Full Circle

Morgoth was wroth when Sauron returned to Angband without the Slayer. “Where is Melisse?” he demanded, pounding his blackened fist on the arm of his stone throne. “I told you not to come back without her.”

“My Lord,” began the Necromancer, humbling himself before Melkor. “There was an incident, an unexpected one, at that. Inanna’s half-breed son, Olofin, showed up with some type of mystical weapon, killing two of my men! I nearly didn’t get away myself.”

“He was able to break through the Bubble?” he queried with an air of disbelief.

“Yes, my Lord,” replied his servant.

“Curse him!” barked Morgoth, slamming his fist yet again. He sat there in silence for several minutes, the creases on his forehead deepening as time slowly passed by. The Dark Lord then rose from his seat and slowly descended the steps of the dais. When he had reached Sauron, he weakly asked, “What of the rumors - that my Melisse is carrying the Elf’s seed? Is that true?”

“It was. But the spawn is dead. I killed it.” A wicked grin came to the face of the Necromancer, knowing that that would please his Master.

“At least you managed to do something right,” said Morgoth with a sneer, bypassing the evil Maia for the sideboard.

“I know that you’re disappointed that I failed to bring Inanna back, but things aren’t as bleak as you think,” continued Sauron, wanting to stress the successful aspects of his task.

“How so?” queried Melkor, pouring himself a drink.

“The Elf has left her, my Lord,” answered his servant, his voice echoing within the mammoth chamber. “It seems that the son of Fëanor was not aware of Inanna’s affairs in the East. He had no knowledge of her past… dalliances with the mortals.”

“And you think that alone is cause for their union to come to an end,” uttered Melkor in reply.

“He denounced their vows, even tossing his wedding band at her feet. The Elf was quite angry by her deception, especially when it came to you, and her signing of the Covenant. Ill-pleased was he to learn that she had put their son in jeopardy.”

“I thought that the Covenant would be enough to bring her back to me,” said Morgoth after taking a sip of wine. “Why is she not here?” He turned, facing his first lieutenant with sorrowful eyes. “She’s supposed to be sitting by my side.”

“Lord, for-forgive me,” started Sauron hesitantly. “But need I remind you that Inanna has betrayed you. Not only did she decimate your forces in the war, but she attempted to imprison you in one of her mystical Orbs.” He couldn’t believe that Morgoth was still fixated on the Slayer after all she had done to him.

The Dark Lord smiled. The words of Sauron seemed to have the opposite effect from that which the Necromancer had intended.

“That is more the reason why she belongs with me. We are much alike, Melisse and I. She has demonstrated that she is both cunning and conniving, two traits that I find admirable. How am I expected to resist that?”

Morgoth then left the Great Hall, retiring to his private rooms, leaving Sauron alone within the chamber.

The Necromancer let out a sigh of relief, grateful that his Master hadn’t discovered that he had defied his orders, that he had given the Slayer the choice to remain in Beleriand or come to Angband. The last thing he wanted was for her to come back and usurp his position, as she had done before.



“Káno,” Buffy moaned groggily, slowly blinking her heavy eyes open. Her vision was hazy, her body numb. Many stars twinkled above her in the otherwise pitch-black sky. She struggled to keep her eyes open. She tried to call out for her husband again, but she was so exhausted, that only a throaty groan escaped her lips.

Luthor’s face then entered her field of vision. He was surprised that she was coming out of the enchanted sleep which he had placed on her.

“Sleep,” the old man said softly, waving his hand over her face. “Sleep.”

Buffy slipped back into her slumber, not waking again until Luthor gave the say so, some days later.

“Let us stop for the night,” said Luthor to his companions nearly an hour later. “Take us down, Kat.” The Maia shifted the sleeping Slayer in his arms, as the lioness began her descent from the darkened sky. Despite the solemn mood of the travelers, a smile came to the old man’s face as he watched both Nestor and Thranduil clinging to Kit for dear life. Neither elf was accustomed to riding atop the lion, especially a few hundred feet above the ground. If not for their love and devotion to Buffy, both would be riding on horseback along with the rest of the Household.

