to...not so much lengthen as...stretch maybe? When she'd mentioned it the Hobbits had simply grinned and told her it was Elf-made. Fat lot of good that did in explaining the phenomenon but Dawn had enjoyed the stories of some of the Elf cities that had resulted. Dawn smiled at the memory but it dropped from her face like a tonne of bricks a moment later when a face still weeping from the beating it had taken from the ugly stick loomed into her vision.

"Wha' 'bout their legs? They don' need those -"

Dawn swallowed hard as the face was yanked out of her field of vision and reprimanded. That's when things started getting a bit thick. Where as all the other confrontations between the species had resulted in the smaller, more vicious half-demons backing down, this time the little snot held his ground.

The air grew heavy and orcs, hobbits and keys-made-teens combined, shifted uncertainly. Then the world exploded.

The smaller ones struck first, rushing the leader of the larger species with a roar to rival Spike on a bender. The first one fell within inches of Dawn and for a moment she simply blinked stupidly as the chaos erupted around her. But only for a moment. Sound came back to her with a rush, as did her instinct.

She whipped her head around to Merry and Pippin, calling their attention from the battle around them. Two pairs of expectant eyes looked into hers.

"Get out of here! Crawl for the forest, both of you," she directed hastily, already moving in the opposite direction herself. She could practically feel the Hobbits' confusion at her actions. She wasn't all that sure of them herself.

"I'll catch you up!" She called, cutting off all other protests as she elbowed her way across the earth to the first-felled orc's body. A glance over her shoulder saw her release a grateful sigh as the twin wiggling butts of Merry and Pippin greeted her gaze. Her eyes steeled as she turned back to her objective. Finally reaching the body, she grunted as she rolled it onto its back, scrunching up her nose in disgust at the stench that assailed her nose.

And this was freshly killed.

Ignoring her better judgment (that was currently nudging her stomach to prepare for projectile vomiting), she did a thorough search of the corpse, finally finding what she was looking for in a strap around the creature's leg.

A dagger - or rather a flake of hard flint that had served this particular orc as a dagger. Dawn didn't much care - it only had one property she was interested in.

It only took a moment for rubbing her bindings against the weapon before her hands were free and Dawn flexed her wrists, reviling for a moment in the action. A horse suddenly screamed in the din and Dawn's head snapped up.

Horse?

But yes, there, and atop it was…

"Oh crap."

There were some new players in the game obviously but Dawn was far from trusting the world she'd landed in enough to rely on her judgment of goodies and baddies. Even so, she had to admit that they, whoever they were, were doing a pretty good job with the orcs. Dawn got to her feet, testing the weight of the dagger in her hand.

She made her way through the chaos, scanning the direction she'd seen Merry and Pippin wiggle. It was only through reflexes bred of months of sneaking out of the house right under the nose of a slayer that she was able to avoid being impaled by numerous un-nameable implements of battle. She learned early not to trust the motives of the horsemen. Apparently anything not on a horse was fair game to the humans. As a result she avoided both sides, twisting and weaving through the masses until they thinned around her and she gained a view of her little targets.

Her little targets that were in a-not-so-little-buttload of trouble. Dawn swore as she darted forward, catching only the end of the sentence that had Merry and Pippin cowering.

"…will save you now…"

He never heard her coming, that fact would forever bring Dawn's pride to the forefront upon retrospect. The icky bastard had no warning as she plunged the dagger down towards his back.

Where it splintered.

"Oh- "

Dawn never finished as she sailed through the air. Apparently the orc hadn't appreciated her little foray into the slaying side of the playground. She landed hard on her back, feeling the breath power out of her lungs as her eyes squeezed shut and she folded in on herself. Her body, like her mind was anticipating the attack. It never came.

Dawn opened her eyes and was met with twinkling stars and a sickeningly perfect full moon. With a grunt, she swiveled in the dirt, getting to her hands and knees as she took stock of the situation. The really, really bad situation. She watched with rising desperation as the orc advanced on her friends, neither of which seemed in any shape to put up a fight. She searched her mind desperately as she dragged herself to her feet. Just a shred of a plan, that's all she needed…just a shred…

She was weapon-less, alone and weak - not much to go on. She almost snorted. So what was new? Hadn't that always been the way? She was useless! Beyond being insanely good at being kidnapped and extremely talented at the bait side of life…

Dawn's head snapped up. A shred. Ha.

"Hey! Hey, road-kill-for-brains!"

To her partial surprise, the target orc actually turned at her cry. Dawn took a deep breath. "Yeah you! You sure you're all that hungry?" Dawn watched as, behind the orc, Merry and Pippin scrambled into the trees. Okay, mission complete…kinda. Dawn's voice rang shrilly as she spoke. "Cause - cause you know you really mustn't be if you're set on a couple of appetizers like that…"

The orc, seemingly reminded of its task, glanced in the direction of the fleeing hobbits and Dawn cursed herself before waving frantically for its attention once more.

"Hey…hey…you have a thing for legs right? Well check out these babies!"

Dawn tugged at the skirt of what she'd not-so-fondly dubbed the apocalypse dress, revealing a fair expanse of leg to the goblin. To her left, unbeknownst to Dawn, a man fell off his horse. The action had the desired effect on the orc however and Dawn grinned at the gob-smacked look on its face.

"You know over half of me is leg."

That did it.

With a yelp, Dawn dropped the hem of her skirt and dove into the forest, a salivating orc close on her heels.


	4. For the want of food

Aragorn screamed.

He screamed for his failure, he screamed for the murder rightfully his but taken by the riders…but above all he screamed his sorrow.

Three long days ago Merry and Pippin had been seized, and three long days ago he had made a vow to hunt down those that had taken his friends and take them back. And here he had closed in on them…so close…in three days…only to find them dead a sunrise passed. Uncontrollably his head turned once more to the smouldering heap that had once been a band of orcs and two young hobbits.

Two young friends…

He squeezed his eyes closed as his head bowed in defeat.

"Aragorn!"

Legolas' cry brought him out of his swamp of self-loathing…however temporarily. He raised his eyes to the elf to find a look of confusion marring his friend's face. He soon saw why.

A sword gleamed in Legolas' hand despite the charcoal smudges brushed up and down the blade – indication of its fiery position not moments before. Aragorn frowned. He knew that sword. Standing, he took the blade offered by the elf.

Yes, he knew this sword well. "Boromir's."

Legolas nodded as Gimli stepped forward. "But…how?"

Aragorn shook his head. "I know not…but it matters little… " He trailed off as his eyes fixed on a point near his feet. Crouching, he trailed a hand across the dirt.

"A hobbit lay here…" Eyes ticked to the right. "And the other."

Despite the futility of his actions he found his gaze drawn across the ground of their own accord – following the tracks of his two young friends as they scrambled about in the fray of the night passed.

"They crawled…their hands were bound."

The tracks continued further than he would have thought – the hobbits penchant for survival had obviously served them well. He felt the faintest stirring of hope in his breast. A stirring of hope that turned to a roar as his fingers dug into the newly ground dirt, unearthing a small length of rope. "Their bonds were cut!"

All three companions now became energized as fragments of the battle fell into place. Aragorn suddenly halted near the tree line and frowned, glancing back towards the sight of the slaughter. "They were followed, but not all the way - their shadow turned away while they continued on…"

He broke off as he looked up to the hobbit's destination. It was Legolas who voiced the trio's dread.

"Into Fanghorn forest."

The silence hung heavy in the air before Gimli cleared his throat loudly. "Well, c'mon, we haven't got all day…"

Despite his boast the Dwarf was the last to enter the forest and he did so with a grumble.

* * *

Dawn awoke with a start.

The shade of the forest bore down on her and she shivered, despite the more than adequate warmth of the cloak she had crawled under so many hours before. She looked down at the forest green of the material, now mud-splattered and grimy. This cloak had saved her life – more than once.

She remembered to the early hours, running from the orc.

Despite their appearances Dawn had found out the hard way the evil little creatures could move then they wanted to. The chase had turned quickly into a game. The salivating little snot had started toying with her, exhausting her in the chase so she wouldn't be able to fight when she was caught. Dawn knew of some demons at home that employed the same technique. She had been preparing to turn and take her chances in a fight when it happened. She'd tripped.

At the top of a hill no less.

There was tumbling aplenty before she'd landed in a heap at the bottom of a very steep, very muddy creek. She remembered cursing and that was it. Taking the time to swear had seen her caught. She had cowered under the cloak, shrinking away as the orc slid down the slope, landing not three feet from where she lay. Closing her eyes, she had waited for the teeth.

A full minute later it had become apparent there wasn't going to be any. Her eyes had opened tentatively and she'd peered up at the orc…who'd seemed wholly confused. She'd watched in amazement as it sniffed at the air, snorting in great gasps as it turned back and forth…searching…

Dawn had frowned under the cloak. Her eyes had widened.

The cloak!

Oh she was so going to kiss Merry when she caught up with him.

It was another ten minutes before the orc had left. Ten minutes that had seen her laying face-down in a muddy dribble of water, trying not to breathe for fear she'd be heard.

* * *

The sword glinted up into the tree tops as Aragorn turned it slowly in the filtered sunlight.

It had been barely hours since they had entered the forest; barely hours since they had drawn their weapons on the white wizard; barely hours since they'd discovered their fallen friend…not so fallen any more.

Aragorn looked up into the wizened eyes of Gandalf as he passed the sword into the wizard's hand. "I know not how it came to be there unless taken from the little ones," he said uncertainly. "But a Hobbit could barely lift such a weapon."

Gandalf did nothing to indicate he'd heard the ranger and yet seemed to be digesting the information regardless as he looked over Boromir's sword. After a time he simply nodded, as if to himself, placing the tip of the sword into the earth and allowing it to balance as the sun played over its surface. Aragorn waited for an explanation but found himself fidgeting when none was forthcoming.

Damn it. Only a wizard could make a ranger do something as mundane as fidget. Aragorn opened his mouth to enquire but was cut off as the wizard spoke. "I think we'd best be getting back to camp now, to greet the visitor."

Aragorn frowned. "What- "

But that's when he heard it - a lone snap of a twig across the clearing where the camp lay and then-

Aragorn was already running before Gimli's curses rent the air and a shrill cry rang out across the forest.

* * *

Dawn really knew she shouldn't. She'd seen enough movies featuring this exact situation to know that there was no way she was going to succeed. But she was so damn hungry!

She glanced again at the unmoving, red-haired lump near the campfire and took a deep breath. She'd come across the camp only moments ago, practically stumbling into it in an effort to find the source of the smell…that deliciously mouth-watering smell of…of…

Okay, well she didn't actually know what it was but it smelled good, and it looked edible…like nothing she'd had in the past three days. As if in agreement, her stomach gave a little growl and she shifted uncomfortably, again looking to see any action in the frizzy lump.

It snored and Dawn jumped before hurriedly backing behind a tree. Not good, not good, not good…but oh lord she was too hungry to care.

With a careful stealth, she slipped out of the forest and to the edge of the clearing, exposing herself but beyond caring as her sights fixed on the meat beside the fire's edge. Well now that presented a problem. The…thing - whatever it was - snoring near the fire was directly obstructing her path to the food. In a big way. Dawn swore silently. One look at the meat however and she slipped into a resolve face to make even Willow proud.

There was nothing for it - she was going to have to reach over the snoring lump.

Shaking (from hunger or terror, Dawn couldn't tell) she approached the mass of material. Of course it had to be a fairly high mass - Dawn rolled her eyes - lord forbid this be easy. She inched, a step at a time, until she was practically on top of the figure…then closed her eyes at the irony of the thought as she lifted her foot over the silent lump.

Wait…silent?

The air was suddenly rent with an animal-like growl as the lump rolled and Dawn cried out at the sight of the rumbling mass of beard, frizz and leathery skin that looked up at her angrily.

"Sneak up on a Dwarf will ya!"

Dawn lost track of the remainder of the curses being issued by the little monster as she suddenly found herself face down on the forest floor, her legs having been kicked painfully out from under her. Taking only a moment to attack her bearings and wrestle them to some semblance of order, she spat leaves from her mouth as she pushed up from the ground…and froze.

Who would have thought that Dwarves could move so fast? Really, Dawn surmised, you would think the beard would get in the way at least, not to mention the shortness of appendages. But Dawn was quickly coming to the conclusion that none of these apparent drawbacks affected this particular individual in the least. If the fact that he was on his feet before she had even managed to rid her mouth of the last and very nasty tasting leaf wasn't proof enough, the axe blade at her throat certainly brought the message home.

Dawn went to swallow nervously but thought against it as the axe shaved across her skin.

"Gimli!"

The cry was accompanied by a rush of movement from the side of the camp and the axe inched slightly away from Dawn's neck. It was the opening she had been waiting for. She caught a brief glimpse of a dark, rugged looking man bounding from the trees before she struck, throwing her elbow back into the stomach of her attacker.

Or it would have been his stomach had he been a few feet taller.

A sound much like that of a strangling gerbil came from behind her. The axe fell from the dwarf's hand as he stumbled backwards, clutching at a rather tender piece of his anatomy just shown how tender it could be. Dawn was already moving by the time he fell. Taking quick stock of the situation, she did what any teenager in her situation would. She climbed a tree. Or perhaps, more accurately, she flew up a tree. Dawn could never remember how precisely she had ended up on the branch ten feet above the ground, only that she had and, in the process, thoroughly trapped herself.

She watched from her perch as the man checked the dwarf, leaving the little man to curse and spit after a moment to turn and look up at her. "We mean you no harm."

Dawn almost laughed, but stopped herself, just knowing it would turn hysterical. "Yeah, tell that to short, red and axe-y down there," she called.

She almost flinched at the shrill note present in her voice. Having an axe at your neck obviously did nothing in the way of soothing vocal cords. The dwarf went even redder, if possible, and opened his mouth to comment before being silenced by the man.

"Please come down little one."

Dawn snorted nervously. "And have my neck flayed?" She shook her head pointedly. "Nah, I think I'll stick around up here thanks."

"Well, if you insist, but could you move a tad to the left hon, your hair is tickling my nose something awful."

The silence following the alien comment was thick enough to suffocate a herd of buffalo. Ever so slowly, Dawn turned eyes wide enough to rival a dinner plate to the tree she had taken haven in.

The tree blinked at her.

Dawn screamed. The tree screamed back and all of a sudden Dawn felt her balance take a long walk off a short pier as she lost her grip on the very…animated…branch. She was halfway to the ground before she got over her initial shock enough to realize she was falling. She closed her eyes, waiting to hit hard earth. Her impact however, was much easier than predicted. Most probably due to the rather soft individual she landed on.

Dawn felt her breath power out of her lungs and yelped painfully as she, and whoever she'd hit, landed awkwardly on hard earth.

Again with the suffocating buffalo.

It took a few moments before Dawn got up both the strength and the courage to lift herself up enough to look into the face of her human pillow. When she did, she froze.

Perhaps 'human' was a bit of a hit and miss on the description front.

Confused blue eyes gazed up at her from an equally confused face - cute yes, but most certainly confused. Yet, despite the stare-worthiness of the individual Dawn found herself nose to nose, chest to chest and…other place to other place with, it wasn't his face that caused her eyes to do the impossible and widen more.

It was the hair…and the ears.

"Oh…"


	5. An Ent called George

Legolas had travelled long and far despite his young years and in that time he had heard many tales. Not surprisingly the one that struck him now concerned the telling of creatures in the wooded lands to the South. Stealthiest of beasts, they hunted by dropping down from the trees on unsuspecting victims and tearing into their flesh with serrated claws. They were said to be a most vicious fiend.

Legolas couldn't help thinking the creature now on top of him was anything but.

Despite the rude entrance, the mud, the ruthless tangle of dark hair and the rather heinous smell, Legolas was sure the beast was mortal – a daughter of man if he had to guess, and a young one at that.

Her eyes were impossibly wide and quite an amazing shade of blue, even for one of the elf-folk. Her open mouth seemed to be struggling to find some form of speech.

"Oh…"

"Legolas!"

The girl gasped, pushing up off the ground and rolling to the side, amazingly not taking his ability to have young ones with her as her knee skimmed a rather touchy area. Within seconds she was on her feet and facing off against the three of them and…a tree? Something inside of him leaped. An Ent! He was in the company of a Tree Herder! Accepting a hand up from Aragorn, he gave his enthusiasm a mental push to the side. First things first.

He never broke his watch on the girl even as he gained his feet and she shifted nervously, looking about ready to bolt.

"Child if you will- "

The girl shook her head even before Aragorn had finished his sentence. Legolas couldn't help noticing the rest of her shook with it. Exhaustion perhaps? Or an unspoken pain?

"No I don't think I will anything," She spoke boldly before ruining the effect by taking a hasty stumble back as Aragorn approached a step toward her.

"Don't -"

The tremble in her voice hindered the authority she obviously sought to convey but Legolas felt a spark of admiration nonetheless. The girl had strength. Cornered, shivering and covered in mud, she still searched for an escape. It showed in her eyes and in her stance, Legolas couldn't miss it.

He doubted Aragorn had either.

"Child- "

"I'M NOT A FREAKING CHILD!"

Shrill. There was no other word for it. Legolas' ears rung.

"God, you sound just like my sister," the girl huffed bitterly going to cross her arms but pausing halfway before dropping them back to her side. Legolas' eyes narrowed at the gesture. He was kept from commenting by the entrance of the last of their mottled group.

"I assure you lady; no one is trying to sound like your sister."

* * *

Dawn was not having a good day. Then homeless Santa crashed the party. Overall the man sort of reminded her of her grandfather…well if her pops had ever had a beard to rival a country music singer and a staff fit for a…

"Wizard."

She didn't realise she'd spoken out loud until the group nodded as one. Even the tree. Dawn pointed up at the leaved creature. "Talking tree…" she continued pointing at each in turn. "Dwarf…elf…" She paused as she reached the leader of the group. She looked him over suspiciously. "And what are you? A leprechaun?"

None of the group seemed to grasp the comment bar the wizard whose eyes crinkled just that little bit more at her question. "I assure you lady, Aragorn is quite as mortal as you are."

Dawn almost snorted. Yeah, cause she was the epitome of mortality…not.

"You're Aragorn?" She confirmed, pointing again at tall dark and leader-y. He nodded before pointing to each of his companions in turn.

"And there is Gandalf, Gimli son of Gloin and Legolas, of the woodland realm."

Dawn's gaze fell once more on the…elf. Woodland realm huh? Their introductions were suddenly interrupted by a voice sounding of woodchips and rustling.

"Well my name's George…"

Everyone turned to the previously screaming tree and simply blinked, an action to which the plant seemed to take offense. Dawn watched in mild shock as the tree pouted - yes pouted - and shifted its branches moodily.

"In case anyone wanted to know," it finished in a sulk fit to rival Spike. It completed the picture by folding a couple of branches in front of it like a person would do when crossing their arms. Dawn couldn't help the grin that slid across her features.

* * *

Legolas watched in amazement as the girl grinned up at the Ent. Grinned for Valar's sake! Here she was, a young daughter of man, covered in grime and shaking from exhaustion, faced with a tree herder of old and she was grinning at it.

"Nice to meet'ya George."

He really didn't know what was stranger; the fact that the Ent was called George or that it had begun to grin right back as soon as the girl had spoken. An Ent grinning was certainly a sight to behold.

"And what's your name deary?"

Oh the Elves back home where never going to believe that he had met an Ent that said things like 'deary'. Legolas was brought out of his musings as the girl shifted uncomfortably once more and flicked her eyes around at them all. "Ah…Dawn."

"Well Dawn," Gandalf spoke surely stepping forward. "Would you perhaps give us the pleasure of your company for a time?"

Legolas watched as the girl's eyes again flickered over their assembled group before pausing to his right. Legolas almost rolled his eyes at the trepidation he saw in her own as she looked upon Gimli who was no doubt scowling his dwarven face off. Sure enough when he sent his companion a reproachful look the Dwarf never broke glaring contact with the girl.

"Ah…I'm not so sure- "

"You are most welcome to dine with us of course," Gandalf cut in on the girl's retreat and Legolas watched in part amusement as she froze, her eyes darting to the meat by the campfire. She seemed to struggle with herself for a moment before her mind settled - or rather, her stomach shoved her into her decision by issuing a rather loud growl.

"You put some food in my stomach and you can shave me, wax me and use me for a surf board."

Legolas hoped he wasn't the only one confused beyond belief as Gandalf threw back his head and laughed like there was no tomorrow.


	6. Conversations

Dinner was…..interesting.

The meat, as it turned out, was spitted hare which was delicious, despite the fact Dawn kept getting bugs bunny re-runs playing in her head every time she took a bite. Chatter was kept to a minimum probably, Dawn could admit, because the company was struck speechless by her amazing lack of table manners as she shoveled food into her mouth.

The questions she knew every one of her observers were itching to ask were thankfully staved off until after she'd finished being a pig. It wasn't until she was sitting back, petting her stomach like a happy gorilla that the queries started. Even then, they started unusually. Gandalf was the first to speak.

"So my dear, how are you finding Fanghorn forest?"

Dawn blinked at him. She wasn't the only one. The wizard however seemed not to notice as he leaned back on a log and looked around their surroundings as if taking in a marvelous scene.

"I personally find myself at home amongst these trees strangely enough," the old wizard continued happily. "I like to walk the paths of the forest, turning things over in my head, giving myself time to think about the things that really need thinking about."

Dawn thought of her own experience on the 'paths of the forest'. Somehow she didn't think she'd gotten very much turned over in her head unless it'd had to do with running for her life.

"It just so happened that I was on one such walk the day before yesterday when I came upon two young friends in the forest," Gandalf continued. Dawn couldn't help but feel he was making a point of not looking at her as he said this. "Well imagine my surprise, coming across these dear companions. Though of course that was nothing to the story they had to tell."

Gandalf's gaze suddenly swiveled to Dawn and she frowned as she took a sip from her cup.

"Kidnapped by orcs they said-"

Dawn choked on her drink and Aragorn had to pat her on the back before she could get her breath back. "Merry and Pippin?" she spluttered finally. "You – you saw them? Are they okay?"

Very suddenly, all eyes were on her. Gimli frowned at her – well more than usual anyway. "You know the Hobbits?"

Dawn looked around at everyone before her gaze fell on Gandalf. Oh that sly son of a –

"Yes, I do. But you already knew that didn't you?"

Gandalf's eyes twinkled something fierce. "They may have mentioned you."

"Well where are they? Are they okay?" she asked, leaning forward eagerly.

"They are quite fine, I assure you. I have left them in the care of a good friend of mine. They will be safe."

Dawn nodded slowly and shifted her feet. She didn't notice Aragorn's gaze following the movement and his eyes widening.

"You were at the battle."

Dawn looked up at him then followed his gaze down to her feet. She frowned.

"Your tracks. You were right beside them when it happened," Aragorn said, then paused with a frown. "But how…"

Dawn took pity on him. "I think they thought I was like Merry and Pippin, that's why I was taken."

Gimli looked her up and down. "Mighty bad eyes on an orc," he said.

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Well dah."

"Taken from where?" Aragorn interrupted. Dawn stared at him a full moment before she realised she was supposed to answer.

"Well…I don't actually know."

"You don't know?"

"There was a man." Dawn ducked her head. "He was…he was fighting the orcs. He was losing."

Dawn fell silent as the images played in front of her eyes. She could almost feel his sword in her hand again. Gandalf's voice broke her silence softly.

"The mystery of Boromir's sword having travelled so far."

Legolas suddenly sat up a bit straighter. "You were at Amon Hen!"

Dawn's brow crumpled in confusion. "I was at a chicken?"

"Amon Hen my dear," said Gandalf, taking pity on her while failing abysmally to hide his amusement. "That was where the orcs would have taken you from."

"How did you come to be at Amon Hen my lady?" Aragorn asked.

Dawn felt everything still around her. Suddenly she was back up on the tower, running towards the edge. "I…don't remember," she lied.

Gimli snorted. "Ye don't remember?"

"No I don't," Dawn snapped, perhaps a little too quickly. For a moment everyone just looked at her. Dawn wiped her hands on her legs. "I'd like to go to sleep now."

Gandalf nodded, throwing Gimli a look that kept all comments firmly behind the dwarf's lips.

"Certainly. It is late and we all have a way to travel in the morning."

Dawn stared down at her feet and didn't make comment that she seemed to have been included in the company's plans. Around her the others made ready to bunk down. Dawn rose silently only to be startled back onto her backside as her view was taken over by George's great craggy face.

"C'mon dear, you can sleep by me."

Dawn didn't know what to say but one look at Gimli's still scowling face told her that having a big tree nearby may be a good idea. With a slight nod she allowed herself to be led over to the edge of the camp and settled herself in amongst George's roots to sleep. She had her doubts on her impending comfort at first but really needn't have worried. She was dead gone by the time she'd pulled Merry's cloak over her.

By the time morning came she was well-rested and a little more cheerful. Granted, she smelled worse than ever but she'd heard from Gandalf that they were headed towards a city. Civilisation. Needless to say she spent most of the way fantasising about giant bath-tubs.


	7. Gates, Doors and Candleabras

The great gates of Edoras rose to the sky, a stark and hard contrast to the waves of rolling grass Dawn had been forced to watch for the past who-know-how-many hours. It cast a cold chill down her spine. Gandalf had warned them all as they had crested the final hill not to look for welcome at their destination. It wasn't until she was standing at the firmly barred gates that she fully comprehended his vehemence.

Shouts went up from inside the wooden pillars and, as the gate was eased open and Gandalf put forward his errand to the gate-keepers, Dawn turned in her position perched on the back of Shadowfax and let her gaze wonder back to where they had left George.

The Ent had been in no way eager to approach the city made with a domination of wood and had instead opted to 'plant roots', as he had called it, around and to the south of the city; a blind spot, Gandalf had mentioned, to the soldiers of Rohan. Dawn had offered the Ent the choice of returning to his wood. He'd taken quite a liking to her and had come so far out of his way already to see them to Edoras. But George had shaken his great leaved head.

"Ain't my wood darlin'," he had said simply, thoroughly confusing the hell out of Dawn but causing Gandalf to nod. Their parting forced Dawn to give up her travelling position up in Georges branches and she'd been riding with Gandalf, perched in front of him on the back of Shadowfax since.

At first Dawn had been uncertain about the position. If Gandalf were to feel the need to steady her with an arm about the waist, she knew there was no way her wounds would go unnoticed as they had since her arrival. But luckily, Shadowfax turned out to be a smoother ride than Giles' old sports car - at least when Giles wasn't driving it - and the Wizard seemed to be instinctively staying away from her areas of pain.

Dawn leaned forward and stroked the silver stallion's neck. She really didn't see what Legolas was on about - Shadowfax certainly wasn't a mere ass.

A call was given up and Gandalf mounted the horse behind her once more as the gates to the city were opened and the party made their way through, entering onto a rough-hewn and rock-littered street. The horses made their way slowly and almost, Dawn realized, cautiously up the slope towards the gold-hewn structure at its crown. Not that she could blame them.

"You'd find more cheer in a graveyard." Gimli's rough comment seemed to be smothered in the tension on the air and Dawn couldn't help the shiver that travelled down her spine as her eyes met Legolas'. Then again, that may not have been the welcoming.

There was certainly no denying the elf was all kinds of hotness and Dawn did have a history for crushing on anything that moved. Damnit.

Their horses were taken at the foot of a great flight of stairs that right-angled its way up to a platform of finely formed stone and a door with more guards than Ben Affleck's jock drawer. The great hall of Meadow-lea…..or Meadows-end or something along those lines. Dawn had never been good with names. As they reached the door Dawn barely had time to finish cursing the inventor of stairs before the hinges creaked and yet more guards arrived on the scene. Dawn rolled her eyes.

"We cannot let you before the King so armed, Gandalf Greyhame," an orange-haired man at the front of the procession spoke and Dawn watched as all of her companions stiffened slightly bar Gandalf who simply looked at the guard, obviously awaiting an explanation. The man's face seemed to tighten into an expression Dawn recognized clearly as one of hidden disgust as he only just kept himself from spitting his next words. "By order of…Grima Wormtongue…"

Dawn suddenly understood his expression - anyone with a name like that really couldn't be pretty. Gandalf's head lowered slightly and he nodded to his companions who started unburdening themselves of the portable armoury they seemed to have been carting around in the hot sun. It was a wonder they could move.

Dawn found herself fighting down a laugh as the poor man opting to take Gimli's weapons became increasingly stooped as axe after axe was placed into his straining arms. Her eyes swept to Legolas who also had his fair share of hidden blades - though his arsenal was decidedly more subtle than the dwarf's choices. Gandalf himself unstrapped a sword from his belt and Aragorn laid down his share of military paraphernalia. Dawn frowned as not one, but two swords were placed down with the ranger's load and couldn't help the shiver of recognition at the second blade.

"Your staff."

Dawn's head whipped around at the door-warden's words and she watched as Gandalf chuckled a little uneasily and Aragorn sent the Wizard's staff a sharp look. Oh she so knew that thing was more than what it seemed. Just as the silence was hitting suspicious levels Dawn stepped forward and, putting on her best Oliver Twist expression, looked up into the face of the door warden imploringly.

"Please Sir, we've come so far, and Mr. Gandalf isn't as young as he once was…surely you wouldn't take his only means of support?"

The door-warden looked down at her and Dawn knew what he saw. A young girl, innocent and honest, obviously downtrodden of late and simply radiating concern for a man she obviously considered her own grandfather or a close enough approximation. Dawn forced a few tears to the forefront as well, just to give her eyes that un-disappointable glassy look Buffy hated so much.

The group of men caved like a rendition of her sister's love life, many giving her sympathetic looks as they stepped aside at the door-warden's nod. Dawn nodded to them, her innocence and gratefulness shining at three-hundred watts as she turned back to her companions and very pointedly took Gandalf's arm in the crook of her own. A swift wink and a smirk up to his amused face and she turned back, her good-little-girl expression firmly back in place as she led the group into the building.

The hall was long and dark, lit only with very sparse candles set into man-sized holders of brass lined along the alcoves. Designed obviously with horses in mind, the hall, Dawn thought, would have made a noble establishment…if not currently housing some of the slimiest people Dawn had seen in a good while.

They prowled the shadows, their hair lank around their features as they watched the group make their way down the stone floor towards the dais; the only part of the structure besides the door, bathed in semi-light. Dawn allowed her eyes to flicker momentarily to the throne perched there and the figure slumped in it before she returned her attention to the danger circling them.

"The hospitality of your hall is somewhat lessened of late, Théoden King." Gandalf's voice boomed through the heavy silence and he dropped his arm from hers, obviously finding the charade to have run its course. Dawn returned her eyes to the front as a husky and rather pathetic answer struggled its way from the lips of the man slouched there.

"Why should I welcome you? Gandalf Stormcrow…"

Dawn almost rolled her eyes. What was with these people and names? Instead, she watched as a squat pile of what she'd thought was black rags turned away from the King and unfurled to become a very pale, very lanky, very greasy man. Her nose wrinkled in disgust. Grima Wormtongue she presumed?

"Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear. Lath-spell I name him, ill-news is an ill guest…"

Dawn almost winced in sympathy to Gandalf as the last of the slimy man's comments was breathed directly into the wizard's face. Judging by those teeth, it can't have been pleasant.

"Hush!" Gandalf's command rang sharply in the darkness. "Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth! I did not travel through fire and death to merely bandy words with a witless worm!"

Wormtongue's pigment-less eyes closed over in feint apprehension at the wizard's words. Then his gaze flickered over to the shadows off to the side. Dawn didn't need to look to know that the slimy guys had closed ranks.

"This isn't good." She hadn't meant to be heard and almost jumped when Legolas stepped up to her side.

"No, it is not," he spoke softly and Dawn's eyes caught in his for a moment. "Keep your wits Lady Dawn."

That was her only warning as Wormtongue's strangled cry went up from in front of them and her head whipped around to see his eyes fixated in terror on Gandalf's revealed staff.

"I told you to take the wizard's staff!"

Suddenly everything exploded into action and Dawn whirled around in time to see Legolas smash a fist into an advancing slimy guy taking him effectively out of the game. It was obvious the attackers were trying to get to Gandalf who was approaching the dais with determination, his staff held high, but they were having little success. On one side of the wizard, Gimli and Legolas took out any and all who approached their friend while Aragorn covered the other side effectively on his own.

Well, almost effectively. Dawn's eyes landed on one of the free-standing, wrought-iron candle holders.

* * *

Legolas grunted slightly as yet another of Wormtongue's men fell and spared a glance around to see how his companions were faring. Gandalf had near reached the king, unharmed as was their hope and Gimli was busy bringing yet another of the attackers down with a tackle to the knees. Legolas almost smiled as the delighted roar of the dwarf rang out over the cries of battle.

Aragorn on the other hand was not faring as well. One ruffian was proving a struggle and another had begun to approach from behind the ranger, a knife plainly in hand. Legolas stepped forward, about to yell a warning to his friend when the knife came sailing through the air, landing at his feet. He blinked; surely he had seen wrong?

But no, she was still there, the former knife-wielder lying crumpled at her feet as she swung the candelabra to the right this time and took out another of the assassins. Legolas had to grin. Who was this maiden? He sensed the approach from behind and brought his fist up sharply over his shoulder, feeling the satisfying crack of bone as the man who had charged from behind practically ran into the blow.

Across the hall, the Lady Dawn took down the last of Wormtongue's men with one fell swing and the forked-tongued manipulator himself, obviously having been caught in the chaos rolled onto his back not far from where Legolas himself stood. Gimli's foot came down hard on the king's adviser.

"I would not move if I were you," the dwarf growled. All eyes suddenly turned to the front as Gandalf addressed the king of Rohan.

* * *

As Gandalf spoke Dawn dropped one end of the heavy candelabra to the stone floor with a grunt as her hand went automatically to her side. It came away bloody and Dawn groaned. She'd broken one of her scabs when she'd twisted that last time and the recent wound was bleeding freely. Her head came up suddenly at the sound of the laughing. Low and rasping it sounded like an eighty year old smoke-a-holic's. It was coming from the lumped figure on the throne.

"You hold no power here, Gandalf the Grey…"

Dawn frowned. Grey? Gandalf suddenly swept his cloak aside revealing a glowing countenance. "I will draw you Sauroman as poison is drawn from a wound."

Dawn could only watch in horrified fascination as the king of Rohan writhed beneath the wizard's attentions. Her attention was so taken with the spectacle, she was surprised she even heard the gasp. Turning, she saw a woman in white enter the hall from the side, her eyes round as she took in the scene. Dawn moved at the same time she did, intercepting the woman before she reached the dais and the two struggling upon it. She reached out and grabbed the woman's arm, pulling her around to a halt and causing her golden hair to far out around her. The fearful gaze she turned on Dawn spoke volumes of the care the woman had for the crumpled figure on the throne and Dawn squeezed her arm in reassurance.

"Just wait…please."

She really hoped she was doing the right thing. Truth be told she knew very little of the group she'd fallen in with, though they seemed to be of the good. Both girls turned their attention back to the dais as Théoden spoke…but in a voice that clearly wasn't his.

"If I go, Théoden dies…"

Dawn's eyes narrowed at the hissed growl and she felt the woman by her side stiffen in shock.

"You did not kill me; you will not kill him!"

"Rohan is mine!"

Dawn really couldn't help it, she'd heard the same line over and over from demons that later became very dead, usually as a result of her sister. It was an old line.

And so she scoffed. Unfortunately she did so loud enough to get everyone's attention.

Everyone's eyes swung to her, including those of the thing possessing the king. For a moment his eyes simply bored into her hatefully before suddenly something within them seemed to spark. "It couldn't be…"

It was said as a whisper but was heard by all and Dawn shivered as, slowly, a knowing and malicious smile lifted the edges of the king's lips. Gandalf's gaze slid from Théoden to Dawn and back again before he shifted his staff with a swift jolt, causing the king to be thrown back into the throne.

"Be gone!" he commanded and the king, or whatever possessed him growled up at the wizard. His eyes flickered back to her the moment he sprang forward for an attack on Gandalf and in that moment Dawn knew.

He knew what she was.

The knowledge stunned her into stillness for a moment as, for the final time, Théoden King was thrown back against his throne, this time moaning. The woman in white beside her pulled out of her slack grasp and ran to the dais, catching the king a moment before he slumped to the floor.

Dawn watched in a slight stupor as the old king grew…not so old and the woman - Eowyn the king called her - was reunited with a man she obviously cared for deeply. It hardly even registered as Théoden was presented with his sword, though obviously everyone else thought it was a momentous event. The blade glinted in the light as if made of fire as the king turned it lovingly in his hand. Then his eyes became hard and no one in the room missed the fury in his stance as his eyes flicked to his royal-adviser. That was when Wormtongue, thoroughly terrified out of his wits, made his last, desperate move.

He kicked out and Gimli fell with a grunt and a growl, unable to right himself in time to stop the traitor's scramble to one of the side doors; the side door Eowyn had entered by in fact. The side door Dawn was amazingly close to. As a result, Dawn suddenly found herself being charged by a desperate and vicious looking slime ball. She wrinkled her nose and stepped back out of his way as he streaked past, only at the last possible moment raising her foot. Wormtongue sailed through the air and slammed unceremoniously into the wall. Dawn retracted the foot she'd used to trip him as she gave the glowering adviser a winning smile.

"Whoops."


	8. Meetings

To anyone watching her, Eowen, daughter of Eomen was the very picture of calm and serenity. Even as her uncle's most trusted adviser was thrust from the peak of the stairs and sent rolling painfully to the bottom to a symphony of cracks that could only be human ribs, the shield-maiden's face remained impassive, icy, perfect. It really rather belied the fact that on the inside she was screaming her relief and joy.

Her eyes flashed narrowly down at Wormtongue when he dared flicker his gaze in her direction as her uncle advanced on him. His pitiful cries did nothing but solidify the disgust she held in her heart for the vile creature.

"Send me not from your sight!"

The only regret she really had with the whole ordeal was the sorrowful fact that it could not be her raising the sword. It could not be her cleaving the worm's head from his shoulders...it could not be her feeling the hot spray of blood on her cheeks...

Her breath quickened in barely contained excitement as her uncle raised his broad sword, his yell ringing clear through the crisp air. Then the ranger stepped forward. It was almost a physical blow as the sword's decent was halted and somewhere, deep inside, Eowyn found the strength to stay the cry of dismay bubbling up in her throat.

It was with a heavy heart that she watched her tormentor for the past age push a path through the townspeople and ride to his escape...his freedom: the very right of hers he had manipulated at will since his arrival. A sigh passed her lips of its own accord as she ducked her head, not even the sight of her uncle regaining his respect enough to lift her spirits. Perhaps it was this sigh that gained her the attention of the elf at her side for, unbeknownst to her at the time, he turned his head to observe the lady at his side...and he saw something that disturbed.

"My lady, you are bleeding!"

Eowyn turned and looked into the concerned gaze of the elf at her side, his words, for a moment, not registering in the disappointed haze of her mind. Then her brow crumpled in confusion. Bleeding? Following the elf's gaze to her arm she saw that there was in fact blood on her sleeve. Her puzzlement deepened...she wasn't hurt...

Her eyes widened slightly as she recalled the feel of a hand latching onto her arm. Seemingly of their own accord, her eyes ticked over the elf's shoulder and rested on the girl, the traveller that had stopped her in her rush to the king. The girl was already looking back, obviously listening in on their exchange. The moment their eyes met the girl's also widened and she looked down at her hand. Even from her vantage, Eowyn couldn't mistake the smear of red on the girl's palm. Hastily, as if being caught in an unscrupulous act, the girl whipped her hand behind her back and looked up at her sharply, the message of desired secrecy clear in her eyes.

Oh Eowyn's good will was going to be the death of her.

"Oh!" The gasp sounded fake even to her own ears. "Oh goodness, so I am!"

She offered a convincing smile up at the elf at her side, hoping the suspicion in his eyes was just her imagination.

"I'll just...ah...I'll just get that seen to...If you'll excuse me?"

There was a moment of uncertainty where Eowyn struggled with herself not to look over at the girl again, knowing it would be a tell-tale gesture, before the elf nodded and she bobbed slightly in thanks. Within two strides she was in front of the girl, the feel of the elf's gaze hot on her back.

"My lady, you must be in need of rest and refreshment after your travels...will you not accompany me?"

The offer was spoken both loud and pointedly as she fixed the girl with a look that plainly indicated that she had better capitulate. The girl, obviously not slow and also most obviously nervous as hell, nodded quickly, ticking a gaze behind her where Eowyn knew the elf still watched.

"Yeah, that'd be great..."

The acceptance had barely left her lips before the two girls were indoors, both missing the curious and halting step of the elf their direction and the dwarf's hand on his arm that stayed him.

* * *

Dawn breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed behind them. The room to which she had been led didn't seem all that different than the front hall apart from the size. The same horse motifs adorned the woodwork patterning on the walls and even the head of the bed centered in the middle of the room.

"So...horses a big thing for you guys huh?" She knew as soon as she said it she'd made a huge moron of herself. The look on Eowyn's face as she turned from the door only compounded the fact. Dawn rolled her eyes at herself and proceeded to stand silently like the dork she was. Eowyn herself seemed to take this as an olive branch and smiled slightly.

"Yes - our people value all creatures but none more so that the noble horse," the woman explained. "It is because of them that we survive and flourish so." As she spoke, the lady moved across the room and to a small, ornately carved wooden cupboard and twisted a key in its lock. "Please forgive my informality, as we have not yet even been properly introduced, but from where are you bleeding my lady?"

Dawn sighed. She knew the question was coming of course and a part of her was grateful for the fact it was no longer necessary to cover her discomfort in the company of at least one person... But then, she was as stubborn as her sister in many respects. She hated admitting when she was in pain.

"Well...I have some recent...well, not all that recent really...they're not even all that bad and...well they hurt less now..." She knew she was rambling; stumbling over the words in a very Willow-esque way but couldn't seem to help herself. Eowyn, as it turned out, could.

"Where?"

The commanding question caught Dawn off guard and before she realized what she was doing she had gestured to her stomach where the blood from the broken scab was newly drying on her apocalypse dress. No sooner had she indicated, Eowyn was by her side and leading her to the bed.

"My name is Eowyn, daughter of Eomen - I thought it best I tell you that before I go so far as to ask you to remove your garments my lady."

It took Dawn a moment to cipher through all the nobility in the sentence before she came up with the point. "Oh...ah, right...okay."

It proved more troublesome than it was worth to remove the dress as Dawn winced and hissed her way through the process but finally, after aid from Eowyn, the offending garment lay in a crumpled heap on the floor. Dawn stepped and sat on the bed as indicated by Eowyn. Eowyn's gaze flickered over her Scooby boxers and top in puzzled curiosity for a moment before she indicated to Dawn to lift the torn midsection of her shirt.

Dawn was glad she hadn't looked down when Eowyn gasped lightly.

"What - what did this to you?"

Dawn's eyes darkened at the memory. "Knife."

Eowyn obviously caught the pain in the word and so, to Dawn's relief let the subject drop as she went to work on the wounds. Dawn winced.

"Dawn!" she yelped.

The work on her midsection halted as Eowyn looked up at her curiously. "I beg your pardon?"

Dawn smiled, realising how her introduction had come out. "That's my name...Dawn."

Eowyn smiled as she went back to work. "I am pleased to meet you Lady Dawn."

* * *

To say that Legolas was suspicious would have been the understatement of the age. He had practically tasted the falsehoods of the lady Eowyn in the air regarding the blood on her sleeve and that in itself was bothering him greatly. The added fact that it had something to do with the Lady Dawn was turning him into a bundle of highly-strung and extremely fidgety nerves.

"Fer the sake of my sanity could ye stop bouncing yer leg elf!" Gimli growled. "Yer rockin' the whole blasted bench!"

Legolas halted his foot mid-tap and glanced at the door again. Gimli, next to him, frowned at his behaviour. When he'd complained he really hadn't expected the damnable elf to stop. Quite the opposite. Legolas seemed to take a lot of amusement in annoying the life out of him and so anything that added to his fun - like his foot tapping - was only likely to escalate once he knew the effect it was having. But it hadn't. The blasted pointy-ear had stopped. And just what was so damn fascinating about the door?

"The lady's Eowyn and Dawn have been gone a while have they not?"

Gimli speared a baked potato off the plate in front of him and shrugged.

"Girl's probably settlin' herself back in. Talkin' about fancy dresses and finery and all that. With the attitude on that one there can be no doubt she's a nob."

"Dawn is not pretentious."

"Oh Dawn is it now? Since when are you on a first name basis with the girl Master Elf?"

Gimli turned his head to throw a mocking glance up at his companion but paused at the look on the elf's face. Complete and utter astonishment. Legolas' looked as though he'd just been slapped with a fish.

Gimli followed his gaze to the door. The lady Eowyn had returned and was heading for the table across from them where Gandalf, Théoden and Aragorn had seated themselves to talk about pressing matters. Next to her, Gimli could only assume, was the girl they'd been dragging about the forest for the past few days, though she certainly didn't look it. She'd obviously been for a bath. Or two or three perhaps, given her state before. Some brush had worked a miracle with her hair and Eowyn had obviously lent her one of her more flattering garments. Gimli grunted and turned back to his food.

"I'm gonna take Eowyn to meet George kay?" The Lady Dawn's voice carried across the room as she informed the 'pressing matters' table of her intentions. A moment later she was passing theirs, her face colouring slightly as she nodded her head at them. Gimli jabbed his fork in the air in a semblance of a greeting. Legolas still remained silent. Gimli turned to him as the girls disappeared out the door. The elf's eyes had obviously tracked the Ladies across the room as his fish-smacked expression was now pointed toward the door they'd left via. Gimli looked from Legolas to the door then back to Legolas then down the elf's untouched plate. He burped.

"You gunna finish that?"

* * *

The walk around the city's battlements lasted a little over a half of an hour and was made in silence until the two girls approached the last of the bends before the northern wall. Eowyn glanced at the girl by her side out of the corner of her eye.

"Forgive my boldness Lady..."

The girl held up a hand. "Dawn, please just call me Dawn."

Eowyn smiled. "Dawn...again; forgive me but...if you wouldn't mind telling...what is the relationship between yourself and the Master Elf?"

Dawn's next step was heavy, as if she had forgotten what she was doing mid-stride. "Legolas?"

Eowyn only just kept the grin off her face as the girl's cheeks coloured almost instantly upon voicing his name.

"Nothing! I mean...we're just friends...or, acquaintances really...I don't really know him that well and..."

Dawn seemed to mentally blockade herself from going further and it was all Eowyn could do not to laugh when the girl closed her eyes for a moment, seeming to be seeking some sort of fortitude.

"Why do you ask?"

Eowyn turned to hide her grin as they rounded the bend in the fence. "Oh, no reason..."

She sounded as innocent as warg in a pig enclosure but Dawn was never given the chance to inquire further as Eowyn gasped and her eyes widened. Standing before her, at well over twenty feet tall was the strangest creature she had ever laid eyes on. Out of the corner of her eye she caught Dawn grinning.

"Eowyn, meet George."

Three quarters of an hour later Eowyn knew, without a doubt, George the Ent was the most delightful individual she had ever met.

George rustled his leaves as he giggled and Eowyn had to hold her stomach it was hurting so much from the laughter.

"That elf never knew what 'it 'im, did he sweet-cheeks?"

Eowyn laughed harder as Dawn ducked her head to hide her blush and tried to imagine the shy girl crashing into the dignified and serious-appearing elf that had arrived that morning.

"I'm surprised you had time to take notice while you were screaming like a little girl," Dawn poked back at the Ent and Eowyn shifted her gaze to the trapped looking tree-herder.

"A little girl?" She confirmed and George looked amusingly awkward.

"Well, I was surprised wasn't I? Din't expect her to start yellin' her pretty little head off at me."

Eowyn cracked up laughing again as, behind Georges back, Dawn did a spirited imitation of a frightened and crazed Ent complete with waving leaves she'd emulated by ripping up clumps of grass and decorating her head with them. Feeling the strain the laughter was having on her body, she looked away from the tear-inducing sight and let her gaze slide over the horizon as she tried to gain control of her mirth. It was then that her eyes caught on an unusual sight.

All laughter died as her two companions also caught sight of the duo cresting the hill on horseback. A boy and a girl by the looks of it, and children no less. A foreboding shiver shuttled down her spine as a wind whipped across the plane, seeming ominous in retrospect.

And the boy fell from the horse.


	9. Trust

Dawn swept her hand lightly over the horse's smooth coat, feeling the liquid ripple of muscles under her palm.

"Eothain's well now that he has a full stomach...is your stomach full Gerald?"

Dawn smiled slightly as she watched the fair-haired girl frown down at the horse's full feed trough. The look Freda gave Gerald upon realising most of the hay was still there was priceless.

"Mamma always says you have to eat your greens because they're good for you."

Dawn almost laughed when Gerald looked down at his young owner and snorted.

"Maybe he's saving them for later," she supplied and Freda turned her disapproving gaze on her for a moment before going back to the horse.

"And where's your blanket Gerald? Papa says if you throw one more blanket in the mud he's going to sell you to the Easterlings."

Dawn petted the poor horse once more and left him to his fate as she moved to the gate of the stall and down to the last in the shelter. It had been a little over an hour and a half since Freda and her brother had crested the hill beyond the gates of Edoras; a little over an hour and a half since Eowyn had taken the horse and unconscious boy ahead at full gallop to the city while Dawn and George were left in charge of the exhausted yet innately curious little girl. Dawn could still recall the inexhaustible fascination on the girl's face when she'd met George. They had stood there, simply staring at one another for what seemed like an age before Freda had spoken.

"You have leaves on your head."

Dawn had watched as, with that one statement, the little girl had sealed herself a place in George's heart for all eternity. When they had reached the city limits, having left George reluctantly behind, they had been expected thanks to Eowyn's heraldry. The two of them were escorted up to the throne-room and, after making perfectly sure her brother was okay, Freda had demanded they take her to Gerald as 'since mamma wasn't there he was her responsibility'. Needless to say, the guards were mildly put out with having to escort them all the way back down to the stables.

And so here they were; Freda berating her horse for not eating his vegetables and Dawn wishing with all her might that she were up in the throne-room with the others. It was pretty irritating really, how she had been automatically volunteered to escort Freda, like she couldn't possibly have any interest what so ever in the political proceedings going on up at the house. Granted, most things probably would have flown right over her head but they couldn't have asked her? Dawn found herself dropping into her age-old habit of a good pout as she opened the gate to the last stall and stepped in with Shadowfax.

"Hey boy."

Shadowfax turned all-too wizened eyes on her and shifted in the stall to allow her access to his head. She reached up and stroked his neck, breathing in the familiar horse smell she'd come to associate with this world.

This world. It was still rather disconcerting to think that she was in a completely different dimension. Her friends and family probably thought she was dead...or worse. Every time she thought about it, her mind wondered back to the tower; back to the look in Buffy's eyes when she realised what her sister was about to do.

Dawn ducked her head into Shadowfax's neck and allowed her weight to shift into her unlikely comforter. Shadowfax for his part seemed to sense her mood and stayed still as she drew on his presence for support.

"Oh God, what am I going to do?" It was said in a whisper, barely catching her ear let alone anyone else's and so when it was met with an answering question it startled her.

"You're not from around here...are you?"

Dawn turned sharply to find Freda, looking far-too serious for her age standing at the gate to the stall. Something seemed to pass between them in the silence that stretched before Dawn shifted to face the little girl fully.

"Not exactly no."

Freda simply nodded, dropping her eyes to the straw-covered floor.

"Mamma..." the little girl hesitated before going on in uncertain tones. "Mamma always says that sometimes if you talk about something, it'll fight with the hurt..."

Dawn cocked her head slightly at the uneasy little girl as she sighed. With a resolute look, Freda turned her gaze upward once more.

"You can...if you want to...you can talk to me - and I won't tell, I swear...if you don't want me to."

Dawn was a little shocked to say the least. Standing before her was a child; a little girl of a world Dawn could never hope to belong in. She was dirty and travel-stained, facing the reality of possibly losing her family, and even her world, around her. And she was offering a sympathetic ear. Dawn smiled a little at the girl's heart and stepped forward. She would let the girl ask her questions, if only to provide a distraction to the girl's own troubles.

"What do you want to know?"

And it went from there.

She told Freda everything; about her world, her sister, vampires...even about CD players and movie theatres. She had smiled as the girl tried to grasp the concept of music coming out of black boxes and water being heated with electricity. She had even laughed at the look the girl had given her when she tried to explain cars. The skepticism the little girl had on call was amazing. Ironically, it took less convincing for her to understand the existence of demons and vampires than the existence of airplanes and Dawn had had to roll her eyes when the little girl's eyes lit up upon mention of Spike and Angel.

In all, the whole experience was a pleasant one, Dawn felt as though an enormous weight was being lifted from her heart as the minutes drew into hours and the two girls continued their chatter.

Dawn began to remember the good times, before Glory and the whole mess with the Key and for the first time in a while, it didn't hurt that the memories weren't real. Buffy had said that the love for her was real because it felt real. Well the memories felt real to Dawn. She could remember in intricate detail every time Xander had thought to cheer her up by sticking spaghetti up his nose; every time Willow had gotten halfway through her explanation of Dawn's homework only to stop when she realised she had gotten completely off topic. She could remember all the times she had locked herself in her room in a fit of anger and Angel had been the only one to ever gain access via her window to calm her down. All of these things she could recall in spades, and all these things she told to Freda.

Dawn had to stop herself from chuckling at the look of rapt attention on Freda's face as she came to the peak in the story.

"So there I was, about to be eaten by the goo demon when-"

The doors to the stables suddenly slammed open and both girls jumped, Freda offering a small scream of surprise.

"- who will protect them if not their king?"

There was no mistaking Gimli's grumbling voice and Dawn sighed as, sure enough, the familiar group of four came into view led by Gandalf. Aragorn spoke, obviously not having seen them yet.

"He's only doing what he thinks is right by his people; Helms Deep has saved them in the past -"

Beside her, Dawn felt Freda stiffen and the little girl spun to face her. "Helms Deep! We're going to Helms Deep!"

Dawn frowned at the name, confusion abounding but was cut short from asking for elaborations by the foursome's realisation of their presence.

