Full Circle

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: THE REAL ME



Luthor stood there for a few moments listening to the whimpering sounds of the Slayer. He too had become overwhelmed with emotion by watching and listening to her but he had to compose himself. If the Slayer is weak, than he must be strong. It would be no good if they both fell into darkness. He had to find a way to bring her back…to inflame the fire within her. That poor child has been walking around in the dark for far too long, he thought. And now it sounded like she had given up – that she had lost all faith and hope. He took a deep breath before saying, “I am back, Inanna, and I have found many faggots with the aid of the Shepherds.”

“What?” asked a confused Slayer. “Faggots?” Buffy didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. Surely he wasn’t gay, not that there was anything wrong with it, but to announce that he had brought back ‘faggots’. Something didn’t sound right.

“The wood,” he replied, unaware of her confusion. “The Shepherds helped me locate some dried wood.”

That misinterpretation actually put a smile on the Slayer’s face for the first time in quite a few months. Buffy always found it amusing when she heard words in Middle-earth that had a very different connotation back home. This was yet another perfect example. “Oh, okay. Now that makes sense to me,” she said as she wiped the tears from her face.

Luthor stacked the wood in a neat pile. He wiped his hands on his breeches and took a seat next to her. “I am sorry,” he said softly.

“For what?” she asked as she stared at the flickering flames of the fire.

“For your pain…the hardships that you must endure.” He faced her. “No good will come from being consumed by grief. You must deal with your feelings and move on.”

“How?” she asked as her eyes began to well with tears again. “How can you expect me to do that after all that I’ve done…That thing. I gave birth to a blue demony thing!”

“I know. But you must bear in mind that your will was not your own. Melkor controlled your thoughts and actions, but no more. I will help you there, my friend. You need to remember that you are not alone here…”

“See, that’s what you don’t understand,” said the Slayer as she got to her feet. “I am alone. I’m always alone.” She began pacing. “I don’t know what to think any more…I don’t know who I am any more. I’ve been led astray and I can’t…”

Luthor got to his feet and grabbed Buffy by her shoulders. “Do not say ‘can’t’ when you actually mean ‘won’t’. And you are not alone, you have me.”

“Oh great,” she laughed as the tears spilled from her eyes. “Yeah, I get one of Morgoth’s head honchos from Hell. I guess I deserve that since that’s where I’m gonna end up!” She looked into Luthor’s eyes. “You’re only here to save your own ass. You’re a traitor and when Morgoth finds out, you’re a goner!”

Luthor was taken aback by her words. He found them very hurtful. “Is that what you think?” he asked in a soft voice. “You think that I am here to save my own skin…”

“I didn’t stutter, did I?”

He let go of her and walked back to the fire and sat down. Buffy felt horrible after she said that. She was angry with herself, not Luthor, but she couldn’t help it. Right now, she hated herself more than anybody else. “I’m sorry Luthor,” she said between sobs. “I just don’t know what’s wrong with me. I think I’m losing it. And I don’t even know what ‘it’ is.”

“Come,” he said as he patted the ground. “Sit with me.” A blubbering Buffy sat beside him. Luthor found himself in a most unusual predicament. He had spent many years dwelling in the fortress of the Dark Lord and had never encountered a situation like this before. Crying was not an option in Angband unless one is the victim of cruel torments and now here was Inanna, sobbing in a most unpleasant fashion. He was unsure of what to do. He didn’t understand how to comfort and reassure her, to let her know that all would be all right in the end. He awkwardly put his arm around her and she in turn leaned against his chest continuing her sobbing. Luthor found this moment of ‘affection’ strange and slightly unnerving. But he let her cry it out, even though his tunic was quickly becoming wetter and wetter.

