Sad Wings of Destiny

Shortly before daybreak the following morning, Miriel heard one of the men whistle, signaling that it was time to resume the trek. Feeling tired from yet another sleepless night, she stomped down the embankment and onto the road. In the distance, she could make out the four shadowy figures lingering on the road, waiting for her. During the night, her paranoia had waned and she had decided to trust her initial instinct to follow the Rangers to Rivendell.

Feeling lethargic, Miriel recalled Elladan�s words from the night before and took a large bite of lembas. She hoped that that would give her the energy boost that she needed. About an hour later, she began to experience some drastic physical anomalies. She had hot flashes where she�d sweat profusely, followed by cold chills that caused her to shake uncontrollably. She suffered from lightheadedness. Her feet felt as if they had been turned into lead blocks, and she constantly found herself stumbling over them.

What�s wrong with me? she thought to herself. It felt as though her symptoms were getting worse with each passing minute.

You�ve been poisoned, said the suspicious voice in her mind. I told you not to trust these Rangers. And those Elves, those Elves are no better. They�re men, Miriel. Why do you seem to overlook that fact? They are all the same. They�ve drugged you, and soon, when you fall into unconsciousness, they will have their way with you. You�re merely a plaything, a device to sate their bodily needs and to help pass the time until the next young maiden comes around. You were foolish to follow them, to trust them. Will you ever learn?

That�s not true, contested the other voice. They�re the D�nedain, your kin. They are not evil! They helped you! They tended to your injuries!

They poisoned you! argued the first voice. They are no better than Valandil and his bunch!

But the sons of Elrond are amongst them! protested the other voice. They are Elves. Noble Elves.

Pfft! Why do you insist on believing that Elves are such noble people, that they are incapable of committing wicked deeds? hissed the first voice. You�ve read about the Elder Days, how the Noldor came to be in Middle-earth. Tell me, Dagnir, what deeds did the Elves commit that led to their banishment from Valinor? Before the other voice could protest, the mistrusting sounding one continued. They murdered their own kin, in cold blood. And now you run to the realm of those people, those murderers, whose sole pleasure is to stir up the wrath of the Dark Lords, then flee by the droves, leaving Man to deal with the repercussions. The Elves are responsible for all ills in this world. Trust them not!

Miriel�s head was spinning as she listened to this internal debate taking place in her mind. She found it frightening, horribly frightening. She wiped the sweat from her brow with a trembling hand, trying to think, to make sense of it all. Was it her youth and inexperience in life that made her overlook the heinous crimes that the Elves themselves had committed in times past? And what was it, exactly, that caused Men and Elves to become sundered from one another? Who betrayed whom?

Stumbling over her foot, Miriel crashed down onto the ground. Panting, she could feel the sweat running into her eyes, burning them. Her vision became hazy. �Buffy,� she whimpered, as all turned to black�



The moment Miriel fell unconscious, Buffy appeared. �It�s happened again,� the girl cried out, tears streaming down her face. She tried to get back on her feet by using Buffy as a crutch. �They�ve drugged me, Buffy. They�ve drugged me and are going to rape me!� Miriel was hysterical. She pulled on the elder Slayer so hard that Buffy was forced to her knees.

�Calm down, Miriel. I�m here,� said the composed elder Slayer, not wanting to jump to conclusions without having time to think and access the situation.

The girl rambled incoherently between sobs. Buffy grabbed hold of Miriel�s shoulders, and could feel her blazing hot skin through her shirt.

�Calm down, Miriel,� she said again. She quickly placed the back of her hand on the girl�s forehead, and then her neck. She was burning with fever. �It�s okay. I�m here. It�s okay.� Buffy tried to do her best to reassure her prot�g�, but to no avail. Miriel continued to blubber, refusing to listen or calm down. �You�re sick, Miriel. You�ve got a fever. Listen to me!� Buffy shook the girl by the shoulders, hoping that might knock Miriel back to her senses. �Listen to me!�

� � I�ve been poisoned!� the girl repeated hysterically. �They�re going to rape me!�

Having no other choice, Buffy slapped Miriel hard across the face. The girl, her eyes wide with shock, stopped her ramblings, and looked at Buffy. �I�m sorry, but you�ve gotta calm down,� demanded the elder Slayer. �Miriel, you�re sick. You�ve got a fever. A high one too.�

�It was the lembas,� the girl croaked, the tears continuing to stream down her face. �The lembas was poisoned.�

�I don�t believe that,� said Buffy, shaking her head. She didn�t know why she felt so sure of that, but she did. Maybe it was her gut instinct. Whatever it was, she didn�t believe that the Rangers were anything like Valandil and his gang of thugs. �Let�s think this through, take things slowly,� continued Buffy, who was thinking rationally. �Okay, you�ve been hurt.� Her eyes immediately went to Miriel�s wrapped hand. �Maybe you have an infection or something.�

�Maybe I was poisoned,� said Miriel between sniffles.

�You weren�t poisoned,� replied Buffy, unwrapping the bandage on Miriel�s hand to see if her wounds were infected.