"Lady Dawn, my goodness, have you been here all this time?"

Before Dawn could stop her Freda turned to Gandalf, her eyes shining with curiosity as she answered. "Yes sir, Dawn's been telling me of her home."

Dawn watched as Gandalf's eyebrows rose and his gaze slid from the little girl in front of him to her. "Really?"

Dawn blanched.

"What I can remember. All really boring, trust me," she stammered quickly hoping to stave off the inevitable questions of her origins. She couldn't really be sure of what was keeping her so tight-lipped about her home; she was usually on the verge of foolish in her trust but something just didn't feel right about being so open in this instance. Of course, fate had other ideas in the form of a stubborn little girl turning disbelieving eyes up at her.

"No it's not! All about cars and moving pictures -" the little girl's eyes seemed to light up another 100 watts and Dawn dreaded the next thing to fall off the girl's tongue. Sure enough...

"And the Vampmrrlth..."

Dawn smiled nervously up at the four men...or one man, the wizard, the Dwarf and the elf, as Freda continued to try and talk through the hand over her mouth.

"Whoo, don't know what they feed their kids around here to fuel their imaginations!" Even to her own ears it sounded fake and Dawn wasn't surprised to see the skepticism doing the hula over all four of their expressions.

With a sigh she turned back to Freda and gave the girl a pointed look as the little girl struggled to remove the hand over her mouth. Freda froze mid-pull and her eyes widened in realisation - ah now she remembered her earlier promise. Fully prepared to drag the girl into a strangle hold if her mouth opened again Dawn hesitantly let her go and watched as the shame stole across the girl's face at what she had done. Then, just as suddenly she spun to the company.

"Forget everything you just heard," She demanded, as if the words alone would make it so.

Legolas and Aragorn exchanged glances as Dawn rolled her eyes. Gandalf smiled a bit and shifted the staff in his hand.

"We will try our best my Lady. And now, I do believe your brother is in search of you even as we speak."

Freda seemed to take the hint and, with one more apologetic glance up to Dawn, made her way down the stalls and out of the stable.

"That girl would get on with Pippin like a house on fire," Dawn groused and Gandalf chuckled as he moved past her into Shadowfax's stall.

* * *

Helms Deep, as it turned out, was some kind of fortress; a safe house for the people of Rohan to retreat to in times of desperation. Looking around at all the strained faces of those preparing to leave, Dawn came to realise just why they considered now a time of desperation. The fear hung permeable in the air and none were spared the tension. With a sigh, Dawn folded the cloth in her arms and tossed it lightly on the 'to go' pile.

When she had asked to help, Dawn could admit, she had been hoping to get to do something other than fold material but that was what she had been given. 'Sort through these and choose ten of the most suitable for travel'. That was her task, and it was boring her to death.

With a small indignant huff she leaned over the chest once more and removed another scrap of cloth, uncovering something that flickered in the filtered sunlight. Dawn's eyes widened as she reached for the scabbard, shifting the last of the cloth away as the weapon came to light.

A sword.

Dawn grinned. Now swords she knew, she spent enough time sharpening them for her sister after all. With a flourish the blade was free and Dawn looked it over. It seemed in good nick and not too well used if the lack of notches were anything to go by. She swung it experimentally and felt the air around it hum as the blade sliced through the musty silence. God, she'd never thought having a sword in her hand again would be such a comfort. Maybe she was more like her sister than she had thought.

She felt the person behind her rather than heard him. Growing up on the Hellmouth could do that for you.

With a pivot, she spun her body and brought the sword arching around, halting it mere inches from clashing with the answering blade. Aragorn studied her for a moment seemingly at a loss when confronted with her control. Dawn smirked faintly and dropped her blade to her side, wincing slightly as the bandages around her middle rubbed across her cuts.

"How are your wounds?"

It was said without triumph or rancour and yet still the blood ran cold in Dawn's veins as she turned back to face the Ranger. Aragorn sighed as he re-sheathed his own blade and looked back up at her.

"You may think you cannot trust us my lady and I have little doubt you have your reasons...I only hope that one day I may earn what you covet so."

Dawn felt her jaw drop slightly as Aragorn inclined his head to her with all the dignity of a king and turned, striding from the hall in a way characteristic of his nickname.


	10. Walking with Wargs

"And in fact, they are so alike in voice and appearance that they are often mistaken for dwarf men," Gimli was saying in a very matter of fact tone and Dawn couldn't help the bemused giggle that escaped her as she exchanged a look with Eowyn on her other side. As one they both turned to Aragorn, mounted upon his own steed behind them for explanation - a reoccurring event since the beginning of Gimli's rather confused explanations. Dawn could have sworn she saw an amused twinkle enter the stead-fast ranger's eye as he brought his hand up to his chin and mouthed, "It's the beard."

Dawn almost snorted.

"...And this in turn has given rise to the belief that there are no Dwarf women," the Dwarf spared them a look to see he still had their rapt attention and Dawn schooled her features into an expression of immense interest. "And that Dwarves just spring out of holes in the ground!"

He gave a bark of laughter and Dawn shared a look with Eowyn as they both saw this as the ideal opportunity to unleash their mirth without repercussions and burst out laughing. Gimli, obviously delighted at their enjoyment of his tale, leaned back on his steed and let out a great snort of laughter that made Dawn herself jump - so it didn't really surprise her when the horse started in shock and made a bolt for it, Eowyn's grasp on it's rein slipping as it cantered through the thin crowd.

Gimli had explained to them only moments before how abysmal a Dwarf was on horses and Dawn found herself faced with a sure demonstration as the dwarf tumbled from the creature's back with a gruff cry and a grunt that sent her into fresh peals of laughter. Eowyn laughingly made her way over to the spluttering dwarf, helping rid him of some of the dry grass he had accumulated with his fall as she turned amused eyes back to her. Dawn shared her grin for a moment before she saw, mostly by accident, the shield-maiden's gaze tick to something over her shoulder.

As she watched, something all too familiar filtered into Eowyn's eyes – not so much familiar in the personal sense as familiar in the sense of having been witness to her sister's goo goo eyes in the early days of the Angel fiasco. She followed her friends gaze and felt her hairline being securely met by her eyebrows as she was faced with the picture perfect portrait of Aragorn son of whoever his father was.

Stealing a look back at her growing increasingly closer friend, she found that, no, her eyes were not malfunctioning - it looked like Eowyn of Rohan had a thing for everyone's friendly neighbourhood ranger. Dawn let out a sigh. This could either go really good or spectacularly bad all depending on one little snippet of information. Her gaze zeroed in around Aragorn's neck where the flash of the jewel securely tied there met her frowning countenance.

Despite popular opinion, Dawn was not stupid - even in a world as far removed from the norm as this one, she was quite sure that rules still applied to the roles of the genders; perhaps more so. In any case, she was pretty sure Aragorn, tough manly ranger that he was, had not been passing by a jewellery stall before deciding to pick up the perfect something to bring out his eyes. No, that there was a big honking' property sticker if ever she saw one. Now the question remained - who did he belong to?

It took her the next day and a half to work up the courage to find out.

"Mind if I walk with you?"

Aragorn started from an obvious inner contemplation as he walked alongside his horse and Dawn watched as he turned slightly uncomprehending eyes on her. She smiled.

"It's only Gimli's moved onto mating rituals and there really are some things about Dwarves that girls my age shouldn't know...for health reasons and all that."

Aragorn cracked one of his rare smiles.

"How could I turn away such a plea," he consented and Dawn fell into step beside him with a smile of her own. They walked in companionable silence for a couple of minutes as Dawn struggled with how to breach the subject of Aragorn's love life - it was proving immensely difficult. Dawn may have been nosey but she knew a touchy subject when she saw it. She looked up once more to the object of her confusion and found herself faced with an expression so chock-full of brood the ranger could have given Angel a run at the championship. Following the direction it was aimed she came squarely upon the bright blonde back of Eowyn's head.

She sighed. This was getting only mildly familiar. Tall, broody and all round mysterious guy thinks contemplatively about doe-eyed, blonde, possible love interest. She was beginning to think she should warn the two of them about the possibility of her sister and her one true love suing for infringement. But on the up side, she had just gained her leverage.

"Eowyn's nice," she spoke up in an all-round disinterested voice as she glanced anywhere but at the man beside her, while still managing to witness his every reaction. Aragorn, she saw - but wasn't _seen_ seeing - sighed.

"Yes...yes she is."

Dawn could have leapt for joy at the heaviness in his tone. It gave her just the opening she was looking for.

"But?"

She watched with baited breath as Aragorn contemplated that one little word that could make or break him. Dawn was a lot of things...but rarely was she patient. She was actually quite proud of herself for keeping her mouth shut as Aragorn thought - she lasted a whole three seconds.

"Okay, how about I take a guess and you can tell me if I'm right or not?"

Without waiting for an answer, Dawn unleashed her inner teen and chugged full steam into the explanation she'd spent the past day thinking up in regard to the evidence she'd accumulated.

"You like Eowyn; you respect her for her passion and her loyalty...and yeah, I 'spose the big brown doe eyes and legs from here to there don't hurt either..." She watched as Aragorn's eyebrows raised but continued on before he could interrupt. "But there's a problem - you're already in love with someone else."

This time there was no stopping the beginning of Aragorn's inquiry. "How..."

Dawn was expecting it. "How did I know?" At Aragorn's nod she gestured down at the silver jewel. "That's not something you just pick up from price mart."

Dawn could tell he had no idea what she'd just said but that he got the gist - which was all that was needed. She sighed. "So, now you find yourself facing a problem. You like Eowyn, but you're guilty because of the other girl. Am I right?"

Aragorn, after a moment, inclined his head. "In a sense."

Dawn rolled her eyes inwardly. Way to be cryptic guy - he really was running for Angel's title. "Well, how about you fill in the blanks for me?"

Aragorn stared at her contemplatively for a moment before all of a sudden, he launched into it. When it rained it poured. Dawn listened with rapt attention as he laid it all bare - his love for Arwen and his confusion over Eowyn - his birthright as the Heir of some huge screw-up of a king and his destiny to un-screw said screw-up. Dawn was beginning to think that he and her sister would have a lot to talk about if they ever met. By the end of his spiel however, she still had one uber-confusion.

"Okay...here's what I don't get though - you and Arwen love each other right?" She didn't really need his nod of affirmance before she went on. "So what's the big deal? Get married, have lots of little rangers and live happily ever after. The way I see it, her dad can't hold that much sway over her if you two have been together so long...and she wanted to stay - that's gotta give you some indication."

Much to her confusion, Aragorn shook his head sadly. "She is elf-kind..."

Dawn interrupted. "Yeah I got that the first time around. What's the big deal? It's not like its illegal or anything right?"

Aragorn paused for a moment. "No," he began slowly and Dawn could just feel the 'but' in the air. "It is simply not done - the union of a child of man and an elf causes much pain, not only for those around them, but for themselves."

Dawn again found herself slightly adrift and it must have showed on her face for the ranger continued quickly. "Elves live outside of time Lady Dawn. They are immortal."

Dawn could almost feel the heat coming off the light bulb in her brain. Now the whole damn thing made sense.

"So...okay," she began with more than a hint of irony in her voice. "You have a destiny as a great worrier of your people and you fell in love with an immortal who you broke up with and left for her own good." Dawn almost felt the need to crack herself over the head as Aragorn nodded. "You two could have sex right? You didn't lose your soul or anything?"

Aragorn gave her a look so full of confusion she almost felt sorry for him.

"Never mind," she supplied and sighed as Aragorn turned back to his inner confrontation. She watched him for a moment, every line of concern on his face evidence of his inner struggle and finally came to a decision. Time to try out that trust thing she'd been hearing so much about.

"We have immortals where I'm from too," she began, and all of a sudden, Aragorn's attention was focussed painfully on her. She only hoped he didn't ask where her miraculous regain of memory came from. "My sister fell in love with one - a guy named Angel." She looked up at Aragorn and smiled a bit. "You remind me a bit of him."

She sighed, looking down once more to her trudging feet and the hem of her long dress. "There were a lot of complications with their being together though, the immortality thing definitely being one of the major ones. See, his kind...they were...well they weren't very nice and he used to be one of the worst before he changed. He couldn't go out in the sun or have kids or anything like a normal person and he hated himself for it...and he hated himself for taking away any chance for my sister having a normal life too. So..." And here it was - the pivotal point. "So, he left - for her own good. They've been apart for a little over two years now."

Aragorn nodded once and went back to his inner torture. Dawn felt her eyes narrow. "You didn't let me finish." Once she was sure his startled gaze was back on her, she went on. "He broke my sister's heart the day he walked away...she cried for weeks. Until, one day, she got out of bed, got dressed, brushed her hair and declared that she was over him. Just like that," She snapped her fingers. "Life went on as per usual and she met someone else, a nice safe, normal boy who loved her like nothing else. But no matter how much he loved her...she couldn't love him back and that hurt him, it hurt him a whole hell of a lot. All because she was still in love with Angel."

The frown on Aragorn's face deepened as what she'd said hit home. Dawn nodded. "Eowyn likes you, she _really_ likes you and I can tell you feel some pull to her as well. But for her sake - if you still love Arwen, which I think it's pretty obvious you do, don't encourage her. You'll only end up hurting everyone in the end."

Watching Aragorn in the hours following, Dawn could tell he still had a whole lot of thinking to do. Who wouldn't? She found it rather ironic that the whole world was falling down around their ears and the biggest thing one of its possible saviours had on his mind was his choice of love. But then, the heart often took precedent. She sighed heavily as she watched the mountainous terrain pass under her feet. Step after step after step...

"Heard what ye said te tall dark and broody hon."

Dawn started and looked up to her left where George had joined her, keeping in step with her trot effortlessly, despite being weighed down by at least five of the city's children clinging and climbing around his branches. Once the people of Rohan had become accustomed to the tree herder in their midst it had taken all of half a second for the children to start indulging in their curiosity of the Ent. Following Freda's lead they had all, at one point or another, taken a seat on his shoulder before some of the more adventurous ones had started to seek out alternative perches. Currently, a five year old was trying to nest under his arm as George held it up indulgently.

"Dinnae know you was so wise little one."

Dawn smiled as the Ent pulled a squirming four-year old out from behind his ear and placed it on his shoulder once more. "I wouldn't say wise - just well versed in the matters of forbidden relationships."

The Ent suddenly got a peculiar gleam in his eye which Dawn didn't think was just the kick he'd received in it from the girl trying to climb into his hair. "Speakin' of forbidden relationships, I'd say ye have a little bit of competition," George said with a gesture to the front of the column.

Dawn frowned in confusion as she turned to where he indicated before her eyes widened in apprehension.

* * *

Legolas had never felt so undignified. Laughing was one thing - a light sound when emitted by the likes of him, light and graceful. The sound currently escaping his protesting lips was heavy as an Olyphant, anything but graceful and all to blame on one little blonde daughter of man. Legolas didn't know whether to strangle her or ask her to go on. Said daughter was currently waving her hands around spiritedly from her perch in Arod's saddle as she described, complete with sound effects, the reaction of her brother to her putting a toad in his bed-roll over harvest celebrations.

Legolas snorted again as Freda's squeal hit a particularly high note and she dissolved into giggles of her own to signify the climax of her story. Legolas found himself having to lean on his horse companion for support as the aftermath of his giggle fit shook his body. There should be a law against such exertion.

His muscles back under his own control, he turned without missing stride, casting a glance around the train of people that followed. He'd been doing this regularly since they'd started off. To keep an eye on everyone he'd been telling himself, it wouldn't do for someone to fall behind and he did have the best sight of the party. But no matter how many times he told himself this one thing always remained. Once he'd seen that the Lady Dawn was present and accounted for he always turned back to his forward path feeling strangely satisfied. It was as if just seeing her was sating something within him. But of course that was ridiculous, there was nothing special about the girl. Just another daughter of man. Just like Eowyn or the child now sitting astride his own steed…grinning down at him.

"You smile as if you know something I do not my Lady," he said with a smile and Freda grinned down from her lofty perch.

"That's cause I do my...elf," she replied in kind and Legolas raised his eyebrow at the sureness in her tone.

"Well, pray then my Lady, do enlighten me."

Freda's grin grew positively wicked as she leaned down and for a moment Legolas questioned his sanity at leaning forward so she could whisper in his ear. "You be havin' the eyes for Miss Dawn!"

Legolas jolted back so fast he was sure he had whiplash. "I do not!"

A stubbornness that had mules the world over in awe took a hold of Freda's features. "Do too! You look at her like my brother looks at Helena across the street, and everyone knows they is going to be wed and stuff!"

For the first time in his life, Legolas spluttered. He hadn't even been aware he was capable of the action until then. It was quite a good splutter too. It took a good few seconds for him to get a hold of himself enough to take a deep breath and place a steadying hand on Arod's neck. "Listen..."

But Freda interrupted then with something that made his tongue glue itself to the top of his mouth. "Don't worry, she likes you too - George says she goes red as a baby's bum after a spanking whenever she talks about you and I heard Lady Eowyn telling Lord Aragorn..."

The little girl was suddenly cut off mid-babble as she disappeared from the saddle of the horse. For a moment Legolas thought she'd fallen off until he spied a familiar brunette head weaving through the crowd behind him carrying a squirming bundle under its arm. Just as suddenly as her disappearance, Freda was plonked unceremoniously on the track, miraculously on her feet as her kidnapper yelped in what sounded like pain. A hushed and furious argument then ensued between the two before a hand was held out and the two girls, one younger and one older, shook on an undisclosed agreement. They then parted, Freda heading over to the tree herder and Dawn walking back...to him.

For some reason that he couldn't quite place all moisture in his mouth suddenly fled as she stepped up beside him and smiled somewhat timidly. If he hadn't been so stunned by the expression he probably would have noticed Freda giving George a high-five in the background.

"Sorry about that...did she break your ears or anything?" Dawn asked with a tentative smile and Legolas found his lips quirking in response.

"No, I do believe they are in tact," he replied as the two of them turned and continued on the walk that her little foray into kidnapping had halted.

"Points and all?"

This time he didn't suppress the smile. "Points and all," he reassured stealing an amused glance at his new companion. The lady, for her part, was examining a slightly pinkish bruise on her arm.

Legolas frowned. "What happened to your arm my lady?"

Lady Dawn looked up startled for a moment before she hurriedly dropped her arm. "Oh nothing, it's nothing..."

Legolas shook his head and, before he realised what he was doing, had reached over and snagged the injured arm in a gentle grip. Turning it over, he ran his fingertip lightly over the discolouration, managing to remain oblivious of the flip in his stomach as the action coaxed up goose-bumps on her soft skin.

"She ah..." The lady sounded for a moment as though she had tried to eat something very fluffy. "She pinched me..."

Legolas inclined his head as, with no small (though well ignored) amount of regret, he let her arm go, shooting a glance back to the little girl who was the cause of all the trouble. What he saw upon doing so was a sight worthy of a council fire-side tale - a mortal child and a legendary tree-herder of old, standing side by side and making what was commonly referred to as 'kissy' faces at him.

Legolas suddenly forgot what he was doing mid stride and had to latch a steadying hand onto Arod to keep himself from falling flat on his face. For his part, Arod turned to his new master and snorted a neigh. Legolas was almost certain he was laughing at him. Vexing beast. As if to compound his victory, Arod then flicked his nose toward the lady Dawn who got the hint and began scratching him behind the ears as the elf looked on, for the first time in his life wishing he were a horse.

"Don't worry," she spoke, breaking the silence. "I'll get her back - I just need to find a suitable creepy crawly to sneak into her hair."

Legolas was beginning to wonder if he should warn the lady to check her sleeping roll before she went to bed at night when two horsemen rode past. One, Legolas recognised as Hàma, the king's door-warden and the other he had seen by the King's side on numerous occasions. Gamling was his name - as best as he could recall.

"What are they doing?"

The question came as little surprise and Legolas scanned the rock face at their side as he answered. "Scouting ahead...there are more dangers than just potholes in these parts of late..." He trailed off as a flicker of a shadow appeared and, just as quickly, disappeared on the rock landing a little way ahead and above them.

"Did you see that?" The lady's voice was uncertain and more than a little apprehensive.

Legolas himself was surprised she'd seen anything at all, he - with elfish sight - had only just caught the movement. "Yes...yes I did."

Moving quickly he scaled the rise, the lady right beside him and the two of them scanned the layout before them. The two scouts had halted in the shade of the rock-face as their horses reared back slightly from something that only an animal could sense. Legolas watched as Gamling's horse very nearly unseated him and it was in that moment that many things happened at once.

Beside him, the lady Dawn cried out and, before he could move, she had unsheathed the long-knife from his back and sent it flying with amazing accuracy at the Warg dropping down upon the un-suspecting scouts from the rock-face. The blade sliced into the creature just behind its foreleg, miraculously sliding through a gap in the ribcage and piercing its heart. The beast was dead before it hit the ground, knocking the horse out from under Hàma and sending the door-warden to the ground.

This time Gamling's horse succeeded in throwing its master and the man fell with a cry, directly in the path of the now Wargless orc. The Orc raised its crude weapon with a snarl and Legolas called on every ounce of speed within him to knock the arrow and let it fly. It hit its target faithfully and Gamling was left staring at an Orc-blade imbedded in the soil not one hand-span from his head.

Legolas spun quickly to the girl at his side, forcing down his astonishment at her skill with the blade for another time - perhaps one where an entire city of people weren't about to become Warg-fodder. "Warn them," he directed, not waiting for her nod to start down the incline towards Hàma and Gamling.

* * *

Dawn very nearly crashed into Aragorn as they both crested the incline from different directions at the same time.

"What's happening?"

Dawn swallowed and spoke over the pounding of blood in her ears. "Big dog-wolf-things with Orcs, we gotta warn everyone."

Aragorn didn't even nod as he turned and took off the way he'd come. Dawn followed, arriving in time to catch the King's inquiry, and Aragorn's answer. "Wargs! We're under attack!"

The effect of this proclamation on the crowd was instantaneous. Children ran for their mothers as women screamed, horses fretted and the men exchanged nervous glances.

The king's voice over-rode it all. "All riders to the head of the column!"

Dawn followed Aragorn as he reached his horse being held by Eowyn and mounted. The king spoke an order down to his niece that was too soft for Dawn to hear so far away, but she heard the shield-maiden's answer.

"I can fight!"

"No!"

More hushed words, the last of which Dawn caught - "for me" - before the king wheeled his horse around and thundered past Dawn to where she had left Legolas. Dawn turned and watched him go, catching the look in Aragorn's eyes also as he left, a look that made the feminist in her sit up and pay attention. So that was how it was going to be was it? True, if she fought, she would more than likely end up Warg-kibble, but she didn't even get a choice? She suddenly found herself understanding what it was like to be Eowyn in this world. Eowyn's voice brought her out of her reverie as the shield-maiden yelled her orders.

"Head for the lower ground! Stay together!"

She looked up and their eyes met for a moment in companionable frustration before Dawn got to it, helping the townsfolk down the slope.

The whole town had made it safely to the lower ground when it happened. A shadow loped across the horizon in front of the group before disappearing once more. Dawn frowned. There was something not right with it. It had been moving far too slowly to be joining the fighting up and over the incline. A feint tug of apprehension pulled at Dawn's insides as she cast a calculating look around the land the townspeople had just been herded into. Roughly the shape of a bowl, the slopes of land on all four sides provided the perfect shape for even the most sloppy of ambushes. So not good.

As if waiting for her realisation, the rises of land were suddenly crested on all sides by six Wargs and their riders. Dawn swallowed as she approached Eowyn who was still preoccupied with moving her kin to apparent safety.

"Were you serious when you said you could fight?" Dawn asked, never taking her eyes from the surveying Warg-riders.

Eowyn turned to her with puzzlement on her face. "Yes, why?"

Dawn wordlessly inclined her head to their watchers and Eowyn followed the gesture and gasped. "They'll be slaughtered!"

Dawn felt something quite peculiar in that moment - like a thread of steel had somehow made its way into her system and managed to wrap itself around her spine. With a deep breath, she cocked her head higher and clenched her hands. "Not if we can help it."

As if the statement had freed some force keeping her rooted to the spot, Dawn suddenly began moving, weaving through the crowd to a cart at the centre of the fray; a cart that she herself had helped pack. By this point, many of the townsfolk had spotted their predicament also and cries were being raised left and right.

Dawn shouted over it all. "If anyone here can fight, now would be a good time to find a weapon of choice!"

She reached the cart and threw back the cover, unsettling the contents as she zeroed in on her target. Finally her hand hit a hard leather casing and with a sharp pull she had the sheathed sword free from the cloth. Another tug had the metal gleaming in the late afternoon sun and she spun to the crowd.

"Hey, George!" The Ent turned at her cry. "Tell me Ents aren't peaceful creatures by law."

George stared at her for a moment before his eyes seemed to close over and he reached up, dislodging at least four squirming youngsters from his foliage and depositing them in a cart. "Not by law hon, definitely not by law."

The Ent cracked his wooden knuckles.

Eowyn suddenly stepped up beside her, sword also in hand as she looked up at the approaching Wargs. With a deep breath, she turned back to the townspeople and practically roared. "Children and those not fit to pick up something sharp in the middle, the rest of you, grab a weapon and make a circle, backs facing the centre. Stay together!"

Dawn watched as more than a few of the folk retreated to the centre of the fold, most of them men. For their part, the women and mothers kissed their children, sending them into the middle as they shared fierce looks and picked up whatever they could to help them fend off the danger to their families. Dawn couldn't help the spark of feminine pride at the sight.

She turned back to the oncoming attackers and steeled herself, trying in vein to remember all those times she'd been kidnapped and was forced to watch Buffy fight to rescue her. It didn't look all that hard really. She could do this…she could. She veritably throttled the sword in her hand as she stared unseeingly at the approaching Wargs.

Eowyn, obviously having noticed the strangle hold on her weapon leaned into her ear. "Relax your wrist and let the momentum of the swing do the work."

Dawn turned fearful eyes on her new-found sword instructor. Eowyn grinned at her in a feral sort of way, an expression Dawn could remember seeing on Faith once-upon-a-time. "It's easy as pie," the shield-maiden assured. Then the world exploded around them.


	11. Years to Come

The group that trickled into Helms Deep was one of relief and blood. People couldn't help taking notice of the bed-ragged appearance of the townsfolk, the dried blood crusting on their clothes, or indeed, the death grip most still had on crimson weapons. At the forefront strode two of the bloodiest, though most among the watchers who had seen such things could tell that most of the blood on them was not their own. The sight was one that would be talked about at gatherings for years after. A path was made for the blood-splattered sister-daughter of the king and her companion as they made their way up to the fort, their heads held high and their strides long.

Clinging to the hand of the shield-maiden's dark-haired companion was a little girl of no more than six summers, her face also dotted with droplets of blood and a small cut adorning one cheek. On the girl's other side strode an older boy who could only be her brother. He was relatively unscathed upon first glance - but those who looked closer would notice the protective way he held his left wrist.

A cry was suddenly taken up and the little girl's eyes were seen to light up as she spotted a familiar face in the crowd.

"Mamma!"

A short propulsion later and the girl and boy were secure in the arms of a woman who could only be their mother. The shield-maiden's companion was seen to smile thankfully at the sight before suddenly the guards were in an uproar - and for good reason. Stepping through the gate at a stoop was a creature straight out of legends. Those learned observers would identify it as an Ent, a tree herder of old. Others would simply see a monster. Swords were unsheathed and cries of battle taken up, but before any stoke could fall, the shield-maiden's companion was seen leaping into the fray in the defence of the creature. Shouting words of threat to anyone who harmed her beastly companion, she stared down any and all that would raise arms. People watched in astonishment as the sister-daughter of the king herself stood at the creature's defence - assuring his gentleness and friendship.

A stirring was seen to go through the crowd as her words were heard and considered...and then the miraculous happened. Much to her mother's protests, the little girl, charge of the shield-maiden's companion, stepped up to the legendary being and, with a great leaved hand up, perched herself on the Ent's shoulder. Men, women, children and elders listened in astonishment as the girl introduced the people to her friend George, the Ent. The people's curiosity was the downfall to their fear as, inch by inch, they stepped forward and met the gentle giant. Then the tale of their journey was unleashed, and the people's trust and awe of the creature doubled, for without him, it was said - the people of Edoras would not have survived the trek to Helms Deep.

* * *

Dawn practically threw herself into a seating position on the first free section of pavement she could find, finally prying her fingers from their iron grip on the handle of her sword. Taking a deep steadying breath and running shaking fingers through her hair she looked down on the weapon in her lap and remembered.

The Wargs had attacked as one; a perfectly formed circle wanting only the destruction of those they had cornered. They'd never really stood a chance. Dawn remembered hearing somewhere that when a child is threatened, a mother can do extraordinary things - lift cars off them, things like that. Well, there had been a whole lot of pissed mothers there that afternoon. She had seen a woman throw an eating knife at a Warg 16 feet away and pierce its eye. Another swung a bludgeon so hard she removed the head of an Orc crawling toward her four year old son. Yes, Dawn could safely say now that mothers could do extraordinary things. And so could Ents apparently. Dawn would really hate to see an army of tree herders and what they could do when angered if George was any indication.

It had been Freda that had set him off. She had screamed across the fray, loud and long as she was carried away by a seemingly hungry orc. The look in George's eyes when he had spotted her predicament would be sure to haunt Dawn's nightmares for an age to come. She didn't think she'd ever seen such a murderous rage. Three Wargs, two with riders, got in the way of him getting to Freda - none survived long enough to think twice about it. Dawn, for her part, had found herself back to back with Eothain early in the battle. It was with her that he had fallen, his cry of pain alerting her to his predicament. That Orc's head had sailed quite far.

The whole thing had been over in a matter of minutes - though to Dawn they'd felt like seconds. The blood pounding in her ears, she had turned to and fro, halfway not believing it could be over so quickly. But it had been - and with no human casualties. It was almost poetic.

So now she found herself sitting, unobserved against a wall of a place that - it was said - would be the people's salvation. It just looked like a huge, life-sized battle castle to her - the kind that Xander had made her play when he was sixteen and still a doofus…or more of one. She supposed she was still in shock - though it was hard to tell, usually she was the one being all horrified and helpless rather than the one fighting off said horrors. It was strange to think she'd just killed something. She'd never done that before. That was Buffy's department. Plants, monsters; Buffy certainly was the slayer...but now Dawn found herself and not her sister partial to the fighter's withdrawal. She felt like she should still be moving, still be fighting...and it had been four hours since the battle.

A hail suddenly went up from the watch tower and a hum shuttled through the crowd that broke Dawn's link to the past. She felt her fingertips tingle as she stood slowly, waiting for the cry she knew was coming.

"Make way for the king!"

She wasn't the only one rushing for the entrance platform. She arrived on the scene to find an air of excitement...and something else...something that made her throat close up and sweat to spring up on her palms. Eowyn was already there. "Lord Aragorn...where is he?"

Dawn's blood froze in her veins as Gimli looked first to the shield-maiden and then to her, the sorrow clear in his eyes and his stance. Dawn didn't need the words but they settled on her heart with a heady finality none the less.

"He fell."

Dawn watched as Eowyn's eyes filled with tears and the stalwart woman she had just hours before stood with side by side in battle, sat down heavily on a low wall. Gimli sat next to her, his head bowed in grief for a moment before he looked up at her again. Dawn knew he expected her to join them - to wade through their sorrow together...but she couldn't. She'd just seen a green cloak and a flash of blonde hair disappearing around the battlement. She left wordlessly, her unseeing walk turning to a blind run as she sought to catch up to her quarry.

"Legolas!"

He turned at his name and the pain in his eyes almost knocked the wind out of her. It was a pain she knew well. The pain of death. You'd think living in a place like Sunnydale she would have been desensitised to it by now. She slowed to a walk as she joined him, finally coming to a stop directly in front of him. They stayed like that for what seemed like forever, no words spoken or needed. Finally she reached up a hand and, gentle as a kiss, traced the path his tears would take if he ever allowed them to be shed. There was no warning but for the waver in his eyes before he leaned down and buried his face in her neck. She braced her arms securely around his neck as his traversed her waist. And there they stayed, all eyes dry and yet not needing to be wet.

Dawn was really beginning to hate death.


	12. Willing and Able

Alas, more folding. There was just something so completely…..well, boring about the action. Hold at corners, hands together, flip and repeat until desired size of cloth is achieved. Everything uniform; everything repeated – it was the kind of task that made Dawn pine for a good demon attack. It didn't really help all that much that her folding companion hadn't said two words to her since they had begun the process. 

Dawn sighed.

"Eowyn."

The shield maiden didn't so much as pause.

"Eowyn stop!" Reaching over she placed a restraining hand on the arm that was reaching for another bundle of cloth. For her part Eowyn simply froze, turning unseeing eyes on Dawn in askance. Dawn took a deep breath. Grieving was a funny thing. It hit everyone differently. Unfortunately it seemed to have hit Eowyn hard enough to have knocked some vital part for function clean out of her head. Dawn was getting only mildly frustrated with her brand-new zombie friend.

"Hey, you know I'm your friend right?"

A nod that could have come from a stranger had Dawn growling.

"Then stop being a giant boob and talk to me!"

A look of startled shock filtered into the woman's eyes like a candle being lit in a dark basement and Dawn took minor pride in the achievement of getting Eowyn to look at her like she was something other than another scrap of cloth to be folded. For a moment Eowyn simply stared before she heaved a great sigh and, turning, plonked herself down bodily on the pile of cloth they had just folded. Dawn joined her a moment later and waited. She didn't have to wait long.

"I think I may have loved him."

Dawn paused in shock for a moment before the overwhelming urge to bash her head against a wall took hold.

"You weren't in love with him Eowyn," she stated plainly, "You didn't even know him."

Eowyn's eyes filled with tears then.

"I knew enough," she said quietly. "I knew his bravery and I knew his valour- "

"And I knew the colour socks he wore," Dawn broke in suddenly, her voice harsher than she meant it. But she couldn't help it - she was getting annoyed. Not only with Eowyn, but with everything. This world; these people. Why was she here? Why was she here only to have to watch the people she stated to care about die just like everyone else? It wasn't fair.

Eowyn seemed to agree.

"You mock me," she said, her eyes narrowing in pain and burgeoning anger. Dawn felt like tearing up herself.

"No. No I don't mean to. It's just…" she took a breath. How could she explain this? How could she tell this woman who had grown up with values so different to her own that just the thought of professing love for someone she hardly knew made her cringe. That you needed friendship and understanding and a whole lot of other things before the concept could even be broached? Love, to Dawn, was…well it wasn't to be taken lightly. Dawn had seen the pain it could cause.

"You had a crush on Aragorn," she began tentatively, "An attraction."

Eowyn opened her mouth to argue but Dawn interrupted.

"I'm not saying it's not significant, cause it is," she said quickly. Hell, she should know. "But you weren't in love with him. At least I don't think you were."

Eowyn didn't say anything for the longest time and Dawn shrank where she sat. Her and her big mouth. The one good friend she'd made in this place and she'd gone and called her feelings screwy. Way to go Dawn. Brilliant friendship skills there.

Just as she was about to head into a particularly lengthy self-berating session Eowyn's voice broke the silence.

"So this I'm feeling, right now, this is one of those crushes you spoke of?"

Dawn looked up in puzzlement at the question. But Eowyn wasn't looking at her. Following Eowyn's gaze she suddenly understood the inflection in Eowyn's voice. The squeal that rent the air was one that only dogs could hear.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Aragorn was sore...and tired and soul-weary and a whole lot of other things that signified exhaustion. But most of all he was desperate - because an army big enough to kill the people of Rohan ten times over was heading straight for them and he was the only one who knew. He practically stumbled up the final step that led to the entrance to the fort, very nearly stumbling into the individual who had halted there. A very familiar individual. He looked up and met the gaze of his child-hood friend, watching as the elf's eyes went from stunned to relieved and then to smug.

"You're late."

It was spoken in Elvish, practically his first language anyway and for a moment Aragorn felt taken aback. Then his friend demonstrated that elvish conceitedness their kind were renowned for in such a way it had him chuckling.

"You look terrible."

Aragorn felt his shoulder blades shift as a weight he didn't know he'd been carrying lifted and he reached a steadying hand to his companion's shoulder, taking the opportunity to lean on the support Legolas was silently offering. Oh but he was exhausted. He watched somewhat blearily as Legolas reached a hand out in offering and passed him something that fell into his palm with a sense of light-heartedness.

Unravelling his fingers, he looked down on Arwen's jewel. It was then, right then that something in him settled. A turmoil that had been stirring his heart for an age was laid to rest and he breathed out a one hundred year old breath. He loved Arwen. There was nothing else to know. Whether she retreated to the Undying lands and he became king or not - his heart belonged to her and he was unwilling to tear someone else's love simply because he himself had none to give.

He raised his eyes once more to those of his friend of old and saw the knowing twinkle in the elf's eyes, but only for a moment. The next thing he knew he had an arm full of squealing teenage girl as Dawn positively squeezed what life was left in him out.

"I knew it I knew it I knew it!"

The squirming girl paused for a moment, pulling back to look up at him.

"Well, you know, I didn't know it know it but..."

Dogs the world over once again covered their ears and wined as the teen broke into fresh peals of squealing and hugged him again. Aragorn couldn't help but laugh as he allowed himself to be hugged, just for a moment - letting his dire thoughts slip away.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Dawn exchanged a look with Eowyn as they followed the King in his tour around the fort. Ever since the group of men had emerged from the meeting hall not ten minutes ago, the King seemed to have upped his dose of nervous and neurotic to somewhat stifling levels. Little snippets of caught comments between soldiers seemed to give a bit of indication as to why. Apparently an army was headed for them - a pretty big one by all accounts. Dawn couldn't help thinking that anything that got the King of Rohan prancing around like a paranoid monkey had to be pretty dire.

"I want every man and strong lad able to bear arms to be ready for battle before nightfall."

The yes-men surrounding their King nodded their assent and the group started shifting down towards the cause-way. Dawn frowned.

"And the women?"

The effect of her question was instantaneous. The King halted, bringing everyone else to a stand-still also as he turned back to her. He seemed to study her for a moment in contemplative silence before he answered.

"The women and children will retreat to the caves. It is the safest place for them during battle." He turned to go with an air of finality; an air that Dawn couldn't help but disturb.

"That's not what I meant."

His turn back to face her the second time was decidedly slower than the last and Dawn felt rather than saw the ripple of discomfort go through those around her. Beside her Eowyn stiffened slightly. It seemed to take an age for the King to respond which gave Dawn some indication to the thinness of the ice she was skating on. Not that it mattered much. Because Dawn, while being a responsible young adult, was also, first and foremost, a teenager - and teens loved nothing more than stirring up shit. Dawn steeled herself and poured every ounce of obliviousness as to her precarious situation into her next statement.

"What about the women who can fight? Who want to fight?"

The hardening of the king's eyes was almost visible from space as he turned his gaze on Eowyn.

"I tolerate your un-becoming beliefs sister-daughter, only because they have kept you alive in times of turmoil but when you influence young girls in such a way..."

Dawn didn't know what exactly went into the concoction of emotions she was feeling in that moment but, like an expert chef with soup, she could tell with one taste that disgust was a major ingredient.

"Hey hey hey!"

And yes, there was the anger. All eyes were on her as she stepped up to her friend's defence.

"She hasn't been influencing me any! I knew how to fight well before I fell arse first into this hick dimension!"

She never noticed Legolas pause behind her and exchange a look with Aragorn as one of the King's attendants scoffed at her statement.

"You?"

If the men around her truly knew her, the look she turned on the orange-haired door-warden would have had them scurrying off to corners like good little valuers of their lives. As it was, they did not and so stood, while not firm, certainly with a lesser amount of shaking that would have been wise as Dawn looked Hama from toes to carrot head, recognising him readily.

"Yes me. And you should know better than anyone Mr. Warg-snack, who the hell do you think saved your butt just yesterday?"

The look on the man's face would have almost been comical as he turned in askance to Legolas. It was obvious he had assumed the elf was to be given credit for his drawing of breath. All eyes were on Legolas then as the elf shook his head, trying hard not to smirk at the self-satisfied look on Dawn's face.

"The lady took one of my knives and had dispatched the beast before I even noticed its presence."

Hama suddenly looked as though he'd swallowed a lemon farm and Dawn rolled her eyes as she turned back to the King who seemed to be studying her with more than a little scepticism.

"My point is, there are women of this country who would like nothing more than to help protect their children and loved ones - and they're capable!"

More than most of the men joined the King in his scepticism at this comment and Dawn felt like growling before suddenly she found Eowyn at her side.

"My lords, without the bravery and skill of the women of Edoras, your wives and children would not be walking this world now - surely you have heard the stories of our defence against the Wargs?"

"Six Wargs is hardly an army of Orcs my Lady," Gamling spoke up and Dawn could see Eowyn's frustration clear as day. Reaching a steadying hand on the shield-maiden's tense arm she turned back to their audience.

"All we're asking is that you give them a chance. They're women not invalids!"

"And tell me my Lady," the King spoke in a voice that was much too calm for its own good, "Tell me, would you fight for the people of Rohan?"

Dawn froze. Of all the questions she had expected out of the king's mouth this was by far the least anticipated and for a moment she found herself uncertain. Would she fight for the people of this place? Could she? She was just Dawn, helpless little sister of the slayer - a far cry from the slayer herself. And Gamling was half right in his own way - what was six measly Wargs to an army of ten thousand? Finally she cleared her throat but the damage of her silence had already been done.

"If it came to it."

She could have shot herself for the uncertainty in her tone and almost flinched at the spark of success in the King's eye.

"If, it came to it."

The words spoken, while not directly mocking, were enough to send Dawn's gaze to her toes as the King's declaration rang out.

"The women and children will retreat to the caves."

Even without looking up she could tell his regal gaze was squarely on her as he spoke the words and this time neither she, nor Eowyn, disputed the statement. Dawn felt like screaming, crying and throwing up all at once as the group turned and continued its way down to the cause-way. Dawn, feeling no desire to be amongst the haughty looks of the men around her spun in the opposite direction and, pushing between Aragorn and Legolas, stormed back the way they had come. She couldn't help thinking disgustedly that, had she a tail, it would have been firmly between her legs.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Eowyn didn't speak to her for the rest of the day and Legolas and the others seemed hung up in the slowly mounting tension taking hold of everyone as nightfall approached. As a result, Dawn found herself rather blissfully alone which was as needed as it was unhealthy because with no one there to distract her, the images of the standoff with the king were welcome to trample through her brain and kill any shred of dignity she had left.

It was in those hours, as she sat on the Deeping wall, her feet dangling over a 100 foot drop, that she truly began to miss home. And she hated herself for it. She just couldn't seem to stop thinking that back home she wouldn't have been expected to be brave and willing to fight. She simply could have been Dawn, helpless kid sister to the slayer with an annoying knack for getting kidnapped by the evil guys. She could have been whimpering and pitiful and no one would have looked at her twice for it - it was, after all, the role she was supposed to be playing.

With a huffed grunt, she pegged a loose rock into the gathering darkness of the evening. It should have been Buffy here. She wouldn't have thought twice about fighting in a war against the forces of evil - it was her job after all. She should have been the one to jump into the vortex and be whooshed here, wherever here was. Dawn scoffed self-depreciatingly. Her wonder sister would have probably even succeeded in saving Boromir the second she landed in this frigging world.

She felt rather than heard the approach behind her but didn't turn, even as Aragorn spoke.

"They are about to barricade the entrance to the caves my lady."

Dawn felt like crying, but grunted instead as she pegged her rock into the now-darkness. Dusting her hands off, she turned and lumped down off the wall to the ranger's side.

"Well, I'd better go and crouch in a corner like a good little female then hadn't I?"

The bitterness in her voice was as cutting as it was thick and somewhere in her head she told herself that the afternoon's spectacle was hardly Aragorn's fault but she simply couldn't find the breath to care as she walked past him. The hand on her arm startled her as he turned her back to face him, the surprise bringing her eyes up to his face. The compassion there made her pause.

"There is to be no shame in fear my lady, especially of dealings such as these. Everyone fears at some point - it is simply the mark of the courageous to overcome it."

His eyes held hers for a moment more before she nodded. While not completely at ease, she appreciated his attempts to console; it was more than most would have done.

------------------------------------------------------------------

The caves were spectacular, she'd seen them earlier that day and had been immediately enamoured much to Gimli's glee. She had watched in amusement as the Dwarf had practically salivated on the floor at just the touch of one of the walls while Legolas had stayed back near the entrance shaking his head at his friend's antics. Now, Dawn hardly noticed their beauty for the depression that weighed on the very air around her. Woman, children and elders shuffled around the place, most wearing expressions of immense tension or anguish. It was their sons and husbands outside about to fight and die to save them and Dawn could practically taste their helplessness - it was a taste she knew well.

She was so engrossed in studying the people around her sightlessly that she didn't register the blonde streak of movement heading her way until it had collided with her legs. Gasping, she looked down and met the distraught face of Freda.

"They took Eothain! They took him to fight!"

Dawn felt her heart go out to the girl as her small face crumpled and the first tear trekked its way down her cheek - and that was when the air started roaring.

The battle had started.


	13. For brothers, friends and haughty elves

As it was, Dawn actually did find herself in a corner - though she was hardly hiding. It seemed, all the attacks on the villages of Rohan had left quite a few children orphaned or without a mother and most, through George, had decided that Dawn was a good companion through hard times. George himself, Dawn had learned, had been commissioned by the king to help in the defence of the fort which was good in the way that he had enough strength to ensure one wall unto himself but also half annoying in the way that that left Dawn with all the children he had adopted in his time at Helms Deep. 

And so it was official. Dawn was the resident story-teller.

"So the Slayer went to the clock tower to find the source of the Gentlemen's power...but she was not the only one."

Damn it! She didn't even like children that much…at least not in numbers and definitely not all sitting around and waiting for her to say something interesting. She blamed Freda for this. Her and her big mouth.

Unfortunately the little blonde annoyance wasn't around to glare at. She had retreated back to her mother a little while ago, still sniffing slightly in the aftermath of her worried outburst - and Dawn didn't blame her. Her brother was barely thirteen and he had been sent out to fight an army of ten-thousand. It made Dawn sick, and even more indignant that the king would allow that but wouldn't let women help in the defence. It was ridiculous and wrong in ways that made her want to tear her hair out. But she wouldn't dwell on it. She wouldn't. Dammit she had a story to finish.

"And then the slayer opened her mouth and screamed and the Gentlemen around her clutched at their ears before -" A nicely timed boom from outside had the children all jumping. "- their heads all exploded in a rain of goo!"

"Ewwwww!"

Dawn grinned. If she couldn't get rid of the little rats the least she could do was gross them out a little.

"That was an interesting story my lady."

Dawn jumped at the new voice and spun around only for the shame of the afternoon to come back full force as she faced Eowyn. Eowyn didn't look all that crash hot herself, which Dawn might have noticed if she wasn't so busy looking at her feet.

"Might I...might I ask for a moment of your time my lady?"

Dawn concentrated on noticing the pattern the hem of her dress swayed as she nodded and stood, walking along side the shield-maiden as they meandered a path through the distraught townsfolk. It was an age before either spoke then, quite suddenly, they both obviously thought the time was right.

"I'm sorry..."

"I apologise..."

Dawn faltered and turned in semi-shock.

"Huh?"

"What?"

This time, both girls smiled slightly even as the roar and sounds of battle filtered in from over-head. Dawn inclined her head.

"You first."

Eowyn nodded and began in true noble style.

"I'm afraid, my lady, that your trust in me was for naught. I should have spoken by your side in the confrontation with my uncle but instead I stayed shamefully quiet. I am sorry and would beg of your forgiveness."

Dawn stared at Eowyn's bowed head in a state of shock. She was sorry? She begged of her forgiveness? Her mind was awash in a sea of confusion. It was only when Eowyn peeked a glance up through her lashes that Dawn realised that she had been silent since the shield-maiden's guilt-ridden confession. For a moment, she spluttered, struggling to find the words to tell the woman in front of her just how stupid she was for ever thinking she was to blame. Finally she just settled on telling her straight out.

"God no, don't be stupid!" she said forcefully before her eyes dropped once more to her feet and the bitterness flooded her voice. "Please, I was the one too cowardly to stand up and fight."

The fingers on her chin were soft but the grip sure as Dawn found her face tilted.

"I have seen you stand up and fight Dawn and you are anything but cowardly."

Dawn couldn't help a small smile at her words - ah, but if the Sunnydale gang could see her now. Granted, she was still hiding in a cave away from the battle but this one was a bigger battle, much more worthy of the skulking. Her eyes were rolling even as the pathetic thoughts surfaced in her mind and she inclined her head to Eowyn.

"So we good?"

The shield-maiden's smile got a little wider at her words as she nodded.

"It would appear so."

Again the two girls found themselves in silence, through this one more comfortable than the last. However, before the renewed feeling of companionship had even settled in the air a cry cut through the veritable stillness.

"My Lady!"

It took Dawn two seconds to pinpoint the source of the cry and when she did her blood ran cold - even before the woman's mouth had opened a second time.

"Please! My lady, Freda...my daughter, I cannot find her!"

Eowyn was quick to comfort the woman, falling effortlessly into role of peacemaker as she placed a reassuring hand on her kinswoman's shoulder.

"You are sure she simply didn't join the other children?"

Dawn didn't need the woman's shake of denial to know that there was no way Freda had simply wondered off to seek company with those her own age - the girl rarely played with the other children in the best of circumstances, preferring instead her own company or that of her brother...

Oh god no. Her brother.

Dawn felt her heart skip a horrified beat as cold realisation gripped her. She wouldn't. The girl was barely seven - there was no way she would think to...but in the back of her mind Dawn knew she would. Freda was just the sort to wonder out into a war and proceed to chastise her older brother for his abandonment.

She spun hurriedly back to Freda's mother, still answering Eowyn's questions as she sunk deeper into panic.

"Where was she?"

The woman looked almost stunned to find a second person in her midst and for a moment simply gaped at her before answering uncertainly.

"What..."

Dawn had to fight back the groan of frustration as she interrupted the bewildered question.

"Where was she, the last time you saw her?"

The confusion was thick in the woman's eyes but it mattered little to Dawn as she got the answer she sought.

"The outer wall - over there."

Dawn followed the gesture and started a terrified yet controlled walk through the masses - Eowyn and Freda's mother right on her heels. It didn't surprise her that the wall was one along the entrance - a particularly thin structure as caves went and facing straight onto the battle should it have had a picturesque window carved into it. The wall was smooth to her touch as she ran fevered hands over its contours, scanning the expanse in search of something she really didn't want to find.

"What are you looking for?"

The answer died halfway up Dawn's throat as she found it - and her heart plummeted. It was small, barely big enough for a hobbit and hidden behind a convenient outcrop of stalactites. It was the water that gave it away, trickling in from the darkness of the opening with the abandon only rain could bring. Eowyn spotted it seconds later.

"Oh...no."

Dawn was already moving by the time Freda's mother followed the shield-maiden's gaze and let out a cry of dismay. Hurriedly fumbling with the lases up the side of her over-dress Dawn yanked it over her head, leaving her in a travel-stained and loose-fitting slip lent to her by Eowyn. Hurriedly pulling the cord from the dress, she tied her hair back in a messy pony-tail, hoping that the twine would hold - it would not be a good thing to get her hair caught in such a tight space. Eowyn obviously read her thoughts.

"I'll go..."

Dawn shook her head before she'd even finished.

"Don't be ridiculous, look at that thing. I'm going to be lucky to get through."

Silence stretched then as Dawn turned and faced the pinched face of Freda's mother and something passed between them. For a moment, Dawn felt an understanding settle in her mind and the woman nodded slightly to her. Dawn took a deep breath.

"I'm going to try."

The second nod was slow in coming and, Dawn could tell, choked with tears though she barely saw the end of it before she turned and dropped to her knees.

The opening was smaller than she expected and she was forced to slide in on her belly at first, her elbows inching her along at an infuriatingly slow pace. About six feet in, the roof, if one could call it that, arched up a precious few inches and Dawn felt a relieved breath leave her lungs - if it had dipped lower, she wouldn't have been able to go any further. The water leaking under her was chilled and harsh with dirt, scratching at her fingertips and elbows and making her way slick-going.

It seemed an eternity before she was able to raise her head enough to look ahead and another age after that before she caught a glimpse of light at the end of the tunnel. The roof again dipped dangerously low before the end until finally she was able to reach a hand out and grasp the edge of the outer wall - hauling herself out and into a storm; figuratively and literally. For a moment she simply laid there, panting and terrified at the view she beheld.

Now that the rock wasn't pressing in around her, shielding her ears she could hear it clearly - the roar and the screams of metal as well as men. The orcs, it seemed, had gained advance to the outer wall and the sentries were a fury of clashing swords and dying yells. The place she'd come out led onto an outcropping of the cliff wall, barely a ten-foot jump to where the Deeping wall met unyielding rock - Dawn suddenly found herself with front-row tickets to the first assault of the Uruk-hai on the fortress of Helms Deep.

It was a crack and flash of lighting that startled her out of her observance and Dawn climbed hastily to her knees and scanned the outcrop she found herself stranded upon. It didn't take long to spot what she had come for.

Freda squealed when she grabbed her but Dawn didn't pay attention - too angry to care. She glared down at the girl struggling in her grasp.

"What the hell do you think you're doing! Are you trying to get yourself killed!"

Indignant as ever, Freda didn't even pause as she lunged to bite at Dawn's hand holding her wrist. Dawn however, was expecting it and let her go at the last moment to switch hands. That's when Freda tried to make a bolt for it and stumbled backwards. She would have gone over the cliff in a spectacular fall but luckily the orc was there to block her stumble.

