Full Circle

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: THE GIFT



Buffy awoke from her blissful dream and immediately sought out Luthor. She really enjoyed the visit to Sunnydale (in spite of the encounter with Morgoth) and she still had the aftertaste of coffee in her mouth. She found Luthor in one of the chambers mending some of her clothing. Buffy had lost all the weight she had gained and her physique was better than ever, thanks to those strenuous workouts. She was now more muscular and shapely, so most of her stuff had to be altered. And that’s something that Luthor didn’t mind doing at all. “That was awesome,” she said as she entered the chamber. “I really had a blast last night.”

Luthor looked up at her. “Yes, it was quite enjoyable. I look forward to the future with more anticipation than ever before. I do have a better understanding for the strange garments you wear. I would never have thought that dresses could be so short!”

Buffy laughed. “Better not take you to any nude beaches, then.” Luthor’s jaw dropped open.

“Nude beaches?” he questioned excitedly.

“Calm down, pops!” replied the Slayer teasingly. “I’ve actually got some news to tell you.” He stopped what he was doing and gave Buffy his full attention. “After our little trip I actually heard that voice in my head again. You know the one I heard when I first came here. Apparently it’s time for me to meet with this Durin guy. He’s like the king of the dwarves or something…”

“When shall you depart?” he questioned.

“My guess is now…” she answered.

“What did the voice say…exactly?” interrupted Luthor.

“Well, basically it told me to fulfill my duty or something or another. It said the time was drawing near and I needed to get a move on and visit Durin…I’m paraphrasing, of course, but that’s pretty much the gist of it, I think.”

“Hmm,” replied Luthor as he went back to work. “It is terribly cold outside to take such a long journey…I do not think that you should use your powers whilst…”

“Screw that!” she shot back. “I’m not walking anywhere. I can do that disappearing thing pretty well. I figured I’d just teleport my happy ass there via magic. Might as well use it since I have it.”

“You cannot go around Middle-earth displaying your powers on a whim!” He scolded. “You must use caution. Those magicks are a part of who you are. You do not want to reveal your identity too hastily. Eru only knows who may be lurking about.”

“But Luthor,” argued Buffy. “I’m one of the Powers; no one can mess with me.”

“Have we forgotten Melkor already? He is stronger than ALL the other Ainur including you. Do not forget that. And we have not yet witnessed the powers of Illyria. There is no telling what she is capable of…”

“Fine,” replied a sulky Buffy. “And for your information, I haven’t forgotten! I just don’t want to spend the next century walking to the Misty Mountains.”

“Use discretion. That is all I ask.” He resumed his sewing.

“Well, it’s not like I’m gonna go turning dwarves into toads or something…” she said jokingly.

Luthor shook his head as he uttered, “I deem that you have transformed enough…” His tone was severe.

“It was just a joke,” she retorted. “I wasn’t really gonna do anything like that.” She would never forget that she had ‘transformed’ many demons into being while in Angband. Buffy returned to her sleeping chamber and started shoving various garments into a bag. As she pulled on her thick wool coat she noticed that she was dressed entirely in blue. When she had everything she needed, she bid farewell to Luthor and exited their hidden halls.

The weather was atrocious for this time of year. Snow whirled around her as she pulled a blue knitted cap over her head ensuring that at least her ears would remain warm. Her fur-lined boots sank into the deep drifts as she took a few steps away from the doorway. She focused all her brainpower on the Halls of Durin beneath the peaks of the Misty Mountains. And then she vanished in a blink of an eye.

“Shit,” she said through chattering teeth after she reappeared only moments later. Buffy had expected to arrive outside the gates of Durin’s Halls not a couple of miles away. She had no idea what direction she was facing, as the sun was nowhere to be seen. The temperature was frigid and Buffy was happy that it was snow-free. But the dark gray clouds that loomed above her indicated that it was about to rain or snow, Buffy couldn’t tell which. She continued shivering as she surveyed the area. Buffy was in a valley close to the base of the Misty Mountains; its two arms stretched out on either side. As she looked up admirably at those peaks, large drops of rain began to fall from the sky. “Oh great,” she muttered to herself. “Just my luck.”