�How can you be so sure?�

�I just am,� answered the elder Slayer resolutely.



While Buffy inspected Miriel�s injuries in the dreamscape, the Rangers noticed that they had lost sight of the Slayer. They had already rounded a small bend in the road, where they stopped, waiting to see if Miriel would come bounding around the corner in a few minutes.

�She�s been lagging behind this morning,� remarked Aragorn, his face riddled with concern.

�You think so?� queried Halbarad. �I haven�t noticed.�

�It�s true,� chimed in Elrohir. �Dagnir has been slower this morning than yesterday.� He looked at his twin. �How was she when you spoke to her last night?�

�I suppose she was a bit tired, but otherwise, she seemed fine.�

�She probably left the road to relieve herself,� suggested Halbarad.

�Probably,� answered Aragorn. �Though we haven�t been on the road very long. I would�ve expected her to take care of her business before we set out.�

�She�s a woman, Aragorn,� said Elladan with a chortle. �They do as they want, when they want, especially if it keeps us waiting. You should�ve learned that by now.�

The Ranger Chieftain answered with a small smile.

After several minutes, and with no sign of Miriel, Elrohir went back down the road to see what was keeping the girl. Surely, if she had been ambushed, they would�ve heard something. Orcs were not known for stealth, by any means. Whatever the delay, the Slayer should�ve rounded the bend by now.

The rest of the men lingered on the road, waiting for word from Elrohir. Not a minute later, they heard his fair, elvish voice, shouting, �She�s down. Miriel�s down!�

In that moment, Aragorn feared the worst, that Miriel had been killed. The men took off running, heading back in the direction from which they had just come.

Elrohir reached Miriel�s side before the rest of his companions. He fell to his knees, and quickly determined that she was not dead, only out cold. As he pulled the straps of the bags from her shoulders, he could feel the heat emanating from her skin. Fresh blood soaked the back of her shirt. For a moment, he thought that she had been struck by some hidden foe. His eyes swiftly surveyed the road, looking for tracks other than his and his companions.

�Is she alright?�

�Is she dead?�

The others, breathless from their sprint, had arrived on the scene, asking questions.

�She�s alive,� answered Elrohir, pulling her into his arms. �She�s burning up with fever.�

�She has an infection,� announced Elladan. �I can smell it.�

�Pull your blanket out and lay it on the ground,� instructed Elrohir. �There�s fresh blood on her back.�

Elladan hastily did as his brother had asked, spreading out the blanket in the middle of the road. Elrohir placed Miriel on her stomach, thinking that the wound to her back was the culprit.

�I�ll check her hand,� said Elladan, as he unraveled the bandages. �It�s not her hand,� he said after a quick inspection of her knuckles and palm. �It�s nearly healed.�

Elrohir tugged on Miriel�s shirt, lifting the back of it up to her neck. �Oh, no. This is not good,� he said in dismay.

The others grimaced when they noticed the infected wound on her shoulder blade. The incision was partially closed, but the tissue looked inflamed and a bloody fluid leaked from the open parts. Streaks of red radiated from the area. Elrohir pushed down on a swollen part of the skin and a thick, foul-smelling, yellowish-green pus oozed from the incision.

�We need to clean this,� advised Elrohir, the odor nearly taking his breath away.

�It looks like Miriel had been struck by a poisonous blade,� remarked Halbarad, observing the scene over Elladan�s shoulder.

Aragorn leaned in closer. �I think you�re right, Hal,� he replied.

The sons of Elrond, who were trained in the art of healing by their father, quickly went to work. �We�ll need hot water,� said Elrohir. �Get a fire going, Aragorn.�

�I knew we should have tended to this wound yesterday,� added a dismal Elladan, regretting that he hadn�t inspected her injury the night before when he was with Miriel.

The two Half-elves busily tended to the wound, bathing it with hot, clean, herbal water and trying to expel as much as the poison as they could.

Miriel then began to stir, murmuring Buffy�s name repeatedly.

�What�s a Buffy?� Aragorn asked Halbarad, as though he would know the answer.

The Ranger thought for a moment or two. With a shrug of his shoulders, he answered, �Maybe it�s the name of her sword.�

�What a strange name that is,� uttered Aragorn, his brow furrowed in thought. �That name is unknown to me.�

�I have never heard it either,� remarked Elrohir, as he smeared his elvish salve along the incision on the girl�s shoulder. �Perhaps it�s some secret language known only to Slayers.�

�I�ve never heard of such a thing, but I suppose it�s possible,� answered Halbarad. �Most of the Watcher Diaries have been lost. The ones that we still have in our possession do not mention such a thing. We cannot rule it out though.�

Once the wound was covered in a thick layer of ointment, Elladan covered it with a clean strip of cloth. He then pulled Miriel�s top back down. �I think it�s time to wake her.�

�Gird your loins, Aragorn,� teased Halbarad. �She�ll probably come straight for you.� Not wanting to take any chances, the Ranger protectively guarded his privates.