Olofin, traveling in falcon form, circled high above his companions, acting as lookout, in case Morgoth attempted to waylay the group on their journey. Once his loved ones had safely landed, he joined them, nose-diving at great speed before pulling out of the freefall only a feet above the earth. He then changed back into his elvish form and began to help the others as they set up camp.

Thranduil took the first watch, which was uneventful until three o’ clock that morning. The Green-elf was sitting with his back against a laurel tree, softly singing a popular hymn of Inanna. He was looking up at the glimmering stars of Varda Elbereth when he caught a quick movement from out of the corner of his eye. He immediately turned his gaze toward Buffy, who had now vanished from her makeshift bed of blankets.

“She’s gone!” he shouted, waking the others. “Bella’s vanished!” Thranduil jumped to his feet in a state of panic.

“Calm down, my good elf,” said Luthor calmly, shifting to a sitting position. “It must be three. Bella has been summoned to Sussrúmnir. I’m sure that one of the Valkyries will make an appearance shortly.”

“Luthor’s right,” agreed Olofin, placing his hand on the spot from where his mother had disappeared. “I sense nothing amiss, although I deem that mother’s maidens will be confused as to why their Mistress has been placed in an enchanted sleep.”

“I hope they do not lift the spell,” said a deeply concerned Nestor, his eyes fraught with worry. The healer feared that Marduk might lift his dark magicks, allowing Buffy’s powers to return while under great distress. Having witnessed the catastrophic events that had taken place in Eridu, he was in total agreement with Luthor about placing a spell on the Slayer, keeping her in a mystical sleep until the proper time had arrived to wake her.

No sooner then he had said that, Vórëa, Rainë and Laurië appeared with looks of dismay on their faces.

“What has happened to Maranwë?” asked Vórëa, looking to Luthor for answers. “Istahiro says that she has lost the baby. How could such a thing happen?”

“Sauron is the culprit responsible for that despicable deed,” replied the old man, a flicker of anger flashing in his brilliant blue eyes.

“What?!” exclaimed the ladies in unison, looking at one another with shocked expressions.

Rainë broke down in tears, as did Laurië. Both women threw their arms around each other, each trying to comfort the other. Vórëa suppressed the urge to cry along with her sisters. She needed to keep it together so that she could gather the facts to take back to those waiting in Folkvang.

“And why is it that she’s been placed in an enchanted sleep? Istahiro does not know whether he should wake her or not.”

“Do not let him lift that spell!” cried out Nestor, his anxiety mounting at the thought.

The Valkyrie shifted her gaze to the elf. She considered his words for a moment, turning her attention back to Luthor who had resumed speaking.

“If you would have spoken with Failo, he could’ve given you the answer,” said the old man, gesturing for the women to take a seat on Buffy’s vacated blankets. Once the Valkyries had sat down, Luthor continued. “The beast inside Bella was beginning to manifest itself, and I had no other alternative but to put your Mistress in a deep sleep to prevent that from happening.”

“You are telling me the end of the tale,” said Vórëa, searching the old man’s eyes with her own. “I wish to hear the events from the beginning.”

Luthor glanced at his companions, who nodded their heads encouragingly, as the Maia began the story from the beginning. He told the women of Sauron’s sudden appearance at the Gap, how he had used the Bubble to prevent any from stopping the Necromancer.

“He revealed many things that we had kept secret all these years,” disclosed Luthor, his voice a mixture of sadness and anger. “Things better left unsaid. Sauron made a point to bring all this up in front of Maglor and numerous Noldor.” The women gasped upon hearing that. “We were then informed of a document that Bella had signed during Dagor i Thelaith Thrynin, stating that in return for Morgoth’s aid, she would produce him a child… The document was signed in her own blood.” The old man paused for a moment, choking back his own tears. “There was a clause in the document, that if Bella did not comply, than her children’s lives would be forfeit. She refused to return to Angband, and Sauron claimed the Covenant’s first victim.”

“No!” cried out Laurië, shifting her gaze to Olofin. “Surely, Luinil must have been bewitched to sign such a thing!”

