Full Circle

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: TABULA RASA



The train arrived in Ossir the following afternoon. They continued on until they reached the former home of Denethor. For the moment, it would be what Buffy called ‘home,’ that is until she found a more suitable location for building yet another magnificent home.

The dwarves were unwilling to climb up the long ladders to the city in the treetops even though Buffy assured them that it was safe. They remained adamant and refused to budge. She had no idea that the dwarves had such a fear of heights.

“We dwarves love the earth,” said Drór as he stamped his foot on the ground. “Our passion is delving deep into the heart of the world, no desire do we have to be above it!” The Naugrim found the elves desire to live in the trees absurd and strange. They even refused Nestor’s offer to take the lift.

It was then decided that the elves would erect large tents for the Naugrim beneath their above ground city. Orchal saw to it that they were provided with all the comforts of home. Furniture, rugs, beds, etc. were transported via the lift. The elves of Ossir already had established a wonderful relationship with the dwarves of Belegost. The green elves bartered food for knives and other objects wrought from metal with the children of Aulë. They had this mutual ‘agreement’ in place for many years now.

A great feast was held later that evening on the ground by the river Gelion at Buffy’s request. This way the dwarves would be able to attend too. The Slayer found it rather odd that Denethor’s empty seat was placed at one of the tables. It remained vacant throughout the entire meal.

When the stars popped out in the night sky, the elves began singing songs of friendship and love. Buffy, who was already weary from the trip, quietly slipped away and returned to her chamber. She longed for a hot bath and a warm bed to sleep in, but right now, she’d settle just for the bed. Whenever she traveled outside Girdle, the Slayer found that she couldn’t sleep. She attributed this to Morgoth’s emissaries who still roamed freely in the wild. It was of the utmost importance that she stay alert when traveling abroad.

One thing that Buffy had noticed since her return to Ossir was that she could feel Ulmo’s essence everywhere. She never really noticed it before and assumed that it had to do with her recent ‘enlightenment’ of who she truly was. The Slayer hoped that she would soon come face to face with the Lord of Waters. She had to admit, she was slightly jealous of Orchal and Nestor, who both spoke with that Vala on numerous occasions.

Once inside her bedchamber, Buffy decided not bother with a bath despite the fact that it had been nearly two weeks since she had last bathed. It took all of her effort just to wash her teeth. She changed into a clean nightgown before crawling into bed. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she was out like a light.

“Wake up. Bella. Wake up,” she heard in her ear. Then the shaking started. “Come on, Bella. Wake up. The sun is already out this morning.”

“Go away!” she protested as she felt the warmth of a ray of sunlight on her face.

“Your bath is being prepared,” informed Nestor. “I have not forgotten how much you enjoy them,” he added in jovial voice.

“Nestor, I’m tired. I haven’t slept in nearly two weeks,” argued the Slayer. “Go away!”

The covers were then abruptly pulled off her. “Come now woman! It’s time to rise!” he mockingly scolded. “Let’s get a move on.”

A yawning Buffy sat up, wiping the sleep out of her eyes. “Next time I’ll remember to lock the door,” she mumbled to herself.

Nestor was standing to her right while several other elves busied themselves by filling the tub with hot water. “I hope that you slept well,” he said with a smile.

“Yeah, I only wish I still was!” she countered crankily. “What time is it any way?”

“It is half past eight,” he replied.

“Damn, Nestor. Why did you wake me up so early?” she asked with a yawn as she stretched her tired and stiff limbs.

“You no longer live in Doriath, so say goodbye to that life of ease that you’ve become accustomed to,” he said sarcastically. “For today is the first day of the rest of your life.” He smiled. “Besides, we’re holding a council this morning and you, my Lady, must be in attendance.”

Buffy grumbled under her breath as she climbed out of bed. “First day of the rest of my life, bah humbug!” she murmured as she began to sniff various bath oils. “You could’ve at least let me start this new life of mine later this afternoon.”

“Let’s have none of that,” he countered. “I daresay you will feel better once you are refreshed. How about some tea?”

“That would be great, Nestor. Thanks.”

Shortly thereafter, all the elves left her chamber. Buffy disrobed and slowly submerged herself into the steamy water. It felt so good and so relaxing. It was much better than the ‘sponge’ baths that she had to endure while on the road.

Buffy had luckily just finished dressing when Nestor returned with Orchal and Úrion. I have to remember to use the damn locks in this place, she thought to herself.

