Full Circle

“Oh, god, Maglor!” cried out Buffy in the throes of passion. Her husband answered with a throaty moan as a wave of ecstasy swept over their glistening, intertwined bodies. He collapsed on top of her, utterly spent. She could feel his warm, shallow breath on her neck.

“Tell me, we were successful that time?” he asked breathlessly before rolling back onto his side of the bed. The Slayer was unable to respond, she was trying to catch her breath. “And you said three time’s a charm!” he added as he placed his hand on her still trembling thigh.

“Okay, so I called it wrong,” she gasped, before falling into a fit of giggles. She cuddled up against Maglor. “I recant what I said before. But it looks like our twenty-third time was the charm.”

“You are with child then?” he questioned excitedly as he turned his hopeful eyes towards his beloved wife.

“Yes, indeedy,” she said before placing a kiss on his chest. “We’ve got a bun in the oven!”

“Praise Eru!” he replied as he wrapped his arms around Buffy. “I do not nearly have the stamina that you do. I thought conceiving this child would lead to the death of me!” Maglor added with a chuckle.

She climbed on top of him and looked lovingly into his bright grey eyes. “I’d just bring you back. Remember, you’re bound to me… forever,” she planted another kiss on his chest, “and ever,” Buffy added before kissing him again.

Maglor’s smile widened. “Do I have your permission to sleep now?” he queried with a yawn. “After four times and it’s only… ” His gaze shifted to the clock on the wall. “Half past three! I need rest. You have worn me out, Maranwë!”

“Sleep, my dear Káno,” she said as she kissed him softly on the lips. “You’ve fulfilled my greatest desire, and have earned your rest,” added the Slayer before climbing out of bed.

“Do you not want to join me? Surely, you must be weary,” remarked Maglor with yet another yawn.

“I’m wide-awake,” she replied, pulling on her robe. “I feel like I’ve been re-energized.” She smiled at her beloved. “I’ll see to it that no one disturbs you.”

Maglor fluffed his pillows. “I’ve never met a woman as tireless as you,” he commented as shifted his position to the center of the bed.

“What can I say? I’m one-of-a-kind,” responded Buffy before leaving their bedroom. She caressed her belly tenderly as she made her way to the bathing chamber. The Slayer felt the life of her child at the moment of conception. Finally, she was able to choose the time when to become a mother, although it took a little longer than she had expected; Buffy and Maglor had had sex twenty-three times in the past five days.

The Slayer then summoned for her handmaidens and instructed them to prepare her bath. She decided not to tell anyone about her pregnancy until Maglor awoke. There was protocol to follow in these types of situations, and it was only appropriate that the people of the Gap should learn that joyous news from their Lord.

After bathing and dressing, Buffy headed downstairs to the kitchen. As she descended the steps, the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She turned just in time, catching the dagger that Thranduil had sent flying her way.

“I must say that you have the most extraordinary reflexes that I’ve ever seen in my life,” remarked the silver-haired elf as he climbed down the stairs, taking two at a time. “It always amazes me that you can intuitively tell when I throw something at you.”

Buffy didn’t notice that her empty hand had automatically gone to her belly. She smiled warmly at the elf. “I think you might need to hold off on attacking me unawares for a while,” she said matter-of-factly as she handed the weapon back to its owner.

Thranduil gave the Slayer a peculiar look, his eyes widened. “Oh, Bella!” he exclaimed. “You and Maglor were successful in your attempt to conceive, right?” His eyes were fixed on her stomach, which she continued to stroke lovingly.

“Shh,” she sounded as she linked his arm with hers. “Not so loud. I don’t want anyone to know yet,” she whispered. She looked around making sure that nobody had overheard his words.

“Congratulations,” he said softly as he embraced her small form. “I’m so happy for you and Maglor, really I am.”

Buffy looked closer at Thranduil. She could tell that he was putting on false airs; his eyes clearly showed both sadness and jealously. “Let’s go for a walk,” she suggested, grabbing his hand in hers. “It’s so beautiful outside today.” He reluctantly let the Slayer lead him out of the Halls. “You know, Anno and Mirë won’t be around the baby much,” she continued when they were out of earshot from the members of the Household. “They’ve got their duties to tend to in Folkvang. He’s going to need someone to look up to… a big brother… ”

“So, it’s a boy?” he queried, his grip tightening on her hand.

“Yeah, I think so,” she answered. “I expect you to play that role, Thranduil.”

He stopped. “But with the baby, you’ll love me less,” he said tearfully.

“You said the same thing when Maglor and I became betrothed, but that didn’t happen, did it?” queried Buffy.