Rainë shook her head, tears spilling down her face. “An oath signed in blood is irrevocable,” her voice breaking as she spoke.

“Indeed,” answered Luthor. “I do not believe that Bella knew of that clause when she signed it, and I would not put it pass Morgoth to have added it at a later time. But the bottom line is that the doom of the children of Maranwë Luinil in now in effect, and cannot be undone by magics that any here possess.”

“Things are graver than I had originally thought,” said Vórëa, nervously picking the fibers from the blanket. “What are we to do?”

“We’re taking Bella back to Ossir,” replied the old man. “You must advise Sargon that he must stop summoning her back to Sussrúmnir until we figure things out. Her body must heal from the trauma it has sustained, and we feel that Lindecoa is the best place for her to be right now.”

“Yes,” chimed in Thranduil. “The further away from Angband she is, the better off we’ll all be.”

“If that’s the case, then she should remain in Folkvang,” declared Vórëa. “There, the healing process with hasten.”

“That choice should be hers, not ours,” answered Luthor.

“It is foolishness to leave her here, susceptible to the guile of Morgoth,” continued the Valkyrie chieftain. “Not only that, but Olofin should come back with us as well… And we should immediately send some of our sisters to Eridu to collect the Oracles before the Covenant claims them.”

“Mother should remain here in Beleriand,” proclaimed Olofin, who had remained quiet since the Valkyries had arrived. “My father left her in a manner that breaks my heart. He does not wholly understand all that has happened, and, in time, will be convinced that he needs to hear her side of the story. If mother is not in Ossir when that time comes, her sorrow with be even greater.

“Bring her back at once, Vórëa,” he stated firmly. “This is not a matter for debate. If mother wishes to return to Folkvang after she is awakened, then so be it. But the choice must be hers, not yours, or ours.”

“But, my Lord,” said Rainë imploringly, taking Olofin’s hand. “Your life is in peril whilst you remain in Middle-earth. Come to Folkvang where the Dark Lord knows not the location. There we can harbor you from the doom that has fallen upon you and your siblings. Melkor cannot touch you there.”

“I do not wish to leave Beleriand even if my actions put my life at risk,” answered the half-elf, patting the distraught woman’s hand. “I shan’t cower from the Dark Lord, no matter how great he is. I, too, have the blood of the Valar in my veins, and possess the gifts born onto those of my mother’s race. I do not fear death. I only wish to protect my mother, to be there for her.

“Now, my dear women, please return to Folkvang, and bring back nana. Tell Sargon that we will inform him when mother is fit to return to Sussrúmnir to carry out her sacred duties. Until then, she will remain in Ossiriand.”

The Valkyries nodded obediently before disappearing in the blink of an eye.

A few minutes later, the trio returned with their sleeping Mistress. They laid her down on a makeshift bed before leaving. All the Valkyrie chieftains returned only a moment later, in spirit-form, having decided that they would accompany the travelers until they had reached Lindon safely.

At first light, the Maia took the Slayer in his arms, and climbed onto Kat, while both Thranduil and Nestor mounted Kit. Olofin changed into falcon form before all ascended into the misty morning sky. Holding his beloved Bella tightly in his arms, Luthor glanced over his shoulder, looking towards the north. Although the old man couldn’t see them, he knew that Buffy’s Household was not far behind.

Luthor shifted his gaze back down to the Slayer’s pale, emotionless face. His heart ached for her loss, for her pain. She looked so frail. Tears began to form in his eyes. He had not had the chance to grieve over her loss.

“How is she, Luthor?” asked Vórëa, who flew alongside Kat in spirit-form.

“She’s still in an enchanted sleep,” answered the old man brusquely, attempting to hide his tears from the woman.

“There’s no need to bite my head off!” replied the Valkyrie, putting some distance between her and Luthor.

The following day, they arrived at Lindon. The unexpected appearance of his friends shocked Orchal, although his shock quickly turned to sorrow when he learned what had befallen the Slayer.