�I�ll take my chances,� replied the Ranger Chieftain. �Wake her, Elladan.�

The Half-elf nodded. With Miriel still on her stomach, he leaned in closer, his lips nearly touching her flaming hot ear. �Wake, Miriel,� he said softly.

Those two little words roused Miriel from her slumber. In a dazed state, she slowly eased up into a sitting position, her eyes unable to focus.

�You�re burning with fever,� Elrohir informed the girl. �You were hit with a poisoned blade, Mir-, eh, Dagnir,� he said, correcting himself.

Seeing that the Slayer was non-combative, Halbarad dropped his hands to his side, no longer cupping his nether regions.

The girl remained woozy, swaying to one side. Elladan caught her, holding her upright.

�You need medicine,� continued Elrohir, as he poured some elvish elixir into a small wooden bowl. �This will help with the fever.� He put the bowl to Miriel�s lips. �Drink it slowly, now. That�s a good girl,� he said, as Miriel obediently downed the contents.

It tasted like fruity syrup. Smacking her lips, she faintly said, �I�m sleepy.�

�Alright. You can sleep,� answered Elladan, slowly laying the Slayer back down on her side.

She then closed her eyes and was out like a light.

Aragorn rose to his feet. �It looks like we�re going to be here a while yet.� His eyes surveyed the road in either direction. �I do not like being out in the open like this.�

�There is naught else where we can go, where we can hide,� replied Elrohir, looking to the east. �Not until we reach the forest, that is.�

�If you feel that uneasy, Aragorn, should we go down into the ravine?� queried Elladan.

The Ranger Chieftain pondered that option for a few minutes. �I think we�ll be alright here,� he finally answered. �Orcs aren�t fond of sunlight. We should be safe until dusk.�

Elladan then got to his feet as well. �Perhaps two of us should stay with Miriel while the other two keep watch. We can sweep the area, making sure the enemy isn�t lurking nearby.�

Aragorn nodded. He liked that idea. He and Elladan took the first watch. The Ranger patrolled the hills to their south, while the Half-elf wandered along the road, both to their west and east, to make sure none were coming their way.

After a few hours, they switched, and Elrohir and Halbarad patrolled while Aragorn and Elladan kept watch over Miriel. The Ranger Chieftain and eldest son of Elrond sat silently, each lost in his own thoughts.

Elladan stared at a sleeping Miriel, amazed that she was a real, honest to goodness Slayer. It had been so long since a Slayer had been in those parts that the Half-elf had come to believe that they were mythological figures, merely existing in old wives tales of Men. As he stared at her sleeping form, he couldn�t help but notice how very young she looked. She was no more than a child in the eyes of the Elves. Pity filled his heart. How cruel it seemed for one so young to be burdened with such a fate. He couldn�t help but wonder why the Valar had decided to bestow such gifts upon a young, mortal girl as opposed to a stout-hearted man of elven kind, or even one from the race of Man. It seemed unjust. He hoped that when he returned home, he could learn more of the Slayer lore from his father, for Elrond was knowledgeable about all things pertaining to Middle-earth and beyond.

A while later, the Half-elf reached out and grasped Miriel�s forearm, checking on her temperature. �She feels cooler.� Elladan shifted his gaze to Aragorn. �Her fever is breaking.�

The Ranger Chieftain didn�t answer. He still appeared to be preoccupied with his thoughts.

�Aragorn?� The Half-elf nudged his friend. �Aragorn?�

�Huh?� answered the Ranger, shaking himself out of his reverie, and fixing his eyes on the Elf. �Did you say something?�

Elladan cocked his head, scrutinizing the man. �Are you alright? You look troubled?�

Sighing heavily, he replied, �I�m fine.�

�You do not look fine,� said Elladan. �What troubles you?�

�It�s nothing,� answered Aragorn dismissively.

�I�ve known you since you were a small child, Estel. I can see when something is troubling you. Now, tell me, what is it?�

He forced a smile. �I should�ve known I could not hide anything from you, my friend.� The smile quickly left his face, as he turned his gaze to a sleeping Miriel. �I am troubled, deeply troubled.�

�About what?�

�About her,� he replied, motioning toward the Slayer with his head. �I have been thinking about her since we left Amon S�l.�

�How so?�

The Ranger Chieftain paused, collecting his thoughts. �I cannot help but think that Miriel could help me ascend to the throne of Gondor. Denethor is... stubborn, hard-headed. He will not easily relinquish his lordship.� He shifted his gaze to the Elf. �What if I brought back his missing daughter? What if we took Miriel back to Minas Tirith? I think he would be so grateful that it would make it that much easier for him to accept that I�m the heir of - � Aragorn�s words were cut off, and replaced with a yelp.

Unbeknownst to the two men, Miriel had awakened, but was pretending to be sleeping and had heard this conversation taking place. In one swift motion, she lunged at the Ranger, sending him to the ground with one of her hands tightly wrapped around his throat while the other fumbled for her dagger. Everything happened so fast that Aragorn and Elladan were slow to react.

�I�m not going back,� she snarled like some rabid beast. �I�ll kill you. I swear! I�ll kill you!�

�Miriel! Stop!� shouted Elladan, trying to wrestle her hand free from Aragorn�s throat.

