Full Circle

When the movie had finished playing, Buffy still sat there in a melancholic state. Watching the Griswolds did not lighten her heart over the dreadful deed she had committed hours before, the stench from said deed already pervading the air.

She clicked the ‘off’ button on the remote, turning off the TV. Rising to her feet, she looked around the apartment one last time, her eyes scanning the many portraits of ships that adorned the walls. Out of nowhere, a heavy blue cloak materialized onto her shoulders. After fastening the clasp on the neck, she pulled the material tightly around her body, before departing Los Angeles for good.

Only a moment later, she reappeared beside the gigantic crater formerly known as Sunnydale. The area was now under heavy military guard. A tall chain-link fence with rolls of concertina wire on top now ran along the entire perimeter, barring curiosity seekers and such from entry.

Still consumed with grief, the Vala Queen stood at the edge of the chasm, looking into the blackness of the pit, remembering that destructive battle that seemed to have taken place long ago. She remained heedless that the light of her essence cast her body in a soft glow, something that immediately drew the attention of a few nearby men on guard duty.

The Slayer didn’t move, even when one of the military men aimed his million-candlepower spotlight at her. She remained perfectly still, her cloak and long golden hair billowing in the morning breeze, giving her a ghostly appearance.

“How the hell did she get in here?” asked one of the soldiers in amazement.

“I don’t know,” answered his superior. “But it’s high time we find out.” Three men started to approach the Valië, the ranking officer shouting, “Miss! Miss! You’re trespassing on government property. No civilians are allowed on these premises without proper authorization.”

Yet Buffy remained motionless, her cheerless eyes fixed on the gaping hole.

The men did not feel threatened by the sight of one small woman. Though armed with MP5s, they kept their weapons lowered. They were used to strangers snooping around, as that place had earned a reputation reminiscent to that of Area-51. Some people, conspiracy theorists mostly, suspected that extraterrestrial life had caused the gaping chasm in the earth in retaliation for mankind’s arrogance and dismissiveness of the existence of higher beings. The men assumed she was one of those loony types, or, by the looks of her, some kind of mystic or Stevie Nicks wannabe.

The senior officer stopped beside the Slayer. “Miss!” he said again. Concerned by her non-responsiveness, he gently shook her shoulder. “Are you alright? Are you lost? How did you get in here?”

The Vala Queen turned her green eyes to the men.

They lowered the spotlight, so as not to blind her.

“Are you alright?” the man asked again. “You know, you’re not supposed to be here. This is off limits to all civilians.”

Buffy’s eyes darted to the soldier’s nametag on his camouflaged jacket. It read, “Reynolds.” She then turned her gaze back to the mammoth crater.

“I was here,” she began, speaking softly. “I was here when Sunnydale was destroyed. It was my home, once.”

“I understand, miss, but I’m afraid Sunnydale’s no more. And without proper authorization, you can’t be here,” Reynolds continued kindly yet firmly. He took hold of her arm. “We need to escort you off these premises, miss.”

“From beneath you it devours,” she uttered, her feet firmly planted to the ground.

“Excuse me?” Reynolds asked, baffled by her remark. “What was that you said?”

She turned her eyes to the military man. “From beneath you it devours.”

“Yep, she’s one of those crazies, alright,” snickered one of the other soldiers, nodding his head.

“Lawson!” said his superior threateningly.

The other man quickly averted his gaze, looking at the ground at his feet, shaking his head dismally.

“Sorry about that, miss,” continued Reynolds. “But you must leave. Now!” He tugged on her arm, but she refused to move. “Come on now, miss. We don’t have time for this. Don’t make me fling you over my shoulder and carry you out of here. Let’s be adults about this.”

“Wanna see a trick?”

“Miss, I’m beginning to lose my patience with you. And, believe me, you don’t want that to happen.”

“Patience is a virtue,” she answered, sounding almost like the Buffy-bot.

“I’m telling you - she’s nuts,” grumbled Lawson under his breath.

Buffy held out her palms. “Check this out,” she said. “Nothing in my hands,” she continued, turning them repeatedly until her palms faced up again. “Presto chango!” The Trident of Ulmo then appeared on her opened hands, the metal gleaming in the light of her fey.

“Holy shit! How’d you do that?” asked the third man who had remained silent until that point.

“This is more powerful than those,” she said, comparing her weapon to the MP5s in the men’s hands.

Instinctively, they raised their weapons, training them on the Slayer.

“Put the weapon down!” ordered Reynolds. “We’re not playing games here!”

“Neither am I,” she said, her lips slowly turning into a smile as she grasped the Trident with both hands. “You people don’t know a thing. You wallow in your ignorance.” She pulled her shoulders back, standing tall, proudly proclaiming, “I’m a God, sent here to judge mankind.”

“Put the weapon down or we’ll shoot!” demanded Reynolds once again, his finger on the trigger.

Without her saying a word, the men’s MP5s suddenly grew red-hot, searing their flesh. They all cried out in pain, dropping their weapons, their hands smoldering from the heat of the metal.

Their shrieks immediately alerted the rest of the men and women at the compound. Shouts of commands rang out, as many came rushing toward the scene.

“Say your prayers, boys, and maybe you’ll get another chance in the next life… unless you’re non-believers, then woe unto you.”

Before any could stop her, Buffy rammed the Trident into the earth. A blinding white light flashed, as she disappeared. The Trident set off a tremor that would obliterate, in several hours time, not only California, but also the states of Washington and Oregon, the western half of Nevada, and portions of Canada and Mexico. The turbulent shaking would affect the sea as well, creating massive tidal waves that would drown those land areas completely, washing away all signs of life.

That one act, that one earthquake that started at the outskirts of the town formerly known as Sunnydale would set off a chain reaction throughout all of North America. The coastal areas would experience floods of biblical proportions, wiping out entire cities, and some states in the south and along the eastern coast, in mere minutes. The rumblings beneath the continent would spread in every direction, triggering one natural disaster after another.

The fault line that ran from the Mississippi Delta to the Great Lakes would rip open, devouring city after city in one of the most devastating and monumental events that had ever taken place in an epoch. The Great Lakes’ waters would spill over their banks, flooding the surrounding areas and creating an inland sea between what was formerly known as the Mid-west and Southern Canada.

The super volcano, the Yellowstone Caldera, would go off, sending plumes of lava and toxic gas miles into the air, ravaging the surrounding areas and killing off every living thing within a three hundred mile radius.