The Valkyries departed Ossir, knowing that Ulmo would see to it that nothing happened to the Slayer while she was in the Land of the Seven Rivers. After spending one night in Lindon, the small group continued on their journey south, traveling by ship so that Orchal and many others from Lindon Hall could accompany their friends to Tol Galen.

After Luthor had put the Slayer to bed, her loved ones kept a bedside vigil. For two weeks, she remained in her enchanted slumber before all decided that it was time to wake her. Knowing that the Slayer would be an emotional wreck upon waking, Luthor had Nestor prepare a sedative to keep her in a calmed state.

“Before I lift the spell, I want to remind you all that Bella’s memories of the tragedy will be fresh in her mind,” started the Maia. “To her, it will feel as though she has just experienced,” he paused, “the loss. She must not be left alone, not even for one moment. We must shadow her every movement.” The old man glanced at Buffy’s peaceful, sleeping form, caressing the soft skin of her hand.

The men watched as Luthor softly called Buffy’s name repeatedly, rousing her from her mystical sleep.

“Káno,” she whispered drowsily, her eyelids fluttering open.

“It’s Luthor, Bella,” said the old man, lovingly stroking her forehead.

Before Buffy could say another word, Nestor put a cup to her lips, forcing her to drink the sedative he had prepared. Her eyes scanned the room and the many faces of those that sat around her bed. Realizing that she was in Lindecoa, the Slayer spluttered, spraying the tonic on those seated close by.

“My baby!” she cried out breathlessly, attempting to rise from the bed.

“Relax,” said Luthor in his most soothing voice, as he and Olofin restrained her. Nestor dabbed the dribble from her chin with a handkerchief, anxious for the sedative to kick in.

At first, Buffy thought that she had been dreaming, a horrific dream, but a dream nonetheless. Seeing herself in Ossir meant that it was real, that everything that had happened at the Gap was no mere figment of her imagination.

“My baby!” she exclaimed again, reaching for her stomach. The hardness that she had felt prior to her sleep was not there, only the flabbiness that one gains from pregnancy. Her eyes welled with tears, as the events that had transpired played out in her mind. “Olofin!”

“I’m here, nana,” answered her son, taking her other hand tightly in both of his. He kissed it before repeating, “I’m here.”

“The… the baby’s gone,” she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. The look of sorrow in her son’s eyes confirmed that her worst fears had come true. She tightly closed her eyes, as the tears streamed down her face.

“I’m sorry,” answered Olofin, desperately trying to keep his emotions in check.

“Everything will be alright, Bella,” said Luthor reassuringly. “Your loved ones are here. We’ll help you get through this.”

“Káno,” she sniffled. “Káno left me.”

“Adar is in Himring,” answered Olofin. “He needs time to think, nana. That’s all.”

“No,” she cried, opening her eyes once again. “He hates me. He’ll never forgive me.”

“Never is a mighty long time,” said Thranduil with a forced smile, leaning over Buffy’s outstretched legs. “You always say, never say never.”

“Thranduil’s right,” added Olofin. “We’ll get through this. Right now, you need to concentrate on getting better.”

“Things will never get better,” said Buffy between sobs. “I… I want to be alone.”

Everyone’s gaze turned to Luthor. “Alright, Bella,” answered the old man. “We’ll be just outside in the sitting room.” He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, before getting to his feet.

“Call if you need me,” said Olofin, kissing his mother on the forehead.

Once the men had left the room, they could hear Buffy bawling, bringing those nearest and dearest to her to tears.

For many hours, the Slayer sat alone within the confines of her chamber, weeping. When she found herself unable to shed any more tears, she sat beside the northern window, slowly rocking back and forth in her chair, contemplating what she should do next. Should she go to Himring and explain her side of the story to Maglor? Should she seek vengeance against Morgoth and Sauron by waging war against the Dark Lords? Should she flee to Folkvang, allowing time to pass swiftly by, coming back decades or maybe even centuries later?