Dawn watched as Freda froze upon hitting the growling mass behind her and slowly, ever so very slowly, turned to look up at the mass of blood, slime and white-paint. Dawn too found herself unmoving as she lost rapid control of the course of her heart. Freda was the first to move, crying out and making a dash back towards Dawn but she'd hardly taken a step before she was caught by the scruff of the neck and hauled up towards grimy fangs. Dawn didn't think as she leaped forward with a yell, slamming the toe of her boot into the orc's blue-black shin. That in itself didn't phase it overly, but she wouldn't mind betting the screaming mass of human teenager slamming into its chest and pitching it over the incline did. In fact, it phased it so much it reached out and grabbed said teen as it over balanced and, keeping a firm hold on its younger, blonder quarry also, fell back into empty space over the edge of the outcrop.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Legolas found himself partaking in a feeling of enjoyment despite himself. The battle was brutal and the foes many. A feeling of desperation hung like sweat in the air...and yet, amongst the fear and the death - he found a spark of pleasure. Whether or not that made him a monster was a point to ponder over at a later time but for now he was content to lose himself in the adrenalin of fighting ten-thousand orcs. Ten-thousand. When he'd heard the ominous number he had felt an ice in his veins like no other - three-hundred against ten-thousand was unheard of; a veritable slaughter. He had heard the number and despaired for the first time in Aragorn's company - there was no hope - how could there be?

But it seemed someone still liked the people of Rohan.

Haldir of Lorien had arrived leading the hope of Rohan and a host of Elven warriors. And Legolas found himself not sticking out like a sore thumb with pointed ears and blonde hair once more. Not since Lothlorien had he felt so inconspicuous and surprisingly, for an elf, he found himself loving every minute of it. When the battle had begun he was among his kin and beside the most unlikely friend you were to ever find of an elf. He loved it. In fact, he was loving just about everything up until his gaze happened to flicker up to the southern cliff-face. He was quite ashamed to admit he had let loose with a foul swear that had even the dwarf halting in shock and awe before he followed the direction of his gaze and bit out a phrase of his own.

"What, in the name of Sauron, does she think she's doing?" the dwarf growled as he swung his axe distractedly at an advancing orc, never taking his eyes from the scene playing out on the cliff face. Legolas just shook his head as he was forced to turn and decapitate a foe scrambling over the wall. Gimli's cry of dismay shot his eyes back up to the outcropping faster than a shot from his arrow. What he saw caused something suspiciously stomach-shaped to drop into his knees.

An orc had found its way onto the platform and currently held in its hand a previously-hidden, squirming mass of blonde hair. Legolas' breath caught as he realised just why the lady Dawn was out in the middle of a battle and also, a moment later, just why young daughters of man were said to be the stupidest creatures in Middle Earth. Any normal person could tell you, if you tackled an orc off the side of a cliff-face, things weren't likely to work out too well - but a youngling? They'd do it anyway...and she did, in spectacular fashion. The three fell as if in slow motion, plummeting from the side of the cliff in an arc that would have looked almost beautiful to someone who didn't realise the future consequences.

Legolas reacted without thinking and had three arrows in the air before he'd even registered lifting his bow. That was the easy part. Now came the seconds of waiting that were sure to stretch into hours.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Dawn liked to think she knew what she was doing most of the time. Despite the numerous kidnappings and accidental invitations to vampires, overall, 9 times out of 10, she figured she had some say in what happened in the world around her. This was one of those tenth times. Her eyes widened as realisation settled in her belly (which had settled in her toes) like a lead bullet. 'Oops' definitely didn't do this situation justice.

And then they were falling.

The air rushed past her ears, whipping away the roars of the orcs and the clashes of the swords until all that was left was one endless girly scream - coming from the orc. Then, just as sudden as the fall had started it stopped and Dawn felt the grip around her arm re-double as if in pain. It took a moment to register that her surroundings were no longer blurred in movement and that, no, she wasn't a sentient puddle of goop on the ravine floor, after which she proceeded to look up at the cause for the sudden halt. For the price of one question she got the answer to two. She not only found her saviour but also just why the orc was playing squeeze-the-Dawn with her left arm - she supposed the arrows times three still quivering out of it's mouth had to sting a little.

"Freda? Freda, you okay?"

Her voice sounded like she'd swallowed an epileptic gerbil but Dawn couldn't seem to care as she waited the horrifically long two second time span for Freda's shaky reply.

"Yes...I think..."

It was at this ideal moment that the orc chose to meet its maker and Dawn suddenly felt the grip around her arm slip and disappear. She cried out and for one heart pounding moment struggled for purchase on the creature's slick skin until her fingers came into contact with a rough-hewn material. Gripping for all she was worth, she struggled to silence her thundering pulse as she swallowed her heart that had decided her mouth was a good place to holiday.

"You still with me?"

This time it was Freda who sounded like a small-fury animal.

"Yes...yes..."

Dawn spared a moment to breathe a sigh of relief before suddenly a tearing sound right out of a horror-based porno rent the air. Dawn stopped breathing as she bobbed in midair and turned a frantic gaze up to her hand hold.

She did not like what she saw.

Of all the numerous scraps of clothing adorning the orcs body, of course she'd grabbed the only one that was going to throw her into an Orcish sex-ed lesson should it come loose. She swallowed heavily, more in horror at what could be uncovered should the patch come off than the fact that she would fall anyway. Looking over to the side of the wall they now found themselves pinned to Dawn saw only smooth granite with no chance for climbing. Swearing under her breath she turned her attention to her hanging companion.

"Okay Freda," Tearing again sounded and Dawn closed her eyes heavily. "Freda, I need you to climb up to the nasty orc's head for me kay?"

"Okay..."

Freda's meek agreement was followed by sounds of scrambling and the occasional rip of material until finally Freda's voice rang out from somewhere above her.

"Hey, these are the same colour as Legolas'."

The proclamation was spoken with an air of someone stating the weather while sipping a cup of tea on the back porch rather than hanging one hundred and fifty feet in the air by a dead minion pinned to a cliff face by its head. Dawn couldn't help the roll of her eyes, but none the less, the words served to calm her. So Legolas was watching was he? Oh boy did that make her feel so much better than it should have.

Taking a renewed breath Dawn contemplated her options. She could try climbing up her side, but with no hand or footholds on the wall the going would be difficult. She would be forced to rely completely on the orc for support - the orc who was pinned by only three measly arrows through the back of the throat. Yeah, can we say 'no' in five different languages? Her other option was to swing across the orc for where Freda had been - if the girl could climb up that way, it meant the wall was at least minimally helpful. It was the swinging part that had Dawn squicking…or rather, what she'd be swinging from.

Oh god she was never going to look at an orc the same way again.

Squeezing her eyes shut for a moment of foreboding she began the arduous process of swinging herself across the orcs body, attempting to reach its hand on the other side. It was slow going at first, starting with minor swaying and building up to a full-blown back and forth movement - and each time, the sound of the rip got louder. Finally she was in reach - just one more hard shove should have it done. The problem was, Dawn wasn't so sure the Orc's butt-flap had one more hard shove left in it. But there was nothing for it. Focusing her gaze imploringly on the aimed-for appendage, she pushed off the wall hard with her foot and found herself flying up and over the orc's body, coming to land hard on the other side and rebounding. Her fingers slipped across the orc's hand for a heart-rending second before she found purchase and grabbed on tightly, her feet in turn hooking into clefts in the wall.

It took her mere moments to climb her way up to Freda at the head of the orc and she breathed a sigh of relief at her reliance now on the wall rather then the precariously pinned minion.

"Freda, don't look down okay?"

Freda turned understanding eyes on her.

"Do not worry. I am not afraid of heights."

Dawn shook her head.

"That's not what I meant."

And the butt-flap fluttered to the ground.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Legolas spared a look up to the girls performing death-defying acrobatics against the rock-face and almost shot Gimli in shock. He was blind! Surely this horror was not possible in the world that spawned such visions as Lothlorien in the light of a full moon? Swallowing heavily he focused his eyes above the atrocity and breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the two girls anchored securely against the cliff face. But now what to do with them?

"Gimli! Cover me!"

------------------------------------------------------------------

Well okay, that was eventful but now what? She could tell at a glance that there was no way Freda was going to be able to scale the wall. It wasn't for lack of fissures and handholds but Dawn knew the girl just wouldn't have the strength to pull herself the length of it. Which left them sitting on an orc's head pinned to a cliff-face with three well-placed arrows through its mouth and wondering what to do. Dawn was just contemplating her possible success at carrying the girl when a whistle and a thunk rent the air and she looked up sharply at the still quivering, golden-feathered arrow sticking out of the fissure about a foot above her head. Another followed that into a barely-visible chink in the stone about two feet above the one before.

Dawn grinned.

Within no time the make-shift ladder was in place, some shafts still trembling in the rock-face.

"Freda, you first."

She made it up with little trouble and Dawn followed soon after, finally collapsing into the outcrop with a grunt of relief next to her annoyingly trouble-finding charge. After a minute's thanking god to be alive she spoke.

"Okay girlie - back into the caves."

Freda turned anxious eyes on her and Dawn read her argument before she'd even opened her mouth.

"No, you're not looking for your brother. He would kill me if I even thought about letting you."

Dawn watched helplessly as big blue eyes filled with huge fat tears and couldn't help the wrench in her heart because of it. She reached out a hand to the girl.

"Oh Freda..."

She was cut off from her reassurances before they even started as a growl took up behind them. Spinning to the Deeping wall Dawn spied at least three orcs contemplating the jump from the wall to the outcrop and almost swallowed her tongue.

"Go Freda!"

The girl finally did as she was told for once and scrambled for the opening to the cave as Dawn searched the platform for anything to use as a weapon. She came up with a whole lotta water, a patch of scaling grass and a rock roughly the size of an orc's fist. She went for the rock just as the first orc leaped the distance and landed roaring on the platform opposite her. Glancing frantically at Freda's feet disappearing into the hole, she faced off against the beast, trying her best to keep the rain from running into her eyes.

The orc lunged first, swinging a sword the size of a small child towards her head - big mistake - even Dawn knew you didn't swing at the small targets unless you were sure of a hit. She ducked out of the way easily and rolled to the side, catching the orc in the shoulder with the rock still gripped in her hand. The creature showed no indication that the blow had even bothered it beyond swinging a wild arc that caught the cliff-face in a bone-shuddering thump that caused Dawn to cringe and shy away. The orc advanced but paused suddenly as the ground beneath them shivered and a slight crumbling issued from the opening into the caves.

Dawn watched in horror as the opening collapsed in a shower of rocks and dust-turned-mud effectively cutting off any chance of her escaping back into the caves and safety. She turned on the orc with a glint in her eye that made even it, as dense as it was, pause for a moment in uncertainty.

"She'd better have made it through buddy."

She compounded her razor tone with a throw that would have done her PE teacher proud. The rock landed squarely in the orc's crotch. The orc doubled over with a squeak to rival mighty-mouse and Dawn took the opportunity given her and ran at it. Using its own knee as a step up, she leaped onto its back and, using the momentum it created by straightening in surprise, jumped the distance from the outcrop to the platform.

She landed hard but scrambled to her feet in the face of the two orcs standing in front of her. Shaking and weapon-less she waited for them to attack...

And waited.

Finally they moved, but only to collapse face-first on the battlement, golden-feathered arrows sticking merrily out of their backs. Dawn's eyes rested on the carcases for a moment before she looked up and to the arrows owner, who was just lowering his bow.

"What are you doing?"

Legolas strode towards her angrily and Dawn felt her hackle rising at his tone. He sounded like a parent chastising a child. She cocked an eyebrow.

"Trying to get myself killed, what does it look like?"

The sarcasm in her tone was thicker than molasses and Dawn was vaguely satisfied to see the falter in Legolas' step as he stopped in front of her. What little pleasure she took in his discomfort was short-lived however as he grabbed her arm and yanked her off down the wall, in its place was full-blown annoyance.

"Hey!"

Men, elves and orcs battled riotously around them and yet Legolas took no notice except to knock out a passing orc every now and then as he dragged her through the chaos. Finally Dawn had had enough. Steeling her eyes she planted her heels and wrenched her arm out of his grip, effectively bringing both of them to a stop and elbowing an orc off the wall and to it's death.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

She watched as he took in her stance of hands on hips and Summers resolve face and seemed to think better of grabbing her again - smart elf.

"You need to go back-" He paused to give an orc a souvenir arrow in the chest. "-to the caves."

Dawn rolled her eyes and ducked, narrowly missing the swing of an orc blade. She spoke as Legolas dispatched said orc.

"I couldn't even if I wanted to. The entrances are all barricaded and the way I came just collapsed."

Legolas seemed to ponder this a moment as he herded her against a wall and proceeded to take out five advancing orcs. Dawn watched him with arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently until the last orc dropped with a brand new feathered eye ornament.

"Look," she stepped up to him, taking advantage of the lull in foes for the moment to reassure him with a hand on his arm. "I can take care of myself."

The elf looked doubtful and Dawn struggled not to roll her eyes as she went on.

"If you really want to help me, give me a weapon - it's really unfair that I was the only one who missed the sale."

She practically watched the last part of the sentence sail over the elf's head but he seemed to think it over for a moment before reaching behind him. His hand re-emerged with his wickedly curved long knife that Dawn's fingers positively itched to touch and she smiled as he handed it to her. The handle was ivory and had perfect grip as well as balance - something she hadn't had time to notice the first time she'd used it to dispatch the warg. Weighing the blade in her hand, she looked up to thank Legolas and found herself ensnared in his eyes as he squeezed her hand around the long- knife.

"Be careful."

Something inside of her reached cooking temperature at just those two words passing the elf's lips and she couldn't help the smile that took a hold of her lips.

"Always."

She stepped forward and, without thinking, brushed her lips across his cheek in thanks before turning away and meandering her way once more through the chaos - this time towards the outer wall.

Legolas was barely out of sight when the full weight of her situation hit her. Oh God. What the hell was she doing? She was in the middle of a battle. Her. Dawn Summers. What in the name of god-damned hell did she think she was doing! She wasn't a fighter! She wasn't! No matter how good a knife felt in her hand. No matter how natural it all seemed. No matter…how easily she'd just killed that orc.

The thing made a pathetic death-scream as it slid off her blade.

Oh…what was happening to her?

Without realising, she'd managed to walk right into the thick of the battle. This wasn't all that strange as she was Buffy's sister and so inherently drawn to trouble. What was strange was the fact she was holding her own. Legolas' blade had somehow become an extension of her hand…an extension she knew how to use really really well. This was definitely more than just years of Buffy watching. Something was happening to her. Now she just had to hope she survived this so she could work out what it was.

Their armour was weak at the neck and beneath the arm. She found it quickly and so settled effortlessly into a pattern of slashes and strikes. Orc after orc fell before her. And it was easy. Or at least she didn't die straight away. She could almost feel the blows before they came and found herself blocking and dodging in a way that would have had even Buffy taking notes. Something inside of her sat up with a proud smirk on its face at that thought. Then of course she narrowly missed getting her head cut off and decided it was probably a good idea to keep her head in the game. Lord knew when this spell or whatever was going to cut off.

Her blade sunk between another nasty-ugly's ribs and it gurgled at her before dying. It was as she turned to find her next opponent that her eye snagged on it - a particularly dense group of orcs near the centre of the army. While their comrades were running for the walls, intent on access, this group stood still as statues, swords out and...keeping look out. The realisation came to her right as a group of four monsters emerged from the centre of the bundle carrying between them what looked like oversized and very evil bowling balls. She swung backwards distractedly and caught an orc in a blow to the throat with Legolas' long- knife before finishing the job with a kick off the wall, all the while never taking her eyes off the foreboding-looking entourage. As she watched, one orc carrying the front ball stumbled and fell, spilling something from the, she now realised, container in his hand. Dawn's eyes narrowed as she turned her head left and right, her eyes finally catching what she was looking for.

Two strides and a dead orc later, she was raising her hand and tapping the platinum blonde on the shoulder. She had noticed them not long after her first baby steps into the battle - the Legolas look-a-likes fighting side by side with the men of Rohan. Elves, it would seem, had joined the war and Dawn didn't bother stifling the breath of relief at the revelation. If even half of them fought as well as Legolas himself...

The elf spun to her with sword raised but seemed to stagger a bit as he realised just what he was looking at. His eyes raked her up and down and Dawn shifted uncomfortably. So yes, she was grimy, bloody, wet and only in a slip of a dress - the damn pointy-ear didn't have to stare.

"Hey, cool armour."

The elf seemed to falter all over again as he looked down at his now blood-streaked but obviously what had once been very shiny ornamental battle gear and Dawn continued.

"You're an elf right?" She didn't really need to the nod of confirmation and was dragging the poor guy over to the wall before he'd even inclined his head. Dawn pointed. "Take a look down there and tell me what you see."

"A lady such as you..."

Dawn held up a hand to still his requests for her to flee screaming like the girl she was.

"Uh ah, down there - little patch of dirt all orcs seem to be avoiding like the plague."

And indeed they were. Since the spill, no orc had dared go near it, and that's what worried her. She turned back to the elf who sighed heavily as he looked from her and down to where she had pointed.

"It's powder, black powder..."

Dawn swore under her breath and glanced around her before noticing the bow and quiver of arrows on the elf's back.

"Do you reckon you could hit that powder from here with an arrow?"

The elf frowned as he casually ran through an advancing orc.

"Unquestionably."

Dawn nodded, before turning quickly and running to a ladder that had just breached the wall not far from where the two had stood, grabbing up a fallen spear as she went. Two seconds later, an orc's head appeared growling over the incline and Dawn grinned at the torch he held in one slimy hand. Reaching over, she plucked the fire from the creature's surprised hand.

"Thanks buddy."

With that she ran the orc through with the spear and, using his falling momentum, pushed the ladder away from the wall and into the darkness. She returned to the regal looking elf with a torch firmly in hand and he raised an eyebrow imperiously at her. Dawn took no notice, shoving the torch into his hand.

"I'm Dawn by the way," she introduced, pulling Legolas' knife out of the makeshift holder she'd made by simply stabbing it through the material of her dress at her hip.

"Haldir, Marchwarden of Lothlorien."

Dawn nodded as she used the knife to rip a strip of her dress at the sleave before returning it to her hip.

"Nice to meetcha," She looked up to him. "May I?"

Without waiting for an answer she snared one of his arrows from the quiver at his back and wrapped the cloth hastily around it. She would have to be quick or the orcs were going to reach the wall before she'd verified just what exactly the powder was. She really didn't want to believe her suspicions. Haldir watched her curiously as she tied the cloth hurriedly before passing the fabric-tipped arrow into the flames of the torch, making sure to soak a little of the fuel from the torch into the material as well.

"Get ready."

It was barely a second from when she passed the arrow to him to when it was sailing through the air. Dawn held her breath as it dropped squarely toward its target and prayed. Don't spark, don't spark, don't spark...

The flaming arrow hit and the powder sizzled in a small shower of sparks that made the orcs around it leap away and Dawn swore colourfully.

"What new witchery is this?"

Haldir's voice sounded harsh with nerves and Dawn didn't blame him as she turned and searched frantically for the bowling-balls from hell. She finally spotted them as the last one disappeared into a column at the base of the deeping wall, not twenty feet from where she and Haldir now stood.

"Oh shit!"

She'd started running before she even fully realised what she was doing. There was a column damn it! She had enough common knowledge to know that had the bombs been simply blasted against the outside of the wall all that would have resulted was a few scorched bricks and a whole lot of singed eyebrows - but there was an opening. Dawn had slept through science but even she knew the fire-cracker theory. Sit it on your hand and end up with a burned palm - wrap your fingers around it and say goodbye to a valuable appendage. They were about to lose the wall.

"Legolas!"

She'd spotted the elf moments after spotting the Olympic torch runner of an orc heading for the column and screamed for all she was worth as she ran towards the site that was about to become rubble. The elf spun at her cry and Dawn pointed frantically down at the marathon orc.

"Take him out!"

The first arrow slammed into the orc's chest before her cry had even dissipated and it stumbled but didn't slow. Dawn could already see Legolas cocking another arrow out of the corner of her eye and so turned her attention to Aragorn, who, she'd seen, had managed to position his clueless ranger skin on the wall practically right on top of the column.

"Aragorn!"

The ranger turned from watching the torch-runner himself at her cry and she screamed for all she was worth as she sprinted past Gimli.

"Get off the wall! Get them off!"

But it was too late. The explosion was deafening and as the screams rang in her ears Dawn found herself wondering absurdly just why they had had such a conspicuous orc running for the column - surely any normal torch would have done? The answer died before it ever reached the realisation part of her mind as everything went black.

She supposed the orcs were just showmen to the core...

------------------------------------------------------------------

Legolas watched in horrified fascination as the wall blew apart not thirty feet from where he was standing, the blast rocking him on his feet. Chunks of rock sailed through the air like they were made of feathers, whistling lightly but the illusion was shattered when they met the ground once more. Orcs, men and elves - none were spared some casualty to the debris and Legolas himself was made to duck and slam against the wall to avoid having his head taken off. And he had been thirty feet away. Dawn and Aragorn...

Sound came back to him with a rush, and along with it, the realisation of his friend's peril. By the Valar, if anything had happened to them...

He scrambled to his feet hurriedly and ran, watching in horror as the hoards of orcs breached the gaping hole newly blasted in the impenetrable Deeping wall. Behind him came the sounds of banging that indicated the arrival of a battering ram at the gate but he couldn't seem to get up the strength to care as his eyes scanned the ravine floor, struggling to see through the dissipating dust.

------------------------------------------------------------------

"Dawn."

Dawn groaned as her head throbbed at the sound of her name.

"Ten more minutes mum..."

This time a hand joined in on her torment, shaking her shoulder harshly.

"Dawn, you have to get up."

Fighting the nausea that threatened to make a cameo appearance for the night, Dawn cracked her eyes open and coughed. A face hung in her vision, grimier than Xander's plate after thanksgiving and desperate enough to give her sister's love life a run for its money. Geeze, she must have been last in line at the guardian angel sale cause this one just sucked.

"Aragorn!"

The angels face whipped quickly to the side and his eyes registered fear as he stood, dragging her along with him.

"Gimli!"

Dawn raised her head in time to see a small, frizzy cannon ball drop down into a gang of orcs paddling in the ravine, not far from where she was swaying unsteadily on her feet. The angel, who she was now coming to realise, was a post-blasting Aragorn, turned from the fray and screamed something indiscernible back into the shadows behind them. Dawn turned to follow the direction of his shout and felt every nerve in her body come wide awake in an instant at the sight of about a hundred elves raising bows and arrows in their direction.

She didn't need to know anything about the elvish language to know what Aragorn screamed next, the whistling arrows were enough indication and Dawn closed her eyes tightly, praying that Legolas wasn't the only one with his level of skill with the bow among the elves. Aragorn's next cry brought her eyes snapping open and Dawn looked down at herself, patting herself down experimentally. Finally, convinced that she had not joined the league of the pincushions she raised her eyes back up to Aragorn.

"I do hope the whispers of your skill that have reached my ears of late were not embellishments my lady."

Dawn stared at him a moment as the ranger handed her a sword that glinted in the moonlight, seeming to reflect the raindrops as much as repel them. Dawn turned the sword idly, feeling the familiar grip in her hand as she took in the regal design. It was the sword, the one she'd taken from the man in the forest upon first landing in this god-forsaken place - Boromir's sword. His grunts again assailed her ears as arrow after arrow slowly drained his fight and Dawn remembered the pain and desperation in his eye - desperation to save his friends; pain that he could not. She knew that pain, the helplessness.

Her eyes steeled as her grip on the sword assured itself.

Well not this time. She didn't wait for Aragorn's order this time as she charged, feeling the rain stream over her, rather than washing the blood and grime away, seeming to ingrain it into her skin. And Dawn welcomed it. She ploughed into the line of orcs with abandon, amazingly avoiding impaling herself on one of the many spears held out in readiness. Three orcs fell to her sword before she ripped Legolas' knife from her hip also and proceeded to wreak havoc on the hoards. She spun and sliced with abandon, moving without thought or feeling, relying entirely on an instinct she'd never known she'd possessed to keep herself alive. From the corner of her eye she watched as Legolas joined the party in his own unique style - surfing down the rough-hewn steps from what remained of the Deeping wall, taking out Orcs left right and centre.

She never noticed she had been fighting towards him until they were back to back, blades flashing in the night like flames in a fire. And Dawn was loving it. Should she have given the feeling thought she felt sure it would have disturbed her and yet at that moment, fighting back to back with an elven warrior and porno-dream come true, she couldn't seem to care.

"Where did you learn to fight like that?"

Three orcs were dead by his blade before he'd finished the sentence and Dawn grinned as she relieved a passing orc of its arm.

"I have no idea!"

At that moment, a particularly big orc stepped in front of her, knocking the sword from her grip and wrapping its hand around her throat. Dawn gagged for a moment as Legolas cried out, busy himself with three foes and unable to get to her, before her grip on the orc's wrists hardened in determination. She swung out with her foot and relished in the crunch that resounded as it landed squarely in the orc's knee. The beast roared in pain and dropped her heavily onto her feet. Dawn was ready for it and had barely gained her feet before she swung a left hook that would have made Spike proud straight at the orc's head. It fell like a sack of potatoes and Dawn shook her aching hand mildly.

"That, I learned from my sister," she informed the gaping elf at her side before glancing up and over the chaos. They were over-run with orcs and more were spilling in from the opening in the wall. Dawn could tell that there was no way in hell they were going to hold. As if reading her mind, the King's voice boomed down from above.

"Fall back to the Keep! Aragorn! Get your men out of there!"

Dawn breathed a sigh of relief as Aragorn took up the call and turned to follow orders before something caught her eye that made her heart plummet. She was running before Aragorn's second cry had even sounded, cutting down orcs left right and centre in her efforts to reach the opposite end of the battle.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Eothain thought he had been doing quite well. He was still alive and had at least a few orc-deaths to his name. Who could hope for anything more? Well anything other than a little help with the ugly, salivating brute that was backing him up into a corner with the merriment of an elf in song. Oh his sister was going to kill him if he died out here.

The orc growled menacingly then, obviously tired of the game of playing with him (and Eothain knew that's what it had been doing too) and having settled on a simple beheading. The sword swung hard and true and Eothain struggled to keep his eyes from squeezing closed. If he was going to die, he was going to do it without any outward signs of fear…you know, beyond the incessant trembling. The blade was half the distance to his neck when it froze mid swing and Eothain looked up at the orc in surprise - or more accurately, the blade protruding from the orc's chest. It was with an odd gurgling sound that it fell forward dead at his feet and Eothain stared at it a moment before looking up and into the eyes of his saviour.

The Lady Dawn grinned back at him.

"Come on. Latest news is we're retreating."

Eothain just stared at her back a moment more before he started after the girl. He knew he should have been ashamed of his salvation - saved by a girl - but in the back of his mind, he knew that Dawn was no mere girl. Not even Helena knew how to fight like Dawn and she was the best girl he had ever met. He hadn't been able to help noticing, along with most of the boys of the village, just how pretty the she-warrior was also. Eothain felt himself blush at his thoughts as he watched in awe, the girl cutting a path through the battle, leading him to safety.

Yep, the Lady Dawn was definitely the best girl now.

------------------------------------------------------------------

"Haldir!"

Dawn heard the name and recognised it, following Aragorn's gaze up to the broken wall to the elf who had helped her identify the gunpowder. Aragorn yelled something up to him in what could only be elvish and Dawn watched as he nodded, slicing an orc out of his path. She turned, cutting an orc from her own path before glancing up once more to the armoured elf, just in time to catch his jerking movement as the blade entered him.

"No! Haldir!"

Her cry was drowned out by the clashing of swords and Dawn growled, fighting with all her might as she made her way to the stairs of the wall. She reached them at a dead bolt, Eothain still on her heels as she scrambled up them to the carnage on the rocks. Bodies were strewn everywhere, elf, orc and man combined but Dawn barely took any notice as she saw the orc behind Haldir, sword raised to strike a killing blow. She never gave it thought as she screamed and leaped onto the back of the beast, startling it into lowering its weapon as it fought to remove the growth of screaming teenager that seemed to have sprung up on its shoulders.

It was her cries that got his attention. Haldir spun, holding his left arm stiff as blood trickled from his shoulder and seemed surprised to find the foe behind him. Quick as a snake striking, he buried his sword in the beast's side, cutting it almost halfway through before his sword clanked with another. The orc fell apart, cut completely in half at the middle and Haldir found himself facing a human boy, no more than 13 years of age if his eyes were not cheated, his sword stained with the same orc blood his own now was. For a moment they simply stood and stared, both obviously shocked at the revelation before the orc's torso landed at their feet. Haldir was ashamed to say he jumped at the resulting sound before his eyes flicked to the side where he found the Lady Dawn peeling herself out of the pool of orc blood, having just shoved the torso off herself.

"Oh that was beyond gross."

Reaching down with his good arm, Haldir hastily pulled her to her feet, and took in her bloodied and battered appearance.

"I thank you lady..."

The girl waved a hand to silence him, a gesture that served to amuse him more than anything else.

"Thanks later, right now we gotta go."

Looking around him, Haldir saw the wisdom in her words clearly as he swung around and took out an orc advancing up the wall - but there were five to take its place.

"Follow!" He ordered and started for the stair leading down into the chaos that was once counted as safe ground. The girl and boy followed, the lady Dawn bringing up the rear and doing an admirable job at keeping the orcs following at bay. He would definitely have to remind himself to ask Elessar where he had found the intriguing female.

The following moments became a blur of fighting and yelling, as the group of three struggled their way through the orcs flooding in through the breach of the wall but it was akin to three insects struggling through molasses. Realisation of the hopelessness of their situation came to Haldir the moment they were forced to stop, back to back and he looked up to the gate into the keep and saw Elessar's back disappear behind the slamming wood. A shadow settled over his heart as he cut down three orcs with one swing only to have ten take their place and a shiver passed down his spine. Of all the ways to die.

Then something miraculous happened.

"Halt!"

Every orc that had previously been about to chop them into bite-size pieces froze mid-swing and backed up, milling around anxiously as, what could only be their leader, came forth. Haldir spared a glance up to the keep but his view was blocked by the wall - probably why no volley of arrows had rained down to their rescue, before turning back to the broad and rumbling mass of orc that claimed leadership over the army. To his surprise and partial annoyance, the orc's gaze skimmed him only momentarily - seemingly deeming him little threat as he looked down upon the girl. The lady, for her part, stood a bit taller, despite her shivering and stared the orc straight in the snarling face. He really had to find out where this girl had come from.

"You are the female that travelled with the wizard."

It was more a statement than a question and Haldir watched in partial admiration as the girl raised her chin in accord and spoke with a thread of steel in her tone.

"What of it?"

The beast stepped forward and Haldir's respect for the girl grew when she didn't back down in the face of the mass of muscle.

"My master begs an audience with you."

Haldir could tell the creature had been fed the words to say - no orc spoke as civil as the leader of the rabble was now, though he still found himself taken aback at the words coming from a mouth so fanged. The girl too seemed surprised and, for the first time since their confrontation, took a step back from the beast.

"Why?"

The orc followed her retreat and grabbed her arm in a crushing grip.

"Not my business," it growled and hauled the girl forward. Haldir cried out and leaped to her defence, or would have, had he not been held back. The leader's order growled across the soundwaves.

"Kill the others."

Dawn heard the words and felt her blood run cold as the orcs all scrambled to comply, raising weapons and growling cheerfully.

"No!"

The cry left her mouth involuntarily and, surprisingly, the masses paused a moment as she twisted out of the leader's grip, bringing her sword around to bear.

The leader laughed as the sword-tip swayed in front of him.

"You cannot win."

Dawn looked around desperately. She really hated it when the bad guys were right. They were out numbered and out muscled. There was just no way. They would have been dead already except for the stupid wizard who wanted her alive…

It was just like in those cartoons. Dawn wouldn't have been surprised if there was a little light bulb above her head. In front of her, the leader was still laughing. Dawn almost found it funny how abruptly he stopped when she swung the sword's point so it was aimed at her own heart.

"No!" Eothain cried.

The leader snarled.

"You think that will save them?"

Dawn tried to ignore her trembling.

"I think your master wants me alive. And I think you'd be a whole lot of trouble if I suddenly wasn't anymore – especially if I was in your custody when it happened. So here's what's going to happen – you're going to let my friends go. Then and only then will I drop this sword."

The ridiculousness of the situation was not lost on Dawn. Here she was, trying to save her friends by threatening her own life. Buffy would likely strangle her if she could see what she was doing.

In front of her the leader seemed to be weighing his options.

"You would not take your own life," he growled.

It was strange. In that moment Dawn felt the weirdest sense of deja vu. Something in her shivered at the words. Something else made her steel her gaze and press the blade into her chest. A circle of blood blossomed on her dress where the tip pushed.

"Wouldn't I?"

Dawn's gaze didn't falter as she stared down the leader. His did.

"Let them pass!"

The order passed through the crowd of orcs like a ripple and Dawn breathed a ragged sigh of relief as they shifted, growling to allow a passage up to the gate. Dawn turned her gaze on Haldir and Eothain. She'd never seen two people look more torn.

"Please," Dawn said, her throat beginning to close in fear. "You have to or you both die and they take me anyway. At least this way someone knows what happened."

They wavered. That's about when the leader's patience ran out.

"Drop them at the gate!"

Dawn gasped as the orcs surged forward and, surprisingly careful not to hurt the two, dragged Haldir and Eothain up towards the gate.

"Now you come."

Dawn looked up at the leader and glared. On the inside however she was shaking in her proverbial boots. Just what the hell did Saruman want with her?

"When they're inside I'll start moving," she gritted and turned in time to see the gate closing hurriedly behind Eothain. Her breath caught as the weight of her situation suddenly came to bear. She was cold, wet and alone in the middle of around ten thousand Uruk-hai. And she was afraid. Oh hell how she was afraid. Shivering uncontrollably she dropped the sword to her side. She wasn't really surprised when she was knocked out a moment later.


	14. Of Santa and his Elves

Okay, you will have noticed up until now that I've been focused mainly on the movies. Not a lot changes here except the character of Saruman; I really thought it a bit hokey in the movies how they skipped over explaining one of the biggest powers Saruman has: his voice. Those who have read the books will understand my meaning and hopefully, for those who haven't, what I have done here is relatively self-explanatory. As always, nothing is mine and I still claim the title of supreme baby when it comes to my knowledge of the Tolkien-verse; if nothing else the guy was ingeniously thorough. 

Thanks for reading and enjoy.

-------------------------------------------FIC HERE

The battle was not swinging even remotely in their favour. Haldir could see this not only on the field but also written on the faces of the men and elves around him as they fought on in desperation. The Uruk-hai were simply too many - too many and too well manoeuvred. As if to hammer the point home a scream suddenly sounded from behind him and the elf spun in time to see a giant metal grapple already securing itself onto the wall, its tip still stained with blood. A dread took a hold of his heart as he, and many more from the surround, ran to the wall and peered into the darkness.

The ladders had been expected and so, hardly surprised him but the horror that came from being right in such matters sent a chill down his spine none the less. Without a word he brought forth his bow and knocked an arrow, sighting the winch of the middle ladder. It snapped without him ever having to let go. It shocked him for a moment and his mind grappled before he registered that someone else had taken the shot before him. He had spotted Legolas just lowering his bow before the ladder full of orcs even broke their falls ineffectually on the hard rocks below and felt his teeth grit of their own accord.

'At least this way someone will know what happened'. Those had been her words and they weighed on him mightily. Someone will know what happened…but would someone act upon the knowledge? The battle was all but lost. At the rate they were all going, the people of Rohan along with those that stood with them were going to be dead come midday. The lady Dawn would most likely be, ironically, the longest surviving fighter of Helms Deep.

Haldir was far from the wisest of his kind, he knew this, but he had sense enough to know a bluff when he heard one uttered in desperation. Who was this girl? This daughter of man that could fight with a ruthlessness that had orcs falling dead at her feet. There was something about her. Something unusual; something unnerving…

All this time he had been caught in thought his eyes had rested unseeingly on Legolas and Haldir found himself suddenly tugged out of his reminiscing as his subject of focus turned and headed away from him. It was in that moment that his mind was made up. Though the battle may be lost and the hope little, the lady Dawn's companions would know of her peril - and perhaps strive to live to see her through it.

------------------------------------------------------------------

"Aragorn!"

Legolas threw the rope on his call and watched anxiously as his friend below grabbed Gimli and swung out across the wall. It suddenly took all his strength to keep the two from falling and Legolas gritted his teeth at the strain until, just as suddenly, he felt the weight shared. A glance behind him told him all he needed to know as Haldir of Lorien nodded tersely to him and pulled harder on the rope. Together, they hauled Aragorn and the substantial weight of Gimli over the battlement. Legolas swore he was going to force the Dwarf on a diet should the two of them survive the night. Just as soon as they found their footing the call swept through the masses.

"The Castle is breached! Retreat!"

Something in the air seemed to falter and fall at the words and it took only the smash of the gates being breached below him for Legolas to realise it was hope. The battle was lost.

Ten thousand against three hundred. Oh how he loathed being right.

The run from the battlements into the keep seemed to take an age as he fired arrow after arrow, scanning the crowd as he went - he didn't realise what he was looking for until he didn't find it. He stopped so suddenly on the stairs up to the doorway Gimli bit off a swear behind him and very nearly toppled backwards.

"Dawn! Where is she?"

No one seemed to take any notice of him besides Gimli who halted at his question, seeming to realise at the same moment the Lady's absence. Aragorn had already made it into the keep. Surprisingly enough, it was Haldir who offered an answer; an answer that had the blood in his veins running with ice.

"You cannot aid her for now by simply standing."

Legolas felt as though his legs had gone out from under him though he still stood firm on the spot. His mouth was dry as sawdust when he next spoke.

"I cannot aid her by standing..." His throat suddenly closed making his next words torture to part with. "Or I cannot aid her by any means?"

He couldn't comprehend the feeling that coursed through him at the thought that the lady Dawn may have fallen. He felt his lungs shallow and his heart speed up; his palms sweat and his mouth dry, and yet he couldn't combine the signs to come to a feeling. He was simply...drowning. Until Haldir dragged him roughly from his turmoil, physically by grabbing his arm at the elbow and pushing him up the last remaining steps, and psychologically by providing him with an answer that loosened the pressure about his lungs if only a little.

"By standing!" He growled, tugging him into the keep just as the gate slammed shut behind them. "She was taken by the one who leads the rabble outside - taken to Saruman."

The confusion must have showed on Legolas' face because his kinsman continued.

"To what end, I know not. But the lady yet lives - that you may hold to your heart."

Legolas looked up sharply at the words but didn't have time to think on them as the first thump of the ram against the door sounded. Ah yes, the battle still sang. Legolas steeled his gaze. Well, if they were going to ride to the rescue of the Lady Dawn before the Summer Solstice they had best get a move on. Time waited for no man, elf or Dwarf.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Dawn opened her eyes with a groan and found herself staring up at a giant forbidding chess piece. Or that was her close enough approximation. As it was, she was very soon corrected.

"Welcome to Isengard My Lady."

The last two words were literally spat at her by a short mangy looking orc who leaned over her with the air of someone inspecting the goods at a fruit-market. Dawn cringed away from him rather ineffectually but needn't have bothered as he turned from her and addressed someone else.

"Take her to the study; 'e's in a meetin' at the moment."

It was said with what had to be a bark of a laugh and Dawn screwed up her nose at the sound as she followed his notice to one of the big-bad's who had attacked helm's deep - the high-guys or whatever Aragorn had called them. The larger orc nodded with a growl and reached down for her. She tried to move only to find her hands bound tight in front of her and inwardly, she rolled her eyes. Talk about de-ja-vu. As if to add insult to injury, the orc latched onto her bound hands and swung her over onto it's back where Dawn once again found herself indulging in the unique scent of orc-who's-been-running-a lot. If they could only bottle it they'd make a fortune in the chemical warfare industry.

Dawn closed her eyes and resigned herself to the fact that it was obviously her fate to be an orcish travel accessory as she was bumped and jolted across a land that stunk almost as much as her new companion. Smoke billowed from fissures in the ground and the distinct smell of sulphur and coal hung in the air, burning her lungs and making her eyes water. Everywhere she turned there were orcs - not the high ones but the little runty ones that seemed to give new meaning to the words gross and pustule. They carried things at a stoop and snarled as they worked. Dawn wondered idly if they had a workers union and if so, concluded that they obviously didn't get a dental plan out of the deal.

She was brought out of her inner musings as the orc she was currently attached to halted and Dawn looked up...and up...and up.

Okay, definitely a big chess-piece. Her eyes had barely reached the thorned top before the orc was moving once more, this time at a slower pace as it entered the building and began climbing. Dawn sincerely hoped they weren't going to the roof because she really couldn't see them getting there before Christmas hit...if they had Christmas here. She'd have to ask Legolas, he was an elf...

She almost snickered when she imagined the look on the elf's face should she ask him how Santa was this time of year...then she got to the visuals. Legolas...in stripy stockings and curled shoes with bells on. She could almost see him now, dancing around with Haldir to a cheerful little Christmas ditty while the Reindeers munched on his jacket-tails.

She couldn't stop the snort of laughter this time and it bubbled out of her at the exact moment the orc came to an abrupt halt and swung her over his shoulder. Dawn wasn't even close to ready for the movement and so felt her feet scramble ineffectually at the obviously polished floor before she resigned herself and landed most unceremoniously on the ground. Unfortunately the snort had far from run its course and the last of it burst out just as her butt hit the hard stone.

"Is there something amusing Lady?"

Dawn froze and looked at the floor in front of her to find a pair of the most immaculately white shoes she had ever seen. Following the legs attached to the shoes and beyond, she finally came to the face of a man who looked so much like Gandalf it was spooky - same white hair, same lined face and even the same gentle look in his eyes. This couldn't be Saruman could it?

Dawn cleared her throat and climbed hastily to her feet, suddenly very nervous and anxious to please.

"Ah, no. I wasn't laughing, I was ah...sneezing," she gave her nose a quick rub for emphasis. "I think I'm allergic to your orc."

Saruman's eyes crinkled just that tiny bit at the corners and he smiled down at her slightly. Dawn shifted her stance and tried her best to look presentable as she jolted her tied hands awkwardly. Saruman's eyes shifted down at the movement and widened in shock.

"My goodness! I apologise profusely my lady, I had no idea the Uruk-hai would go to such lengths to secure your return."

Dawn glanced down at her bound hands as he gestured off to the side for someone and found it odd that they were bound.

"Oh no," she spoke as someone took her hands in theirs and cut the rope from her wrists. Funny, they looked awfully sore. Red raw in fact and yet she felt nothing. Oh but Saruman must have felt guilty! It pained Dawn to think of the kindly old man as anything but content.

"Really, it doesn't hurt at all. Thank you."

The last was said to the person cutting her bonds and it was only when they dropped off her that she looked up to their face. What she saw caused her to recoil in horror.

"You!"

Wormtongue cringed away from her harsh voice and backed up into the darkness where Dawn could just catch the glint of the moonlight shining off his greasy hair. What was the measly little coward doing in Isengard, with Saruman of all people? It came to her then, a shadow passing the edge of her mind - 'Rohan is mine!'

"I have taken in poor Grima, Lady," Dawn turned back at his words to find an expression of utmost pity on the wizard's face. "Thrown out of his home by his own kin? The unfortunate man had no where to go; no one to turn to..."

Dawn interrupted with a shake of her head, the events at Edoras playing back loud and clear in her mind. She was now fully focused on making the kindly old wizard see sense; see that he would be harmed in the end...and she would not see him harmed. She couldn't.

"No, he's a traitor! A spy for..." She faltered then as if a piece of the puzzle she knew had fit just moments before refused to go in. "...for..."

It was Saruman himself who finished her thought.

"For me."

Dawn's brow crumpled in confusion.

"But..."

"Grima was in Edoras at my behest it's true but only so that I would be in a position to keep it's people safe."

Oh, well since he explained it like that...and yet there was still something tugging on the edge of her mind like an insistent child.

"But Gandalf said..."

"Ah yes Gandalf," Saruman sighed as if greatly tired and turned away towards the balcony in an effort to hide the pain Gandalf's mention obviously caused. Dawn frowned, instantly sorry for bringing it up but holding her tongue none the less. Something inside of her still hungered for explanation, though another part of her scolded it for wanting it at the price of another's discomfort.

"There was a time once when I would have counted him as one of my family. A son perhaps."

Looking at him then, Dawn realised just how much more care-worn and wise Saruman was compared to Gandalf and frowned slightly at the thought of Gandalf ever counting himself as his better.

"But now...he has turned from me - attacked and shunned me, I fear our friendship is almost burned out."

Dawn found herself greatly saddened at the notion of such a parting and, though Gandalf obviously didn't deserve him, she wished that the two wizards would...well, not so much kiss as make up. She screwed up her face at that one but quickly schooled it back into an expression of concern as Saruman turned back to her.

"Oh no," she tried to reassure. "If you two have known each other for as long as you say, I'm sure you can make up."

She watched as Saruman's head dipped that little bit lower at her pathetically encouraging speech and hurried on, taking no notice of what spilled out of her mouth.

"I mean...well, my sister ran away once when she killed her boyfriend and everyone at home felt really betrayed and stuff but they got over it when she came back."

Dawn looked up into Saruman's eyes helpfully and paused at the flash of...something that passed through them - almost a hunger. But as quick as it appeared, it was gone and she was left to wonder if it had ever really been there in the first place.

"Ah yes."

Dawn really didn't think she'd ever heard a more grandfatherly voice. Santa, she could bet, had nothing on this guy. And alas, she was back to leaping Legolas and Haldir of the dance. She dropped her face hurriedly, trying with all her might to beat back the smirk alighting her features.

"Tell me about your home. Tell me about your life."

Dawn looked up at his words fighting a grin and promptly felt her stomach drop into her toes. Before her stood a sharp and angled old man, the cunning and malice shining bright from his eyes. But then she blinked and he was gone, replaced once more to the concerned features of Saruman the greatest grandfather of all the grandfathers.

"My Lady?"

Dawn broke her gaze from studying his and shook her head.

"Hmm? Oh! My life..." she followed the old wizard as he led her to a couple of jagged looking chairs nearby. Dawn was convinced that she would find more comfort standing but sat anyway out of manners only to find the chairs immeasurably more comfortable than they looked. Smiling, she looked back up at her companion.

"Well, what would you like to know?"

And it went from there. He asked the questions and she answered, often getting caught up in different sections and stories of her life. He seemed immeasurably curious about the magic in her world which was understandable, him being a wizard. And not surprisingly, he had endless queries about modern mechanics and contraptions.

Finally, she came to the last year of her life and Glory and here Dawn faltered. The Key was a subject of special touchiness to her, not only because it took away virtually her entire existence, but because, as Giles said in his writing, if in the wrong hands, the power of the Key could be catastrophic. She'd never really considered herself catastrophic before reading it in those diaries with Spike. Mildly annoying or even irritating yes, but catastrophic?

"Catastrophic you say?"

Dawn looked up at the voice, mildly surprised to find the wizard still sitting across from her. Talk about daydreaming.

"Yeah. It was uber-powerful and all that, definitely something they didn't want Glory to get her paws on."

Saruman didn't even nod as he leaned forward and if Dawn hadn't known him better, she would have said his expression was eager.

"And did it say what form the Key was in?"

Dawn frowned as the answer bubbled up in her throat quite freely and clenched down on it but couldn't for the life of her think why. In answer to the wizard's question, she simply nodded and stayed silent as Saruman waited for elaboration.

"And what was it?"

Again she faltered and rolled her eyes inwardly. Why should she be so protective over such a little secret? It wasn't anything so special was it? The words once again crept up her throat and she got as far as opening her mouth before an all together different sensation halted her - a memory. Spike's face, bloody and bruised after his torture by Glory. He had known then - he had known what she was and he hadn't told. He had thought it better that he die rather than divulge the form of the Key to Glory...because he had cared.

"I'm sorry..."

The words seemed to be the hardest she had ever had to utter and yet as soon as they were spoken she felt as though a weight had been lifted from her mind. She took a deep breath as she looked up to Saruman and caught what she could have sworn was a flash of annoyance in his eye before he stood and turned from her. His voice however spoke of nothing but kindness.

"That's quite alright my dear. I think perhaps I know why you guard the secret so thoroughly."

Dawn's eyes widened.

"You do?"

Saruman spun back to her in a flurry of cloaks that made her sit back a bit in alarm before his kindly eyes settled on her again.

"Of course. There are, after all those who would utilise such a power to wicked ends."

"Like Sauron?"

The words sprang out of her mouth of their own accord, almost as if they had been planted there for that very purpose. Saruman nodded wisely.

"Yes, like him. I trust you have heard of the ring of power?"

Dawn frowned. Okay, a big no on that one. There was a ring? Her confusion must have showed on her face for Saruman's brow crumpled and he took a step toward her.

"Do you mean to say that Gandalf dragged you into this war and yet you do not know its purpose?"

Dawn felt only slightly dumb shaking her head solemnly before dropping her eyes to her lap as Saruman sighed deeply and took the seat across from her.

"Why I never thought him capable of it!" He huffed, seemingly to himself. Dawn eyed him for a moment before her curiosity got the better of her.

"Couldn't you tell me?"

Saruman paused for a moment and pondered her question in such a way it almost seemed planned before he leaned back, obviously coming to a decision.

"Yes, yes I think I shall - and I shall tell you more than most know too. You deserve that much."

Dawn leaned forward in expectation as he began.

"There was a power that existed once. A gift sent from Ilúvatar, the creator of all things, into Middle-earth. This gift was not trusted to the servants of Ilúvatar as it should have been. Instead it was trusted to the realm of men. A daughter of man to be precise. A girl not that very different from yourself."

Dawn's memory twinged a little at the words and she suddenly recalled sitting on the magic box floor with Spike, his words flowing around her like death in a morgue. Saruman continued.

"The gift was her blood and the protection her skin. Hard as dragon scales and just as impenetrable, none but she herself could spill the blood running through her veins and this was Ilúvatar's assurance that the power could never be used in malice. But his hopes were for naught. A time came when the Lord Sauron sought to solidify his Rule over his lands by forging a ring of power. In its forging he enlisted the aid of the daughter and together they created the One Ring."

Saruman paused here and sat forward as if imparting a great secret and Dawn found herself moving forward almost unconsciously herself.

"Now, this next awareness that I would seek to impart is known little in the story of the forging. The time came, in the days and months that it took to create the Ring, when the final ingredient was to be weaved into the gold..."

"The blood..." the words had passed her lips before her mind fully comprehended them and her eyes widened slightly as Saruman sat back in what appeared to be mild surprise - but Dawn thought she caught a flash of calculation in his eye before they crinkled at the edges in a proud smile.

"You are most intelligent lady. Yes, the final surety on the Ring was the addition of the Daughter's gift, and of it, she gave freely - in the knowledge that Sauron sought only to protect the boundaries of his land. But the other peoples of Middle-earth heard tale of the power of the ring and balked at the thought of it being under such control. The elves especially considered the power to be above everyone bar themselves and so sought to control it themselves."

Dawn frowned slightly as Saruman's voice became more fevered and yet more convincing at the same time. Though something in the back of her mind was reminding her - Legolas. He didn't seem the sort to seek such a power for selfish reasons...

"A war broke out in struggle to be the one to control that which was rightfully the Lord Sauron's and the world fell into darkness for a time. War raged and battles were fought until finally the ring was taken from the Dark Lord and claimed by a man; a new king by the cursed name of Isildur."

Isildur, Isildur...where had she heard that?

"He kept the ring for himself but the power of it was too much for him. It abandoned him, for it has somewhat of a mind of its own you see and passed out of knowledge for an age."

He paused, as if in emphasis.

"Until now."

Dawn leaned forward eagerly, as caught up in this tale as she often was by Spike's as she sat with him in his crypt.

"It was found?"

Saruman nodded and stood from the chair with the air of someone greatly disturbed.

"Yes, in the Shire. A land that Gandalf knows well I might add."

Dawn frowned. Did that mean Gandalf knew it was there and kept it?

"The Dark Lord has sensed its finding and struggles for its return. But I'm afraid the will of a Lord once only seeking the protection of his people has turned in malice. He has turned bitter and wrathful to those who first stole his Ring and so, I fear, would use it against them should he get it back."

Dawn stood also, following the wizard as he made his way back to the balcony. She was half surprised to find the sun already risen, obviously having done so in the midst of their conversation.

"So now who has the ring? Gandalf?"

Saruman shook his head with a mild bark of laughter.

"Oh no, I give him this much credit - he knows he cannot wield it, just as Isildur could not. It is too powerful for him."

It came to her then, the answer that seemed so simple upon introspection that it was a wonder no body else had thought it up.

"Couldn't you take it?"

Saruman seemed to think on her words for a moment, again with a perfection that donated a huge stage performance.

"Yes, I suppose I could...and yet, it would calm my heart more to wield a ring to my own image rather than that of the dark lord's. But alas, the techniques are old and worn and, even if I should succeed in the forging - the blood of the Daughter is long since spent."

Dawn's heart leaped in excitement at his words - if it was mystical blood he wanted, that she could provide - they could have this damn ring made before sunset. She grinned.

"Well I could help you out with the blood thing I think - provided it doesn't have to be the gift-thing exactly."

Saruman looked up to her almost sharply and she faltered a moment in mind though her mouth never stopped moving.

"See, I'm the Key I was telling you about and..."

The horror of what she had said hit her the moment she said the word Key and yet still she couldn't seem to stop herself until a great shudder ran through the tower under their feet. She broke off mid-explanation.

"What was that?"

She looked up and followed Saruman's gaze out across the wasteland to the circular wall at its edge. What she saw made something buried deep inside shake to the surface.

"Hey, they look just like George..."

George the Ent. George her friend. George who had been fighting an army of orcs sent under Saruman's banner. Dawn's brow crumpled in confusion and she looked back to the wizard in her company in askance only to find anything but a kindly old man. The fear was written across his cragged face with abandon and it seemed to shadow his eyes and sharpen his features almost violently.

"Saruman?"

The wizard turned at his name and Dawn almost gasped at the crazed and fearful expression on his face. Then his eyes alit on her and something else filtered into his gaze. A hunger almost seemed to leap out of his features and before Dawn knew it he had a tearing hold of her hair and was yanking her sharply back into the tower.

"Tell me!"

Dawn cried out a he dragged her around to face him, digging suddenly sharp and grating fingers into her chin as he forced her to look upon him.

