Like Silver Glass

Rating: T, for torture, adult content and adult themes; this is a dark drama. Though it does have happy moments, most of it is not a shiny, happy story.

Teaser: She lost everything… her love, her life, her family… now she's in danger of losing her soul.

Summary: Faith sent Buffy away using her demonic contacts, one that landed her literally in the sea of hell. Trapped, furious, in Dol Amroth, Buffy silently plots the demise of her sister Slayer. But after a daring escape from her prison, she's trapped by the dark foes of Sauron. After months of torture at the hands of her captors, her only salvation comes in the form of the son of the Steward of Gondor…

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon. The 'Lord of the Rings' book series belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien. The plot is our own.

Notes: He's home, he's home, my brother is home! Despite the good and bad, there is always hope for tomorrow!

x-x-x

Chapter 5

By Katrina Claire

x-x-x

Prince Imrahil moved throughout his quarters, his eyes seeking a figure that was usually lurking about this complex. When he did not readily find his counsel he found himself growing frustrated. He half-considered sending one of his hands after his counsel but decided against it. This was a matter he needed to bring to her alone.

He first recalled meeting his counsel. He was quite young when she first brought counsel to his father. She was from the Woodland Realm and had traveled to the Grey Havens with her kin. Unlike her kin, however, she did not board the ship to pass into the West. She remained behind and traveled the western borders of their world, ending up finally in Dol Amroth. There she had dwelt since. He knew little of her past save her father had been killed in a battle years before. She was wise and slow to trust and even less than forthcoming than he was in welcoming strangers to this land. He trusted her judgment above his own sons and for that, he was grateful. He really needed her counsel now when figuring out what to do with his wife's newest pet project his family had been dragged into.

"What concerns you, my Prince?" a voice asked softly from behind him. Imrahil turned to see the figure moving behind him. As always, she appeared curious. She was always curious as to the dealings of men and war. Perhaps because she had served in Lindon for many years did she forget the trials of her own people. Her own father had died at the War of the Last Alliance along with much of his army.

"I have a matter which concerns me greatly," Imrahil replied, sitting at his table. The maiden followed him, sitting across. "A girl was brought to us. She hails from some distant land. Her skin is dark, but she is fair. She cowers at the might of my knights. She was gravely wounded by now sustains but a scratch. Ai, the fortunes of my people long since gone… what evil does this girl possess? We must know, for if she is advancement of some army…"

"She came alone, you said?" the Elf maiden replied, undercutting his words. "Where is she?"

"She's in the halls of healing, under the care of my son Erchirion and of Lindariel."

"You are kind to take such a burden," she replied. "Though one can be dangerous, did you sense deception from her?"

"I am not certain as to what I sense from her," Imrahil said with frustration. "We have seen this deception before."

"I sense nothing of danger," the Elf maiden said. "I feel frustration and anger… the anger runs deep. It is not against you or your family, my Prince. This anger is justified by reason, for vengeance."

"You have not laid eye nor hand on her," Imrahil murmured. "Surely you cannot sense just this—"

"I feel this and more," she said, smiling slightly at the expression on his face. "I will see her. I must see her. How long has she been—"

"Mere days," Imrahil sighed. "Already she has confounded my son, charmed her way to him."

"That you have not seen before," the Elf teased.

Imrahil rolled his eyes towards her. "It is my wish to know of her purpose here."

"Why do you assume that all men, or women for this case, have a purpose to be anywhere?" she asked him. "Too long would you assume her purpose was for evil, but what if there was little purpose at all? She came to seek your protection, perhaps. She has forgotten who she is, maybe. You cannot reason with the logic that she brings evil. You will tear yourself apart with those thoughts. Have you not thought to welcome her to Dol Amroth? Have you a name for her or is she stranger to Gondor now?"

"You speak much, but you do not know the evils I have faced," Imrahil responded.

"I have seen many evils, my Prince," the Elf replied, darkness falling before her bright eyes. "When Sauron's strength was fullest, I saw those evils. For many years I watched my people suffer and die…" No sooner had the darkness come did it pass. "You must have faith, my Prince. Not every guest brings evil, least of all a woman."

"He has used women against us before," Imrahil reminded her. "You served my father. You know of the circumstances."

'I do, but I will not be quick to judge," the Elf pressed, rising to her feet. "Hope has forsaken these lands. They grow weak like the men who carry the burden upon their shoulders. Not everything must be in darkness."