The shocks would continue under the sea, creating fissures beneath the oceans that would work their way towards Europe in the east and to Asia in the west.

A channel would form from the Pacific Ocean to the Gulf of Mexico through Northern Mexico from the combined force of the numerous tsunamis and earthquakes.

That was just the beginning of things to come, for the entire world would soon experience such devastation, the likes of which had never before been seen in Eä…



Buffy returned to the isolated isle once again, which would act as her sanctuary until The End. Yet, this time, she heard the hauntingly beautiful music of the Ulumúri. Turning toward the sound, she saw Salmar stretched out on the lounge chair in the dilapidated shack, blowing into the numerous white shells that made up the instrument. A large bonfire burned brightly on the beach a few yards away, the flames dancing slowly to the Maia’s mournful tune. Though the music stirred a sadness within her, the Slayer was delighted to see the servant of Ulmo.

She trudged through the sand toward Salmar.

The Maia continued playing his somber melody until the Vala Queen stopped at the entrance of the shack. She stood there with a smile on her face.

“Hail, Luinil,” he said after the last note had faded.

“Salmar,” she replied, nodding her head in acknowledgement. “How’ve you been?”

“Not too well,” the Maia sighed. “Things have gone awry in Valinor,” he continued with a shake of his head. “Taniquetil is no more. Sauron has raised Ar-Pharazôn and his dark, Númenorean armies from their graves, and, in their wrath, they’ve assailed Manwë’s mount, breaking it asunder.”

“Then it’s true?” she queried, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Manwë is dead.”

“Yes, and many others as well,” he replied dismally. “Varda too has perished alongside her spouse, including many from their Household. And Oromë, Tulkas, and Nessa - they also have fallen in battle.” He shook his head again. “Everything is going to change, and I fear it will not be for the better.”

“Is it over? Is Dagor Dagorath over?”

He fixed his sorrowful blue eyes on the Slayer. “It will not be over until you put an end to it. With each passing hour, more die. It is… it is the most horrific war I have ever seen.”

The Valië took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled. Despite her animosity toward her brethren, she felt terrible that so many of the Aratar had perished. While she was all gung ho for them to experience what she had had to endure over many, many years, she didn’t want to see them dropping like flies. Even they didn’t deserve that.

Buffy’s heart ached with sorrow, not just for those that had died, but also for those that they had left behind. She was beginning to think that Dagor Dagorath was destined to be the event that would end her long held hostility toward those in the West. She had to force herself to fight back her tears.

“And my brothers and sister?” she asked in a mere whisper. “Have they… are they… ”

“They are alive, as far as I know,” he answered. “I have departed Aman for here, to welcome you on behalf of my Lord.”

“But, Ulmo,” she started anxiously. “Is he not coming? I… I was hoping to see him.”

“Do not fret, my dear. He is on his way. His errand took him a bit longer than expected, is all,” the Maia explained. “He asked that I keep you company until his arrival, which should not be much longer.”

Buffy let out a sigh of relief. “I’ve gotta see him,” she murmured, turning toward the ocean.

“Why don’t you come and sit with me?” he said, sliding over on the lounger. “I’ll play some music for you.”

“Okay,” she answered, entering the shanty. “But, Salmar - how ‘bout playing something more cheerful. Perhaps a love song?”

“You’re still into the love songs, eh?” he chuckled.

“I am the Vala of Love,” she replied with a shrug. “What else would you expect?”

She took a seat next to the Maia, listening as he played ancient love songs from Sumer, songs that reminded her of Sargon, and the inevitable deed that she’d have to do before her reunion with Melkor Bauglir. She stared at the dancing flames of the fire, losing herself in distant memories of her past, while Salmar played one enchanting melody after another.

Buffy was so lost in thought that the Maia had to nudge her to get her attention.

“He’s here,” Salmar said, motioning toward the beach with his head.

The Valië immediately leapt to her feet, and made her way toward the Lord of Waters. The Maia resumed playing love songs on the Ulumúri.

“Déjà vu,” she uttered under her breath as she neared the Vala Lord. That moment reminded her of her first encounter with Ulmo, when she thought she was merely Buffy Summers, Slayer-in-charge. Boy, how times have changed since her first encounter with him in the dreamscape!

As before, Ulmo sat cross-legged, staring out to sea. His grey hair billowed in the breeze, his tattered garments partially concealed beneath his shimmering blue-green cloak.

Without looking her way, he said, “Hello, Bella.”

“Hey, Ulmo,” she answered, taking a seat on the sand beside him.

The Lord of Waters reached out, taking Buffy’s hand in his. They fell quiet, neither speaking a word, as they listened to Salmar’s enchanting melody.

After a long while, the Slayer finally spoke, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. “Sometimes,” she started, “sometimes I wish I were in your Halls at the bottom of the sea, again. It’s so peaceful down there, like it’s a world of its own.”

“It is to me as well,” he answered, still staring out at the ocean. “I would very much like to take you back there.”

“Ulmo,” she uttered with a hint of sadness to her tone.

“I know, I know,” he replied, slightly agitated. “Is it wrong for a Vala to dream?”

“I suppose not,” she answered, caressing his wrinkly hand. “The End is coming ever closer. I can feel it in my bones,” the Valië continued, her voice revealing her distress. “I’m scared, Ulmo. I’m really scared.”

The Lord of Waters turned his doleful blue eyes to her, his face a mask of grief. “It doesn’t have to be that way, Bella. Túrin - ”

“Túrin can’t do it alone!” she interjected, cutting off his sentence. Thinking that the tone of her voice sounded too harsh, she softly added, “He needs me.” Buffy released Ulmo’s hand, and pulled her legs to her chest, wrapping her arms protectively around them. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing any more,” she groaned. “I feel like I’m going against everything I believe in, that I’m no better than Melkor.”

“You are merely setting the trap. You cannot draw out the likes of Melkor with honey, death is more enticing to him than all else, except… ” The Lord of Waters caught himself, stopping his sentence there.

“Except me,” she said weakly, facing Ulmo.

“Alas! I’m afraid so. You’re the one thing in all this world that he loves dearly,” he replied. “And I cannot say that I blame him.”

Buffy immediately broke eye contact with the Vala, shifting her eyes back to the sea. She could feel her cheeks flushing under Ulmo’s penetrating gaze.

“I have made you uncomfortable, haven’t I?” he queried, still scrutinizing her with those mesmerizing blue eyes.

