Full Circle

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: FOOL FOR LOVE



When Buffy’s people heard the loud rumbling crack of thunder, they all ran to her tent. They understood its meaning. Úrion dashed inside and saw the Slayer holding Mablung in her arms, her eyes were as blue flames and she was starting to emit a white light.

“Come Mablung,” Úrion said as he grabbed the silver-haired elf and hastily pulled him outside the tent. “You must go!” Hordes of green-elves surrounded the tent as Úrion ran back inside. “Calm down, Bella. Calm down,” he begged. Her breathing was labored and the light from her fey was becoming brighter and brighter. He backhanded the Slayer, busting her lip in the process, in hope that that would bring her back to her senses. When that failed, he violently shook her in attempt to rouse her from that trance-like state. She blinked a few times and the rolling sounds of thunder ceased. “I’m sorry, my dear, but you left me no other choice. You cannot go around displaying your powers on a whim,” he added as he carefully wiped the blood from her lip. Her eyes soon returned to their normal state and her body no longer emitted the white light. Úrion continued, “You must not let your emotions get the best of you. Show some restraint when in the company of so many strangers.”

“Morgoth,” she began, as her body still shook from rage. “He bewitched Mablung. That whole wedding thing was His doing. He was behind it the whole time… I was a fool not to see it sooner.”

“Shh,” comforted the elf as put his arm around her. “What’s done is done. Unless you have decided that you want to return to Mablung and your life in Doriath… ”

“No,” she said as she pulled away from her friend. “I feel Mablung’s pain, Úrion. He still loves me. His feelings are real.”

“Mablung is a strong man. He will get over it. Time heals all wounds, you’ve said that yourself,” he remarked as he pulled a strand of her blonde hair from her face.

Once Buffy calmed down, she summoned Orchal and Nestor to join them in her tent. They soon entered along with Kit and Kat, who jumped onto the bed next to their mistress. She instructed her friends to take the Noldorin Lords back to Ossir as planned. She would not be traveling with him. Úrion would be in charge of negotiating the sale of the engines as Buffy had appointed him Minister of Finance.

She asked that Maglor be brought to her as soon as possible. After the debacle with Mablung, the Slayer knew that the time had arrived for her to come clean with her lover. There would be no hope of any future together if she didn’t disclose the things in her past. No matter how much that thought alone frightened her, she hoped that that old adage “love conquers all” would apply here.

Unbeknownst to Buffy, Úrion took it upon himself to deal with Mablung. He informed the heartsick elf that his former ladylove had already moved on to her next conquest and that any hope of reconciliation was out of the question. The Slayer would not have approved of his tactless manner.

Orchal arrived fifteen minutes later with a very confused Maglor. He had enlightened the Noldo about how badly Buffy’s former relationship with Mablung had ended. But that was nothing compared to what she was going to tell him.

Buffy forced a smile when he entered. “Put the skins on the tent. We need a shield,” she ordered Orchal before he left.

“What?” queried a still confused Maglor.

“Do you trust me?” she asked as she rose to her feet. He nodded. “Good. Just trust me here.” They could hear the sound of the animals skins being thrown all over the tent. Buffy pet her kitties as she waited patiently for her people to finish their work. “Coming kitties?” she asked. Kit let out a roar of agreement. “Okay, we’re ready.” She took Maglor’s hand. “I’m taking you to my home on Tol Galen in Ossir.” Gradually the tent became filled with a blinding white light and a moment later, they all disappeared.

“What the…?” questioned a shocked Maglor as they reappeared a moment later inside Lindecoa. “How did you that?”

She took his hand and led him to her Mirror. “It’s magic, Káno, you know that. Do you remember when we first met and you asked me if I was an Ainu?”

He most certainly remembered. “And I was correct in my assessment, was I not?” inquired Maglor with a grin. Buffy nodded. “You are indeed one of the Maiar?”

“Um, no. I’m a Vala,” she confessed. The Noldo was stunned by her admission. “Actually, I’m the Vala of Love.” The Slayer felt her face go flush.

