The Return of the King

Disclamer: See chapter one.


























April 1/4 Tuile 3019 III Age




Arwen kept her position near the door to Buffy's room, Legolas' hand on her shoulder reassuring her as much as it could given that no one, not even Gandalf had been able to enter the room for over a full day. Some force was preventing any from entering and it worried her. After a great deal of debate the others had gone to prepare for the battle that Aragorn had decided upon, leaving her to keep watch for any change.

Which she had been doing for several hours alone until her betrothed had come to offer her what comfort he could in silence as she worried. Gandalf had told them that it was Buffy's ring, Narya that was preventing all from entering but no one knew why or how or even what was happening within the room. One small part of her feared that Buffy had finally succumbed to death but she resisted the thought. If Buffy had truly fallen she believed she would have felt it, her bond to her kinswoman stronger that any others save her daernaneth's.

But if it was not Buffy's death that was preventing their entrance into the room then she did not know what it could be.

And it worried her. For it was not only Buffy who was within but Aragorn as well.

But until it passed there was aught they could do but wait and hope.







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April 2/5 Tuile 3019 III Age




It was the feeling of burning that brought him to consciousness, the pain in his hand the one that truly woke him. But it was the other pains of his body that induced his body to begin moving before his mind began to fully work. Opening his eyes Aragorn let them adjust to the light of the room and realized that his back and neck hurt due to the simple fact that he had been laying bent over, his head on the edge of the bed Buffy lay on still.

With that thought his mind began to truly work and with the sudden mental awakening all that he had seen, learned and felt came rushing back to him. Even now he could hear words echo through his ears, the sounds of a million conversations rolling like waves upon the shore. Some came with images, some with pain and joy but all came with a single consistent thing, Buffy. He knew the good and he knew the self destructive abyss of darkness within her and what both had driven her to.

He knew it all, the details there with perfect clarity if he focused on a particular piece but now was not the moment that he could think on them. His hand burned still and looking down at it, where his fingers still lay laced with Buffy's he realized that the Ring of Fire was no longer on his finger but had returned to its place on her delicate hand.

And where it had been on his own burned, burned from the almost brand into his skin. From the green, red and almost metallic brand into his skin in a shape similar but not identical to Buffy's ring. The very sight gave him hope and looking up at Buffy's face where she lay against the pillows he felt relief flood through him. Gone was the translucency to her skin along with several of the smaller cuts that had covered her face. She was still gravely wounded but even the slight change gave him hope. She was flawed and far more fragile than any who loved her wished to admit but she was his hope and without her no future felt as though it would be bright.







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April 3/6 Tuile 3019 III Age




Afternoon had passed into evening with a deceptive hush of activity throughout the city and Citadel itself. His emergence from Buffy's chamber had been swiftly met by inquisitions and considering glances by Gandalf, admonishment and worry by his kin and discussion of battle and preparations by all others. In those strangely long hours much had taken place, including what the gwenyn considered a near miraculous change in Buffy's condition. So much so that in the early hours of evening she had been moved under careful supervision from the Houses of Healing on the fourth circle into the Citadel itself. She had not woken, nor even stirred but the healer in him could see her improvement.

See it from where he stood near her bed as the faint whispers of morning began to make themselves known. Knowing that he had little time before they were to leave for battle he took a deep breath and moved to the side of the bed, sitting on its edge gently, careful not to disturb Buffy's small form. Reaching out he ran his fingers through her hair, so like spun gold in the candlelight. He wanted to speak, to say something to her before he left but the words simply wouldn't come. How was he to say all that he wanted to? That he was sorry that he hadn't been able to prevent this. That he was angry at her for never telling him the full truth of why she came into this world. That she had given up her mortality in order to save him. That she had kept so many secrets from him. That he forgave her for it anyway. That he finally understood with perfect clarity.

There were a thousand things he wanted to say, thousands more that he would never know how to so he said nothing as he studied her face, trying to memorize every small detail of her. Long moments passed as he continued to wind his fingers through her hair and the room began to grow lighter as dawn came upon them. With one final deep breath he leaned forward his lips almost brushing the pale skin of her forehead as he spoke the only words that he could.

“I love you.”