"Tell me how to use you!"

It was in that moment that Dawn saw her mistake. Saruman the Wise her arse - she had been had bigger than the Kyser Sozay mess in The Usual Suspects. Feeling every muscle in her shake with an anger that almost seemed to refresh her now that she had her own thoughts back she screwed up her face and proceeded to spit in Saruman's. The malice in his once kindly eyes seemed to step up a bar at the action and Dawn cried out again as she was thrown to the floor. She barely had time to look up before the wizard was on her and when she did she wished she hadn't. His eyes caught hers and held them, his hands on either side of her face as he bored into her mind.

And Dawn screamed.


	15. Rescue Parties and Evil Orbs

The trees around the group hummed with satisfaction. Haldir had recognised the emotion not long after he had first passed under the branches. Satisfaction of what he couldn't know, though he had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with the billows of steam rising from the ring of Isengard he and his kin had spied not two days ago. The forest had a fresh feel to it, as if it were new-born though the trees themselves could undoubtedly give even him a run for his money in the age department. It was almost as if the trees had up and moved just recently and the excitement of the travel was still being sung. An exchanged glance with Legolas told him that his kinsman was sensing the same things as he. 

They came upon the gates of Isengard so suddenly Haldir had to blink to make sure he was seeing right. When it appeared he was he found himself gaping along with everyone else. Isengard was in ruins. Ruins of ruins. Steam had obviously just been the beginning

"Welcome!"

The hail came from the crumbling ruin of what had once obviously been a section of the impenetrable ring of Isengard. At the sight of the hailer, Haldir found himself blinking again. A Hobbit swayed only half steady on the pile of rubble, in one hand a piece of bread and in the other a smoking pipe as he continued his announcement.

"...my Lords, to Isengard..."

The last was said with an unsteady swing of an arm towards what had once obviously been a flourishing machine of evil. Haldir felt his lips twitch upward slightly at the purely innocent looks upon the Hobbit's faces as the Dwarf Legolas suffered to ride with him scolded them.

"Well well well," a voice rustled to his right.

Haldir turned away from the reunion at the head of the group to look up to George who had just stepped up beside his horse. Haldir truly would never have believed in the existence of George had he not met him himself. As it was, even Haldir, as serious as he was, found it hard not to find the Ent's humour infectious.

"If this in't just a family reunion waitin' to happen."

Sure enough, as Haldir followed the tree-herder's gaze, he was met with the sight of many of the tree herder's brethren. They were scattered throughout the ruins of Isengard, standing still and tall and yet still unmistakable for what they were. The Ents had come hack to Isengard, and they obviously hadn't liked the way it had been kept. Haldir turned his eyes back upward to the Ent at his side just in time to catch George's sigh of foreboding and he frowned.

"You wish not to be again with those of your kin?"

George shook his great leaved head and Haldir had to duck to avoid a stray bird's nest that flew out of it.

"It ain't so much that I don' wanna see them as them not bein' so keen to see me hon."

Haldir's confusion must have showed on his face for, after a glance down at him, George elaborated.

"They think I'm too 'Hasty'," he explained, extra emphasis and a whole dollop of bitterness going into the word 'hasty'. He shook his head once more and Haldir wasn't quick enough this time as a bird collided with his face, chattered at him in annoyance a moment and then flew off, no doubt to find her wayward nest. It was then that the group began to move and Haldir looked up to see that the two Hobbit's were perched securely now, one behind Aragorn and the other with Eomer and both not looking too happy anymore - no doubt they had been told of the Lady Dawn's situation. As one the group entered the hell that had once held tranquil gardens and Haldir took a breath. Time to face the Wizard.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Legolas found the knot in his chest gradually tightening every step closer they took to the tower. The worry that had been gnawing at his heart since his learning of the Lady Dawn's predicament had travelled lower and was currently munching quite happily on something in his gut. Merry and Pippin had been distraught at the news that their once fellow-captive had fallen into the hands of Saruman. Their guilt at their ignorance was enough to drop the temperature of the air a few degrees and the resolution on their faces when the group had talked of her rescue spoke for itself.

And so it was that a party of five men, two elves, two Hobbits, a dwarf, an Ent and a wizard made their way slowly through the receding floods of the river Isen to the Tower of Saruman. Legolas eyed the height of the structure as they drew near, a thread of steel joining the worry in his mind as he took in the dark viciousness of the tower and vowed that it would crumble if it meant Dawn would be safe. If he had thought on it, the determination that had taken him would have been revealed as the alien entity it was. It was rare that such unbridled passion would take one of the race of elves, him most of all - Legolas prided himself on his aloofness and yet found his cool calm slipping as he looked upon the Wizards tower and contemplated the possibility of the Lady being hurt.

All around them debris floated and decayed in the recently freed waters of the river and every now and then a horse shied away from the floating corpse of a nameless orc. It was in this manner that the group finally reached the base of the tower and was greeted by an Ent, this one larger and more careworn than George. When it spoke, Legolas was forced to raise a mental eyebrow at the slowness of its speech.

"Well, well...broor-ah-room...this is a sight; men and elves, dwarves and Halflings - and one of my own kin...mmm..."

Legolas caught the sight of George giving his fellow Ent a stoic wave as an obviously fake smile plastered itself across his face.

"Hi'ya Beardy, how goes it?"

The larger Ent's face seemed to grow a little more crusty at George's greeting.

"Hasty as ever master George, most un..." he took a great breath. "...natural."

Legolas watched as George rolled his eyes and for a moment was caught up in the fascination of the gesture - an Ent rolling its eyes was something to behold - before he turned his attention back to Gandalf and the larger Ent, whose name, he soon found out, was Treebeard. Despite the importance of the conversation, he found himself unable to focus upon it, instead, his eyes kept straying upwards, to the barely there balcony, a little under an arrow's shot above their heads. His eyes saw nothing and yet somehow he knew. She was in there. Finally Gandalf spoke the words he had been waiting to hear.

"I would leave him Treebeard, my old friend, under your watch but alas, he has taken something of great import to us," at this Legolas saw the wizards eyes also flicker up to the balcony. "A young lady, of the race of man. She would have come as the captive of a band of Uruk-hai."

Legolas unconsciously gripped the reins in his hand, twisting them torturously as Treebeard seemed to ponder the statement.

"No orcs have come nor gone on the watch of the Ents my friends. If they came, it was before the flooding."

Gandalf nodded.

"That's what I had thought."

"That means she's been with him for three days!"

Pippin's voice was fraught with worry though Legolas hardly noticed - something in him had begun to boil ever so slightly.

"Call him out."

His voice only just broke the title of whisper and was loaded with enough malice to feed the flames of Sauron for a decade or two. Not many caught his words but Aragorn who shot him a sharp look and Gimli behind him who roared his dwarvish approval.

"Yes! Let us see how thick a Wizard's skull really is!" He hefted his axe for emphasis.

Legolas looked up at Gandalf to find a most peculiar look upon the Wizards face as he looked back before he turned to Gimli.

"Patience master Dwarf, we shall call him out but it won't be to provide you with fodder for your axe. Saruman is as dangerous as he is cunning, and I suggest you all keep your guard."

"Oh Gandalf my old friend..."

Every head whipped up at the entrance of the new voice and Legolas' eyes narrowed dangerously.

"You do embellish so."

Saruman smiled down at them.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Her head hurt. That was all that was really registering at that particular moment. If she didn't know any better she'd say she'd gone to sleep with a rail-way line as a pillow - but how long ago? The seconds blended into each other quite happily around her right now so she didn't really want to know what sort of debauchery the days were engaging in. Had it been days? It was kinda hard to tell what with being locked in a tower and all. Had she slept? Again, difficult to discern. Did unconsciousness count as sleep? If so she was definitely being more than a little lazy lately...bad her. It was getting a little ridiculous now that she really thought about it, how much time she spent knocked out and held against her will.

Her will.

He'd played her; oh how he'd played her. All Santa Claus and his merry little Wormtongue. Evil bastard. When she got her hands...oh hey, she could feel her hands, that was new. Granted they were all pins and needles but that wasn't the point. If she concentrated real hard she could even flex her fingers and...oh! She had whole arms now! And her legs were coming back to her. Wow, if this kept up she may even re-gain consciousness - now that would be a feat.

She stifled a groan and her heart leaped for joy. If she could moan she was well on the way to opening her eyes - things were looking up...or rather, down, she realised when she succeeded in prying her eyelids apart. It took a moment for her to even register that she was, in fact, awake and that the darkness greeting her eyes was the obsidian floor of Saruman's equivalent to a study rather than the back of her eyelids. Caution slipped into her movement easily, whether because her mind was on the defensive or because it hurt too much to move fast she couldn't tell but her strategic half- roll, half-fall onto her side was one of immense stealth...or it would have been had she not collided with a foot and yelped.

She turned wide eyes up to the owner of the foot and froze up sufficiently at the sight of Wormtongue's pigment-less eyes studying her. He was seated on the chair she herself had claimed not days (days?) before and seemed to be slumped in desolation as his eyes moved in patterns over her body. He seemed neither surprised nor worried that she was awake but just continued to stare, making Dawn shiver in revulsion anywhere his eyes gazed.

"Your skin is so pale - like hers."

His voice slid through the silence rather than breaking it - it merged with it - poisoned it from the inside. Dawn felt like being sick just at the sound of it.

"She was pure; pure and cold..." he stood, making his way to a gungy window above the desk piled with scrolls and papers. "That's how I knew we should be together you see."

Dawn followed him with her eyes, caution in her every flicker of movement as she attempted to sit up. He turned back to her and Dawn halted again, though he hardly noticed.

"She was pure enough not to be tainted by the likes of me and in the darkness we could flourish - in the cold...together."

The last was said as a whisper as he turned from her once more and Dawn winced as she pulled herself fully into an upright position and scanned her surroundings for something, anything, to help get her out of this mess. Wormtongue didn't seem to notice as he continued.

"She's mine you see and I am hers..."

Dawn didn't even want to think what poor girl deserved the love of this particular creature and couldn't help the slight wrinkling of her nose, even as she spied what she had been looking for. It was a branch, old and gnarled and completely out of place in the tower of a guy like Saruman. Long and relatively straight, it almost had the look of a staff but for the twisting of wooden curls at the top - almost like a root system on a tree. It seemed old, and somehow valuable but Dawn didn't much care right then, in her mind she was sizing it up as a weapon as she reached carefully for it. It was then that a whisper of a name passed Wormtongue's lips and there was no mistaking the longing poured into every syllable - this was his mystery lady...not such a mystery to Dawn anymore. The staff forgotten she looked up to Wormtongue incredulously.

"Eowyn? You're in love with Eowyn? Oh is that gross beyond comprehension!"

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew that it was probably not a very good idea to antagonise her kidnapper but Dawn couldn't seem to help the words from bursting forth. Him and Eowyn? Her mind was awash in a sea of roughage. Eww, didn't even begin to cover it. Unfortunately, Wormtongue had different thoughts.

"You know nothing of our love!"

It was said with a growl and a lunge and quite soon, Dawn found herself hanging half off the floor by the front of her slip, glaring into the crazed eyes of one seriously demented minion. She rolled her eyes.

"Oh please! Your love? Your obsession more like. Eowyn wouldn't touch you with a ten foot pole and you know it you disgusting little dick face."

There are many signs that will tell you when you have gone too far with an insulting comment. Being thrown across the room into a stack of books is one of the top ten. Dawn landed with a grunt as the wind was knocked out of her and a hail of books fell around her but was quick enough to look up and see Wormtongue advancing with an uglier than usual look on his face. Screaming inwardly for her muscles to do what they were told, she grabbed the first thing that came to hand and hurled it at her attacker. The Encyclopaedia of Balrog Fungus' hit Wormtongue square in the face and he staggered back a bit, giving Dawn enough time to dive, quite painfully, toward the staff. She was on her feet and ready for his next charge, swinging the staff in a wide arc that would have made Tiger Woods proud.

"Fore!"

The staff cracked Wormtongue under the chin, lifting him from the floor and sending him sailing across the room into a stack of bookshelves that promptly collapsed under his weight. Very soon, the Rohan betrayer was buried beneath over two hundred years worth of collected Literature and Dawn panted, resting on the staff a moment before she bolted from the room - there was no way anyone in the tower could have missed that racket.

------------------------------------------------------------------

"Oh yes, the Lady is quite well."

The formerly-white wizard smiled down benevolently at the congregation and Aragorn watched somewhat distractedly as many in the group shifted slightly, uncertainty in their stance. But then why shouldn't they be uncertain, even guilty that they were accusing the obviously innocent Wizard of these heinous acts? Aragorn heard the thoughts in his head and frowned at their unfamiliar presence - Gandalf had obviously been right to warn them of the Voice of Saruman. Steeling his mind, he glared back up at the balcony. Saruman never faltered.

"She actually asked that I return a few things that she would not be needing."

A package was lifted to the rail and something that glinted in the sun was removed from it. Beside him, Legolas caught his breath and, after a good squint, Aragorn understood why. The elf's long knife shone like a beacon in the sun as Saruman turned it in his hand before, quite suddenly, a crash split the silence above. Aragorn watched, along with everyone else as the white wizard faltered for a moment and looked over his shoulder, a clearly visible frown marring his innocent facade. He'd taken a step back before he turned back to them, a smile back in place as he set the long-knife down on the balcony railing.

"If you will excuse me a moment my Lords, there is something I need to attend to."

And with that he was gone, disappearing back into his tower and leaving his 'visitors' to stew in their worry.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Dawn darted like she'd never darted before, the movement made even more effective for the fact that she was in a strange tower with no idea what so ever of where she was going. Flattening her back to a wall as uniform and dark as every single other wall in the god-forsaken maze she found herself in, she took a deep breath of air before peering around a corner.

Oh joy, another windowless room.

Dawn almost rolled her eyes before she caught sight of what was in it. It was simple and round; it's very appearance denoting unimportance but for it's placing. It sat on a pedestal in the middle of the otherwise bare room, seeming to eat up the darkness around it and reflect it back out to its viewer. It shouldn't have caught her attention; shouldn't have made her pause in her escape and enter the room - after all, she'd seen numerous crystal balls and other such objects in the magic box. For a moment the image of Saruman dressed as a gypsy and harping about her 'prince on the white horse' gave her lips something to tweak about but something about the object told her that the mystery sphere was more than just a crystal ball.

Walking with a stealth much used and abused she entered the room, her eyes never leaving the orb on its pedestal. That in itself should have tipped her off - anything that could hold your focus like this was either trying to tell you something important or about to attempt to eat you one brain cell at a time - Dawn had a sneaking suspicion that anything kept in this particular tower was likely to fall into the later category.

It gleamed, Dawn noticed. Despite its habit for sucking up all light surrounding it something inside it seemed to glimmer and shift, as though a hoard of little fairies were taking up residence inside. But then, this was a different dimension. Who was she to say there wasn't? She really wouldn't put it past old whiter-than-thou to kidnap fairies and hold them captive.

Her thoughts had wondered, perhaps more than was usual and Dawn was half shocked to find that, when she focused back on her surroundings, she had made her way all the way to the pedestal. Looking down to her centre of attention, she noticed that there was definitely an inner light to the globe - something that should come into focus if she just...but something inside of her told her that she shouldn't be wanting to do that. As powerful as her curiosity, the little voice was adamant and Dawn frowned darkly as the hand that had unconsciously come up to touch the ball faltered and jerked away, almost as though someone else had yanked it.

This was ridiculous, it was just a decorative orb thing...but somehow she knew that wasn't true. An image came to her, as if from a dream - filled with fire and loathing. No she really didn't want to be meeting whoever was in the orb. Before she could really contemplate her knowledge that there was someone in the sphere, a growl sounded suddenly from behind her and she spun away from the pedestal with a broken gasp.

If Saruman's trickery had been kindly and wise, this new and improved version was the complete polar opposite. His stance was slightly bent, as though the twisting of his mind had sought for some physical manifestation and partly succeeded. His hands were clawed at his side and his mouth skewed into a sneer that would have made Cordelia proud. But of all of this, the thing she noticed most was his eyes. Black and glittery, they glared at her with malice and contempt…but something else too. Dawn caught it when, just for a second, his gaze flicked to the orb before burning back to her - there was fear in his eyes. Some part of her rejoiced in the revelation - let the evil bastard fear - but then the rational part of her mind was reminding her that when the evil people feared something, it was a good idea to run away with haste.

"What are you doing?"

He stormed into the room quite suddenly and Dawn scrambled backwards, putting the pedestal and the orb between herself and the raging wizard.

"What have you done?"

Oh yeah, he was big up on the fear factor here. Unfortunately for her, he was about as rational as her sister when she got scared - a very 'violence now, questions later' outlook. Dawn looked around herself frantically for something to use as a weapon against the insane wizard charging in a bat-like fashion toward her but the room was empty of everything. Everything but…

Saruman snarled and Dawn grabbed the crystal ball of doom unthinkingly, hefting it to bash the rabid old man's brains out should he present a suitable target. She never got the chance however as Saruman froze mid-step and his face went slack with horror at what she had done.

"No, put it down."

The worry and fear in his tone was almost a physical presence and Dawn paused for a moment at finding herself in such a sudden role reversal. What the hell was this crystal ball thing? Giving her head a mental shake she pushed the question to the back of her mind. First thing's first.

"Move away from the door."

Saruman's eyes widened only slightly but Dawn caught it and hefted the ball in her hand.

"You want me to use this thing?" Saruman seemed to quiver slightly and he shook his head emphatically. "Then get out of the frigging way!"

He moved without once looking away from her or her movements with the orb. Dawn found it all rather creepy but kept an eye on him in much the same way as she edged her way toward the door. She was actually getting rather good at bluffing she had noticed. Her knowing how to use the orb was rather far fetched in any dimension really. She knew from experience that even if you knew how to use something didn't mean you could and she didn't even know that much with this thing. But Saruman seemed to be buying it, if his distance was any indication.

Dawn almost breathed a sigh of relief as she backed into the hallway but refrained as Saruman followed like some kind of evil watchdog.

"You will not leave this tower alive my Lady."

His voice was like sickly honey and it sent a shiver down her spine as she backed down the darkened hall.

"We'll see about that shall we. And don't call me your lady - in no way shape or form am I yours."

The last was practically spat back at the Wizard as she looked over her shoulder - walking backwards really did nothing for your directional skills - she could have very well been going in circles and she wouldn't have realised. The slight chuckle from in front of her startled her and she turned her gaze back to Saruman with a frown.

"Ah yes, I suppose you think yourself his don't you? Such romantic creature's elves are in the eyes of man. I had forgotten."

Dawn almost faltered at the turn the conversation had taken. Elves? Romance? What in the hell had he been smoking.

"I know your mind." The wizard tapped maliciously at his temple in illustration. "And I will let you in on a little secret my lady." Dawn ground her teeth. "Something dear Gandalf imparted when last we spoke. The Dark Lord does not share power."

Dawn sneered. Power her arse. She wasn't a part of this.

"What does that have to do with me?"

She hardly noticed as the walls of the hall suddenly disappeared and she began backing through a high-roofed room dappled with morning sun, so intense was her watch on the Wizard stalking her. Saruman's smile was every bit the sinister.

"Because you girl, are the power."

Dawn faltered and stopped, her eyes widening in surprise and confusion.

That's when the growling started. She barely even had time to turn. Saruman yelled out as she and Wormtongue, who had obviously regained consciousness, hit the floor and she lost hold of the orb. The dark sphere rolled swiftly across the floor and Dawn watched, somewhat distracted by her attacker, as Saruman scrambled after it. It was the most ungraceful she had ever seen the Wizard move and, as she soon witnessed, the most ineffective. The orb disappeared over the edge of the balcony she just noticed was jutting out of the right wall of the room, the ball only just fitting through a gap in the obsidian railing. Dawn felt a slight zip of satisfaction at the cry of despair that ripped from Saruman's lips before suddenly her shoulder exploded with pain. It was halfway through her scream that she realised what had happened.

He'd bitten her! The slimy son of a bitch had bitten her in the shoulder! Thing's just didn't get grosser than that - she almost groaned when she realised just how high the chances of the greasy mess having rabies actually were. Just as suddenly as teeth had acquired a place in her arm they were removed, along with the person they belonged to. Dawn blinked for a moment before she looked up and saw Saruman ripping into Wormtongue for his apparent stupidity. Not his stupidity at biting her, oh no, Mr. High and mighty was pissed about his precious little ball of evilness. Dawn rolled her eyes before using the same motion with the rest of her body, craning her neck so she could see the balcony. Clear sky winked back at her and she squinted for a moment before she suddenly froze at the voices floating in from outside the tower. It sounded like...but it couldn't be.

None the less, she dragged herself to her feet and bolted for the open balcony, figuring that was her best chance just then, even if there wasn't an entourage at the front door waiting to rescue her...like the one standing down amongst the ruins of the evilest empire of all the empires.

"Lady Dawn!"

It was Aragorn and Gandalf and Haldir...and Legolas and Legolas...and Legolas - her eyes seemed to become stuck on the blonde elf and for a moment Dawn just blinked down at the group in surprise before a scrambling behind her got her attention. She turned just in time to duck a grab from Saruman and her hand hit something cloth-covered off the railing. She heard the feint splash as it landed below but not much else as the crazed wizard made another grab for her. She twisted away to the left, but not fast enough as his clawed hand found purchase in her hair and her head was yanked back. An involuntary cry of pain tore from her mouth and her arms flayed before her hand once again knocked against an object on the rail - but this one wasn't covered.

She felt her hand slice open on the cool steel but didn't take much notice in favour of realising that there was a weapon within reach. Grabbing for the section of the knife that felt as though it should be the handle she swung it upwards at her attacker, but again he was too quick. For an old fogy, Saruman was proving annoyingly fast in a scuffle. He caught the wrist with the knife in a crushing grip before manoeuvring his bone-riddled fingers into prying it from her grip. Dawn cried out when she lost grip of it and suddenly found the tables decidedly in Saruman's favour.

She didn't need to see the old coot's face to know the gleam of crazed triumph was running rampant in those creepy black eyes as he raised the knife. It was then that she recognised it - Legolas' long knife - the one he had given her as protection. Rather ironic that it was going to be the blade that killed her. It really was a beautiful weapon though, even in the hand of someone like Saruman. The sunlight gleamed off its surface with seeming delight, the yellow of the feathered arrow reflecting merrily from its polished surface.

Hold up.

Saruman screamed and dropped the knife as blood splattered to the ground - his blood. An arrow through the hand would do that. The Wizard jerked backwards, swinging her around as if to drag her back inside and Dawn's eyes widened. Oh no way in hell was she going back in there. Using the momentum of his swing, she leaned back and clawed at his hand gripping her hair, tearing her scalp somewhat, but successfully loosening his grip. With one final heave, she was free, with a stinging head but stumbling backwards from the Wizard - a good direction for her - well, it was until she backed right into the balcony railing and toppled over it.


	16. Puddles and Presences

In that moment, a lot of things happened in a very short space of time – though it didn't feel that way to Legolas. From the moment he'd seen Saruman gain a grip on his long-knife his vision seemed to have sunk into a very hazy, very slow world. Things like his letting loose an arrow happened while he was sitting on the sideline of his brain. As Dawn fell she seemed to slow to the point it was ludicrous. His mind was noticing everything in true torturous detail. It seemed to know he'd be playing this moment over and over in his head at a later date and didn't want to miss anything. 

He didn't know if he cried out with everyone else. He just knew there was nothing…nothing he could do. Something inside of him twisted in a jagged sort of way as the realisation hit him that Dawn was falling again and he had no way to save her.

No…

Sound came back to him then and with it came Dawn's scream. And then something else. Legolas suddenly found himself drenched to the bone as George splashed past him.

Three things happened then, in rather quick succession. Legolas' heart leapt mightily into his throat and proceeded to squeeze the stuffing out of his tonsils, his stomach dropped to his knees and did the same with his joints there and George caught Dawn in a rather spectacular fashion involving a lot of strategic bending that Legolas was sure he was never going to be able to recall in the future no matter how hard his brain was memorising.

Where horrified cries had filled the air before, silence now prevailed as everyone held their breath in preparation for George lowering his extended hand. Anticipation was high - whether to see a rather large Dawn-shaped puddle in the Ent's hand or a whole girl, no one could really be sure. It wasn't until a small hand came into view holding a slightly dishevelled, though clearly alive and coherent head that a collective rush of sighing air broke the silence. Dawn groaned.

"Holy mother f..."

------------------------------------------------------------------

Dawn caught herself a millisecond before cussing in front of the locals and looked up rather sheepishly, her head still spinning a mile a second.

"...udger," she grumbled in substitution and proceeded to groan once more as George tipped his hand slightly and she stumbled into a standing position in front of the congregation...well, she would have, if her knees had been working. As it was, she ended up imitating the Dawn-shaped puddle she was fully expecting to become not five seconds before and sat down rather sloppily on the already wet ground.

"Dawn, child, are you alright?"

Gandalf, the damn wizard was calling her a child. She should get angry at that, it was in her teen-handbook...she'd definitely get right on that, just as soon as she worked out why the daft old man was standing upside down.

"I'm f-fine...I just need to sit down..."

"You are sitting down my Lady."

Dawn raised a mental eyebrow at herself. She was?

"Oh...good for me..."

The shadows shifted around her and another voice joined the mix.

"Would you like some water my lady?"

Dawn frowned. Why? She was sitting in a whole frickin' lake of it. She shook her head to the negative, finding that the action didn't make her puke like she thought it was going to. Always a good sign, that not puking.

"Is she okay?"

One more wrinkle of confusion joined its brothers and sisters on her forehead until the distinctly accented voice found a mug shot to file itself under and realisation dawned in her mind.

"Merry!"

It was as though his name made him appear and no sooner had the hobbit broken into a delighted smile, he found himself wrapped up in battle-ridden and very damp teen. He didn't seem to mind though as he hugged the sodden girl back and the two of them laughed with relief.

"Ye okay!"

Dawn turned her head slightly, but not fast enough as a second hobbit canon-balled into her side, hugging her for all she was worth. She only seemed to be able to laugh harder as she found herself in a decidedly naughty sounding (when described) Hobbit sandwich.

"Now, now - let us give the dear girl some space to breathe young hobbits."

Dawn almost wanted to protest when the two Halflings pulled away but their matching ear-to-ear grins kept her heart just warm enough to still the whine at her lips. Looking around with a quickly un-blurring gaze, she found many familiar faces. Gandalf was gazing down at her with a warmly relieved smile while Aragorn converged on her other side.

"How are you feeling my lady? Are you hurt at all?"

The ranger's manner was all doctor and Dawn shook her head earnestly in accordance with etiquette as his eyes flickered over her for signs of injury.

"No, no I think I'm okay..."

She kept up her survey of the surrounding audience, coming across the familiar countenances of Gimli, George and to her surprise, Haldir – she would have thought he would have headed back to his home when the battle was over...she assumed it was over. She caught Haldir's eye and the elf inclined his head slightly at her in assurance. She felt a great swell of gratitude for the warrior in that moment until her eyes shifted to the person next to him and said swell turned into something less swelly and more throbby and shifted from her chest area down to just below her belly button.

She couldn't, for the life of her, have told you what Legolas was wearing in that moment as her eyes caught immediately in his and stuck. She found herself wondering just when exactly his eyes had gotten that brilliantly dark shade of blue?

A sharp pain yanked her mind back to her surrounds and she hissed, breaking eye contact with the elf and turning her attention to the stinging in her hand that she had just pulled out of Aragorn's grasp.

"I'm sorry...that wound will need dressing."

Dawn nodded, though kept the smarting appendage out of the rangers reach still as she shifted on the sodden ground. Gandalf seemed to notice her discomfort.

"Perhaps, if you feel up to standing my lady, we could move you off of this rather offensive ground."

Dawn nodded slightly to the suggestion and suddenly found herself flanked on either side by Legolas and Aragorn as they easily lifted her onto her feet. She almost snorted. Standing be damned, why didn't the two of them just carry her to higher ground? She re-thought verbalising the joke however because, one glance as Legolas' face had her thinking that the elf might just take her up on that suggestion, and she really didn't feel like validating that particular womanising stereotype just yet.

"You will be riding with me my lady, if, of course, you hold no qualms?"

Dawn frowned slightly and looked over at Gandalf, unable to place the niggling annoyance in the back of her mind at the suggestion.

"What about Saruman?"

Surely they were going to deal with the white wizard. He was much too powerful to be simply ignored. Gandalf paused a moment and glanced back up to the forbidding tower with the air of one walking away from a troublesome summer retreat.

"Saruman is caged and powerless. There is little else that can be done with such a pitiful creature but let it be."

A fire suddenly sparked in an off-the-beaten-track section of Dawn's mind at Gandalf's words. Pitiful? Powerless? Gandalf the White indeed! If the cracked old bag of orc-fodder had the nerve to walk away from an adversary so powerful...

Dawn suddenly found herself watching, as if from a window, as her body growled and twisted out of Aragorn's grip, her hand reaching and finding purchase on Legolas' remaining long-knife, strapped in a holder at his back. The ring of steel exposed to clear air rang out and she watched as she lunged at Gandalf's back, knowing she didn't want to plunge the blade into the old wizard's back but at the same time knowing that that was just what she was going to do. She watched as Aragorn cried out and, at the last possible moment, Gandalf spun around and knocked, what would have been her killing blow, aside.

A frustration welled up inside of her and she heard, as if from far away, herself scream in anger before someone grabbed her arm. This contact, however, was significant to her because, unlike when Gandalf had hit her, she felt as though she herself was really being grabbed rather than some cotton wool version of herself taking the feeling and relaying it back to her. A part of her was confused - another part, relieved...then of course there was that part that just seemed to want to kill everything. Apparently, as she was fast coming to learn, this was the part in charge of her body at the moment.

She spun around with a feral cry and sliced out with the stolen knife, a whole chunk of her uncaring as to who she hit as long as the person let go – but then there was that section of remaining self. This section flinched right along with Legolas as his arm sliced open just above the wrist, splitting his tunic and staining it rapidly with blood from the resulting wound underneath.

But he didn't let go.

Part of her cheered as her body cried out in frustration and attempted to claw the hold off her arm, subsequently loosing hold on the knife in the process. The weapon splashed to the ground as she gave up clawing and reached up to use the gash on the elf's arm as incentive to let go. But it was as her hand made contact with the bloodied wound on Legolas' forearm that something quite unexpected took place, and the cotton-wool monster that had taken over her body realised it's mistake too late.

The connection sprang up between the part of herself that was still Dawn and the elf called Legolas as their blood mingled, his from his arm and hers from the hand cut by Saruman up on the balcony.

Dawn suddenly found herself pulled forward, as if out of spider webs built up over a millennia and she gasped for air before she blinked a little blearily – or she thought she blinked - it was so dark she really couldn't tell.

"Lady Dawn?"

Dawn snapped her head from side to side - or again, she assumed she did - as the voice ricocheted around the void she found herself in.

"Legolas? Where are you?"

"I do not know...I cannot see..."

"Me neither...Think there's a light switch around here someplace?"

"A what?"

Dawn sighed.

"Never mind."

A shiver suddenly passed down her spine followed by a hand down her arm which she was just coming to realise was bare. Yelping, she leaped back.

"Oh please tell me that was you..."

"What was me my lady?"

"Oh God Oh God Oh God Oh God Oh God..."

Terror constricted her throat almost to suffocation point as she sensed the presence circling her. He was here. Who he was, Dawn didn't really have the faintest though she had more than enough clues to make an educated guess.

"My Dear Lady..."

It was said as barely a whisper and yet there was no mistaking the velvet voice for what it was - guessing was proving more correct than her teachers would have her believe.

"Legolas..."

Her voice sounded shrill even to her own ears.

"There is someone else here."

Dawn could have rolled her eyes, but she was beginning to think that that wasn't really possible in the situation they were in.

"No kidding...can you...can you just keep talking. I-I need to find you okay..."

Oh boy did she need to find him.

"What would you have me talk about?"

Dawn could have hit his upside the head.

"I don't know! Anything! Tell me about your home."

And he did. He started off rather stilted at first until he found a rhythm - then Dawn discovered just why Pippin had once described Legolas as 'terribly skilled at observation'. He described trees in terms of lifetimes and buildings in terms of the way light danced on their walls at different times of the day. It was all rather poetic and Dawn was becoming quite sure she could have listened to his voice forever in such a manner...well, minus the forbidding, uber-wiggy wizard presence stalking her through the darkness of her mind of course.

Legolas was part way through his description of his favourite climbing tree as a boy when she felt something breathe harshly on the back of her neck, sending a jolt down her spine and terror into her throat. She screamed then and leaped forward, jolting for a moment into a solid presence that had obviously claimed the space prior to her terror-filled-hernia. It was only as Legolas' voice cut off in an 'oof' sound that she realised who it was, but by then the two of them were falling...and was it just her or was everything getting brighter?

They landed with a sloppy squish on the water-sodden ground and for a moment they simply laid there, Dawn spread-eagled on top of Legolas in a very familiar position. Then everything was movement at once. Dawn was yanked to her feet and her arm twisted painfully up behind her until she feared her shoulder was going to pop out of its socket as angry and shocked exclamations resounded from all.

"Hold her!"

"Dawn!"

"Legolas!"

"Wait wait!"

The last was from Legolas himself as he scrambled to his feet and faced off with whoever had her arm pinned in such a sucky position.

"She is calmed! She is calmed!"

The person holding her was obviously sceptical because the grip on her arm didn't let up any until Gandalf suddenly appeared in front of the two of them.

"Release her Eomer."

A fraction of hesitation passed before she was released with a grunt from whoever was behind her. Dawn turned to find out and was met with a chest, a good way above that was a very scowly head that was obviously big up into the hair thing. Dawn rubbed her shoulder as he glared down at her suspiciously. She couldn't help the sarcasm.

"Nice to meet you too."

"Dawn."

It was said quite forcefully and obviously meant as a reprimand and though the teen in Dawn rebelled quite forcefully, she lowered her head obligingly and turned back to Gandalf who was looking at her in much the way he'd just spoken.

"Look at me."

It was a command, not a request and Dawn felt herself obeying before she even thought about it. It seemed an age before the wizard stopped studying her eyes and sighed.

"Her mind is her own..."

Dawn's eyes narrowed at the suspicious way the wizard trailed off before she opened her mouth to enquire but Gandalf obviously caught the questions in her eyes.

"Questions later I think...for everyone. For now, let us be off. I can feel the stink of Isengard giving me a headache."


	17. Festivities

"Are we there yet?" 

"No my lady."

"Are we there yet?"

"No my lady..."

"Are we there yet?"

"No my lady..."

"Are we-"

"Oh for the grace of the Valar!"

Gandalf pulled Shadowfax up short - quite a feat when one didn't have any reigns - and practically growled down at the girl in front of him.

"I am coming to think your disposition more agreeable when you were attempting to stab me!"

Dawn huffed and swung a leg over Shadowfax's neck before sliding off the horses back to land rather ungracefully on the dry grass they had been trotting over for the past few days. Thanking whoever was up there that she at least managed to stay on her feet she turned her sights back on the wizard and crossed her arms petulantly in front of her. She was suddenly the very picture of a stubborn three year old.

"Well what do you expect! I've been kidnapped by orcs, brain-poked by a wizard, dunked in a pool of orc stew, you-" she pointed menacingly up at Gandalf at this, "-won't even tell me a god-damn thing about why and, on top of it all..." She took a great breath as she prepared to deliver the final blow, "Do you have any idea how long it's been since I washed my hair? Since I bathed at all? I smell like something a yeti would throw up!"

All eyes were on her as she huffed and puffed in the centre of a ring of horses and their riders. Silence reigned. Then Gimli turned to Aragorn.

"Are all women of your species like this?"

Dawn's growl seemed to ricochet around the clearing as she spun on her heel and stormed off toward the latest in a series of rises they had been traversing for the better part of three days - such was the landscape of Rohan.

Aragorn rode up beside Gandalf, the wizard still sitting stewing on Shadowfax. Try as he might, the ranger couldn't seem to keep the amused twitch from the corner of his mouth. He had never before seen anyone able to get under Gandalf's skin like the lady Dawn could – in fact he'd never seen anyone so adept at getting under skin full stop.

"A fortunate fact that Edoras is just over that rise."

Gandalf turned and fixed his sights on him, obviously catching the amusement in his voice and Aragorn couldn't hide his smirk in time.

"You think this funny," Gandalf accused and Aragorn gave up and grinned at him as he dismounted and began to lead his horse after the lady Dawn.

"Oh, unendingly so."

Gandalf turned his eyes back to the girl, striding for all she could away from them and felt the weight of her presence settle more firmly in his mind than ever before. At times like this she was such the innocent...an annoying and infuriating innocent but an innocent none the less. It was difficult to believe her the wielder of a power the Valar themselves had once struggled to control.

Ah yes, he knew the nature of the girl, how could he not? Memories of the ages, he had found, were his now - some of them joyful and some of them not. It had taken some time to recover and organise the record he now held in his mind and even then he hadn't really made the connection; the connection between a girl who wasn't a girl and the girl named for a sunrise now striding away from him with the hearts of so many of Middle Earth in her pocket.

Gandalf found himself smiling slightly then.

It was amazing how true his thinking was at times – the girl did have a hold over those that met her; a hold to which even he himself was not immune. Indeed it was a rarity to see Aragorn so taken with someone so little known and Merry and Pippin were nothing if not blatant in their adoration of the girl - he had borne witness to that the past nights when the group had made camp. Even Gimli, who had started off hating the girl, was now often seen sharing an amusing comment with the lady. The Ent, George, also was almost frightening in his devotion to the girl: Gandalf readily recalled the Tree- herder's reaction to the news his charge had been taken by Saruman – he doubted that particular section of the Deeping wall would ever be able to be repaired.

Even new acquaintances were proving no match for the girl's seemingly infectious likeability. He had spied Eomer of Rohan with the Lady more than once over the past days, their more-than-a-little rough meeting seeming washed away in their burgeoning friendship. Though, perhaps the most peculiar of all the ties the Lady Dawn had formed with others was those she had with the Elves. As a species, the Elves were known for their pride and - yes, he could say - their vanity. Haldir, as Gandalf had come to understand him, was very much an Elf - his respect was little given, even amongst his own kin, and yet it was something Gandalf could see, the lady Dawn held. The wizard found himself quite curious as to what the Lady had done to earn such a stately gift from one of the children of the Valar.

Gandalf watched as, ahead, the Lady Dawn crested the rise and let out an audible, even from his distance, sigh of relief. Legolas and Gimli, astride Arod cantered up to her side and the elf joined her on the ground with a nimble leap.

Ah yes, Legolas. Gandalf found himself at impasse when it came to classifying the bond he witnessed forming between the lady Dawn and the Prince of Mirkwood. It had all the makings of a romance, as unfathomable as the notion was - a union between an elf and one of the species of man...

Gandalf almost rolled his eyes, something he had not felt the urge to do for some time.

Granted, the idea was not a new one – as if to prove his point, Aragorn crested the rise beside the Elf and the girl – but it was still an anomaly. And to have Legolas of Mirkwood contemplating the match...though no, perhaps contemplating was the wrong word. Gandalf smirked a little. If his observations were correct, the poor elf didn't even realise what was happening with his emotions - who his subconscious mind had already chosen to partner with...

The group atop the hill started down the other side and Gandalf sighed a little.

If nothing else, the girl's presence was going to prove interesting. She did not yet possess the knowledge she was going to need to be able to survive the awakening of the power that squatted inside of her, this he knew. And this he felt wringing out his thoughts more and more. It was times like this he almost wished he was Gandalf the Grey once more. At least in that incarnation he would not have had to be the one to deal the killing blow to the Lady Dawn's innocence; a blow that he could see falling even now.

He felt the presence beside him more than anything else and sighed slightly as he spoke.

"Knowledge she needs, and knowledge I have...but I am loathe to be the one to shatter the child in her eyes."

The figure beside him paused before answering.

"Perhaps, Mithrandir, if the faith in your own wisdom is faltering, you should trust in hers."

Haldir's words added their own weight to Gandalf's mind as the Elf spurred his horse and rode on towards Edoras. Trust seemed to be the issue of the hour - the trust in her, the trust she had for others...

The trust she held for him, he knew, was teetering over the precipice in his silence. He also knew it would slip before the end – whether he stayed silent or not.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Dawn never thought she'd been so happy to see a bath tub.

The group had arrived at Edoras a little over half an hour ago. There had been laughing and greetings and congratulations until she was suddenly dive-bomb hugged by a strangely squealing blonde blur that very loudly announced, a moment later, that she smelled like Gerald's poop. That, of course, had been Freda. While Dawn was exceedingly happy to see the girl alive and well and not smooshed under a pile of rocks, she still couldn't help the urge she had to strangle the little menace – the girl had a mouth on her to rival Anya. So, in answer to Freda's blatancy and Eowyn's apologetically truthful look, she had been escorted by the shield maiden herself up to the royal bathroom.

The bath was massive by bathtub standards and was set in a rather large and sunny room kept that way by the presence of a whole lot of very open windows. It had taken Dawn all of five seconds to get over the fact that she was going to be naked in such an open space before she had dumped the sack she had been wearing for the past week in a dirty pile near the door and launched herself into the steaming water...literally. The splash almost washed the walls.

She was still there two hours later, lazily soaking after a good and long scrubbing session until the water had begun to cool around her and the light at the windows dimmed. She almost groaned when she realised she was going to have to get out.

As if reading her thoughts, a knock sounded at the door and Eowyn's voice filtered through the hard wood.

"I'm sorry Dawn, but you are going to have to abandon the water in favour of the company of others. The festivities begin within the hour."

Dawn frowned as she stepped from the tepid water and wrapped what served for a towel around her body.

"Festivities?" She questioned as she swung the door open to reveal a rather regal-looking Eowyn, obviously dressed for an occasion.

"Yes." The shield-maiden swept past her as she explained. "Tonight we celebrate the victory of Rohan and pay tribute to those who gave their lives in battle."

Dawn watched as Eowyn pulled on a lever near the window and the water in the bath began to recede, taking all of the grime and the muck she had accumulated over the past week with it. Dawn was not sad to see it go.

"It is a formal occasion, but also a time for merriment," Eowyn continued as she grabbed up Dawn's hand and led her from the room. Dawn was going to protest at her lack of anything even resembling dress but refrained as she was only pulled a little way down the hall and then into a room - Eowyn's personal quarters if the clothes spewed about were any indication.

"Now, I have searched through my wardrobe-" Dawn thought 'murdered' would have been a more adequate word, "-and I have come up with the perfect dress."

Dawn frowned.

"The perfect dress for what?"

Eowyn huffed and pulled her nearer to the bed, one of the least cluttered items in the room.

"For you to wear tonight."

And then Dawn saw it. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened into a small o. Someone should definitely have told Eowyn just how prone she was to destroying whatever she happened to be wearing at any given opportunity. Buffy knew it well and good – the reason she wasn't allowed to borrow anything of her sisters but this...Buffy's clothes were Hessian sacks compared to this.

Dawn gulped.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Legolas practically glued himself to the corner.

The throne-room had begun to fill not an hour earlier until he was surrounded on all sides by milling soldiers, nobles and leaders of various villages, all remembering and talking of, as they had been gathered to do, the horrors of battle. The air was thick with melancholy and reminiscing, all befitting the remembrance that was to take place that very eve.

Legolas felt as if he were choking on it all.

He had never before considered himself claustrophobic, indeed, he had had to put up with such social occasions all his life as the son of a king. And, while he did find men more clumsy and thus more noisy than elves, he doubted that was the reason for his discomfort this night.

"You right here, hiding in your little corner?"

He turned to the source of the voice and, at first, found himself struck a little speechless by the picture before him. It was the Lady Dawn as he had not yet seen her - dressed to occasion and pulling the image off superbly. Whoever had chosen her dress had chosen well. It was long and sleek, made of a silken material that shimmered slightly in the shadows cast by the torches and the milling people. Her sleaves bunched a little at her elbow before falling in a shaft of material that almost swept the ground and left her forearms bare. It was a telling feature in the dress of the Ladies of the court of Rohan – as was the hair left down and unadorned, practically sliding over her shoulders in a way that made his fingertips itch strangely. A deep, almost blood red, the dress offset her skin perfectly and seemed to add an extra sparkle to eyes turned violet in the firelight.

"You look a beauty my Lady."

He hadn't intended the tone in his voice as he said it but felt a strange thrill at the slight blush that stained her cheeks none the less. She glanced away for a moment before regaining his eyes almost playfully.

"Good cover but you didn't answer my question."

Legolas frowned and again looked out over the people milling around the room. Ah yes, why he was hiding in a corner.

"For the past months, I have found myself in many a battle. All the crowds I have been a part of have been either of enemies or those fighting enemies...I suppose I am simply unaccustomed to having my back unguarded amongst such a number."

At that moment, Eowyn's voice rose above the chatting of the congregation.

"If everyone will please move to the fore..."

The crowd swayed and slowly began to trickle towards the front of the throne-room.

"Well, Fabio, that's our cue..."

Legolas turned his sights back on the girl at his side to find her hand outstretched and a teasing yet sincere smile on her face.

"I'll watch your back."

He couldn't really help the small inching of his lips upward at the statement as he placed his hand in hers and she laughed shortly as she moved them both into the crowd. Something she had said suddenly struck him.

"What is a Fabio?"

Dawn looked back at him and Legolas couldn't help thinking her eyes flicked over his hair a second longer than necessary.

"Oh, nothing...I'll tell you later."

Legolas didn't miss the laughter in her statement but couldn't really bring himself to call her on it lest the warmth of her smile aim itself elsewhere.

And when they reached the front, and the King began his speech, neither one of them really noticed that they hadn't let go of each others hands.

------------------------------------------------------------------

The party was a blast by anyone's standards and was by no means confined to the hall. Halfway through the festivities Dawn heard her name called from somewhere near the floor and paused in her cheering along to Merry and Pippin's drunken high-toe long enough to catch sight of Freda gesturing frantically to her from behind one of the pillars. With one last laughing glance back to the Hobbits, now downing the whole of their pints in one swig, she headed for the little girl and stooped down beside her.

"Quick, I'm not supposed to be in here: I've come to rescue you."

Dawn had laughed shortly.

"Rescue me? From what?"

Freda had given her an incredulous look.

"The boredom of course."

Dawn had looked from the Freda's serious face back to the roaring mosh pit that had just started around Merry and Pippin as they burst into song again. To say Freda's view on boredom was a little skewed was like calling Legolas moderately good with the bow – she would have hated to see the girl in school.

They had taken the stairs two at a time until they reached what Dawn had supposed passed for a main street and then they were suddenly swallowed by a crowd, even larger than the one they had just left. People were dancing and cheering left right and centre and, while it wasn't so much more different than the festivities up in the hall, there certainly weren't as many drunkards staggering around the place – she had supposed at the time it had something to do with the inability to afford mead.

"I found her Eothain!"

Freda's voice had seemed to carry, even over the cheers and the music and Dawn had been a little amused as quite a few people had turned their way for a moment before returning to their festivities. One however hadn't, and soon enough, Dawn had found a grinning Eothain in front of her.

"Dawn...I mean...Lady..."

Dawn had laughed.

"Dawn's fine, I'm not much of a lady anyway – just ask my sister."

Eothain's grin had returned and he had turned back to a group of young people behind him, all seemingly interested in the new arrival.

"This is Dawn Orc-Slayer..."

Dawn's eyes had widened at the title and she had felt the uncanny urge to laugh for weeks at the irony of it all. She had been about to protest a change of name when suddenly she was being introduced to what felt like everyone under the age of twenty in a one-hundred metre radius. Then came the dancing that took her back to the days of learning how to square-dance in junior PE only without the whistle and with a lot more flaying of limbs.

And yet, despite it all, she had fun. A whole honkin' heap of it actually. She danced and she cheered, she even managed to teach the majority of Edoras' middle class the Macarina before Eothain had pulled her aside and attempted to stumble around to telling her that he was in love with her. It had been both flattering and extremely creepy at the same time as for the first time in her life she had found herself having to let someone down - usually she was on the other end of that particular conversation. Her high was deflated a little however when later that night she had spied the love-sick boy behind one of the huts with a skinny looking girl who Freda called Helena.

She didn't stumble into the room the King had quartered off as sleeping quarters for her group until extremely late or really early depending on which way you looked at it. By that time she was content to just throw herself on the floor and succumb to the deepest sleep she'd had in a week. It was only as she was drifting off that she realised just how long it had been since she'd had a proper nights sleep – and it was only as she woke up with the room still in darkness that she realised that this night was going to be no different.


	18. Fools, crushes and visions

Dawn sighed softly in her sleep. 

_The stars are veiled_

Her hand shifted soundlessly.

_Something stirs in the east_

The scars were uncharacteristically smooth beneath her fingertips belying their freshness.

_A sleepless malice_

Her breath hitched and her movements stilled. She could feel it crawling stealthily across her skin, bringing a certainty as cold as ice...

_The eye of the enemy is moving_

------------------------------------------------------------------_  
_

Dawn blinked into the blackness for a moment, unsure of what had awakened her She frowned in confusion for a moment, staring up at the empty ceiling – then she heard it.

"Pippin, are you mad?"

Only one person she knew could walk the line between whispering and shouting while seemingly skipping all that came in-between.

"I just want te look at it. Just one more time."

Ah, and only one other could be so clueless. Something innately human within her cringed at Pippin's fevered words, a visual of kittens going to inspect a running lawnmower coming to mind.

"Put it back!"

She sat up at Merry's second whispered shout in as many moments and, turning on her elbow, craned her neck to look down and across the room from her at two little beds made for two little people. The twin shadows sitting up in their cots hardly surprised her. The sparkle of light emanating from behind, what she assumed was Pippin's back, however, did.

She was standing before she'd really even registered deciding to and an insect-like nervousness took its first itchy steps down her spine even as she took her first inching ones towards the two wakeful hobbits at the other end of the room. The light flickered.

Her feet were trembling with the chill of the floorboards. The credit for the rest of her trembling she figured went to the tight knot of terror setting up shop in the very pit of her stomach.

"Pippin!"

Merry's voice was swallowed in a vacuum of sound as Dawn rounded on Pippin, mere inches from seeing what he held so covetously in front of him. She could almost taste the presence; presence of what she found anxiously hard to identify but it settled in the bottom of her gut with an all too familiar sensation. And with it came the fear. At first it simply trickled across her skin, alighting her senses and dragging rabid shivers up and down her spine until it found purchase. Her muscles it attacked next, sending shockwaves through her body until not one inch of her was not quaking.

Her lip trembled and her back ached with fear as she took the last step.

The terror hit her bloodstream in the same instance that the eye snapped to her face. It brought with it a spark of confused recognition.

Sauron. How she managed to connect the name with an evil eye was beyond her, but the certainty was almost as strong as her ignorance. This was the Dark Lord. This was the reason people were dying - why Merry and Pippin were so far from home. Hell, it may even have been why she was so far from home for all she knew.

_I see you_

The velvety force of the voice slammed into her like a physical presence. It wrapped around her, both comforting and stifling in the same moment...covetously she would have said if she'd been able to get her voice to work – covetously.

The eye burned into her.

"Dawn!"

She was surprised she heard Merry's cry over the pounding of the blood in her ears. Her gaze tore from the fire with an almost audible rip and a barrage of invisible needles descended into the backs of her eyes. Merry's face mirrored the desperation in his voice.

"Help!"

Help. Help he said. Her gaze ticked back to the anguished figure of Pippin. Help. Some would have you think it such a simple concept. Yet, as her gaze dropped from Pippin's face to the eye once more, she knew it wasn't. The eye watched her with an almost palpable hunger and a steel knowledge coursed through her blood. Knowledge that the eye knew her. It knew who she was and it wanted her. It wanted her passion and it wanted her soul. It wanted to consume her – and god help her, she knew it would.

"Dawn-"

"No!"

The cry was like acid in parting with her lips. It seemed to fall upon Merry like a burning presence and Dawn was forced to watch the betrayal steal across his features in the second before she turned and ran for the door.

Behind her the eye seemed to laugh.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Gandalf awoke to the sight of Aragorn and Legolas recovering their balance in the doorway, identical looks of anxiety and confusion adorning their features as they looked back the way they had come. Aragorn was the first to move, leaping to Pippin's aid in the same moment Gandalf himself scrambled into action. The old wizard yanked the blanket from his bed so violently the matrass almost flipped clean over but he took no notice as he turned back to Aragorn who had taken it upon his foolishly valiant self to grab the Palantir from Pippin's grasp.

He stepped forward but Legolas was at the ranger's side before him and, being intelligently careful not to come into contact with the orb himself, the elf shook it from his friend's grasp. The Palantir seemed to glide across the floor and Gandalf gritted his teeth as he hefted the blanket. All eyes were on the accursed ball as it disappeared under folds of rough wool and only after he was sure the air was clear did Gandalf turn back to the group. The daggers in his eyes were not to be mistaken.

"Fool of a Took!"

A mental sheathing of said daggers took place however when Pippin's slack face came into view. His heart lurched at the sight, proving that no matter what colour his robes were, his care for those around him still flamed bright. Merry turned anguished eyes on him as he approached and Gandalf allowed himself a spark of pity for the little Hobbit before he pushed him to the side and grasped Pippin's hand in his own.

It was warm to the touch but unresponsive and the wizard allowed himself a cold second of fear before he reached up and placed a guiding hand over the young hobbit's forehead. His own forehead creased slightly as he tangled with the darkness lingering about Pippin's mind before finally he found the opening he sought for. Pippin uttered a strangled gasp from in front of him and Gandalf's eyes snapped open.

"Look at me," he commanded.

Pippin's tormented gaze met his own and Gandalf searched for the telltale spark – anything to indicate Sauron's evil squatting presence.

"Gandalf...forgive me..."

Pippin's eyes shuddered and dropped as the first tear threatened. Gandalf never gave it a chance.

"Look at me!"

Nothing – nothing apparent in any case. Gandalf forced a hard edge into his voice.

"What did you see?"

Pippin's eyes turned inward and Gandalf watched with no small amount of regret as pain stole across the once-innocent hobbit's gaze.