She wasn’t expecting having to hike, especially uphill, and first thing in the morning. Buffy headed towards a stone road that was only a short distance away. She found that the road had some patches of ice, which made it very slippery. But as the gentle sprinkle turned to a torrential down pour, any evidence of ice soon melted away. After crossing a stone bridge that traversed a dark blue lake, Buffy was nearing her destination. It seemed as if it took forever, but the cold just made it seem that way.

The road ended at the sheer wall of the mountain. Buffy ran a gloved hand along the surface of the wall looking for some type of door. There was no sign of anything. She actually turned and faced the direction she came from, wondering if she had teleported to the wrong place. “But the road…and bridge,” she mumbled to herself. She turned and faced the door, a look of determination on her face. “Open up!” she yelled as she pounded her fist against the wall.

Only moments later a seam in the wall could be seen as the large doors slowly swung open. A door watchman with reddish hair looked at Buffy curiously and asked, “What is it you want, lass?”

Buffy, who was trembling from the cold, replied, “I am here to see Durin, Lord of Khazad-Dûm.” The dwarf looked her up and down. “I’ve traveled far,” she continued when he didn’t invite her in immediately. “And it’s wet and I’m freezing.”

The dwarf shook his head. “Begging your pardon. Come in out of the rain, then.” Buffy entered and the two massive doors slowly closed. A second dwarf sounded a horn with two short notes and one long. The sound bounced from wall to wall. After a few minutes, a similar series of notes came in reply. “This way then,” said the dwarf as he led Buffy from one chamber to the next. She marveled at the size and splendor of Durin’s Halls. It mirrored Menegroth. They climbed down some stairs and then crossed a deep dark abyss by a bridge that was maybe a foot or so wide.

“Wow!” Buffy exclaimed as they were crossing the bridge. “How deep does that go?”

“Several thousand feet,” came the reply. “This is our first line of defense should our doors be breached. Any intruders would find it most challenging to assault us with full force.”

“That’s absolutely brilliant!” remarked the Slayer. The dwarf blushed at the compliment although Buffy didn’t know it.

They passed many dwarves going to and fro and they looked at Buffy with that same ‘curious’ expression that she had encountered when the elves saw her for the first time. Man had not yet been born, so Buffy was a novelty to these people. After nearly fifteen minutes of walking, she was finally led to Durin’s Grand Chamber, the Seventeenth Hall. A large throne constructed from marble sat upon a dais at the opposite side of the room. A single window far above cast a faint light down upon his high seat. On that throne sat Durin Longbeard, high Lord of all the dwarves. He was dressed in white and wore a thick, gold chain around his neck that reminded Buffy of some rapper back in modern times. His dark beard had flecks of gray and was so long that it nearly touched the stone floor. She couldn’t help but smile as she approached his throne.

His face wore no expression, but his eyes, said much. They looked at her keenly and knowingly and soon a smile came upon his face. He stood in greeting and welcomed Buffy to his Halls. As she attempted to introduce herself, he said, “There is no need Lady. I know who you are. You are Luinil…”

Buffy was flabbergasted that he knew one of her names. “How did you know?” she asked.

The dwarf summoned one of his people to bring her a chair. After Buffy sat, he answered, “Long I have slept, Lady. And whist I was sleeping my father, Mahal, spoke in my ear certain words that I have not forgotten:

Not an elf or mortal fair
Watch for the maiden with golden hair.
Called by many, the Lady Luinil,
Dressed in blue from head to heal.
Aid her willing, in time of need,
And forever shall live Durin’s seed.

“And now, here you are, just as it was prophesized long ago.” His smile broadened. “Dressed in blue from head to heal,” he repeated with a chortle as Buffy pulled off her hat. “I take it that you have come seeking my aid then?” He asked as he clasped his hands together on his lap.

“You guess right again. I’m in need of the skill of your kind, actually. I’ve been told there are no better craftsmen in Middle-earth than the Naugrim. In fact, some of your kin from Belegost built me a magnificent home in Beleriand. So, I’m well aware of your people’s skillfulness and endurance. But…” she glanced around and noticed several dwarves still lingering about. “I don’t know if I should say this in front of everybody…” She paused, waiting for Durin’s reaction. He was studying her carefully. When he made no reply, she continued, “Well, I need help building a fortress.” She was reluctant to say any more.

