Disclaimer: Buffy and all related characters are property of Joss Whedon and some other people. All Lord of the Rings characters belong to J.R.R. Tolkein.

(Thank you to my lovely beta, MarzBar, for helping me out.)


.::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::.


Chapter 2: Forget Me Not in Time of Need

They stood facing each other, neither party making a sound. Aragorn had not seen his old friends for five years and seeing them there brought forth memories that he had not recalled for some time. If it weren’t for the reason of their return, he would have rejoiced. Instead, he strode toward his guests, his arms open and welcoming. Gandalf, who had not expected this show of affection, stood baffled for a moment before chuckling and hugging him back. When they parted, smiles graced both of their faces. Aragorn stood there and beamed for a moment before regarding the small man to his right.

“Welcome, Frodo.”

Glad he had not been forgotten, Frodo gratefully accepted Aragorn’s hug. He was very fond of Aragorn; he always had been. Seeing him now brought back many wonderful memories and, unfortunately, twice as many horrifying ones. In fact much of the time they had spent together was for ill reasons, and it couldn’t be said that many of their experiences were enjoyable. However, they had been given a chance to start anew, and Frodo gladly took it. Unfortunately, the current circumstances were not exactly the perfect environment for bonding.

Aragorn’s face turned grim once more. “I regret to have called you here with such ill tidings, but such is the nature of war, and indeed, I am afraid that is what it has come down to.” He motioned for them to sit at the small table to the right of the throne. “I suspect I should just get straight to the point. There are… it is difficult to say what they are, but a strange force has been sighted near our borders. Reports have shown that these creatures closely resemble Uruk-hai, but that is not possible. These beasts cannot and do not serve the late Sauron, but it seems they share similar purposes. Some have said that they saw them near Osgiliath, so they may indeed be traveling to Minas Tirith.” He paused for a reflective moment. “We have sent small armies, but each one has been destroyed with ease. I fear for our country, for our people.”

Gandalf’s heart went out to him at that moment. Aragorn had been through so much, and he still continued to bear the burden of leadership. Such stress was never meant to be felt by one person alone.

“We don’t have many allies left,” Aragorn continued, “and Rohan has troubles of their own. These beasts have been seen all over Middle Earth, even as far as Lothlorien. Their numbers are increasing, their arm extending, and all we can do is watch.” Aragorn was visibly angered and upset by his inability to stop the impending danger. “We are powerless.”

The rest of Gandalf’s party chose that moment to enter the hall. Aragorn raised his head, eyes widening at who stood before him. Galadriel and Elrond he recognized, but the young brunette he did not. As if understanding the reason for his confusion, she introduced herself.

“I-I’m Tara.”

She was greeted with a smile and a few warm words from Aragorn that instantly made her feel a little more welcomed. She was, after all, in the house of a great king, something that did not occur very often. Yet new things always seemed to be happening to her of late. Her death in one life had brought her here to another, though she still grieved for the loss of her old home, her surrogate family. Unexpected was her chance to live once again, a warrior for the common good. Although she regretted being denied the chance to be in heaven, she decided that the wait would make the reward so much sweeter. At least now she would be able to help others like she always had, even if it wasn’t with the ones she loved.

Her thoughts traveled to the past. Death hadn’t been as gruesome as was expected, quite the opposite really. Yes, there was the pain of the wound, but it left as quickly and suddenly as it had come. In one moment an ageless wisdom was bestowed upon her, opening her eyes to things long forgotten. All time lost meaning, thoughts lost purpose, and troubles drifted away with the silent wind. She opened her eyes but a minute later, although she could have sworn her sleep lasted an eternity. Vision had returned slowly to her, having left with her other senses some time before. Smiling faces had welcomed her, and all else after that sped by in a blur. Her adjusting, learning, and training were her top priorities, never really having time for leisure. She hadn’t minded much, her previous lifetime having given her the experience to deal with solitude. She only wished she could have had her true friend, her lover, her Willow. Things always seemed to be so much brighter with her around, so much easier to deal with. When Tara had been going through her first stages of coping with her new life, all she could think about was Willow and how things had finally been going right. But fate had other plans, and right now this was where she should be. She only hoped that she’d have the chance to see Willow again.

Aragorn sighed, something he had been doing quite a bit lately. “I know I sound most repetitive when I say this, but our forces are too weak to even defend ourselves against our new enemies, let alone lead an attack. None can spare any of their men for us, so what are we to do for our numbers?”

Gandalf closed his eyes for a moment of thought. There was a last resort tucked away in the back of his mind, one that had been bothering him for quite some time now. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and it was time to bring in their only hope.


.::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::.


Giles paced the wide expanse of his office, mulling over details with meticulous care. He had just received a distress call from one of his old friends, one that both upset and frightened him. He realized the depth of the situation and the importance of time, but there was doubt present as well. Were they truly ready for something of this… this magnitude? Had he prepared them enough to send them out of the safety of their homes and into an unfamiliar world? He chuckled when the thought of safety came to mind. Merely being a slayer condemned a girl to a life of inescapable danger, whether she accepted the call or refused it. But deep down he knew he had no choice. His refusal of coming to aid could and would probably lead to the destruction of Middle Earth, a responsibility he was most unwilling to bear. As much as it grieved him to do so, there was no other way. He would have to send his girls to Middle Earth.