The Slayer thought for a moment before answering, “No.” She turned toward the Lord of Waters once again. “You’re a good man, Ulmo, which makes me feel even crappier.” She paused. “I remember, you know. I remember everything. Our past. My fickle heart. My pledge. My lies. I remember it all. And I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for having lied to you, for hurting you.”

“It is I that owes you an apology, Luinil, for I was a part of the conspiracy. I was in on it from the beginning,” he sadly said, turning his gaze back to the sea. “I agreed with the rest of the Aratar about placing the Veil of Concealment upon you.” He looked back at the Slayer; his eyes welling with tears. “I cannot deny that that was done for selfish reasons. I am truly sorry for the pain that I have caused you.”

“It’s alright,” she answered, taking his hand once again, and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I get it now. I understand why you guys did it. I don’t hold any ill will towards any of you.”

“Fear can lead us to the extreme,” the Lord of Waters continued. “There were a few of us that foresaw this time, the return of Melkor and his dark armies, and, more specifically, the role you were to play in it.”

Buffy bit her quivering bottom lip, shifting her eyes back to the ocean. Ulmo’s anguish made her feel guilty as hell, since she was the instigator of it all. How does one apologize for being the instrument of the destruction of the world, the same world that the Vala Lord and the other Ainur labored for ages to create? A simple, “sorry” doesn’t cut it.

“We do not blame you,” Ulmo went on, seeing the miserable look on the Valië’s face. “It was your destiny from the very beginning. Ilúvatar’s will! And who can thwart His commands, eh?” He gently grasped her chin, turning her head so that she faced him. “Do not be sad, Maranwë, for good will come out of this. The sun will shine again. The stars will burn brightly in the heavens above. The fruits of my labor will endure. And the Eldar and Hildor will get to see the world as it should’ve been, free from evil. If the only way for that to come about is for Eä to be destroyed, then I wholeheartedly say - destroy it! And, together, we will make it anew.”

“I guess you could say that’s looking at the bright side of things,” replied Buffy with a forced smile.

“Do what you must do, Bella. In the end, all will rejoice in the changes made.”

“I’m glad you think so,” she answered.

Ulmo’s hand slid from the Vala Queen’s face as she turned toward the sea once again. She rested her chin on her knee, thinking, as she listened to the harmonious notes of the Ulumúri combined with the surf. Both she and the Vala Lord fell quiet again, both lost in their own thoughts.

The Lord of Waters was eager to ask Buffy a question, a question that had consumed his thoughts for some time. He scrutinized her from the corner of his eye. She looked wistfully at his greatest creation - the sea.

Gathering his courage, he faintly asked, “Do you love him?”

The Slayer faced the Vala Lord, locking eyes with him. She knew of whom he was speaking, and could tell by the look in his eyes that he had longed to ask her that question for ages.

“Yes,” she answered weakly. “I do.”

“Even after all he has done?” he queried, sounding somewhat unconvinced.

“We’re bound together, Ulmo,” she replied. “He was there for me, at the beginning. He was my first, my first love. You don’t get over that so easily.” She shifted her gaze back to the dark waters. “He wasn’t always evil, you know. He was good… though that seems like some distant memory. I can’t help but think that I’m responsible for his turn to the dark side. I betrayed his trust. I just wish… I just wish he had taken his wrath out on me, instead of everyone else.”

“Melkor’s blinded by his love for you.”

“Maybe,” she answered with a shrug. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I’ll ever know.” With her hands wrapped around her legs, she began to gently rock back and forth. While she was safe on that isle, protected by the magics of Ulmo, she knew that her departure was fast approaching, and that she would never return to that blissful place again.

“We were amazed, the other Valar and I, that, even with the Veil in place, you and Melkor had found each other,” the Vala Lord revealed, “that your love had brought forth Illyria.”

“I was bewitched, Ulmo,” she replied grimly. “I wouldn’t categorize that as love.”

“But you just said… ” He shook his head in confusion. “You said you love him.”

“And I do,” she answered, facing him once again. “Back then, I didn’t. I didn’t know him. I didn’t know of our past, only the things that he had told me. And let’s face it - Melkor’s notorious for twisting the facts around.”

“Your relationship with him befuddles me!”

“It befuddles me too!” she chortled. “It’s complicated, as so many things are. Hell, I’m complicated!” She stretched her legs out, leaning back on her arms, her hands sinking into the warm sand. She turned her gaze upwards, toward the pitch-black heavens. “I never wanted to leave the Timeless Halls. Even when I told everyone I would, that I would make my decision when we all entered Eä.”

She glanced at the Vala Lord, who keenly watched her with his deep blue eyes.

“I obviously lied,” she confessed. “I lied to you all. I never had any intention on coming down here. I knew what was in store for me, what havoc I’d create. I’m the Vala of Love, Ulmo. There’s more to love than love. There’s passion, jealousy.” She shuddered. “I possess all those unpleasant characteristics that accompany love.”

“Passion is not such a bad thing,” remarked the Vala of Waters.

“It is when you lose yourself to it.” She sat upright again, rubbing the sand from her hands. “My God, man, I know you’ve heard about some of the men I’ve been with?! Passion has a tendency to deafen us to the voice of reason. All you have to do is look at my past for proof of that.”

“You do make a rather good point there,” replied Ulmo with a chuckle. “Love in itself is a mystery, I suppose,” he continued. “You never know when it’s going to seize you, but when it does… ” The words faded from his lips. Poor Ulmo had loved Buffy for so long, and it pained him that she’d never love him as she once had. However brief their affair had been, those feelings that she had awakened in him were still there, and as far as he was concerned, always would be. After all the many ages that had passed by, no other woman in all of Arda had touched him so profoundly as the Vala of Love. If he could have but one wish, it would be to have her all to himself. Yet, the Vala Lord was no fool, a dreamer perhaps, but no fool. And he knew what he yearned for, he’d never have, that it was merely a dream, a dream that would play out in his mind when he found himself all alone.

Several bolts of lightning flashed across the sky, followed by a rumbling crack of thunder that shook the Earth to its core.

“He’s almost here,” Buffy said, her eyes shifting to the sky. “It won’t be long now.”

“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” asked Ulmo. Both his tone and facial expression revealed his uneasiness about the final confrontation between the Slayer and the Dark Lord.

The Vala Queen wanted to say that she had no other choice, but instead replied with, “Yeah, I’m sure.” She then glanced in either direction, searching the shoreline, hoping that Illyria and Thranduil would soon return.