“No,” he replied dejectedly, kicking a stone on the ground.

“So, why would that change now?” Buffy raised his chin, forcing him to make eye contact with her. “Nothing or no one will ever take away my love for you. I’ve always considered you one of my own, and that won’t change once the baby comes. I’ll even pinky swear,” she said as she held that finger aloft. He stared at her for a moment before wrapping his pinky around hers.

“I believe you,” he answered. They resumed walking before Thranduil continued. “Besides, I’m getting older and at some point in time, I’ll have to stop with all my pranks. Nothing will give me greater joy than passing my legacy for mischief onto your son.”

“That, little man, is a scary thought,” she replied with a laugh. “Just go easy on the kid. I’m sure you won’t do anything stupid like putting him in the spoon of a catapult, for example… ”

“Oh, no!” replied the silver-haired elf. “I’ve learned that lesson the hard way.” He fell quiet for a few moments. “Does this mean that we’ll be going back to Ossir soon? The Gap is alright, but I sure miss the beautiful woods and rivers of Lindon and Tol Galen,” he remarked as they both scanned the landscape with their eyes. They had returned to northern Beleriand three years ago, yet it seemed like thirty.

“I’d go now if Maglor’s willing. I do miss our home there,” Buffy replied with a sigh. “This child will be born in Ossir. That’s one thing I won’t budge on. I want him to grow up in the woods with all the animals and birds.” The Slayer shook her head. “The only time we ever see birds in the Gap are when they fly south for the winter.”

“Or if your doves come to deliver messages from Úrion,” he added with a smile. “I deem that Ossir’s the fairest of all the realms in Beleriand, even if I’ve only seen a small portion of it,” he remarked as they continued their leisurely stroll.

“I second that! I’ll even go further and say it’s the prettiest place in all of Middle-earth, and believe me, I’ve seen a lot of it,” interjected Buffy.

“But it’s not fairer than Folkvang, is it?” he asked. Thranduil really wanted to pay a visit to Buffy’s mystical realm.

“No. Folkvang is an amazing place,” she answered, glancing up at the elf. “I’ll take you there one day, but not yet.”

“Why?” he inquired.

“Because you won’t want to come back after you’ve seen it,” she responded with all seriousness. “When the time comes that you no longer wish to dwell in Middle-earth, then I’ll take you there.”

“Maybe I’m tired of Middle-earth already. Have you given that any thought?” he queried sarcastically.

“I know that’s not true, Thranduil Greenleaf! You love it here!” declared the Slayer. “I don’t blame you, I do too. I actually love Middle-earth more than any place in the world. Folkvang may be fairer, but I love the people here more. I dread the thought of leaving it.”

“It’s been a long while since you’ve last visited Sussrúmnir. I’m sure you have many fey’s waiting for your judgment,” commented the elf.

“I know, but I’m not ready. Not yet. I’ve lost so much time,” she uttered softly with a shake of her head. She deeply inhaled the cool spring air. “Anno and Mirë will keep things running smoothing until I return. It won’t hurt the men to hang tight for a while. I mean, that’s what they would be doing in Mandos.”

“I suppose you’re right, but I wonder… and I don’t mean to change the subject, Bella, but do you think that the baby will have blue skin and tentacles like your firstborn or do you think he’ll have the golden skin of the twins?” queried Thranduil in a serious tone.

It was Buffy who stopped dead in her tracks this time. She had never given thought to what she might end up giving birth to. The blood quickly drained from her face at the thought. “Oh god! Why did you have to go and say something like that?” queried the Slayer anxiously. Images of her offspring in Angband flashed in her mind. The good ones looked demonic and the demonic ones looked fair. She felt nauseous.

“I’m sorry,” apologized Thranduil as he wrapped an arm around her waist. He was concerned that she might faint. The young elf was correct in his assessment. She did.

Buffy awoke in one of the healing chambers. “How do you feel?” asked Amdir, the former healer of Himring.

“I’m okay,” she replied as she sat up. “I’m thirsty.”

Amdir turned to one of his associates. “Bring the Lady some wine,” he instructed.

“NO!” ordered Thranduil, who sat at the edge of Buffy’s bed. “Bring her juice… or milk.”

The Slayer shuddered at the thought of drinking milk. “Juice, please,” she requested.

Amdir looked at her for a moment. “My dear Bella, are you expecting?” the healer inquired incredulously.

“Keep your voice low, man,” hissed Thranduil. “That information is not to be revealed until the feast tonight.”

Buffy swigged down a chalice of juice before leaving the chamber. She was still greatly disturbed by Thranduil’s earlier comments about her unborn child. Now don’t look at the Slayer in a bad light - she loved all her children dearly, even Illyria, but she did wonder what kind of child she would have with Maglor.