“The Vala of Love?” Maglor questioned, slightly taken aback. His mouth felt dry. “That helps me understand the events that had transpired earlier this evening with that Mablung,” he muttered as he walked over to the sideboard and poured them both a drink. “I would not have guessed that you were one of the Valar though. I am yet amazed that after all these years, we know so little about one another,” he continued, handing her a glass of cordial.

“Yeah, I guess we kinda live in the moment when we’re together,” she replied after taking a sip.

“My heart tells me that’s about to change,” revealed Maglor sadly. “For I deem that the time has come for us to… ”

“Confess the sins of our pasts?” suggested the Slayer.

He sighed heavily. “Yes,” he answered. “A dark cloud hovers over all the Noldor… especially the House of Fëanor,” admitted the Noldo gloomily.

“Maybe that’s what we have in common: dark clouds hovering over us,” said Buffy softly.

“What do you mean?” he queried with a puzzled expression. “Surely a Vala of Light such as yourself is free from a doom of your own devising.”

“That’s not necessarily true,” she responded. “It’s complicated… but you need to know. We won’t know true happiness if we don’t know everything about each other’s pasts, even if it’s dark and… unpleasant.” She grabbed the ewer from the basin and began to fill it with water from the cistern. “I’m not all-knowing; I can’t see everything in the future. But sometimes I see snippets of things to come. And sometimes I see things that have already happened in the past.” As she poured the last bit of water, she added, “There can’t be any secrets between us Maglor.”

“Then the time has arrived for us to bring it all out in the open,” said the crestfallen Noldo.

“I guess that I should go first,” volunteered the Slayer. She spoke of her earliest memories as Buffy Anne Summers since all other recollections from her life as a Vala had been hidden from her. She told him about her life as the Chosen One and the many battles that she had faced while residing in Los Angeles, Sunnydale, England and Rome. She confessed that her first love was a vampire cursed with a soul and how he had turned evil after they had consummated their relationship. She explained how she had loved him so much that even after he had started killing her friends, she still didn’t have the heart to stop him. And when she finally did, it was only after he had regained his soul and was good again.

She told him about all of her lovers from the days of her youth preceding her arrival in Middle-earth, no matter how humiliating the telling. She spoke of her one night stand with Parker Abrams to her violent sexual encounters with Spike upon her return to the land of the living. Perhaps she revealed too much, but she wanted to make sure that Maglor knew everything about her, even if that meant she could possibly lose him as a direct result. She concluded the first part of her tale with her battle with The First and her untimely arrival at Nan Dungortheb over twenty-eight years ago.

Maglor, who had been sitting on one of the overstuffed chairs, remained silent while she rambled on. Before he made any comment, he refilled their glasses once again.

“You have bedded many men, Luinil,” he finally said. Buffy felt embarrassed, especially by the fact that she wasn’t nearly finished disclosing all of her ‘secrets.’ “And you have not yet told me the tale of you and Thingol’s Chieftain… I admit that I’m not pleased to hear all that you have said, but we are talking about your past.” His deep gray eyes looked at her with understanding. “Although there were times when you seemed misguided, you always did the right thing in the end. That’s admirable and noble. You really do not have anything to be ashamed of. You have demonstrated your love for all people in this world time and time again. I consider myself blessed to be worthy of your love. I can only hope that you will say the same after I tell you my tale.”

Maglor was determined to begin his tale even though Buffy wasn’t finished revealing all of hers. She decided to let him have at it since her curiosity was getting the best of her.

The Noldo started his tale with the story of Finwë and Míriel, his grandparents on his father’s side. Buffy discovered that Míriel had died shortly after giving birth to Maglor’s father, Fëanor, leaving Finwë filled with despair for he longed to have more children. Soon he wed another, Indis the Fair, and she bore him four more children much to the chagrin of Fëanor. With the release of Morgoth from Mandos, the evil Vala soon brought dissention amongst the Noldorin Princes over his jealousy and lust for Fëanor’s Silmarils. The lies and malice that Morgoth spread resulted in the eldest son of Finwë drawing his blade on his half-brother, Fingolfin, outside the King’s Halls in Tirion on the hill of Túna. For that crime, Námo banished Fëanor from the elven city for twelve years. With his pride wounded, Fëanor, his father, and his seven sons left their home and headed north where they established the fortress, Formenos.