“I have brought your tea, Bella,” announced Nestor as he placed the tray on a table in the sitting area.

Buffy thanked him as she continued to towel dry her hair. “So what time is this council supposed to take place?” she asked.

“Not until eleven,” replied Orchal as he poured each of them a cup of tea.

“Eleven? And you go waking me up at eight thirty. Shame on you Nestor,” she chided as she plopped down on one of the couches, combing her hair.

It was only a few minutes later when four elves came in carrying breakfast trays. “I thought it would be nice if we ate in your chambers,” said Orchal. “Since nearly everyone has already partaken in the first meal of the day.”

Buffy didn’t mind at all. She was ravenous and the green elves were by far the best cooks in Middle-earth. It was clear to see why the dwarves bartered with them.

A series of bells rang at the appointed hour of the meeting and the small group left the Slayer’s chamber for the Hall of the Lord. Buffy’s attempts at inquiring about the purpose of this council went unanswered by her friends. Something was definitely going on. Her suspicions were confirmed when they wandered upon Drór and the other dwarves walking down the corridor that led to the Hall.

“Do my eyes deceive me?” she laughed as she mockingly rubbed her eyes. “I thought you guys were afraid of heights.”

“For you, Lady, we have made an exception… and it is only for the council! As soon as it is over, we will flee this city in the treetops,” replied the dwarf nervously.

The Slayer chuckled at his comment and the fact that the dwarves were walking so cautiously through this well-constructed house. With each step, they tested the sturdiness of the floor before taking the next one. It was quite amusing.

“You and your kin have brave hearts Drór and I’ve gotta say I’m flattered by your devotion to me,” she replied as they neared the double doors to the chamber.

When she entered, she immediately noticed the throng of people that packed the room to capacity. Never before had she seen it like this. Not even when Denethor died. The long benches and lovely carved wooden chairs were nowhere to be seen; this was a standing room only kind of crowd.

Before Buffy could take in any more, she noticed a sparkle in the elves’ eyes and the wide smiles on their faces. She grabbed Orchal by the arm. “Please tell me you’re not throwing me a surprise wedding?” she pleaded.

He let out a hearty laugh, linking his arm with hers and replied, “I assure you Bellaseth, this is no wedding.”

The Slayer let out a sigh of relief. “Thank Eru! So, what’s going on?”

“It is as Nestor told you this morning: today is the first day of your new life,” answered Orchal as they proceeded down the green carpeted aisle in the center of the chamber. It ended at Denethor’s High Chair, which sat upon a three-step dais.

“I don’t understand,” said a confused Buffy.

When he reached the area at the foot of the steps, Orchal stopped. The people in the room settled down and it became quiet.

Orchal then began his little speech. “Since the days of our youth far, far east of Ered Luin, we green elves have been under the protection of the Vala, Ulmo. It was he and his kinfolk who waylaid us on the Long Journey when we reached the River Anduin ages ago. And he taught us much about the world, the planting of seeds, the tilling of soil, and the crafting of boats. We have always dwelt in close proximity to his domain – the glorious rivers of Middle-earth, and he brought us comfort and happiness in times of pain and sorrow…

“Yet more and more frequent did sorrow and pain befall us until the Lord Ulmo bid us to gather our belongings and seek hope and bliss in the west. It was Denethor who led us on that perilous journey to these lands years ago where our long lost kin in Menegroth befriended us. And it was through Thingol that we were informed of the horror that was about to be unleashed and would soon plague our peaceful world.” Orchal paused as he became teary-eyed and his voice faint.

“All present here today recall how we were called to arms to aid Thingol in the first battle in Middle-earth. And our Lord, Denethor, and his entire Household perished by the hands of the cruel and vicious yrch upon Amon Ereb. We then decreed that never again shall we answer any call to battle unless evil invades our borders.

“But Ulmo counseled us otherwise, my dear Bellaseth. He said that we are here to serve another purpose in this world, although we do not rightly know what that is. He said that one would come to Ossir out of love and friendship, one who possesses the strength and determination to fight the darkness that will soon encompass this world. He sent you, my friend. The Lady Luinil.”

Buffy’s jaw dropped (it seemed like that was becoming a habit in Middle-earth!) It wasn’t as much as what he said but mentioning the name Luinil. That’s what did it. The Slayer gulped.