After locking herself in one of the private sitting rooms, she fell to her knees, clasping her hands and prayed to Eru Ilúvatar. She prayed for a ‘normal’ child. She wanted the baby to possess both her and Maglor’s greatest attributes, not their flaws. Buffy didn’t want to give birth to some freakish being again. Surely, after everything that she had been through, she had earned that right. By the time she left the room, the Vala of Love felt assured that Eru would answer her prayer. She couldn’t explain it, but she knew.

A huge celebratory feast was held later that night. It was Maglor that made the announcement, much to the joy of their people. All the bells in the Gap chimed in accord when he made his proclamation; the sound traveled as far away as Himring. When Maedhros heard the harmonious ringing, he knew what it meant. He planned to leave his fortress the following morning for the Gap. There was no way on Eru’s green earth that he wasn’t going to be there for both his brother and sister-in-law. This was a momentous occasion for all the Noldor.

The following day, Maglor and Buffy sent many messengers out to deliver the news. Kit and Kat were sent to Folkvang (carrying a letter written by Káno), elves were sent to the sons of Fëanor, Finrod and Fingolfin, and doves were sent to both Ossir and the Deeper Well. Buffy decided not to share the news with those in Menegroth even though she had many friends there. If Thingol would not welcome Maglor, then he surely wouldn’t welcome his child, Buffy surmised.



After four months, Maglor finally agreed that the Household could return to Ossir. There would be no long journey this time, as Buffy demanded that she transport them by a new means - the portal. She chose to use the portal as a way of traveling to Lindecoa instead of teleportation for it was less draining on her. She had learned to master that new skill since her arrival at the Gap. Maglor was in charge there, not she, so that left her with much free time to develop her innate abilities. She couldn’t imagine what other skills she would learn over time, but anything that would be advantageous in warfare was of the greatest interest to her. Utilizing the portal was a plus as it virtually required no demand on her fey like transporting a great number of people or objects.

There was no doubt that her powers were increasing the further along her pregnancy went. She could feel it in every fiber of her being. It was like all the synapses within her body were going off at the same time, all the time. It was a most wonderful experience to the Slayer.

Nothing could have made Buffy happier than returning to the fair island of Tol Galen. They had arrived at the time of the fall harvest when much celebrating takes place. The green elves were overjoyed at the Lady’s return, especially since she was carrying the child of one of their kinfolk. It was history in the making; something that none had ever thought possible.

What made the occasion even more special for the Slayer was seeing the dwarves who happened to be guests in her home at the time. Buffy had not seen them since the deaths of Drór and Ordon, and she rejoiced in knowing that they held no animosity towards her. Surprisingly, Úrion had not been stingy when he compensated them on her behalf for their loss. Ossir’s alliance with Belegost was still intact. Grundin had now become the Lord of Belegost; his friendship with Buffy went back to her days in Doriath.

Nestor and Úrion informed the Slayer that her new halls in Lindon were nearly complete. They assured her that it would be finished by the time she gave birth (Buffy wanted her child born in the city in the trees.) In the meantime, she, Maglor and the rest of their Household would remain at Lindecoa, which the Slayer didn’t mind in the slightest.

When Buffy’s pregnancy progressed to the six month, she literally began to glow. It was very much like what she had experienced when she first discovered the Deeper Well, but this time, the faint light of her fey never faded. She teasingly referred to this condition as ‘Noldoritis’ to her husband and his kindred since the elves that had dwelt in Valinor always emitted a soft light.

It was during this time, on the cusp of winter, that the parents-to-be were alone in one of the gardens outside Lindecoa enjoying the mid-morning sunshine before the inevitable rainy season started. They often spent their time sitting beneath a towering oak or beech tree enjoying the natural beauty of the isle amongst the fragrant flowers that bloomed year round. Many birds chirped merrily in the boughs as they watched Kit and Kat playfully roll around on the ground together. It was moments like that, that the couple relished - the simple pleasures in life.

While Maglor sang and played his harp, the baby seemed to dance along inside the Slayer’s womb. The child was most active when he heard his father’s music. Buffy would spend hours on end watching the movement within her bulging belly during those ‘music’ sessions. Daddy Noldo hoped beyond hope that his son would have the same passion for music that he had, whereas Mommy Vala prayed for a mighty warrior with a gentle heart. Of course, they both desired the child to be of the non-tentacled variety. Regardless, they already loved their baby deeply and would accept him no matter how hideous his appearance.