He kissed her forehead and straightened moving then to stand and taking one last look at the woman who was his world before he turned and left.







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Arwen felt the cool spring air wash over her from her place on the balcony, her heart heavy and yet not at the same time as she watched Aragorn lead the column of riders from the city. She feared for them all, her family and her love yet she knew that this was their best course of action. Frodo needed time and there was no other way to gain it.

Even if it would most likely mean the deaths of almost all she loved.

Turning, she let her gaze fall on Buffy's still form. The golden haired elleth had yet to waken and it worried her. They had changed the multitude of bandages before they had moved her to the Citadel and she and the gwenyn had found an obvious change. All of the small cuts and scrapes had healed completely, along with the burns. The numerous bruises had faded and the larger wounds had headed considerably.

Which was usual for Buffy. What was not usual was Buffy's continued lack of consciousness. Even as gravely wounded as Arwen had seen her before Buffy had always woken within the first day, if only for a short time. It was now three days since she had fallen wounded in battle and still she had not woken, nor even stirred.

It worried her greatly. Almost as much so as the almost brand she had noted upon her foster brother's hand. Aragorn had divulged that he had taken steps to ensure that Buffy survived and she knew that he had spoken to Gandalf of the whole of it but she knew deep in her heart what he had done even though he had not told her. She could feel it like a whisper in the wind. He had forged some sort of bond between Buffy and himself with Narya to keep Buffy among the living. She didn't believe any of the others knew not even the gwenyn but she and her daernaneth had always had a stronger bond with Buffy than any of the other members of their family. It was a fact that worried her, because though she could place her faith in Aragorn to fight for his people and Buffy with every breath he had she knew that he could fall in the battle he rode to. And if he did she did not know what would happen to her kinswoman.







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He could still see them in the distance, eight thousand men riding into a battle that would most likely be their last as the cool spring wind washed over him. His King led them and though Boromir wished he was among them Aragon's request that he stay could not be denied. His King had asked him to remain behind, to defend the people of Gondor and protect Buffy and he would. He would follow them both until his last breath, be it in battle at their sides or defending them.

He had wanted to protest, but had not. Aragorn had made his reasoning clear, the people had followed him and Buffy before and should there be no one else left the people would follow them again. It was a heavy burden to know that, should all other hope be lost, they would be what stood before the darkness but he had accepted his orders.








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Aragorn listened, his hands tight upon the the reigns of his horse as he listened to the abhorrent thing that spoke for Sauron to keep his anger in check, the slight burning he could still feel to his hand a reminder and comfort as it spilled foul words.

Watching the reactions of the others as Gandalf held Frodo's mithril shirt he considered the implications.

Frodo was not dead.

If he were and the Ring in Sauron's hands then no mere servant would have come to meet them.

“The Halfling was dear to thee I see. Know that he suffered greatly at the hands of his host. Who would’ve thought one so small could endure so much pain? And he did Gandalf, he did.” the foul thing said and he pushed his stallion forward. His patience had reached his limit and he would draw the armies of Mordor to him. Frodo had not fallen, he would not believe it and he would hold true to his decision. He would draw them from Frodo.

He considered the foul perversion as he rode past it as it spoke and made his decision. “And who is this? Isildur’s heir? It takes more to make a King than a broken Elvish blade.” it managed to speak before he moved. With one swipe of his blade he removed his head and turned his horse as he heard Gimli speak.

“I guess that concludes negotiations.”

He met Gandalf's gaze as he spoke “ I do not believe it. I will not.”







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He pushed himself harder, cutting though those that would end him with little thought save his next move, his next opponent. He had rallied the men against their foes, led them into the charge for Frodo, now all that was left was to cut down all that he could to keep Sauron's eye on them in hopes that Frodo could save them all.

Cutting though yet another he heard the unmistakable roar of a troll behind him and turned, blocking its blows as best he could before it swung at him with its free arm. The blow connected and he felt the air leave him even as he went flying. He made contact with the ground face first, the impact of the landing coupled with the blow leaving him dazed for a moment as he struggled to catch his breath.

In the distance he could hear Legolas shouting his name and the heavy tread of the troll as it came upon him. Struggling to get up and breathe with ribs that he knew were cracked if not broken he managed to get to his knees only to be forced back down hard as the troll attempted to crush him with its foot.