“They’re nearly finished with their task,” Ulmo informed her. “Illyria and Thranduil shan’t be long.”

Buffy was a little surprised by his statement, but then had to remind herself that she was on his turf, this was the Lord of Waters’ sanctuary in the world above the deep blue sea.

“I do have one last gift for you,” he continued.

The Slayer immediately perked up when she heard that.

“Retrieving this was the errand that had delayed our meeting,” he declared, as he reached inside of his cloak.

A myriad of colors of blinding light radiated from the fold of his mystical garment, causing the Vala Queen’s heart to race with excitement. “Oh, Ulmo,” she said in awe, as she beheld the brilliance of the Nauglamír clutched in the Vala Lord’s hand. “You found it! You actually found it!” she added excitedly.

“Indeed,” he replied with a smile. “Such a gem cannot remain hidden from the likes of me, especially when it had fallen into my domain.”

“It was in the sea, then. It fell into the sea,” she said, staring longingly at the necklace that had caused much grief in Middle-earth.

“As luck would have it,” he answered. “And it is my gift to you.” Ulmo went to clasp the necklace around Buffy’s neck, but she backed away in fear.

“NO!” she cried out. “I can’t touch it.”

“Why not?” he asked, frowning.

“Come on, Ulmo. I know that the Silmaril was hallowed by Varda, and me and hallowed things don’t mesh.”

“That’s utter nonsense!” he countered.

“No, it’s not. Hello, just been on a hellacious killing spree,” she answered with a wave of her hand, her body still arched away from the Blessed Jewel of Fëanor.

“You’re doing Ilúvatar’s work, Bella. You are justified in your actions. Now, come on, let me put this on you.”

“Uh-uh!” she protested, frantically shaking her head. “I don’t want that thing burning any parts of my flesh.” She anxiously looked around. “Do you have a box, or, or a satchel I can put it in?”

Ulmo actually rolled his eyes, groaning softly under his breath. “You have no reason to fear this,” he went on. “I’ll prove it to you.” The Vala Lord quickly grabbed Buffy’s arm (despite her struggling in protest), and placed the Silmaril in her hand.

She had squeezed her eyes closed, horrified what the Jewel of Fëanor would do to her delicate bronze skin.

“See!” said Ulmo. “You’re flesh is not searing. It has not turned black.”

Buffy peeked open one eye, looking at the Jewel that the Vala Lord kept pressed in her palm.

“I can’t believe it,” she said, astounded by that revelation.

“I told you. You have only done what had to be done, what Eru wanted you to do.”

With a sigh of relief, the Slayer used her other hand to wipe the beads of sweat from her forehead. She then ran her fingers along the bejeweled chain while the digits of her other hand closed around the Silmaril. The light of the Jewel of Fëanor felt warm, its rays shining through the flesh of her hand.

“The Nauglamír,” she uttered in stunned disbelief, not having seen that necklace since the days of Ossir.

“Or Venus, to some,” added Ulmo with a smile. “You are now the rightful owner, Bella, for it is my gift to you. But nothing would make me happier than to see you adorned with that magnificent Jewel.”

Buffy handed the necklace back to the Vala Lord. Her heart was still rapidly beating in her chest as she lifted her hair so that he could clasp the necklace on her. The myths of old had been accurate. Despite the weight of the numerous gemstones on the chain, and the Silmaril itself, the Nauglamír felt light as a feather, as the Jewel of Fëanor dangled between her breasts.

Tears came to her eyes as she admired the Silmaril. “You’ve come through for me again, Ulmo. I don’t know how I can ever repay you for this.”

“Just seeing you wreathed in the beauty of the Light is thanks enough for me. You are fairer than any that has ever walked in Arda.”

Buffy giggled at his words. “I can feel it, the Power of the Light.”

“Indeed. The Two Trees were Yavanna’s greatest creations,” he remarked.

“I guess,” she answered, having only seen the Trees in visions.

“Pray tell me,” Ulmo then said, “that you will not be giving the Blessed Nauglamír to Melkor.”

“Of course not,” she snapped back, her brow furrowed at the mere suggestion. She picked the Silmaril off her chest, staring at the magnificent Jewel. “I’m going to return it to the House of Fëanor,” she disclosed. “I’ve finally fulfilled my promise to my beloved Káno.” The Valië shifted her gaze to the Lord of Waters. “Who would’ve thought that it would take ages for me to do that?” She smiled. “But it’s done. My quest is over.”

“There is no doubt that Fëanor and his sons will be pleased to look upon the greatest heirloom of their House once again.” He eyed the Silmaril. “It has always amazed me that such a blessed thing could bring so much pain and misery into the world.”

“But that’s over, or soon will be. My heart tells me that Telperion and Laurelin will be revived, and will bloom fairer than before.”

“I believe you’re right, Bella,” Ulmo said, nodding his head in agreement. “I deem Fëanor has learned well from his time in Mandos. He will come out a new man.”

She lifted her gaze to the Vala Lord. “They all will.”

“Indeed,” he replied. The Lord of Waters’ eyes then scanned the vast sea before them. Sighing heavily, he added, “I reckon our tête-à-tête has come to an end.”

Buffy giggled at Ulmo’s use of French. She had never heard him speak any other language than the tongues of old.

He rose to his feet before helping the Slayer to hers.

“I have so enjoyed our time together, Luinil,” he said with a smile, “though I find it rather bittersweet… ”

“Now, now, let’s have none of that bittersweet talk,” she said, taking the Vala Lord’s hands in her own. “Dwell on the sweet part, Ulmo.”

Though sadness filled his heart, he forced himself to smile. “I will do that.”

“You’ve been a great friend to me, and incredibly loyal. I’m grateful for that.”

A tear escaped the Vala Lord’s eye. “I dread this part.”

“Stop! I’ll have none of that,” she chastised, wiping the tear from his old, wrinkly face. “This isn’t the time to be sad. It’s a new beginning, a time to rejoice… or will be, soon enough.”

Buffy locked eyes with Ulmo, and spoke words of comfort telepathically to the Vala. (The conversation between the two was meant to be private, and was never recorded in any form).

Before Ulmo departed with Salmar, the Vala Queen embraced each one of them, thanking them again for their loyalty and friendship. She and the Lord of Waters exchanged kisses (on the forehead), before he and the Maia ambled into the water. The Maia resumed playing the Ulumúri. The Slayer could still hear the musical notes of the mystical shelled instrument, even after Salmar and his Lord had disappeared beneath the dark blue sea.