Luthor wished that he knew a song that offered her hope but he knew of none. He was great with spells of enchantment or the making of magical elixirs but not with writing songs that offered inspiration and strength. The only songs he could come up with were ones that would trouble the Slayer even more. When it seemed like the Slayer cried all the tears she could, he asked, “Is there not anything that I can do to ease your pain? Perhaps a tonic…”

“What good would a tonic do? It’ll only put off the inevitable for so long,” she replied. Buffy attempted to regain her self-control. She sat upright and wiped her face on the sleeve of her cloak. “I’ve got to deal with this and move on. I know that, but it’s not easy.”

Luthor smiled at those words. “That is a most excellent suggestion, Inanna. I could not agree with you more. So here we are…” he remarked as the chamber fell silent except for the sound of the tinkling water and the occasional pop from the fire. “There are several issues that need to be dealt with, Inanna,” he said after several minutes. “I know how very painful things are for you. Getting your will back after such a horrible…ordeal can be overwhelming…”

She leaned against his frame. “Am I fixable?” she asked.

He chuckled. “I think there is hope for you yet…Things will get better…”

“I’m a freak!” Buffy said as she continued to stare into the fire.

“A freak?” queried Luthor. Buffy told him what it meant. “If that is the case, then I would like to be a freak as well. And I must tell you, Inanna, you have lost quite a bit of weight. The journey has been well for you.” Buffy had walked off nearly half of her post-pregnancy weight but still had a way to go.

“Yeah,” she replied somberly. “Only thirty more to go.” And once again, the chamber fell silent.

“Perhaps I should tell you a tale…” he suggested.

“I’m not really in the mood for a story. Not right now, anyway,” she said.

“Then what shall we do?” he asked. Buffy shrugged her shoulders. Luthor continued, “Perhaps you would like to hear my tale after all…it may have answers for the questions you have been searching for.”

“Like what?” she asked.

“Well, like who you are…what you are…your past. I would think that you would be interested in such things.”

“I know who I used to be, I just don’t know who I am anymore,” she replied. She wasn’t in the mood to be teased with information again.

“Your true name is Maranwë. Did you know that?”

Buffy shifted her position and looked at him. “What are you talking about?”

“I told you. That is your true name – Maranwë. It’s quite lovely really. At least, I think so.”

Buffy said the name out loud a couple of times. “It doesn’t ring a bell.”

“I suppose not. I know much about you…Maranwë. I would have thought that you would desire to know about your origins and why Melkor chose you…”

“Are you jesting with me?” she inquired apprehensively.

“I jest you not. I know more about you than you do,” his tone was quite serious.

“Okay, so tell me something I don’t know,” she remarked.

“Very well. You are a Vala of…”

“What?!” she exclaimed, stopping him mid-sentence.

“You do not need to speak so loudly!” He chastised. “I may resemble an old man but I am not deaf…and yes, I said you are a Vala.”

“You’re just saying that…you’re trying to make me feel better,” she grumbled.

“That is not true. Not all that I will tell you will be pleasant to your ears. Some of it is quite unpleasant. Would you like for me to continue?”

“Continue away,” responded an attentive and disbelieving Slayer.

“Long ago, before the world was wrought, there lived the Ainur. I know that you are aware that the Ainur are comprised of the Valar and the Maiar. You, my friend, are the youngest sister of the Fëanturi; Námo and Irmo. You also have an older sister named Nienna, the Lady of mourning and pity.”

“Seems appropriate,” commented Buffy. “Luthor, if what you’re telling me is true, why do I have no memories of any of it? I’ve spent a lot of time with Melian and she’s told me lots of stories about the Valar, but I’ve never heard her mention anyone by the name of Maranwë.” Buffy was slightly intrigued by the notion but found it too far-fetched.

“Did Melian tell you tales of the Valar who did not descend into Eä?” he asked. Before Buffy could respond, he continued, “I doubt that she did. Most of the Ainur did not enter this world, choosing instead to dwell in the Timeless Halls with Eru…You were one of them. Why you are here now? I do not truly know, but you did not enter Eä at the same time as the rest of us. Only one has come since the beginning, other than you – Tulkas. And I do not doubt that Melian has told you many tales of his deeds of valor! It was Tulkas who captured Melkor and hauled him back to Valinor after the Battle of the Powers. He is the so called champion of the Valar, yet Melkor was still able to escape his confinement. Tulkas may have great strength but he is rather dim and a true champion must possess both strength and wisdom. And now you are here! That is not mere chance. You are supposed to be here,” Luthor said excitedly. “What Tulkas lacks, you possess.”

