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Summary: Willow and Xander choose complimentary costumes from Ethan's

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Lord of the Rings > Xander-CenteredMissEFR1512,2575315,87224 Sep 1024 Sep 10No
Disclaimer: Don't own or claim rights to Buffy or The Lord of The Rings

A/N: As with all my fics, this will be updated at random. Sorry – I'm very scatterbrained at times.


“So,” Buffy began, large bag draped over her arm, “now that I've got my outfit, how about we figure something out for you?”

“Oh, no,” Willow grinned as she shook her head, “Xander and I already have our outfits. And they're amazing! Wait 'til you see us,” she gloated.

Buffy raised her eyebrows, but didn't say anything. If her two best friends were going as matched characters, then there was hope for a romance yet.


Joyce Summers opened the door to two elegantly dressed young people. “Can I help you?” she asked, when they didn't offer the traditional Halloween greeting.

The woman smiled. “Hi Mrs Summers. It's us, Willow and Xander. And I guess you won the bet, Xan,” she pouted. “He bet that you wouldn't recognise us.”

Joyce blinked, and looked at the couple again. A small, slender woman with long silver-and-gold hair held back by a decorative circlet, and a long gown became Willow with a wig, while the tall, dignified man man in armour became Xander with a long wig, another circlet, and grey contacts. “Oh, my. Those are wonderful costumes. But who are you?”

Xander grinned. “You can't guess?” he teased. “We're well known characters from one of the finest examples of literature from the fantasy genre,” he boasted.

“He's been practising that,” Willow confided.

Before they could go any further, Buffy came downstairs in her extravagant Georgian costume, complete with ornate dark wig.

Xander sternly resisted the impulse to roll his eyes, or comment about dressing for Deadboy. “Bit foofy, isn't it?” he offered, finally.

“I think it's lovely,” Joyce smiled.

“It's very … princess-y,” Willow nodded. “Very pretty.”

“I'd prefer Xena,” Xander decided. “Or spandex. Spandex is of the good,” he pronounced.

Buffy did roll her eyes at that. “Whatever. We need to get going before we're late, and Snyder gives us detention until we're thirty.”


Galadriel looked around. 'What is this place?' she wondered. 'It reeks of darkness.' She looked at the monsters running about, like little orcs, and grimaced. The place looked to be the abode of Men, and yet there were … things here that defied belief. She heard a woman's scream not far, and decided she couldn't just stand around doing nothing. Gathering her skirts, she ran towards the terrified sound.


Elrond brought his sword up to a guard position, and looked around himself. He saw chaos, and felt darkness. Wherever he was, things were … wrong. The various dark creatures avoided him and his sword was glowing blue in reaction to the evil roaming about. He didn't know where he was – there was nothing like this in all his travels in Middle Earth, though he rather suspected he was in the land of Men. He heard a woman's scream, and ran towards it. At least there was something he could do.


Galadriel leaned down over the girl in the overdone red dress. “Nith, ci mae?” she asked gently.

The dark-haired girl looked at her, wide-eyed. “I, I'm sorry, milady, but I don't understand.”

“I'm sorry.” Galadriel apologised. “I should have tried Common Speech first. Are you well? Do you need help?”

“I, I don't know where I am. Do you know where we are?” she asked plaintively.

“No. I do not know this place, other than I suspect it is in the land of Men. I do not know which kingdom we are in, though.”

“I do not think it is England,” the girl offered.

“England?” Galadriel tried. “I do not know of this land. Is it in the East?”

“Oh, no,” the girl denied indignantly. “Most certainly not. But how do you not know of England? You are speaking English.”

Galadriel tilted her head as she considered the girl. “I am speaking the Common Speech of Middle Earth, the language of Men.”

The girl frowned. “So what were you speaking at the beginning?”

“Sindarin. It is the common language of the Elves,” Galadriel nodded regally.

The girl's eyes grew wide again. “Are, are you an elf?”

She nodded. “I am Galadriel, Lady of Lorien. And you are?”

“Lady Elizabeth. Of Kent,” she added with a conscientious curtsey.