Aragorn�s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. His hands automatically went to Miriel�s wrist, trying to pry her hand off his neck. Her hand was like a vice, unmovable.

�Let go of him, Miriel!� yelled the Half-elf, now having to contend with her other hand, which clutched the dagger.

�I�ll kill you, you bastard. You�ve deceived me! You�ve lied to me!� she bellowed, squeezing harder.

Cursing, Elladan had no other choice but to put the Slayer in a choke hold. He kept his hold on her arm that wielded the dagger while he wrapped his free arm around her neck, pulling her backward as he did so. Miriel had no other choice but to let go of Aragorn. He gasped for air, as she and the Half-elf wrestled for control of the knife.

�Help me!� screeched Elladan, clutching the girl tightly, while rolling around on the ground.

Aragorn had not yet caught his breath and could do nothing. But Elladan�s cries for help were answered by his twin and Halbarad, both of whom came running to the scene, stunned by what was taking place.

�What the hell�s going on?� queried Halbarad, his eyes darting from the Half-elf and Slayer rolling about to Aragorn, who was coughing and clutching his throat.

Elrohir immediately joined the skirmish, and disarmed Miriel.

�Let go of me!� she croaked, her voice muffled by Elladan�s hold.

�Only if you calm down,� ordered the Half-elf.

Miriel played along, and stopped struggling. The Half-elf then let her go.

Immediately, Miriel sprung unsteadily to her feet. Now in a fighting stance, she wielded her broken blade in one hand, while the other rubbed her throat. Her face was red and sweaty, as she waved her sword threateningly. �Stay away from me!� she panted, her voice hoarse.

�Calm down, Miriel,� said Elladan, pushing the long streaks of dark hair from his face. �We�re not going to hurt you. I promise.�

�You choked me!� she screeched at the eldest son of Elrond, angered at the audacity of his words.

�You were trying to kill Aragorn,� the Half-elf said defensively.

�You�re damn right I tried to kill him,� she said, shaking with rage. Her eyes darted to Aragorn, who remained seated on the ground, still trying to catch his breath. �You lied to me,� she hissed. �You said we were going to Rivendell. And it was all a lie. I�m never going back to Minas Tirith. And I�ll gut anybody that tries that shit again.�

Elrohir and Halbarad were quite confused by what was going on. They hoped that someone would bring them up to speed regarding the situation and what Miriel was talking about.

�We are going to Rivendell,� insisted Elladan. �No one is deceiving you.�

�You people � stay away from me!� she spat, shifting the direction of the blade from man to man. She inched closer to her bags, eager to get her things and be on her way. There was no way she�d trust these people. Not after hearing what Aragorn�s true intentions were. �One false move and I�ll kill the lot of you!�

�Calm down, Miriel.�

�Shut it, Elf!� she shouted to Elladan. �You just keep away from me!�

�What the hell is going on?� demanded Halbarad, hating the fact that he had no idea what had happened.

�It�s my fault,� said Aragorn with a cough, staggering to his feet.

Miriel used her foot to sweep up her bags by the straps, never letting her mistrustful eyes stray from the four men.

�Your fault?� questioned a bewildered Halbarad. �What are you talking about? What happened?�

Now on his feet, Aragorn tried to explain. �I foolishly shared my thoughts with Elladan, about taking Miriel back to Minas Tirith.�

�I�m not going back - you hear!� she roared, not caring the slightest that she had confirmed her true identity. �I�ll kill you. I swear.� That was most definitely a promise Miriel would keep.

�It was wrong of me,� continued Aragorn, his tone full of remorse. �I apologize, Miriel. I do not know what I was thinking.�

Pulling the straps of her bags over her shoulders, Miriel kept her eyes fixed on the Ranger Chieftain. �Oh, I do. Your own self-interests, that�s what! I�m not your bargaining chip to reclaim anything with. You can go to hell, Ranger. If you cross my path, again - I will kill you. That�s not a threat, but a promise.� She then turned her livid eyes to Elladan. �Shall we fight for the dagger or will you surrender it willingly?� she said scathingly.

The Half-elf hesitated. Miriel lifted her blade. �Here! Take it!� he said, offering her the handle.

�Drop it! And kick it over here,� she demanded, refusing to get within arm�s reach of the Elf.

�Please, Miriel. You�re sick. You�ve been poisoned,� Elrohir tried to explain.

�Undoubtedly by you people. How foolish I was to trust an Elf. Live and learn, they say,� she added with a derisive snicker.

Elladan had kicked the dagger over to the Slayer, and she cautiously bent down to pick it up, her eyes never leaving the men.

�This is all a big misunderstanding,� Aragorn said, desperate to convince Miriel not to leave. �I should have never thought such a thing, Miriel. I am merely a man. I am not perfect. I make mistakes.�

�So, your mistake was telling the truth?� she cackled in response. �Now, I have a better understanding as to why the Northern Kingdom failed. With people like you in charge - it�s a wonder it lasted as long as it did.� Keeping an eye on the men, she started to back away, ignoring their pleas for her to stay. Since they had been leading her east, she decided to go back to the west. From there, she�d have to figure things out.