His legs began to tire from his pacing, forcing him to sit down at his desk. He wasn’t as young as he once was when he had started it all eight years ago. While he was not as old as would appear, the years of stress and misery took its toll on him, the light in his eyes dimmer than before. And now he finally knew what Buffy had been feeling for so very long: the burden of leadership. So much was at stake now, no pun intended, and he was the one calling most of the shots. If he were to make a mistake or let someone down, it would hurt him more severely than it had in the past. He just hoped his decision was not faulty, and that he would not take the brunt for it in the future.


.::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::.


Buffy fidgeted in her chair as she sat before Giles’ large oak desk. He hadn’t said why he wanted her there, and she was starting to feel a little wiggy. ‘It’s probably nothing,’ she told herself. ‘Another slayer must have turned up or something.’ Slayers were popping up so frequently now that it was no surprise to her when she found one on her front doorstep. Buffy continued to sit before Giles’ scrutinizing gaze, avoiding his eyes altogether. She scrunched up her nose at him. “Uh, Giles?”

Apparently, he had been lost in thought rather than staring her down, which made her feel marginally better. “Right,” he said, after clearing his throat. “I suspect you’re wondering why you’re here.” She didn’t say anything, just looked at him pointedly. “It appears we have another apocalypse on our hands,” he managed to say, although not without great difficulty.

Buffy just blinked at him, holding back her bitter laugh. Of course the calm had lasted for a suspiciously long time, it was no wonder the world was going to end. Such was the story of her life. “And you want me to stop it,” she stated rather than asked.

“Precisely.”

“Great,” she said, leaning back in the chair. “Nothing like the sweet smell of future hell suckage.”

He looked flustered for a moment, stuttering on his next words. “W-well, that won’t exactly be happening. Not, not here at least.”

Again she gave him a look.

“Our dimension is safe for the time being,” he continued quickly. “It’s another that I’m worried about.” He rose from his seat and resumed his pacing. “I was contacted earlier by a friend of mine. His name is Gandalf the White, a resident of the Grey Havens.” He put his hand up as he saw Buffy open her mouth. “You may ask your questions when I am finished,” he declared, ignoring her pout. “He informed me of an upcoming war in a place called Middle Earth, an area with the equivalent advancement of our medieval times. There have been sightings of a newly risen evil, which my resources identify as Havnic Demons. It seems the occupants of Middle Earth are having immense trouble handling them, so much so that they fear their own destruction. There is a shortage of men, which is where you come in.”

“You’re turning me into a man?” Buffy asked, not even bothering to sound sarcastic.

Giles gave her a pointed look, but ignored her remark nonetheless. “I have already chosen a small army to accompany you there. All preparations will be discussed tomorrow after I get some more things settled.” He returned to his spot at the desk, her cue to leave.

Buffy nodded and rose from her seat, anxious to go back home and brood some more.


.::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::.


Aragorn was still uneasy about Gandalf’s suggested plan. He had never met any of these chosen warriors, and now they were to come to his aid? They could be barbarians for all he knew, though Gandalf seemed quite sure they were not. Aragorn would just have to trust him like he had always done, not question his wise words and decisions.

“So tell me again who they are?” Aragorn inquired none the less. It wasn’t as if the question voiced his doubt; he was just curious to find out more about these supposed ultimate warriors.

Gandalf sighed at his persistence, before remembering Aragorn had every right to his doubts. “They’re a legion of skilled fighters whose physical capabilities far surpass our own. Demons walk freely where they are from, so one can only guess their level of expertise in such matters.” Gandalf would say no more, feeling no need to mention that the majority of the warriors were female. Rupert had confirmed his belief of the existence of numerous slayers, briefing him on training protocol and such. A small army of ten would be sent first, followed by another of five thousand at a later date. To Aragorn, this would seem a pitiful size for an army, but Gandalf knew better. One slayer would have the equivalent strength of one hundred men so, in reality, they would have five hundred-thousand strong men, a number that was most appealing.

“And where exactly are they from?”

Gandalf paused for a moment. “A distant land.” He would say no more.


.::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::.


Dawn could hardly contain her excitement. Much to Buffy’s chagrin, Dawn was being allowed to travel with them to Middle Earth. She had worked hard to become a fully-fledged Scooby, and it was finally paying off. This was the type of adventure she had been waiting for, the chance to save the world along with her big sister, something she had always dreamed of. Now, she had something to bring to the table, special cherished skills. She had trained along with the slayers to some extent, delved into ancient lore and texts, and had quickly become the commander of six different languages. It was safe to say the she was the smartest four year old ever.

Chuckling at that thought, she moved about the office and continued her search. A smile lit her face as she found the materials she was looking for. Taking the cap off her felt-tip pen, she wrote neatly on the good paper Giles had hidden.