“Luinil,” she said softly as she looked into Orchal’s eyes. “Ulmo told you that name?” she questioned.

“Indeed,” he answered. “When we received your message, we knew that the time had come. For you see, this is not only the beginning of a new life for you but for us as well. You are our savior, our only hope. Most of our people have no desire to fight in any war and I would like that to be honored… ”

“What are you saying Orchal?” she asked, still stunned.

“We have held many councils regarding this matter and we, the people of the Land of Seven Rivers, ask that you become the Lord… er, Lady, of Ossiriand. Our leader.”

To say that Buffy was flabbergasted would be an understatement. It was such a surreal moment. Ulmo was sure putting a lot of faith in her and her abilities. She prayed to Eru that she wouldn’t disappoint them.

“Yes, Orchal. I most humbly accept. It would be my honor to serve you and your people,” she responded in her most dignified voice.

The room erupted into cheers and the ‘coronation’ ceremony, which was very simple, immediately took place. The Slayer was thankful that the green elves weren’t into formal rituals like Thingol. But they did present her with a circlet of tiny blue flowers, called luinil, interwoven in silver band. The flowers were actually ‘real’ and would never fade nor lose their scent. Buffy’s eyes welled with tears when Orchal placed it on her head.

Even though the Slayer had vast riches in Folkvang, and anything else that her heart desired, this simple headdress meant more to her than all the contents in her treasuries. It was the dawn of a new age. And Buffy was most excited to start over amid these wonderful people. Needless to say, she spent the rest of the day (and night) celebrating with lots of wine and ale.




Over the next couple weeks, Buffy learned to adjust to her newly exalted position within Ossir. It was something that she was taking very seriously. Her thoughts constantly revolved around warfare and weapons. Not that that was unusual for the Slayer, no, it was a part of her life… a part of her soul. The big difference was that ‘weapons’ were not that easy to come by in Middle-earth. Sure, one could wheel and deal with the dwarves or the elves and acquire a sword, axe, spear or bow. But Buffy was thinking ‘bigger.’

She was amazed by the things that she remembered from her days at Sunnydale High as well as her brief stint in college. Not to mention life experiences. When it came to possible weapons, the idea of devising gunpowder or messing with uranium was not an option even though they are very effective in ‘modern’ warfare. Buffy wished that those things had never been introduced to the world, and when the day comes when they are, it most certainly won’t be by her hands.

Instead, her thoughts turned to history and ancient civilizations. And she recalled many of those ‘primitive’ yet effective war machines from the days of the Roman Empire and Medieval times. “Hey Úrion,” she called to her friend, “Will you bring me some parchment and a quill?” she asked as various images of the ancient weapons flashed in her mind.

“And where am I supposed to find those items?” he asked. “The green elves do not use the runes… ”

“Ask Drór,” suggested Buffy.

The Slayer thanked Eru for the time that she had spent in Rome and all those touristy trips that Allandro had dragged her on. He was a lover of ancient weaponry and took pleasure in building replicas of old engines in his spare time. But many of the things that she remembered, she learned in history class. Who would’ve thought that actually paying attention in class would one day be beneficial to her?

Her first thought went to ancient hurling engines – such as the catapult, the ballista and the trebuchet. These machines could hurl large stones, wooden beams, javelins, and pots of the infamous ‘Greek Fire,’ (which is similar to napalm in modern times) at a great distance and with deadly accuracy. There were the breaching engines such as the battering ram and bores and of course ladders and towers for scaling the walls of any fortification. Her mind was buzzing from all this knowledge that she now recalled.

After thirty minutes, Úrion returned with said ink and parchment. Buffy’s excitement was escalating with every passing minute. She knew that this was what she was supposed to do whether by Eru’s will or the Valar. Immediately, the Slayer began sketching out these devices from memory, but it would be up to the dwarves and elves of Ossir to bring it to fruition.

When Buffy finished sketching about thirty-five of these drawings, she informed her engineers and trusted advisors including the dwarves that she would be holding a council at noon the following day. She shared her thoughts with her closest friends who were truly amazed by ‘her’ designs and the destruction that they were capable of causing.

The Slayer approached the idea from a practical standpoint. The elves of Ossir refused go to war, but that didn’t mean that they couldn’t help build engines and machines that could be advantageous to their allies. Buffy did not forget the Noldor who dwelt upon Angband’s borders. Such devices would come in handy to those who would face the brunt of Morgoth’s forces. War was imminent, but did that mean it could not be somewhat profitable too?