�Miriel! Please do not go!� begged Halbarad, taking a few steps toward her.

The girl kept her blade at the ready, prepared to gut any that came too close. �Go find yourselves another plaything.�

�I�m your Watcher,� revealed Halbarad. �You need me.�

Somehow the Slayer wasn�t shocked by that revelation. She merely replied with, �I don�t need a Watcher.� When Miriel had put a considerable distance between herself and her betrayers, she turned, and ran as fast as she could in the opposite direction.

With Miriel becoming smaller in the distance, Elladan hurriedly told his brother and the Watcher what had happened.

�What were you thinking, Aragorn?� chastised Elrohir. �How could you say such a thing in her presence?�

�I thought she was asleep,� he admitted, his shoulders slumped in disappointment.

�Asleep or not, that was folly!� the Half-elf continued. �How will she trust us now?�

�Dagnir cannot be left in the wilds like this,� chimed in Halbarad. �She�s ill. She will die if we leave her to fend for herself. Who knows how long before the Orcs return!�

�We�re well aware of that, Hal,� replied Elladan, trying to come up with a way to fix this situation.

�I�m sorry,� said a defeated Aragorn again, wishing that he could go back in time and prevent this whole ordeal from happening.

�The damage is done. There is no changing it,� added Elrohir with a sigh. �We have to come up with some way to convince Miriel that we have not deceived her.�

�How?� asked Aragorn. Both his eyes and voice revealed his anguish.

�I think it�s best if you and Hal go on to Imladris,� suggested Elladan to the Ranger Chieftain.

�What?� said an incredulous Halbarad. �You want us to go? But I�m supposed to be that girl�s Watcher.�

�At this point, you have no Slayer,� replied the eldest son of Elrond. �What little trust we�ve earned is gone.�

�I�m sorry,� mumbled Aragorn again.

�Apologizing will not help the situation,� commented Elrohir.

�I think it�s best if Elrohir and myself try to convince Miriel to come back. I do not think she will come if you two are present. Some ill deed caused that girl to flee Minas Tirith, though, exactly what that was, I do not know. She mistrusts men, in particular, it seems.�

�But she no longer trusts Elves either!� exclaimed an irritated Halbarad. �She said it was foolish to trust them. What makes you so sure that she�ll believe anything you have to say?�

�I�m not sure of anything. We may not be able to convince her to come back with us,� answered Elladan. �But we must try nevertheless.�

�I trust your judgment,� said Aragorn in agreement.

�Tell Father the reason for our delay. Should we talk Miriel into coming back, Father�s counsel would be most helpful. Hopefully, we�ll only be a day or two behind you.�

The Ranger Chieftain nodded. As the twin sons of Elrond gathered their things, Aragorn and Halbarad worked on putting out the fire before resuming their journey to Rivendell. The Elves did not want Miriel to see them following her and began their trek at a snail�s pace...



The Slayer ran and ran until the cramps in her side forced her to slow down. She glanced over her shoulder, relieved to see that none were following. Hot, tired and breathless, she decided to stop for a few minutes. The intense heat from the sun had left her quite thirsty. Sitting on the slope of the hill to her south, she guzzled some water, thinking that she just might return to Weathertop.

Deciding to rest for a short period, Miriel pulled the straps from her shoulders. As she plopped her bags on the ground, the packet of lembas fell out. Though hungry, there was no way on Eru�s green earth that she was about to eat any more of the poisoned food of the Elves. She stomped the package with her foot, grinding it into the dirt.

As she sat there, waiting for her heart rate and breathing to normalize, she felt a sudden coldness sweep over her. She shuddered. Goosebumps popped up all over her flesh. She began to shiver, her teeth chattering. The Slayer reached down for one of her bags, digging through the contents for her cloak. She draped the garment around her shoulders, attempting to ward off the chill, despite the fact that it was a hot and humid afternoon.

Leaning against the slope, her injured shoulder throbbing as she did so, she buried her face in her hands and began to weep. Miriel wasn�t sure why she was crying. Perhaps it was because her perception of her northern kinsmen and the Elves had been shattered. For so long she had believed they were good and decent, of upstanding character. But now, she could see that that had been an illusion, an illusion conjured by the sages of old. No wonder the ancient scrolls had been covered in thick layers of dust!

�Pull yourself together, Miriel,� she said aloud, drying her eyes. The Slayer felt drained, emotionally and physically. Regardless, she got back on her feet, grabbed her belongings, and set out once again. It seemed that fear and doubt had given her that energy boost she had needed to escape the Rangers and sons of Elrond. But now, she found that it took every ounce of effort to put one foot in front of the other.

Before long, the chills dissipated, and Miriel began to sweat. She forced herself to sluggishly move on, though her pace had slowed considerably. She was anxious for nightfall, despite the increased chances of an enemy attack. If threatened, her body would react accordingly, sick or not. She was still alive, and that�s all that mattered.