Buffy didn’t believe a word of it. How could she? “Okay, so if what your saying is true, why now? Why am I here now at this particular moment in time? And without any memories or super powers?” She paused. “Alright, I may have some powers, but you know what I mean. Super duper powers.”

“I can only speculate as I do not know the will of Eru,” he continued in a somber tone. “I believe that you were sent here to take Melkor down…to assist in thwarting his upcoming reign of terror.” He lowered his voice, “You have not truly witnessed what Melkor is capable of doing. You have only seen a small portion of his armies. He has been breeding creatures for thousands and thousands of years and he continues to do so this very day. He will crush all who stand in his way. The Dark Lord sits in his Iron Prison seething over the Lordship of Arda passing to Manwë. And now he speaks of the humiliation he had to endure, cowering at the feet of Manwë, praying for pardon.” He shook his head and resumed his normal speaking voice. “No. The Dark Lord does not forget. His imprint will forever be left on Eä.

“So one must assume that is why the timing is now. If I recollect correctly, you entered Eä the same time Melkor was released from Mandos – eight years have passed since that time. I am sorry to disappoint you, Inanna…uh…er, Maranwë…which name do you prefer I call you?” Luthor asked.

Buffy thought for a moment. “Bellaseth. Or Bella. That’s what I wanna be called.”

Luthor smiled, “Yes. Of course. Bella.”

“Did I hate my brothers and sister?” asked Buffy casually. She still wasn’t buying it but she was still curious all the same.

“Hate them? Why would you ask that?” he asked with a puzzled expression on his face.

“Because there had to be some reason why I didn’t enter Eä with them. My guess is because I didn’t like them…or they didn’t like me, why else would I not join my family?” Buffy thought that made sense.

“There are other possibilities,” said a grim faced Luthor. He fell silent which definitely peaked Buffy’s interest.

“Such as?” she finally questioned.

“Well…” he replied and then fell quiet again.

“C’mon Luthor, there’s no need to beat around the bush. Just spit it out. I’m actually interested in what you have to say.”

He looked at her and then back at the fire while nervously chewing his bottom lip. Finally he said, “You must understand Bellaseth that what I am about to tell you transpired thousands and thousands of years ago. It is long in the past. So please remember that.” He took a deep breath and then said, “Your fate is intertwined with that of Melkor whether you like it or not. It has been that way for many years now.”

“I don’t understand,” commented the Slayer.

He sighed heavily. “You soon will. Let me first tell you of Melkor and his quest for the Imperishable Light, something that he has longed for since the beginning. He searched far and wide for it. He wanted to claim it as his own for he is a being of darkness yet he desires the beauty and power of light. He would take it for himself if given the chance.”

“I thought that the Light was the essence of Eru.”

“It is,” responded Luthor. “That is why Melkor will never gain possession of it. So he sought out the next brightest light he could find…and that was you, Bellaseth. Your essence is blinding and full of love, so much so that all who seek love and comfort are drawn to you. Melkor was no exception. He was your first…”

“My first?” she questioned. “My first what?”

“Your first love.”

“No way.” Even though Buffy expressed doubt, she knew that it made sense. That would explain those feelings of familiarity she experienced when in Morgoth’s presence.

“I am afraid so. As Melkor is drawn to the light, you are drawn to the darkness. I cannot wholly explain that, but it is true. In those days you sought out the darkest places you could find and it was while exploring those desolate regions that you met and fell in love with Melkor…”

“We were lovers?” asked Buffy.