"Where are you off to?" he asked, hiding his laughter as the Elf moved to the doorway.

"I have a guest to visit," she murmured, turning back to face him. "I will judge for myself on this new threat, my Prince."

x-x-x

Buffy was beyond bored, lying in her cot. She thought about moving around, but in this room there were just more cots and more tables with more medicines and more candles. The deck beyond the archways was set several hundred feet above the ground, so leaping seemed a foolish thing to do. Instead she remained inside, her thoughts darkening.

At first, there was frustration. She was trapped in a land of knights and swords of some Old Age. It wasn't something she understood. It was something she did not expect, however. She was stuck here. There was likely no way home.

Those thoughts led to darker thoughts of anger. Faith had done this to her because Buffy had beaten her. Now Buffy couldn't help her friends. Faith was there with them. For all she knew, the Mayor had ascended and was now controlling the world as a demon. Her friends were likely dead. Her mother was likely nothing more than ground-up pulp. She had no way to help them. She had no way to be certain. These thoughts led to feeling helpless.

But then the rage started. Faith had done the worst possible thing by hurting her like this. She had tried to drown her again and that was simply not acceptable. She had abandoned her to death. In Slayer code, it was unforgivable and inexcusable. She longed to be back where she belonged instead of feeling trapped and helpless where she was suspected by everyone and everything as being a traitor, a harbinger of things to come.

Even as she saw red in her anger, there was a spot of brightness. Her head turned and she blinked. In that instance, the darkness faded and she saw a figure walking towards her, clad in a dark cloak and walking stick. Long trails of golden hair contrasted brightly with the dark material as it shimmered. Even with what little skin Buffy could see, it radiated a bright glow. The figure stopped and a feminine hand reached up to pull the hood from her head.

"Peace between us this morn," the figure breathed as she stepped closer, setting her walking stick aside.

Buffy stared at her uncertainly. She felt her Slayer senses tingle to life, alerting her that this was no mere human being. In fact, this figure just screamed good-will and no evil. "Who are you?" she asked softly. She didn't want to come across as terrified and froze her features. Had she been scared, she would have run across the room.

"You speak the common tongue," the woman replied, pleased. It was then Buffy noticed her ears. They were larger than most and tipped. The woman seemed aristocratic somehow… taller, more steadfast on her feet. Her posture was near perfect and she stood with the confidence of a woman and a warrior. Buffy felt as though her breath had been taken away. She didn't need to speak with a group of men with swords to explain her point across. She knew a warrior when she saw one. Despite her bright, cerulean eyes, there was a darkness there not even immortality could hide. "This will make it simple."

"What will make this simple?" Buffy asked warily, eyeing the woman with caution. Despite the fact she seemed a warrior, it didn't make it easier to confess her identity.

The woman sat on a stool. "Do you not know what I am?"

"No."

"They call me Neäni," the woman replied. "I am of the Silvan in the old forests of Greenwood. No longer are they called such since the darkness there has endured. My true name has been lost for years."

"How old are you?" Buffy asked, interrupting her. For some reason, the woman looked her age. But there was something in this grace and poise that spoke from years of experience.

"I must say I look young for my age," Neäni replied with a soft smile. "My life is from the Second Age, but my will has endured to the Third Age. I did not take the passage west when all my kin had left. It was my choice to remain behind and for that I spent many a year in Lindon with the shipwright. I serve now in Gondor the Prince of Dol Amroth."

Buffy let her words sink in and nodded. It would make sense that the man who interrogated her was a prince.

"I have been asked by my Prince to ascertain your allegiance," Neäni said, moving her chair closer to Buffy's bedside.

"I'm not evil," Buffy said in a woolen voice.

"Perhaps not, but there are greater men who follow behind you who would question those words," Neäni replied, reaching for Buffy's hand. The young woman pulled away. "Nay, my lady. Please, allow me this one courtesy. Telin le thaed."

"What?" Buffy asked, not understanding what the woman had said. The language sounded beautiful, but she had no clue what the words meant. Without a fight, however, Neäni took her hand and held it clasped between hers. Buffy was surprised; the woman was clad in a thick cloak as though chilled but her hands were warm and comforting.

"That is the language of my people, of the Elves," Neäni replied. "You awoke in the waters, yes?"

"Yes," Buffy confirmed. "I was drowning and somehow I washed up on shore."

"You have a strong heart," Neäni complimented her with a shadow of a smile.

"I should have been stronger," Buffy said bitterly, earning a sharp look from the woman before her.