She knew that the newcomers had a monetary system and were also quite skilled in the art of bartering. And Buffy had to seriously consider Ossir’s position in this new age. It’s a normal practice to do business with neighboring lands as long as it’s advantageous for both parties. Furthermore, it was important to her to compensate those in her ever-expanding Household, as that’s one way to ensure loyalty and good will.

But first, they needed to build prototypes… prototypes that actually worked! The Slayer stayed up all night perfecting her sketches and designing them in various sizes.

At first light, Buffy left her bedchamber with a feeling of nervous anticipation as she headed downstairs for an early breakfast. This was her first ‘official’ council as the Lady of the Seven Rivers. She hoped and prayed that everyone would be in agreement with her proposal.

When the appointed time arrived, many of the elves were surprised to learn that the Slayer was holding the meeting in more ‘private’ quarters. Buffy preferred that they all sit around a table so that she could pass her designs to all those present at the assembly. It seemed the only logical thing to do.

There were only twenty-four people that Buffy requested to be in attendance. She didn’t want too many present in case they were revolted by her ideas. Her presentation lasted maybe three hours, she explained in great detail about the mechanics of these engines even though she did not yet possess the skill to construct one herself. That was about to change. The dwarves were most intrigued by the notion of such devices.

It was Ordon the Old, a dwarf, who seemed most impressed by the sketches. Throughout Buffy’s spiel, he would nod his head and mutter, ‘cleaver, cleaver,” under his breath.

“Tell me Lady,” he said as he reviewed the trebuchet design. “What material would you use to have that kind of flexibility? Surely horsehair is not strong enough.”

“Sinew,” she replied. “It’s both elastic and can withstand tremendous force. Plus, it’s the byproduct of most animals, so it’s plentiful.”

“Forgive me Lady, but tell me you are not planning on slaying innocent animals only to acquire their sinew,” blurted the dark-haired councilor, Gúrchim.

“Of course not!” she shot back reproachfully. Buffy had no intention on harming some poor deer or ox that roamed harmlessly in the wild. But the fact remains, all Eru’s children eat… and none were vegetarians either! Elves were already resourceful when it came to using animal byproducts; this was just another byproduct that was not currently being utilized. “But we shouldn’t waste what’s already available,” she continued. “Animals are slaughtered here every day for food. Let’s start collecting all the sinew from here on out… ”

“But Bella,” interjected Úrion. “Do you think that will be enough to build all these devices?”

“Probably not,” she answered. The room fell quiet for several long minutes; everyone was deep in their own thoughts.

Buffy’s eyes widened. “Hey! I think I know how we can get additional supplies of sinew. We can always hunt Morgoth’s puppies, the Wargs. I’m not deaf to the rumors about what’s haunting Taur-im-Duinath (The Forest between Rivers), you know. From what I hear we might even have an endless supply!”

The room erupted into rumblings.

“That seems appropriate to me,” declared Orchal. “I like the idea of using the flesh of the enemy as a means to thwart their evil plot. I must say Bella that you have done well with your first council. Constructing these devices can be our way of contributing to the upcoming wars without being in the direct line of fire.” He raised his glass to her. “I’m in total agreement with you, my dear Luinil.”

Everyone unanimously agreed to help make these weapons of war as a way of hopefully contributing to the downfall of Morgoth. Little did the Slayer know that by building these contraptions, she would soon earn the title Vala of War in addition to Vala of Love.

Before sending any type of hunting party out, they would use the sinew they had available to construct their first engine, the catapult. Buffy knew that it was going to be a matter of trial and error and she was correct in her assessment. After several months and five attempts, they were able to successfully launch a two hundred pound boulder three hundred and fifty yards. Its target was a twenty-foot by twenty-foot wooden structure that she had erected for the sole purpose of destroying it. The catapult’s accuracy was dead on.




With the arrival of winter, the dwarves returned to Belegost with the promise that they would return in spring. Buffy didn’t blame them. Winter was the rainy season here and since the dwarves refused to stay in the houses in the trees, they were subjected to streams of water running through their tents and all their belongings became wet and muddy. No, the Naugrim were not fans of ‘roughing’ it.