Despite the events taking place in the world, Buffy felt elated to possess the Nauglamír once again. She danced along the shore, the light of her fey and the Silmaril causing the gemstones of the necklace to illuminate her hröa in a rainbow of colors. It wasn’t until the arrival of Thranduil and Illyria shortly thereafter that she finally stopped dancing.

“Oh, my God!” exclaimed Thranduil upon his return, seeing the Valië dancing amidst the myriad of colors of the Necklace of the Dwarves. He ran over to her, staring wide-eyed at the sparkling jewels around her neck. “It’s the Nauglamír! I cannot believe it! How’d you get it?” he asked excitedly.

“Ulmo. Ulmo brought it to me,” she answered breathlessly.

The smile slowly faded from the elf’s face. “Then that is it,” he replied. “Your quest has been completed.”

“Yeah. Finally!” she said, glancing at Illyria as she approached. “It took a helluva long time, but it’s done.”

“Is that the Silmaril?” asked the Old One, eyeing the Jewel dangling from her mother’s neck.

“It is,” answered a beaming Buffy.

“That is father’s greatest work. How did you come by it?” she queried with a puzzled expression on her face.

“Morgoth’s greatest work?!” interjected Thranduil incredulously, a look of disgust on his handsome face. “Morgoth didn’t make the Silmarils. Fëanor did!”

“The Elf?” she said, her tone full of doubt.

“Yes, the Elf,” answered the Slayer. “And my father-in-law.” She paused, furrowing her brow. “Well, one of my fathers-in-law.”

“And what of the other two Jewels? Where are they? Father had three Silmarils in his iron crown,” she probed further.

“I have those as well,” replied Buffy happily. “They’re tucked away in a secret vault.” Noticing how quiet Thranduil had become, the Slayer then said to her daughter. “Give us a minute, Illyria. I’ve gotta talk to Thranduil.” She then took the Green-elf by the hand and stepped out of earshot of her firstborn. “Did you guys finish collecting the Elect?” she asked.

“Yes. All have been taken to Mandos except those in Lindon Hall, just as you had requested,” he responded dismally.

“Cheer up, little man,” she said, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “Things will get better. I promise.”

“But, but,” he stammered, facing the Vala Queen, “it’s all going to change. And I hate change!”

“I know,” Buffy answered, taking his other hand. “Change can suck, but this time will be different. It’ll be Heaven on Earth. And who wouldn’t want that?”

The Green-elf sighed, hanging his head low.

“Hey!” she said. “Look at me!”

Thranduil lifted his head, his face a mask of sorrow.

“You’re a great man, and even a greater King. That won’t change. You still have a huge role to play in things to come. And you will rise to the challenges before you, as you’ve done so many times in the past. I love you. And I believe in you. Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.” She smiled. “I’ll kick their ass if they do!”

The Green-elf chuckled at her comments. “So this is it, then?”

“It’s almost time for the showdown at the O. K. Corral,” she chortled. “But, seriously, I want you to be safe, with the others. Our mission in Middle-earth is over, little man. Go to your family. Enjoy them… ”

“But I want to keep on helping you… ” he started to protest before the Slayer cut him off.

“…And you have, a million times over!” she interjected appreciatively. “I couldn’t have made it this far without you. But, this last task is for me, for Túrin and me. Your part in this tale is over. For now.” She placed her hands on Thranduil’s cheeks, lowering his face so she could plant a kiss on his forehead. “You’ll see me again soon enough. Promise.”

Thranduil held out his pinky.

Laughing, Buffy wrapped her digit around his. “I pinky swear.”

“Good,” the Green-elf replied with a smile.

With a wave of her hand, a portal materialized.

“See you on the flip side,” said Thranduil before stepping into the whirling mass of air, vanishing from the isle.

The Vala Queen then turned to her daughter. “Walk with me,” she said joyfully, waving Illyria over.

The Old One went to her mother’s side.

Buffy linked her arm with Illyria’s before setting off down the beach. “There are some things that you need to know about your father and me, the truth of what really happened back in the days of Angband.”

Her daughter made no comment, but was willing to listen to what her mother had to say.

“Ages ago, and I mean that in a literal sense, not figuratively,” she began lightheartedly, “I was this young woman, oblivious to my true nature, thinking I was merely a Slayer, thrust into this unknown world called Middle-earth.”

“You are going to tell me your life story, are you not?” moaned the Old One.

“Honey, it’d take me an eternity to tell you about my whole life,” said the Valië gently. “I just want to give you a bit of back story of how my life was before I met your father.”

“That makes no sense. You’ve known my father since before the beginning of Time.”

“True. But what you don’t understand is the role the other Valar have played,” she continued. “Quite frankly, they’re a meddlesome bunch. Granted, Eru Ilúvatar assigned them as Guardians of this world, but, I swear to God, they took great pleasure in screwing with my life, seemingly fucking with me every chance they got!”

Buffy could feel her anger mounting. She paused, taking several deep breaths to calm herself.

“Any way,” she went on, as the foamy waves rolled over their feet. “They blinded me to my past, placing this Veil of Concealment on me so that I had no knowledge of who I really was or of my past.”

“Why would they do that?” she queried, too eager to wait for Buffy’s explanation.

“Selfish reasons, mostly,” she answered. “Look how much things have changed since I got my memories back. The greatest war amongst men is taking place. Natural disasters left and right - not pretty things to the Valar, especially since they had toiled for a long, long time to perfect this world, to fulfill the visions of Ilúvatar. Your father marred their creations from the very beginning, out of jealously, I suppose.”

She glanced at her daughter, as they continued their stroll, deciding that she might need to take her story back further, to the very beginning, to before the world was made.

“Your father was the eldest born of our kind, who felt that he should have been Lord of all Arda. However, in the wisdom of the Allfather, that honor went to Manwë because of his gentle nature, his ability to see the good in people, whereas your father was the jealous type, envied what the others had created, the beauty of their works. He didn’t possess the right kind of skills. I think there was always a darkness within him. As a matter-of-fact, I’m almost positive of that. It’s what drew me to him from the very beginning.

“Before the world was made, ages and ages ago,” she explained, “I traveled the vastness of the Timeless Void, searching the darkest recesses that existed, in hope of finding something to diminish the Light of my essence.” She glanced at Illyria again, and admitted, “I never cared for the brightness of my fey. It blinded me. I sought to shroud it, so that my Light would be more tolerable to me. Does that make sense? Can you understand that?”