Without hesitation, Durin agreed even though he had not heard Buffy’s entire request. “I will do as you bid for my heart tells me to. I see that our fates are intertwined, Lady,” he said. “And I heed the words of my father. Eager are the Khazâd especially when it comes to matters of craft. We take pleasure in creating works of wonderment, for we are the sons of Mahal, and he is the greatest craftsman of them all…”

Their conversation lasted for several hours. The more she talked with Durin, the more she came to love him (not implying that Buffy had a ‘thing’ for dwarves). Durin thought that it was best for Buffy to remain in his Halls until after winter passed. She agreed. The dwarves were very friendly and treated her well. They even gave her a dwarvish name, Freya, which meant ‘Lady’ in Khuzdul (the secret language of the dwarves).

When the first signs of spring appeared, Buffy spoke with Durin about departing Khazad-Dûm. “The appointed time has come then,” Durin said. “It grieves me to know that you shall be leaving my Halls so soon. Your tales of conquest bewilder me for I deem that you are small for your race. I know that my people are in good hands and that brings me great comfort. Tonight we shall have a feast of farewell and I give you my leave to depart these Halls in the morning. I will announce which members of my Household shall go with you before long.”

Later that evening, at the feast, Durin named the individuals that would be going with her. When he proclaimed that his eldest son would be accounted as one of them, a feeling of dread came over the Slayer. She stopped him at that point and said, “I don’t think it’s wise for your heir to go with me, Durin.” She had a serious air about her as her eyes locked with the dwarf’s.

He sat there for several minutes as a hushed silence fell over the occupants of the Thirty-Third Hall. “They are not coming back,” he said softly as he stared into Buffy’s eyes. “Those whom I have chosen…they will not return to these Halls again. Am I not right?” There were many gasps of shock and murmuring from the dwarves in attendance. Only a handful sat there silently, listening intently and with resolve. One of them was Durin’s youngest son, Dvalin.

Buffy folded her arms across her chest and leaned back in her chair. The realization of the magnitude of this mission finally dawned on her. She now understood the importance of the dwarves to the survival of this world. And if they did not go with her, willingly, then the consequences would be horrific. This matter had to be settled one way or another. So of course a major debate ensued. The conclusion they reached was that any who wished to volunteer for this mission would go with Buffy. No one would be coerced into this undertaking. But her hope of enlisting one hundred and forty-four dwarves was crushed; only eighty-nine volunteered, including Dvalin. Durin was not pleased by Dvalin’s decision.

When the meeting was over, many dwarves remained in the Thirty-third Hall celebrating the opportunity afforded them. This would truly be a life-changing mission and those who volunteered instinctively knew that (why else would they volunteer?). It was all about destiny. Others left the chamber seeking out their loved ones for a private moment before their departure the following morning. Buffy noticed that Durin left the chamber with his head hung low. She decided that she would follow him.

Durin wandered out of the Halls and made his way towards the lake. It was a beautiful night. The air was fresh and cool and the quarter moon cast dim shadows about the valley. Buffy found Durin with the hood of his cloak pulled over his face and a large mug of ale in his hand. He was sitting atop the ridge overlooking the pool. All was quiet except for the sounds of the falls nearby. Buffy climbed up to the crest and sat down next to Durin on the soft green grass. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I know it’s hard when the little one leaves the nest, but Dvalin will be alright. It’s his destiny, you know.”

“Yes, I know,” he replied after a couple of minutes. “But he is still a young lad and there is much more I would like to teach him.”

“I think Dvalin is a capable young man. You’ve taught him a lot but it’s now time for him realize his true purpose in this world. He can’t do that here.” Buffy glanced at the hooded form of Durin. He took a swig from his mug and belched loudly. “Dvalin’s accomplishments will be amazing and awe-inspiring,” she finally remarked as she stretched her legs out before her. “In fact, his ability for creating extraordinary things will be legendary. None will surpass him, not even you.”

