Full Circle

The following morning, after bidding good-bye to her children, Buffy and the caravan of more than one hundred elves set out from Tol Galen. Once again, they would travel by boat to Lindon, and then proceed on by horseback to northern Beleriand. Buffy didn’t mind, as the journey along the river was most beautiful, especially at that time of year (beginning of summer.) All the vegetation flourished along the riverbank and a variety of birds zoomed back and forth singing their merry melodies. A dozen or so swans accompanied the ships on the River Adurant. They looked graceful despite the rapid current of that stream.

Buffy savored every moment of the trip. Although her beloved husband forbade her to sunbathe naked on the boat, she spent all day basking in the sunlight, tanning herself as much as possible. She wore the skimpiest outfits that she possessed in order to achieve the maximum effects from the rays of the sun. That, Maglor begrudgingly permitted; he hated the way the men leered at her when she dressed that way. Nevertheless, he sang sweet love songs to his wife from beneath the canopied area of the deck.

The group spent two days in Lindon before they set off again, this time on horseback. It had been a long while since Buffy had last rode and it took a couple of days for her body to acclimate to the most unpleasant feeling of being atop a horse. She was beginning to think that she made a mistake by not taking her chariot, but that would have required her to stand throughout the journey. And Kit and Kat seemed pleased to be roaming the countryside freely. Her butt would just have to suffer.

On the forth day of their leisurely journey, they set up camp at dusk just north of the Dwarf Road and the River Ascar. They were now in the region known as Thargelion or Dor Caranthir to the Noldor, for this was the domain of the forth son of Fëanor. As the sun set, a cool breeze blew from the east through the gap in Ered Luin. Many fires were lit and the smell of roasting meat permeated through that wooded area. Maglor continued to strum on his harp and the magnificence of his voice drew many Enyd from the depths of the forest. The Noldor that were present were excited by their first encounter with the Shepherds of the Forest. Buffy was delighted to see that Thônel was among them.

When nature called, the Slayer retreated into the woods. After peeing, she became consumed by the strangest feeling. So strange was it that the hair on her arms and neck stood on end. As she looked around, she noticed a clearing through the trees about four hundred yards to the east. Without alerting anyone, she took off in that direction. It was as if she were being called even though she heard no voices other than those at the encampment. When Buffy reached that area, she saw no one, yet the feeling didn’t leave her. She looked upwards at the star speckled sky and saw a phantom image of herself in falcon form. It appeared that that tragic moment that she had experienced years ago was replaying before her eyes. That or the wine she had drunk had really gone to her head.

It was then that she saw something fall from the sky. She couldn’t clearly make it out but she recognized the tinkling sound. Buffy began to examine the ground looking for the ghostly object. She nearly fainted when she came across the gilded belt that Morgoth had given her years ago. It had been trampled into the earth, but was not damaged. She picked it up and began cleaning it off; the chinking sound of the charms still captivated her. The Slayer couldn’t imagine what the chances were that she would stumble upon that mystical weapon after it’s having been lost for so many years.

It was then that Buffy felt a hand on her shoulder, which caused her to jump. She nearly knocked the hell out of her husband.

“Damn, Maglor,” she said breathlessly, holding her hand to her chest. “Don’t creep up on me like that. You scared the hell out of me.”

He found her reaction rather amusing. “I was worried. You have been gone a long time and I wanted to make sure everything was alright,” he responded, as his eyes went to the belt. “What do you have there?”

“Oh,” she answered. “Um, it’s the belt I had lost when the dwarves attacked me.” She held it up, the charms jingled in the process. “I thought it was lost for good, but amazingly, I just found it.”

Maglor looked closer at the belt. “Oh, yes. I remember that. Surely, it must be a stroke of luck for you to happen upon it after all these years. I can’t believe no one had found it before now.”

“Me too,” she replied as she clasped it around her waist. Buffy felt slightly uncomfortable. She had never told Maglor the truth about the belt. He believed that it was made by the smiths in Folkvang, not Morgoth. If he knew the truth, he’d want it destroyed, and quite honestly, the Slayer loved that weapon and intended on using it in the upcoming battles in Middle-earth. She would not part with it for anything.

“I take it this is the place where you were assailed,” remarked the Noldo as he looked towards the heavens.

“Yep,” she answered, following his gaze. She pointed upwards. “Right up there.”

“How I would love to get my hands on those evil dwarves!” he said through gritted teeth. “I would show them no mercy for what they had done to you.”

Buffy looked at her husband with a huge grin on her face before wrapping her arms around his waist. “Something tells me that that opportunity is going to present itself sooner than you think,” prophesied the Slayer. “Nothing will please me more than fighting with you by my side.”