It was on that particular day, that the Slayer discovered a whole new and most unexpected type of skill. As she talked with her beloved, he casually strummed the strings of his harp. When they had reached a lull in the conversation, Maglor leaned back against the tree with his eyes closed, and began playing with an intensity that Buffy had never witnessed before. She crawled on her knees so that she sat facing him, her legs folded beneath her. The melody that she heard totally captivated her. It was filled with such passion.

The Slayer was so moved by the music that she lifted her voice in song, which happened very seldom unless she was casting a powerful spell. Maglor’s eyes darted open when she began to sing; he felt the power in her voice and knew that something extraordinary was about to happen. Even the little one within her became still. It was then, right there between them that a single red rose crept out from the earth. Maglor continued to play in the same fervent fashion as Buffy continued to weave her spell. The stem climbed nearly two feet high before stopping, and the bud slowly opened. Never before had the rose or meril, as the elves in Middle-earth would come to call it, appeared anywhere in Arda. As the petals opened, the scent of that fragrant flower permeated the entire garden.

Both Maglor and Buffy fell silent for a moment. “Wow!” she finally exclaimed. “A rose!” She reached out for the stem when suddenly thorns sprouted out from it, biting the Slayer’s hand in a few places. “OUCH!” she exclaimed as she quickly withdrew her hand and shook it. As the droplets of blood hit the ground, several more shoots sprung out from the green grass.

“Look!” shouted Maglor in amazement. “Your blood is bringing forth more.” Sure enough, several roses began to appear. The whole thing thrilled Buffy. “What a wonderful scent it has,” remarked the Noldo as he sniffed a blossom.

“I can’t believe that I made them,” said a flabbergasted Buffy. She inspected her hand, already the tiny holes had scabbed over.

They were even more surprised on the following day when they discovered that that entire garden had become overgrown with red roses. They had intertwined with the other greenery as well as with the benches and gazebo that were situated in that area. It was a spectacular sight to behold. The rose would become the most cherished flower in Ossir, more so than the tiny blue blossom, luinil, for it was brought into the world by the Lady herself.



When Buffy reached her ninth month of pregnancy, she was ready to return to Lindon. She was quite sure that she’d be delivering her son any time despite Maglor’s protests.

“An elleth carries a child for twelve months, Bella,” he argued. “Our son will be born one year from the date of conception.”

“I’m not an elleth,” contested a very pregnant Buffy. “I’m a Vala. Besides, I delivered Illyria during my ninth month!”

Maglor furrowed his eyebrows at the mere mention of Illyria’s name. “Mark my words, you’ll carry this child for three more months,” he said resolutely.

“No way! I’m about to pop any day,” rebuffed the Slayer before teleporting herself, Maglor and their entourage of sixty elves to Lindon.

The group reappeared outside the large double doors to her new Halls. She was pleased with what she saw. Everything was built out of wood and blended into the scenery. It was the typical green elf construction with some modifications. Unlike Denethor’s former halls, this one had bathrooms with plumbing and running water but the house itself was still built around the boles of the trees. It had more open areas to it, both inside and outside. Long covered walkways and porches were found on all seven levels. There were planters of flowers and small trees scattered amongst all the chambers in the sprawling house. Nearly every room blended with the outside in some fashion or another whether it be walls of large arched windows that faced the exterior or atrium ceilings that opened to the sky above in the interior chambers. This new design allowed messengers of the winged variety to enter the house at all times.

“I don’t want to hear it,” barked the Slayer as she joined her loved ones on the porch. A gentle rain was falling on that winter morn and the sky was still quite dark.

“I told you so,” chuckled Maglor under his breath before sipping his tea.

Her husband was right once again. Buffy’s ninth month passed by without so much as a labor pain. And then the tenth month and eleventh. Those last three months were the most draining on her. All she did was eat and sleep. She was grateful that she wasn’t as huge as she was with Illyria, but she still waddled when she walked. The Slayer was more than ready for the baby to be born.

Buffy awoke on the morning of the one-year anniversary of the conception of their child. There was no longer any doubt in her mind that the child would be born sometime that day. Maglor sang a song reminiscent to ‘Happy Birthday’ to the Slayer’s bloated belly. The elves did not view a child’s life as beginning once it’s born into the world; it’s always from the moment of conception. So, in their eyes, when the child is born, it is already one year old.

The elves excitement was overwhelming. There were banners strung all over the house and great care went into the preparations for the feast that would be held after the child was born. As Buffy and Maglor made their way to the dining hall, many elves congratulated them. They were delighted to see that Gúrchim and kinfolk had made the trip to Lindon to be there for the happy couple on their special day. As they entered the dining hall, all eyes were fixed on Buffy. She stopped for a moment before everyone started applauding. It was then that her water broke all over the tiled floor.