None of those options seemed appealing to Buffy. She had to face the consequences of her many lies, no matter how painful that would be. She cursed herself for so eagerly signing the Covenant long ago. Why hadn’t she read the document in its entirety before signing in blood? She already knew the answer to that question. She feared that the race of man would be wiped off the earth. Their numbers had dwindled dangerously low during the war, and she had needed help to end the conflict in the East. Yet it seemed so cruel that her unborn child had to pay for something that she had done. It wasn’t right. It was wrong on so many levels. She couldn’t believe that Ilúvatar could allow such a thing to happen. Why? Why had he let that happen?

When Nestor entered carrying a tray of food and more medicine, Buffy took the sedative but refused to eat. The dopey calmness that the elixir provided was much needed. The last thing she wanted was for her emotions to run amok, turning her into a rampaging monster.

Once the healer had left the chamber, the Slayer poured herself a glass of wine, drinking it as she paced across the cool marble floor. After downing a few more glasses of the crimson beverage, she knew what she needed to do. Feeling slightly buzzy, she sat down at her desk, and penned a letter to the twins, explaining what had happened at the Gap and the doom that now lay upon her surviving children.

She didn’t stop with that one letter. She wrote three more: one to Marto, one to Lutz and even one to Marduk, pleading with the men to protect the twins at all costs. Buffy then summoned Vórëa, who appeared suddenly within the chamber. She handed the letters to the Valkyrie and instructed her to deliver them to the recipients as quickly as possible.

The Slayer then returned to her seat by the window, watching as the sunlight gradually faded, taking with it all hope of resolving her life’s dilemma. As the darkness settled about the land, it seemed to find its way into her heart, bringing with it even greater despair.

As Lindon Hall fell silent, she returned to her bed. Feeling her eyes well with tears, Buffy grabbed one of the pillows, clutching it tightly to her chest. Burying her face in the cushion, she wept. The anguish of losing her child was hard enough, but having to deal with that pain without her beloved Maglor by her side made it ten times worse. How would she ever get through this?

Buffy then found herself cradling the pillow in her arms, causing her to howl in anguish, until sleep finally took her.

The following morning, she entered a state of mourning. After she had bathed, her maidens dressed her entirely in black, including a lacey veil that covered her face. She wandered the passageways alone; unaware that many of her loved ones were lurking about, watching her closely, fearing that she might do something foolish.

None followed when the Slayer entered the chamber that contained her Mirror. She had not visited that room for many years, yet she seemed to have been drawn to it in her wanderings. Grabbing the ewer, she scooped out water from the cistern, filling the basin. Buffy managed to expel enough breath through the fabric of her veil to send ripples along the water’s surface. Wisps of vapor rose from the bowl before dissipating a few moments later. She then waited for whatever image was to appear in the Mirror.

She was taken aback when she saw the face of Melian looking back at her. The Maia’s lips were moving, but Buffy could hear no sound. It seemed like ages since she had last seen her old friend and mentor. Her heart beat wildly in her chest at the image alone. Without even thinking, the Slayer reached into the water, eager to touch Melian. She felt the woman’s arm, before grasping it tightly. She then heaved on the appendage, pulling the Queen of Doriath out of the Mirror. The Slayer wrapped her arms around the legs of the Ainu, who stood within the basin, shocked beyond words. Buffy then carefully lifted the woman, placing her on the marble floor.

They stood there in silence for several long moments, each searching the other’s eyes. Neither spoke one word, yet each woman was able to perceive what had happened in the other’s life since they had last spoken long ago. Melian finally broke the silence. She fell to one knee out of her profound respect for the Slayer.

“My Lady,” she began. “Forgive me for not coming to you before now. I’ve spent much time in front of my Mirror, waiting for you. I most humbly apologize for my ignorance.”

“You don’t ever have to apologize to me,” answered Buffy, stunned by the Queen’s behavior. She grabbed the woman by the elbows, bringing her upright.

“I’ve should have seen it,” continued Melian, tears forming in her grey eyes, as she slowly shook her head. “When word reached me, when I had learned the truth… ”

“What are you talking about?” asked Buffy, her face wrinkled with confusion.