"A tree...there was a white tree...in a courtyard of stone."

Gandalf felt the dread take a hold of him even before Pippin's next words left his lips.

"It was dead. The city was burning..."

Minas Tirith. He had seen Minas Tirith – or at least what Sauron had envisioned for the great city. But how?

Gandalf frowned.

No one, not even he himself possessed the power to wrest images from the mind of the Dark Lord. Sauron had a mind after his own fortress in Mordor - impenetrable when the eye was in focus.

His eyes widened.

Focus. Something had snared the eye's attention; something that had allowed Pippin to slip past and penetrate the impenetrable...something that caught the Dark Lord off guard.

Gandalf practically heard the thump as his stomach landed somewhere in the vicinity of his knees.

Not many things could surprise the Dark Lord Sauron, this he knew...but then not many things had to when one very obvious thing had been travelling with them for some days now. He turned with a sharpness that caused even Aragorn to jump before the ranger's gaze followed the direction of his own – to Dawn's empty blankets.

"Where is she?" The fire in his voice belied the dread in his heart.

"She fled," Legolas answered and Gandalf looked to the elf as a spark of hope kindled in the back of his mind. She had fled – perhaps all was not lost.

"Find her."

Legolas was out the door before the command had even settled in the air and Gandalf spared himself half a sigh before Pippin's voice broke into his train of thought.

"Dawn..."

His neck was really going to make him pay later on for all the sharp turns he'd put it through lately but Gandalf hardly payed the telling twinge a fraction of notice as he took in Pippin's inward gaze once more. Dread once more began to idly throttle his heart.

"What about her?"

Pippin looked for a moment like he was going to lie and Gandalf's back stiffened. The hobbit's eyes searched his own. That in itself gave the wizard pause, then Pippin sighed and seemed to come to a decision; a decision, Gandalf realised with no little amount of surprise, to trust him. Was there no end to the loyalty the girl could inspire?

Gandalf felt his eyes soften a little and saw Pippin take notice.

"Tell me."

Pippin nodded and began to speak.

------------------------------------------------------------------

He finally found her in the stables.

He supposed it should have been apparent - there seemed no end to the amount of time the girl could spend with the horses, almost as if it were a novelty being around the noble creatures.

She was in the very back, hauled up in one of the very last empty stalls. He would have passed her by altogether for how quiet she was but at the last moment, just as he was turning to leave, a lone rock sailed out of the stall gate and, rebounding off the far stall wall, clattered into a bucket at its base. He had approached the stall with a slight tug of uncertainty at the back of his mind. He hadn't thought when Gandalf had hurled the order at him back up at the lodge. He'd simply turned on his heel and obeyed. Never mind the fact that he'd been wanting to go after the girl since she'd pushed past him in the first place. Gandalf had told him to find her and that had been his objective. And yet now that he had, he found himself at a loss as to what to do.

A second rock rebounded and found its mark with a rattle as Legolas stepped up to the stall and peered cautiously inside.

She was jammed up against the back wall, her legs crossed under her as she sat in the hay and stared ahead of her with a blank expression. Legolas was at a loss as he studied her, taking note of the fresh tear tracks on her cheeks as her hand scoured unseeingly through the hay at her side. A moment later, her hand was lifted and a slight huff disturbed the silence as she sent another rock flying, her eyes focussing far too hard on it's trajectory for her not to have seen him. His theory was proved right a moment later when she dropped her eyes and spoke.

"Is Pippin okay?"

Legolas made use of the time it took her to find another rock and took the couple of steps to the open gate, entering and edging to the side to clear the way for another throw.

"He is unharmed, Gandalf is with him."

The girl nodded and resumed her sifting for a rock before seeming to give up and folding her hands into her lap. Legolas rode out the moment of silence unmoving. Finally Dawn sighed.

"I ran away."

The tone of the statement indicated she was aiming for emotionless but Legolas caught the flash of distress in her words none the less. It did not take a great amount of skill to decipher what the cause of said distress was. He could practically taste her guilt at leaving Pippin to fend for himself. The girl sighed again and this time Legolas caught the muffled tears behind the action.

"I'm such a coward."

If he hadn't been an elf Legolas knew he wouldn't have caught the barely-there whisper of self-recrimination. As it was, the statement saw his eyes narrow and before he knew it he was crouched in front of the surprised girl.

"You are many things My Lady, but I know for a fact that 'coward' is not one of them."

The look of surprise at having his face suddenly not two feet from her own melted into one of bitterness.

"And what would you have done?"

The question caught him off guard and for a moment Legolas simply blinked at her.

"Excuse me?"

The fire in her eyes hitched a bit higher and Legolas resisted the urge to sit back from her.

"Come on," She spoke harshly, channelling a bit of her inner hatred out onto him. "If you suddenly found yourself face to face with Sauron what would you do?"

Pride sparked defiantly at the fore of his mind at the question but Legolas bit back the automatic high-toed response. Instead he thought on his answer, really thought on it for the first time since he'd stood up at the council of Elrond. What would he do? Looking back to Dawn's vehement features he offered the most truthful response he could give.

"I- I don't know."

He was mildly put out when the fruit of his moment of inner contemplation was met with a very ungainly snort. He frowned slightly at the snort's owner.

"Oh please - you would have uttered a great battle cry and flounced straight into combat."

Flounce? He did a lot of things in battle but he was sure flouncing, whatever it was, was not one of them. Legolas could feel himself puffing up indignantly but never really got the chance to become properly incensed before the she-devil continued.

"You would have stayed...You would have smashed that stupid over-grown marble right over Sauron's stupid evil head and Pippin wouldn't have gotten hurt and Merry wouldn't have looked at you like you'd kicked his favourite puppy..."

The girl grabbed up a lump of straw wildly and waved it around in a way that made Legolas slightly nervous.

"You wouldn't be hiding in the house of horse poop-"

The straw fell away revealing the rock in her fist and Legolas became more than slightly nervous.

"- throwing stupid rocks into stupid BUCKETS!"

The last word resounded around the stable at a screech that almost drowned out the deafening rattle of the bucket rolling across the floor, a brand new dint in its once-sturdy side. Legolas turned widened eyes back to the origin of the rock from his new perch on the floor (where he'd thrown himself quite spectacularly) and was in time to catch the crumple of Dawn's features just before she buried her face in her hands. His heartbeat slowed to the sound of her sobs only to jump a little as she all but wailed.

"I w-want to go h-home!"

She ended with a broken hiccup and Legolas found himself moving closer to her despite the little niggling voice of self-preservation at the back of his head urging him to place at least three solid objects between himself and her throwing arm. About to rest a comforting hand on her shaking shoulder she surprised him by flinching away.

"Don't do that..."

He was uncertain of how to handle the sting her words caused before she went on, her face still hidden in her folded arms resting across her upraised knees.

"That way leads to hugs and back p-patting and it's bad enough being all weepy and p-pathetic in front of you, if I s-started crying on you I'd have to kill myself..."

After he'd sifted through the jumbled sentence for the well-hidden meaning Legolas couldn't decide whether he wanted to shake the girl or laugh at her. He settled vaguely on both as he very pointedly placed his hand on its intended destination and fixed her with a significant look when she raised a tear-stained face to his. Rather than launch into his arms as she'd warned a moment before she simply stared at him a moment before her lips curled upward slightly. He felt the corner of his own following suit and the two shared a moment before she sighed heavily and, dropping his gaze, scrubbed at her face with her hands.

"God, I wish my sister was here."

Deciding he'd been as undignified as he was going to get throwing himself bodily into the hay Legolas shifted around and made himself comfortable in the straw beside the newly-contemplative girl.

"You have a sister?"

As soon as he said it he realised the implications. This was the first time Dawn had spoken of her life. It was a strange thing to realise that he knew virtually nothing of the girl sitting beside him in terms of what her life had been before becoming involved in his.

She obviously realised the same thing because the next thing he knew Legolas was faced with a very long silence. The tortured look on her face was almost comical. Almost as if she didn't know where to start.

A horse from the next stall chose that moment to stick its nose over the divide and investigate its neighbours. In an effort to give Dawn some space Legolas got to his feet and greeted the beast. As he was scratching around its ears he found himself smiling slightly at the stray thought that rose unbidden.

"Did you know, I thought you a daughter of Rohan upon our first meeting?" He asked as he ran a palm down the mare's velvety nose. When Dawn didn't answer straight away he looked back to her to find her frowning in confusion. She shook her head when she saw him looking and he nodded slightly, turning back to the attention-happy chestnut.

"It seemed the only plausible explanation for you to be in Fanghorn Forest."

Out of the corner of his eye he watched as her face clouded over with an undisclosed memory for a moment before he continued.

"But do you know what finally convinced me you were not of this region?"

Dawn shook her head no and Legolas couldn't help the teasing smile that broke out on his lips as he looked back on her.

"It was the way you rode."

Dawn looked affronted.

"What's wrong with the way I ride?" she asked and Legolas almost laughed as the chestnut chose that ideal moment to snort. Dawn shot the horse a look from her still-seated position.

"Surprisingly, very little."

This seemed to take her aback.

"You did have a natural rhythm when astride Arod," he explained. "But it was not because you are accustomed to the act."

Dawn got to her feet then and Legolas silently cheered his success as she joined him in scratching their neighbour around the ears.

"You have a beginner's knack My Lady," he explained before grinning outright.

"But if there is a learner rider in all of Rohan who complains about the 'bumpiness' of their steed I will eat my bow."

He watched as Dawn's mouth dropped open into a small o of surprise before she let out a sharp burst of laughter. Silently commending himself on a job well done, he allowed himself a chuckle too as he watched her before she looked up at him and, quite suddenly, he found his tongue had glued itself to the roof of his mouth.

Something within him seemed to grind to a halt at the look of her – the tear tracks were still apparent and she had bits of straw strewn through her hair...but there was something there that caught him in a choke-hold. Her face was flushed from her earlier amusement and a glow danced in her eyes with seeming abandon. The whole effect was...stunning. He didn't realise he was staring until the chestnut snorted next to him and retracted it's head, obviously seeing no point in sticking around when the elf previously scratching her ears was struck immobile.

Legolas cleared his throat lightly and felt his eyes drop, to his everlasting shame, to the ground where he even went to far as to toe a piece of straw with his boot. What in the name of Arda was wrong with him? Snapping his gaze hastily back up to a more appropriately elvish level he quickly overrode the shameful warming of his cheeks with the long awaited question - ironically the one that had gotten him into this mess of starring in the first place.

"So...if you are not from Rohan my lady, would you think me rash if I enquired as to your real origins?"

There it was - the proverbial moment of truth. Legolas watched with interest (and to his confusion, no small amount of fascination) as Dawn bit her lip lightly and seemed to ponder the question. Finally a clarity came to her eyes and she sighed a little.

"Well, for starters, people don't call each other 'My Lady' where I'm from."

Legolas frowned.

"What do they call each other?"

Dawn shrugged lightly and moved to sit once more. Legolas followed.

"Mostly 'hey you'..." She seemed to pause in thought. "Occasionally dude."

Legolas felt his mind lurch at the unfamiliar word.

"Dude?"

It just sounded endlessly vulgar to his ears. Dawn shrugged again as the two of them settled in the straw.

"Yeah, don't ask me - people have a thing for the 80's."

Okay, now he was really lost. It must have shown on his face because Dawn cringed a little when she looked up at him.

"And I'm confusing you. Okay..." she seemed to shake her self a little before sitting up straighter. Legolas felt his attention perk in response as she turned serious eyes on him once more.

"The thing about where I'm from is..." she struggled for a moment. "Well it's a long way away."

There was something all together disturbing about her tone.

"How far?"

"Ever heard of an inter-dimensional portal?"

Legolas blinked as Dawn launched into an explanation he was becoming increasingly sorry he asked for.

------------------------------------------------------------------

It was almost funny watching Legolas' face become more and more confused as she went on. His forehead eventually became so cutely wrinkled she wasn't sure it would ever iron out and she was sure at one point his eye even twitched. Finally she paused for breath and the poor elf took the opportunity to rub at the aforementioned forehead.

"So...you are from a world where tubes of metal fly people across oceans, stories are told in dark rooms full of chairs with the use of moving pictures and horses are ridden purely for recreation?"

Dawn nodded and couldn't help an amused smile at the bewilderment that settled on the elf's face for the umpteenth time.

"At least the demons that gorge on blood were halfway plausible."

Dawn couldn't help but shake her head at the irony of it all. The one thing that was unbelievable in her world was 'plausible' here. It was like telling Freda all over again. She watched as the elf at her side seemed to digest the new information heaped on top of him in the space of one night...or morning now that she noticed the drabble of sunlight across the hay in front of her. How long had they been sitting there?

"How did you come to be here?"

The question shocked her out of her inner musings and she turned startled eyes to meet questioning ones.

"Huh?"

"Your world to mine...it cannot have been a natural transition."

The statement hit her harder than she would have liked and she knew it showed when Legolas sat back a bit and his eyes showed concern.

"The question is inappropriate..."

Dawn shook her head quickly reaching out and unconsciously grabbing his hand to keep him where he was – near her. She needed him there, especially if she was going to relive what she thought she was going to.

"No," she assured him, sparing no little amount for herself as well. "It's okay."

Her voice was uncertain even to her own ears and she felt a squeeze to her hand as the memories rose unbidden.

"The sky was tearing open..."

------------------------------------------------------------------

"There was no lie in Pippin's eyes. A fool...but an honest fool he remains."

And a fool with a bloody big headache too. Good grief he hadn't felt this bad since Bilbo's birthday party. Come to think of it, he'd gotten on the wrong side of Gandalf then too. Perhaps the old grape was placing a curse on him. He glanced suspiciously up at the grape in question as the wizard continued filling the congregation in on how much of an idiot he had been. He seemed to be doing that an awful lot lately too...though that may have had something to do with his being an idiot a lot of the time.

And anyway, it wasn't as though he had meant to hurt anyone – least of all Frodo. His eyes became downcast. But then that was just it wasn't it? He never meant to do the things he did but they happened anyway. Trouble seemed not just drawn to him but up and ready to wed him as well. He was surprised he hadn't yet ended up in the torture chambers of Sauron himself – now there would be a screw up, even by his standards. Though, thinking back to his visions courtesy of the evil-ball-of-doom, he wasn't too sure he should be thinking such things, you know, just in case. Such things had a tendency to happen around him and these were the such-things he really didn't want to happen in case such things happened because of the such things if you caught his meaning.

But things were things, and as Gandalf liked to say, things were now in motion that could not be undone. He had seen Sauron's plan – another thing he didn't mean to do. But that wasn't all he'd seen.

The creak of the door opening behind him caught his attention and he turned as, as if pulled by his very thoughts themselves, Dawn stepped timidly through the opening. She looked rather like he felt - tired and drawn though he barely took notice as the bubble of worry that had been building in his stomach all morning burst. Merry had told him what had happened the night before - how she had run. He'd said it with a rather peculiar look in his eye too, kind of like the one he'd had when Frodo had shaken his head at them on the slopes of Emyn Muil. He had said how scared she had looked when she saw the eye and Pippin had felt sick to the stomach. Of all the things that had happened the night before, making Dawn run had caused him the most guilt.

Dawn was...she was just nice and he hated that he may have hurt her - it rather made him hurt quite a lot to think about it.

"Dawn!"

Pippin could launch himself quite far when he had a mind to. Just then he had a mind and a half. He felt the girl stagger slightly under his weight but the reassuring crush of her hugging him back made much of anything not matter any more as he poured every 'sorry' that had been on the tip of his tongue into that one embrace.

"I'm so sorry."

Okay, that hadn't been him. He frowned a little as he suddenly found his feet on solid ground and his face to Dawn's as she shook her head. He paled. Oh she hated him, she was never going to speak to him again, he'd broken...wait up, was that a guilty head bow? It was! He should know - he had the move perfected himself.

"What?"

Confusion was abounding. Dawn was guilty? Over what? Was she the one cursing him with his pins and needles headache? He eyed her suspiciously until he noticed the confusion mirrored on her own face.

"What, what?"

"What, what, what?"

The girl's forehead crinkled.

"What? Why are you whating?"

"I'm whating 'cause yer whating..."

"But I'm saying I'm sorry."

This time it was Pippin's forehead crinkling.

"What fer?"

"For running away...for not helping you with the evil death ball thingy."

Pippin's eyes widened in realisation.

"Oh!" He frowned again. "But that's not right."

"What's not?"

"You being sorry."

Frowning was the theme of the hour.

"Why not?"

"'Cause I'm sorry."

And now eye widening had joined frowning at the punch-bowl of the theme party.

"What? Why?"

"'Cause I looked inte the seer...stone...thang."

"What? It's not your fault Sauron had his eye hot-wired to a crystal ball."

"But I looked..."

"I would have too."

"Well I would have run."

The two of them stopped suddenly as they both hit a dead end in blaming themselves for the other's distress.

"Huh..."

"Yeah..."

Pippin's eyes lit up.

"So we're fergivin' then?"

Dawn nodded slowly as she seemed to mentally run through their conversation in her head.

"I...think so."

Pippin grinned.

"Excellent!"

Turning back to the greater population of the room he found all eyes on the two of them.

"What?"

------------------------------------------------------------------

Dawn couldn't seem to help the bemused smile that crawled over her lips as she watched Pippin practically skip back to Merry's side.

Merry.

The smile dropped like a tonne of bricks as she recalled the look of betrayal on the other hobbit's face the night before. That look was sure to be burned into her memory for eternity...as was the one he was giving her now. He had obviously been aiming for calm indifference but, as she had learned early on, hobbits were notorious for showing what they felt and Merry was no different. His serene stare was punctuated frequently by flashes of unmistakable turmoil and his mouth had traded camps fully and turned itself into a rather ugly frown.

Dawn felt something cold drop into her heart with a thud. Then something else thudded for an all together different reason as Legolas took her hand in his own. This was not good. Tingles had started running relays up and down her arm and she could feel an all too familiar blush beginning near her collarbone.

Dawn generally found herself to be well behaved around members of the opposite sex. When she didn't have crushes on them she was a perfectly civilised person. The only problem was there weren't a lot of members of the opposite sex she didn't, at some time or another, have a crush on.

Yes, she could readily admit it. She was a crush slut. If she spent enough time around any guy she found she eventually went a little mental. She'd chalked it up to stupid teenage hormones – yet another thing to blame those damn monks for – and had made it her goal in life to ignore them as much as possible, mostly by studiously avoiding said crush until she had settled down.

There were exceptions obviously. Xander for one. It had been virtually impossible for her to avoid her sister's best friend, especially when he was always over at her house going through her fridge. As a result he had become her longest running jonze – she was never able to get away from him long enough to get over him and so had gotten to the point where she had simply given up. Luckily that one had blown out on its own.

Then there was Spike. Now Spike was an entirely different story. Spike was a unique sort of crush in that Dawn knew for a fact that there was no way in hell she was ever going to get anywhere with him and so she spent most of her time trying to go somewhere with him. She chalked it up to teenage stupidity – that too, she had in spades.

But now this. She had known it was inevitable from the first moment she literally fell into his lap in Fanghorn forest – she was just plain destined to fall arse-backwards in lust with the pointy eared wonder – who wouldn't be for god's sake? It had only really been a matter of time.

Luckily a war had distracted her.

But it seemed that crushes not only spread like a virus but adapted to changing conditions like them too. Because all of a sudden, it didn't matter that the whole frigging world was going to hell in a hand basket – she was going to get all light-headed and fluffy every time he touched her whether she liked it or not.

Oh, but she did like it an awful lot just then – especially when his thumb brushed over her palm like that and his lips did that little smirky thing she'd seen him do sometimes...

And oh no, here it came...

The sigh was one straight out of a Danielle Steel novel.

Dawn wanted to scream, puke and melt into a puddle of goo at Legolas' feet all at once.

Things just couldn't get any worse.

"He will raise Minas Tirith to the ground before he sees a king returned to the throne!"

Oh that's right, there was a war happening. She felt a tug on her hand and followed accordingly as Legolas led her over closer to the meeting. She tried and failed not to float on a little cloud the whole way. They came to a stop next to Merry and Pippin and she saw Pippin glance at her sideways before returning his attention to the front. This in itself didn't faze her overly; his double-take however did.

"What's that?"

There was something in his voice Dawn was unaccustomed to hearing from the occupationally-cheerful hobbit; something dark and worrying. There was also the fact that he was keeping his voice surprisingly low – surprising because it was him. Following his shocked gaze she saw the sleeve of her dress had rolled upwards on her forearm, revealing a small section of scar she prided herself on keeping hidden.

It was from the night she'd found out she was the key – her proof to herself that she was real, that she wasn't a thing. A thing she turned out to be anyway. She hurriedly pulled the sleave down but it was too late - Pippin knew what he had seen and she could tell from the looks on their faces that Merry and Legolas had caught a glimpse as well.

Still, she tried anyway.

"It's nothing..."

Merry's eyes narrowed and Legolas' hand tightened around hers for a moment before she was pulled out of his grasp by Pippin of all people. He dragged her back slightly, shooting a look over behind her looking for all the world like an international spy checking for eaves-droppers. The fact that it was Gandalf he was shooting looks at made her immeasurably curious.

"There's something I have to tell you only I'm not real sure I should or not because Gandalf-"

Dawn's eyes narrowed at the mention of he-who-shall-not-give-her-answers.

"Screw Gandalf, tell me."

Pippin didn't even pause as he launched into it, seemingly not caring that Merry and Legolas had joined the huddle as well. She couldn't help thinking that the four of them must have looked incredibly suspicious all hunkered down in the shadows like they were but all thoughts of appearances fled when Pippin began speaking.

"When I looked - when 'e had me squashed down by that evil thang...I saw thangs; thangs I don't think I was rightly supposed te see, do ye see?"

Dawn nodded, her curiosity as peaked as ever as Pippin continued.

"I saw a tree, a white tree and a city burning..."

"Minas Tirith," Legolas supplied and Pippin nodded.

"That's what they're all uppity about over there," Merry explained, gesturing back to where Aragorn and Théoden seemed to be having a bit of a stand-off. Dawn glanced back and swore she saw Gandalf look away from them sharply before she turned back to Pippin's hurried relay.

"That was pretty much the all of it, the rest was just a lot of jumbled pictures and words...but there was one other clear bit..." At this, the carefree little hobbit grew immeasurably serious as he met Dawn's gaze squarely with his own. "I saw you."

Dawn felt like she'd been slapped and then presented with a piece to a puzzle she hadn't even registered she was putting together yet.

"But...but that's impossible!"

Pippin nodded fervently.

"I know...but it was you. You looked a bit different - yer hair was darker I think and ye were a fair bit angrier than I ever want te see ye let me tell- "

"Pippin-"

Pippin waved his hands as if waving away his tangent.

"Right, but the thang I remember – ye had cuts...on yer...on yer wrists..."

The discomfort on his face left little to the imagination about what sort of cuts they were and Dawn shivered a little before she shook her head.

"That...I never did that...I'd never do..." She pulled the sleave of her dress up again, this time revealing the whole of the scar. It was quite big, slicing a diagonal path up her forearm that, while rather impressive to look at, had had little chance of becoming life threatening – especially since she'd walked into a room full of over-protective friends and family the moment after.

"This was just...a test..."

She was saved from further awkward explanations as Pippin reached out and ran a small finger over the slightly raised skin.

"No, that's not what I saw – and anyway both wrists were bleedin'."

Dawn answered the unspoken question with a lift of her opposite sleave revealing unmarred skin beneath. She caught Legolas' look out of the corner of her eye and knew she wasn't going to be able to avoid his questions later. He didn't know she was the key. If she'd been protective of her secret before she had sure as hell amped it up after the whole Sauruman incident. But it was more than that. No matter how much she tried to deny it she liked Legolas. A lot. And there was some part of her that imagined a horrible look on his face when he found out she wasn't even a person. She…she didn't want to see that look. And so, when they had come to the tales of Glory and how she'd gotten to Middle earth she had painted herself as the sacrifice. "There was something in my blood apparently…" Those were her words. She almost laughed bitterly at the thought. Something in the blood.

Gandalf's voice suddenly broke into her inner musings with a statement that caused no small frown to spring up on her face.

"I ride for Minas Tirith..."

He rides for Minas Tirith? He RIDES for MINAS TIRITH? Oh this was just the last straw. He'd run out of ways to avoid her questions so he just plain avoids her? By pissing off to another city no less? She spun in an even ark and crossed her arms in front of her as her foot began its obligatory tap.

"And I won't be going alone."

Her last tap hit with a bit more force than was necessary as she frowned at Gandalf's annoyingly all-knowing gaze that was currently trained to a space just left of her shoulder. Following it, Dawn was met with the hopelessly clueless face of Pippin. Her mouth opened in an o of surprise before her eyes hardened and she turned back to glare at the White Wizard.

Hell no didn't even begin to cover it.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Gandalf knew she would follow. He knew from the moment he'd seen Pippin pull her off to the side in the hall - her glare aimed at him following his pronouncement regarding the little hobbit's travels simply cemented the deal.

"Gandalf!"

He didn't slow down, a part of him yet unwilling to face the undeniable wrath the girl now had for him.

"Gandalf you pompous asshat!"

He very nearly tripped over his staff.

"Excuse me?"

He turned in time to see her close the distance between them at a rather impressive stalk.

"You heard me you overgrown handkerchief!"

He simply blinked at her for a moment, unsure of whether he should laugh or retaliate. Actually, with the look she was aiming at him right then he was seriously considering cowering to be a viable option also.

"Just what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I beg your pardon?" He was happy to note that at least his voice had lost none of the authority he was renowned for.

"You can't just drag Pippin away like this!"

Ah, at least in this point of contention he had a sure argument.

"I am dragging Pippin, as you say, to safety."

"Into the middle of a war?"

He rounded on her then, his eyes blazing power.

"Into the most secure stronghold outside of Mordor!"

Her mouth closed with an audible pop but her frowning countenance remained in tact. Gandalf whipped back around and resumed his course for the stables.

"Do not presume to know better than me in matters such as these. You know too little of the circumstances," he growled over his shoulder.

"Yeah, well, whose fault is that?"

He ignored the bratty comeback for the most part but a cool apprehension began to thread its way around his spine. Any moment now; any moment and she would ask. He strode into the cool shade of the stable and made a beeline for the last stall housing Shadowfax, three figures tailing him rather than the two he had hoped for. Her next words came as he was lifting Pippin up onto the white stallion.

"You're actually going to do it aren't you? You're going to leave me here without telling me."

He avoided her gaze as he fussed about arranging his travel packs.

"What would you have me tell you?"

It was a stupid question, he knew it before the final syllable had even passed his lips – the harsh kick to his shin just seemed to drive the point home. He cried out in pain and surprise as he hopped for a moment in a most ungainly way before he gathered his control and rounded on the source of the kick.

"Why you-"

The girl quite effectively cut the curse short.

"Do you know how I even knew what that was in that stupid crystal ball thing? Do you?"

He simply glared at her and he noticed she made a point of stepping up to his challenge with a glare and stance all her own.

"Saruman."

Suddenly he wasn't glaring anymore.

"What?"

Dawn nodded.

"You heard. Everything I know about this god forsaken war I got from him."

Gandalf felt his blood run cold as she continued.

"Now I don't know about you, but I don't exactly think he's a guy whose word I should be trusting."

Gandalf took a hasty step forward, ignoring the twinge in his still-smarting shin.

"You must not trust one word that passed his lips..."

The girl did the unthinkable for his pride then and crossed her arms and rolled her eyes.

"Well dah, what did I just say?"

A confused silence followed the proclamation and Gandalf, for the first time since his fall, felt his mind tear with indecision. He watched the expectation play over Dawn's face in front of him for a moment before his eyes unerringly strayed to Pippin, sitting, as clueless as ever, astride Shadowfax, ready for a swift getaway.

Oh what a royal mess this was turning out to be. He'd feared for some time now that he had kept his silence too long and his fears, it seemed, had been proved to possess bases of solid rock.

Finally with a growl of frustration he pulled the altogether vexing girl aside and proceeded to hiss down at her.

"I cannot stay now, the risk is too great."

Dawn opened her mouth to object but he cut her off with an impatient wave.

"This I will say and I hope that you take my words to heart for your actions may mean the freedom or destruction of this world."

Ah yes, that got her attention.

"I know what you are. I know the power you possess. Unfortunately, Sauron also knows and I fear that now his thoughts will bend to you in addition to the ring..."

Her mouth opened again to enquire but again he cut her off.

"Do not ask me about the ring, I don't have the time and Aragorn or Legolas would be as much suited to the telling as me." He grasped her shoulders then, willing his next words to hit some part of her mind that would take heed.

"This last instruction I leave with you: stay with Aragorn. Sauron will think I have taken you with me to Minas Tirith just as I am taking Pippin but I fear the façade will not keep as long as I should like."

He turned then and approached Shadowfax with no little amount of haste. A proudly nimble leap later and he turned his gaze back down on the wide-eyed girl from behind Pippin. Dawn, for her part, looked startlingly close to being quite sick.

"I'm sorry child – you have no idea how sorry but you must stand fast. Remember my words and, Valar willing, perhaps we will meet again within the walls of Minas Tirith."

The wizard felt a thread of pride as the child swallowed harshly and nodded, her eyes already hardening in determination. He nodded down at Merry for a moment before turning his gaze back to the girl.

"Be safe. For all our sakes."

Shadowfax seemed to take that as his signal and before Gandalf himself readily knew it, he and Pippin were galloping out through the gates of Edoras at a speed to make a mans toes curl. He sighed into the onrushing wind, his thoughts still back in the stables.

How the power had ever come to the girl he could not fathom...

But then he supposed energy did come in many shapes and forms.


	19. Safe

Dawn had never really thought on the mechanics of throwing a punch before. She'd never really had to. Born into the world she was and, indeed, playing the part she did, no one had ever really thought to teach her how to fight. She was the one others fought for - the helpless one. A fat lot of good that role in life had done her in the end.

"Keep your weight balanced on both feet."

Dawn couldn't help rolling her eyes a little as Aragorn paced around behind her, shifting her stance for about the fifth time. Across from her, crouched in a similar pose to her own, Legolas had the audacity to smirk at her expression. Resisting the urge to poke her tongue out at him she instead concentrated on Aragorn's instructions.

"Let your opponent come to you. Do not make the mistake of overextending a blow that could be taken advantage of."

As if on cue Legolas began to move and for a moment Dawn found herself struck dumb by the seamless grace in it – how he just seemed to go from stationary to practically humming with movement with no in-between. Of course then she was on her back and the 'seamless grace' was grinning amusedly down at her. Dawn scowled as Aragorn's face appeared next to the beaming elf.

"What went wrong?"

Dawn huffed. He probably wasn't going to accept that she got distracted by the prettiness of her opponent.

"He was too fast."

Aragorn shook his head as she grudgingly accepted a hand up from the still smirking elf.

"Nay, you underestimated his speed."

Dawn's eyes narrowed as Legolas again took position opposite her and then had the audacity to wink at her scowling face. She underestimated his speed huh? Well let's see him underestimate this…

Two seconds later she was back on the ground.

"Agh!" she growled, thumping the earth under her in frustration. Again Aragorn's face appeared hovering over her own.

"It will avail you little to become angered."

"It will avail me a lot to become angered thankyouverymuch!" she huffed, this time ignoring Legolas' offered hand and scrambling inelegantly to her feet without aid.

"How come this is so damn hard? You saw me at Helm's Deep, I was kicking major Orc butt!"

She wasn't really expecting an answer. The group of them had already been over and over the phenomenon that had been Dawn Orc Slayer without much success. Her skill that night was, quite simply, a mystery. One that was beginning to awaken more than a little outraged frustration in Dawn. She could remember it all in surround sound. The feel of the blade in her hand - the spray of blood. She could practically taste the adrenalin like it was yesterday; the knowledge and the power.

But now? Now she was lucky if she didn't accidentally kill someone with flaying limbs - Legolas had the bruises to prove it. In desperation they had turned to defense but, as her last few stints at critiquing the sky showed plainly, she apparently sucked at that too. She was all ready to pull out all the stops and throw herself on the ground in one hell of a tantrum when a voice spoke up to her left.

"You are thinking too much."

Everyone turned at the new addition to their little group including Merry and Freda who had been immersed in a game of Naughts and Crosses in the dirt off to the side of their impromptu training arena. Both Legolas and Aragorn dropped into short bows in greeting.

"My lady."

The lady in question nodded back though Dawn caught the rolling of her eyes. Eowyn hated formalities. Greetings accomplished, the lady of the court continued with her intrusion, petting Freda on the head as she passed the young girl.

"What did you mean I was thinking too much?"

Eowyn met Dawn's questioning gaze head on.

"I have seen you fight Dawn. I have seen the fire in your movements and the shine upon your skin."

Dawn shifted uncomfortably. Jeeze, she made it sound almost naughty.

"You fight with grace and strength – but you do not fight with thought."

Dawn frowned.

"Huh?"

But apparently Aragorn got it.

"Instinct."

Eowyn nodded to the ranger as Dawn's brow crumpled.

"Hold up – you're saying all this is just…built in?"

It wasn't until the words left her mouth that Dawn properly took in their meaning. Built in. Well it stood to reason didn't it? Maybe the monks had slipped in a bit of insurance after all. But then why did that not feel properly put together? This was getting to be more than a bit frustrating. Dawn felt as though she had been landed with every second piece to the puzzle – half the picture could be seen but with no connections it was still all skewed.

"So what? I have to stop thinking?"

Eowyn's lips quirking conveyed her answer amiably. Dawn envied her that, the ability to speak without actually speaking. Tara had had that too. Dawn frowned.

"You do know it's hard enough to get me to stop talking let alone thinking."

Legolas snorted behind her and Dawn threw a glare at him. The grin he threw back could have rotted the teeth of the Spanish inquisition. And but damn him if he wasn't still cute when he was being obnoxious.

"Dawn, what is it you feel for Legolas?"

Dawn promptly had a coughing fit.

"Wha-What?"

Eowyn's eyes didn't so much twinkle as blaze.

"When you look at him – what do your instincts tell you?"

Eowyn's face was the picture of business as she delivered her subject-friendly clarification but Dawn wasn't fooled – the damn eyes were still glittering away like a run-away fireworks display. Feeling almost mortally flushed Dawn stole a glance at Legolas that turned into a drawn out stare. Eowyn's words came back to her – what did her instincts tell her?

Legolas' eyes were on her – not a big surprise as most everyone's was in waiting for her answer. Yet somehow, his blue gaze seemed more affecting than all the rest put together. He was a picture - almost an intense perfection. Seeing him standing there, all pressed and poised as usual, Dawn couldn't deny one instinct in particular telling her he would probably look even better all mussed and undone, his weight braced over her as he…oh…

Dawn managed, somehow, to go redder. Boy-howdy was she so not voicing that one. But they were still waiting for an answer. Okay, fine. She could do this. Mentally shaking herself she took a deep breath and stole another lingering glance at the bane of her self-control. Instincts – come on instincts. Dawn mentally narrowed her eyes at the barrage of adult rated impulses that rushed to the fore. G rated instincts – come on…and there it was. Being jostled back and forth near the back row of everything she wanted to do to Legolas involving whipped cream and peanut butter. Little, innocent –

"Safety."

Legolas was surprised. It was rather comical the way he got there too. One moment his face was the very picture of curiosity, waiting for her answer to Eowyn's question then, with one blink, suddenly he looked as though someone had bitten him on the fine elven arse. Dawn would have laughed if she hadn't been so shocked herself. Safe? Legolas made her feel safe? Oh god, this wasn't good. She was never meant to feel safe with her crush – heady and giggly yes but never safe. The runaway train that was her life seemed to have switched lines when she wasn't looking and was now headed into unknown territory.

"I thought as much."

Eowyn's self-assured voice was like a glass of ice water in the face. Dawn blinked at her in much the same way Legolas had done to her the moment before. Eowyn rolled her eyes.

"Well how are you expected to rely on your instincts to fight someone you feel inherently safe with?" The sword-maiden asked, obviously miss-interpreting Dawn's goldfish look. Aragorn chose that moment to enter the conversation.

"And who do you propose she fight my lady?"

Eowyn didn't move a muscle - barely an eyelash fluttered and yet Dawn still caught it. A minute glance it was but a glance none the less. Dawn wasn't quick enough to follow it before she suddenly felt a presence at her back and a quick hand wrapped its way around her neck.

Dawn reacted without thought.

Dropping her centre of gravity sharply forward she twisted her neck at a sharp angle causing the hand about her throat to lose some of its purchase. Some was enough and quicker than even she thought possible Dawn found herself at a surprisingly safe distance, still crouched slightly from coming out of a drop-roll. The silence that followed was filled with enough blinks to sink a small tanker. Eowyn was the first to recover with a triumphant grin.

"Excellent."

Dawn didn't look at her. She was still a bit pre-occupied with trying to come to terms with just who had attacked her.

"Haldir?"

Haldir nodded in greeting, his stance shifting from one of attack to one of dignified rest with the same flawless elegance she'd seen in Legolas not minutes before. It was an elf thing obviously.

"The lady Eowyn has told me of your difficulties _tinu_ – here I offer you my assistance, so much as it is to give."

Dawn couldn't seem to do much else but gape.

"You-you're gonna spar with me?"

Oh but if his nod wasn't as noble as the rest of him. Dawn turned her incredulous gaze to Eowyn.

"And what makes you think I don't feel any less safe with Haldir?"

This time the madi-gras had set up in Eowyn's knowing eyes.

"You did not seem to be having feelings of safety just now Dawn."

"He attacked me from behind!"

"Then let me now attack you from the front."

And then, before Dawn could so much as squeak, he did. 


	20. A dream and a Journey

AN: As of now, all previous chapters to this one have been re-written. Quite a bit has changed - mostly to do with the placing of plot points and cleaning up the flow of it all. As much as you're likely to hate me for it, it would probably be a good idea to re-read the story. 

Anyone who would rather die, I would ask that you at least re-read chapter 14 - biggish plot change there. Also, just to clarify - Legolas knows Dawn is from another dimension. He knows about her life and her sister. He does not know she's the Key yet.

Cheers and enjoy. As always I own nothing.

---------------------------------------------------FIC HERE

"The dead city. Very nasty place. Full of enemies."

The look Gollem turned on him then would have been enough to make him shudder three months ago. As it was, Frodo barely had the energy to blink at the words. Everything was just becoming…harder lately. Each step was more painful than the last. He knew Sam was noticing. Noticing and worrying. Truthfully Frodo was beginning to worry himself. He'd taken to lapsing into waking dreams. Fearful concoctions of the mind that tore a little more out of him each time it happened. He hadn't slept in days.

"Quick. Quick! They will see. They will see!"

Gollem scrabbled across the rock in front of them but Frodo couldn't find the strength to quicken his pace. Staggering out into the open he finally got his first good look at the Dead City.

It was beautiful. Beautiful and terrifying. Demons of stone sneered at him from the gate posts as the battlements twisted away into the darkness. Frodo wanted to disappear with them.

"Come away, come away…"

He would forever find it ironic later that Gollem's instruction had come just as the presence of the Ring fell upon him. The world was suddenly stifled and very small. Frodo felt as though he was suffocating as a hook fixed itself around his neck and dragged him forward. And it would be so easy. So very very easy to give into the consciousness he felt seeping into the back of his scull.

_Go to them. Give yourself to them. Give yourself to me. Go._

Step after step. It would be so easy…

Frodo knew the ring. He knew its ways. That's why when a blossom of alarm opened in his head as the Gargoyle swayed in front of him, almost close enough to touch he was shocked.

_No! No go back!_

Frodo paused.

_Go back!_

He was puzzled. He felt the ring's familiar weight upon him, blanketing his senses as it sought control. And yet that's not all he felt. There was something else there. Something desperate and afraid and yet something…lighter. Frodo took his first deep breath in months.

And then there were hands on him, dragging him back as the world exploded in green light.

"Frodo!"

------------------------------------------------------------------

Dawn nearly tore her blanket in half trying to thrash her way out of it as she jarred herself awake. It took her a moment for the room to come into focus. When it did she found Merry sitting with a startled look on his face by her side. She couldn't remember sitting up.

"You were having a nightmare," Merry said a little aimlessly. "Are you okay?"

Dawn tried to breathe properly and failed. She couldn't seem to make her mouth work. She could still see the green on the back of her eyelids.

"You said Frodo."

Dawn stared at Merry.

"When you were screaming. You said Frodo," he explained. Merry had been a little strange around her ever since Pippin and the orb but Dawn had never heard him so serious before. Then again Dawn had never had a nightmare about one of his friends before either.

"I need to speak to Aragorn," she said.

There was a silence laden with a million questions before Merry simply nodded and helped her to her feet.

------------------------------------------------------------------

Legolas was…distracted he thought was the best way to describe it. His mind wondered lately to snatches of thoughts that, when caught, confused him. For instance, why should his mind bend to the lady Dawn's training sessions so very often? And why, when this happened, should his focus be on her smile and the flush of her skin? When Haldir had taken his place as her sparring partner he'd never in a million years thought this would happen. He'd half expected the slight bite that came from being usurped but that, he knew, was simply pride. The feeling he got from being able to sit back from the sessions and simply watch the lady Dawn's movements and grace was something very different.

"You appear very far away my friend, what assails your thoughts?"

Legolas tried and failed not to sigh heavily. After a moment he turned to Aragorn sitting beside him. It was early morning still. A fog blanketed the hills of Rohan spread out before them as they sat on the steps of Meduseld, Aragorn cradling a cup of steaming tea.

"My mind is heavy of late."

Aragorn frowned.

"The darkness of Mordor?"

Legolas shook his head. Oh if only it were that simple.

"Nay. Not a darkness at all really."

"And yet your mind is weighted with it."

Legolas nodded and said nothing. What Aragorn said next however almost had him falling off his step.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with the Lady Dawn would it?"

Legolas almost suffered whiplash he looked up so fast. The look Aragorn had pinned on him was far from helpful. Somewhere between amusement and pity. Legolas sighed again.

"I cannot pry her from my thoughts."

Much to Legolas' annoyance Aragorn chuckled then, taking a sip of his tea. He seemed to notice his irritation however because his tone when he next spoke was conciliatory.

"I know what it is that ails you my friend. I know it well. But this knowledge I will not impart. It is something, I think, each man must discover on his own."

If anything Legolas' scowl deepened.

"That and the object of your thoughts is at this very moment, heading this way."

Legolas felt his stomach do a little twist as he turned and saw Dawn and Merry making their way down the stairs behind them. It was only as they got closer that he noticed the look on Dawn's face. He was on his feet before she'd halted.

"Are you okay?"

The haunted look she turned on him was anything but.

"Yeah."

"No, she's not," Merry spoke up from beside her suddenly.

"Merry!"

Merry continued like she hadn't spoken.

"She had a nightmare. A nightmare about Frodo."

Legolas' eyes widened as Aragorn nearly choked on his tea beside him.

"What?" Aragorn spluttered.

Dawn turned her eyes to him.

"You need to tell me about the ring. You need to tell me everything."

------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time Aragorn finished his tale Dawn's head was buzzing. And yet there was just one thing…

"What about the girl?"

Aragorn frowned.

"What girl?"

"The girl who gave her blood. The daughter. Saruman told me about her," she said, an edge of desperation clawing at her voice.

Legolas looked at her darkly, obviously drawn back to the events at the white tower.

"You mustn't heed any words from the mouth of Saruman."

Dawn felt like screaming.

"I know I shouldn't but…It makes sense don't you see? The girl is me! Or like me or something. Her blood helped forge the ring and now I'm connected to it somehow. That's why I'm here! That's why I didn't die. That's why I can feel it-"

"Dawn-"

"No!" she cried, lunging to her feet and glaring down at them franticly. "It fits! It all fits!"

"Dawn."

Dawn stopped, sucking in a deep gulping breath as she stared down at Aragorn. She could feel frustrated tears starting to prick the back of her eyes.

"Dawn," Aragorn said again, "All Saruman said to you, all of it – would have been in service of his own desires. He wanted something from you. That's all."

Dawn opened her mouth to argue again before the memory of the conversation came back to her once more.

_...and yet, it would calm my heart more to wield a ring to my own image rather than that of the dark lord's…_

He'd wanted a ring of his own. And he'd known what she was. Probably not exactly but he'd known she had power. It was all just another manipulation. But it had made so much sense…

Dawn turned away from the group, fixing her eyes on the mountainous horizon and trying to blink the tears from her eyes. That's when she saw it.

"Hey guys? Should the mountain be on fire?"

------------------------------------------------------------------

Dawn strapped the hilt of Boromir's sword to her saddle, watching as Eowyn did the same beside her. Unlike her however, Dawn didn't bother to hide her blade. She had a feeling if Aragorn had meant for her not to use it he would not have given it back to her the day before. Apparently he'd had it on him ever since Isengard – the cloth bundle Dawn had knocked from the tower during her struggle with Saruman.

Dawn sighed.

"It seems that as soon as you get back from one journey around here you're back to packing for another one," she groused.

Eowyn smiled beside her.

"Cheer up. At least this time you have your own horse."

Dawn looked at the surly beast she was packing. It glared back. The coming war had seen the stables, usually choc full of beautiful placid creatures, emptied out as all the men took just about every horse fit for travel. Dawn had been left with Mildred – a churlish bitch of a mare that would bite you as soon as carry you. She was actually quite a beautiful animal to look at. A deep russet coat and dark expressive eyes made her the pick of the bunch from afar. It was just when you got up close and she tried to kick you that you got a bit weary.

"We ride within the hour! Ready yourselves!"

Dawn looked up as Eomer passed them, bellowing at all and sundry to get a move on. She turned to Eowyn.

"Is he always like this?"

Eowyn smiled a little sadly as she watched her brother march among the men.

"With Theodred passed he is now the next in line after my uncle. Give him time to find his place."

Dawn nodded slightly as she tightened the last strap on the saddle with a swoosh. Mildred stamped her foot and Dawn stepped back hurriedly, well aware that a kick usually followed the action. Unfortunately she stepped straight on top of someone behind her. There was an interesting scuffle for a moment in which both parties tried to stay upright while trying to aid the other as well. Somehow the end result found Dawn nose to nose with the accosted. Legolas stared back. For a full second nothing happened and the two of them stood just staring at each other. Then, like clockwork, they both blinked and dropped their arms, stepping away from each other in tandem. Neither one noticed the other's blush.

"Sorry," Dawn said quickly. "My horse scared me."

As soon as the words were passed her lips Dawn wanted to sink into the ground. Her horse scared her? How pathetic could she get?

She watched as Legolas looked over her shoulder to where the beastly Mildred was still standing. From the look on his face the mare was still glaring as mean as ever.

"I ah, came to see if you needed aid with packing."

Dawn looked anywhere but at him, biting her lip.

"Um no…no I think I'm done. Thank you."

"Very well."

"Okay."

"Okay."

There was a pause in which Dawn dared a look up at Legolas' face. He had the strangest look about him. Almost…a nervousness.

"Well, I must go and see to Arod."

Dawn nodded.

"Okay."

"Okay."

Another awkward pause before Legolas bowed shortly to her and then to Eowyn.

"My ladies."

Dawn watched as he walked briskly off before turning to Eowyn. That was the moment Eowyn chose to crack up laughing.

------------------------------------------------------------------

The journey to the White Mountains passed relatively eventless. Dawn spent much of her time with Eowyn, Merry and Haldir. Dawn had been surprised when Haldir had opted to travel with the men of Rohan to war. When she finally brought it up with him his answer was almost more curious than his actions.

"Why did you decide to come? You've already stayed on far longer than the rest of your people – they went home right after Helms Deep didn't they?"

Haldir nodded lightly.

"You were taken from my side at Helms Deep. I wished to make sure you were safe before I returned to Lorien."

Dawn nodded. She was so used to people worrying after her safety now she barely gave such comments a second thought. She'd considered the anomaly late one night not long after the whole Saruman fiasco. The best she could guess is that the monks had somehow thrown in some 'take care of me' vibe when they were putting her together. Whatever it was it seemed to work.

"And now? Why go to war?"

Haldir fixed her with the strangest look then. Dawn didn't know what to make of it. She barely caught the next words from his mouth.

"She must fall," he said quietly, as if to himself.

Dawn frowned but before she could ask him what he meant the call went up from the front. They had reached the White Mountains.


	21. Split

Dawn looked up. And up…and up. Mountains could do that for you.

"We make camp upon the ledge," Théoden announced.

Dawn watched as the group they'd been travelling with for the past few days split in two. The soldiers made their way across the plain they'd just arrived at, jumping down from horses and beginning their organisation while the more royal party headed toward a steep path hewn out of the side of the mountain leading upwards. Dawn was forced to dismount like everyone else when she reached the foot of the path as it was too narrow for a mounted rider. This was mildly annoying as it meant she had to lead Mildred up, stepping carefully and hoping whoever was behind them had enough sense to stay out of range of Mildred's kicks.

More than a few soldiers swallowed nervously on the way up. Not that Dawn could blame them – with hard mountain on one side and empty space just a foot or two on the other, the way didn't exactly have the safest feeling. It was funny though. Even though Dawn knew this, even though the sensible part of her was saying she should probably be breaking out in a sweat when she looked at the steep drop, she actually felt fine. Better than fine really.

On the way up she found herself trailing her hand along the hard stone of the mountain at her side and smiling faintly. There was something – something about this place.

The royal party reached the ledge Théoden had spoken of and Dawn took in the vast expanse. When he'd said ledge Dawn had been put in mind of a small outcropping of rock on the mountain face but this was anything but. It was as if someone had carved a small island in the rock face and then thrown a layer of grass down. Dawn fell head over heels in love almost immediately.

The next few hours were passed setting up camp. Dawn had become almost good at it since landing in this world – she supposed it was due mostly to practice. Every now and again she would stop though and look up. It was strange but she couldn't seem to take her eyes off the distant peaks of the mountain-top above. Those who noticed her distraction told her not to worry – that the shadow of the mountain sent a shiver down the backs of the strongest men. And yet that was the strange thing. When Dawn gazed up at the mountain and pressed her hand against the cold stone she didn't feel fear as everyone else seemed to. Strange as it was, she felt like she'd come home.

When the camp was set and dinner set spitting over the fires Dawn, along with many others was left with very little to do. It was amazing how shiny swords became at times like these as men sat around absentmindedly rubbing a cloth over a blade. Dawn had spent most of her life polishing swords – mostly for someone else's use - so she didn't think much of sitting down now and joining the masses. Instead she headed for the wall of the mountain. She felt the need to explore pumping through her in an almost uncanny way.

She never even realised she was looking for something until she found it. A path. Well more of a road really. It cut right through the middle of the mountain. Shrouded in mist and practically dripping ominous tidings, Dawn had never seen a road look less inviting. And yet she itched to walk down it. She had taken the first steps before she even realised what she was doing.

"Lady Dawn?"

Dawn spun around guiltily and tried to look like she wasn't about to wonder into a big fat haunted crevice in the mountain. She didn't think Hama was all that convinced from the look on his face.

"Are you well?"

"Yup! Just dandy."

If she could have cringed at her words without looking more stupid, she would have. She watched as Hama's gaze flicked from her, to the path behind her and then back again.

"You would seek to walk the dead road?"

Anyone else would have said it accusingly or at least with a bit of suspicion. Hama made the question sound like he'd just asked her how the weather had been. Dawn glanced over her shoulder.

"No. Well yes. I don't know, where does it go?"

"To the dead," said Hama.

"Oh."

Dawn looked back towards the path.

"Well that would be why it's called the dead road then I guess."

The sheepish smile she turned back on the man was met with a seriousness Dawn honestly thought she should be used to by now considering who Hama was.

"Nothing living walks that way and survives," he said ominously.

"And that would be why I'm not walking down it see," she said, stepping around him. "All with the walking back to camp here."

She could practically feel the frown on her back as she walked away.

-----------------------------------------------

That night Dawn dreamed.

She ran along the path. It was so much fun. She knew everything. Every nook and every cranny. Jobas would never think to look for her where she was going. He was good, but not as good as her. She breathed the mountains. They were hers. She could hide forever if she wanted to.

If she wanted to –

- but the blood would give it away.

She watched as it dripped across her palms, snaking its way from her wrists through her fingers. The cuts were deep. She'd meant them to be. She would hide forever. She would hide and she would take him with her.

She laughed.

------------------------------------------------

Dawn stirred awake and blinked a few times in the light of the fire.

"You fell asleep."

Dawn lifted her head and turned blurry eyes on the figure beside her, the only other besides herself around the campfire. She assumed everyone else had been smart enough to make their way to a tent before passing out. Legolas looked back at her and Dawn felt her heart give a little wheeze as she noticed the fire was turning his eyes strange and hypnotically beautiful colours.

"Did you dream?"

Dawn nodded slightly as she sat up and stretched muscles that were obviously never going to become accustomed to sleeping on the ground. She noticed in passing that someone had folded up Legolas' cloak and placed it under her head. Three guesses who. She blushed.

"Yeah. It was weird. I was playing hide and seek…" she trailed off as her eyes slid automatically in the direction of the path through the mountain somewhere off to their right.

She didn't even realise she'd gone quiet until a cloak dropped around her shoulders and Legolas resumed his seat beside her. Some part of her couldn't help noticing that he was a little bit closer than before. For the longest moment the two of them just sat there in companionable silence before Dawn got up the courage to speak.

"I think…I think something's happening to me."

Legolas looked up at her in that way he had. He didn't say anything – that was perhaps the worst part. With him not talking you just sorta went right ahead and filled the silences yourself. Granted Dawn did think she needed to talk. It was just that…well Legolas seemed to know that too – and in his silence he seemed to be the one doing something about it. It was a confusing play. Dawn could only assume it was an elf thing.

"I don't know what to think anymore. Me being here, the fighting, all of it. I don't know what it means. And now these dreams. Legolas I could swear I've been here before."

Legolas frowned.

"In Middle Earth?"

"No. Well yes but…these mountains," Dawn swept her arm around their camp, "I know this. I can feel it."

"How is that possible?"