After hours of walking and with the arrival of dusk (finally!), Miriel trudged off the road, and down into a nearby ravine. She had no idea that the sons of Elrond had been stealthily following her. Exhausted and famished, Miriel consumed lots of water, in hope of sating her appetite. Feeling overheated, she splashed a little water on her face in an attempt to cool off. The Slayer�s eyelids felt heavy, and she struggled to keep them open. She leaned against the wall of the hollow that faced the road, since any attack would most likely come from that direction.

I just want to close my eyes for a minute, she thought. Her eyes felt soothed the moment she closed them. She started to nod off, but caught herself, and forced herself to stay awake. A sudden, gentle breeze began to blow out of the north, rustling the clusters of wild grass that dotted the ridge of the ravine. That unexpected noise caused Miriel to jump with a start and pull her dagger from its sheath. After listening intently for several long seconds, she began to relax again. She eased back into a more comfortable position, pulled her cloak around her concealing her weapon, and closed her eyes one more time. When her heart rate had returned to normal, Miriel dozed off...



�You were wrong about those men,� she snidely said to Buffy the moment she encountered her in the dreamscape.

�I can�t believe I was wrong,� replied Buffy in disbelief. �I didn�t pick up any evil vibe from them.�

�Or perhaps you�re not as perceptive as you thought,� commented Miriel, glowering at her mentor.

�Why the hell are you getting pissy with me?�

�You told me to trust them.�

�I never said that!� shot back Buffy angrily. �I told you they didn�t poison you.�

�Well, they did! So, you got that wrong too.�

Buffy was getting tired of being Miriel�s punching bag - verbally and physically. She had been letting things slide since Miriel�s ordeal, but her patience was wearing thin. Here she was, trying to help the girl, and now it almost sounded as if her prot�g� was accusing her of being an accomplice of the Rangers.

�One Mississippi... Two Mississippi... Three Mississippi,� Buffy began, trying to keep her composure.

�Some help you�ve been,� Miriel continued with a roll of her eyes.

�For your information, it was your crappy decisions that lead you to disaster!� exclaimed Buffy in annoyance. She folded her arms across her chest, staring the girl down. �And they didn�t poison you. You have an infection. You�re sick. But, of course, you have to jump to your own conclusions, thinking the worst of everyone.�

Miriel stepped closer to Buffy, towering over her mentor. �It�s called surviving,� she snapped back. �Not everyone has the luxury of a Watcher and friends to help them along - like you. If not for them - you would�ve been dead long ago. Some of us have to rely on our own wits!�

�Yeah, and how�s that been working out for you?� asked the elder Slayer, her tone thick with sarcasm. Buffy dropped her hands to her side, balling her fists.

�My mistake has been in heeding your advice. That�s been my folly!� Miriel looked her mentor up and down, noticing her balled fists. �You�re not worth the energy.� She then turned on her heel and marched away from the elder Slayer, no longer in the mood to hear any more of Buffy�s smart-ass comments.

As Miriel stomped away, Buffy tried to come up with some snarky comeback. �Yeah,� she began. �Well, who the hell says stuff like... like �heed� and �folly� any way? It�s the twentieth century, you know. Get with the program.�

Miriel answered with the finger gesture that she had seen during her trip to the mall in Sunnydale. Minutes later, she left the ravine, leaving the elder Slayer behind.

�Twentieth century,� grumbled a peeved Buffy. �What the hell was I thinking?� She was not happy with her comeback. �Stupid.� She plopped down on the ground, wanting to give Miriel time to cool off.

The young Slayer was still steaming. It just seemed that she could trust no one, not even Buffy. Miriel was aware of her mentor�s predicament outside the dreamscape, the situation with her sister. She couldn�t help but wonder why she was taking advice from one who�d rather hide in the dreamscape than confront her own demons. And Buffy had the nerve to talk about Miriel?! As far as Miriel was concerned, she was on her own, in every aspect of the word.

Once she reached the top of the ridge, the landscape instantly changed, and the girl found herself on the coast of Dol Amroth. She trudged along the shoreline, finding the salty sea breeze comforting. She had come here in hopes of clearing her mind, and stifling her anger. And right now that was something she desperately needed.

After a while, she took a seat on the sand, staring out at the sea, and the waves, glimmering in the moonlight. The ocean had the desired effect she had been looking for, and her nerves were no longer as frazzled as they had been. Miriel half-expected to see Buffy popping up at any minute, but so far, she saw no sign of her.

Closing her eyes, she drank in the salt air, which relaxed her even more. Miriel was well aware that she had fallen asleep, but, at that moment, she needed to be here if she were to keep her sanity intact.

Then, from out of nowhere, a hand clamped over her mouth, jolting Miriel awake. Before she had a chance to do anything, she heard, in a barely audible voice, one of the sons of Elrond say, �Shh. Do not make a sound. Yrch.�

Her wide terror-filled eyes searched the dimness for the intruders, which she could not see. However, from her position at the bottom of the ravine, she heard the unmistakable sound of marching feet upon the road. Her heart raced, pumping blood and adrenaline rapidly through her body. Her heartbeat sounded so loud that she feared being detected. She tightened her sweaty palm on the grip of her dagger.