Dear Spike,

I miss you sooo much, but of course you already knew that. Things are really hectic around here lately, mostly because of the upcoming apocalypse. You know the one, right? Well, anyway, you’ll never believe what happened. Really, you won’t. Get this: they’re actually letting me go with them. Isn’t that awesome? I’m totally one of the gang now. Oh stop, I can hear you protesting across an entire ocean. I’ll be fine, trust me. I can totally kick some demon butt now. I even learned how to use a bow and arrow, which is so cool by the way. I am sooo ready for this.

How are things going over there? Is Angel giving you a hard time again, because if he is I’ll come over and beat him up for you. I have no idea what Buffy saw in him. Oh, sorry, was I not supposed to say that name? Or maybe I should, because she really misses you, you know. Oooh! You should come visit us some time. That would make everyone (okay, only me and Buffy) really, really happy. I think everyone around here could use a little happy, what with all the stress. I’m not about to tell her, but Buffy looks like a total mess. Her eyes are all blotchy, she hardly puts any make up on, and now she’s started to give up on eating entirely. It’s making me really scared. I’ve never seen her so miserable in my life, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Whenever I think that she might not make it through whatever she’s going through, I just…. I really need her now, always have, and now it’s like she’s only half there. Like she’s on auto-Buffy. I don’t want auto-Buffy, I want Buffy-Buffy. Spike, she really needs you right now. She told me all about what happened between you two that day and I’m trying to be mad at you, but I kind of understand why you did it. You wanted her to go on living and leave you behind, but now it’s like she’s not even living at all. Please Spike, I’m begging you. We need you back.

Love always,
Dawn

Hurriedly placing the seal of the Watchers’ Council on the envelope, Dawn hid the letter in the pile of other things to be mailed. Seemingly pleased with herself, she exited Giles’ office and quietly shut the door. Her timing was found to be impeccable as Giles himself passed by her on his way there, nodding distractedly in her direction which she supposed was some form of hello. Not that she had expected much from him. He was all Grumpy-Giles in his old age and it was work, work, work all the time. He kept to himself for the most part, and that was alright with Dawn. Sure he was almost like a father to her, but she didn’t really need a father right now. She needed her Buffy and her big brother Spike, two people she didn’t have at the moment. But she just knew, had a feeling in her gut, that she was about to get both of them back.


.::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::..::.


Spike stared at the envelope from his safe perch on the opposite side of the room. He knew it was from Dawn; it had her scent all over it. He hadn’t realized she knew about him being undead once more, and some of his most redundant worries came out to play. Had she told Buffy? If she had, was Buffy mad at him? Should he go over there and see her?

That thought both scared him and excited him. He wanted to see her, hold her in his arms more than anything in the world, but he was also terrified of becoming part of her life again. There were so many possible reactions to his return: rejection, anger, and that crazy notion of acceptance. She was so unpredictable, and while that was one of the things he loved about her, it could also be a royal pain. But he knew in his heart he couldn’t live without her so long as they both existed. He eagerly reached for the envelope, tearing it open and reading it so fast the first time he had to do it again. He almost teared up as he reached the part about Buffy. Yes, it was decided. He had to go see a man about a lady.


He found Angel exactly where he thought he was: in his office pacing. Spike just stood there for about a minute, daring Angel to actually look up and notice him. He got his wish when Angel turned to go in the opposite direction and happened to look at something other than the floor. He definitely didn’t look too thrilled to see him.

“Hey, Peaches,” Spike drawled, “Something wrong?”

Angel’s irritated expression got turned up a notch. “Something’s going on with the Council, but they won’t let me in on anything. It’s got to be pretty serious considering the way everyone’s buzzing around. Not even Buffy has called me with info.”

Aha. That was it. Angel was upset because Buffy could possibly be in danger and she wasn’t running into his arms. It irked Angel that she could stand on her own two feet without him there to hold her hand like a child, that she could be an ocean away from him and not feel anxious. This just made the smirk on Spike’s face to grow with the knowledge that Buffy could possibly need his help and not the poofter’s.

“Imagine that,” Spike remarked pointedly.

Angel glared at him. “What do you want anyway?”

“I need you to open a portal for me.”

Angel just stared at him with a raised eyebrow. “Why?” he asked slowly.

Spike sighed. “It’s about Buffy.”

It was Angel’s turn to feel smug. “How did I know. What is it this time, Spike?”

Spike reluctantly explained his situation, not wanting to give Angel a reason to sprint off like a bloody knight in shining armor. When he was finished, Angel’s smug look was once again replaced with one of annoyance. Again, Buffy displayed her obvious need for the younger vampire and not an ounce for himself. It upset him more than he was letting on. Buffy was the girl he loved more than anything in the world, the girl he had given up so much to be with. To see his grandchilde take her away from him right under his nose made him more than a little outraged. But there was always that annoying little voice that reminded him about how much he wanted Buffy to be happy, about how he was determined to let her make her own decisions for a change. He was seriously starting to regret that oath, but now was not the time to deprive Buffy of much needed happiness for his own selfish reasons.

“I’ll do it,” Angel said, his voice betraying nothing of what he was feeling. In a last show of defiance, Angel turned and stormed out of his office, leaving an ecstatic Spike in his wake.