Dawn opened her mouth and paused. It was the right on the tip of her tongue. 'Well Legolas, what you don't know yet is that I'm the Key, a big green thing used in my world to break down the barriers between realities and basically bring about the end of the world. Now I suspect that the me that's a big ball of green energy was here once, long ago in another girl that made a big boo-boo and helped give the big evil guy a way to take over the world. I suspect that she lived here in these mountains. And wouldn't you know it? I'm getting the really strong impression that she killed herself.'

"I don't know," Dawn said.

Legolas looked at her in that annoying way of his again. Dawn dropped her eyes to her lap to avoid it.

For the longest few moments everything was silence. Dawn sat, poking at the fire with a stick, feeling the weight of it all too well. She hated secrets. They hurt. It didn't matter the reasons or how good the intentions were in the first place – when everything came out it all usually went to hell.

"I…" Legolas faltered. That alone was enough to make Dawn look up. Legolas never faltered. When he spoke he did so with his eyes fixed firmly on the fire.

"You once spoke of feeling safe with me. I would have you know that I would do anything within my power to keep it that way." He looked up then and met her eyes. "I will never let anything happen to you."

Dawn could have sworn her heart stopped. Without a word Legolas rose gracefully to his feet and disappeared into the darkness. For the longest time Dawn just sat there, mid-poke, staring at where Legolas had been. Then of course the fire climbed its way up the stick and singed her fingers.

--------------------------------------------------------------

It was as she was making her way towards the tent she was sharing with Eowyn that she saw it. A shadow making its way up the mountain side. For a brief moment she was uncertain whether she should tell someone but it took only a brief glance around to tell her she didn't have to. She wasn't the only one up late – far from it, most of the camp seemed lively. Two sentries had already seen the cloaked figure and were getting all pumped up to meet it. Dawn left them to it, too tired to care what new tid-bit of information this messenger had. She likely wouldn't be allowed to hear it anyway. Despite her little performance at Helms Deep the king still hadn't gotten over his little 'men's business' stint.

When she pushed open the flap of her tent she was only mildly surprised to see Eowyn was still out. She wondered idly where she might be but only for the length of time it took to get changed and fall onto her cot. Strange dreams really did nothing for the rest aspects of sleep. She was exhausted.

Of course she was woken up only a few hours later. The laws of irony demanded it. Those that needed sleep the most just did not get it. It was Eowyn who woke her. Dawn would have growled at her but for it being the shield-maiden's crying that had stirred her in the first place.

"Eowyn?"

A sob cut off with a mild hiccup.

"Eowyn, what's wrong?"

"I-it's nothing Dawn. Please go back to sleep."

"It's not nothing," Dawn said sitting up. "You're crying."

"I'm just being stupid."

"About what?"

"About the L-Lord Aragorn."

Oh boy. Sometimes Dawn just hated being a girl. She was willing to bet guys didn't need to deal with this stuff. Well they did she supposed. She just figured their way of cheering up a crushed friend was to slap each other on the back and go get drunk. There would probably be grunting too she supposed. There was always grunting with guys.

Climbing out of bed and putting away any silly notions of rest for the night she made her way over to Eowyn's cot and sat down beside her. A customary arm around the shoulders later she asked her the needed question.

"What happened?"

It took about half an hour in all for the woman to spill it all. Aragorn had only said one thing really but in a situation like this there was a lot of pausing to blow noses and the like. Plus Eowyn had a lot of sentences beginning with 'But I thought maybe…' to get out of her system. Dawn sat beside her and listened, nodding at the appropriate intervals and rubbing circles on her friends back. It was about all she could do. She'd seen this coming a mile off. She was just glad it wasn't as bad as she thought it was going to be. At least now it was over. Eowyn could get over it and move on. And Aragorn could…hold the phone…

Dawn sat up suddenly.

"Repeat that last bit again."

Eowyn looked mildly shocked for a moment before something seemed to filter past the Aragorn-induced fog.

"T-they're gone…"

For a full moment Dawn sat trying to process what was going on.

"They didn't tell you." It wasn't a question. The silence stretched as Dawn swelled up like a bullfrog.

"I'll kill them."

Eowyn opened her mouth to say something but never got the chance as Dawn leaped to her feet and headed for her pack.

"I'll find them and I'll kill them."

Eowyn could only watch helplessly as Dawn ripped around the tent gathering her belongings.

"Dawn, they left over an hour and a half ago. You couldn't catch them-"

"Oh I'll catch them. You watch me. I'll catch them so bad they won't know which way their heads are on anymore."

Eowyn opened her mouth.

"And no you can't come with me," Dawn interrupted. Eowyn blinked. For the first time since the news had been broken Dawn grinned a little. "I know you were going to ask."

"I probably would have eventually yes," Eowyn conceded. Dawn slung her pack over her shoulder and stepped in to hug Eowyn.

"You're needed here. These men aren't going to win this war on their own."

Dawn had known of Eowyn's plan to fight since they'd left. Her own plan had been left rather unclear. She had been waiting to be faced with the decision of following Eowyn into disguise or sitting out not knowing what she was going to do. Now it didn't much matter.

Stepping back, Dawn hefted her pack more securely over her shoulder. Eowyn nodded.

"Be safe Dawn."

"You too."

It was a brief and swift goodbye. As Dawn hurried from the tent she found a treacherous part of her mind wondering if she was ever going to see Eowyn again. She shut it down fairly quickly though. Of course she would see her. She had to. Dawn was almost to the crevice un-bothered when a shadow stepped out from behind a tent and resolved itself into Haldir.

"I thought you would come."

Dawn almost rolled her eyes. Of course he did.

"Well here I am."

For a second Haldir simply looked at her in that way he had. You couldn't call it blank because you knew that there was a lot going on in his head but his face just wasn't giving any of it away.

"It is dangerous."

"I know."

"You may not return."

"I know."

"I will accompany you."

"No."

Haldir blinked in much the same way Eowyn had.

"You can't," Dawn struggled to find the words to explain why but she couldn't seem to grasp them. "I…I just need to do this alone. Please. I know what I'm doing."

It was ridiculous and about as un-reassuring as you could get. Which was why Dawn was surprised when, after a moment, Haldir nodded.

"We will meet again tinu."

Dawn was still trying to get over how easy her getaway had just been.

"Ah…okay."

"Keep a steady, fast pace. The mountain is treacherous. Keep your footing and know you're objective and you will find them."

Dawn nodded at the words and then, on a complete whim stepped forward and gave Haldir a short hug. She immediately regretted it of course because Haldir was just not someone you hugged. Even so, he did try and pat her on the back, however uncomfortably. Dawn pulled back and grinned at the stoic expression on his face.

"Keep an eye on Eowyn and Merry for me will you?"

Haldir frowned.

"I will be fighting in the battle Lady Dawn."

Dawn grinned secretively.

"I know. Just keep an eye on them okay? I'll see you 'round."

With one last smile she turned back toward the Dead Road. The path stretched out before her, as ominous and misty as ever. Dawn took a deep breath and stepped forward. 


	22. The Dead

Looking down the path and actually walking it turned out to be two very different creatures. Dawn had felt a sense of belonging on the ledge and seeing the path for the first time had caused a slight tug of joy in her heart. Stepping into the shadow of the mountain though, while still familiar, was amazingly unsettling. It was like coming home to find your house robbed. Everything was askew – the feeling was all wrong. It was too…cold.

Haldir's parting words began to make a whole lot of sense as soon as she was out of sight of the opening. If she wasn't careful and didn't keep her mind on where she was going her feet tended to turn her in strange directions. A mist hung over everything, giving the jagged rocks a deceptively soft look. Even when dawn broke the hills the place still kept its eerie quality.

Dawn made her way quickly down the path despite the places tricks. Her still-fuming anger at Aragorn and the others for leaving without even so much as a goodbye served as a good point of focus to keep her mind pointing her in the right direction. She still couldn't believe they'd done it. Well actually she could kind of speculate on Aragorn's train of thought. The daft bastard had probably thought he was keeping her safe leaving her behind. And if she was him she wouldn't have said goodbye to her either because she would have found some way to needle her way into going. Gimli – well Gimli didn't really strike her as one to care who he said goodbye to when there was a quest ahead of him. The dwarf liked danger a little too much in Dawn's opinion. So really, she couldn't blame the two of them for leaving. She could get bloody obnoxiously angry but she couldn't blame them. But Legolas…

Dawn took a deep breath as she hurried down the path, trying to convince herself that the sudden welling in her eyes was due to the mist.

Not three hours ago, Legolas had sat beside her telling her he would take care of her. That he wouldn't let her be hurt if he could help it. Well a damn help he was likely to be if he wasn't even there. It was irrational Dawn knew – usually she hated people trying to protect her. God knew how much she'd complained about it whenever her sister stepped in. But with Legolas…Oh god, she didn't know. It-it made her feel better knowing he was there. Knowing he was with her.

He – and Dawn blinked rapidly at this point, damn mist – he hadn't even said goodbye. He hadn't cared enough to…

No. She was not thinking about this anymore. Just because the stupid elf had left without a goodbye and just because her heart seemed to constrict a little bit whenever she thought of it…it wasn't an excuse to go all weak. On the contrary – she planned on being very strong when she kicked him in his perfect elven arse.

Dawn rounded a blind corner at a solid stomp and almost tripped over herself she stopped so suddenly. The little girl blinked up at her.

"Hello."

She was small, with dark hair and rather wide blue eyes. Dawn felt a very real shiver prickle down her back.

"Ah…Hello," she said back.

"You're going the wrong way," the little girl said matter-of-factly.

Dawn blinked down at her.

"What other way is there?"

The little girl pointed behind her and Dawn turned. Huh. She could have sworn that was solid rock a moment ago.

"Come on. I'll show you the best hiding spot."

With no further ado the little girl rushed down the new path. Dawn didn't even think about it as she started after her.

"Hey…wait!"

Looking back later at the chase through the mountain Dawn would be surprised with how little she could remember. She would know she'd been running. And she would be able to vaguely recall the shape of the girl flitting ahead of her. But looking back at it would be like looking back at a dream. Bit's and pieces. Shards and shapes. And then the moment you wake up.

Dawn swung around a corner and for a brief moment everything seemed to slow down just that little bit. The little girl ran ahead of her, blurring a little at the edges as she neared the doorway. It was hewn straight out of the rock face, intricately carved and meticulously detailed. As the little girl drew near the great wooden panel serving as a door opened inward and a man appeared. Dawn didn't know how to begin to describe him. Much the same way a person doesn't know where to begin to describe a sibling. It's a face they see every day. They aught to know every detail but familiarity has made them lax.

The little girl didn't slow her pace and the man crouched down with a smile on his lined face as he scooped her up into his arms. All at once the scene vanished.

Dawn blinked.

Okay. Only a little strange. She felt weird. Almost like she'd been watching everything with her eyes crossed and had only just thought to uncross them. The girl was gone, as was the man. The doorway was – Dawn shivered – well it was still there. Dawn approached the yawning hole in the rock cautiously. The wooden door was non-existent. The carvings, if they'd ever been there in the first place, were now covered over with slabs of rock and…yes, skulls. Dawn almost groaned. Things didn't ever go well when there were skulls. There was also what she could only assume was writing above the entrance. She didn't bother trying to read it. Noting the theme of the area it was probably just a warning label anyway.

Dawn took a deep breath as the peered into the darkness. Something along the lines of 'Ah well, she'd come this far' was rallying in her brain. Somehow, as she stepped between the skulls, that didn't make her feel any better.

--------------------------------------------

Legolas had never felt so threatened. The dead surrounded him on all four sides and he had nothing – could do nothing if they intended to do him harm. The dead King had not stopped smiling – not since recovering from the shock of finding himself faced with the heir to the throne of Gondor. It was unsettling. And worrying. Legolas couldn't help but think that if he was taking Aragorn's offer seriously he would not be wearing such an expression. It was at times like this he really hoped Aragorn knew what he was doing.

"I am Isildur's heir. Fight for me and I will hold your oaths fulfilled. What say you?"

It was the third time he'd asked and the third time Legolas held his breath for the answer. For the longest moment there was simply silence.

And then a scream echoed around the cavern. A very familiar scream. Legolas' heart leaped to about throat height.

"Dawn!"

No sooner had he said her name she staggered into their circle, the dead closing in ranks behind her, their herding done. Legolas took a step towards her but he needn't have bothered, she was already backing so hard away from the dead she ran into him anyway. At this she loosed another scream and turned on him, batting at him ridiculously with her hands.

"Dawn! Dawn it's me!"

It took her only a moment to stop trying to slap her way out of the situation and when she did Legolas couldn't help but notice how hard she was shaking. She stood in front of him, her hands clutching his shirt as she struggled to catch her breath. Legolas took a moment to just look at her. A few hours ago, as he'd stepped onto the dead road he hadn't been particularly sure he was ever going to see her again. He hadn't been able to face how that made him feel but inexplicably the sight of her pale and terrified here in front of him now loosened something inside of him he hadn't even noticed tightening. Of course the fact that she was now in as much danger as the rest of them put a bit of a stain on things.

"Dawn? What are you doing here?"

"Dah. I followed you."

Legolas almost rolled his eyes. Even traumatised she could be sarcastic. And stubborn. Damn her they'd left her behind for a reason. He'd left her. She was safe there. Out of the war and certainly not following him into uncertain situations that would likely result in death.

"You should not have come."

He knew it was the wrong thing to say the moment he said it. Dawn stopped shaking.

"I should not have come?"

Legolas knew he didn't want to look down but did so anyway. If it weren't for the tight – and suddenly tighter – hold Dawn had on his shirt he would have taken a step back. Suddenly the dead were looking very friendly.

"How dare you…"

----------------------------------------

The Dead King had seen a lot in his day. He'd seen quite a bit after it too. Never before though had he seen one of the elf-kind grow so small before a daughter of man.

"You left me! You just left me there! You didn't even – I can't believe I trusted – You told me! What you said! And I believed you!-"

It was very obviously an argument with a very specific context but though the King had no idea what was making the girl so vocal it didn't stop him enjoying the show any less. He hadn't been this entertained in a good two thousand years. Of course that's when the girl got a good shove in with the elf and suddenly he had an unobscured look at her face.

No.

Not again.

-----------------------------------------

Dawn was at that horrible stage between screaming and crying. She was terrified. She was hurt. She was angry. And right now she was taking it all out on Legolas.

"But then you just – and you told me you would – you helped – but then you -"

Somewhere along the line she'd also lost the ability to complete a sentence. It was a strange sensation being this out of control. She'd thrown tantrums before, she was a sixteen year old girl after all, but nothing like this. It felt heavy and horrible in her system. And it was building up. To what she had no idea. But she had this horrible feeling she was going to end up in a sobbing puddle on the ground very soon.

The dread must have been what did it. She did not want to end up pathetic and in the dirt so her body came up with the next best thing – upright and guilty.

She shoved him. She didn't mean to. And it wasn't really all that hard. But she did it. She honestly didn't know who was more shocked – her or him.

For the longest moment they just stood there facing each other with a good three-foot gap between them, him looking shell-shocked and her panting. Silence stretched throughout the cavern. Even the dead seemed to be stuck in the paralysing aftermath of the blow out. It was Aragorn who finally broke the silence. Clearing his throat he turned back to the Dead King.

"Um. What say you?"

------------------------------------------

Dawn was feeling rather wretched as the group set up camp. They'd made it through the mountains and out the other side onto the banks of a river Dawn couldn't pronounce, the Dead dogging their heels the whole way. After Aragorn's final question following her meltdown the King had agreed to fight. Dawn had only partially noticed the agreement – still in shock at her own actions at the time. She would have been surprised if Legolas had heard anything at all. She couldn't seem to get the look on his face out of her mind. She half thought kicking a puppy would have been easier to deal with. At least she could have apologised to a puppy, there was a mad sort of righteous pride keeping her from the action with Legolas.

Actually it seemed to be keeping her from speaking to anyone full stop. She hadn't said a word to the group since their meeting up. She hated it but at the same time she couldn't seem to help herself. Aragorn had tried a couple of times to speak to her on their way out of the mountain but her resolute forward glare and quickening step had cut him off fairly well. Gimli…well Gimli was Gimli. Though Dawn took a perverse kind of pleasure in noting he seemed a little less brave when around her recently.

All in all, Dawn was miserable. But she'd now made quite sure she was no longer the only one so…well, she aught to be feeling better any moment now.

Dawn threw down her bed-roll with a bit of a huff before looking around a moment and dragging it a little way away from the camp. If she was going to sulk she was going to do a damn good job of it. Sleeping away from everyone else seemed to be appropriate. Of course it took her closer to the camp of glowing dead not far away but what the hell. She was a pissed off teenager dammit, rationality wasn't supposed to enter the equation.

If the others noticed her choice of sleeping spot they didn't say anything. Though she could have sworn Legolas paused a tiny bit before laying down near the fire. Before she really knew it, everyone had settled down and she was left, staring up at the stars and trying to fall-asleep around the tears trekking across her temples.

It was two hours of this before she gave up. Sleep was for happy people obviously.

Trying to make as little noise as possible she got to her feet and headed down towards the water. Splashing a handful of freezing water on her face wasn't really as refreshing as she thought it was going to be, though it did get rid of the stretched feeling around her eyes from crying too much. Oh she hated this. When she'd set out she'd been all full of righteous anger, ready to kick some serious butt. When exactly had that turned into a feeling of wanting the ground to open up and swallow her?

Lost in her thoughts, Dawn didn't notice that she was staring at her faintly rippled reflection in the water. Not until another, slightly glowing one appeared beside it. Dawn yelped, falling un-gracefully on her butt in the mud. One of the dead smiled down at her sheepishly.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

Dawn blinked up at the apparition. He was young - or he had been when he died she supposed – around his early twenties if she was any judge. He was also looking down at her in very real apology. It was funny. Dawn had never really connected the dead as individual people before. They'd just been one big glowing green mass intent on terrifying her. This guy though…well, okay, he was still terrifying what with the dissolved flesh and occasional flashes of ethereal bone but…well it was hard to be one-hundred percent horrified at someone who was offering a hand to you in the mud.

Dawn hesitated only a moment before taking the offered appendage and allowing the ghost to pull her to her feet. His hand was surprisingly solid in hers, if a bit cold and tingly.

"My name is Jo," The ghost said conversationally. Dawn couldn't help but notice how much of his jaw she could see when he spoke. She cleared her throat.

"I'm Dawn. Nice to, ah meet you."

Jo smiled, showing his teeth…all of them. Dawn just stared for a moment before realising he'd asked a question.

"I'm sorry what?"

"I asked what you were doing up so late my Lady."

Dawn frowned, throwing a glance back to her campfire.

"Um. Sort of a long story."

"Something to do with the very vocal meeting with your companions this afternoon I presume?"

The effect of the reminder must have shown on her face because Jo took a step back.

"I'm sorry, I'm intruding."

"Oh no," Dawn said hurriedly. As surreal as it was she actually found herself liking Jo. First impressions-wise he seemed a nice sort of guy. Dead obviously, but then with her life she probably shouldn't have been all that surprised. Plus it was nice to talk to someone, if only because it distracted her. "It's okay. It's just…"

"A long story?" Jo supplied helpfully. Dawn smiled a little sheepishly.

"Long and…sort of complicated."

"Ah," Jo said with a flourish. "One of those."

Dawn grinned a little at the twinkle in his eye as he offered her his arm like he was some sort of English Royal.

"Well, it's far too late for talks such as that so we shall just have to find something meaningless to pass our time with," he said mock-flippantly as she took his offered arm, feeling very conscious of the fact her elbow now felt like she'd dipped it in a barrel of cool water.

"Tell me, my Lady Dawn," Jo said quite seriously as they set off. "Do you like cheese?"

Oh yeah. She liked Jo.

---------------------------------------------

They travelled hard and fast during the days, always with the river at their side. Dawn got the feeling they were looking for something. Every now and then Aragorn would say something to Legolas and the elf would disappear for a time before reappearing and shaking his head. Dawn still hadn't gotten up the courage to speak to anyone yet and so had no idea what was going on. It was a daily struggle now between her curiosity to know what was happening and her stubbornness to continue ignoring everybody. Well, everybody living anyway.

She and Jo had become practically inseparable. He was the perfect companion for her current state of mind – always keeping her distracted and trying to make her laugh. In a lot of ways he sort of reminded her of Xander though perhaps a little less goofy and a lot more…well…dead. She'd brought the subject of Jo's state up only once in their conversations. The haunted look on his face when he'd spoken of the curse was enough to keep her from venturing anywhere near that territory again.

She couldn't imagine what it would be like, trapped that way for over two thousand years. All for not fighting when they said they would. Dawn had asked why of course, why they'd turned from the battle. She'd never got an answer though. Jo had just looked at her for a moment, almost like he was seeing someone completely different and then had smiled a little painfully. 'It's one of those long and complicated things,' he'd said and Dawn had taken the hint.

That was two days ago now and the two of them had since stayed away from any subject with even a hint of seriousness involved. It was nice and easy and above all distracting. In the back of her mind Dawn knew it couldn't go on forever but for now she was just happy to not be staring at the back of Legolas' head and wishing she could get up the courage to say sorry.

"And thus my point is proven, bacon truly is the superior meat," Jo announced as they drew near the next rise.

"And yet I still fall on the side of chicken," Dawn grinned.

Jo shook his head sadly, as though he'd just heard the gravest of news.

"Ah, my Lady Dawn, you are a disappointment to us all."

Dawn laughed as they hit the bottom of the incline and started up it. Looking back, a smile still on her face, she watched as the sea of ghosts washed up behind them. She and Jo always walked alone, mid-way between Aragorn and the others leading the way and the Dead walking behind. It was a conspicuous position but Dawn didn't really mind.

Well, most of the time she didn't mind.

Dawn swallowed and turned back to the front. The Dead King was staring at her again. She'd caught him at it a few times, usually when she least expected it and mostly when she was talking to Jo. She hadn't said anything mostly because she had no idea how to broach the subject. Plus she had a slightly manic hope that she was wrong. Cause it was creepy if she wasn't. What the hell cause would a dead King have to stare at her for?

"Do you ever get the feeling you're being watched," Jo said suddenly from beside her.

Dawn almost swallowed her tongue in her relief. Oh thank god he'd noticed. But when she turned back to him he wasn't looking behind them. No, he was looking straight ahead, at the back of a certain elf. Dawn frowned.

"Every time you laugh Dawn, I get a glare," Jo explained, looking down at her. "You haven't noticed?"

Dawn didn't know what to say. She shook her head.

"No. I mean I don't know why he would…" Dawn trailed off. Legolas was glaring at Jo?

"If I didn't know any better I'd say someone was jealous," Jo said simply. Dawn could feel her mouth going at goldfish level. Looking up at Jo there was no teasing in his eyes. If anything he seemed to be gauging her reaction. It was a strange sensation to have something like this sprung on her by a guy with whom she was debating the merits of meats a moment ago. Before she could recover enough to rally a good defence a shout went up from ahead.

Dawn looked up to see Legolas already at the top of the rise, beckoning to Aragorn and then pointing out towards the river, back the way they'd come. Dawn turned following his gesture and after squinting a little could just make out a number of dark shapes on the water. A number of dark shapes with serrated black sails. Okay, maybe it was about time she found out what was going on. 


	23. A Hand

Legolas was going mad. It was the only explanation. Why else would his concentration falter so? Why else would his eyes, charged with watching the horizon for the black ships, be constantly dragged back towards the pair walking behind them? Why else would his hands itch for a weapon every time he heard the Lady Dawn laugh at something the dead man said?

It had to be madness. He'd never felt so without control. Truth be told, he was actually rather relieved when the black sails appeared on the river. If nothing else the hours to come would provide a distraction. What he hadn't counted on was the Lady Dawn's curiosity finally getting the better of her angered silence. He watched with a tangled sort of dreadful excitement as she approached their group. Moments before Aragorn had been laying down a plan to ambush the ships but all of a sudden Legolas couldn't for the life of him remember what he'd been saying.

"Okay. What's the deal?"

The question was directed at Aragorn. Legolas couldn't help noticing she seemed very intent on looking at no one but the ranger as well.

"Pardon Lady?" said Aragorn. If he was surprised at the interruption he didn't show it.

"The deal," Dawn snapped, waving a hand towards the distant ships. "Why are we having kittens at the sight of ugly ships?"

For a full moment everyone just stared at her in silence. Legolas didn't think any of them were ever going to get used to her speech patterns.

"The ships," Aragorn finally started. "Are Mordor's reinforcements in the coming battle against Minis Tirith."

Legolas watched as Dawn's eyes narrowed and she turned back to gaze out at the approaching fleet.

"Okay. So how are we stopping them then?"

-----------------------------------------------------------

Dawn crouched low and peered around the boulder. Night had fallen during the long wait for the ships to draw level with them but even so, she didn't need to strain her eyes to see the oncoming fleet. They were now almost close enough to count the planks in their hulls. Dawn shifted her weight and shot a glance over to the larger boulder off to her right. Behind this one Legolas and Gimli crouched low, watching the approaching sails much as she was.

She hadn't said a word to him. Hell, she'd barely even looked at him. She was feeling as wretched as ever and was just as oblivious of how she could fix it. Logically she knew it should start with an apology but logic seemed to have gone on holiday around her lately. She just couldn't seem to make herself say the words. It was infuriating. Even more so because they were supposed to be working together to win a war.

Okay, yeah her life wasn't complicated.

Dawn caught herself rolling her eyes at her thoughts. Good lord she needed to start socialising again. She was one step away from talking to herself for god's sake.

Then again she was crouched behind a boulder waiting to attack a fleet of ships with an elf, a dwarf and a future king. Maybe she should just give in and reach for the straight jacket while she still could.

A shifting of movement aboard the lead ship brought her quite roughly out of her inner musings. Dawn watched as a rabble of, what she could only call pirates, appeared on the deck jeering and shouting as they moved steadily towards the mast. She felt rather than saw Aragorn appear beside her.

"This does not look good," she whispered. No sooner had she said it her suspicions were confirmed. The group broke away from the mast, their task completed. Left behind was a tall, long-haired figure, his hands bound together and over his head. Dawn didn't even need to see his ears to know. Despite his situation, his bearing almost immediately gave it away. Only an elf could manage to look graceful while being tied to a pole.

She heard Aragorn's sharp intake of breath beside her and glanced at him. Stricken didn't even begin to describe the look on his face.

"You know him," she said plainly. It wasn't a question. Very suddenly the boulder became very crowded as Legolas and Gimli crouched in with them. The look on Legolas' face very closely resembled Aragorn's own.

"Elrohir. How..." Legolas trailed off as Aragorn shook his head.

"I know not. When last I left him he was still riding with the Dúnedain," said Aragorn.

"Well hows about we worry about the how later and get to the rescue. We need a new plan and we need one fast," Dawn whispered hurriedly.

"I don't see much wrong with the old one meself," Gimli said gruffly. Dawn very nearly rolled her eyes.

"Oh yes, we'll go in guns blazing. I'm sure their first move won't be to use their very handy hostage," she said sarcastically. Despite the twentieth century jargon she obviously got her point across because Aragorn nodded.

"Dawn is right. We need to get to Elrohir first," he said decidedly throwing a glance over his shoulder down the hill that led away from the river. They'd left the dead army at the bottom of the embankment in an effort to keep their ambush, well, an ambush. As it turned out, once called by the King of Gondor, the dead remained corporeal until their service was completed. Which sucked rather more now that it appeared they were going to need stealth to board the ships and make sure the captive elf didn't get skewered in the process.

"So new plan," Dawn said urgently as the ships sailed ever closer. They had almost no time before they were on top of them.

"We must get to Elrohir before the ambush," Aragorn said gruffly and Dawn almost smiled. Aragorn worked in much the way Giles used to when coming up with a plan – stating the facts before working through them.

"We swim out?" Dawn suggested. "Board the ships from the other side while the dead attack from here?"

She would have had to have been dead herself to miss Legolas' falter next to her.

"What?" she asked as Aragorn shot him a slight look. "Did I miss something?"

Aragorn cleared his throat almost uncomfortably.

"Elf kind do not do well in water Lady Dawn," he explained quietly. For a full second Dawn just gaped at Legolas as the elf strove to look anywhere but at her. He couldn't swim? He could shoot an arrow into an apple at forty billion yards but he couldn't fricking swim? Where was the logic in that?

"Oh," she said weakly, before mentally shaking herself. "Well, it's still a good plan. The three of us will-"

The sudden clearing of a throat cut her off mid sentence.

"Ah...that would be the two of you," Gimli said gruffly. Dawn just stared as he too avoided her eyes. Spinning around she pinned Aragorn with a determined glare. "Can you swim? Or am I wasting my breath?"

She almost missed the upward twitch of his lips as he nodded.

"I can swim."

--------------------------------------------------

Dawn took a deep breath and stepped further into the river, bringing the water level up to her waist. God she had known the water was going to be cold but this was just a little ridiculous. Her teeth were chattering so hard she had to grit her teeth to keep the sound from carrying. She was actually fairly amazed the ships hadn't already heard her strangled gasp the moment she put a foot in the water – they certainly seemed close enough to have. Dawn swallowed heavily as another small wave buffeted her against the shore, the first of the ships cutting through the darkness not even fifty feet in front of her.

God whose idea was this?

Dawn shot a glance to her right to where Aragorn too was wading in, his breeches already plastered to his legs, his under-tunic very clearly not up to the task of keeping him warm. Dawn too was stripped down to the absolute minimum. Well, absolute minimum for this prudish universe anyway. She'd yanked the heavy over-dress part of her travelling ensemble over her head without a second thought back on shore and had been all ready to ditch the under-part too leaving her in breeches and her hastily repaired camisole top but a slight strangling noise from Legolas and Aragorn's uncomfortable assurances that 'you shall be fine swimming in that my Lady' had halted her. Dawn had just rolled her eyes. The way the current now seemed to be pulling at the shift making it seem about five times heavier made her wish she'd put her foot down. Knowing her luck she'd be dragged under by her clothing before she even reached the damn ships.

Dawn sucked in another hasty breath as another wave hit her, this time at chest height. Had she mentioned it was cold? Clenching her jaw for all it was worth she glanced again to Aragorn who was watching the ships for an opening. For their plan to work they had to board the ship holding Elrohir from the opposite side of the bank which meant they had to cross the river through the fleet. Even with the ships moving as slow as they were it was going to be a feat and a half. A lot was going to rely on luck. Even as she thought it she saw Aragorn stiffen and following his line of sight she saw what he had. An opening. One of the ships, about three up from their target was lagging, widening an already substantial gap between it and the ship in front of it. It was going to be close, but it was their only chance. Looking back to Aragorn she nodded as he gestured at the opening. A decisive nod back was his only reply before suddenly he was gone, diving head first beneath the water and striking out towards the gap.

Dawn took a deep breath. Well, here goes...

The cold was like a sledgehammer against her chest as she dived. She only made it a few meters before she had to surface, gasping raggedly as her skin sang in shock. It was then she realised just how bad the decision to keep the shift on was. It felt like a sheet of lead draped around her, pulling her down and making her arms ache just from the effort of keeping her head above the water.

Well screw that.

Dawn dived again, this time twisting in what must have looked like a very complicated way underwater. A few seconds later she re-surfaced, a lot colder but a hell of a lot lighter. She could feel the weight of the material dragging at her hand and, with nothing else to do, simply let it go, hoping idly that Eowyn hadn't been particularly fond of the slip. Dawn bobbed a little in the current as another wave hit her and she glanced up at the ships, almost swallowing her tongue as she saw just how much time her little closet malfunction had cost her. The gap in the fleet was almost level with her. If she squinted she could just see a distant splash or two that was Aragorn swimming through, almost to the other side.

Gulping in a breath Dawn dove again and struck out for the gap with sure strokes. She'd always been a good swimmer. She could remember as a kid dreaming of winning Olympic gold for the three-hundred free-style. Her mother had always joked that between her swimming and Buffy's ice-skating she was sure to have at least one athlete in the family. It often made Dawn wonder recently if that was something she used to say before about Buffy or whether the monks had thought it up without a reference.

Dawn felt the shift in the current as she drew nearer to the ship but didn't dare look up – she didn't have the time to waste. If she'd aimed correctly she would pass just in front of the lagging ship; if not...well, she'd know about that if it happened that's for sure. Very suddenly the pull of the water shifted to a push and a few strokes later she risked a look up. The bank of the river greeted her. Dawn grinned silently to herself. She'd made it. Spinning in the water, she turned and watched as the ship she'd just passed in front of cut past. It had been close. A few more seconds and she would have been a smoosh of Dawn against the hull.

She almost yelped as a hand dropped onto her shoulder. Spinning hurriedly while treading water was a feat but she managed it, coming face to face with a drowned-rat looking Aragorn.

"You cut that very close Dawn," he whispered seriously and there was no mistaking the worry in his eyes. Dawn tried to shrug off the familiar I-made-someone-worry guilt.

"I made it didn't I?" she hissed back, her teeth still doing their best to rattle out of her head, despite the slight warmth the exercise had instilled. "Now which one is it?" she asked, turning to face the on-coming ships.

She blatantly ignored Aragorn's sigh as he nodded down the line to an oncoming ship. Dawn was rather glad he'd been paying attention because to her all the dark hulls looked the same. They didn't have to wait long for their target to draw level with them. Dawn had a slight moment of panic when she first reached out to the slowing gliding hull in the dark only to find smooth wood beneath her fingers. How the hell were they supposed to climb this? A hurried glance to Aragorn beside her didn't seem to help, though he was distinctly lacking any sort of look of confusion. Instead he seemed to be waiting for something. What became apparent a moment later when the smooth wood sliding under her hand suddenly took on the distinct shape of a hand-hold. Dawn didn't think, she just grabbed, suddenly finding herself being dragged through the water beside the ship before she had the mind to hoist herself up. She was unsurprised to find another hold a little way up from the first. Someone had obviously had the foresight to carve a make-shift ladder into the side of the ship. How considerate.

Feeling a tap on her ankle she hurriedly climbed a few rungs up before looking down to where Aragorn was just hoisting himself out of the water. She waited only a couple of seconds for his nod of okay before she turned back to the climb ahead. Thirty rungs later she was peeking up through the rail across the deck. She had to squint to see anything in the darkness and only moved when she was sure there was no lurkers near.

The deck was rough and slightly slimy under her bare feet and Dawn suppressed a shudder as she sidestepped away from the rail, trying hard to keep to the shadows before sliding to a crouch behind a convenient pile of crates. A moment later Aragorn joined her.

It was about at that point Dawn realised that, while they had thought out a brilliant strategy for getting aboard the ships, once on them they hadn't a clue where to go from there. They had to get to Elrohir somehow but even Dawn could see the futility of trying to sneak up with a deck full of pirates between them and the bound elf. What they needed was...

"A distraction," Aragorn spoke suddenly beside her and Dawn almost jumped out of her skin at the sound of his voice so close to her ear. Turning slightly towards him she watched as he scowled out at the scene, his brow knitted as he obviously worked through the problem in his head. Yep – definitely a Giles-planner.

"A distraction?" she prompted. "What, like an explosion?"

Aragorn shook his head.

"Too violent. The first sign of an attack and I have no doubt they will kill Elrohir."

Dawn nodded slightly.

"Fair enough... So a non-violent distraction. How the hell are we supposed to come up with a non-violent..." Dawn trailed off as she glanced back at Aragorn only to find him looking directly at her. Uh oh.

"What?" she scowled.

Very obviously Aragorn dropped his eyes to Dawn's chest and Dawn didn't think she'd ever moved so fast as she crossed her arms violently over her – _godhellshitFUCK_ – very thin, plastered to her body and – _whygod?_ – white camisole top. Aragorn met her eyes again and raised his eyebrows. The only thing that kept him from being violently punched was the slight tinge of red high on his cheeks. He very obviously didn't like the plan any more than she did. But damn him he was right – it was the best they had.

"Just so you know – I completely and utterly hate you for this," she growled.

-------------------------------

"What's going on?"

Sometimes Legolas really hated being gifted with such good sight. Especially when certain Dwarfs took it upon themselves to pester him rather constantly on the situation he was trying not to hyperventilate over unfolding on the river. He'd almost snapped his bow in half when Dawn had only just missed being crushed by the ship on her swim over. His grip had only really slackened once he caught sight of first the lady, then Aragorn slipping silently over the rail of the target ship. Now though... well he had a funny feeling he ought to place his bow safely to his side very soon...

Legolas scowled as Dawn slunk out from behind the crates and crept in a wide circle around the rail towards the middle of the deck. She was going to be seen. What...

"What the devil is she doing," Gimli growled from beside him – obviously able to see well enough himself now that the lady had left the shadows. Legolas shook his head, finding himself automatically slipping an arrow from his quiver and fitting it loosely but securely in his bow. He was glad for his forethought a moment later when he watched the lady Dawn suddenly break from her slinking movement to step nimbly up against the rail, in full view of every pirate on the deck. It didn't take long for her to be noticed and Legolas tensed as cries of surprise went up from the pirates. Then he tensed for an all-together different reason.

Slowly and deliberately Dawn threw her arms up over her head in an exaggerated and very cat-like stretch. Legolas only narrowly missed his own foot as his bow string slipped through suddenly nerveless fingers and his arrow thumped into the ground.

"Oi!" Gimli yelped beside him but Legolas didn't even spare him a glance – couldn't spare him a glance. Somewhere between her entering the water and her slipping over the rail of the pirate ship Dawn seemed to have lost the dress-slip that had been the only thing keeping him from turning a deep crimson in her presence before. The result was... well Legolas wasn't all-together too sure what it was. His brain seemed to have seized up somewhere between the hem of Dawn's scrap of a tunic and the low dip of the men's breeches she'd acquired somewhere in Rohan.

This was not good.

-----------------------------------------

Dawn was going to kill Aragorn. Slowly and painfully. Possibly with hot pokers.

The ship was dark but not nearly dark enough to hide the shock and...other things...on the pirates' faces. She now had the attentions of every last one of them fixated on her. Or rather, she amended, on her not-so-suitably-covered body. Dawn only just kept herself from cringing as she dropped her arms slowly out of the horribly exaggerated stretch of a moment before and, gritting her teeth slightly, sent what she hoped was a suggestive smile over the crowd.

"Oops," she said with a breathy sort of air that probably would have made Buffy drop dead. "This isn't where I parked my car..."

The first pirate to step forward was one of the biggest and the grin on his face would have made the word lecherous crawl away into a dark corner in shame. Dawn fixed the smile on her face with a hard determination and made a point of pinning her eyes back on him – anything to keep her from glancing over into the shadows where Aragorn was no doubt heading towards Elrohir.

"Well well," Lecherous growled around a mouth full of yellow teeth. "How did you get here then sweet?"

Dawn struggled with the instinct to cover her chest.

"Swam," she said innocently. Behind big-ugly she could just make out the last of the pirates stepping away from the captive elf – seeming to want a better look at the strange girl near the railing. A moment later a shadow seemed to detach itself from the nearest crate and disappear behind the prisoner. Taking a deep breath Dawn steeled herself before dropping into a pitiful slouch.

"I'm very cold," she pouted, wrapping both arms around herself. Predictably every pair of eyes on the deck that wasn't there already dropped to her chest.

Lecherous' grin, if possible, got worse.

"Well now," he said stepping forward. "Hows about you come on down here and we'll see about warmin' you up?"

Dawn chanced a glance back towards Elrohir and for a moment was caught in eyes almost as blue as Legolas'. As she watched, he shook his head minutely before twisting a little to mutter something over his shoulder. More time then. Damn.

Dawn swallowed a nervously, turning her attention back to Lecherous who was closing the distance between them a little too quickly for comfort.

"Oh I really don't think you should get too close," she said, a thread of nervousness edging into her voice despite herself. Lecherous didn't even pause.

"Why not?" he smirked, stepping up to her and backing her solidly against the rail. Dawn swallowed heavily.

"Well..." she squeaked. Oh god she was officially out of options. "My friends probably wouldn't like it so much."

The grin on Lecherous' face didn't change even as something in his eyes became just a little more terrifying as he looked down on her.

"Ah yes," he said. "And what friends might those be?"

Dawn flinched as her arm was suddenly gripped vice-like and she would have cried out if Lecherous hadn't beaten her to it. As quickly as it had come, the grip on her arm was gone as he staggered back from her, a yellow feathered arrow quivering in his shoulder. A few cries went up from the assembled pirates but for a few endless seconds no one seemed able to move.

"Ah," Dawn said weakly. "Yes that would be one of them now."

And then the world exploded.

-------------------------------------------------

Elrohir was not having a good week.

Caught by pirates. Tortured, scraped and beaten – he had been beginning to think the next time he saw his brother was going to be in the Halls of Mandos. Of course that was before She had made an appearance.

Blue eyes, dark hair and indecent stretches of pale skin. He'd honestly thought he'd begun to hallucinate. What other explanation was there for the girl's presence?

He really should have known. Elessar was an absolute beast for turning up just when you needed him. Bless him.

Elrohir felt his hands jerk free just as a hoarse shout went up from the rail. He looked up in time to see the captain of the vessel staggering away from the girl clutching at his shoulder. Elrohir very nearly grinned through his exhaustion. He'd eat his tunic if that wasn't one of Legolas' arrows.

"Ah," said the girl. "Yes that would be one of them now."

Elrohir felt a hand encircle his arm and pull him down to the side just as the first pirate worked out the play and turned back to him. The shout of alarm that went up upon seeing him loose seemed to jerk the whole deck into action. Elrohir grunted as he was shoved roughly against a crate, a dagger pressed hurriedly into his hand before Aragorn launched past him, straight into the nearest pirate.

_Well_, he thought, gripping the dagger tighter. _To freedom then_.

With a yell he joined the fray.

-------------------------------------------------

Dawn grunted as she buried an elbow in the gut of the pirate that had made the rookie mistake of grabbing her from behind and bent with him as he doubled over, using his own momentum to flip him bodily onto the deck at her feet. A ruthless twist and a sickening crack later and Dawn had taken out the use of one of his arms. It was a distant thought that inflicting so much damage so easily ought to shake her a little but Dawn couldn't seem to hold onto it.

Never before had she believed Eowyn's words more. This...this was instinct. It was cold and it was hard. Dawn kicked out, hearing a grunt of pain to her side as her blow landed solidly. It was violent and it was survival.

"Well, hello again sweet."

Dawn turned at the growl only to find Lecherous bearing down on her. He'd broken the arrow shaft at his shoulder leaving only a sliver of wood sticking grotesquely out of the joint. Dawn couldn't help noticing it didn't seem to be slowing him down at all.

His first swing was wild and Dawn ducked it easily but found she'd underestimated his intention as pain suddenly exploded across her cheek. She staggered under the blow catching herself against the ship railing and curling away only just in time to dodge a kick. She caught his next two blows but never got a chance at an offensive as he backed her down the deck towards the crates, trying to box her in. Not good. Dawn could fight, that much she knew, but it did not stop her being slight, lean and in no way built to take too much of a beating. Her best defence against attack was speed – being cornered was going to spell a world of pain.

She grunted as a well aimed kick doubled her over and tried desperately to back away – needing her breath back before she could do much of anything else – but Lecherous wasn't letting her recover.

"Whats'a matter darling? Too rough?" he snarled, swinging a fist the size of ham at her head. Dawn threw herself against the rail again to avoid it and caught a flash of glowing green out of the corner of her eye. The dead had joined the fight. Oh thank god.

She should have known better than to relax. Buffy, Giles – hell even Anya had always been on about not letting your guard down until your opponent was dead or dust. She was just so tired. Not to mention the cold that seemed attached to her bones from the swim over was making her reactions just a smidgen too slow.

In the end she just didn't dodge fast enough.

The breath powered out of her body as Lecherous barrelled into her, slamming her with painful force against the railing at her back...and then over it.

The seconds of falling seemed endless – and then the cold slammed into her with a vengeance.

She struggled. She didn't know for how long. All she knew was that the darkness was getting closer, the grip on her lungs wouldn't let go and there was a voice...a voice so far away...

_The hand reached down toward her..._

_The little girl was pulled spluttering from the water. Almost at once her father's deep laughter assailed her ears._

_"You're supposed to tread the water my little love, not embrace it," he said chuckling. Dawn pouted through the water streaming down her face in little rivers._

_"It's hard!" she said petulantly. "My legs weigh too much."_

_Her father laughed again and Dawn delighted in the sound. She loved her father's laugh – always big and strong. It made her feel safe – safe and very warm._

_"Come now," he chided, wading further into the water at her side, keeping his arms steady around her. "Your legs are not the weight you need to bother with – it's your thoughts keeping you down."_

_Dawn swallowed as her father pulled them both out deeper._

_"Think of it like flying," her father said gently. "Like kicking through the air and soaring softly."_

_Dawn had always wanted to fly._

_"Ready?"_

_Dawn fixed her father with a steely glare._

_"You won't let me go?" she asked shakily._

_Her father chuckled again, this time much softer as he hugged her close a moment._

_"Never," he promised._

_Dawn clutched at his neck a moment longer before pulling back and nodding resolutely. She could do this. It was just like flying. Flying with her father..._

_And she slipped out of his arms..._

Dawn thrashed suddenly as the cold broke against her once more. Everything came rushing back with a jolt. The darkness, the pain and the hand...the hand reaching down toward her...

She landed on the deck on her knees, great shuddering coughs wracking her frame as the darkness played at the edges of her vision. God everything...everything hurt...

"Get her up!"

"Dawn! Dawn can you hear me?"

"Lift her...we need to get her warm-"

Seeming from very far away, she felt herself being dragged upwards and against something solid and warm. Strong arms wound their way around her and held her tightly and she automatically burrowed down, burying her face against warm cotton and trying to still the shivers that were making it a trial to stay on her feet...

"Dawn?"

"She's in shock – Legolas wrap her up."

One arm disappeared for a moment before returning, pulling with it a heavy material. Wool, her mind supplied for her. Oh god she was so cold.

"Dawn?"

"I-I'm s-sorry I pushed you," she said, her voice cracking slightly as the darkness ghosted towards her before taking her whole.

------------------  
**AN:**

Cookies to anyone that got the 'this isn't where I parked my car' quote - it was Eurotrip :)

I'm so sorry it's taken this long - I'll be getting onto the next chappie asap I promise. Thanks to all those who've stuck with me so far and extra points to the ones that badgered me not so subtly to, and I quote, 'update already!'.

cheers 


	24. The Dead King

"_You're a big stoopid head! Wake UP!_"

Dawn blinked slowly and fuzzily, trying with little success to piece together where she was. It was somewhere warm and not very well lit. It was also somewhere marginally soft. Groaning she rolled onto her back and her heart thudded suddenly as she felt the heavy wool blanket rub softly across her skin. All of her skin.

Oh god when did she get naked?

Clutching the blanket to her chest she sat up gingerly and took in her surroundings. She was indoors – a cabin below deck by the looks of things. It wasn't particularly bad as ships cabins went – not that Dawn had anything beyond the movies to compare to. The back wall was taken up with a grimy, thick glass window that was letting in the minimal light of early dawn. In front of that a rather imposing hard wood desk stood sentinel, its surface covered with bits of parchment and oddly shaped bits and pieces.

The cot Dawn found herself on was small but comfortable, tucked into a back corner beside a dilapidated chest of drawers. God she'd heard of being married to your work but this was ridiculous.

Stretching gingerly she swung her legs over the side of the matrass and stopped there, dropping her head into her hands before it could succeed in dropping off her shoulders all together.

Jeeze. Ow. What had...

Oh that's right. Dawn clutched the blanket a little tighter to her throat with one hand as she remembered the darkness – the cold seeping into her lungs and suffocating her. She shivered. Drowning officially sucked. It was strange to remember feeling herself slipping away – to be able to recall with clarity the feeling of your mind becoming heavy. But then there was the hand.

Dawn blinked, for a moment two different images superimposing in her mind before she managed to grasp onto the real one. The real one. A glowing green hand reaching eerily through the darkness to grab at her. Jo. Dawn sighed – reminding herself to give the dead man a massive hug no matter how damn cold it was going to be.

First things first though.

Wrapping the blanket firmly around herself she headed over to investigate the chest of drawers. She needed clothes.

--------------------------------------------

Elrohir was an observer. He always had been. His brother had often joked that between his attention to detail and Elladan's own penchant for charm they would one day rule the world. Elrohir had pointed out that that was only if they stopped laughing at it long enough. It was true he and his dear brother had a certain fondness for the amusement to be found in life.

It was also true Elladan would have joined him in utter fits of laughter at the situation unfolding on the deck of the pirate ship.

It was as though every male aboard was making it a personal mission to outdo the other's in their worry for the girl below deck. What was funnier was they had no idea they were doing it.

Aragorn, brother of Elrohir's heart that he was, was staying calm in the face of his turmoil, ordering the dead army about and making sure the fleet's course was sure. But Elrohir would have had to have been blind not to notice the looks he kept shooting the door to below deck.

The Dwarf who, for some inexplicable reason, Legolas seemed to have taken a liking to, wasn't even being subtle about it. Sitting in a great ball of frizzy anger; viciously sharpening an axe without even one eye on his task as he glared at the door.

Even the dead seemed affected. The king and another - younger if he could be called so - spectre had stuck close despite their freedom to move about the fleet. Since the defeat and subsequent takeover of the pirate ships the dead had spread across the fleet like a great glowing blanket of moss. It was slightly eerie to look out over the water and see the ghostly army lighting the way through the darkness, some not even aboard ships, just marching unerringly across the river's surface.

Then there was Legolas. Elrohir had to wonder if the poor elf even realised he was so very in love.

Elrohir had known Legolas most of his life. They had grown up together as much as elves could – especially elves living as they did in different places. As rambunctious as Elrohir and Elladan had been in their youth Legolas had always been equivalently quiet. That seriousness had followed him into adulthood. Elrohir could honestly say he had never seen Legolas anything but completely composed.

Until now.

Elladan was just going to fall over when he told him.

It was perhaps because he was paying such close attention to watching everyone else watch the door to below decks that he was one of the first ones to see it crack open. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the dwarf suddenly sit up like a spear had been jammed in his back as a collective awareness went through the assembled.

The picture that emerged on the deck was one of such innocent, rumpled sweetness Elrohir suddenly found himself with half an idea as to why this daughter of man had every male within fifty yards wrapped securely around her little finger. By the Valar, even he was halfway tempted to try and wrap her in cotton wool.

She had raided some pirate clothes obviously and the tan shirt draped over her reached mid-thigh. The sleeves were rolled a good three or four times up her forearms to keep her hands free and the breeches had been similarly treated. Her feet were bare on the hard-wood decking. She couldn't have looked more like an innocent if she tried.

----------------------------------------------------

Something in Dawn cringed a little at being the subject of so many worried stares and she grinned sheepishly for a moment.

"So...I went and passed out again huh..."

A snort of laughter burst out from somewhere to her side and Dawn only just caught sight of Elrohir grinning at her before she was being hustled by both Aragorn and Legolas to sit down on a crate that Gimli was hastily vacating.

"Are you okay?"

"How do you feel?"

"Does anything hurt-"

Dawn knew better than to struggle and let herself be sat down and fussed over for a few moments before shrugging off Aragorn's concerned medical attentions.

"I'm fine I promise – maybe a little cold –"

Before she'd even finished she felt a cloak being dropped around her shoulders and all eyes turned and stared at Gimli.

"What?" he grunted, tugging a little at his cloak now around Dawn's shoulders to sit it more firmly.

Dawn grinned at him, snuggling a little deeper into the warmth.

"I'm okay," she said to the world in general. "Now what's happening? How long was I out?"

Aragorn sighed, looking for all the world like he was trying desperately not to reach for her wrist to check her pulse again.

"Not long. We are just approaching sunrise. We should reach Osgiliath by mid afternoon tomorrow if the winds stay sure," he said, glancing up at the lightening sky as he did so.

"Midday tomorrow," a new voice joined the group and Dawn glanced up at the eerie glow of the dead king as he stepped into the group. "I will make sure of it."

Dawn smiled a little at Jo hovering at the King's shoulder and Jo returned it before the King's voice pulled her attention back.

"You are feeling better my lady," he said and there was something in his voice Dawn couldn't quite pin. She had no idea if it was meant as a question or a statement but nodded anyway, swallowing a little nervously as his eyes bored into her. It suddenly occurred to her that this was the first time the dead King had spoken to her directly.

"Yes...um yes..."

"The King was the one who pulled you from the river," Aragorn supplied softly beside her and something thunked heavily into Dawn's stomach. Not Jo then. Shit. Dawn swallowed again, shooting Legolas a glance only to have him nod slightly at her.

"We could not reach you," the elf said tightly.

Dawn's eyes slid back to the face of the Dead King above her and she caught her breath for a moment. The way he was staring...there was – it sent something chilling and yet somehow familiar skittering down her spine. Clearing her throat she reached a hand out.

"Uh...thank you..."

For a full second she didn't think he was going to take it. Then looking like a man striving against his better judgment he reached forwards and enveloped her hand in his.

_"Think of it like flying...Like kicking through the air and soaring softly."_

Dawn blinked. For a moment her mind seemed to have...but no...

The Dead King squeezed her hand lightly for a moment before letting go and dropping his gaze from hers. He nodded shortly at Aragorn before turning and walking away. Dawn watched him go, finding herself unable to shake the feeling she was missing something.

Because for a second there she could have sworn she saw kind grey eyes staring down at her before she'd blinked and the eerie green was back.

--------------------------------------------------

Aragorn would be lying if he said he hadn't noticed the Dead King watching Dawn. Even before the girl's near drowning. He hadn't known what to make of it before and truthfully had been weary. Gandalf had told him in no uncertain terms that Dawn's safety was a priority – not that Aragorn had particularly needed telling. The girl had a way of worming past people's defences and taking up in their heart before they rightly knew what was going on. He had seen it in those around her. And yes, he could admit, in himself as well.

He could still remember the terror that had gripped him when he'd watched her disappear over the side of the ship – the numbing horror of realising he would never get to her in time. Legolas' desperate struggles to reach the rail that night had been his own as well. The relief at seeing her in the Dead Kings arms – of hearing her breath – it had cut down any other thought in his head at the time. He never stopped to contemplate the grim look on the Dead Kings face – nor the care with which he held the girl.

Now he did. And now he had questions.