At this point in his tale, Maglor became disquiet and found it difficult to continue. Buffy got to her feet and walked over to her Mirror. She withdrew a blade from the foot of the pedestal.

“Are you going to kill me?” he questioned, wide-eyed.

Buffy couldn’t help but laugh despite the enormity of the situation. “No, lover, I’m not gonna kill you. Come here.” He rose to his feet and joined her at the basin. “With some of your blood, I can see the events from your past unfold for myself. That is, if it’s okay with you.”

His eyes were filled with sorrow as he offered his hand to the Slayer. “Do as you wish, Lady. I only ask that you do not judge me harshly.” She ran the blade along his palm and allowed several drops of his blood to fall into the bowl. As each drop hit the water, it turned silvery-blue in color. She waved her hand over the basin and blew her breath on it. She clapped her hands together and the contents ignited into blue flames. The images appeared before them like a hologram, complete with sound. She healed her lover before turning her attention to the images that formed before them.

They watched as the fair form of Morgoth visited Fëanor at Formenos, beseeching the Noldorin Prince to seek his inheritance in the wide lands of Middle-earth, where he would be free from the will of the Valar. Fëanor, who saw through Morgoth’s guise, humiliated the Vala by slamming the door in his face. That brought a smile to the Slayer’s face, although she knew Morgoth well enough that the eldest son of Finwë would pay dearly for that deed.

The image changed to a great feast held upon Taniquetil where most of the elves and Ainur were gathered in celebration. For the first time ever, Buffy witnessed the magnificence of the blending of the light of the Two Trees… and then the sudden Darkness that followed, causing great confusion in the Blessed Realm. Then she saw Morgoth and an accomplice arrive at Formenos and the sons of Fëanor fled before the unknown terror. Alone on the threshold stood Finwë, who was then brutally slain by Morgoth. She watched as the Enemy broke through the iron doors of the treasury and stole all the wondrous treasures of Fëanor, including the Silmarils.

The scene shifted to the Ring of Doom before the gates of Valimar and the Valar demanding that Fëanor give up his Great Jewels in order to rekindle the light of the Two Trees, which were now withered. Buffy didn’t blame Fëanor for his refusal, but things went from bad to worse when his sons arrived informing him of his father’s death. The Slayer’s heart was filled with both sorrow and pity at the sight of Curufinwë Fëanáro, greatest of the Noldor, finding out that his beloved father had been murdered in the Blessed Realm.

Fëanor, in the madness of his grief, returned to Tirion and led the Noldor to revolt against the Valar. Now, truth be told, Buffy couldn’t wholly blame him for his reaction. How in Eru’s name did the Valar allow Morgoth to get away with so much shit while in their ‘heavenly’ realm? How could any of The Powers be so blind to their kinsman’s malicious scheming? Or did they simply turn a blind eye to it?

But what made Buffy fall to her knees and weep was the terrible Oath that Fëanor and his sons so eagerly swore. They vowed to pursue with vengeance, to the ends of the World, any who withheld a Silmaril from them, whether they be good or evil, man or elf, demon or Vala. And in their rage, they called upon the Everlasting Darkness to take them if they should fail. The Powers including Eru Ilúvatar were named in witness and Buffy knew that Maglor’s doom was even greater than she had anticipated. As a Vala, she knew that that Oath would bite each son of Fëanor on the ass and that because of her love for Maglor, she too would bitterly drink from that same cup of woe.

The Noldor then started on the long, dark road towards Alqualondë. Buffy witnessed the Kinslaying of the Teleri by the Lords of the Noldor in order to seize their ships and the Doom of the Noldor that was proclaimed by none other than her very own brother, Námo. The Valar directed their wrath on the House of Fëanor and cursed them especially for all the horrible deeds they had committed. She then saw the curse set in motion with the burning of the ships at Losgar that left Fingolfin and his people stranded in the wickedly cold region, Helcaraxë. The image faded until the flickering flames were contained within the basin.

Buffy remained seated on the floor, tears streaming down her face. She knew that her fate had now been sealed. Even with this new knowledge, there was no turning back. She loved Maglor and nothing… not even those atrocities that he had committed would damper the love that she felt for him. She would die first.