It was not long after their departure when the Slayer fell into a melancholy state. While she was very happy about her new life in Ossir, the reality of the situation was, she was lonely. Life would be much better if she had someone to share it with. And it wasn’t like there were no elves interested in ‘courting’ her, there were, but none whom she deemed to be her ‘type.’

Later that night she fell into a fitful sleep.

Buffy suddenly awoke sometime in the wee hours of the morning, which was strange because she could really use the sleep. But for some unknown reason, the desire for sleep left her. Her mind was inundated with thoughts and images of everything that had transpired within the last six months including her newly exalted position in Ossiriand. She wondered if she was ready to face this whole new set of responsibilities that fell in her lap. After all, she had only been responsible for those in her own Household, now she responsible for an entire populace.

And on top of that, she still had to deal with Morgoth, Illyria and all the other spawns that dwelt in the bowels of Angband at some point in the future. And of course there were also Folkvang and mankind… and the mystical prison. It seemed to the Slayer that she had too much on her plate at the moment. The burden of it all finally hit her; she was carrying the weight of the world on her delicate shoulders.

In desperate need of some fresh air, Buffy pulled on her cloak, left the house, and climbed down one of the ladders to the ground below. She immediately headed south, walking deeper into the forest, lost in thought. Before she knew it, she came upon a familiar sight – the mystical pool.

The Slayer climbed upon the same flat rock on which she had found Salmar long ago, sat down and glanced into the shimmering water. She called for Ulmo repeatedly, but he never showed. She tried summoning Salmar, but he too, did not respond. This made Buffy even more depressed. She longed to talk with someone about this burden, but to whom could she turn? Folkvang was ruled out since time moved so differently there. One day in that mystical realm was the equivalent to over a week in Middle-earth. And with her recent appointment as the ‘Blue Lady of Ossiriand,’ it didn’t seem appropriate to leave so abruptly nor without an explanation.

The tears started to flow as a direct result of her insecurities and a complete lack of belief in herself. On top of all her other responsibilities, she still had to deal with the Hellmouths too. And in the back of the Slayer’s mind, she knew that Morgoth would continue to haunt her until he reclaimed her as his own. How much was the Chosen One expected to endure? Buffy didn’t know how she could possibly handle everything on her own.

A gust of cool air blew through the trees, chilling the Slayer. Instead of retreating back to her warm bed, she wrapped her fur cloak tighter around her to ward off the chill. Exhaustion set in after the last tear fell and she curled up on that flat stone and fell into a most blissful dream…

Buffy found herself standing alone in some grassy meadow by the seashore. The sun was sinking in the west as a gentle wind blew from the eastern sea. She had no recollection of ever being in this place. There was no doubt that this was a dream, maybe even a mystical one, and as long as Morgoth wasn’t in it, she would play along.

Suddenly, she heard someone begin to sing. It was definitely a man’s voice and it seemed to be the sweetest sound that she had ever heard. She stood there, unable to move. It was as if some spell was cast over her and all her senses went numb except for her sense of hearing. His song enthralled her. It filled her with joy, love and hope as nothing ever did before.

When the singing stopped, only to echo through the meadow, the spell seemed to lift. She proceeded towards the edge of the cliff, where the singing came from below. As she glanced down, she saw a dark-haired elf sitting by the water’s edge. From this angle, she could tell that he was wearing a blue long sleeved tunic and tan breeches. Unfortunately, she could only see his back. His long hair wafted in the sea breeze and Buffy’s heart skipped a beat as he began another song. The Slayer was terrified that he might stop singing his inspirational tune if he noticed her, so she lay on her belly in the tall grass, peering over the edge, watching the elf dreamily.

Night after night, Buffy experienced this same dream over and over again. It was always exactly the same as it was on the first night until some weeks later. That’s when everything changed.

The Slayer arrived in the meadow as she always did, but this time she didn’t hear that sweet elvish voice. She walked to the cliffs’ edge and saw that the beach was deserted, not an elf in sight. Thinking that he might have moved further down the coast, she walked along the stony verge anxiously seeking the soulful singer. A feeling of disappointment came over her when she had no luck discovering his whereabouts.

Instinctively, she knew that it was nearly time to wake in the ‘real’ world. With her head hung low, the dejected Slayer was preparing to depart, when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She pivoted on the spot only to discover that the mysterious singer stood before her. Her heart began to race as she looked into his deep gray eyes. He was gorgeous!

“Looking for me?” he asked with a mischievous grin on his face.