Durin moaned. “I have grown rather fond of you Freya, but now you are taking my youngest son away and insulting me as well.”

“Insulting you?” questioned Buffy. “I did no such thing! I’m merely pointing out that Dvalin will become a legend. Yes, Durin, you will too, but he will achieve more because he is coming with me. There is more in this world than building fine mansions under tall mountains. Or rust free weapons. Those things are great and all, but there’s more to this world than just simple trinkets.” Durin attempted to interrupt Buffy but she wouldn’t let him. “This is a dark world, Durin. And things are only going to get worse in the future, I’m sorry to say.”

“And Dvalin’s purpose, is it to keep evil at bay?” he interjected.

“Sort of,” she answered. “It’s kinda complicated. This fortress is not your every day, run of the mill fortress. It’s a prison. A prison that will house the most vile creatures in Arda. We’re talking something like the Halls of Mandos in Valinor. We’re talking massive. And mystical. Dvalin and everyone involved are gonna have to labor for thousands of years before it’s completed.” Durin turned to her; a look of growing concern on his face. “Building that fortress will be his most important venture. At least, to me.

“So don’t waste your time worrying about him. He will be fine,” she said reassuringly. “It will be Dvalin who keeps your blood-line alive…forever.” Durin’s eyes widened at that remark and he threw the hood of his cloak off his head. “I thought that would get your attention,” she added with a quick smile. “Embrace the world while it has some semblance of peace, because it won’t last long, Durin. The tides have turned and the swells of darkness are coming this way.

“Your people will continue to prosper for quite some time, but unfortunately Arda will evolve faster than dwarves…or elves, for that matter. Your races will diminish and will only be remembered in myths told in tales to children in the End of Days. But Dvalin and those loyal to him…and me will continue to live in peace and tranquility until the breaking of the world.”

“You mean to tell me that Dvalin will…will become immortal…that he will live forever?”

“Yep!” replied Buffy.

“And by whose grace will that be done?” he questioned. Buffy didn’t reply. “You! It is you, is it not?”

Buffy smiled and turned towards the lake. She pressed her index finger to her lips and said, “Shh…”

Durin pulled at his beard and nearly emptied the contents of his mug all over himself. “You…you are one of them, are you not?” he asked in an astonished tone. Buffy looked at him and continued to smile, but she did not say one word. He slapped his knee. “No elf or maiden fair, indeed!” he gleefully remarked. “You are kin to Mahal. I knew it.”

“No one can ever know, Durin. Promise me, that you won’t say a word about this to anyone.”

“You have my word, Freya. I will tell not a living soul including my own sons,” he pledged.

“Good. But I’ll tell you what I’ll do for you, Durin. And this too must be kept a secret. You are the eldest of the children of Aulë and you are surrendering your son to me. So in return I shall give you a gift.” She grabbed the mug out of his hand. Durin had not spilled the entire contents; about one third of the brew still remained. Buffy sat the cup between her legs as she pulled her knife out of her sheath. “I’m gonna make you an offer. It’s up to you to accept it or reject it. The choice is yours. I cannot grant you immortality for it is not your destiny, but I can make it where you can come back…like the elves. You can be reborn into the world after your body withers from old age.”

“You can do that?” he asked in amazement.

“I sure can. But, there will be consequences. There are always consequences when it comes to using magic. Remember that Durin, because most people don’t read the small print at the bottom of the page.” Buffy closed her eyes and sat quietly for several minutes. Durin sat there, watching her anxiously. He couldn’t believe the things she was saying. But if she could truly bring him back, he’d jump at the chance, regardless of the consequences. “Okay Durin,” she finally said breaking the silence. “Six times I shall allow you to be reborn at various times in this world. Most of these rebirths will take place soon after your first death, but the last…the last will be when your house falls to ruin.”

“My house will fall to ruin?” he queried.

She smiled weakly. “At some point in time, everything will fall to ruin…even Valinor. One gains a better perspective on reality when one is subjected to…the unpleasant things that life has in store for them. How else can you appreciate the good if you don’t experience the bad?”

“Is that the consequence?” he asked.