When Elrohir determined that Miriel wasn�t going to fight him, he slowly backed off, removing his hand from her mouth. He quickly pressed his finger to his lips, indicating that she remain quiet. Miriel could see that the Elf looked worried. She glanced around, looking for his twin, assuming that the brothers most likely traveled together. But, if he was anywhere nearby, the girl couldn�t see him.

Soon, the sound of marching feet grew fainter, and the threat of being discovered passed.

A look of relief came to Elrohir�s face. �That was a close one,� he sighed in a low voice, still being extremely quiet.

The Slayer was still trying to process all this. She couldn�t help but wonder if the Orcs would�ve discovered her if the Elf had not been there. Though Miriel could curse herself for having fallen asleep, sleep was a necessity in life, much like food and water. She could only fight it for so long. The whole experience left her conflicted and nauseous.

�Are you alright?� Elrohir then asked, his eyes swiftly looking her over.

Miriel was at a loss for words and could only nod in reply.

Not a second later, the other twin silently sprang into the hollow with his bow in hand. �They�ve gone on,� Elladan said, speaking softly like his brother.

�I take it they did not see our tracks?� whispered the Elf seated by Miriel.

�Thank the Valar I was able to wipe them away before they came.� He looked back toward the top of the ridge. �By the sounds of it, they�re heading to Amon S�l.� Elladan shifted his eyes back to Miriel. �Looking for you undoubtedly.�

�Listen, Miriel, you�re being hunted,� said the seated Elf, his tone full of the same urgency he had spoken in when she first woke. �You cannot fight them alone. You need us. We want to help you. Please let us.�

Finding her voice, the Slayer answered, �I don�t trust Aragorn.�

�I understand that,� he replied. �If I were in your position, I wouldn�t either.�

Miriel was quite surprised to hear the Elf say that.

�But, Aragorn is a good man. He merely misspoke,� Elrohir said in defense of the Ranger Chieftain.

�Misspoke?� she repeated, her tone riddled in disbelief and disdain. �How can you say that he merely misspoke? He wants to take me back to Minas Tirith. I won�t go, I tell you. I will never go back.�

�He will not take you back, if you do not want to go. I promise. I promise on the stars of Elbereth that he will not do that,� vowed the Elf.

His twin then crouched down beside them. �You do not know Aragorn like we do. He shared his thoughts, is all. He had no intention on seeing it through. Sometimes, we say what we think, but do not act upon it. As Elrohir had said, we will not let anyone take you back home, if that is your wont. We want to help you. You cannot do this alone, Miriel. The enemy grows stronger, their numbers greater. All it takes is one second, one split second... and it�s all over.�

�Come with us to Rivendell,� encouraged Elrohir. �You will be safe there. Our borders are well protected. There we can prepare you, train you. The mightiest warriors in Middle-earth reside there. Take advantage of this opportunity to learn from them, from us.�

Miriel was hesitant. A part of her desperately wanted to believe them, to believe that these Elves were of the kind that she had read about - noble, true, trustworthy. But after all she had been through - trust had to be earned, not granted at first meeting. What if she was being duped, again?

�Let us be on our way whilst the enemy heads west,� said Elrohir, getting to his feet. He offered the girl his hand. �Come, Miriel, and we will explain all to you on our journey. We still have several days of traveling ahead of us.�

Trust your gut, Miriel, the girl thought to herself. She took the Elf�s hand, and he heaved her to her feet. The Slayer hoped she wasn�t making a mistake. If worse came to worse, she could take on two Elves. �Where are the others? That Aragorn and that man that claims to be a Watcher?� she asked skeptically.

�They have resumed their trek to Rivendell,� replied Elladan. �They are a day or two ahead of us.�

�How do I know they�re not hiding somewhere,� she remarked suspiciously, her eyes searching the immediate vicinity, �waiting to attack me?�

�If we wanted you dead, we would�ve killed you already. We�ve had ample opportunity to do so,� answered Elrohir. �That is not our desire.�

Elladan began to pick up Miriel�s belongings from the ground. �Do you think our meeting was by mere chance?� he asked, dividing her belongings between him and his brother. Not allowing her time to answer, he continued, �It was fated to be. By the grace of the Valar, we were meant to find you, to protect you.�

Miriel then revealed the dagger concealed beneath her cloak. �Just so you know,� she started, brandishing the weapon threateningly, �if you try anything - I�ll kill you. Both of you.�

The twins chortled softly. �Now that we�ve got the pleasantries out of the way - we need to get a move on,� said Elladan, the urgency returning to his voice.

�You and Miriel stick to the valleys,� suggested Elrohir. �I�ll walk along the top of the ridge so I can keep an eye out for the enemy. Its best that we avoid the road until daybreak.�

�Good idea,� replied Elladan, nodding his head approvingly. �The more leagues we put between us and the Orcs, the better.�

Elrohir then seamlessly scaled the wall of the ravine, disappearing in a blink of an eye.