Unwilling to simply give up he pulled the blade Buffy had given him so many years ago from its sheath and stabbed the foot as hand as he was able with a yell.

A yell that was drowned out by a sound unlike any he had ever heard before, not even the screech of a Wraith could match it and the troll turned, stopping the downward thrust of the blade it was about to end him with and turned, its foot coming off of his cheat. Not wasting even a moment he moved to get up, the action painful.

And then he saw it.

The Eye,was screeching, shuddering, a flare like the sun and he knew.

Even as the tower began to collapse upon itself, he knew.

Frodo had done it.

The Ring was gone.

He could only watch in astonishment as the tower crumbled, as Sauron fell. There were no words for it. But as Mount Doom began to erupt he felt horror crawl up his spine. Frodo and Sam had done it, only to meet their end.







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She stood at her mirror though her gaze was not upon it. Instead it lay upon the crown that lay in her hands. The crown of her youngest child, of the gift she had been given when she felt it.

She was unsure of how long she stood immobile before Celeborn broke her from the ebb, flow, and influx of knowledge that came with Nenya's freedom but with the knowledge that the One Ring had finally been destroyed had come the knowledge that her child needed her.







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April 4/7 Tuile 3019 III Age



A sense of joy, relief, had settled over the city with the knowledge that Sauron was no more. But it was a happiness that was tempered with loss, the loss of loved ones, friends and allies. But hope had sprung anew despite it all.

It was that hope that he held to as he gazed down at Buffy's still form bathed in the afternoon sunlight. The color had returned to her though it was far from the glow of vitality that had surrounded her for all the many years he had known her. As a healer it gave him hope along with the healing he knew had begun to take place. He had seen the bandages and knew that within days the wounds would be healed.

And yet she had not woken.

Almost five days had passed and she had yet to even stir. It was a thing that tempered his hope, left him with a sense of unease. The gwenyn advised him to give it time as did Arwen but he could see their unease as well about it. Could feel it in the words they did not say and glances they shared. Still, there was aught they could do and so they would wait and he would hope. Hope to see flashing green eyes and hear her viper tongue. For her temper and her constant need to challenge anything in her path. Hope for his flawed and astounding love.

And in that time he would do what he was meant to do. He would lead.







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April 8/11 Tuile 3019 III Age




A soft rain fell over the city, the droplets seeming to wash away the ashes of the time before. Ashes of fire, war, loss, and evil. Yet despite the knowledge that the race of man was beginning to rise from their own ashes and hope had sprung anew Arwen could not let it wash over her as the rains did. The darkness had been defeated, her beloved foster brother had taken on the role he was born for, her betrothed had not fallen and the ring bearer had awoken earlier in the day and yet she feared that her vision would not come to pass.

With each passing day her worry grew, her hope tempered despite all the things that had come to pass. Buffy had yet to awaken still though her wounds had almost healed. The knowledge left a shadow in her mind, a worry. She had seen others wounded in ways that could not be seen nor healed, wounds of the mind, and as time passed and Buffy did not wake she worried that her kinswoman had suffered such a wound. She doubted that she was the only one to consider such a thing, the gwenyn as well as Estel were healers themselves. Though she doubted any were brave enough to discuss the possibility with her foster brother.

No, he would not give up, never give up on Buffy. So long as she drew breath Estel would remain steady in his belief that Buffy would awaken. Though neither would she. Though she held on to her hope for reasons no one else knew of.

For she had not told any of her family that she could feel their ada and daernaneth coming. That both had begun their journey within hours of the destruction of the One Ring. While her unease grew with every passing day she would hold out hope that if all else failed her ada would have the skill to wake Buffy.








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April 30/33 Tuile 3019 III Age




Tension filled him, a bowstring drawn taut as he waited for the column of horses and riders to reach him. The cause of his tension was not the coronation that was to take place in the morning, he had already prepared himself for it as well as he was able. No, this tension lay in other things, in the knowledge that in mere moments he would be facing the Lady and Lord of the Golden Wood along with his foster father. He would be facing them with the news that after thirty days Buffy still lay unmoving.