Slowly she got to her feet, walked over to Maglor and sat on his lap. She threw her arms around him. “I love you, Káno. I forgive what you’ve done but I’m afraid I powerless to do anything about the Oath. I can’t imagine calling upon Everlasting Darkness… you screwed up big time!”

“We were consumed with grief… and madness… ” Buffy didn’t hear much after that. She wondered if maybe she could convince Námo to remove the curse or perhaps the House of Fëanor could make amends in some way.

They sat in silence for a while before Buffy got back to her feet. “I guess I need to finish my tale,” she said solemnly. “And I’m afraid that you will see Maglor, that yes, a dark cloud hangs over me as well. Even worse, my doom has been brought about by my own hands.” She then sliced her hand and let the blood drip into the blue flames causing them to rise higher and higher until her story unfolded before their eyes.

Her relationship with Mablung played out like a movie until it was interrupted by the guilefulness of Morgoth. Maglor watched in horror as she and his bitterest Foe ‘united’ in more ways than one. His jaw hung open as he witnessed the ‘wedding’ ceremony between the two Valar, the torture of his kinfolk and the birth of their demon offspring, Illyria. He then saw her escape with Luthor as well her ‘reunion’ with Mablung, followed by the humiliating end to that relationship.

While that was quite distressing to Maglor, he also understood that she had been bewitched and powerless to do anything about it. But he could not say the same for the incident with Marto. That happened after she had met the Noldo and she acted of her own free will. That hurt him deeper than all the events that had transpired while she was held under Morgoth’s sway.

“I did it because I was desperate to get back to you,” she explained. “I’ve tried every way I could think of to get back, but nothing worked. You’ve seen that for yourself.”

He downed his drink in one gulp. “Indeed. How can I hold anything against you after all the things that I have done… ”

“It doesn’t matter any more,” she said. “There are no more secrets. Now we can move on.”

“I must say that this has been utterly exhausting,” yawned Maglor. “It has been a long night.” Buffy suggested that they turn in. Much to her dismay, her lover requested his own room for the night. That confused her as they had spent the last three nights together, but never did anything inappropriate. Maglor remained ever the gentleman although Buffy wished otherwise. With a heavy heart, she went to bed.

The Slayer awoke the following morning feeling relaxed and more hopeful about her future with Maglor. As she changed, she could hear the sweet love songs being sung by one of her minstrels. She made her way downstairs and found her dark haired lover outside on one of the porches sipping tea. Lindecoa was nearly deserted as most of her people had not yet returned from Eithel Ivrin. She took it upon herself to cook them breakfast, which they ate in one of the gardens.

Afterwards, Buffy gave Maglor the grand tour of her home and grounds. It was such a beautiful spring morning, the birds were singing happily and the air was filled with the fragrance of many blossoming flowers. They walked through the gardens and ended up at Lanthir Lamath (Fall of Echoing Voices), where they sat and continued their conversation regarding the battle that Fëanor and his sons fought upon their arrival in Middle-earth. Buffy was quite shocked by the description of Fëanor’s death. He was literally ‘consumed’ by his spirit and turned to ash.

“Hmm,” remarked Buffy when she heard that.

“What?” queried the elf.

“Well, it just seems… Your dad didn’t have a couple of puncture marks on his neck or elsewhere?” she asked suspiciously.

“Whatever do you mean?” he asked, slightly perplexed.

“I mean, he died like a vampire. They turn to dust. And with his odd behavior… you know, the violence, mayhem, chaos… it sounds like he was a vampire,” stated the Slayer.

Maglor chuckled over that. “That’s absurd. I promise, my father was no vampire.”

“It was just a thought,” she replied. It seemed to make perfect sense to her, but she never brought it up again. “So… what do you want to do now?” she queried with a mischievous grin.

He smiled. “Hmm… let me think.” Buffy didn’t give him a chance to say anything else. She became the aggressor and kissed him passionately beneath the mammoth oak tree. Unfortunately, all her attempts at seducing him were in vain. Maglor would have none of it.

The Noldo then explained that it was against the laws and customs of the Eldar to have sex outside of wedlock. Buffy thought that was preposterous considering the other ‘laws’ that he so willing broke. And he was no virgin; he had been with another woman before. Yes, they were betrothed at the time, but their relationship ended when he had left for Formenos long ago.