“I believe so. Is that how you found father?”

“Yes,” she replied, recalling those times with fondness. “Ironically, Melkor was searching the Timeless Void for the Secret Light, the Imperishable Flame of Ilúvatar, from which all life sprang, and seeing me, he believed that I was what he sought long for. And when I saw him, an even greater darkness amongst the blackness of space, I rejoiced, knowing that, I too, had found what I had been searching for. We had found each other, at long last!” revealed a misty-eyed Buffy.

“Then we merged, combining our essences as one. His Darkness subdued my Light, and it was pure bliss. I had never felt such joy. It was the first time I had felt that way since my birth. He made me feel complete, whole. Melkor was my counterpart - the yang to my yin,” she added with a snort. “I loved him. I loved him dearly, and he loved me too. We were content, being alone, traveling the dark places the others feared to go. We did that for many ages until he grew weary. Your father came to realize that there had to be an even brighter Light out there, and he left me in search of it. Then I was once again blinded by the radiance of my fey, and it made me sad, and of all our kind, I had no joy. I was alone.”

The Vala Queen closed her eyes for a moment, stifling back her tears. Remembering those times caused her heart to ache with such sorrow.

“Did he come back? Did father return to you?” she inquired.

“Not for a long, long time,” the Slayer replied sadly. “As time passed slowly by, I grew despondent, mourning my loss. My anguish, my suffering from the dreaded Light of my fey, attracted others to me… ”

“Thus creating the Vala of Fornication,” grumbled Illyria, none too pleased to hear where the story was going.

“That’s not fair,” answered Buffy, frowning at her daughter. “Don’t judge me when you don’t know the whole story.”

Illyria stared blankly at her mother for several moments, as they continued their stroll. Then, like a ton of bricks, she homed in on the despair that the Valië had felt at the time. The Old One quickly averted her gaze, looking down at the foamy water lapping at their feet. “I apologize for making my hasty conclusion. Your response was accurate. It was unfair of me. Continue with your tale.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t talk about this,” the Slayer sighed, feeling that perhaps her story was too intimate of a subject to share with her daughter. “I sometimes forget what it’s like to be a daughter. Daughters don’t want to hear about their mother’s relationships with men other than their fathers.”

“If your past… relationships have some bearing on who you now are, then I would like to hear more. I know so little of you as it is. I would like to hear the truth, but more importantly, I would like to hear it from you.”

Buffy glanced at her daughter, who, in turn, nodded her head encouragingly.

“Okay,” the Vala Queen sighed. “But it’s not pretty… You may be right, maybe that was the time when I became the Vala of Fornication, though, technically, we didn’t have bodies in the physical sense, to copulate... ”

“Pfft,” sounded Illyria with a roll of her eyes. “Do not attempt to deceive me. I know that the merging of two feys is, in essence, the act of copulation.”

“Fine. You got me. Okay?” replied the Slayer curtly, her face flushing at her daughter’s remarks.

“Now that we’ve gotten that out in the open, you may continue your tale,” continued Illyria, unruffled in demeanor.

“I don’t even remember where I was,” answered Buffy, still discombobulated by her firstborn’s comments.

“You were speaking of others being attracted to you, to your Light,” replied Illyria without missing a beat.

“Oh, how sweet of you to remember,” mumbled the Vala Queen in her discomfort, nervously fiddling with the bejeweled chain that hung from her neck.

“I find your past rather intriguing. I would like for you to continue,” urged the Old One, sincerely interested to learn everything she could about her mother’s life.

“Um, yeah. Okay.” She sighed before resuming her story from where she had left off. “I assumed that if I merged with another, I would undergo that same blissful, Light-diminishing experience as I had with your father. So, Aulë stepped up to bat next, and being the maker of things deep in the earth, I was content, for a while. But then, after some time, my essence grew brighter, which made absolutely no sense to me - so I fled to the next fellow waiting on the sidelines. That was Ulmo, the Lord of Waters.”

The Slayer turned her gaze to the open waters. Speaking of how she and Ulmo had gotten together made her feel horrible. He had remained true to her even after his descent into Arda, never forgetting the love that he had felt for her. But, sadly, she had never returned it, had never felt the same thing that he had.

“What happened next?” asked Illyria, looking to her mother for more information.

“I did find contentment with Ulmo. But with so many other Ainur around, I asked him if we could go to the Timeless Void, to get away from my other suitors, and to relish the darkness of the Abyss. And he gladly agreed. So we returned to the place that only your father and I had dared to travel, and Ulmo didn’t fear that place. I was content, that is, until Melkor finally returned.”

“I take it father was displeased,” remarked the Old One.

“Displeased? No, no, no,” Buffy answered. “Pissed was more like it. Enraged. I had never seen him that angry before. But Ulmo stood his ground. He didn’t cower from Melkor. Yet, I found myself wanting your father, for he was all I had ever wanted.”

“He took you back?” she queried in disbelief.

“Yeah, he did,” she replied solemnly. “He never found what he was looking for, and came to the conclusion that I was the Imperishable Light. And he wanted me all to himself. I’m of the opinion that that was the turning point for him, that his evil tendencies came about at that time. He felt that I had betrayed him, and his wrath towards our kin was ignited at that time. He found none of them trust-worthy and has looked upon them with contempt ever since.”

“Yet he trusted you?” Illyria asked, her tone full of doubt.

“After I explained myself, he said he understood. It was he that had deserted me, not vice versa. I was lonely. What else was I supposed to do?” she remarked, somewhat defensively.

“You could have waited until his return,” suggested her firstborn.

“That’s easier said then done. When you’re talking millennia upon millennia… ” The Vala Queen paused, shaking her head. “I did wait, but I guess it wasn’t long enough. I just wanted to find peace and contentment. That’s not too much to ask for, is it?”

“I suppose not,” replied Illyria. “Though I could have waited.”

“Hmm,” sounded Buffy. “Maybe you could’ve, but, remember, you’re not me. I kinda think that my nature, being the Vala of Love and all, led me astray. I could be wrong, but… ” She shrugged, never finishing that sentence.

“What happened next? Father said that you did not come with him into Arda. Why was that? Why was it that you stayed behind while the rest of the Ainur entered this world?”