"What say you?"

"I should have been stronger," Buffy repeated, fire in her gaze as she met Neäni's. "I shouldn't have let her do this to me. I should have moved, or jumped, or something… she… she…"

Neäni released her hand and sat back, curiosity flaring in her eyes. "Speak."

"There was a…foe," Buffy began, trying to simplify her words enough for them to understand. "She was trying to hurt me, trying to kill me. I tried to fight her back and I nearly won but she used… she had magic."

"Magic?" Neäni said lightly, the shadow passing before her eyes. "What magic did she possess?"

"The magic to drop me in the sea to drown me," Buffy whispered, tears of anger flaring to life within her. "But I should have been stronger! I should have moved or something to get away from her! I'm not supposed to be here. I'm supposed to be there! Everything is falling apart for them now because I'm not there!"

Neäni appeared nonplussed from Buffy's outburst and regarded the young woman calmly. "Do you speak of the south?"

"No," Buffy replied. "I speak of something else entirely."

"Do you speak of the future?"

"If I did, would I be crazy?" Buffy asked her, already anticipating the answer.

"Nay," Neäni replied with a frown. "I see no deception in your eyes, but anger. Tell me, have you a name?"

"Buffy," she finally said after a long moment. She had been expecting the woman to laugh at her, probably scorn her. She hadn't expected her less-than-enthusiastic response to Buffy's confession. "My name is Buffy."

"You are no longer a stranger to me, Buffy," Neäni said kindly. "Yet you are afraid."

"Of course I'm scared," Buffy said, looking disdainfully at the Elf woman. "What do you think? I was there, I was fighting for my life and now I'm here and I'm fighting for my life. This is a different fight. I've done all I can to convince you I'm not evil. I'm not! If I was evil, I would have done something evil, right? What… what's going to happen to me?"

This is what Buffy was scared of the most. She was frightened that the moment she dropped into this world, they would slay her away from it. She thought of defending herself, but then she would be evil. She wasn't bad. She was never meant to be the bad one.

"Boe le henio," Neäni said gently, "what you must understand is… I have no power in this land. I only serve as counsel to Prince Imrahil. If you are a threat to him, it is likely you will be returned to the sea, cast in and left to drown." Seeing the light in the woman's eyes, it unsettled her. "Uich gwennen na 'wanath ah na dhín. An uich gwennen na ringyrn ambar hen."

"I'm sorry," Buffy said, slightly startled, "but that language… it's beautiful."

"This is the tongue of my fathers," Neäni replied. "I have just said that you are not bound to the darkness of this world."

"You could have just said that," Buffy smirked.

"I do not mean to quarry with words," Neäni advised. "I mean to speak my tongue which you should understand."

"That's just it," Buffy said quietly. "All day I've been hearing people screaming at me in a tongue… err, language they call common. But it isn't common, not to me. Where I come from… I guess you could say our language has degraded to petty slang and misused adjectives. I never knew that things could be this simple. And you… you have to go and make it complicated."

"There are things about this world you must understand, Buffy," Neäni said. "The people of Dol Amroth have long been protected from evil as this land is above the sea and far from the eyes of those who seek to destroy it. But this world is not a happy world. These people are not a trusting people. They have seen much of war and evil in their time and now, in their greatest hour, their strength wanes. My people once held great strength in this world but now my people leave Arda for the West."

"So… there's war," Buffy said, attempting to understand what the woman was explaining to her. "And these people have been betrayed before."

"There is war and darkness and death," Neäni said calmly. "These people have been betrayed to their death."

Suddenly Buffy knew where this conversation was headed. "I have no intention of killing anyone," she said hastily, unable to keep the frustration from her voice. "My only wish is for me to get home."

"That is but impossible now," Neäni sighed. "The magic that once bound this world is held in evil. Whichever magic let you pass to this world was created in darkness."

"I think I understand," Buffy replied. "Which leads me to my other question. What is going to happen to me now?"

"You will live," Neäni said simply. "There is no life within the Hall of Healing, less you spent your life in healing."

"Not my intention," Buffy rolled her eyes.

"This city is simple, but offers much," Neäni replied. "You will find your way, little one."

"Little one?" Buffy asked, her eyebrows rising.

"You are small, but your heart is true. I will speak of this to my Prince and he will have his final word. Now, you should rest, for you have a life to begin."