“Oh, yes. Of course, you were not embodied at that time. One demonstrated one’s love by combining one’s essence with another. That union increased the powers of both fey’s. Melkor desired to harness the power that you possessed. You see my dear Bellaseth, you have the ability to draw those to you by your love. And Melkor used that to entice others to folly. I am accounted among those who were beguiled by both you and he during the Great Music. Together, we all played our part in the marring of Ea.”

While Buffy was finding this tale rather remarkable, she also found that it struck a cord deep inside. And for some reason the words of Dracula came back to her, ‘Your powers are rooted in darkness.’ And now Luthor was telling her that she had helped Morgoth mar this world. Too much had happened to her to disregard Luthor’s words altogether. But then again, if she loved Morgoth, even a little, why didn’t she enter Ea with him? She asked Luthor that very question.

“Well, I did say that not all of the tale would be unpleasant.” He smiled kindly and then chuckled. “I recall that time all too clearly…especially when your heart turned from Melkor.” Buffy raised her eyebrows questionably. “Oh yes,” he said responding to her look. “I believe the words Melkor used were, ‘Maranwë possesses a fickle heart,’ because your heart did turn to another…Ulmo.”

“What?” asked an astonished Buffy.

“You heard me. For whatever reasons, you turned from Melkor to Ulmo. I would deem that it had to do with Melkor’s long absences. Often he would stray to faraway places in search of the Imperishable Light even after he had bound himself with you. His lust for more has never ceased…” He watched as the Slayer’s gaze returned to the fire. He sensed that she did not believe what he was telling her, but he knew by the end of this night, she would. “I know what you are thinking, Bellaseth, and no, you are not evil. Melkor is cunning and his ability to speak words of adoration and flattery are…”

“Did I love him?” she asked faintly.

“I believe you did…as I believe a part of you still does, and always will.” Buffy shuddered at the thought. “I also believe that Melkor has loved only one beside himself…and that is you, Bellaseth. Your bond will last forever no matter what barriers separate you. One is always bound to their first love. It is no different for the Ainur.”

“What do you mean by ‘bound’?” asked Buffy.

Luthor stood up and pulled a vial from the pocket of his breeches. “You are connected,” he stated as he poured a drop of some type of liquid into the fire. The flames flickered from bright white to blue and then to white again. The entire chamber was brightly lit. “You bear his mark,” Luthor said.

“That hammer thingy?” queried Buffy as she turned her head in an attempt to shield her eyes from the light.

“That is no hammer!” stated Luthor as the light began to dim. “That is a mace.”

“It’s the same thing, more or less.”

Luthor laughed. The room continued to glow with that same white light but with less intensity. “That is like calling your scythe an axe!”

“What do you know about my scythe?” asked Buffy. She had never told him about it.

“I have seen everything about you, Bellaseth. That is, everything about Buffy Summers, the Chosen One.” He waved his hand over the fire and then a vision appeared in the hall. It was Buffy, but back in ‘modern times’ – her past. It was like watching a home movie, sound and all that recorded every minute detail of her life. She was mortified that things she would never have shared with anybody were now being played out before her and Luthor. He held up the vial. “This contains your blood. It has very powerful properties.” Before Buffy could ask him when and why he acquired it, he continued, “While in Angband, I had access to you. I had to delve further. I needed to confirm who you truly were and I have learned a great deal about you since I retrieved this.” He shook the vial. “I can only see what has happened to you since you entered Eä, so it does not show things that have happened prior to you taking on this human form you now possess…My intensions were not malicious, I only wished to see that Melkor was correct in his assessment…that you were indeed Maranwë.”

Buffy shook her head as she watched the trials of her previous life unfold before her eyes. “This is insanity,” she snapped. “I know what happened in my past. That doesn’t prove that I’m this Maranwë you claim I am…” She was referring to the picture show of her life that was still on display.

“Oh, that is where you are wrong, dear child,” he replied. “The lineage of the Slayer begins and ends with you. Melkor has told you that he is both the First and the Last, the same applies to you…”

“But there are hundreds of Slayers now,” she declared.