“Eww,” said the Slayer as she moved from the puddle.

“It’s time!” shouted Maglor gleefully.

Then Buffy felt the first contraction. Nestor was by her side in a flash. “Come, Bella. Let’s get you back to bed.”

“But I’m hungry,” she whined as her husband and the healer led her to a chamber that was set up specifically for the birth (she didn’t want to have the baby in her bed!) “Can’t I have a muffin or a piece of toast or something?” she begged as they led her down the hallway.

“I suggest that you eat nothing else until after the birth,” advised Nestor.

Already a group of elves and dwarves were following them down the hallway. Some of them were still eating, which vexed the Slayer somewhat. She was really hungry!

Now, they had to wait. The contractions were ten minutes apart and painful as hell. At this point, Buffy was no longer embarrassed when Nestor peered between her legs although she could’ve done without his reports to those waiting outside the room on how much she had dilated. That seemed like way too much information for her friends to hear.

With every contraction, the Slayer either groaned loudly or cursed at Maglor. It became clear that her emotions were running high as a raging thunderstorm appeared out of nowhere. When the labor pains were two minutes apart, Nestor informed them that it was nearly time.

“I’ll see you after the delivery,” said Maglor as he placed a kiss on her forehead.

Buffy grabbed his arm. “You’re not leaving me!” she exclaimed. “You did this to me. You’re staying.”

“I have no desire to see… ” he started before he was interrupted by his wife. She was experiencing yet another painful contraction.

“Even Morgoth stayed with me,” she bellowed through clench teeth. As soon as the words came out of her mouth, she regretted saying it.

Maglor scowled at her. “How dare you mention that name!” he snarled before leaving the room, slamming the door behind him.

“MAGLOR!” she screamed. “COME BACK! PLEASE!” Tears started rolling down her cheeks. Buffy couldn’t believe how stupid she was to say something like that, especially while giving birth to the Noldo’s child.

“Relax, Bella,” instructed Nestor.

“MAGLOR!” she howled again. The door came open, but it was Úrion and Thranduil that entered, not her beloved. Their faces were pale.

They each ran to her side, holding one of her hands. “We’re here, Bella,” said Úrion. “We won’t leave you alone.”

“Why won’t he stay with me? Why doesn’t he want to see our child come into this world?” she questioned tearfully.

“Don’t pay him any mind,” said Thranduil softly as he wiped her forehead with a damp cloth. “You need to stay focused here. Everything is alright.”

Another contraction hit her causing her to squeeze her friend’s hands. It was they that screamed that time, not her.

“It’s time, Bella,” declared Nestor. Two nurses were on either side of him. “It’s time for you to push. Push for me, Bella.” Buffy did as she was instructed. Her tears mixed with her sweat. “That’s good. I need for you to do it again. Give me another big push. Come now. You can do it.”

“Maglor. Maglor,” she uttered under her breath as she pushed again.

“Here it comes, Bella,” said an excited Nestor. Buffy collapsed onto the pillows when she felt the child pulled from her body. “You’re right, Luinil, you have a son.” The sound of the baby’s cries filled the chamber.

“Is he normal?” she asked meekly.

The nurses were busily cleaning Buffy’s son. “He’s beautiful,” informed Nestor as he washed his bloody hands.

“I want to see him,” she said softly.

“Congratulations, Bella,” said Úrion and Thranduil in unison. They each placed a kiss on her forehead.

Nestor then came over carrying Buffy’s bundle of joy. “Here you go, mommy,” he said as he placed the infant in her arms.

He was beautiful. He had dark hair and his pale skin had a pinkish hue to it. His little hands were balled into fists as he continued to cry. Buffy counted ten fingers and ten toes. There were no tentacles or any other weird protuberances from his body. He looked like Maglor except that he had her eyes and mouth. He even had elven ears. He was perfect.

“Get Maglor,” she instructed Úrion. “Tell him it’s time to meet his son.” Buffy hoped that he would come in. She felt horrible mentioning Morgoth’s name. It was an unintentional slip of the tongue.

Only a few moments later, the Noldo entered the chamber. Buffy immediately started apologizing.

“Not now, Bella,” he said softly. “Let me see my son.” He took the baby from her arms. As Maglor softly sang to the infant, his squalling ceased. “He’s beautiful,” said Maglor as he placed a kiss on his son’s forehead. He looked at Buffy. “We did well,” he added with a smile. “Our little Olofinwë. It’s time for you to meet your family.” The Noldo then left the room with the baby, leaving Buffy dazed and confused.