“You’ve had another vision, haven’t you?” he asked as he pulled her closer. “What is it that you’ve seen in that beautiful head of yours?” Maglor asked as he caressed her cheek tenderly.

The Slayer gestured to the north. “There’s a group of them about three days ride north of here.”

“You mean to say that they’re in Caranthir’s lands as we speak,” said the shocked Noldo.

“Uh-huh,” she replied.

“Well, it appears that luck is on our side,” said Maglor with a laugh. “Those dwarves will rue the day that they ever set foot in Beleriand. Should we inform the others?” he questioned.

“I’d rather keep it quiet, for now,” answered Buffy. “I want to give the young ones a chance to hone their skills. They need to learn how to recognize the good dwarves from the bad.” Her smile widened.

“Why do I get the feeling that this is going to be Thranduil’s shining moment?” queried the dark-haired elf.

“Because you’re perceptive, wise… and mine!” said Buffy, as she stood on her tippy toes and kissed her husband ravenously. The prospect of actually fighting again greatly aroused the Slayer.

“Here?” whispered Maglor anxiously, as Buffy continued to plant kisses on his face. “With so many people close by?”

“We’re newlyweds. We’re supposed to be wild and care free,” she answered before covering his mouth with hers once again. The Noldo didn’t need any more convincing. He took her right then and there…



On the morning of the third day, Buffy informed Maglor’s brothers and some of the high-ranking warriors in the group of the upcoming skirmish. Before they set out, she wanted to send the youngsters ahead as scouts. They would not be put in harms way as the dwarves were outnumbered by the elves 2:1. Both the Slayer and the Noldor could smell the foulness of the evil sons of Mahal in the air, leaving no doubt that they were tracking the Noegyth Nibin (Petty Dwarves.)

Twenty-two young people would be sent ahead of the caravan. Some of these were women and Buffy was anxious to see how well they would do in a confrontational situation. Even though the dwarves were outnumbered, they were a hardy folk and these in particular, were especially cruel and vicious. The young ones were already dressed appropriately in their battle gear, eager for any type conflict that would require them to utilize their skills of combat.

As the youngsters (some of them were older than Buffy!) took off down the road that meandered through the foggy woods, the others stayed behind. Celegorm, who had the ability to understand the language of all beasts, was conversing with some squirrels who had spied upon the evil dwarves. They were nearly five miles to the north-west of the elves current location, decimating a grove of rowan trees. The Noegyth Nibin took pleasure in destroying everything in their path.

Thirty minutes later, the group started down the road. Buffy and the sons of Fëanor were at the forefront while the carts laden with their provisions were at the rear of the train. All the elves were armed, but none wore any mail. These were experienced warriors and the Noldor did not feel threatened by the dwarves. Of course, they had no idea how steadfast they could be. Buffy knew that her people would only suffer minor injuries; none would perish at the hands of the Petty Dwarves. If she needed to use her magics to subdue them, she would.

The early morning fog was a blessing in disguise as the elves eyesight was the most acute of the children of Eru Ilúvatar (or Aulë, for that matter,) and it did not hinder their ability to see the dwarves. It was not long afterwards when the scouts excitedly returned. Thranduil was the one who gave them the report since he was heir to the throne of Ossiriand.

“Bella,” he said from atop his steed. “There are sixty-two dwarves up ahead. My heart tells me that these are the evil sons of Aulë. They are hacking and burning the forest as they go.” Thranduil was a lover of trees and it upset him greatly to see its needless destruction.

Buffy smiled at the young silver-haired elf. She felt so much pride that he was able to detect their true nature. “I believe you’re right, little man.”

“Then these are the creatures that incapacitated you?” he queried gravely.

“Yes,” she responded. “The time has come for us to engage the enemy.”

The youngsters unsheathed their weapons upon hearing Buffy’s words. “Death to the evil ones!” proclaimed Thranduil as he raised his blade into the air. “The House of Bellaseth Dagnir shall be avenged this day.”

The Slayer turned to her husband. “His words are like music to my ears,” said a beaming Buffy.

“He will make a great King one day,” answered Maglor.

“Muinthel,” interjected Maedhros. “I suggest that we let the youngsters approach the dwarves from the road while we take to the woods. Let them rout the enemy straight to us.”

“Great idea, Russandol,” replied Buffy. “We need to make sure that we form a blockade to prevent them from escaping.”

“Will do,” added Curufin, as he, Celegorm, Caranthir and several Noldor took off to the west.

“Stick to the road, Thranduil,” instructed the Slayer. “Approach the dwarves as stealthily as possible. We’ll lie in wait for your signal.”

“And what will that be?” asked the young elf.