“And who acknowledges them as The Slayer? None. They are recognized as a Slayer, but not The Slayer. You can have thousands or hundreds of thousands of Slayers, yet all those with real power, they will look to you as the One and Only Slayer. You are the First and the Last - just like Melkor. Your fates are intertwined with the world.” Luthor shoved the vial back into his pocket and sat directly across from the Slayer. He took her hands in his. “No one knows Melkor’s mind as you do.” The images that continued to play now revealed things that transpired while she was in Angband. Buffy watched as Melkor revealed his innermost thoughts and secrets to her while she was under his spell of bewitchment. “He has shared things with you that he has shared with no other, including his most trusted servants. Even now, in this time and place, he still confided in you. The only difference is that you were not a willing participant this go around. Those things that he disclosed to you must be used against him…to foil his evil plans. That, my child, is what I think your true purpose is.”

Luthor looked at Buffy with a knowing smile. This was just too much for her to take in at one time. “I’m sorry Luthor, I’m pretty overwhelmed right now.” She continued watching her life. “Stop it…please,” she pleaded. She no longer wished to see her life flashing before her eyes whether it be past or present. With a wave of his hand, the image disappeared. The chamber was still glowing with that white light although it was no longer blinding. “Thanks,” she finally said.

“Do you believe me?” Luthor asked through peering eyes.

“I don’t know,” she replied. She sat there quietly for several minutes before saying, “I’m really sorry I was bitchy before. I didn’t mean those things I said earlier. I’m glad you’re with me. I really need a friend right now.”

“Do not concern yourself with apologies Bella. You have endured many hardships in the past year. In fact, I believe that you are holding up rather well, considering everything that has come to pass.” Luthor then fell silent.

Buffy sat there staring into the fire. Luthor changed his position and now sat beside the Slayer. So many thoughts were going through Buffy’s mind. Could she really be one of the Valar? For some reason she remembered the words of Ulmo warning her to ‘expect the unexpected’ in her dream the night before she came here via the Hellmouth. Even if she expected the unexpected, she would never have expected what she actually got! Maybe Luthor’s story had some validity to it after all. It was Salmar, a servant of Ulmo that taught Buffy the art of astral projection. And Luthor’s story only echoed what Salmar had told her years earlier.

She now understood the significance of the words that haunted her for all these years, ‘you think you know, what’s to come, what you are…you haven’t even begun yet…’ It was true. She was one of the Powers, a Vala. It was like all the pieces of a puzzle coming together and Buffy was seeing the picture for the first time. It made sense to her now. She had so many dreams and visions over the years that suggested that she was more than just your average Slayer. Besides that, how many people, both good and bad, had alluded that she was something more? And after everything that she had been through in the past year, it only confirmed that notion. But she was still clueless on why she had no memory of her distant past. Her memories only went back to her life as Buffy, nothing more. It was obvious that some greater power didn’t want her to know about it. Not yet, any way. But why? “I believe you Luthor,” she said breaking the long silence.

“Yes,” he nodded his head. “I knew you would.”

“That doesn’t mean that I understand what’s really going on here. Melian had told me that there was a veil of concealment about me. Why do you think that is? What don’t I remember any of it?”

“Alas, I do not have the answer to that riddle. Perhaps things will reveal themselves…in time.” He replied.

“How I hate those two little words,” grumbled Buffy. “In time. That should be my motto or something.”

“You have heard that before I take it?” he questioned.

“Like a million times,” responded the Slayer. “It’s weird, ya know. For so long I wanted to know who I really was…I kinda thought I was a Maia like you and Melian. Never would I have imagined that I was a Vala. It’s so surreal.”

“You know Bellaseth, you must keep your identity a secret. You cannot divulge your true nature to any including Melian. It is imperative that you do that,” Luthor instructed. “For whatever reasons, the Valar do not want anyone to know that you are here. We must conceal that from all the peoples of Middle-earth.”

“But Morgoth knows,” she stated. “He knows who I am.”