�Let�s go, Miriel. We have far to travel.�

Relieved of her bags, but with her weapons at hand, Miriel and Elladan began the long trek to Rivendell. Whilst they walked, the Elf discussed Aragorn, as promised.

�I do not think you know who Aragorn truly is,� he began, walking beside her.

�He�s an asshole,� she retorted with disdain.

The Elf chuckled softly. �I can see why you would think that. But he�s not really that bad. It�s unfortunate that your first impression of him was... not for the good.� He paused for a moment. �He�s the heir of Isildur, you know,� he added offhandedly, glancing at Miriel as he spoke.

That remark caught her by surprise. Yet, then again, that explained a lot. �I guess that�s why he�s so self-involved. He�s very much like his forebear! Thinks only of his own self interests to the detriment of others,� she added with a derisive snicker.

�He�s not that way at all,� contested Elladan. �Aragorn is a very giving person.�

�Pfft,� sounded Miriel, rolling her eyes.

�He has played a critical role in protecting the free people in the north!� the Elf continued. �He�s devoted his whole adult life to combating evil in this world. He has even fought in the defense of Gondor, years ago.�

Miriel looked at the Elf, thinking that she had caught him in a lie. �Aragorn has never fought for Gondor!�

�Oh, yes he has. In fact, he fought when your grandfather Ecthelion II was Steward. He was responsible for the defeat of the Corsairs in Umbar.� He smiled slyly.

�That�s preposterous!� Miriel just couldn�t overlook the fact that Elladan was trying to deceive her. Of course, she was familiar with all battles in Gondor. For Eru�s sake, she was the Steward�s daughter. It was demanded of her to know about such things!

�Does the name Thorongil ring a bell with you?� he queried, his grey elvish eyes twinkling with amusement.

The Slayer stopped in her tracks. Oh, she had most definitely heard of Thorongil. She had heard of him during her studies. Thorongil was loathed by her father, and had been adored by her grandfather. Many old timers spoke of him in reverence, but none had dare done so in Denethor�s presence.

�Aragorn is Thorongil?� she said in disbelief. She found it hard to believe that the man she had met was the reputable warrior she had heard about. It seemed impossible, to say the least.

�They�re one and the same,� said a beaming Elladan, enjoying Miriel�s reaction.

Miriel fell quiet, resuming the trek again. If Aragorn was really Thorongil then he was most certainly a mighty warrior. It was said that he was responsible for defeating an entire fleet of Corsair ships. An entire fleet! That was an impressive feat no matter how you looked at it. She thought back over her lessons, trying to remember what she knew about that battle, and about Thorongil. From what she could recall, the warrior had arrived when Gondor�s need was greatest, conquered the enemy, and disappeared back into the wilds. She seemed to recall that her grandfather had looked upon that stranger so fondly that he wanted to appoint him one of Gondor�s Captains, a rarity for one who was not Gondorian by birth. Miriel thought this was one of those times when she wished she had paid a bit more attention to her studies.

�You know that I speak the truth,� remarked Elladan, watching her with a keen eye.

�How am I to know if what you say is true or not? Where is the proof of this so-called claim?�

The Elf pondered her questions for a few moments and then answered, �The name Thorongil was actually given to Aragorn by your people because he had borne the Star of the Rangers. They knew he was a kinsman from the North though they were unaware of his actual lineage, that he was indeed a descendant of Elendil.�

�So that�s Aragorn�s goal, to strip the lordship of Gondor from the Stewards and take it for himself.�

�You say that as if it�s a bad thing,� replied Elladan. �Surely, you�re familiar with the lore of your land, that it has been said that the King will one day return.�

Miriel shrugged off his comments. �I suppose.�

�You do not seem enthusiastic about it,� he observed. �How great it would be for the King to return! How could you not think so?� the Elf asked, somewhat baffled by her attitude.

�Probably because I�ve met him! I told you - I don�t trust Aragorn, nor do I like him.� She shifted her gaze to the Elf. �Whilst it wouldn�t break my heart to see Denethor ousted from his seat of power, it grieves me that Boromir will not get his turn. I think he would make a great Steward.�

�And why would you think Aragorn would do away with the Stewards?� queried Elladan. �The Kings have had their Stewards for many centuries.�

�It�s all about the power,� she answered. �Mark my words: If Aragorn becomes King, he�ll do away with the Stewards. He�ll see them as a threat.�

�Now that�s what I call preposterous!� said an adamant Elladan. �You and Aragorn have started off on the wrong foot. That�ll change, once you get to know him.�

�I don�t want to know him! As far as I�m concerned, I hope I never see him again.� She turned, glaring at the Elf. �You seem to forget that he tried to kill me.�

�He did not try to kill you!� contested Elladan. �It was you that tried to kill him.�

�Apparently your memory isn�t that good. I was defending myself. He attacked me!�

�No, no. That�s what not happened at all. It�s you who�s remembering the events wrong.�

Miriel and Elladan bickered back and forth over the first meeting between the Slayer and the Rangers, each having a different take on it. If anything, their arguing proved that she was at ease with the Elf, and hopefully, given some time, the same would apply to the son of Arathorn...