Dawn had dragged Elrohir, Legolas, Gimli and the dead man Jo together for some manner of mischief and the group was lounging atop a bundle of crates, laughing at something Elrohir had brought up. Or rather Dawn and Jo were laughing, Legolas was smirking and Gimli was trying very hard to look like he wasn't in the least bit interested in the conversation and failing miserably.

It was a surreal sight, truth be told. Two elves, a girl, a dwarf and a dead man. Not to mention the fact they were lounging aboard a pirate ship just taken by force by an army of the dead, sailing towards a raging battle that could decide the fates of the free peoples.

It had to be Dawn. His life was never this strange before.

Glancing toward the ship rail he noticed again that he was not the only one watching the group. The Dead King was a pale wisp in the bright sun but still visible. To anyone watching it might seem his gaze was busy on the course of the river ahead of them. Aragorn had enough experience with watching covertly to know better.

He crossed the deck casually, leaning forward and mimicking the Dead King's pose. For a moment neither said anything. It was the Dead King who broke the silence.

"Come to press me for answers ranger?" he said gruffly.

Aragorn didn't react – keeping his eyes fixed on the horizon.

"That would depend on your willingness to give them," he said simply. "But yes – I have questions for you."

"You want to know why I saved her," the King said surely.

"No," said Aragorn, turning to him. "I want to know why you watch her."

He watched a moment as the King seemed to grit his teeth – a distant part of him a little disconcerted that he could actually see said teeth gritting _through_ his cheek. Finally, after what seemed an age, the Dead King sighed.

"I had a daughter once," he said quietly and Aragorn blinked at the abrupt subject change.

"She was...she was my everything. Her mother died giving her life. She was all I had and I cherished her. She was four years old when I learned I wasn't the only one."

Aragorn frowned as the Dead King bowed his head, but kept his silence – waiting for him to continue.

"You know of Ilúvatar yes?"

Aragorn's eyebrows hit his hairline even as he nodded. Yes he knew of Ilúvatar – the creator – raised among the elves as he was there was little way he could not have. Having the name pronounced in conversation with a dead king of men...well it was unsettling to say the least.

"I would wager you know not of Ilúvatar's Key."

The Dead King didn't even look up to see him shake his head, keeping his gaze instead fixed firmly in the distance.

"I did not know of it either. Until it was given to me and mine to protect."

Aragorn almost choked.

"You were given-"

"A gift from the Valar. Yes."

Aragorn tried and failed to swallow.

"My daughter..." The Dead King bowed his head then and Aragorn watched as he took an unneeded breath before continuing. "In the Summer of her fourth year, as we travelled home from the fairs of Gondor, our party was attacked by a band of orcs. In the confusion she was swept from my side and I could not reach her. I watched as a goblin blade swung towards her neck."

Just as Aragorn was about to look away – to give the King a measure of privacy in his grief the Dead King looked up and pinned him with a stare.

"She did not die," he said flatly. Aragorn frowned and the King sighed.

"The blade broke upon her flesh. Not one drop of blood was spilled."

"That is not possible," Aragorn said before he could stop himself but thankfully, instead of being incensed the Dead King merely inclined his head.

"As was my thought at the time. The truth of it soon became apparent however. No blade – man, orc, dwarf or elf – could cut her. Only when the weapon was wielded by her own hand could her skin be breached."

The King sighed tightly again, casting his gaze back towards the horizon.

"The gift was in her blood you see - Ilúvatar's Key ran in her veins."

"What is it – the Key," Aragorn asked. For a moment he almost thought he saw the Dead King's eye slip back towards Dawn but a moment later it was back on the horizon.

"The Lord of Elves I sought answers of called it power. It is neither good nor evil but simply a well that can be used to create or destroy."

"Create or destroy..." Aragorn repeated softly and the King shot him a glance beside him.

"You've seen one of its creations already in your lifetime," he said heavily and Aragorn scowled for a moment before something slid quite heavily into place in his head. It must have shown on his face because the King nodded.

"When the Dark Lord Sauron came to us it was in the guise of a young soldier of Gondor. My daughter fell under his spell quickly."

The King paused then but Aragorn could quite easily run with the story. A notorious trickster, Sauron would have lured his prize away by any means. He had already conquered the suspicions of the elves when gifting them the rings of power, the heart of a young girl would have been simple in comparison.

"She disappeared not long following her sixteenth summer," the King said heavily. "For years I searched. And for years I found nothing. When the war broke out it was an easy decision to aid Gondor in the coming battles."

At this Aragorn practically felt the King's sharp look upon him – like the weight of a blade.

"I knew not the identity of the soldier that had stolen my daughter. All my enquiries after him had turned up naught. Even so – I had as much desire to see the free peoples remain free as your esteemed ancestors."

Aragorn caught the bitterness in the tone and wasn't overly surprised. Even so...

"So why turn back?" Aragorn asked, keeping his face blank as the King turned a glare on him. Years of hate, despair and bitterness stared him in the face but Aragorn forced himself not to react. Finally the King turned his burning glare on the horizon with a slight sigh.

"The eve of the march...as my army readied itself for battle...a figure approached the mountains. It was Nazgul."

Aragorn's eyebrows rose but he stayed silent as the King's mouth twisted in distaste.

"The first of my men who recognised the creature attacked at once and were cut down with nary a swing of the beast's blade. Then it spoke. It asked an audience with the King – with me. I was going to refuse before it drew from its side another blade and laid it on the ground at my feet. It was my daughters."

A thread of dread began to wind about Aragorn's throat as he listened. Despite growing up as he had, far from the walls of Gondor – indeed, of any city of man – he knew the stories. The tale of the betrayal of the men of the White Mountains was wide-spread. Through the lips of bards and stories of old, the once great people of the Mountains were remembered now only as cowards – a city that turned its back on its fellows when the free peoples need was most dire.

Aragorn had listened to the stories much as everyone else had – sure in the knowledge that the men of the White Mountains were as the tales had painted them. Now though...

Now Aragorn was finding it difficult to see the coward in the man in front of him...and what was left was a man who had loved his daughter.

"I learned many things in that meeting. I learned the identity of the soldier that had stolen my daughter away. I learned why she had been stolen. And...and I learned that my involvement in the coming war against Mordor would ensure her destruction."

There was no outward sign to the King's despair. No slump of the shoulders; no crack in the hard glare at the horizon. Even so, Aragorn could sense it – could practically taste it.

"I made my decision," the King said firmly. "In the end I became a King that could watch a civilisation fall...because I was a father who couldn't watch the same happen to my daughter."

The King turned a hard, almost challenging gaze on him then – as if daring him to speak. Aragorn didn't rise to the bait, instead turning a careful gaze ahead of him until he felt the glare subside and slide off him. When he next turned to the King he found the dead man's gaze back on the group across the deck.

And it was then that everything slid suddenly into place in Aragorn's head. Ilúvatar's Key, the palentir, Dawn...

'Keep her safe,' Gandalf had said. 'Keep her secret and keep her safe. Sauron will stop at nothing to possess her.'

As he watched, Dawn threw back her head and laughed loudly – everything about her young and innocent.

No...

"She is...the very image of my daughter."

Aragorn looked back to the King, his mind still in a spin. He didn't know what to make of the look on the Dead King's face.

"I must remind myself often that she is not her..." the Dead King said distantly. "My daughter is long dead. And...that - that is the thing that destroyed her." 


	25. A Dance before the storm

Okay...yes, I'm still alive, dispite all the evidence otherwise heh.

This chapter isn't huge but I wanted to post it for two reasons. One, because it's sort of like flower-girl to the Minis Tirith Battle's wedding (which I'm writing as I speak) and two, I wanted to prove I AM still working on this. Forms is still alive and kicking me soundly in the butt so it WILL be finished, this I promise. Life just tends to be a bit of a bitch about getting in the way at times.

I'd also like to thank everyone who's reviewed and especially all those who have stuck with me over the years it's taken me to churn this out - special points to Katie for reminding me of the fact :)

--

The night passed in fitful sleep and, in Dawn's case, her growing ever present nightmares. The company awoke early and shared among themselves the last of the rations – each aware that more would not be needed no matter the outcome of the day.

The morning was just settling into a tense, drawn out wait when the mood was cut quite effectively.

By dancing of all things.

Dawn stifled a very girly giggle as Jo spun her out again.

It had started off as a joking story Elrohir had been relating about Legolas' first royal gathering. The blonde elf – stoic and perfect in everything else he'd set his mind to, had had a time of remembering the steps to even the most basic of elvish dances. Elrohir had been relating, much to Legolas' chagrin, the night he'd pulled the twins and their sister Arwen into the stables and pleaded with them to help him learn. Dawn didn't think she'd ever heard Gimli laugh so hard as when Elrohir had got to his feet and done a fairly ridiculous impression of the young Legolas tripping over himself.

Dawn for her part had tried very hard to keep her snickering to a minimum until she'd looked at Legolas and found him rolling his eyes, a heart-wrenchingly cute smile playing over his lips. He'd very obviously endured this story's telling before and was quite used to it. Her laughter from that moment was almost as obnoxious as Gimli's.

About halfway through the demonstration Elrohir had taken the cue to up the entertainment value and pulled her up and into the dance with him. Quite a bit of toe stomping later – all of it by Dawn of course – the demonstration had turned into a lesson. And things had gone from there.

She'd been taught Elvish dance, Dwarvish dance – from which she didn't think her feet were ever going to recover. She herself had led a lesson in a two-step she'd learned from Eowyn in Rohan – an action that made her heart clench a little at the thought of her friend. Jo was the most recent to step up to the challenge – spinning Dawn in intricate circles and leading her with swift steps in the dance of the White Mountains. It was a complicated gig and yet strangely enough, one of the easiest of the evening for Dawn.

Jo spun her around once more before dipping her rather dramatically in a fashion Dawn was almost positive he'd made up on the spot. Dawn didn't much care – laughing as she tried to catch her breath while looking at the world upside down. Off to the side Elrohir and Gimli broke into riotous applause leaving Legolas to follow with a little more restraint. Dawn squeaked as she was yanked upright and into Jo's glowing green face – made even more stare-worthy by the grin currently splitting it in half. Dawn grinned back before joining him in a bow to their audience of three.

"Excellent!" Elrohir enthused. "And now – for our grand finale!"

Dawn giggled at his antics – just giddy enough to miss the sly look that passed between the elf and Jo as Elrohir stepped forward.

"No dancing lesson is complete without learning the steps of the halls of Gondor," he said grandly and Dawn grinned at him.

"Oh really?"

"Why yes! And as our native dancer seems to have fled the vicinity –" at this Elrohir made a show of looking around for Aragorn who had indeed retreated below deck " – we shall just have to settle for second best."

At this Dawn expected Elrohir himself to step forward. Having spent time growing up with Aragorn she was sure he would know a few Gondorian dances. Instead, much to her delight and insurmountable dread, the elf deftly stepped aside and, in one fluid motion, yanked Legolas to within a hair's breadth of her.

For his part the blonde elf seemed equally shocked and for a full second the two of them just stood there stupidly staring at each other – mere millimetres between them.

"Never fear my Lady Dawn, what my dear kinsman lacked in Elvish dancing he has made up for in the halls of men," Elrohir said jovially before, to Dawn's everlasting shame, giving Legolas a final little push that had them stumbling into each other. Legolas was the first to recover - _as frigging always_, the little voice in her head chimed in- and it was with a small smile that sent Dawn's heart into her throat that he placed a hand chastely on the curve of her waist, drawing her opposite hand into his and lifting it slightly.

"Now place your left hand upon my shoulder," he said softly and Dawn tried to swallow her heart as she nodded and did as she was told, damning Elrohir all the while.

It took a moment before she realised the pose she was in was very similar to that of the waltz in her world. She was about to comment as such when Legolas shifted them slightly, bringing her body securely against his and her train of thought swiftly and completely derailed.

"Just follow my lead," Legolas said, his breath sending chills over her neck and Dawn just nodded again, hoping wildly that his lead perhaps involved pressing her up against a wall and...oh...oh okay, bad thoughts.

Her first steps were faltering but not nearly as bad as they could have been. Much of her klutziness was glossed over by Legolas' inherent grace – something that she was coming to view now as normal fare. She learned fast though, despite the distraction of being pressed against what was fast becoming the strongest crush she'd ever known. And there was something...well, nice about just being held. Dawn didn't realise she'd closed her eyes until Legolas brought them both to a stop.

Feeling a blush beginning to stain her cheeks she hastily opened them before freezing with a slight gasp. Because the eyes that looked back into hers weren't Legolas'.

The face was handsome no doubt. Dark hair and eyes coupled with clear, pale skin made the man seem every bit as beautiful as an elf – and yet there was something in his eyes – something hungry - that made Dawn fight off a shiver of revulsion.

"What's the matter my love? You look as if you've seen a ghost."

The words, spoken with the utmost concern, nevertheless just felt...wrong. And then the man smiled and his expression seemed to stab at something within her. Dawn squeezed her eyes shut and twisted away, wanting – no, needing – to get out of his grasp. The moment she staggered free the air rushed in around her, cold and salty – she hadn't realised how warm it had become – and her eyes opened to the concerned gazes of her friends around her.

"Dawn?" Legolas' voice pierced her terror and Dawn suddenly found herself able to breathe again.

"I-I'm okay," she said, forcing her voice to stay steady.

"No you're not – what happened?" he asked.

God what had happened? She felt dirty – almost violated in a way. The vision had all the feeling of a memory and yet...

"I...I don't know..." She said finally. "I think I had a nightmare..."

"Well you're about to have another one," Aragorn's voice broke in and Dawn jumped slightly, wondering when he'd joined the group. She turned to the ranger along with everyone else. The seriousness in his eyes as he strapped his sword on was enough to stop her breath again.

"We are within sight of Osgiliath. We join the battle within the hour."


	26. The Daughter

The first sounds of battle hit Dawn's ears well before the ships landed. They were heavy sounds, brash and unforgiving. Dawn couldn't help thinking that anyone who'd ever quoted battle as noble had very obviously never heard the screams of it.

"We are coming up on the port," Legolas said from the helm, his elven eyes obviously earning their keep because Dawn had yet to even spot a break in the foliage lining the river banks. She practically felt Aragorn tense beside her even as she tightened her grip on her blade herself.

"Good," the ranger said. "Tell the king to fall back, the sunlight should afford them some cover but I want them to be sure to stay out of sight until I give the signal."

Dawn watched as Legolas nodded perfunctorily at his words, sparing her a brief if slightly strained smile before striding off down the deck to where the majority of their merry little band was suiting up for the impending battle. Dawn took a step to follow before Aragorn's hand on her shoulder stayed her.

"Dawn, tarry a moment."

"What's up?" she asked, her attempt at a cheery tone only slightly hampered by her trepidation of the approaching battle. "You have pensive face."

Aragorn locked his eyes with hers, a seriousness on his face that Dawn had a feeling didn't bode well.

"Dawn, when we reach the port - when we charge - you are to keep behind us."

Dawn's eyes widened.

"What?! No way I-"

"You're exhausted, you've sustained a serious head injury recently and are in no fit state to fight. Even if you were I'd give this directive. Your safety is more important than anything right now."

Dawn spluttered.

"More important? What-"

And then she knew. She could see it in the way Aragorn's eye turned to her, half cautious and half curious. He'd worked out what she was. Dawn took an involuntary step back.

"You-"

"I am charged with keeping you safe," Aragorn interrupted her. "And I intend to do my job. Do as I say and stay back – we cannot risk you falling into the hands of the enemy."

The stinging behind her eyes was sudden and awful.

"No," she said bitterly. "We couldn't have that."

Aragorn studied her face a moment before nodding once, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder slightly before turning from her. Dawn was grateful he never saw the first angry tear trek down her cheek. She didn't know what was worse, the sick, helpless feeling inspired by Aragorn's words or the knowledge that it wasn't new.

Was this to be her fate forever then? Always to be protected? Always a liability?

It wasn't fair. Swiping her hand roughly across her cheek she turned to the rail, her arms wrapping around herself as she focused hard on the tree line.

She'd thought she was over feeling this helpless. Ever since these weird skills had manifested, perhaps even since she'd fallen into this strange world - she'd felt...stronger - more in control of her own actions and destiny than she had in a long time. Here she wasn't just helpless little Dawnie - always needing rescuing. Here she'd made a difference. Yes, perhaps a small difference in the grand scheme of things but at least it was something. Better than cringing and hiding - better than a tool to be fought over.

But now her secret was out. Now Aragorn knew what she was. A thing to be used – not human...

"Dawn?" a voice said behind her. Dawn froze. Oh god did Legolas know? Drawing in a ragged breath and hoping her eyes weren't as glassy as they felt she turned to face him.

"Positions?" She asked before he could say anything, her voice a little too perky even to her own ears. Legolas swept a worried gaze over her face that Dawn tried hard to ignore even as she watched him for a sign – any sign – that he knew.

"Yes, we are to take our positions," he said.

Dawn forced a smile, feeling her teeth clenching just that tiny bit too hard.

"Peachy! I'll just go make myself comfortable at the back then shall I?" She enthused darkly, pushing past him towards the center of the deck. A hand on her arm pulled her up short and Dawn felt herself turned back before she rightly knew what her feet were doing. For a moment Legolas just looked down at her, seeming to be trying to find words before, without warning, he pulled her closer. For one heart wrenching moment Dawn thought he was going to kiss her, he certainly seemed aimed that way, at least until he tuned his head aside and rested his cheek against hers. It was a simple gesture, but also an altogether intimate one. Dawn felt her breath catch as his warm breath stirred her hair, brushing her neck.

"Be safe," he whispered vehemently, something in his voice speaking of a very real desperation. But not to keep the Key safe, she knew. She could feel it. No, this desperation was for her.

Dawn hesitated only a moment before lifting her arms and wrapping them around his neck, drawing herself closer to his heat. He didn't know. Not yet.

"You too," she whispered back, closing her eyes.

She would remember this - no matter what else happened today, she would remember this moment in Legolas' arms...because god knows she probably wouldn't get another once the Key came to light.

* * *

Jo shifted slightly in the ranks, adjusting his grip on his sword. In truth it was all superfluous movement - human habits that had died out amongst his comrades long ago. Most of the dead soldiers were still things to behold - no breath, no life. Dawn had called them creepy. Jo might have too if he weren't so used to it. Truth was, among the dead, he was the odd one out. It was said that he clung to life too hard - that he remained still unwilling to let go of that which was lost. Life. Love. Her.

Jo sighed an unnecessary breath as his gaze invariably strayed to Dawn beside him. He'd been given guard duty - charged with seeing she survived the oncoming battle. Charged with a second chance - one that Jo was going to treat with all seriousness.

Because he wasn't losing her again...he couldn't.

He watched as Dawn fiddled with the strap of her belt - the action absent-minded and nervous. It only took one look at her face to know she wasn't happy with the situation. Jo hadn't heard the order for her to stay out of the fighting but he'd seen her reaction to it. So stubborn, so determined.

And so very familiar.

He couldn't remember her real name. Not long after their retreat it had become taboo to speak it and disuse had pushed it from the people's minds over the years. He remembered it had been long and beautiful though - something entirely unsuiting to the small firecracker of a girl he'd known. For this reason, he'd given her his own name when they were children. Wren he'd called her - for her ability to flit with an energy well beyond the norm. It had suited her better - and it had given his heart the opportunity to skip a beat every time her eyes sparkled at hearing it.

He'd been in love with her all his life. She had been his friend, his sister, his love, his...everything.

The day she'd disappeared was the day a part of him died inside. He'd noticed the dark stranger - he'd noticed their closeness. Everything about it had screamed wrong and yet he'd been helpless to stop it. The one time he'd tried had resulted in their first serious fight. Her words had torn strips off him that day. _You're just jealous!_

Jo hadn't tried again. He should have. He should have held on until his fingers bled. Instead he'd let her be stolen. Instead he'd never seen her again.

Until now.

No matter what his King said, Jo had little doubt that Dawn was his childhood friend. The gift within Wren had been as much a part of her as the colour of her eyes - she'd said as much to him not long after her immunities had come to light. And the same gift ran in Dawn's veins - he could feel it. He could feel her. And she was starting to remember. The dancing and the dreams - he'd heard her call out to him more than once in her sleep.

His king was as unmoving as ever on the subject. Jo watched his pain every day as he denied what was right in front of him. He saw the cracks in the mask when Dawn cried out for a father she never knew in unconsciousness. Jo had tried to talk to him once only to be ordered quiet. The King had been mourning his daughter for centuries - existing with the knowledge that he hadn't been able to save her, not even by damning his own people. It seemed the guilt had done what the years could not - numb him, destroy him. Jo hated to see it.

"Prepare to dock."

The voice travelled through and amongst them as only one could. The rightful King of Gondor - the one Dawn called Aragorn. It was both a blessing and an added curse feeling his order wash through them. On one hand it spoke of a promise soon to be fulfilled. On the other, something of the pride of the Mountains had survived over the millennia, and it chafed at the very thought of obeying the bloodline that had inflicted this upon them.

Still - it would be over soon. There was an end in sight for them. Not for her though - Jo spared another glance at Dawn, feeling his jaw tighten - no, Dawn would survive - he would see to it.

* * *

The first vision hit her just as the hail went up from the Orc's on the jetty.

There was a pull above her, like those in her dreams – it felt like a part of her had broken off and was souring high above. Her stomach swooped at the sensation and suddenly her eyes were filled with blue sky and swarms of battling armies far below...

Dawn felt herself gasp and sway before strong hands suddenly gripped her, staying her balance. It was enough of an anchor to pull her back to her own surrounds and she blinked to find Elrohir holding her up.

"What is happening to her?" the elf whispered hurriedly and Dawn couldn't help silently asking the same. She felt shattered – like she was split into pieces and scattered around the battle. Flashes of visions kept playing at the corners of her eyes. The sensation made her slightly sick.

"Dawn?"

Dawn looked up to find Legolas' worried gaze on her right before a heinous screeching filled her head. It was only as everyone fell back from her she realised it was coming from her own mouth.

------------

Elrohir looked on in horror as Dawn fell to her knees – the abhorred screeching still splitting the air.

"The Nazgûl – they are affecting her!" Aragorn cried.

"How?" Elrohir shouted over the racket. "She is but a girl!"

As suddenly as it begun the screeching stopped to be replaced by the girl's ragged panting. Legolas was by her side in a moment, his arms taking the weight of her as she all but collapsed, shivering.

"She is anything but," the dead king interrupted, stepping out of the shadow of the mast beside Aragorn. He spared Dawn but a glance before turning to the ranger.

"We attack now," he growled – not an order but close to it. Of all the dead Elrohir had no doubt the King felt the bite of the leash of their oath the most. Aragorn's eyes flicked from the girl collapsed on the deck to the sounds of the battle raging beyond the jetties and Elrohir couldn't miss his turmoil. It was plain to see the lady Dawn would not be fighting this day – but the ranger did not want to leave her unguarded.

"I will stay with her," Legolas spoke from his place on the decking. Aragorn opened his mouth but Elrohir beat him to it.

"No you won't – your skill is needed on the battlefield. I will stay. Sitting out the charge will probably be best for me at any rate," he said – raising one stiff arm as evidence. His torture at the hands of the pirates had been long and had not left him without wounds.

"I will stay also," Jo said, stepping up beside the dead King. Elrohir watched the King turn his gaze sharply to his subject but surprisingly Jo held it. A silent argument seemed to take place before the king turned away, voicing no support though no forbidding either.

"Very well," Aragorn said heavily. "Stay hidden and keep her safe. Legolas."

The last was directed to the elf who still had yet to move from his position with the girl. For a full second Elrohir thought he was going to argue before, seeming with a great weight, he nodded. Elrohir bent then, and with aid from Legolas, hefted Dawn's slight weight up into his arms. Looking down at her face he found her eyes closed as if in fitful sleep – a deep frown marring her features as she muttered words too fast to tell under her breath.

Shifting her more comfortably in his arms, Elrohir stepped back from the group, Jo by his side – his ghostly blade drawn.

"Fight well my brothers," he said in Elvish as Legolas stepped up beside his friends, his eyes still in turmoil.

"Stay safe," Aragorn spoke back. "And we will see eachother again soon."

Elrohir nodded just as the hull made it's first scrape along the jetty. A voice shouted up from land.

"Come on yer sea rats! Get off yer ships!"

With one last determined nod Aragorn turned and disappeared over the rail, taking Legolas and Gimli – and the whole of the dead army with him.

* * *

Dawn was lost in a sea of visions. Flashes of battle and blood and death flashed before her eyes. Nine – nine separate perspectives – and one of them all that made her blood chill.

_"Regroup! To me! To me!"_

Something dark and hungry blossomed in the pit of Dawn's stomach as the vision reeled in front of her.

Theoden. No...

The strike was fast and brutal. Dawn watched through borrowed eyes as Theoden's body was tossed like a ragdoll through the air. When he landed, Dawn didn't need the alien victory sparking in her mind to know he was broken.

_"Feed upon his flesh..."_

The voice reverberated through her skull and Dawn felt the horror rise in her as the demon advanced.

"No!" she heard herself scream as if from far away – but it was enough – enough to give herself a thread to pull herself back.

The vision flickered before her eyes – her own surrounds reasserting themselves slowly but surely as Dawn pushed forward. But not before she caught one last sight.

_"I'll kill you if you touch him!"_

Dawn blinked and felt her own perspective fall back into place around her. For a second she lay stunned. Eowyn – she'd recognise her friend anywhere. Shit!

She sat up suddenly, only to find strong hands keeping her from gaining her feet.

"Calm down my lady, you are not well," Elrohir spoke but Dawn paid him no attention. Pushing his hands away she staggered to her feet. It took her only a second to register she was still aboard the ships and another to reach the rail.

"Dawn!" A voice shouted behind her and she turned back. It was Jo.

"I have to go! I have to help her!" She cried.

"That's fair enough," Elrohir spoke and Dawn jumped as he stepped up right beside her. Damn elvish stealth.

"But you won't get far without your sword," he said – passing her her scabbard. Dawn accepted it with only a slight pause.

"You're not going to stop me?" she asked suspiciously and Elrohir grinned.

"I'm getting the feeling I'd have to knock you out to do so – and I think then Legolas might kill me. But it is our job to keep you safe so I do hope you don't mind the company," he said, gesturing to Jo who stepped up beside them and nodded.

Dawn grinned.

"The more the merrier."

Elrohir bowed and gestured over the rail.

"After you."

* * *

Dawn's first sights of the battle of Minas Tirith were not what she expected. Bodies – orc and man, as far as the eye could see. Much of the remaining fighting was taking place closer to the walls of the city. The outer fields were a veritable burial pit. Little moved and that that did didn't take long to stop. Dawn, Jo and Elrohir ran through the bodies, dodging spears and jumping the dying, Dawn following the pit of darkness in her gut to it's source. She only hoped she wasn't too late.

They hit the fighting suddenly. The orcs were scattered and practically defeated but still dangerous in their desperation. They had no escape and so they fought anything that moved.

Dawn hit and slashed with abandon, her skill coming easily. She fell into a rhythm that carried her through her foes – cutting her passage through the fighting. Her only thought was to get to Eowyn – this was perhaps why she missed the seemingly dead orc below her feet rolling over – one last stab left in it.

"Dawn!"

She heard Elrohir's voice too late as the orc rose up growling behind her. She turned, but too late to stop the orc's blade falling towards her.

And then she didn't have to.

The orc gurgled once before sliding off the sword. Dawn didn't see it land. She couldn't have taken her eyes off it's killer if she'd tried. Hooded and cloaked – the Nazgûl seemed to blot out the daylight before her, carrying with it a darkness that both terrified and strangely enough, comforted her.

"No! Dawn!" Elrohir cried somewhere off to her side but his voice sounded very far away.

"I know you don't I?" She said to the figure, her mind seeming to become heavy as the world grew shadowed around her. In front of her, the figure inclined it's head.

"How?" she asked.

The Nazgûl stepped forward and she didn't back away – even as it lifted one gauntletted hand towards her. The metal was cool against her face and she closed her eyes at the familiarity.

"My lady," the cold voice hissed and Dawn opened her eyes to bright sunlight, blue skies and the heady smell of sweet flowers.

"My lady," the voice said again, but this time warmly. Dawn looked up to find a lined face, handsome in years and regal looking down upon her. The crown atop his brow glinted in the sunlight.

"I'm sorry," she said with a smile. "It seems I was daydreaming again."

"Indeed," the King chuckled. "Sometimes I wonder if you don't prefer the company of your dreams to that of us folk in the real world."

Dawn stuck her tongue out at the teasing – earning her another chuckle before she allowed her arm taken once more and the pair continued their walk through the gardens.

"I cannot deny I value my dreams. They keep me company. It seems everyone is busy of late. You with your kingdom. My lord with his forging..." Dawn sighed. "And me left to keep hidden. Sometimes I envy even the ugly creatures on guard at the wall – at least they get to stretch their legs once in a while."

"Oh hush now," the King said. "The day you envy those foul creatures is the day I shall eat my sword. You have heard the Lord Sauron – it is only a little while longer that you should keep hidden. He simply does not want you-"

"Used against him, yes my lord I know the spiel," Dawn sighed. "I just wish it seemed he cared more for me...and less for what runs through my veins."

The King brought them to a stop once more with a frown.

"What do you mean by that?"

Dawn sighed a little once more, lowering her eyes in defence of the prickling starting behind them.

"My lady?"

Dawn could only shake her head before the King took her hands and led her to a nearby bench.

"Please tell me what ails you," he spoke softly.

Dawn took a breath and looked up even as the first tear trekked down her cheek. For a moment her eyes caught his before she looked around the gardens before them. They were beautiful – full of ever-green trees and sweet blossoms.

"He had this garden made for me – when first I came to Mordor. He said he wanted me to have a reminder of home. Those first weeks here were some of the happiest of my life." Pausing, she turned to the King beside her. "I loved him. I would have given him my life if he'd asked it. Instead he asked for my blood."

"Your blood?" the King asked in confusion.

"I am not all you think I am my lord, I carry within my veins a great power. A gift from the Valar."

The Kings eyes widened suddenly.

"You are the Daughter..." he said, his voice hushed in awe. Dawn nodded – the stories of her had spread then.

"And I'm beginning to fear my gift is being used for ill." she whispered.

A breeze swept over them then, bringing with it the reek of the outer gate. The King frowned.

"Sauron's forging..." he said slowly, as if following a train of thought. His gasp of realisation was ragged.

"The rings!" he cried, standing abruptly and prying at his gauntlet. It took him only moments to find the catch and pull it loose. He froze upon sight of his hand.

"We are too late," Dawn spoke from the bench as the King turned horrified eyes on her. "I have doomed us all."

Her eyes fell closed as the King screamed - the blackness rotting from the ring on his finger digging deeper into his flesh.

Darkness took her but the screams seemed to follow as the world again exploded into light and sound.

"Dawn!"

Dawn opened her eyes as she felt the cold metal leave her cheek – gifting her four deep scratches as it went. It took her only a moment to see the cause of the interruption. Jo. His sword flashed green as he drove the Nazgûl back – it's screeching cutting into her mind. Then suddenly something else was as well.

_"I am no man."_

The voice ghosted through her mind as if from far away and Dawn had only a second to register who it was before it hit her. Pain – like nothing she'd ever felt. She could only gasp raggedly as her knees went out from under her. Then – as suddenly as it begun, it was gone - leaving behind it a spark of something in her mind that hadn't been there before.

"Dawn," a voice spoke beside her and it was only then she registered the arms around her. Turning she looked into the face of Elrohir who's eyes widened.

"What?" she asked raggedly.

"Were your eyes always green my lady?"

Oh. Crap.

* * *

The battle was over. Mordor's armies were dead or fleeing. The Nazgûl had disappeared following their leader's demise. All that was left was to bury the dead – and tend to the wounded should they find them in time.

But Aragorn had one other task before him.

"Release us," the dead king growled lowly.

"Bad idea," Gimli spoke up next to him. "Very handy in a tight spot these lads, despite the fact they're dead."

"You gave us your word-"

"He does that a lot," a new voice broke in and Aragorn turned just in time to catch the full force of Dawn's punch to the side of his face. He staggered back from the blow, already tasting blood as Elrohir and Legolas rushed to pull the girl back.

"You knew!" She screamed, struggling against the arms holding her back, anguish in her voice. "You knew and you didn't tell me!"

"I only found out two days ago," Aragorn said softly, wiping the blood from his lip. "I was going to tell you."

"Before or after you released us?" Jo suddenly said, stepping out of the sea of green soldiers.

"Jobas!" the dead king said sharply and Dawn very suddenly froze, her eyes turning to Jo.

"Jobas? Your name is Jobas?"

Very slowly, Jo nodded and Elrohir and Legolas stepped back from her as Dawn turned then to the King. Aragorn could imagine what she saw – her eyes painting flesh on him and giving him colour. Remembering him as he once was – remembering him as her father.

"You were just going to leave," she whispered. "You weren't going to speak to me."

"I have nothing to say," the King growled.

"I am your daughter!" she cried and it was only luck and Elrond's lengthy teachings that made it possible for Aragorn to understand her for she spoke in a tongue long fallen into disuse – that of the men of the White Mountains.

For long moments the only sound on the heath was the wind through fallen flags, then the King stepped forward.

"You are not my daughter. My daughter died three thousand years ago," he said harshly before turning to Aragorn. "Now release us!"

"No! Look at me! I am her – I remember-"

The King growled, whipping back to face her.

"Memories do not make a person!" he roared and something in Dawn's face seemed to crack a little. For a second Aragorn thought she was going to collapse before her eyes suddenly hardened, her form straightening. It was as though a thread of steel had gone through her – a manifestation of the setting of her mind.

"Memories are all I am," she said, her voice betraying her with a slight shake even as her gaze held hard. "And they are real."

She held the King's glare a moment more before turning from him.

"Release them," she said stonily.

"No!" Jo cried out, striding forward and gripping Dawn by the shoulders. "No I want to stay, I can't lose you again."

Aragorn watched as the first tears spilled down Dawn's cheeks as she took Jo into her arms.

"You never lost me," she whispered. "I'm so sorry Jobas, I should have listened to you."

"Don't go," Jo said thickly, the tongue of the White Mountains seemingly adding to the sorrow of his words.

"I will always remember you – Jo and Jobas," she smiled. "And don't think you'll get away from me for long. I'll find you wherever you hide, I always did."

"It is time," Gandalf's voice suddenly broke in and Aragorn looked to the white wizard before glancing once more to Dawn. The girl nodded – her eyes back on the dead King who glared angrily back.

Aragorn sighed.

"Go then. I hold your oaths fulfilled. Be at peace."

He watched as the dead king hardly wavered before seeming to grow indistinct before his eyes.

"I love you father," Dawn said softly and Aragorn thought he saw the King sag a little just before the sun broke through the cloud and the air was suddenly clear of the dead.


	27. Walking wounded

The mirror was polished to perfection – like most everything else in the upper circles of Minis Tirith. The fighting hadn't reached high enough to tarnish the rich sections of the city. Because of this it was a study in contrasts to see the wounded carted through the streets of the nobles to the healing houses. A lot of bloody, dirt encrusted people cared for amidst pristine white walls. Dawn thought it strangely appropriate.

She herself was as clean as the walls and sheets around her. She was of the walking wounded – one of those set to work tending those in worse shape than herself. Dawn didn't mind. If nothing else it earned her a bath as the head matron was well ahead of the times when it came to preventing infection from spreading. It also allowed her to keep an eye on Eowyn who still hadn't awoken from her Ring-wraith induced coma. In a twisted sort of way Dawn welcomed the worry for her friend. It kept her from other, more complicated thoughts.

Dawn cocked her head slightly at herself in the mirror.

The scratches on her face were prominent and were what had earned her a place in the healing houses. Aragorn had taken a look at them the first chance he'd got. Dawn hadn't really got the big deal until the nature of the Nazgûl's weapons was explained. Dawn the Ring Wraith. Didn't really have a good sound to it. Aragorn had personally washed out her wounds before smearing a heinous smelling cream onto her cheek. That had been a day and a half ago.

She'd been told to watch the scratches closely for change of any kind and so Dawn had become used to checking herself in the mirrors around the halls of healing every so often. She only wished it was just the wounds she was watching for.

Her eyes were blue again – they had faded not long after the release of the dead. If she looked closely though she could catch glints of green around the iris – Dawn didn't know if this was a new acquirement or just something she hadn't taken the time to notice before. That bothered her. What other things hadn't she noticed? What else might have changed? In many ways Dawn thought she was losing herself. Her face, her instincts, her memories...

It was fuzzy and often jagged but she remembered...everything.

Growing up in the mountains. Playing hide and seek with Jobas. She remembered Sauron and the deep flutter in her stomach as he'd courted her. And she remembered the horror of discovering what she had helped him do...and the realisation of what she must do to end it.

Dawn squeezed her eyes shut. Sometimes she thought it was too much. No one's brain was built to sustain two lives, two sets of memories...one of them her own death. She didn't even know who she was anymore. Dawn Summers, The Daughter, Wren...sometimes they all blended in her head until she felt sick with the confusion. She'd never wanted to forget so much in her life.

Shaking her head she opened her eyes once more to the girl in the mirror staring back.

"Get a grip," she whispered to herself.  
_  
Please._

* * *

Gandalf looked around the throne room at the assembled group. The company was strangely appropriate given the circumstances – each party representing a different rule. Haldir of Lorien, Legolas of Mirkwood, Gimli of the Dwarves, Elrohir of Rivendell, Eomer of Rohan, Pippin and Merry of the Shire and finally Aragorn, heir to the throne of Gondor. It was a powerful group – but then that's what he was counting on.

As if drawn by his very thoughts the doors at the end of the room parted and the last of their gathering made her entrance. Gandalf smiled in welcome but could feel the strain of it on his features.

"Sorry I'm late." Dawn said softly, coming level with them with a sure yet heavy stride. It pained Gandalf to see it. Gone was the innocent girl he'd met in Fanghorn forest, the girl who'd tripped and fallen into their world. In her place stood a woman, burdened with memories of darkness and evil. She was bowed with it – he could see it clearly. Yet there was hope yet. The strength of her held firm, he could see it in her eyes, eyes he had seen flash green not too long ago.

Nodding his head to her he waited for her to take her place between Legolas and Pippin before clearing his throat.

"Thank you all for coming," he said perfunctorily. "These are dark days. This battle we may have won but it is hardly the war. Sauron endures behind his walls."

"Bah! Let him rot!" Gimli growled. "Why should we care."

"Because," Aragorn spoke up, sharing a look with Gandalf before glancing at the lady Dawn. "Besides leaving Frodo and Sam to contend with ten thousand orcs between them and mount Doom...it will avail us little to expect the Dark Lord to stay behind his walls for long."

"He is beaten, surely he will take time to regroup?" Legolas said worriedly.

"No," Aragorn said lowly. "We have something he desires."

"As far as we know the Ring is already in Mordor – what else would force his hand thus?" Eomer asked gruffly. Gandalf watched as Aragorn opened his mouth to answer but was cut off before he started.

"Me," Dawn said suddenly, her voice quiet yet firm. "He'll come for me."

Gandalf watched the shock of her words play through the group a moment before he took the opportunity to re-take the floor.

"This is a strong gathering," he declared gravely. "Representatives of all the free people's of Middle Earth are here in this room – just like another meeting I had the privilege of attending recently. Like that meeting too, here will be brought to light a deep secret of old. You all know of the power and force of the One Ring, one story I doubt you've heard the whole telling of it's it's origins... "

* * *

Dawn watched the faces around her as the story of the Daughter and her part in the forging of the Ring unfolded. Merry and Pippin mostly looked curious. Elrohir, Haldir and Eomer looked grave. Aragorn of course had heard it before and so was doing as she was – watching the reactions. Elrohir was the first to connect the dots – she saw the moment his eyes widened and skipped straight to her. Dawn could only hold his gaze for a moment before she looked away. It was better than how she was handling Legolas though – she had yet to even risk a glance in his direction, too afraid of what she might see.

"The Daughter perished upon the downfall of Sauron. Her body fell from the peaks of the Black Tower," Gandalf said before Eomer's grunt interrupted him.

"Killed for her betrayal," he scoffed and Dawn's head whipped up fast, a sharp rebuke on her tongue before another voice beat her to it.

"You're wrong," Pippin said softly to Eomer before turning his serious gaze to Dawn. She saw it straight away – the knowledge in the Hobbit's normally laughing eyes. He remembered the vision in the Palantir – he remembered and he'd worked it out.

"She killed herself," the Hobbit explained to the stunned room. "She bled herself dry to stop her gift being used for ill again."

Dawn smiled a tiny smile at Pippin then.

"Tried to," she said softly and suddenly all eyes were on her. "Turns out I heal faster than I'd thought. It was the fall that killed me."

"You!" Merry spoke suddenly. "You're the Daughter?"

Dawn nodded.

"I'm sorry," Elrohir interrupted suddenly. "How is this possible? The Daughter lived over three thousand years ago and, if I'm now to understand, died over three thousand years ago also."

"The gift granted the Daughter by the Valar is everlasting. When the Daughter perished the gift simply...moved on," Gandalf explained.

"Moved on? To where?" Eomer asked.

"To my world," Dawn spoke up. "Well, it ended up there anyway – it may have passed through a few other dimensions before that."

"Dimensions?" Eomer inquired and Dawn sighed slightly. Here we go again.

* * *

Legolas listened to the story for the second time. The telling of Dawn's world. Her friends and family - her warrior sister and finally the goddess and the ritual. Only this time there was a name for the property the Goddess Glory so coveted. The something in the blood. Dawn was the Key – her own world's name for the Daughter. She carried within her a power great enough to beget the one ring. It was a heady thing to connect the girl who had tumbled out of a tree on top of him not too long ago to a potential of this magnitude. It was even worse when his feelings for said girl were thought upon.

He'd realised it in the single moment it had taken her to wrap her arms about him aboard the ships before docking. The scent of her; the feel of her in his embrace. He'd never wanted to let go. More than the thrill at watching her fight, more even than his fear of losing her at Sauroman's tower – that single moment of peace among the chaos had been his undoing. He'd realised he'd fallen in love.

And now this.

Ilúvatar's gifted. He had fallen in love with one touched by the creator. And yet, as he watched her speak; listened to the cadence of her voice, it seemed ludicrous to think of it thus. This was just....Dawn. Beautiful, strong, stubborn, often confusing and always brave Dawn. It was the girl that had captured his heart and it was the girl for whom he now worried. Because for all her sure voice and strong stance she still had yet to even glance in his direction. An untrained eye would have called it uncaring. But then an untrained eye would have missed the shaking of her hands.

* * *

Haldir listened to the lady's story with dread in his heart as his mind turned inwards.

The dreams. They had started not long following the battle of Helms Deep, during the nights of travel it took to reach the white tower of Sauroman. Deep, calm but also urgent, he had known them for what they were immediately – missives from the White Lady. Galadriel was using her great power to contact him; to direct him. To what end he had not known; had not realised.

Now he knew. Now he realised. And by the Valar he wished he didn't.

* * *

Dawn finished her explanations to a resounding silence. It seemed an age that the group simply stared at her before Pippin cleared his throat.

"That's amazing," he said in awe. "Twenty-four hour markets..."

No comment could have more effectively cut the tension in the room and Dawn couldn't help but smile as Merry elbowed Pippin in the side.

"So," Eomer spoke up in a far more serious tone. "Sauron will come for the Lady Dawn."

"We can hold him off," Legolas said vehemently. And Dawn looked up at the force of his words. She couldn't doubt that he made protectiveness look attractive even as a little voice in the back of her head reminded her his worry was most likely for the Key now.

"Not forever," Gandalf said solemnly. "And certainly not if the ring falls into his grasp once more."

"There is still hope for Frodo and Sam." Aragorn spoke up. "They need time and safe passage across the plains of Gorgoroth."

"How?" Gimli asked gruffly.

Dawn watched as the ranger stepped forward, fixing each one of them in turn with a level stare. This was definitely the future King in him speaking then.

"Draw out Sauron's armies," Aragorn pronounced. "Empty his lands. We will gather our full strength and march on the black gate."

Dawn gaped at the man along with everyone else as Gimli promptly had a coughing fit.

"Ah my dear Elessar, ever the dreamer," Elrohir said, his tone sarcastic.

"We cannot hope for victory through strength of arms," Eomer stepped forward.

"Not for us," Aragorn replied. "But we can give Frodo his chance if we keep Sauron's eye fixed upon us. Keep him blind to all else that moves."

"Sauron will suspect a trap," Gandalf warned. "He will not take the bait."

The use of the word bait had Dawn a little uneasy just on principle. The way Aragorn's gaze shifted directly to her as he replied only pronounced the feeling.

"Oh I believe he shall."

Dawn's heart thudded somewhere in the vicinity of her stomach even as Gandalf's eyes followed Aragorn's before widening in realisation.

"You cannot be serious!" Gandalf barked. "You know the consequences should she fall into the hands of the enemy!"

"Yes, and I also know those consequences to be moot should he possess the ring first!"

Dawn took a step back as the argument only escalated from there – Legolas, Gimli and even Eomer becoming involved. For her part, as she sat back watching her friends fight over her fate, Dawn felt...numb. She'd never really grasped what it was to be the Key – to hold so much power inside of her that whole countries would war for it. It was awing, wholly terrifying and yet at the same time...infuriating.

Dawn blinked.

Yes, there it was again. That spark of indignant anger inside of her. The part of her that raged at the world and stomped her proverbial feet in frustration. The part that was Dawn Summers, irate kid sister of the Slayer. This was ridiculous. She may be the Key but that didn't stop her being a person. Raw power was all well and good but this raw power had a personality – and a stubborn one at that.

Setting a determined frown on her face Dawn stepped into the melee, lifting her fingers to her lips and letting out a piercing whistle as she went. The bickering ceased abruptly, all eyes turning incredulously to her as she glared at the group.

"If you're all quite finished," Dawn said loudly. "Maybe you'll allow me some input into this whole using me as bait thing."

Gandalf was the first to recover, stepping forward.

"The risk is too great," he said. "The power the Dark Lord could wield through your use is even greater than that of the ring."

Dawn looked at Aragorn. The expression on his face as he looked back was hard yet pained. Dawn could see the strain it was putting on him to suggest what he was – to suggest sending a friend to all but certain death. It was the same look she'd seen on her sister's face more than once, when hard decisions had to be made. It was probably for this reason Dawn couldn't be upset with him. He was going to make an excellent king provided they survived to see him crowned.

"No, Aragorn's right," she said softly. "It's the only way – to give Frodo a chance."

Gandalf sighed gravely.

"If Sauron claims you before the ring is destroyed-"

"Then I will escape him the same way I did as the Daughter," Dawn interrupted sharply only to catch a great sadness stealing across the wizard's features. Her face and her voice softened.

"I will kill myself before I let him use me again," she said, watching regretfully as the pain seem to etch itself harder into the old man's features.

"Yes, a part of me fears that outcome the most I'm afraid," Gandalf said sadly and with the words came Dawn's realisation of how much Gandalf had come to care not for the Daughter or the Key but for her...for Dawn. It stunned her a moment to realise it before Elrohir suddenly spoke up.

"Well, I don't know about anyone else but I'm going to put every skill that I possess into trying to make sure it doesn't come to that," he said perfunctorily before bowing rather formally to Dawn. "I am in your service my Lady."

Dawn spluttered before being silenced as Haldir stepped up next to Elrohir and repeated the gesture.

"As am I," he said elegantly.

One by one, every man, hobbit, elf and dwarf in the room pledged fealty to her – not to the Key, but just the girl. Dawn wanted to pinch herself. It was a scene straight out of a fantasy novel – the noble knights laying down their lives in service of...what? A queen? Oh dear god...

Legolas was the last to step forward and Dawn couldn't help but catch her breath as their eyes met for the first time since the meeting began.

"By my life or death," he said softly, his gaze leaving hers for only the moment it took him to bow, his hand over his heart. "I am yours."

Oh... If any words were enough to make her forget how to breathe...

"And thus another fellowship is forged," Gandalf said happily. "And nine again, how appropriate."

Dawn could almost imagine him chuckling for all the satisfaction in his voice. Crossing her arms petulantly she tossed him a half-hearted glare. Smug bastard – he'd probably planned this all along.

She could almost say she preferred the talks of certain death.

* * *

Dawn returned to the healing houses with Merry and Pippin to discover Eowyn had awoken. Sending Pippin off to retrieve Eomer she filled the shield-maiden in on what she had missed in her sleep.

"Certain death and a small hope of success? No wonder you're excited," Eowyn said teasingly, her voice still weak but improving as she spoke. Dawn smiled as she helped her friend take a drink of water.

"Now now, don't be jealous – just because you're still recovering from the last battle," Dawn teased and Eowyn laughed lightly before succumbing to a mild coughing fit.

"Sorry," Dawn apologised laughingly as Eowyn shook her head at her.

"It's okay," the shield-maiden said. "I'm feeling a far sight better than I was."

"Yes I can see that," Dawn smiled. "It's good to see you awake – you were beginning to worry us. If it weren't for that mysterious healer-"

"Mysterious healer?" Eowyn interrupted suddenly, and Dawn looked at her strangely a moment before continuing.

"Yeah – the matron told me. All cloaked up and secretive. She didn't even see her face."

"Oh," Eowyn breathed and Dawn could have sworn she heard relief in her voice but before she could ask further Eomer burst into the room and swept his sister up into a very delicate yet relieved hug. Dawn smiled at the reunion before quietly slipping out the door – leaving the siblings to their welcomes.

There was little to do in the wards and so Dawn headed out to the balconies – a long winding path spanning the length of the healing houses that overlooked the drop to the next level of the tiered city. It had become one of her favourite haunts of late and so it shouldn't have surprised her that Legolas found her there.

Dawn swallowed nervously as she felt him step up behind her. A moment later a cloak was draped around her shoulders and she found herself burrowing into the warmth despite herself.

"You never remember a cloak," Legolas said teasingly, stepping up beside her at the railing. Dawn threw him a small smile in the glow of the torches.

"Well maybe Key's don't get cold."

Legolas raised an eyebrow at her and Dawn couldn't help but crack.

"Or maybe I'm just forgetful," she acceded.

They passed a moment in silence before Dawn finally got up the nerve to ask the question she'd been dreading since the morning.

"Are you angry with me?" She asked softly. "For not telling you about all this? About me?"

Legolas seemed to ponder a moment before answering.

"No," he said finally. "I understand that trusting someone with information such as this-"

"That's not why-" Dawn interrupted before she realised what she was doing. Just as quickly she looked away, taking a breath before continuing softly. "That's not why I didn't tell you. Trust was never the issue."

"Then why?" Legolas asked, perplexed.

Dawn focused very hard on the view of the city before her – anything to keep her eyes away from the elf at her side.

"I was...afraid," she said softly.

"Afraid of what?" Legolas coaxed.

Dawn shook her head.

"It's nothing – never mind," she said, her tone dismissive but already knowing it was futile. Legolas was a bastard for latching onto things like this. Sure enough the silence had only lasted a beat before Dawn felt his hands upon hers, turning her gently to face him.

Dawn kept her eyes downcast but bit her lip as his fingers trailed up her palms to her wrist, the sensation sending goose-bumps up her arms. She didn't realise what he was looking for until it was too late.

Her eyes widened as his touch strayed across the scar on her arm – the one made seemingly an age ago now with a simple yet sharp kitchen knife.

"You said this was a test," Legolas said softly and Dawn's breath hitched as she raised her eyes to his. The open-flame torches cast dancing shadows across his face and seemed to enhance his natural beauty. As if he needed it damn him.

"A test for what?" he asked.

"Um," Dawn struggled to find her voice. "To see...to see if I could bleed."

She swallowed then and looked down again at the scar on her arm. She'd thought she was over this. This fear of not being real. It seemed it was going to be a constant hurdle though – whenever she had to tell someone she cared for about her origins. Having to face her fear that they would turn their back on her.

"And did you?" Legolas asked, his voice quiet in the face of her contemplation. Dawn nodded yes. Yes she had bled. Enough to scare the life out of her mother and sister at any rate. She looked up once more to find Legolas watching her patiently, his head cocked slightly.

"But it wasn't enough..." he said and it wasn't a question. Dawn could see in that moment he'd worked it out – he'd watched and waited and asked just enough and just the right sort of questions to figure things out without her having to say the words. Her fear was laid bare before him and Dawn found she couldn't look away, waiting for his reaction.

When it came, it was most definitely not what she'd been expecting.

The elf stepped forward, impossibly closer in the darkness and raised a hand to her cheek. Dawn felt herself paralysed by the moment, her breath held as his fingertips trailed across her jaw to her chin. One tweak upwards and her lips were in line with his. Then he stopped. Dawn felt very sure she was about to have a heart attack.

"What do you feel?" Legolas asked softly.

"Apart from the mind numbing frustration you mean?" Dawn said shakily.

Legolas chuckled and Dawn had to struggle to keep her knees in a solid state at the sound of it. Had his laugh always been so low and...distracting? She knew what he was trying to prove though – what the feel of him so close was supposed to invoke. The funny thing was it was working.

"Real," she whispered. "I feel real."

And she did. The pounding of her heart, the feel of his heat on her palms that rested on his chest – all of it served to remind her. The emotion though – the emotion was the clincher. Her head was light with it and her heart...oh her heart...

Dawn breathed in the terrifying realisation of just what her attraction to Legolas had blossomed into. Deeper, bigger and somehow more substantial. So this is what falling in love was like.

Dawn watched as Legolas smiled down at her a moment before his eyes dropped to her lips and suddenly he was leaning in...

"Dawn! We-oh!"

Dawn jumped at the interruption and she and Legolas broke apart swiftly. Dawn could have kicked something. Unfortunately for him Pippin was looking like a good candidate right about now. The poor hobbit looked completely clueless as he grinned at them. Merry for his part beside him looked horrified at the part he'd played in the interruption.

"What?" Dawn asked, succeeding very well she thought at keeping the growl out of her voice.

"Gandalf says he wants to see you," Pippin delivered happily.

"Tell Gandalf I'll be there in a moment," Dawn said, turning back to the railing.

"He said it was rather urgent – ow!" Pippin yelped the last and Dawn turned back to him to find Merry had elbowed his clueless friend none-too-subtly. "What! He did!"