“Indeed he does. And we shall see how that bit of knowledge unfolds in days to come. Promise me that you will keep that secret to yourself. Do not tell a living soul about who you really are. We must honor the will of the Valar, whether we understand it or not.”

“That’s fine by me. I don’t think anyone would believe me any way.”

“Do not be so sure of that. I deem that any who heard your tale would most certainly believe. There may be days to come where you do not have the bliss of anonymity.” Luthor started chewing his bottom lip, again. “We must get to work, there is still much more to do. We have to get you back into fighting shape first and foremost. Are you ready for that?”

“I was born ready,” replied the Slayer.

“Good. Then let us get to work!” Luthor ordered. And so began Buffy’s training. Her regimen was a mixture of martial arts, meditation and backbreaking labor. She and Luthor discovered several other passageways other than the main one at the entrance. That led to the idea of them constructing some type of living quarters within that stronghold. Ergo the back breaking labor! Buffy thought that Luthor was taking advantage of her by having her do all the heavy lifting of large rocks that needed to be removed, but he swore it was just part of building back her muscle mass.

It was several weeks later after one of those strenuous workouts when Buffy collapsed into a fitful sleep and experienced her first ‘weird’ dream since departing the Black Lands after giving birth to Illyria. Buffy found herself at The Bronze, the local hang out in Sunnydale that had long ago been sucked into Hell. The place was packed with mortal people as well as elves and dwarves. That was strange enough as normally one might find vampires or an occasional demon at that haunt. All of the patrons were clad in white robes except for the Slayer who was dressed in black leather pants and a white turtle neck sweater.

Buffy maneuvered through the throng of people and noticed that they were separated by race. The dwarves were congregated around a seating area in a far corner examining and swapping various pieces of jewelry while downing large quantities of beer. On the opposite side of the room there was a cluster of mortals (both male and female) acting, well, like mortals. There was a lot of playful flirting and teasing going on from what Buffy could see. It appeared as if they were having a good time. And the dance floor was full of elves. She found it quite amusing to watch them dirty dancing to the tunes of ‘modern’ music. The Slayer only recognized a handful of elves and no one else. She assumed that it was too crowded to see properly, so she climbed up the stairs to the loft.

The loft was deserted except for nine men who were dressed from head to toe in black. Buffy didn’t give them a second thought as she walked over to the balcony to watch the partying below. There was no live band and several of the mortals were now dancing wildly on the stage to Prince’s When Doves Cry. Buffy couldn’t help but chuckle to herself, she found the whole scenario quite comical, to say the least.

As Buffy stood there, she had an eerie feeling that someone was watching her…intently. The Police song Every Breath You Take started blaring through the house speakers. Slowly Buffy turned around and came face to face with none other than Morgoth himself. He stood maybe ten feet away from her. “Finally, I have found you,” he said as he took several steps toward her. As he moved closer, the Slayer stepped backwards until her body made contact with the balcony railing. “Why do recoil before me?” he questioned.

“What do you want?” she asked as she mustered her courage.

Morgoth’s facade was that of the handsome variety not the demony one. “I have come to bring you home…home to your family. Illyria is in need of her mother…”

“You have one hell of a nerve,” she retorted. “You think you can waltz in here and woo me back after everything you’ve done? You bewitched me. You made me a puppet. But guess what? I’m not under your thrall any more.” She took a few steps forward. “You’re going down, lover, and I’m gonna be the bane of your existence!”

Morgoth’s face grew stern. “I see you have been listening to the tainted wisdom of Luthor.” He shook his head. “You think that you can trust him? He is nothing more than a traitorous fool. You will see that before the end. Your fate is tied to mine, my dear Melisse. Whatever befalls me, will in turn befall you, remember that. I am always watching.” He walked over to the railing and peered down at the people below. “One by one they will fall…and by my hands no less. These parasites that you count as your allies will perish. All of them.” He rested his arms on the topmost bar. Buffy turned and looked at the crowd below. All lay dead, covered in blood. Their bodies twisted into grotesque shapes.

