Xander was lying in the grass behind the trees. He could hear the elves singing that funeral song. He felt a pang in his chest remembering how he too had lost someone dear to him once long ago. He felt a pang in his chest.
“God damn it,” he swore softly.
He heard someone stirring so he sat up, and looked across seeing Boromir sit up. Boromir seemed to take in Xander’s present state.
“Are you well Xander,” the Gondorian inquired with a brow arching slightly. It seemed he and Xander were starting to get along better.
Xander chuckled. “Not really…It’s this lament that I hear. It made me think of someone I nearly forgot.”
He found Boromir nodding in understanding. “I understand Xander…I have lost comrades as well.”
Xander gave him a slight glare. “He was more than a friend. Jessie was a brother to me.”
Boromir looked at the ground. He felt a slight wave of guilt. What if he had lost his brother? He would regret it.
“Look,” Xander spoke feeling a little uncomfortable. “Let’s just get some sleep Boromir. We both need it.”
It was a few short hours latter when Xander found himself waking up. He saw a flicker of white light and sat up. He had been dreaming of home. Of his girls, who were at a grave. They were visiting his grave; he blinked back a pang in his chest, and realized the Lady of the Wood was here.
He stood up awkwardly. To him it looked like Frodo had moved while he was sleeping. Galadriel beckoned him to follow her with a crook of his finer, so he followed her.
“Will you look,” she inquired with what appeared to Xander as they approached her looking glass.
She knew Xander’s response. He wrinkled his nose as he was considering this. Then he nodded.
“Yeah, I will look,” Xander said having a feeling she was going to show him what he needed to see. He watched as she poured a picture of water into the looking glass, and then motioned for Xander to look.
He peeked into the basin and gave out a gasp.
He could see Anya. She was at the Magic Box, taking inventory it seemed. Then he saw what almost was, him leaving her at the alter. But they had never gotten that chance. They thought he had been killed by those orcs, who had dragged him to Arda.
He saw Dawn coming into the shop. Her greeting Anya, they began chatting happily from what Xander could see. Though he could feel the pain in Anaya’s movements, which did hurt him.
He saw what would have happened if he had returned instead of joining the Fellowship. Buffy will die if he returns. Dawn will loose her sister. Willow just might start using the blacker arts. Worst of all, Sauron would have set his eye on Earth. This bothered him as he pulled back. He wanted to cry out, it wasn’t fair. He didn’t want to look for Buffy. He couldn’t face her, or anyone else. Even if this was just through a looking glass. He would have to remain here. Even if it hurt too much to accept right now, but he would by the morning. No way would he brood like dead boy.
“I understand now, Lady,” Xander said heavily. “I can’t go back. Anya would go back to being a Vengeance demon… Buffy would die…And other things I don’t want to happen could happen.”
He knew it as likely. So tonight before he went to sleep, he would mourn the loss of home.