“You are the Vala, Maranwë Luinil,” replied the Queen, meeting the Slayer’s gaze. “I should have seen it, but I didn’t.” She turned her shameful gaze to the floor. “How could I not see that you were the Vala of Love, whom I had served millennia ago?”

Buffy gently lifted the Ainu’s chin, and gave her a reassuring smile. “The Valar had placed a Veil on me, Melyanna. That you know well. Don’t you ever apologize for anything that you’ve done. It’s not necessary.”

“But I did not stay with you,” cried Melian, her tears flowing freely. “I wanted to enter Eä with the others. I wanted to wander in the world that we had created, that we had brought into being… I’ve shown my disloyalty to you by doing so, and for that I should never be forgiven.”

“That is absolute nonsense!” countered the Slayer, cupping the Maia’s tear-streaked cheek with her hand. The words seemed to fly from Buffy’s mouth without thought to what she was saying. “I am the one who had rescinded my earlier design, and I’m solely to blame for that. You did nothing wrong, Melyanna. Your destiny was to enter Eä along with the others of our kindred. I couldn’t come. I did not want to come.” Buffy dropped her hand to her side, and walked over to one of the windows, staring at the fair gardens below. She then continued to speak, her tone softer than before. “I had instructed my Household to enter this world, promising that I’d follow.” She solemnly shook her head, her green eyes glistening with tears. “I couldn’t. I knew what was in store for me when I entered Arda: pain and sorrow, the like I’ve never experienced before.

“Eru answered my prayer, for a time, even allowing Tulkas to come in my stead, ages later.” She turned, facing the Maia. “How could I leave the bliss of the Timeless Halls for this world? How could I come knowing that my presence would make things worse? How could I be forced against my will to come?” Her words seemed to reverberate within the mammoth chamber.

“No,” countered Melian, rushing to Buffy’s side, lovingly taking her hands in her own. “You are the embodiment of love, and much needed in this world.”

“I’ve brought more evil into this world since my arrival. That, you do not know about.” The Slayer took a deep breath. “I’ve been with Melkor, Melyanna. Like before, when the world was not yet made,” she whispered. “I helped him. I helped him create monsters more dangerous than the yrch and Balrogs that will soon be unleashed in these parts. I am a contributor to the hate and malice that spreads like a plague throughout Middle-earth. I’ve lost my way more times than I care to say. I’ve failed. I can’t do it. I can’t maintain the balance. How can I, when such evil lurks within me? It’s a part of me.”

Melian tried to protest but the Slayer wouldn’t let her.

“You call me the embodiment of love, but you’re forgetting some of the darker aspects of love - like obsession and possessiveness. Those too are elements of love. I guess that’s Melkor’s marring of me, for now love is mingled with hate, and pleasure is mixed with pain. There are two sides to everything, one good, and one evil. That is what I’m the embodiment of - the best and the worst that love has to offer.”

“No, that is not true,” said Melian, vehement in her pronouncement. “I cannot believe that Melkor has marred you in the same manner as he has Arda. It’s about the choices we make, Maranwë, the path we choose to tread down… ”

“I don’t think so, Melyanna,” answered Buffy, a tear escaping her eye. “I don’t think we get a choice. Ilúvatar’s children may get to choose, but we, the Ainur, do not. We never get to choose. Eru’s designs are constant, and our fates are predestined. I have done things that I knew were wrong, yet I did them. I couldn’t help myself. How could that be freewill? How could I so easily stray from the path of righteousness? How could I fail at everything that I’ve attempted since coming here? Things that I have started well turn disastrous in the end: my glorious reign in the East, my marriage… My God, Melyanna, I couldn’t even carry my child to term! I even failed as a woman. Do you know how that makes me feel?” Buffy didn’t allow the Maia time to answer before replying to her own question, “Worthless. I feel hollow, empty.

“Oh, Melyanna,” cried out Buffy clutching her old friend. “I feel dead inside.” She buried her face in Melian’s chest, sobbing uncontrollably.