“Yes,” she answered. “I won’t tell you how or when, but yes, that is the consequence. All good things must come to an end. Weigh your decision carefully because once the spell is cast, there is no undoing it.”

Durin faced the lake once again. They sat there quietly for thirty minutes before Durin replied, “Yes, Freya. I willing accept your offer. But tell me, will I ever see Dvalin again?”

“Not for a long while,” she answered. She placed the tip of the knife on her index finger and punctured a small hole in it. She squeezed her finger as she held it over the cup. Six drops of blood fell into the ale causing it to bubble and froth for a few seconds. When that was completed she sucked on her finger healing it instantly. She swirled the contents around six times and then blew on it. It turned pale blue in color. “Drink up, my friend,” she said as she handed it back to him. “Make sure you drink it all and don’t spill it.”

Durin gulped it down. “It tastes sweeter.”

“That’s because I’m sweet,” she said with a smile.

“That you are,” he said. “But come now. I have a gift for you as well. Let us return to my Halls.” They got up and proceeded back to Khazad-Dûm. Durin led Buffy to his private chambers. She had never been in them before and they were decorated quite magnificently. The Slayer took a seat on one of his couches as he disappeared into another room. He returned moments later carrying a large burlap sack. He placed the bag at Buffy’s feet. “This is for Freya,” he said with a smile.

Buffy excitedly opened the bag and found it full of gray and brown feathers. “Oh, feathers,” she remarked. What the hell was she supposed to do with these? Make hundreds of quills? “How nice,” she said after a stunned moment. “Thanks.”

A sparkle was in Durin’s eyes as he let out a hearty laugh. “This is actually a gift from Mahal, dear Lady. They have been stowed away with me for many years. I was instructed to give it to you whenever you came to my Halls. But I, too, have a gift to give you. I am afraid it is not as glorious as the one you have given me, though.” From his cloak pocket he pulled out a crystal sphere and handed it to Buffy. “I made it myself,” he said proudly.

Buffy looked at it closely. It briefly glowed an amber color before returning to its original clear hue. A huge grin came upon her face. “I know what this is,” she said with enthusiasm. “This is an Orb of Thezula.” She looked up at Durin. “That’s your true name, isn’t it? You’re Thezula! And this is a spirit vault…” Durin never answered but put his finger to his lips and went ‘shh.’ She chuckled as she shook her head. “Now I get that whole, ‘it’s a small world after all’ thingy. Thanks Durin. Something tells me this is gonna come in handy.”

The following morning the party departed shortly after dawn. One thing Buffy would soon discover was that she’s not a very good guide! Their journey should have taken maybe ten or eleven months, but with Buffy in the lead, it took them sixteen months. But many strange things happened upon the road they traveled. Soon after they left Azanulbizar she noticed flocks of birds following them. One morning she awoke to find hundreds of birds perched on the limbs of the oak trees that surrounded them. “What’s with all the pigeons?” she had asked Dvalin.
“Those are no pigeons Freya. Those are doves,” he replied.

These doves confounded Buffy. Whenever anyone tried to approach them, they would quickly fly higher into the treetops. Their cooing became annoying and sometimes she thought the birds understood their conversations. For example: Andvari, the dwarf, made some insulting comments about them and when he awoke the following morning, he was covered in bird droppings from head to toe. It was actually quite amusing, although he didn’t think so.

Buffy attempted to communicate with them several weeks into the trip and had great success. She realized that the birds would make great messengers much like the nightingales of Melian. With that in mind, she sent some to her home in Beleriand to bring words of comfort to Mablung. She knew that he and many other elves had been searching for her since her ‘disappearance’ and she wanted him to know that she was okay. She sent word that she was taking care of ‘Slayer’ business and hopefully she would be home soon. Even with all the trials she had been through recently, she still loved him and missed him terribly. She sent others to Luthor. She wanted to inform him about her imminent return and how many dwarves she had with her. It would be his responsibility to have things ready by the time they got there.