As Neäni left, Buffy stared after her in confusion. So, she wasn't evil. This woman… this Elf, or whatever she was, had told her that. She also told her that she was going to live in this city. And do what, exactly? Buffy knew her hobbies and skills were few outside the realm of destroying demons and vampires. She was a student, yes, but her interests flailed from there. She doubted that Dol Amroth had malls readily available and doubted even more the existence of night clubs and dance parties. There was nothing for her, here. There was nothing at all, save wandering the streets aimlessly and seeing nothing in return.

What was going to happen if she was granted her freedom?

x-x-x

"My Prince?"

Imrahil glanced up from the table he was seated at, his daughter by his side. "Lothíriel, will you go? I must speak with my counsel."

"Yes, father," Lothíriel said and, glancing back at Neäni with laughter, ran off into the darkness. Imrahil waited his counsel to enter as she took the seat abandoned by his daughter.

"What did your elven eyes see?"

"She is true to her word," Neäni replied. "She speaks the truth that she means you no harm. She spoke of her own betrayal which has led her to you. She is confused by your ways, it seems, and longs for home."

"Did she speak of this home?"

Neäni shook her head slightly and glanced away. "She fears what her freedom may bring. She longs for order but I sense she has nothing if she remains here."

"Could you imagine a better alternative?" Imrahil asked. "I could send her to Denethor in Minas Tirith."

"You will not," Neäni snapped back. "That man will only seek to harm her and for now, her mind is willing to learn. She found my tongue beautiful."

Imrahil snorted and turned away, pressing his hand to his forehead. "Shall I grant her freedom, then?"

"The choice is yours alone, my Prince. But I sense the need for caution. She is unsteady and unstable. If she were granted her freedom, she could easily pass from this city and fall into enemy hands."

"Do you believe she would leave these walls if given the choice?"

"I do."

"Then there's nothing else for it," Imrahil replied with a heavy tone. "I must speak with Lindariel."

"What will you do?"

"What choice have I?" Imrahil asked in a weakened tone. "I will invite her in my home."

"A wise choice, my lord," Neäni beamed up at him.

x-x-x

"Aiya!"

Buffy turned from her dark thoughts to see the same little girl from earlier standing at the end of her bed. Before she could protest, the girl bounced onto the end of the bed on her knees, giggling. "Hi, there," she said, pushing aside her blankets and moving to the little girl. The girl made a face and waved a hand in front of her nose.

"You need a bath, lady."

"I do, don't I?" Buffy asked with a sigh, staring at her grungy hair. She longed to run her fingers through silk, but the oils and grime collected seemed to make her hair heavy. "Are you sure your parents are okay with you being in here."

"Oh-kay?" the girl asked in confusion.

"Are you allowed to be in here?" Buffy asked, amending her words.

"No," the girl drew out the word, ending it with more laughter. Buffy found herself smiling despite her grim new outlook on life. The little girl was adorable. Her hair was midnight black but her eyes reminded her of the sea. She was tall, too, nearly as tall as herself if not taller. "But mum will not mind. She likes you."

"That's good to know," Buffy sighed, rising to her feet and stretching. Her skin was even looking waxy from lack of cleanliness. After seeing the Elf who simply radiated clean, she felt positively trashy.

"You speak silly," the girl replied, bouncing off the bed. Now standing next to Buffy, the top of her head came to Buffy's chin. "My name is Lothíriel."

"I'm Buffy," she said, extending her hand. The girl stared at it for a moment before looking questionably up at Buffy. "Oh, the hand, you shake it."

"Why?" Lothíriel asked, making no motion to do so.

"I don't know," Buffy replied after a beat. "I guess that's how people greet one another. How do your people greet one another?"

"Commonly with swords," Lothíriel replied, taking Buffy's wrist and shaking her hand hesitantly.

"Hmm, sounds like my kind of people," Buffy grinned. After a moment, the girl stepped away and walked to the archways, staring out. It was in that moment that Buffy saw the maturity in her face and realized that this was no little girl. "How old are you?"

"I have fourteen life years with many more to come," Lothíriel said, glancing over her shoulder with a shy smile.

"You're fourteen?" Buffy asked, blinking. "Wow…"

"Ada tells me that I grow too quickly," Lothíriel's smile grew. "He tells me to live my childhood now for when I am of age, I will be somber and old and willing."

"I highly doubt that," Buffy said, folding her arms to her chest. "You've got a lot of spunk."

"Spunk?" Lothíriel asked, confused. "Your words confuse me, Buffy. You speak far more than you need to."

"I like words," Buffy said defensively and was about to retort when someone cleared their throat behind them.