Buffy smiled. “The blood-curdling screams of the dwarves, of course,” she answered with a wink. “Good luck! And for Eru’s sake, be careful!” She looked at all the youngsters and added, “All of you.”

The elves then took off into the woods. Buffy, Maglor, Maedhros and their people would cover the north, while the other sons of Fëanor defend the west. Thranduil and the rest of his group would strike from the east off the main road, while the green elves would form a line of attack to the south. The Slayer wanted to make sure that there was no chance for the dwarves to escape.

Everyone’s adrenaline was pumping as they rode through the trees. The further north they went, the denser the fog and smoke became. The smell of the burning trees and foliage was heavy in the air. Buffy wondered if the Enyd were around, as they would react very violently to the unwarranted molesting of their charges.

It took the elves another forty-five minutes before they reached their positions. Only minutes later, the clamor began. The gruff voices of the Petty Dwarves sounded through the forest and the sound of metal clashing against metal echoed throughout that region. Some of the green elves that had accompanied Buffy’s group dismounted from their horses and worked feverishly in putting out the brush fires that had been started. Many of the elves covered their noses and mouths with handkerchiefs, which reminded Buffy of bandits in those old western movies from the modern times.

Many in the company were now on foot. They watched the youngsters wage their war of revenge on the barbarians. A number of Noldor, led by Maedhros joined the fray. Buffy watched Thranduil closely. She wanted to be there when he made his first kill, which was a momentous occasion for any warrior. The dwarves had formed themselves into several rings, one inside the other. That formation was a telltale sign that there was someone of significance within the center of the circle.

Buffy was quite impressed with Thranduil’s gumption. Despite his youthful age, he aggressively pursued his opponent with an intensity that floored her. She moved in closer and watched as the young elf’s sword pierced through the jerkin of his enemy thus squelching his life.

Her eyes welled with tears; she was so proud of Thranduil. “That’s my boy,” she uttered to Maglor, who was most anxious to jump into the thick of things.

“I don’t know if I can restrain myself any longer, Luinil,” said her husband. “I wish to avenge my beloved.”

“Go for it!” she replied excitedly. Maglor withdrew his blade from its scabbard and joined the others in the fight.

The Slayer continued to watch as the frontline of dwarves fell, only to be replaced by the next. She closed her eyes for a few moments, and inhaled deeply. When her eyes popped open again, they shone with the fire from within her. The one who threw the axe that had hit her was the one being protected by his brethren. That dwarf would be Buffy’s kill. She charged the ring of dwarves at great speed. Their weapons bounced off an invisible shield that surrounded her, leaving them both mystified and horrified. When she reached the center, she grabbed the culprit by the beard, and easily disarmed him. She then dragged the squirming, wicked dwarf from his fellow evil doers.

For once in her life, she looked rather intimidating. Buffy was over a foot taller than her adversary and after what he had just witnessed, he was terrified. “Remember me?” she queried in a hostile tone.

“I’ve never seen you in my life,” sputtered the dwarf, who whined every time the Slayer pulled on his beard.

Buffy roughly grabbed the dwarf by the head with both of her hands. She placed her forehead against his sweaty and smelly one causing him to experience the visions that had haunted her for years. He saw that she was indeed the falcon that he had maimed for his own amusement long ago. The dwarf cried out, as he knew that his doom was finally upon him.

The tussle with the dwarves was nearing its end. The elves had already begun gathering the slain and tossing their corpses into the fires that had been ignited. They deemed that it was the most befitting way to get rid of those wicked beings.

There were a few elves that day that thought what Buffy did to that dwarf was unconscionable; although most believed that it was just. She viewed the ‘man’ as the one who pulled the trigger that set off the series of events that had happened to her thereafter. Her wrath could not be quelled, for the Slayer wished to torment that creature by the harshest means possible.

She whistled in a high pitched tone, and a moment later, Kit and Kat appeared at her side. The dwarf trembled fearfully at the sight of the beasts. Kit let out a terrible roar as Kat made a hissing sound that caused the hair on the dwarf’s body to stand on end. Buffy snatched the dwarf by the beard and lifted him off the ground, as high as her arm would stretch.

“Have you met my darling kitties,” said the Slayer with contempt. “They’re ferocious beasts. Wanna see?” she asked.

“NO! NO! PLEASE!” shouted her foe.

Buffy made a couple of kissing sounds before the lions each clamped down on one of the dwarf’s legs, sinking their teeth deep into his flesh. Loud cracking noises rang out in the wooded area. The Slayer continued to hold the villain as Kit and Kat shook their heads violently, pulling at the appendages with all their might. The cries of the dwarf alerted the others to the gruesome scene that was unfolding before their eyes. Only moments later, the lions successfully removed his legs as the man continued to howl in pain. Blood spurted all over the Slayer, but she was not yet finished.