Before long, winter arrived again. The dwarves were hardy travelers, but with the onset of a horrible blizzard, they had no other option than to seek refuge out of the weather. They stumbled upon a cave (nothing remotely like Menegroth or Khazad-Dûm!), but a dank and dark place that at least provided them with relief from the howling storm. This caused quite a delay. They remained housed there throughout the winter.

With the arrival of spring they soon started their journey once again. After two months of hiking they came upon a wandering band of dwarves, singing songs of lamentation. Despite the sorrow of their songs, Dvalin and his people were excited about meeting their kindred from the east. These dwarves were led by one called Brokk who told them that they fled their dwellings beneath Orocarni (The Red Mountains) due to an evil presence that was multiplying in magnitude in that region. “Wicked creatures have crept into our peaceful realm and have started destroying all the fine works of our labor. Things of great beauty now lie broken and twisted by their hands.” He stopped as he caught his breath. Everyone saw how painful this was to him. Many of the Khazâd dwarves pulled on their beards in anger and were eager to return to that Orocarni with their kin and make war with the ominous presence that ousted them from their homes.

“No!” exclaimed Buffy. “We already have a mission to do. We can’t turn away from it no matter how grievous Brokk’s account is. It will be dealt with…in time,” she said. She was kind of shocked that she used the words ‘in time’ but they had to get to the site of the fortress, first and foremost. Luthor was waiting and there was lots of work to do. Buffy studied the newcomers carefully and noticed that their numbers amounted to fifty-five. It became obvious to her that they were destined to meet these dwarves who referred to themselves as the Ironfists. If they joined her group then she would have a total of one hundred and forty-four dwarves, the exact amount that the Voice had requested. “Listen,” Buffy finally said. “Why don’t you guys come with us? We’re on our way… home and you guys are more than welcome to tag along. There’s plenty of room and a lot of work that needs to be done.”

Brokk didn’t seem to be interested although some of his companions were. “We do not know where we are going, Brokk,” stated one of the newcomers. “Let us take the Lady up on her offer. Have we not traveled far enough?”

“You guys didn’t just happen to stumble upon us by chance,” Buffy finally said. “This was meant to be. So what do you say?” Brokk relented and the dwarves of Orocarni merged with the dwarves of Khazad-Dûm.

Six months later, they arrived at the secret entrance of the Hidden Halls. There were many tables laden with utensils and crockery overflowing with vegetables, fruit, cheese, bread, jam and butter. But what got everybody’s mouth watering was the large boar roasting over a pit. It was obvious that Luthor expected them and prepared their first decent meal since they departed Durin’s Halls. Luthor was sitting in an elaborately carved wooden chair at the head of one of the tables. The pine trees that had been here prior to Buffy’s leaving were now gone. A number of small saplings had taken their place. Thônel and the other pine trees were nowhere to be seen. “Tell me Luthor,” said an exhausted Buffy, “that you didn’t kill Thônel and the others…”

He got up from his chair and walked towards the group. “Now, now Bellaseth. Is that any way to greet an old man who has been busy making the necessary preparations, as you requested? Thônel had business elsewhere, and she and the other trees left. Another Shepherd passing by planted these saplings. So no, my dear, I have not killed anything…or anyone.” The dwarves were relieved to hear that he didn’t maim or slay anyone in her absence although they looked at him with suspicion for quite some time afterward. Luthor hugged her in greeting, which she found comforting. It had been a long time since she had even the simplest form of bodily contact with anyone. The dwarves are not really an affectionate people. They’re not touchy feely like the elves or Luthor. “I missed you, Bella, I truly did.”

“I missed you too,” answered Buffy. “I haven’t had much sleep since we’ve been traveling, and let me tell you Luthor, I suck as a guide. I wish you were with us.”

“Yes, I suppose you do. But come now, I have worked diligently on preparing this feast. And that is not one of my specialties.” Luthor noticed their dirty faces and hands and slapped his forehead with his hand. “Oh, I have been quite busy and nearly forgot…” He waved his scepter and several cauldrons filled with clean warm water, materialized along with lots of wash cloths. “Clean yourselves up.”