He was no longer certain what to think or believe in regards to the one who held his heart. The healer in him knew that there was little hope of her ever awaking after so long, little chance he would ever see her eyes open or hear her voice. The rest of him though held on to what he had experienced after placing her ring on his own hand. To the deal he had struck, the bargain he had made to keep her among the living.

The riders grew closer and he willed himself to remain with his muscles relaxed, there was nothing he could change between this moment and the next few ones that would alter the state of things. Many of the others had gathered with in in the fading light to greet the Eldar Lords and Lady.







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Silvery moonlight danced with the golden glow of candlelight as Arwen stood sentinel at the door of Buffy's chamber. The last hours since her adar and daernaneth and daeradar had arrived had been filled with many things, among them an argument between herself and her ada in regards to her leaving Imaldris in the manner she had and her actions since. It had only been her daernaneth's intervention that had prevented her from letting loose a string of curses that would have made Buffy proud along with some other choice things. But despite their argument and many other things she could and would not leave as her forebears each stood at opposite sides of Buffy's bed. The last weeks without Buffy awakening had created an even greater sense of worry in her and she would not be kept away.

Estel had left them only a few moments before, his eyes filled with so many things, as he went with the others. Her foster brother would be crowned the on the morrow and she could see the guilt in his eyes as he had stood and watched her daernaneth look down upon Buffy's still form. All of the wounds her kinswoman had sustained had long since healed, the scars having already faded to almost nothingness.

And yet she did not awaken.

Arwen watched, breath held, as they each sat upon the sides of Buffy's bed and each took up one small hand. It felt as if the very essence of time slowed into nothingness as the inner glow of all the First Born began to rise to heights she had never before beheld.







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Time rose and fell, waves of life, of memory. But they were not only her memories, for she had never played as a child in the gardens of Imaldris. Her memories, in all their chaos of pain, violence, confusion, joy, laughter, play and love were but half of the waves that washed through her. Before had been darkness and cold but that had ended, leaving her to the ebb and flow of her life and a life she knew. To Aragorn's life.

Time slowed and she saw it, a thing unlike any she had ever beheld. The screeching was a sound that cut through her as she saw the fall, the destruction of that damnable eye and she felt relief pass through her like a fire under her very skin.

“You've only just begun.”

The words cut through her and with a rush she knew, knew, what Aragorn had done and she felt a pull at her mind so strong it felt as though a troll were behind it.








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Arwen was unsure of when she had moved from the door of the chamber to stand at the end of the bed but it was when her legs brushed it that she realized she had moved. The glow that had come from her family had continued, though if it had been for moments or hours she was unsure. Something was happening, though what she did not know and when a flash of green flared so bright it was almost blinding she closed her eyes against it.

“Anyone get the license plate of the mumakil that hit me?”

It was Buffy's voice, slightly rough from disuse and her eyes snapped open. Her ada and daernaneth each sat, smiles on their faces as they gazed down at where Buffy lay awake.

Buffy was awake.







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The sun had only just begun to crest into the sky, the first vestiges of it telling her that today would be a beautiful and bright day. A day that the Valar had given them. Walking though the halls of the Citadel on her way to Buffy's chamber she smiled, it was early still and yet the Citadel itself felt alive with the currents of activity that had begun hours before.

It was that very activity and hushed chaos that was working to her benefit at the moment as she returned from gaining the aid of the Lady Eowyn in her effort.

Buffy had awoken, slightly stiff and very thirsty and hungry only hours before and after a great deal of discussion by all those in the room many things had been revealed and decided. Among them that no one was to let Aragorn know of Buffy's awakening yet. Buffy had made the decision, one that Arwen was more than happy to agree with as she strode down the last corridor after ordering a bath made ready. She had brought the Lady Eowyn into the plot for several reasons, one of which was that she and the White Lady of Rohan had become friends in the last weeks.

Reaching Buffy's door she opened it and entered to find Buffy moving through the forms of some fighting style that she had seen her kinswoman do more times that she could count.

“So, everything set?” Buffy asked as she stopped and moved to sit on the bed, the nightdress she wore tangling around her legs.

“It is. How are you feeling?” she asked as she poured another goblet of water for her friend and handed it to her with yet another slice of bread.