“Well, Lady Elizabeth, I do believe we should find ourselves some form of shelter.” With that, she looked around, then chose her direction and started off. After a moment, Lady Elizabeth picked up her skirts and hurried after the only sane and safe person in this madness.

Elrond ran up to the girl being chased by a monster, and, without breaking stride, brought up his sword. At the last moment, though, he twisted his sword, and hit the monster with the blunt edge of his sword, knocking it out. He frowned at the monster, and his own actions, then turned to regard the oddly clad girl he had just rescued.

“Xander,” she exclaimed. “God! I have never been more happy to see you, dork-boy.”

Elrond tilted his head at the girl. “I'm sorry, but I'm not sure I understand what you're talking about.

“Dweeb? Xander? What are you going on about?”

“My name is Elrond,” he answered, shaking his head.

The girl raised an elegant eyebrow. “Oh, come on. Don't you think you're taking this too far? Don't think I don't know who you are under that wig,” she argued, reaching to grab his hair.

Elrond stepped back out of reach. “You genuinely believe I'm someone else?”

“Duh! You're Xander Harris, dork-boy extraordinaire. You just dressed up as … who was it now?”

He smiled “Elrond Half-Elven,” he bowed. “If I am this man, dressed up as … me, then why am I … me?”

“Damned if I know,” she snorted. She thought for a moment, then said, “Giles will know. You lot always hang around the library, and he seems to know everything weird that happens around here.”

Elrond frowned. “If I dressed up as … me, did someone dress up as, say, Galadriel?”

“Oh, yeah. That would be Willow. Why?”

“Because I sense her presence here in this place.” Elrond reached out in thought. 'My Lady of the Galadhrim,' he called, 'is that you?'

'Elrond of Imladris?' Galadriel's voice came back. 'Are you here in this place of darkness?'

'I am. I am with a young woman who claims I am not, indeed, Elrond, but a boy who dressed up as me. She suggests you are truly a girl named Willow.'

There was a moment of silence, then she replied. 'I am not entirely sure I should be surprised. This place stinks of magic. Do you have any suggestions?'

'This girl has suggested that a scholar named Giles may know what is going on. I think it would be good if you would join us so that we may figure out what has happened, and rectify it.'

'I shall be with you soon,' Galadriel agreed. With that, she broke the connection.

Elrond turned to the girl with him. “The one you consider to be Willow shall be with us shortly, then we shall look for this Giles.” He smiled. “So how may I introduce you to the Lady Galadriel?” he asked.

She rolled her eyes. “Cordelia Chase. And don't go thinking we're friends, 'cause we're not. I just keep getting dragged into the weirdness that is your lives.”

“Ah,” he nodded. “In that case I apologise for rescuing you,” he bowed ironically.

Cordelia sighed. “Okay, I guess I deserved that one.”


Giles looked up from his cataloguing to see a frightened Buffy, a huffy Cordelia, and a rather calm Xander and Willow, who seemed to have grown quite a bit in the last few hours. “Er, is there anything wrong?”

“God, Giles,” Cordelia snorted. “Is there anything right? Buffy's turned into Lady Useless,” she indicated, ignoring the brunette's indignant gasp, “while Xander and Willow have turned into Lord and Lady Elf.”

Giles looked at Xander and Willow to see them give dignified, if amused, nods. Buffy, on the other hand huffed and set herself down on an available chair. “What do you mean 'turned into?'” he asked faintly.

“Miss Chase assures us that we are, respectively, Xander Harris, Willow Rosenberg, and Buffy Summers, but none of us know that for ourselves,” the ersatz Elrond smiled.

“And you would be?” Giles asked.

“Elrond Half-Elven,” he introduced, bowing, “Galadriel of Lothlorien,” he waved to the tall blonde, “and Lady Elizabeth,” he indicated the seated brunette.

“Oh dear,” Giles murmured. “And you, Cordelia, what are you?”

“I'm me,” she assured him. “But then, I didn't get my costume from the new place. If I had to guess, I would say these losers all got their stuff from Ethan's. As if I would waste my time at a place like that!”

Giles blinked, then began to clean his glasses. “Ethan's?” he asked mildly. “Did you happen to go in there at all? Meet the proprietor?”