After refreshing themselves, they all took seats at the well-laden tables. Luthor even supplied them with dozens of flagons of delicious wine and several barrels of ale. Buffy sat next to Luthor instead of at the opposite end of the table. There was much she wanted to tell him. Most of their conversation took place with their minds, so the dwarves wouldn’t be able to hear. Not that they really would, as they became more boisterous as they consumed more and more ale.

“Bella,” Luthor’s voice said in her mind, “You are aware that these dwarves cannot get through the barrier, are you not? They are mortal beings. They will burst into flame if it is attempted. One must have The Gift in order to enable them to pass through those gates.”

“I know,” she replied in like manner. She could feel Luthor’s eyes burning through her as she continued to eat.

“And you intend of giving all of them The Gift?” he asked in a slightly annoyed tone.

“Every single one,” she replied, still avoiding eye contact and trying to look ‘normal.’

“And you were going to discuss this with me, when?” The ‘slightly’ in his annoyed tone was rapidly fading away.

“So now I’m expected to discuss everything with you? When did that start?” she asked him, in an irritated voice.

“It is common courtesy if you must know. This is our home. Our being defined as ‘yours and mine’. And while you have been off gallivanting with these…these dwarves, I have been busy making this place more appealing and palatable to your tastes. Therefore I am entitled to have final approval when …strangers are brought to dwell within these halls. I am Lord of this domain, Bellaseth Dagnir; it is best that you get use to hearing it now. I will not cower down to any of the lower races.”

“And what will you do if I tell you to?” she asked firmly as her eyes locked with his.

“As you wish, of course,” he replied in contrast to his earlier tone. He picked up his goblet and drained it.

“Listen, I realize we’re living in a…predominately male dominated world. I get that. Actually, I’m use to it. We’ve got a tough road ahead of us. And if you want some title of Lord of whatever, that’s fine. I have no problem with that. But you knew that I was bringing them back with me. I can only assume that you knew that they would be given the Gift in order to carry out the orders of The Powers.

And furthermore, there are some among these dwarves that possess phenomenal skills that will aid us in times to come. I will grant titles of lordship to them whether you agree or disagree. They will be bound to me, not you…I only hope that you’ll some day appreciate the position I’m in and the choices that I’ve made. I’m only doing as I’m instructed.”

“Very well,” he replied. “I hold no ill will toward you. We shall see what happens.”

“Sounds good to me,” she said aloud. “It’s time,” she said to Luthor. He nodded his head. “You’re Lord of this domain. Do you wish to inform the dwarves of our intentions?”

“Yes, thank you,” he answered as he rose from his seat. He picked up his knife and tapped it against his goblet in order to get the attention of the dwarves. “My good dwarves,” he began in a thickly sweet voice. “I welcome you to our Halls and hope that we may get to know each other much better in the coming days. Since it seems that our little celebration is reaching the end, there are some things of great importance that must be discussed before you retire for the night.

“These halls,” he pointed to the entrance, which was obviously invisible, “cannot be entered by any mortals. One must have the blood of the Ainur coursing through their veins in order to go through the barrier.” The rumblings of the dwarves began to escalate. “There is no need to get riled up! I assume that you are well aware that Bella and I are accounted among them…”

“Her name is Freya,” belted out one drunken dwarf.

“What are you saying?” asked many others.

Buffy informed Luthor that she never disclosed that little bit of information to the dwarves – only Durin. “Well, I suppose, now you know. The only way to get through the barrier is by becoming immortal. This is a Gift that Bella has the ability to grant. But it is up to you to decide whether you wish to receive this Gift or not.”

“What exactly does it entail?” asked Dvalin.

“You must ingest her blood.” That shocked nearly every dwarf. This led to a lengthy discussion about the pros and cons of immortality. Once someone received the blood of an Ainur, they are bound to that Ainur, forever. Meaning if they ‘die,’ their fey will travel back to Buffy instead of going to the Halls of Mandos. Both she and Luthor have the ability to remake their flesh anew. That thought actually appealed to all of them. The gift of immortality had never been bequeathed to any of their race. In the end, they were all in agreement.