“Well, it wasn’t long after that, that Ilúvatar summoned all of us to the Timeless Halls. And with so many other Ainur there, even more were attracted to my Light, which stirred your father’s wrath even more. Then the Great Music of the Allfather began, revealing His designs, as each one of us had our part to play in the making and guardianship of the world.

“After the music was over, many suitors approached me, asking for my hand in marriage. I gotta admit that seeing your father’s jealousy made me feel good. He had made me feel guilty for some time. It was sort of like payback. Bottom line is - If he hadn’t left me, none of what happened afterwards would’ve come about. I’m not solely to blame for what transpired. I accept some of the responsibility, but not all.”

“But you did not enter Eä,” remarked Illyria.

“No, I didn’t,” she sighed. “Unfortunately, I told one of my biggest lies at the time, that I would choose a husband once we had descended into Arda.” Buffy glanced at her daughter. “Your father assumed I would pick him and eagerly came into this world. One by one, most everyone left, except me. I begged Eru to let me remain with Him, that I wasn’t ready to enter Arda, that I didn’t like all that I saw in the Visions he sent, that they frightened me.

“He agreed, and allowed me to stay behind for a while longer. But He told me that the day would come when I had to enter Eä, that I had a major role to play in the world, and if I didn’t come, the world would suffer as a result. In the meantime, He shut this world off from the outer world so that none could come back to His Halls once they had left.”

“So you were given a reprieve,” she stated incredulously.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” the Slayer said with a chortle. “While your father sought to mar the labors of the Ainur, I traveled the Timeless Void with a new companion, Menelwë… ”

“You took another mate!” her daughter said, sneering.

“Don’t look at me like that!” Buffy snapped back. “You don’t know what it was like, what I was feeling, what tragedies awaited me.” With her eyes narrowed, she added, “You really need to stop jumping to conclusions. It’s unflattering!”

“Sorry,” answered her daughter weakly.

They both fell quiet for a while. The Vala of Love was steaming over her daughter’s condescension, and Illyria was disgusted by her mother’s promiscuity.

After a while, the Old One finally asked, “How is it that you ended up in this world?”

“I was forced here, basically,” she answered. “When Eru asked me to enter the world a second time, I begged Him not to make me go. I was distraught, nearly beside myself. Thankfully, Tulkas came to my rescue, and came in my stead, which granted me more time to savor the peace and tranquility I had found.

“But the third time Ilúvatar summoned me to His Halls, He demanded that the time had arrived and that I had to enter this world.” She glanced at Illyria. “It wasn’t a matter open to debate.”

“Ilúvatar forced you to enter this world?” queried the Old One incredulously.

“Oh, yes,” replied the Valië. “Eru had informed Manwë that the time had arrived when I would descend into Eä.”

“Why would He do that? What was Manwë’s great concern?” asked a bewildered Illyria.

Buffy chuckled. “Several of those suitors that had courted me had come into this world. The Allfather feared that my arrival would rouse the jealousy of those Ainur vying for my affections, that wars would be fought amongst our kinsmen, with me as the prize.”

She chuckled in her uneasiness.

“The Aratar held a council to discuss how they should deal with my arrival,” she continued. “And, my brother, Námo, having listened to the Great Music, as opposed to singing along with it like most of us had, had foreseen a lot more than the others had. It was he that came up with the idea to place the Veil upon me, to hide my memories once I entered this world. The others agreed. But Námo didn’t want me to come in totally blind, so they chose to give me the memories of a young woman not yet born into the world, a Slayer, who would one day play a pivotal role in the End of Days - me, incarnated in a human form.”

Seeing Illyria’s face wrinkled with confusion, Buffy sighed, “It’s rather complicated and hard to explain. But, this shell you see me wearing,” the Vala Queen motioned at her bodily form. “They chose this form for me from the very beginning. The Valar gave me the memories of the mortal, Buffy Summers when Ilúvatar thrust me into this world, into the wilds of Nan Dungortheb many long years ago.”

“I do not understand how the Valar could give you the memories of a lowly being who had not yet been born into the world.”

“Hey! Knock it off with the lowly being stuff, will you?” chastised Buffy. “Mankind is stronger than you give them credit for. They’re not lowly beings. They’re beautiful and brave… ”

“And that is why the world is plagued with war, hmm?” replied her daughter.

“It’s not all their doing. We were the ones that introduced war to Men. They didn’t devise it. We did, particularly your father.”

“Perhaps there are some of that race worthy of appreciation,” remarked Illyria, which was her manner of complimenting the younger children of Ilúvatar. “However, I find that most men are weak, that they easily succumb to temptations, that they are easily corruptible.”

“The same can be said about all races,” corrected her mother. “Even those of greatest stature have yielded to fortune, fame and power, present company included.”

Buffy made a good point, a point which happened to apply to both women.

“You speak truly,” answered the Old One. “Yet you have not told me how the Valar gave you the memories of a mortal child not born into the world.”

“Oh, come on, Illyria,” replied her mother. “They’re powerful, magical beings. It didn’t require that much effort. I believe that they choose to give me the memories of the Slayer so that I could help the peoples in the world against your father, who, at the time, ruled all Middle-earth with an iron fist.”

“Did father know that it was you that had arrived? Did he see through the Veil?” she inquired anxiously.

“Not at first. As luck would have it, one of the first creatures I encountered in Middle-earth were his Orcs. Nasty, beastly creatures they were,” she said with a snicker. “I fought them. Those that escaped went back to Angband and reported to your father that there was a new player in town - me.”

“So you were not compelled to go to him?”

“No way,” shot back the Slayer. “I met the dwarves and they took me to Doriath, the realm of the Elf Lord, Thingol and his Queen, Melian the Maia.”

“Father said they were parasites,” revealed the Old One. “He was not fond of the Elf or Melian.”

“Color me surprised,” mumbled Buffy with a roll of her eyes. “Granted, Thingol could be an ass, but Melian was a great woman. She wasn’t privy to the councils of the Aratar, but she saw that there was more to me than met the eye. She noticed that from the very beginning, and helped me every chance she could.”

“If you dwelt with the Elves, how did you come to reunite with father again?”

“Well, I first saw him in the Mirror, I believe, then in dreams. The dreams were vividly crazy! He somehow managed to pull me from my home in Doriath and bring me to Angband. It was bizarre, to say the least. That’s when he realized who I was. But I had no idea who he was, other than the Dark Lord. Then he bewitched me, wove his magics about me until I became his lapdog, his horny lapdog at that!”