"Ai," Lothíriel muttered, her face falling. "Father..."

"When I said for you to go, Lothíriel," Imrahil said, stepping into the hall and glancing around cautiously as though he expected the walls to collapse in on them, "I never meant for you to come here."

"I am sorry, Adar," she said, that shy smile back on her face. "But she is a guest and we are kind to guests, are we not?"

His face seemed to relax as she regarded his daughter. "We do. In fact, we are so kind to guests that sometimes we release them from this Hall." His eyes turned to Buffy, who was staring at him carefully. "My counsel has informed me that you do not pose a threat to my family. Nevertheless, it would seem wise to offer lodging and perhaps guidance while you live in this city. We ask that you stay within the walls, but you are free to leave this Hall."

Lothíriel gasped and turned to her father. "Ada, you said that you would—"

"Yes, he did," came Lindariel's voice as she rushed in behind her husband, glancing at him in annoyance. "Buffy, we have prepared a room for you. Consider this a gift in exchange for our… pleasantries."

"Well," Buffy faltered.

"Have you friend or family with whom you could stay with?" Lindariel asked her.

"No…"

"Have you a safe house to sleep at and food to eat?"

"Not really," Buffy admitted, her face turning red.

"Do you know that you are in Gondor, a large country and the land between here and Minas Tirith in is enemy hands?"

"No."

"Then you shall remain here," Lindariel surmised. "Had you a proper place to sleep and rest, I would have released you from my care. Lothíriel, if you could show her the guest room, I will have a bath prepared." She turned to her husband who stood there gnashing his teeth and looking mutinous. Her lips twitched in amusement. "Imrahil, darling, come with me." The man sighed and followed behind his wife without a word. Buffy stood for a moment, confused as all hell when she heard a squeal and two skinny arms flung themselves around her.

"A sister have I asked for and a sister have I received!"

"Oh," was all Buffy could muster.

The next few minutes was a whirlwind. She left the archway and the Hall of Healing behind only to find herself in a huge stone structure with old marble floors, statutes in every hallway and doors made from incredibly old and heavy wood.

"That room will be yours once it is prepared," Lothíriel said, nodding at one set of double-doors near the end of a corridor. "My room is there." She pointed down the corridor towards a fork. "This is the room for your bath." Pressing her ear to the heavy wood, she frowned. "Naneth speaks… your bath may not be ready." Her eyes suddenly glistened as she viewed a set of doors at the end of the fork. "Come with me."

Buffy, who had been unable to speak for the past half hour, followed dumbly behind her.

"This is the best," Lothíriel said, turning to Buffy with a keen smile. Buffy tried to force one on her own, but Lothíriel frowned. "You are not pleased to be here."

"I'm just… a little overwhelmed."

"A little?" Lothíriel accused, her eyes darkening. "My parents have done you a great service. They have taken you in. Would you rather be a beggar, pleading for space to sleep with the dogs? Would you rather live on the ships at the mercy and amusement of lonely men? The life chosen for you is much more than the life you could choose for yourself. This land is kind compared to others. Come," she said, pushing the door open with her hip, "this you must see."

The door led to a deck and the deck was a precipice. Buffy followed her out, blinking into the sunlight. Her eyes quickly grew to the light and she looked around in amazement. The air was warm on her skin and the sunlight seemed to revitalize her. Her lips parted into a smile as she saw white birds streaking across an endless blue sky scattered with wispy clouds. She breathed in the salty air and closed her eyes against the endless sun. The sea which had nearly claimed her life remained in the distance, stretching to the horizon and beyond. Houses with thatched roofs lined the streets below which were made of cobblestones. She heard the sounds of laughter and shouting, all in a language she didn't understand but suddenly wasn't too unwilling to learn.

Next to her, Lothíriel smiled at her expression. "This amazes you?" she asked softly.

"This isn't bad at all," Buffy admitted, shaking her head as she felt tears misting to her eyes. For a moment, she could pretend that none of this was real. But who was she kidding? Of all places to end up, this wasn't so bad.

For a moment, she could even call it home.

x-x-x

Next: Montage

Note: I never realized how slowly this story moves. I was just trying to set up this back story when I realized it could all be done in the future. So instead of forcing you through more chapters of this ho-hum lifestyle, I'm adding that this next chapter is definitely the last of the angst-free because after that… bring on the pain. I haven't written anything painful in a long while, so this I'm looking forward to.

Thanks for reading!