Unlike Durin, who received six drops of her blood, these dwarves would have to ingest more. Buffy figured an amount equal to a shot glass would suffice. But it could not be mixed with ale, wine or water. It had to be pure and untainted. None would drink the blood of Luthor. It was Buffy’s Gift to give alone. One hundred and forty-four dwarves were a lot, when one looked at it from this perspective. Nevertheless, Buffy slit her wrist and allowed the blood to seep out into a large silver bowl. She felt weak and woozy as her life force drained into the basin. Once full, it was Luthor who healed her wound. She remained in her chair as Luthor doled out the drink of immortality. When the last dwarf consumed his share, the party ended. It was time for bed.

Luthor helped Buffy into the fortress. As they went through the passageways that led to their living quarters, she was amazed at how much work Luthor did while she was gone. The walls were smooth and they now had doors! If she weren’t so exhausted, she would have asked him how he accomplished all of that in such a short amount of time. Instead, he led her to her chamber where she fell into a deep sleep.

Buffy slept for two days. When she awoke, the dwarves were already busy working on the construction phase of the prison. Buffy’s strength had returned and she was in high spirits. After she had eaten, she was approached by fours dwarves: Dvalin, Dain, Duneyr and Durathor. While they had understood the importance of their assignment, (her blood was now coursing through them), certain things they saw more clearly than before. Dvalin spoke to her about the falcon feathers that she had in her possession and what the dwarves desired to do with them. They joined Buffy in her private chambers and locked themselves inside for several weeks. None entered nor did any of them depart during that time. They were busy crafting two very different mystical items. One of them was done predominately by Buffy, while the dwarves worked on the other.

While they were busy with their new project, dissension and jealousy grew among one of the dwarves from Orocarni. This dwarf called Mîm, began to spread lies among the others about what was really going on in the Lady’s private chamber. His rumors were filled with sexual innuendos about Buffy and the dwarves locked in her rooms. When word reached Brokk, he quickly went to Luthor and told him all he had heard.

Luthor was enraged when he heard what Brokk told him. He summoned Mîm to his chambers at once. The dwarf was terrified to find himself in such a plight. Luthor did not allow him the opportunity to explain himself. Instead he called his words blasphemous and he named him a servant of wickedness. “Get what meager belongings you have and be gone from my house. A mark I have put upon you, dwarf, so that all your kindred will shun you until your dying days. I will see to it that the Lady takes away the Gift she so generously gave to you.” Mîm fell to his knees begging forgiveness. “It is too late for you, dwarf. In the end you shall get your just rewards. Be gone!” With that said several other dwarves dragged Mîm out of the fortress and abandoned him outside the gates. He was given some provisions but these were scant. Luthor watched as he headed west. When he felt that Mîm wasn’t moving quickly enough, he sent blasts of flame from his scepter to hasten his pace. Luthor could foresee that Mîm would continue to spread lies about Buffy to any and all that would listen to him. Unfortunately, his deceitful words would become interwoven into myths concerning her in later years.

It was nearly mid-winter when the doors to Buffy’s chamber finally opened and out came the four dwarves, singing a joyful tune. Instead of Buffy, a beautiful grayish brown falcon swooped through the passageways to the chambers of Luthor. Luthor was momentarily stunned when the falcon changed to Buffy before his eyes. “What do you think?” she asked as she modeled her feather coat proudly. “Pretty cool, huh?”

“I daresay it is,” he replied as he examined it closely. “What a magnificent device you have wrought!”

“And this.” She showed him an amber necklace that the dwarves had made for her. “The dwarves actually made this,” she said. “It actually contains some of my tears. It’s got powers to make people follow me. Should come in handy in times of war…”

“Perhaps, unless it is the enemy who desires to follow you…” Buffy didn’t care. She absolutely loved these magical items that now belonged to her. She was saddened to hear the news about Mîm, but she thought that Luthor handled the situation justly. She only wished there was some way to take away The Gift from him.

After winter, Buffy announced that she would be returning home for a while. She left Luthor in charge but appointed the four dwarves as lords of their hidden halls as well. Dvalin was given a special title of overlord of all the dwarves. Instead of teleporting, Buffy chose to fly back to Beleriand. She wanted to experience the sensation of soaring through the air in this most unusual form. Nothing would brighten her day more than seeing Mablung once again.