Buffy took them both with a raised eyebrow “I feel fine. And let me guess, you're gonna keep making me eat right up until you sneak me out of this room?” she said and took a bite of the bread.

“Of course.” she agreed with a smile, glad to have the closest person to a sister she'd ever had back.

“Well at least one thing is exactly like it's always been besides Elrond's temper and nana's knowing smiles.” she replied after she'd swallowed. “So whens Eowyn getting in here? I've got to hear how she snagged ranger boy jr. while I was asleep.”

Arwen raised an eyebrow at Buffy's nickname for Faramir but declined to say anything in regards to it. After all, Buffy had been calling The Lord of the Golden Flower Lord Prissy Hair for almost as long as Buffy had known him so there was little she could say that had not already been said to Buffy before in regards to it.

“The water for your bath with be here presently and she will be here shortly after. So I suggest you finish eating so that we begin.” she replied instead.

“Yeah Yeah. I'm eating I'm eating. Miss bossy.” Buffy shot back good naturedly and took another bite of the bread.








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The sunlight felt as though it had washed the White City clean of all that had befallen it, a feeling that she thought has less to do with the actual light and more with the fact that it had had a month to recover while she had been removed from the world. The last hours since she had awoken had been hours that had left her world feeling slightly left of center and yet just as it should be. The One Ring was gone, Sauron defeated, Aragorn had taken up the mantle of the King he was, her friends and loved one were still alive and all was almost as it should be.

All except one thing.

Herself and Aragorn. She was proud of him, so proud she didn't have words and yet one small part of wanted to throttle him for what she now knew he had done. Through Narya she knew it, the bargain he had struck, offering his own life for hers and what could have happened to him had Sauron had gotten the One Ring. She would have fallen into shadow and taken him with her.

But it had not happened and now she wasn't quite sure how she would tell him. Or if he had experienced what she had and already knew. Knew that she'd traded her chance at mortality to have full access to Narya's power to save him and the ability to do what needed to be done in order for everyone to survive. That by binding himself to her he had sentenced himself to live as long as she did, be it ten or ten thousand years. It was a double edged sword, one one side she would never have to watch him grow old and die and on the other it meant that if she lost her life so would he.

It was a dangerous thing. And one she'd discussed with her naneth in depth. Along with many other things, among them being the fact that she had accepted Aragorn's proposal of marriage. A proposal that, once she had revealed what Aragorn had done to her parents and Elrond, had all approved of.

She was half certain there was a hell dimension somewhere freezing over now. But she loved Aragorn and though she was still so frightened it wasn't funny about what marrying him would mean she would. Which, once she had resolved herself about it as much as she could had allowed her to focus on other things. Like the fact that Eowyn and Faramir had fallen for each other and that Aragorn's coronation was happening.

Which, with conspiring minds had led to her current location standing behind her parents after Arwen and Eowyn had helped her get ready and had tried to feed her like she was a hobbit. She was dressed in a gown of blueish green that was so pale it was almost white, silver embroidery adorning it. The shoulders barely sat on her own shoulders and came down to an almost v, framing the Mithril necklace that matched the crown she'd worn only once before when she had been in Lorien with the Fellowship. The top of the sleeve ended at her wrist but draped down to the ground, almost hiding the small train decorated with intricate embroidery. The hair near her temples had been braided and held back the rest of her hair from her face, save for the two small pieces that hung before her ears. Atop it sat her Mithril crown, a reminder that, though she wanted to fidget, she really couldn't. Not with so many around her, though she wished one of those close was Arwen.

But Arwen wasn't with her, she was standing slightly closer to where Aragorn stood, about to be crowned, with Elrond, Glor, Erestor and the gwenyn leaving her all alone behind her parents.

The sight around her though was enough to keep her distracted from almost anything, the beauty of the preparations and of Aragorn dressed as a King to be. A hush fell over everything as Aragorn ascended the steps to stand before Gandalf. There was a slight pause and then she watched as Frodo came forward and gave the Winged Crown to the Istari who held it high before him before lowering it slowly onto Aragorn's head. She felt her breath catch, the knowledge that she had done it, she had seen and help make happen what she'd been sent to do washing over her. Aragorn was King, the Ring was gone.

It hadn't felt real until that very moment and she felt something inside herself unclench for the first time in seventy three years. And she realized that she was free, truly free of one of the greatest burdens she'd ever carried.