“It’s not true. It’s not true,” said Melian, crying along with Buffy, as both women collapsed to the floor. “This is the evil of Melkor at work. Nothing more. That’s all it is. We do have a choice.” She held the Slayer, rubbing her back. The Maia spent the next quarter of an hour doing her best to convince the Vala that the hopelessness that she was feeling would soon pass.

“Now that I know the truth, let me rejoin your House,” sniffed the Queen of Doriath, wiping away her tears. “Let me follow you as I had before.”

“No,” answered the Slayer, drying her eyes from beneath her veil. “Your place is in Doriath with your family, not with me.”

“But now that you are here… ”

“My dear, Melyanna,” sighed Buffy, taking the Maia’s trembling hands in her own. “You’re now in the service of Vána and Estë, as it was fated to be. You’ve done all you can for me, and for that, I will forever be indebted to you. You helped me when no one else would. You took me into your home, nurtured me, and taught me so many things that have helped me on my life’s journey. I’ve never thanked you properly for that.”

“Bars of gold and silver seemed a fine way to express your gratitude,” smiled Melian, remembering the gifts that the Slayer had presented to her Lord centuries earlier.

“Ah, but that was more for Thingol than for you,” laughed Buffy, trying to lighten the mood. “What can I do for you? What can I do to prove that my love for you is undying, to reward you for your faithfulness to me even when you were unaware of what you were doing?”

“There is naught to ask that you have not already done,” answered the Queen knowingly. “You have delivered mankind from great evil, setting in motion events that will be renowned in song for ages to come. My beloved Luinil, by bringing the Edain into Beleriand, you have ensured that the line of Lúthien will carry on through the younger children of Ilúvatar.” She smiled. “How can one top that?”

“By never letting your bloodline fail,” answered Buffy, tightening her grip on the woman’s hands. “I will see to it.”

“That is indeed something to rejoice about, although it will come with much sorrow.”

“Nothing in this world is for free,” answered Buffy dismally.

“Let us not speak of things to come, for that does not yet concern us,” said Melian with an air of finality to her tone. “Let us deal with your grief, for that is what brought me to you in the first place.”

The Maia sat cross-legged across from the Slayer, holding her hands loosely in her own. They locked eyes before Melian lifted her voice in song, singing one of her enchanting melodies that had to ability to ease one’s suffering.

Buffy’s loved ones, who stood on the other side of the door with their ears pressed against the wood, gasped when they heard the mellifluous voice of the Queen of Doriath. The sweet sound lifted their spirits, renewing their hope. Anxious to behold the one wielding such magics, Luthor opened the door wide enough for several heads to pop into view. They saw the two women seated at the base of the Mirror, silver particles of glowing light emitted from Melian, filling the room with a magic that instantly dulled the aching within their hearts.

“Melian,” whispered an awe-stricken Orchal, who had never witnessed that type of magic from the Maia Queen.

Olofin smiled at the sight, knowing that the only one that Buffy had ever identified as a mother figure had arrived to help her with the healing process. He motioned for the others to give the women their privacy, before the door quietly closed once again. Feeling a sense of relief, the men had decided that they no longer needed to follow the Slayer in secret. They knew that once she had left that room, they would not have to worry about her doing anything foolish, or stupid.

Melian remained in Lindecoa for a couple of days, since Thingol was still abroad with Mablung, hunting in the Forest of Region. The Maia met, for the first time, three of the most important men in Buffy’s life: Olofin, Luthor and Thranduil. The Queen of Doriath took an immediate liking to the Slayer’s youngest child. She referred to him as “the pride of the line of Finwë,” a compliment that meant a lot to Buffy, especially after hearing her dear friend’s words of warning regarding the sons of Fëanor.

The Queen of Doriath’s visit had eased Buffy’s sorrow, yet she continued to mourn the loss of both her unborn child and Maglor. Yet as the days passed by, she became more determined to win her way back into her husband’s good graces. She would pursue him to the ends of the earth, if need be. Little did she know that in doing so, she would open herself up to even greater heartache. In times to come, she would be confronted with many hard realities, hard realities that would shake her to the very core of her being. And that her choices would not only affect the course of history but would cause strife within the House of Fëanor.