Dawn looked from the Hobbits to Legolas and back before swearing quite colourfully and stomping off in search of Gandalf.

The poor wizard never knew what hit him.


	28. Last march

The day of the march Dawn returned to the healing houses to say goodbye to Eowyn. The knowledge weighing on Dawn's mind that she may not return made it a heartfelt affair – though Eowyn seemed positive that they would meet again.

"You will not lose my friendship so easily my lady Dawn," the shield-maiden assured her, making Dawn laugh at her formality.

Dawn tried to voice how much her friendship with Eowyn had meant to her in the short time they had known each other but after the third clumsy start she had had to be satisfied with being pulled into a long and telling hug. When she'd pulled back the shield-maiden had had tears in her eyes.

"Be safe," she'd whispered vehemently and Dawn had grinned at her.

"Well now that's not really the point is it?" She'd said teasingly, earning herself a scolding.

In the end she'd left her friend with a promise to watch after herself and lift her elbow a touch higher when swinging her blade. Eowyn – ever the instructor.

Dawn had been grinning as she left her friends rooms, her mind fully elsewhere which is probably why she hadn't noticed the man until she'd run smack into him.

"Oh! Oh sorry!" Dawn cried, watching worriedly as the man grimaced at the impact – one hand coming up to his shoulder where fresh bandage could be seen beneath his tunic.

"Oh trust me to hit the wounded guy," she berated herself which caused the stranger to chuckle.

"I think you'll find yourself hard-pressed to find a healthy man to run into in these halls my lady," he said with a wince and Dawn had to smile, even as she took his arm and led him to a spare bench along the hall.

"Here, sit," she directed. "Would you like me to get a healer?"

The man shook his head.

"No, there is no need – thank you anyway," he said. "I was just on my way to visit the lady Eowyn."

Dawn's best friend radar went into overdrive. So this was the mystery man from the balconies. Eowyn had mentioned him in passing when Dawn had enquired whether she was being kept entertained with many visitors – she might not have thought much on it except Eowyn had blushed like a schoolgirl when he'd come up. She hadn't had a chance to properly interrogate her friend what with the impending march to her death to be concerned with but now it seemed she didn't have to.

Dawn grinned at the man.

"What a coincidence – I've just come from there," She said happily. "Do you not think Eowyn a stunning specimen of womanhood?"

Dawn watched gleefully as the poor man turned beetroot red before taking pity on him and holding out her hand.

"But I'm getting ahead of myself – my name's Dawn," she introduced herself.

The man seemed to pause a moment then, his eyes losing their humour for a second before he smiled and took her hand.

"I might have known," he said softly. "Merry and Pippin talk of you constantly. My name is Faramir."

Oh. Dawn's face fell. _Oh._

"Faramir as in..."

"As in brother to Boromir yes," Faramir said with a sad smile.

Dawn's thoughts turned back to her first moments in the world of Middle Earth – to the first of it's fighters she'd seen fall.

"I'm so sorry for your loss," she said sincerely. "I never got the opportunity to get to know your brother but I've heard he was a good man."

Faramir nodded.

"I understand," he hesitated before continuing. "I heard from the hobbits that you saw him fall."

Dawn swallowed.

"Yeah I did," she said before suddenly a thought occurred to her and she reached around to untie her scabbard from her belt.

"I have something actually that belonged to him," she said as the sword came loose and she was able to lay it across Faramir's lap. The man's eyes widened in recognition.

"How did this come to you?" he asked, unsheathing the blade and watching the play of light along the steel.

"I took it up as he died," Dawn said softly. "Managed to kill a couple of orcs with it too 'till they disarmed me."

"And you have used it since?" Faramir asked and Dawn nodded before her eyes suddenly widened.

"Is that bad? Should I not have? Because Aragorn said-"

Faramir's chuckle cut her off and Dawn breathed a little easier upon seeing the man was not about to pounce on her for disrespecting his brother's memory.

"From the tales I have heard of you my lady your use of this blade does my brother's memory a credit," Faramir said, re-sheathing the sword before placing it back in her hands.

Dawn tried to resist a moment.

"Oh no I-"

"Boromir passed the sword to you," Faramir interrupted. "The blade is yours now."

Dawn hesitated a moment, searching Faramir's face for any sign of malcontent before nodding.

"I trust you will use it as well as you have been my Lady," Faramir smiled and Dawn couldn't help but smile back as her grip tightened around the scabbard.

* * *

Dawn looked back at Minas Tirith only once as she followed Aragorn across the plains towards Osgiliath and beyond. It was to be half a day's ride to the black gates and Dawn had a feeling her heart was going to be thundering heavily the entire way.

Mildred hadn't been seen since she'd left the horse at the war camps beneath the White Mountains despite Brego and Arod making it back to Aragorn and Legolas without much trouble. Dawn had had an uncomfortable sense of guilt at the thought of her horse falling in the battlefield as a new one had been granted her. The steed she now rode was called Bolvinger and was a stuck-up as the name suggested. He was Faramir's horse though and had single-hoofedly saved the man from certain death just recently which she supposed counted toward the beast somewhat. Faramir had been insistent she take him just in case she was to need saving on her quest.

Dawn couldn't help but think the horse was going to need to join the queue.

Her very own fellowship seemed to be taking their job of protecting her exceedingly seriously. With the exception of Aragorn that led them and Gandalf who rode at the ranger's right hand, everyone else who had been at the meeting that revealed the Key was positioned in a fairly obvious guard formation around her as they rode. Dawn didn't think she'd ever rolled her eyes more in her life. The only upside was it positioned Legolas quite nicely beside her where she could steal pervy glances every now and then without craning her neck.

She hadn't had a chance to talk to him alone since their...whatever it was on the balcony. Her lips still tingled when she thought how close they'd got to actually kissing. Her and Legolas...kissing... It was almost enough to distract her from the impending doom. Almost.

* * *

They came upon the gates just as the sun hit it's highest point and Dawn gaped along with everyone else at the picture before them. They were challenging this? No wonder Gimli had had a coughing fit. Dawn had to crane her neck to see the battlements atop the monstrous feat of engineering – that alone would have been enough to chill her blood but it wasn't what set her heart racing. It was the feeling.

The pressure had been building with every step she'd taken towards Mordor. Starting as a buzz at the edges of the swamp it had grown until it was a tangible ache in her head. She could feel the ring – it was so close now she could almost hear it whispering in her head. And worse even than that she could feel him – Sauron. His darkness pressed upon her mind with a viscous hunger that made her want to physically retch.

For the first time since Gandalf had inadvertently interrupted her and Legolas on the balconies with his missive Dawn was glad he had. She'd gone to him that day, full of righteous frustration only to be sat down and sternly warned of what the effects may be of her coming within proximity of the Dark Lord.

"He is part of the Ring and so a part of you," Gandalf had said. "He will use that connection if he can to break into your mind. You must fight him."

Gandalf had shown her the basics of shielding herself – centring her mind and closing it to outside forces. It hadn't been much he'd said but it was all he'd been able to do with such short notice.

"I will be taking as much of the pressure onto myself as I can but I will not be able to fully protect you from the ill-effects," he'd said seriously.

Dawn looked to the wizard now and saw the effort on his features; his brows drawn together in a pinch and his mouth set in a hard line. To anyone not aware his face would have seemed simply grave but Dawn knew what he must be dealing with. Especially if she was only getting the spill-over.

"Dawn are you well?" Legolas asked quietly beside her and Dawn turned to find him and Gimli watching her worriedly. God did she really look that bad?

"I'm fine," she offered up with a strained smile. "Really."

Any more inquiries were cut short as the company halted, the army falling into ranks behind their group as all eyes turned to the black gates. For a full moment of silence nothing happened before Pippin spoke up.

"Where are they?" he asked, aptly vocalising what they were all thinking.

Dawn watched as Aragorn shared a look with Gandalf before turning back to her.

"Stay here," he ordered and Dawn scoffed.

"Like hell," she said loudly and watched as Aragorn rolled his eyes.

"Please Dawn-"

"No," she interrupted. "I'm bait right? What use is bait if it can't be seen?"

Aragorn shared another look with Gandalf who seemed to say with his eyes 'this was your idea' before the ranger sighed and gave up.

"Very well, but stay close," he ordered before urging Brego forward. Dawn and Gandalf followed, the rest of their group falling in around them.

The gates loomed before them closer and closer and they were almost to the point of touching them before Aragorn drew them to a halt once more.

"Let the lord of the black land come forth!" Aragorn called upwards. "Let justice be done upon him!"

Again silence.

"Maybe no one's home," Elrohir offered and Dawn couldn't help the smirk that escaped her even as the gates finally creaked their open. The orc that emerged from within was like nothing Dawn had ever seen. Lanky and putrescent, it was clothed in what seemed rags at first until one looked closer and realised they were robes. The helmet upon it's head was large and misshapen, leaving no slit or hole for vision but showing only the beast's mouth. It's very scary, very tooth-filled mouth.

"My master, Sauron the Great bids thee welcome," the thing said and Dawn couldn't help but stare in fascinated horror at the way it's lips moved.

"Is there any of this group with the authority to treat with me?"

"We do not come to treat with Sauron, faithless," Gandalf spoke up. "Tell your master this. His armies must disband. He is to depart these lands, never to return again."

Dawn watched as the thing scoffed.

"Old Grey-beard," it said laughingly. "I have a token I was bidden to show thee."

The uncomfortable shifting of the group was palpable as the thing reached into a pouch before it and pulled into the light a shirt that shone like diamonds. Dawn didn't recognise it herself but the remaining members of the original fellowship seemed to.

"Frodo," Pippin whispered and Dawn understood. The creature hefted the chain-mail towards Gandalf who caught it with a look of horror upon his features.

"Frodo!" Pippin said louder and Dawn caught the orc's sharp look towards the name.

"Silence," Gandalf directed hurriedly.

The orc before them grinned and Dawn shivered despite herself.

"The halfling was dear to thee I see," it taunted. "Know that he suffered greatly at the hands of his host. Who would have thought one so small could endure so much pain."

Dawn watched as Gandalf passed the shirt to Pippin in front of him – the look of anguish on the poor hobbits face finally her last straw. Narrowing her eyes she urged Bolvinger a step as she leaned forward.

"Aren't you forgetting something emissary?" she asked loudly and the orc's face whipped to her with a suddenness. "The part of the story where the halfling escaped you?"

"You cannot know this," the orc taunted, but Dawn caught the uncertainty in it's voice nonetheless. Ignoring Gandalf's warning look she pressed forward.

"I can and I do," she said viciously before smiling a mirror of the orcs mocking greeting back at him. "Be sure to tell your master I'll be collecting on that blood he owes me."

The shock on the orcs face was obvious – even with most of it covered. It's grotesque mouth gaped open for a long moment before it recovered enough to turn back to Gandalf.

"You bring the Lord Sauron a stately gift Gandalf," it said gleefully. "He will be most pleased."

Dawn could practically hear every hand in the vicinity itching for a weapon at those words. Aragorn was the only one who moved, riding forward with a practised nonchalance.

"And who is this?" the orc asked, his focus switching to the ranger. "Isildur's heir? It takes more to make a king than a broken elvish blade-"

The stupid creature never even saw the blow coming. Aragorn swung with a great cry and lopped the orc's head clean from his shoulders. Dawn could have cheered.

"I guess that concludes negotiations," Gimli said sarcastically from the horse beside her and Dawn threw the dwarf a quick grin before turning back as Aragorn spoke.

"They seek to break our hope," he said vehemently to the party. "But they will not succeed."

"Frodo's alive," Dawn spoke up with a nod. "I wasn't making things up. I have dreams – I had one last night. The Ring has not changed hands. Frodo still has it."

Their conversation was cut short as a great creaking went up through the gate above them before the gap made for the fallen emissary began to widen. Dawn hardly needed Aragorn's cry to fall back to turn tail and gallop back to the army behind them – the view of the horde marching from the gates was enough to get her moving.

As they rode up the army of men shifted nervously in their ranks and Dawn watched the fear steal over their faces. They had all rode out intending to face the impossible and now they were. Dawn found she couldn't begrudge them their fear.

"Stand your ground!" Aragorn yelled authoritatively. "Hold your ground!"

And then began the speech. It was harrowing and inspirational and everything a kingly speech aught to have been. Or at least Dawn was assuming it was, she'd become rather distracted the moment she'd brought Bolvinger around to face the gates once more. The black lands were opened and her armies spilling forth – but that wasn't what made Dawn's blood run cold in her veins.

It was him. Sauron. For the first time outside of her nightmares she was faced with the Eye. And it had caught sight of her.

It's renewed hunger and possession was almost a physical blow and Dawn gasped raggedly, doubling over in her saddle as a dark voice spoke in her head.

_"My love, you have come home to me..."_

"Dawn? Dawn!"

Legolas' voice seemed very far away but his grip upon her arms, holding her steady was as real as ever. Dawn gritted her teeth against the invasion of her mind and, grasping Legolas' hand tightly, pushed back with all her might.

"You won't have me again you son of a bitch," she ground out and with one final heave pushed Sauron's laughing presence back to the edges of her consciousness.

Breathing heavily she pushed herself back upright in her saddle and threw Legolas a grateful look as he helped her, Arod shifting slightly beneath him.

"What in the devil was that?" Gimli asked gruffly, worry painting his voice.

Dawn opened her mouth to answer but Gandalf beat her to it.

"That was Sauron using his connection with the Ring to invade Dawn's mind," he said ominously before smiling grimly. "And that was Dawn pushing him back."

"Well done my lady," Elrohir spoke up beside them. "Points for utterly terrifying us all."

Dawn couldn't help but laugh – even in the face of what they were about to charge into. A moment later Aragorn concluded his speech to riotous yells from the men behind them before their party dismounted and drew their weapons.

On all sides, the armies of Mordor surrounded them. Dawn took a breath.

"Never thought I'd die fighting side by side with an Elf," Gimli grumbled beside her and she smiled a little as Legolas' replied.

"How about side by side with a friend?" he said and Dawn spared a look to the dwarf to find an uncharacteristically soft look upon his features.

"Aye, I can do that."

"At any rate," Elrohir interrupted happily from Dawn's other side. "You're dying fighting side by side with three elves."

Haldir chose that moment to throw a solute at their dwarven companion and Dawn couldn't help but snort. Trust Haldir to get a sense of humour in the face of certain death.

Dawn watched as Gimli rolled his eyes.

"Sanity preserve me," he said emphatically.

In what seemed an instant, the armies around them stilled, having fully surrounded their quarry. An uncanny silence filled the gorge before Aragorn once more stepped forward, his sword held high. It was a moment before he turned back, looking to each of them in turn before speaking.

"For Frodo," he said simply. And then he charged.

And all followed.

The air was electric with the determination of a thousand men and Dawn found herself swept up in it along with everyone else. She hit the fighting before she even realised she'd started running and for long moments all was chaos. She hit at anything that snarled, slicing through her foes like a hot knife through butter. Around her battle-cries harmonised with death screams – friend and foe alike falling in the melee.

And all the while she could feel Sauron in her head like poison. Until suddenly she felt something else. Her head whipped up and she watched in dread as the black shapes winged towards them out of the gate. Even if she hadn't readily recognised them the tingling of the scratches on her face would have reminded her.

"Nazgûl!" she screamed in warning, cutting down the orc in front of her with a sharp blow. Spinning hurriedly she searched for her friends only to stop short at the puzzling image of Gandalf standing very still, the battle raging either side of him as he placidly watched the winding flight of a moth.

What the hell?

The deafening screech of a Nazgûl pulled her attention to the sky where one of the wraiths was bearing down fast, it's aim obviously the lone wizard.

"Gandalf!" she cried, cutting two orcs out of her way as she struggled towards her friend. But it was no use she knew – she was too far away, she'd never get there in time. And then, she didn't have to. Dawn gaped as the charging Nazgûl was met head-on by...a giant eagle?

"Eagles!" she heard Pippin cry over the battle. "The eagles are coming!"

Oh thank god she wasn't going mental. Dawn watched in awe as the giant birds wheeled and battled above her, sharp beaks and talons coming to bear on the darkness of the wraiths and their steeds. It was disconcerting to feel the shadows of the blows herself though – the Nazgûl's connection to the Ring and so herself manifesting itself.

The battle continued and Dawn fought with her friends – fought the impossible. And then the unthinkable happened. She felt the break in her mind, the burst of triumph from the ring as all sound around her was sucked away and a voice...Frodo's voice – filled her head.

_"The ring is mine..."_

Dawn staggered.

"No..."

She felt the moment he slid the ring upon his finger – she and all it's servants and worst of all, it's master. She watched the eye's gaze suddenly switch from their battle to the crags of Mount Doom as above her the Nazgûl wheeled in mid-air and set their sights on the mountain also. But not before Dawn called upon one.

She did it without thinking, ripping the walls of the defences around her mind down for a fraction of a second and exerting all her effort into summoning one of the wraiths towards her.

* * *

Legolas watched in horror as the wraith dropped like a stone towards Dawn, the suddenness of the move surprising the eagles enough that it flew by their defences. He cried out a warning but Dawn never budged, instead reaching up with her free hand and grasping the outstretched arm of the Dark Lord's servant, allowing herself to be pulled up onto it's beastly steed.

"Dawn!" he cried, mirrored a moment later by Elrohir who was watching the spectacle too. For a moment they could both only share a helpless look as the Nazgûl, ducking the swipes of the Eagles, winged back towards Mount Doom – taking the girl with it.

Legolas felled another orc blindly before Gandalf and Haldir were suddenly before him.

"Go after her!" Gandalf ordered hurriedly and Legolas didn't need to be told twice as Haldir called down three of the circling Eagles and he, Legolas and Elrohir mounted with the ease of their folk.

"Fly fast!" Gandalf cried, felling three orcs with a swing of his staff as he did. "The fate of the free world depends on your speed!"

* * *

The world was spinning.

Sam shut his eyes tight and tried to will the spots in front of his vision away. He was needed. He was still needed!

Opening his eyes again he watched as Gollum grappled seemingly with mid-air. He might have thought he was going mad for the vision if he didn't know the real horror behind it. Frodo. He'd lost his mind to the Ring – he'd claimed it and now all was lost...

His vision had begun to clear. The ground only tilted now and didn't spin as it had. Sam made it to his knees before Frodo's scream suddenly cut through his head and he watched as his friend suddenly became visible again. It took him a moment to realise why.

Frodo fell before him, clutching at his blood-covered hand – clutching at where his finger had been. And beyond him Gollum rejoiced.

"Precious! Precious!"

Sam heaved himself to his feet but still Frodo beat him to it, the Ring drawing him forward. Sam opened his mouth to cry out – to call back his friend but the words never came. Because suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder. Suddenly she was there.

Sam froze as the girl passed by him, leaving a warmth where she'd touched. He felt somehow stronger for the contact – like she'd lifted a weight from his shoulders he hadn't realised he'd been carrying. And yet she couldn't be real – she couldn't be...

He watched as she reached Frodo, pulling his friend up short just as he had been. The look of wonder on Frodo's face as he turned to her though – there was a familiarity there that Sam did not grasp.

"Shh," the vision said. "It's okay. Let it go..."

Sam watched as Frodo's eyes filled with tears at the words – a genuine sob escaping him as he sagged. Sam was there to catch him before he even realised he'd moved. He looked up in time to see the girl approaching Gollum who seemed too wrapped up in the Ring to register the approach.

"Sam..." Frodo's voice broke and Sam shifted as more of his friends weight came to bear. Then suddenly there were hands helping him – holding them both up.

Sam looked up and his eyes widened.

"Legolas?"

* * *

Dawn approached Gollum slowly. Gollum – it was strange that she knew his name and yet not. It was like she were remembering an old friend. The fact she knew the familiarity stemmed from the creature's relationship with the Ring only made the sensation creepier.

"Gollum?"

Gollum stilled in his celebrations at the sound of her voice and turned to face her slowly, a weary look in his eyes. Dawn knew his confusion. He could feel it too – his connection with her. With Frodo she'd been able to use it, touch his mind as she'd touched his shoulder and loosen the bonds the Ring had cast on him. It wasn't much but it had been enough to still the Hobbit's craving to take the Ring back. With Gollum though – Dawn wasn't sure if she was going to be enough.

She could feel the Ring finding familiar holds on Gollum's mind. Winding it's way back in with ease. It had controlled him for so long...

"Gollum, please give me the ring," she said softly.

Gollum didn't move, his fist tightening around the Ring and yet Dawn saw the flicker in his eyes. A flicker of doubt.

"Gollum please," Dawn said, kneeling down – bringing herself level with the Ring-keeper. "Please you must give it to me."

"You are-" Gollum hesitated, cocking his head to one side as if trying to figure something out. "You are part of the Precious."

Dawn felt something in her stomach clench even as she nodded.

"Yes, or rather it's part of me," she explained.

Gollum smiled then and it was a terrible thing to behold in a face so worn as his. Dawn felt herself pitying him despite herself. It was that feeling that kept her from backing away as Gollum stepped toward her, his eyes full of wonder as he placed the Ring in her hand.

"You shine," Gollum whispered to her and Dawn couldn't help but shiver. Climbing to her feet, she felt the weight of the Ring pulling at her hand. It sang to her somehow – in her mind and in her blood. The sensation terrified her. But not more than realisation that her mind; her blood...it was singing right back.

She'd suspected it since she'd begun to remember but now she knew. The connection was too strong. She'd put too much into the creation of Sauron's weapon. The Ring could be destroyed but Sauron would use her to claw back into the world. She had bound herself too fully to the both of them. Only with her gone would he truly be destroyed. And she owed that to this world. She owed that to her friends. She owed that to him.

"Dawn!"

Dawn turned at the call almost in a daze and found herself wanting to cry at the realisation that she'd been followed. Haldir, Elrohir, Frodo and Sam – they all watched her and all she might have dealt with but for him. Legolas. Oh god...

The heat at her back was a taunting cry in her mind as her fist clenched around the Ring.

* * *

Legolas approached Dawn cautiously, feeling the rock beneath him tremble with each roar from the depths below them.

"Dawn," he said again and Dawn looked up, a nameless anguish in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry," she said brokenly and Legolas frowned.

"What-"

She never allowed him to get the question out though, instead stepping into his body and crushing her lips to his.

Legolas' world spluttered to a halt and suddenly all he could feel was her. Her taste, her smell – the feel of her hands on his shoulders as she pulled herself against him... It was overwhelming and not enough all at the same time and he couldn't help wrapping his arms around her as she grasped at him, deepening the kiss so as to make them both shudder.

And then just as suddenly Dawn pulled out of his embrace with a sob, her eyes locking on his and the pain in them all but making his heart stop.

"Hold him," she whispered and Legolas frowned in confusion for a second before a strong grip suddenly found his arm and he turned to find Haldir beside him. His kinsman nodded at Dawn and Legolas' gaze swung back to her in time to see her return it. Then she took her first step back and very suddenly and with every horror Legolas realised what she meant to do.

"No Dawn!"

"I have to," she said, the tears falling freely now. And then she turned from him and ran.

* * *

"Dawn! no!"

Dawn felt Legolas' cry down to her very bones as she ran and something inside of her broke at the sound. But she did not stop. She did not falter. And as the heat of the edge rushed to meet her she let down her defences and allowed Sauron a glimpse of her fate...his fate.

Sauron's terror was all consuming and Dawn held that to her as she jumped, the heat wrapping around her like a blanket - welcoming her.

And just before the darkness claimed her a vision came to her of green eyes. Green eyes and a harsh scream.


	29. Nostalgia and Addiction

AN: I'm ridiculously sorry this chapter is so late in coming. Life hasn't been the best at staying uncomplicated lately. Hopefully this will put to rest everyone's fears that the last chapter was the final one - I mean good lord people, do you really think I'd be that cruel? :P

* * *

Things were not well in Sunnydale.

It had been two months. Two months since Glory had tried to rip her way back home. Two months since Dawn had given her life to save the world. Two months since the slayer had broken.

Buffy herself had survived the death of her sister. Her will had not.

Slowly but surely Sunnydale was falling into chaos. With no slayer to stand guard the demons were becoming ever more bold. The last attack had happened in broad daylight at the university – practically Buffy's back yard. Giles, Willow, Xander – even Anya had tried everything to reach Buffy – to snap her back to reality. But nothing worked and things were growing desperate.

That's where the idea had come from really – desperation. Buffy was lost without Dawn and so logic dictated she would be well again if her sister returned. It had led Willow to investigating just what had happened to the Key.

There had been no body – Dawn had simply...disappeared. Giles had speculated, well out of Buffy's earshot of course, that the energy from the portals had simply vaporised the girl. But Willow had had other theories. And from those theories she had devised a plan.

"Osiris hear me!"

The wind whipped through the junkyard, swaying the tower above them dangerously. Anya, Xander and Tara looked on.

And Willow fought.

She fought the forces pulling at her – trying to exert control back over reality. She fought for her friends – she fought for Buffy but ultimately...ultimately she fought for Dawn.

"Osiris let her through!" she screamed, feeling the blood from the cuts on her arms ebb and flow. "Let her through!"

Very suddenly the world was filled with white and the air around their group became hot and caustic.

"Dawn! No!"

The voice echoed from near and far all at the same time and Willow struggled to remain standing as the wind whipped around her. Then – as suddenly as it had built, everything stopped. Willow fell to her knees as the energy left her – her magic fleeing and taking her strength with it. She knew though, before she hit the ground that she'd done it.

"Dawn!" Xander's voice cut into her lethargy and Willow looked up as Tara's arms came around her, supporting her. She almost cried with relief for the sight of Dawn in Xander's arms. She'd done it. She'd done it.

"Is she alive?" Anya asked with her customary bluntness and Willow found herself holding her breath for the split second it took Xander to answer.

"Yes, she's breathing," he said, standing up – Dawn held safely in his arms. "We have to get her home."

The group agreed wordlessly and Anya began packing up the remainders of the spell. Tara settled Willow on a crate before joining her to help.

From her perch Willow watched her friends work and caught her breath. It was a heady feeling – knowing what she'd just done. Through her will alone she had dragged Dawn back from another world. She had done what even Glory had struggled with and she felt...powerful.

It was with these thoughts in her head that she looked down and spied something glinting in the dirt at her feet. Something glinting gold. Leaning down she unearthed the object.

"Ready?" Xander asked, startling her out of her thoughts and Willow looked up and nodded as her friends gathered.

"Yep – let's go," she said – leaning on Tara as she got to her feet, slipping the ring discreetly into her pocket as she went.

* * *

Dawn awoke steadily, her senses wobbling about drunkenly for a moment before falling into some semblance of order. The first thing she registered was the softness of a mattress beneath her – a sensation that jarred her at first. God, when exactly had she got used to sleeping on the hard ground? The second thing was the pain. Everything ached. She felt as though she'd been run over by something particularly large and vengeful.

She shifted experimentally only to immediately regret it as her muscles protested.

"Ow," she ground out through clenched teeth only to freeze when something shifted suddenly in the dark beside her.

"Dawn?"

For a moment Dawn could only lay there. She must have hit her head harder than she thought. She must have because that couldn't be...it just couldn't...

"B-buffy?"

Very suddenly Dawn found her arms full of sobbing sister which didn't really help her aching body. Not that she could bring herself to care because this was Buffy. Buffy who protected her, Buffy who loved her. Buffy who she thought she'd never see again. In that moment Dawn felt everything come to a head. Being ripped from her family, the days and months of fighting, discovering old lives and yes, new ones as well. Suddenly everything felt so heavy in her chest and a very real sob escaped her before she even realised it was building.

It was just the beginning.

She didn't know when she went from holding Buffy to Buffy holding her – all she could remember was clutching so hard to her sister it must have hurt, slayer strength or no. And she remembered the reassurances – broken words Buffy whispered into her hair as she rocked her.

"It's okay. Everything's going to be okay – you're home now...you're home now..." Buffy soothed, her voice soft.

For some reason, it only made Dawn cry harder.

* * *

When she next awoke it was to an empty bed. Sunlight streamed through the window, casting an almost surreal glow over the familiar room – her room. Dawn could only sit for a moment, registering the cascade of nick-knacks around her – bits and pieces collected over the years. Six months ago this had been her sanctuary but something had obviously changed in her time away. Dawn no longer felt comfortable here, just vaguely nostalgic.

Shaking off the disconcerting feeling, she threw back the flowery bed-spread and rolled her feet out of bed. The oversized yummy sushi pyjamas were hardly surprising given that Buffy had probably been the one to dress her last night after...whatever had happened to bring her back. Even so, the novelty pattern seemed to be having the same effect as the rest of her room and so Dawn changed quickly, finding a plain cargo-pants and camisole top combo that felt a little less weird on her.

Stepping out onto the landing was like stepping into a dream. Everything was familiar and yet alien. Even the smells set her off balance. Cooking oil and flowers and dust... Dawn found herself automatically missing the smell of campfire smoke, leather and horses. The wood beneath her hand on the banister was too smooth and the carpet below her too soft. The whole world seemed built to make her head spin with the familiarity and yet discomfort. Dawn was almost happy to hear the voices coming from the lounge room – anything to distract. Then she heard what they were discussing.

"We don't know where she was," Giles' voice floated up the stairs to her, the watcher sounding irate. "And we won't know until she wakes up again."

"Is that such a good idea though?" Xander broke in. "Asking her I mean? Buffy said she was pretty shaken up-"

"She was torn back from another world using a resurrection spell," Giles said roughly. "We're lucky that's all she is."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Willow's voice suddenly broke in angrily and Dawn took the opportunity to round the doorway into the lounge before the argument could start for real. Her appearance had the desired effect.

"Dawn!" Buffy said loudly, leaping to her feet. Thus began the all too familiar fuss-over-Dawn's-safety routine. Dawn was ushered into a seat on the couch, her claims that she was fine falling on deaf ears as Buffy re-arranged pillows and moved the coffee table to give her more leg room. Finally, once her sister was satisfied with her comfort Giles was given an opening to lean forward.

"How do you feel Dawn?" he asked, concern wrinkling his brow.

"I'm fine," Dawn said, feeling like a looping record. "Really – the whole dimension hopping thing just took a bit out of me is all."

The faces around her looked sceptical. All six of them. It seemed everyone had come out to see Dawn up and about. She was almost surprised Spike wasn't there.

Dawn swallowed.

"How long was I away?" she asked, directing her question at Buffy. It was the dreaded question of course. Dawn hadn't kept very good track of her time in Middle Earth but she knew approximates.

"Almost three months," her sister said, and it was very apparent just how hard those three months had been on the slayer.

Dawns brow furrowed.

"I was gone for longer than that," she said simply, regretting it a moment later when her sister's face seemed to grow even more concerned – quite a feat given the lines that were already grooving her forehead.

"How long?" Buffy asked.

"Well I'm pretty sure you guys owe me birthday presents," Dawn smiled wryly, trying to make light of the situation and failing abysmally.

Buffy's eyes widened as she did the math.

"Six months? You were gone over six months?" she said incredulously. Dawn nodded as Giles leaned forward.

"Time difference is not uncommon in dimensional travel," he said, pushing his glasses back up his nose. "We're lucky it wasn't any longer."

Dawn looked down at her hands, remembering the sensation of falling through heat. Giles didn't know how right he was.

"Dawn if you can try to remember exactly how long you were away it may give us an idea as to which dimension you were in," Giles said with the air of someone seeing books in his future. "That is if it's documented of course."

Dawn opened her mouth to reply but Buffy beat her to it.

"What does it matter where she was," she said snappily. "She's home now - that's all that matters."

Dawn watched as Giles' lips thinned in a very familiar way. Here we go again, she thought.

"It matters because we don't know what sort of world Dawn was exposed to - what sort of environment we've now exposed our own world to," Giles said exasperatedly. "Dimensional magic is difficult for a reason, two worlds are never meant to meet -"

"You're saying I shouldn't have brought Dawn back?" Willow suddenly joined the fray and Dawn couldn't help but balk a little at the look Giles then turned on the witch.

"I'm saying you should have done your research," he growled. "Not rushed into this like a rank amateur with a point to prove."

The room exploded with voices then and Dawn was treated to a first row seat to the argument that had been building as she'd first come down the stairs. Damn it all.

"Stop!" she yelled, leaping to her feet. "Just stop!"

Her yell had the effect of a whip crack. Very quickly Dawn had every pair of eyes in the room on her, except Willow who continued to glare at Giles.

"I did not survive everything I have just to come back here to you all fighting," Dawn said angrily. Turning to Willow, she finally gained the witch's full attention as she spoke. "Willow, thank you for bringing me back. I know with every certainty I would have died if you hadn't."

Ignoring Buffy's sharp intake of breath she continued.

"But Giles is right. It was a huge risk you took reaching into that world. There are things there that wouldn't do well to cross into ours."

She didn't mention that she was probably one of them.

"We got lucky," she continued, thinking of the ring. She hadn't felt it since she'd awoken and so assumed it had continued it's fall into Mount Doom in her absence. At least she hoped it had. Lord only knew what havoc it would wreak on a world not prepared for it. She looked to Giles. "I'll go through the research thing with you tomorrow," she said. "For now, I'm going back to bed."

She left a stunned silence in her wake until Xander finally spoke up.

"When did Dawn get all..." he struggled.

"Well spoken?" Giles offered.

"Well I was going to say British but that works too."

* * *

The next day was spent with Giles at the magic shop, answering a seemingly never ending series of questions about what she was coming to label in her head the Middle Earth dimension.

Geography, species, history, culture – Giles noted every answer down with unerring attention to detail. Even if it wasn't a documented dimension, he'd enthused, it would be when they were finished. Dawn answered all his questions to the best of her ability, trying and failing to muster excitement at the task. After all, when all was said and done – for Giles this was a big new shiny discovery. For her it was simply a painful reminder of what she'd lost.

And she had lost.

With every new detail Giles dragged out of her, she found herself growing more and more despondent. At some point in her time away she'd grown used to the idea that she wouldn't be returning to Sunnydale. She'd accepted Middle Earth as her dimension of residence. It had become home. It had probably helped that with the addition of her old memories the place actually was.

She missed things in a way that was more than mere nostalgia. She missed the landscape and the breeze. The way the moon rose bigger and brighter than anything she'd ever seen and the fact she could see every star in the sky. And she missed her friends.

Aragorn, Gimli, Merry, Pippin...in such a short amount of time they had become so desperately irreplaceable in her heart. She missed Elrohir's jokes and Haldir's almost-smile he did when he was trying not to find something amusing. She missed Eowyn's voice and George's raspy laugh. And Legolas...oh god Legolas...

Dawn swallowed hard and dropped her gaze, focusing very attentively on the book open before her. So far she'd done well not to think about the elf. The memory of their first and only kiss was scorched into her mind with a painful clarity. There was little doubt in her that she had loved him...that she still did. It still hadn't sunk in that she would never see him again – it was the only thing that had kept her from breaking down.

"Dawn?" Gile's voice interrupted her thoughts and Dawn looked up with a slightly startled 'hmm?'.

"Rohan," Giles repeated. "It was a human kingdom?"

Dawn nodded.

"Along with Gondor and the White Mountains when they still survived yes," she said quietly. She watched as Giles nodded and adjusted his notes accordingly before leaning back in his chair and casting an eye over the sheet in front of him.

"Well this aught to be plenty to start with," he said happily, flipping through his scrawled pages. His many, many scrawled pages. Dawn realised her mistake a split second before the puzzled frown took up on Giles' face.

"You were there approximately six months you say?" he enquired.

"Mmhmm," Dawn said, trying and failing for an innocent tone.

"But this," Giles looked up at her, tapping the papers before him. "This must be almost a lifetime of knowledge."

"Ah..." Dawn stalled. "I'm a really quick learner?"

"Dawn-" Giles started but Dawn never let him finish, leaping up to grab her bag as she spoke loudly over him.

"Gosh darn is that the time?" she exclaimed. "Have to go! Sister thank-god-you're-not-dead bonding this afternoon!"

She practically left a cloud of dust in her wake.

* * *

That night saw Dawn tossing in bed, sleep not just eluding her but making 'nyah nyah' faces as it did. Three hours after turning out the lights her restlessness got the better of her and, throwing back her covers, she attacked her wardrobe. A pair of worn jeans, tank-top and doc-martins later she was digging around beneath her bed, coming up with a short dagger and a stake. The dagger slid into her boot while the stake found it's place in her waist band. A quick check in the mirror ensured that, with jacket, the weapon barely showed.

She didn't bother checking on Buffy – she'd been hearing her sister's snores all night. When Buffy slept she slept hard.

The latch on her window took a bit of jiggling to open but it slid out soundlessly when it finally did. Checking once more the coast was clear she slid out and into the night.

* * *

Spike was not having a good night.

He'd lost three rounds of poker forcing him to scrounge the butchers for his nightly meal. Pig's blood was all well and good but it'd really help if he had a microwave back at the crypt. He was halfway tempted to crash the slayer's residence and use hers – he might have if only the group weren't still all up in their Dawn's-back euphoria. He hadn't actually seen the nibblet himself yet. He told himself repeatedly it was because he didn't want to crash the party – big-bad's weren't brilliantly welcome at a white-hat celebration after all no matter how helpful they'd been at keeping the demon population down while the slayer was on hiatus in her own head. Truth be told though, his avoidance had less to do with any form of social niceties and more to do with the matter of the nibblet's last look at him – struggling atop the tower with Doc – struggling and failing.

Spike shook his head at the invading thoughts as he rounded the gates to his cemetery, plastic bag of goodies hefted in one hand while the other fished a cigarette from his coat pocket.

It wasn't his fault. T'was just the way things went. He'd taken a tumble and...well so had little sis. Three years ago it wouldn't have bloody mattered. Hell, he'd have probably celebrated in the slayer's pain. He couldn't rightly say what had changed though he knew the talk of others. He'd been slayer-whipped it was said. Gone soft for little blonde Buffy. Hell, maybe he had a bit. Lord knew his hate of her had turned into something else. But it wasn't the all of it.

Pain, suffering – he'd always delighted in the causing but he was a creature of habit – he got attached to people. Good people, evil people – apparently it didn't matter to his screwed up mind. He'd spent most of his formative vamp years attached at the hip to Angelus and Dru and now he'd gone and continued the tradition with the white-hats. In many ways it was bloody pathetic. In other's it had been a bit of a learning experience.

The slayer and her crew had always seemed squeaky clean to him. When one looked closer though, all sorts of nasty little human failings came to the fore. Jealousy, envy, addiction... Spike found it rather funny – that the fate of the human world was so often entrusted to a group barely able to deal with the issues inherent in their own little social circle. He had no doubt the Witch bringing little sis back had stirred up trouble aplenty. She'd been showing signs for a while now that her use of magic was becoming a little too easy for her. Spike knew Giles had noticed – poncy watcher missed very little and that was going to be bad news for Red because Spike had little doubt Giles would know exactly what the signs pointed to.

Magic addiction. Nasty bloody business.

Spike paused a moment at the door of his crypt as he struck a match and lit the fag dangling from his lips. It was in the moment of silence as he inhaled that he heard it.

Fists hitting flesh and a distant grunt of pain. Someone was having a throwdown – and in his cemetery no less. How bloody rude.

Pushing the door to his crypt in, Spike tossed his blood and extra ciggies onto the couch before turning towards the direction of the fighting, pulling the door shut behind him. It didn't take long to find the source of the noises. He'd worked out once the sound of the fight became clearer that it wasn't the slayer – it lacked the distinctive crashes of bodies flying into gravestones to be anyone particularly super-strong. His next thought was the whelp and his ex-demon. The more human members of the Slayer circle had taken to patrolling a bit when Buffy had taken a hiatus in her own head just after Dawn had taken the dive. What he found upon rounding the last mausoleum however had him choking on a cigarette for the first time in forty years.

It was Dawn. At least, the girl looked like Dawn. The fact she was wailing rather effectively on a six foot vampire made Spike double check despite himself. He watched as the girl ducked a blow by the growling vampire before her, using the opening to extend up and catch the creature a solid blow under his ribcage.

It wasn't a hard hit – without the impact of super-strength behind it the vampire recovered quickly but not quickly enough to stop the stake from thumping home. Spike watched the customary bafflement spread across the poor idiot's face before he burst into a shower of dust leaving just the girl. Dawn – and there could be no doubt it was her now – brushed down her jacket and pocketed her stake. Spike took the opportunity to step out from the shadows.

"Well nibblet," he said casually, meandering toward her. "Learned a few new tricks I see."

She jumped upon hearing him, swearing rather colourfully and Spike sniggered.

"God! Wear a bell!" she scolded.

In a way it was comforting to see her off balance – like the Dawn of old. Because it took only a look at the way the girl held herself to know her fighting skills weren't the only change to be had. This Dawn had a hardness to her, a sadness that spoke of more than just a few months fending for herself. Her innocence wasn't completely gone but it had taken a beating.

Spike inhaled the last of his cigarette before flicking it to the ground and toeing it into the earth with his boot before looking up and catching her eye.

"So," he said. "Fancy a beer?"

* * *

Tara awoke to darkness and had to pause a moment to wonder what had disturbed her. The sound of rustling pages at the foot of the bed gave her the answer. Sitting up, she squinted at the meagre light filtering through the bedroom window from the street outside.

"Willow?" she said groggily and the pages stopped suddenly.

"Yeah?" Willow whispered haltingly a moment later.

"What're you doing?" Tara asked.

"Nothing," Willow said in the dark. "Just some research. Go back to sleep, I'll come back to bed shortly."

Tara nodded, almost back to sleep despite herself.

"Don't be long," she said sleepily before falling back onto the pillows.

At the bottom of the bed, eyes spelled to see in the dark, Willow watched as her girlfriend's breathing evened out once more.

"I won't," she said quietly, turning back to the text before her. "I won't. Almost there."

The ring seemed to pulse in her hand.


	30. Old friends

Dawn had seen battle. Hell, Dawn had seen war. Violence and bloodshed; desperation and carnage. It had dented her; hardened her - turned her into a warrior fit to meet the slayer and yet there was one thing that never failed to turn her blood cold.

Highschool.

Dawn shielded her eyes from the bright sunshine, looking up to the newly-erected buildings already swarming with all too enthusiastic adolescence. It had been bad enough before her time away – the politics and uncertainty of the place had always put her on edge. Attempting to fit in had been a battle unto itself. Now though...now she had to deal with the knowledge that she had lived through something far bigger than school-yard gossip. Even worse than the struggle to fit in, she now had to contend with the very real certainty that she no longer cared if she did or not.

School just seemed ridiculously contrite when she had two lifetimes swimming around inside her head – one of them a learned royal warrior.

She had protested at first when Buffy had brought the subject of school up but her continued fear of full disclosure had prevented her from making a very valid argument. It had been three weeks since her return and yet she still couldn't bring herself to tell her sister how much she'd really belonged in the world Willow had 'rescued' her from. Giles had finally backed off after her initial slip-up when none of his prodding at her yielded anything. Strangely enough the person who knew the most about her time away was Spike.

That first night sharing a beer in his crypt had turned into something of a ritual. When Dawn needed to get away from the forced normality of the Summers house she usually headed to the cemetery. Sometimes they would patrol together – other times were spent drinking and playing cards in his crypt. Dawn knew Buffy would have a conniption if she knew what her little sister was up to but she found herself more than willing to risk it just for the company.

Spike was the only one who treated her normally. Or rather, he treated her differently. Giles, Buffy, Xander – hell, even Anya were all clinging so desperately to the girl Dawn used to be, treating her like the child they always had in the hopes she might revert back. Spike saw the changes and he didn't fight them. He spoke to her like an adult and treated her like an equal. It was nice and particularly on their nights of drinking Dawn found it all too easy to talk freely.

Spike knew most of what had happened in Middle earth. She'd spoken of the battles and of the Ring. She hadn't been able to bring herself to talk about Legolas much, though from the knowing looks Spike sent her way when she clammed up he'd probably guessed why. She hadn't said anything about the Daughter – or her old life. She didn't know if she ever would. It was a touchy subject at best and that wasn't taking into account the world-ending power still trapped within her. From the way Giles had been talking the scoobies were of the mind that the Key was gone – that her one use was done and over. Dawn had thought long and hard on it and had decided to let them keep that assumption. The Key was dangerous after all – the less people that knew what she was really capable of the better.

Dawn sighed, shunting her backpack more securely over her shoulder as she headed for the doors. It so wasn't fair. She bet no other Universe-shattering super power had to go to highschool.

She made it to her locker without incident and thankfully without running into any of her former friends. She couldn't imagine what she would say to Janet when she saw her. 'Hi, how was your summer? Me? I battled an awesome evil in an attempt to right a wrong I did thousands of years ago in my former incarnation. You know, the usual.' Dawn rolled her eyes at herself.

It took a couple of goes to remember her locker combination but the horrid contraption finally popped open. Dawn was just shoving the first of her text books inside when it happened. A sharp stab of awareness hit her behind the eyes and she gasped, the remainder of her school books tumbling from suddenly nerveless fingers to crash in a heap to the floor.

"_Find it – find the way!"_

Dawn's mind was reeling and so when the hand grasped her shoulder she reacted without thinking, swinging the owner around and bodily slamming him into the lockers before her.

"Ow! What the hell?!" the boy cried and it took Dawn a moment of frozen confusion to place his face.

"Owen," she said distractedly. Owen Matthews to be precise. Before the summer she'd had a huge crush on him. Seven months ago she would have been mortified to have him looking at her the way he was right now – a mixture of outrage and embarrassment.

"Jesus Summers, what's your problem?" Owen said, rubbing his wrist where she'd grabbed him.

Right now however she had bigger things on her mind. Like getting back to the god damn junk yard.

"Sorry," she said, crouching hurriedly and sweeping her dropped books back into her bag. "Thought you were someone else."

With that she slammed her locker closed and hurried back the way she'd come, leaving Owen and most of the hall of students staring after her.

* * *

"She skipped school today," Buffy sighed twirling her stake in her hand.

"That doesn't sound like Dawnie," Xander frowned beside her.

The night was dark and cloudless – only a sliver of a moon casting illumination on the gravestones around them. It was the latest of the handful of times Buffy had been back out patrolling since Dawn's return and Xander had insisted on accompanying her yet again. Despite it being quite obvious that he was baby-sitting her she found she appreciated the company – though if the gang kept up the kid-glove thing too much longer with her she was going to hurt someone. In many ways she knew she deserved this. She'd dropped the ball, going to pieces like she had following Dawn's...departure. And she knew everyone was still just worried about her. But there was only so much concern one slayer could take.

Buffy sighed, kicking at a loose stone between two graves.

"That's just it – none of it sounds like Dawnie," she said hopelessly. "She's changed so much. I'm not even sure I know who she is anymore."

"Don't be silly Buff," Xander said. "She's your sister. She's just been through a lot – stuff like that doesn't just go away."

Buffy nodded. She'd heard it all before of course. Giles had filled her in on what he knew of the world Dawn had been trapped in. A medieval nightmare from the sounds of it. Her little sister had crash landed right in the middle of a war – and it had taken it's toll.

"I just..." she began quietly. "I just want her back."

Xander was true to Xander-form then as he stopped and pulled her into a hug. Buffy burrowed in to his chest despite herself. Sure she was the stalwart slayer but it was nice to lean on someone every once in a while.

"Just give her time," Xander reassured and Buffy nodded – just like she always did these days when someone said those words to her. Give her time. That was all well and good but how much?

Her moment of helplessness was interrupted then by a deep-throated growl and Buffy was almost happy for the distraction as she pulled out of Xander's embrace and palmed her stake.

"Yay, bad guys," Xander said, his customary feigned enthusiasm at the fore and Buffy threw him a grin the moment before the owner of the growl stepped out from behind the closest mausoleum. Buffy's eyes widened. The growl she'd heard could have come from a vampire and yet the creature taking stock before them very clearly wasn't one. Blackish, blueish skin stretched over bulging muscles as the creature shifted before them – seeming to be weighing them up as opponents.

"Do you know what that is?" Xander asked beside her and Buffy shook her head.

"No idea," she said, dropping into a crouch as the thing growled again – drawing a sharply angled sword from a scabbard at it's back.

"Aim for the neck," she advised just before the creature charged.

In the end Xander didn't have much of a chance to aim for anything. The fight between Buffy and the monster was short but brutal. The creature was seemingly made of bricks and determination but Buffy was faster. She'd wrested the blade from the creature quite early and had managed to lop an arm and a leg off before finally delivering a clean blow to the neck. The thing had continued to be thoroughly terrifying till the end, not backing down even minus limbs until it's head had come off.

"Well," Buffy said a bit breathlessly. "That was uber-creepy.

Xander nodded.

"Yup," he agreed, watching as Buffy swung the creature's weapon through the air. "New toy?"

"Dunno," Buffy shrugged. "It's a bit clunky for my tastes."

Xander grinned.

"Giles'll love it," he said. "It's not every day he gets a new monster to research."

Buffy smiled, running a quick gaze over what was left of her opponent.

"Remind me to mention the weird white painted hand thing," she said hefting the sword over her shoulder and heading towards the cemetery exit, Xander at her heels.

From behind the mausoleum Willow cringed as they went, the remains of a spell before her.

* * *

Dawn hadn't slept well. The flash of _something_ yesterday had set her on edge. The familiarity was undeniable – Dawn had felt it before in her dreams. The Ring was here. Hiding well from her it seemed but still here. She'd searched high and low at the construction site – searched until she was sure of what she suspected already anyway. The Ring had ensnared a new master – someone it was already bending to it's will. Not that Dawn had any clue as to what that could be. The ring craved power – that was certain. So where would it go in this dimension? Demons, slayers, witches – anything was possible and because of that everyone was suspect.

Dawn didn't think it was any of her group – she'd been around them all too much and no amount of shielding on the ring's part was likely to hold up to proximity for long. That left a random then – someone who'd stumbled across the ring at the construction site in the last three weeks. Unfortunately that left a lot of people to track.

Dawn had been up all night doing research – builder's timetables and roster checks. It had all seemed an endless dead end. This morning was looking no better. Or it hadn't been before she entered the kitchen only to stop dead at the sight of the Orc blade on the bench.

"Morning," her sister said cheerfully before following Dawn's stricken gaze to the sword on the bench. "Ooo, sorry about that. Not the best breakfast companion."

Dawn swallowed as Buffy picked up the blade and dropped it in the umbrella stand next to the door.

"Where did you get it?" she asked, trying for nonchalant and just succeeding enough to fool her terminally distracted sister.

"Big growly monster last night," Buffy said, mouth half full of jam toast. "I'm taking it to Giles today – see if he can identify the bad."

Dawn nodded, still unable to tear her gaze away from the sword. Orcs in Sunnydale. That could only mean more portal magic which was too much of a coincidence with the Ring on the loose...

Dawn's eyes widened. Crap! Why had she not worked it out.

"It's trying to get home," she said, smacking herself in the forehead.

"Sorry?" Buffy frowned at her and Dawn shook her head.

"Nothing," she said hurriedly, pushing out her chair. "Sorry, thinking out loud. I have to go to school."

Buffy frowned at her.

"It's only 7:30."

"Early tute," Dawn hazarded quickly, grabbing her bag as she headed for the door. "I'll see you this afternoon!"

* * *

Spike was not a morning person. Mostly because morning was his bed time.

"Alright, alright!", he shouted, pulling a T-shirt over his head as he headed for his abused door. Whoever was making a punching bag out of it was either fearless or very very stupid to be bashing at a vampire's door at eight in the morning.

"This'd better be good," he growled, yanking the door open to emit a furiously pacing Dawn. Spike rolled his eyes.

"Come in, make yourself at home," he said sarcastically.

"The Ring's here," Dawn cut him off and Spike frowned – finally taking in the bit's dishevelled appearance, like she'd run all the way to the cemetery.

"The big fat evil ring you've been telling me about?" he asked, hardly needing the girl's nod of confirmation. What else could have put little sis so on edge after all.

"It's here and it's trying to use someone to get it back to Middle Earth," Dawn rushed. "There have been portals. Buffy fought an Orc last night."

"Buffy fought a what?"

"An Orc!" Dawn repeated hurriedly. "A very not-supposed-to-be-in-this-dimension Orc."

"Okay Nibblet, calm down," Spike directed. "Start from the beginning."

Taking a deep breath, Dawn did. When she was finished Spike looked thoughtful.

"Dimensional magic's are tricky – you sure it's not the witches?" he asked.

Dawn shook her head.

"I don't think so, I haven't felt it on them."

Spike pinned her with a look at that.

"Yeah, you're going to have to explain that little detail when all this is sorted by the way," he said and Dawn swallowed heavily, dropping her gaze.

Spike sighed and thankfully let the subject drop – though Dawn had no doubt it wouldn't be the last she'd hear of it.

"What we need is a way to track the magic," Spike said, suddenly all business. "I have a mage contact just outside town should have something useful."

Dawn's eyes lit up.

"Can you bring it by tonight?" she asked and Spike nodded.

"I'll come knocking at your window around nine – make sure big-sis doesn't catch me, I rather like my nads attached thanks."

Dawn had to laugh at that even as she hugged him in thanks.

"Spike you're the best," she grinned. "I'll see you tonight."

As she left, closing the door behind her Spike had to wonder what it was about the girl that made him want to be so pathetically helpful. In the past he'd chalked it up to her being the slayer's little sis and him wanting to keep his unlife which meant looking out for the twerp. Now though... Now she seemed to inspire a loyalty all her own. It was more than a bit disconcerting.

* * *

Willow ripped through the pages before her. She was close, so close. The portals were strong and her aim was true – all she needed now was to control the flow of matter. Things were coming through but nothing could go. She needed to reverse the stream somehow but everything she'd read so far was giving her conflicting instructions. It was in the blood she was sure – her palms still stung from her experimenting. She was so close – she had to be missing something...

Willow growled, slamming the book shut and throwing it on the ever growing discarded pile. The magic-shop's library was proving as useless as her own. Even worse, she'd had to leave the ring hidden at home for fear she'd run into Dawn at the store. It was almost a physical ache being away from it. Willow found herself stretching the cuts on her palm just to relieve the dull pain with a satisfying sting.

Almost there...

Willow reached for another book.


End file.