“Now come the days of the King.” Gandalf said and she let the breath out, her greater than human hearing picking up what he said next. “May they be blessed.”

She wasn't sure if she wanted to cry, cheer, or laugh as Aragorn stepped forward and turned to gaze upon the masses gathered. Because she was fairly sure she did all three for a moment as the cheer went up.

“This day does not belong to one man but to all. Let us together rebuild this world, that we may share in the days of peace.” Aragorn spoke and another cheer went up and she wondered when exactly he'd gotten articulate before she realized that he'd always been, he just never had a reason to make a speech before.

When the flower petals began to fall through the air she looked up, willing herself to burn every instant upon her memory. This was, for her, for Aragorn, of something completely unlike anything either of them had ever experienced before. He was truly the King he was meant to be and she was finally free of duties to any power higher than her own.

When Aragorn began to sing she returned her gaze to him, the sound of his voice something she'd always loved.

“Eht Ayare ell loh ehn dore ehn nah oo toolee ehn. See nomay maroo vahn are Heel deenyar tehn Ahm bar meht tah.”

She allowed the words to wash over her, forcing herself to breathe calmly as he began to descend the steps after he was finished, a honor guard behind him as the came down the row, bowing his head to Eowyn and Faramir who stood together and then Eomar, Boromir and Imralil. Next came her kin from Imaldris, Aragorn giving the gwenyn and Arwen a small smile before he stepped forwared along the line and was met by Legolas. They grasped each others shoulders and she heard Aragorn thank Legolas in in their language and then she felt it, the prodding at her mind that told her that Arwen was doing what they'd planned.

Arwen was contacting all three of them at once.

“The Lady and Lord of the Golden Wood are waiting Estel.” she heard Arwen say inside her head and saw both Legolas and Aragorn's gazes shift. Legolas' to Arwen with a smile and Aragorn's to her parents and she felt every muscle in her body tense.








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“The Lady and Lord of the Golden Wood are waiting Estel.” Aragorn heard Arwen say inside his mind and he turned his gaze to then, only to find his world slow and narrow as he saw both smiling at him as they stepped apart.

He thought he must be dreaming, for it couldn't be real. Only hours before his foster father had told him that all that could be done for Buffy had been.

He did not blink nor breathe as she stepped forward slowly, her tentative smile not something he'd ever seen before on her face. Her eyes shown bright underneath the Mithril crown he'd only ever seen her wear once before, the crown that marked her as the heir to the Golden Wood.

It wasn't real and yet he realized he was moving, closing the distance between them until he was looking down into her eyes. He wanted to reach out, to touch her but he knew that if he did the dream would end.

When a flash of burning pain flared on the brand where Buffy's ring had been for less than a space of a heartbeat his eyes widened and she smiled in that way that infuriated him as much as he loved it as she spoke.

“Miss me?”







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She didn't know why she'd said it but she had and before she could even think about it Aragorn's mouth was crashing down on hers as he picked her up and spun her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he led her, the feel of his lips warm and sweet and perfect. She heard the cheer go up around them and swore she heard laughter from more than just her friends but from her nana as well.

They broke apart, their foreheads only centimeters apart and she met his gray gaze as he ran his fingers through her hair.

“Not a dream.” he whispered and she smiled.

“No.” she whispered back and he closed his eyes for an instant before opening them again and meeting her gaze. For the first time in what felt like forever everything felt completely right in the world and she knew that if it only lasted for a moment it was enough.

They broke apart but Aragorn refused to release her hand and she smiled even though she realized that she was not going to have to spend the rest of the ceremony with his because she knew he wouldn't let go.

And she didn't want him to.

Ever.







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A/N: Yep it's down here this time. Sorry for the wait and tank you to everyone for their patience over the last sixteen months while I wrote this. Now its not over...I've got another chapter coming...an epilogue of sorts. But it brings me to the point of the sequel. One...does anyone want one? Two........does anyone want anything specific to happen or any buffyverse characters to show up? Three.......any kind of specific plot?

Let me know people please because if I don't get anything I'm ending it with the next chapter.


And please review....I love reviews and I love you guys for sticking with me for so long.