She lowered the dwarf so that he was eye level with her. His eyes had already glazed over and his face had become as white as a ghost. His life force was pooling around her feet, but he still lived. The dwarf mumbled a prayer in his native language between gasps. That disgusted the Slayer even more.

Without saying one word, Buffy balled up her fist and punched a hole into the dwarf’s chest. She gripped his still beating heart in her hand before ripping it from its cavity. The Slayer then threw his lifeless body onto the flaming heap of his kinfolk. Blood ran down her arm as he held the heart aloft, and she fell to her knees. She turned her head upwards, and allowed the stream of crimson liquid to fall into her mouth. While that may sound revolting, the Slayer was actually gathering information from the dwarf’s ‘life force.’ As the blood ran down her throat, images of the dwarf’s past life flashed in her mind. When she discovered the location of the Petty Dwarves hideout, she tossed the organ into the fire and wiped her mouth on the bottom of her tunic.

The elves stared at Buffy with shocked disbelief. None had ever witnessed someone rip out another’s heart before. Her fist had gone through his mail like butter, but her hand was wounded in the process. She remained on her knees, panting hard as the wind shifted and she became enclosed in a thick haze. That’s when the Slayer rose to her feet and sang a song of power. Dark, looming clouds appeared out of nowhere and a moment later, a torrential downpour rained down from the sky. Buffy stood there with her hands outstretched towards the heavens as the shower washed the blood off her.

“You’re hurt,” said a drenched Maglor as he gently inspected his wife’s right hand.

“I’m alright. It’s nothing,” she answered, still breathing heavily.

The elves started gathering around Buffy. “We rejoice knowing that you’re our ally and sister-in-arms,” said Maedhros as he squeezed her shoulder affectionately. “There is no doubt in my mind that you’re Morgoth’s bane.”

“Maybe,” replied the Slayer. “I guess only time will tell.” She gave him a half smile before turning her attention to her husband. “I know where the rest are hiding out… ”

“Then let us hunt them down,” volunteered Maglor.

“I need to go alone,” she answered as the rain continued to pour down on them. “You guys keep heading towards home. I’ll be back soon.” She didn’t allow any the chance to protest. Buffy kissed her beloved good-bye before vanishing with Kit and Kat.

Only moments later, she and her kitties reappeared in Western Beleriand outside the caverns on the River Narog. “Nulukkizdîn,” she said aloud. “This is the home of the Petty Dwarves.” Buffy looked at Kit and Kat. “Let’s see if these dwarves wish to live or die. C’mon.”

They passed through the chink in the rock wall and entered the darkened chamber. The Slayer waved her hand and the chamber became filled with a white light. She could hear the scurrying sound of some dwarves hiding behind the natural columns within that hall.

“Come forth, Noegyth Nibin,” she commanded. Her voice sounded powerful as it echoed throughout the entire cavernous system.

Gradually, dwarves began emerging from the dark recesses and passageways of that fortress, hundreds upon hundreds of them. She stood waiting with Kit and Kat on either side of her.

“I have killed your lord,” she finally said. “I literally killed him with my bare hands for what he had done to me. You, his people, have done great evil in this world. The time has come to pay the piper.”

“What does that mean?” asked an old gray-haired dwarf.

“It means that you are now going to suffer the consequences of your actions,” the Slayer replied, much to their dismay. “Unless… you seek my pardon. That I will grant to you under certain conditions… ”

“KILL HER!” yelled one, as he came at her with an axe.

Buffy shook her head disappointedly as the axe fell from his hand and he rose high off the ground. His quivering body then came sailing towards the Slayer, causing the others to gasp in shock. They recoiled before her.

“I can kill you, dwarf without raising my hand. I can spill your entrails all over the stone floor in a matter of seconds. I advise you to shut up and listen to my proposition, or I’ll kill everyone present. Shall I let it be your call?” The dwarf began to apologize profusely. He had never encountered anyone with such power. None of them had. Buffy let the groveling dwarf fall to the floor.

“Come with me and do my bidding and I shall reward you richly,” she proclaimed.

“We don’t have an option here, do we?” asked the old dwarf.

Buffy smiled. “No,” she replied. “You can live, if you serve me… or you all can die. The choice is yours. I’ll give you thirty minutes to discuss it amongst yourselves.” She nodded her head before leaving the cave. She sat on the ridge that overlooked the river, basking in the sunlight.

Fifteen minutes later, several dwarves exited through the fissure in the stone wall and joined Buffy. They agreed to her demands. They really didn’t have a choice, did they?

“You’ve made the right choice. Get your stuff together,” she instructed. “You’ll need lots of tools and provisions for the road. We leave within the hour.”