“Nope. But I can show you where it is.”

Giles nodded decisively. “Please do.”

The group waited for Galadriel to select a weapon, determined as she was to not be uninvolved in the coming fight, then they followed Cordelia to the costume shop. Once there, Cordelia dragged Buffy to a safe corner while Giles confronted his former friend. When Ethan proved recalcitrant, Galadriel began to look around. Identifying the source of the dark power she had been feeling, she nodded to Elrond, who used his far superior, Elven-made sword to destroy the bust of Janus sitting in its mystic circle.

Buffy, Willow and Xander rocked back under the wave of power that flew out from the destroyed statue. Buffy gasped, and flung her brunette wig to the floor, while Willow raised a hand to her head. Xander, on the other hand, quickly crossed the room and neatly intercepted Ethan with a still-sharp sword to his neck.

“I do not believe you should do that,” he warned sternly.

Ethan looked at the once-plastic sword with concern. “But, how...”

Willow/Galadriel looked at him. “You chose this tainted place to work your will, drawing us into your world. In doing so, you made a very grave error.”

Buffy and Giles exchanged worried glances. “Will?” the petite blonde called.

“Yes,” Willow answered, “and no. I fear we are no longer as we once were.”

“I retain Vilya,” Xander/Elrond explained, “and I feel … Willow retains Nenya.”

“Oh, dear Lord,” Giles murmured, before turning a wrathful look on the Chaos mage. “You utter fool. Do you know now what you have done?”

Ethan gulped. “I... I can undo this,” he offered.

Xander frowned. “If you think we will allow your pollution near us again, I fear you have fallen victim to the madness that surrounds you.”

“Oh, boy,” Buffy murmured.


Xander and Willow walked through the school halls, catching everyone's eyes. Both had changed significantly to resemble the characters they had gone as for Halloween, only a few days previously. Hair, eyes (in Xander's case) even height had changed, as had their personal senses of style. Gone were Xander's flamboyant shirts and Willow's fluffy sweaters, to be replaced by an understated elegance. Giles had moved both of them into his apartment as a temporary measure, since even Xander's parents wouldn't let these changes pass. He had also supplied funds for them to purchase their new clothes, since nothing from their old lives fit them now. There were already plans for them to find an apartment for themselves, as well as a method of funding their lives. But for now it was Monday morning, and they had Math first up.

“Hey, you too,” Buffy greeted. “Looking good. Looking tall, too, Will. I keep forgetting how tall you are, now.”

Willow rolled her eyes. “Do you know how difficult it is to find clothes when you're a woman over six foot tall?”

“No,” Buffy replied dryly, “can't say that's ever been a problem for me.”

Willow looked down to her friend. “I'm sorry. I'm just feeling a little overwhelmed at the changes. Galadriel's life flashes in at times, and, well, she lived a very long time.”

“So how are the two of you coping?” Buffy frowned.

“I think we are doing as well as might be expected,” Xander decided.

“That bad, huh?” Buffy smiled.

“He misses his sword,” Willow smiled slightly.

“The Hellmouth getting to you?” Buffy asked, worried.

“To both of us, yes,” Willow nodded. “It crawls against our skin. I can't understand how you have stood it so long.”

Buffy shrugged. “I guess I get to work out my frustrations on the locals. It's never really bothered me, though.”

Xander gave her a measuring look, then sighed. “My attitude towards school really hasn't improved over-much. The only thing is that where previously I avoided anything approaching work due to a desire not to stand out, now I see the inadequacy of the whole, and simply wish it to be done.”

Buffy stared at him, then turned and walked away. Startled, Xander looked at his friend for an explanation.

“This is hard for her, too,” Willow advised softly. “She has lost her friends just as we have lost our old selves.”

Xander nodded. “I do not think we can ever be what she wants us to be. How can I be like that now?” He sighed. “We shall simply have to aid her in this war as best we can. And that, unfortunately, includes going to this cursed school.”

“Come, Tôr vuin,” she smiled. “Let us slay that fell beast that is math.”


Any Sindarin from

The End?

You have reached the end of "Miscalculation" – so far. This story is incomplete and the last chapter was posted on 24 Sep 10.

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