“I take it that is when he impregnated you, when I was conceived,” said a dejected Illyria.

“Yes,” Buffy answered, rubbing her daughter’s arm consolingly. “I know that’s hard to hear, but that’s how it happened. Looking back, I’m glad it did. I want to get to know you, Illyria. You’re a good person and deep down, you know you are too. Don’t be afraid to show your emotions. Don’t be afraid to admit your weaknesses.”

“I am not weak! I am strong,” she countered, looking icily at her mother.

“No one is strong all the time. We all have our weaknesses.”

“And what is your weakness, Mother?” queried her daughter.

“Isn’t that obvious?” laughed the Vala Queen. “Men!”

“I should have guessed that,” said Illyria with a derisive snort.

“What about you? What are your weaknesses?” asked the Slayer.

“I find it presumptuous of you to put your query in plural form!” snapped the Old One. “Now that I have regained my powers, I have no weaknesses.”

“Bullshit!” exclaimed Buffy. “We all have weaknesses, whether you think so or not. No one is all-powerful except for Eru Ilúvatar. So, come off it. Tell me what you think is your weakness.”

Illyria thought for a minute or so, thinking back over her years of life. “There was this one time,” she began, “after my resurrection. I remember it well. I was holding the Watcher, Wesley in my arms, as he lay dying. It pained me to see him bested in battle. This clear, salty liquid came from my eyes, my nose ran with a foul substance… ”

The Slayer shook her head. “That’s tears, sweetie, and mucus. What you felt wasn’t weakness, it was strength.”

Illyria stopped, staring at her mother, not wholly understanding what she was saying.

“What you felt was love,” the Valië explained. “And love is something that gives you strength. It doesn’t make you weak.”

“What I felt was the remnants of that Burkle woman’s lingering essence. It was not my feelings, but hers.”

“Is that what you convinced yourself of, eh?” asked Buffy with her hands on her hips. “There’s nothing wrong with loving someone, even humans. You need to learn that, to embrace it. It’s a part of who you are.”

“If love is such a good thing, then why did I feel such pain, such sorrow when he died?” queried the perplexed Old One.

“Because love is a many-faceted thing. It comes in different forms, different degrees.”

Illyria continued to look bemusedly at her mother.

“For example, I love chocolate, but not in the same way as I love, say - you. My love for you is greater than chocolate, but I still love chocolate, but to a much lesser degree.”

“Your words are confusing to me. It sounds very… mortalish.”

Buffy laughed. “Mortalish! See - you’re even beginning to sound like me, coming up with crazy new words. That’s what we women do. Helps pass the boredom,” she added, linking her arm with Illyria’s once again, and taking off down the beach. “Love is the most powerful of emotions. Don’t fear it. Embrace it. In the long run, you’ll derive strength from it. Believe me, I know what I’m talking about.”

“Perhaps I’ll heed your advice,” answered Illyria, “though I still find the concept strange and unsettling.”

“That’ll pass, with time.” Buffy turned her gaze to her firstborn. “You know that a shift in power is about to happen, don’t you? The reign of Manwë Súlimo has ended, and a new power will soon rise. The Lordship of Arda will come to my House, the House of Luinil, and you shall be a significant part of that, my daughter. You will soon become Queen.”

“Queen?” repeated a stunned Illyria, her face then mirroring her thoughts. She then suddenly became suspicious of her mother’s words. “Why would I become Queen when you are the head of our House?”

“Our House,” Buffy whispered. “You don’t know how happy it makes me to hear you say that - for it is our House.” She smiled, as her daughter kept her eyes on her, waiting for the Vala Queen to divulge what she knew. “I have no desire to rule anything or anyone,” the Vala of Love admitted. “Been there, done that. It’s time for the next generation to ascend to the throne.”

“Then what is it you desire, if not the lordship of the world?” asked her daughter.

The Slayer shifted her eyes to the heavens. “To return to the dark recesses of the world with your father,” she whispered wistfully. “That was the only place where I had ever found complete and utter bliss.”

“You are going to leave?” questioned Illyria with a puzzled expression on her face. “I do not understand. Why would you want to leave if Heaven will be on Earth?”

“Heaven on Earth is my gift to those left here. It’s not for me. The darkness, that’s for me,” she revealed in a quiet voice. “It calls to me, begging for my return.” She looked at her daughter. “And I will soon answer that call, and finally, I’ll be free.”

Illyria glanced up at the pitch-black sky, unable to understand her mother’s fascination with the dark vastness of space that lay beyond. “I do not understand this longing of yours, but if that is your heart’s desire, then so be it.”

Buffy nodded. “Yeah, so be it.” She then stopped. “I’m afraid our little reunion has come to an end.”

“So soon? We have had too little time.”

“I know. Another thing about living in this world - sometimes, life sucks. But you get over it, and move on.” The Vala Queen cupped her daughter’s cheek. “I’m proud of you. I’m proud that you’ve picked a side and fought along with the good guys. Keep it up.” She planted a kiss on Illyria’s forehead. “But, now, I’ve got to go. I’ve got some last business to tend to… ”

“Can I go with you?” she asked, not wanting to part from her mother so soon.

“I’m sorry, sweetie. Not this time. You need to go to Mandos with the others. Your uncle will keep you safe, safe from the impending doom.”

“No,” the Old One replied, shaking her head. “I wish to go with you. We have only just been reunited and my heart tells me we will soon be parted. Let me assist you with your final errands. If it’s war you are going to make, then I can help. I am a mighty warrior.”

“I know you are, but this is something I’ve gotta do on my own.”

Buffy waved her hand, opening a portal on the sandy beach.

Illyria glanced at the mystical gateway, none too eager to enter it.

“You have to go, honey,” said Buffy, gently nudging her daughter toward the portal. “I’ll see you soon.”

The Old One stepped forward, stopping before the entrance. Slowly, she turned, looking sweetly at her mother. “Nana?” she said, speaking Sindarin for the first time.

“Yes,” replied Buffy, delighted to hear her firstborn utter ‘mother’ in Elvish.

“I… I love you,” she said.

Tears came to the Vala Queen’s eyes upon hearing that. Smiling, she softly answered, “Thank you. Thank you for telling me. And I love you too.”

Illyria gave her a warm smile before turning, leaping into the portal, and disappearing from the enchanted isle of Ulmo.

Only a moment later, Buffy, too, departed that place, never to return again…