“I love you and you love me, so why don’t we get betrothed?” she asked directly.

“Are you sure that you’re ready to make that commitment?” he queried skeptically.

“That’s a crappy thing to say. Of course, I’m ready. I’ve never been more ready in my life. We’re meant to be together even I can see that!” she smirked back.

“Then let us plight our troth this very day,” he said with a smile.

“Oh, wait. I mean, we can do the plight our troth thingy but we can’t have the ceremony for another… ” She thought hard about the words that Salmar told her long ago. “Um, we’ve got to wait at least twenty-two more years. Actually, let’s make it twenty-three years.”

“What in the name of the Valar are you talking about?” he questioned.

Buffy then explained about her visit from Salmar years ago and how he had told her not to marry until she had been in Middle-earth for fifty years. Since Buffy was unsure if Salmar meant a specific season or something, she figured they would be better off to wait an extra year. The last thing that they needed was another bad omen.

So, it was on that fair morning on Tol Galen that they pledged their love and devotion to one another. Maglor still rebuffed the Slayer’s advances saying that they had to wait until their betrothal becomes ‘official.’ She was about to pull her hair out over all this Eldar ritual stuff.

“You have no father for me to ask permission,” Maglor remarked. “And I don’t think that your brothers would approve.”

That made Buffy laugh. “Oh, I can just see that: ‘Hey Námo, care to approve the wedding between me and the elf that you cursed to eternal damnation?’ No, I don’t see that going over too well. Besides, I have no memory of him. I’ve only met Irmo and I’m not sure if he would give his blessing.”

“Perhaps your son, Anno. He is the eldest male in your line,” suggested the Noldo.

The Slayer rolled her eyes at that. “That’s not a very appealing thought either. Sometimes I think Anno wishes that his father and me stayed together. I kinda get that vibe from him,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders. “If you’re so into this ritual thing, then you can ask Luthor. He’s basically been my surrogate father since… well, you know. I love him dearly and he would most definitely approve.”

“And where do we find your surrogate father?” he queried.

“He’s at the Deeper Well,” she answered. “But I don’t want to leave yet. We basically have the whole palace to ourselves. It’s a shame to leave when we’ll probably never have this kind of privacy again.”

“If you are not ready then we shall wait. In the meantime, we can forge our betrothal rings,” Maglor suggested with a smile.

“Betrothal rings?” she queried. “I like the sound of that.” She thought for a moment. “Would these rings mean that our betrothal is ‘official’?”

“Indeed. We each need a simple silver band… ”

“I’ve got silver rings!” she exclaimed enthusiastically as she got to her feet. “I’ve got lots of rings in my treasuries.” She grabbed him by the hands and pulled him to his feet. “Of course, I’ve got more in Folkvang, but we can see if we can find a couple of simple silver bands.”

Buffy nearly dragged the Noldo back to Lindecoa. For some reason, she heard the song Everybody Wants Some by Van Halen in her head. Whom was she kidding? She wanted some, and she hoped that once they exchanged rings, Maglor would want some too. There was nothing like be ruled by ones hormones!

They descended the stairway to the vaults, which were situated underneath the palace. Buffy didn’t have much in her treasuries as most of her valuables were kept under lock and key in Sussrúmnir. She heaved one of the chests off the floor and dumped the contents all over the marble-topped table. “Silver rings, silver rings,” she kept mumbling under her breath. Maglor found her behavior highly amusing. “Here’s one!” announced Buffy as she slipped the band on his right index finger. It was a tight fit, but it fit nevertheless. Out of desperation, the Slayer grabbed a silver hoop earring and handed it to Maglor. “Will this do?” she asked nervously. “My fingers are really small and nothing else fits.”

The Noldo laughed heartily at her words. “Yes, this will work for the time being,” he said as he slipped it on her finger. “Now, we’re officially betrothed.” That’s all she needed to hear. To her amazement, Maglor became the aggressor and kissed her passionately as he picked her up and laid her on the table. She had never expected their first time to be in one of her vaults, and on a table no less. But good things come to those who wait, right?