His lips curled into a sinister smile. “It is as I told you before Melisse, if you are not with me then you are against me. I will see to it that your life is full of sorrow and pain. You will watch all those you claim to love wither before your very eyes. Is that what you want?” He turned to her, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. “It does not have to be that way.”

“Bullshit!” Buffy replied in a contemptuous tone. “I know you, Melkor Bauglir. You have no intentions on stopping the spread of your malice. It’s what you do…”

“And what is it you do…Maranwë?” Buffy was stunned that he used that name. “Oh yes,” he continued. “I am aware of your true identity, and I see that you are as well.” He moved in closer, whispering in her ear, “You have brought evil into this world as much as I have. In fact, you have done things that I had not given thought to before. The portals. Do you remember breaking through those dimensional barriers so that our children could escape if need be?” Buffy’s heart sank. She did recall that. The Hellmouths were a feat that they accomplished together during the latter days of her stint in Angband. “One hundred and forty-four of those things you call ‘Hellmouths’ now exist in this plane. Oh yes, my dear Maranwë, you do possess remarkable talents. I knew that from day one. That is why I bound myself to you. You are everything I ever dreamt of.”

Buffy continued to look at the carnage below. “Then I’ll fight to undo what I did. It wasn’t my will that brought those things about, it was yours.”

“See, that is where you are wrong. The yrch, trolls and balrogs were my design. These new creatures that you’ve brought about came by your will, not mine. I could never conceive of beings with such…power as the ones that you have fashioned. And they will unleash their cruel torments on all the children of Eru…and nothing will please me more.”

“I’ll kill them,” she said through gritted teeth. “I’ll kill every last one…”

Morgoth laughed wholeheartedly at that comment. “Will you now? I do not foresee that, Melisse. Say what you will in order to convince yourself that your undertaking was less than mine. Without you, these new breed of demons would not exist. Dwell on that…lover.”

“You will fall and I’ll be there when it happens,” she scoffed.

His smile widened. “I would not have it any other way, Melisse, I would not have it any other way.” He grabbed her by the shoulders and planted a kiss on her forehead. “Until we meet again, and I assure you, we will.” He turned and descended down the stairway followed by the nine cloaked men. She could hear Morgoth singing along with the song, “…every vow you break, every smile you fake, every claim you stake, I’ll be watching you…*” the music ended as soon as Morgoth left the building.

“Well done,” Buffy heard Luthor say as he approached. “You handled yourself well.”

Buffy was surprised to see Luthor in her dream. “How did you…I mean, are you really here?”

“Let us see,” he pinched Buffy on the arm and she winced. “Apparently so.”

Buffy rubbed her arm vigorously. “There was no need to pinch, Luthor. That hurt.”

“Forgive me,” he smiled. “You did very well against Melkor. Very well indeed.”

“It’s true isn’t it? About the Hellmouths?” she asked.

“It is. But it is as you said, you will right the errors of your past. It is not all your fault, but it was your strength that brought all those horrible things into being. Together, we will destroy them one by one.”

“What about them?” Buffy asked, referring to the dead people below.

“It is only a dream,” he replied. “Melkor willed their deaths and it happened. Will them alive and they shall be.”

Buffy closed her eyes for a few moments. When she opened them, all the people had once again resumed what they were doing before the arrival of Morgoth. That made her happy once again.

“Come,” said Luthor. “Show me Sunnydale as it was before it was sucked into Hell. I am most anxious to explore the town where the Slayer was nurtured in the days of her youth.”

They headed down the stairs. “I can show you my house and…oh god, Luthor, let’s go to Starbucks! Even if this is only a dream, a latte would really hit the spot right now…” They talked happily together as they crossed the floor of the club. Buffy felt someone watching her. She looked over her shoulder before they left through the front entrance and saw a handsome, dark haired elf watching her closely. Buffy’s heart fluttered as their eyes locked. She smiled shyly before exiting The Bronze with Luthor.



*lyrics by Sting.