Chapter Text
Middle Earth
TA 3019
Elrohir slipped silently through the thick vegetation with his bow in hand. He had seen the orcs lurking among the trees and he wasn’t about to let them get away. He knew of many small farms and communities that were just trying to survive in these dangerous lands far to the north of their home in Imladris, and he wasn’t about to let them fall victim to these orc raiders.
The twin son of Elrond loved being in the forest far more than the typical Noldor elf did. Far more than even his brother. He felt guilty for continuing his scouting mission in the north while Arwen grew weaker and war threatened them from the east, but he simply felt as though he had little to offer. He’d always been the black sheep, spending more time with animals than with anyone else. He knew full well that Elladan would be at their father’s side as Elrond communicated across the distance to Galadriel in the woods of Lorien, making plans and deciding how they would aid the world of Men in this war.
But Elrohir would be absent from those proceedings, as he usually was. He smiled and shrugged at the thought when he saw a small racoon wander out of the bushes. The elf knelt on one knee, his long dark hair dropping into his eyes as he reached out his hand to the animal. Lazily, the racoon wandered over and licked the outstretched palm and Elrohir patted the creature on the head.
“I am hunting some orcs,” Elrohir explained as though the racoon could understand. “I am afraid you are distracting me from my task.”
The racoon only responded by prancing closer to the elf, rolling into the loose tunic and pants Elrohir wore, allowing the elf to rub its exposed belly. Elrohir needed little encouragement to comply. But when a twig cracked beside him, Elrohir had barely enough time to whirl and catch sight of the orc as it burst out of the trees, eagerly taking advantage of the distracted elf.
Elrohir reached for his bow, only to have it kicked away as the racoon scurried away. The orc grabbed the elf by his collar with one fist and hoisted him up to eye level and the elf was forced to stare into the evil black eyes as it lifted its dirty blade. Elrohir swallowed, feeling embarrassed that he would meet his end like this, to a single orc that he could have easily overpowered had he been paying attention. That was always the problem, wasn’t it? Elrohir could hear his father’s scolding in his mind, berating him for not paying attention to his studies, to his combat training, and to everything Elrond had tried to mold his son into.
But just as the orc moved to cut him down and end his life, the creature suddenly jolted, its eyes glancing to the side. Elrohir blinked. Then, the orc’s head simply rolled off its shoulders and thudded to the ground, leaving Elrohir to be gripped by a headless body which quickly fell away, revealing Elladan standing there, holding his bloody blade.
Elrohir gasped as he fell forward slightly and then quickly stood up, grabbing his bow and quiver full of arrows. “Brother!” he exclaimed as Elladan fixed him with a scolding look while he wiped his sword off and returned it to its sheath.
“Were you just going to let it cut your throat?” Elladan asked with a look of disappointment. “One measly orc, that’s all it takes to defeat you?”
“I didn’t see his approach,” Elrohir explained as he brushed his tunic off, though it was already grass-stained. “I had been scouting and lost sight of them.”
“You didn’t sense his approach because you weren’t paying attention,” Elladan scolded with a heavy sigh. “You shouldn’t be out here anyway, not at a time like this.”
“There are always orcs to clear out of our lands,” Elrohir countered. “Without me keeping an eye on the area, maybe Imladris would be overrun.”
“Hardly,” Elladan said with a roll of his eyes as he crossed his arms across his chest. The two stared at one another and finally Elladan’s expression softened. “Look, I know you like to be out here, but these are dangerous times. Especially right now.”
Elrohir glanced at Elladan and noted the grim look on his brother’s face. The look that clearly said he had unpleasant news to present.
“Father is missing,” Elladan informed his brother. “And I hear, so is King Thranduil in the east. And Saruman has escaped his prison. Lord Celeborn believes he is heading to this region for some foul purpose. The last remaining lands of the elves are under threat.”
Elrohir swallowed as he digested the news. He had assumed that he and his brother would be sent east to aid Aragorn in his cause, but now, it seemed, they too would see threat. And now, their father was missing? “What of Glorfindel?”
“He is also gone,” the green eyed brother responded. That was likely the only way to tell the twins apart, Elrohir’s eyes were a sapphire blue, while Elladan’s were an emerald green. And Elrohir always wore his long dark hair loose and often disheveled due to his days in the forest, he often wore his tunics full of grass stains and tears, whereas Elladan wore his hair neat and pulled out of his eyes, and always wore his armor. “Lord Celeborn is on his way to Edoras to collect the hobbits and then he will come here. We must defend Eriador from Saruman.”
Elrohir sighed, thinking about the task ahead. He was about to respond when he saw a flash of light streak across the sky. Glancing up, both brothers were quickly tossed aside by a great force as a ball of light descended upon them and then everything went dark…
… When Elrohir woke up, feeling dazed and disoriented, he was suddenly aware of the foul odor all around him. As he sat up, holding his head, he found himself laying on top of piles of papers and the buzz of flies all about him. The stench was of rotted food, and he coughed, rubbing his nose at the filth around him. He was laying in some sort of rectangular enclosure made of thin metal.
“Elrohir?” came his brother’s call, and the elf shuffled to his feet, peering over the edge of his strange enclosure to find Elladan standing nearby, his hands up in the air as two elf females stood, one with a long sword pointed right at his brother. Elrohir gasped as he reached down, digging his bow out of the container of trash and quickly finding his arrow quiver and leaping out of the metal bin.
“Not so fast,” one of the females warned as Elrohir approached. “Stop right there.”
“You are an elf,” Elrohir replied curiously as he regarded the two females. They were both dark-skinned with thick hair that fell to their waist, and, Elrohir noted that they were twins, nearly identical except the one with the reddish brown eyes wore her hair in tiny braids and pulled back out of her face while the other, the one with golden yellow eyes, wore her hair loose and curly. The golden eyed woman had blonde highlights and streaks interwoven throughout her hair and the red-eyed woman had auburn red streaks interwoven into her hair. They were both quite striking.
“Hold on Silmeryn,” the gold eyed twin insisted, putting a hand over her sister’s blade hand. “I don’t think they are dangerous.”
“Pity,” Elladan replied as Elrohir moved to join his brother. “My enemies find me quite dangerous.”
“And who are your enemies?” the red-eyed twin, the one called Silmeryn, asked.
“Anyone who is an ally of the dark lord,” Elladan replied. “Somehow you don’t strike me as allies with him.”
“You are from Middle Earth then?” Silmeryn asked. She lowered her sword and Elrohir raised a brow at her strange question, but as he took the moment to glance around, he found himself in what looked like an alley sandwiched between two towering brick buildings and a third building behind them, and the very ground beneath them was made of concrete.
“Where else would we be from?” Elrohir asked cautiously, feeling alarmed. They were supposed to be in the forest north of Imladris.
“Come with us,” said the yellow eyed elf. Elrohir stepped forward and noted what looked like a series of wands along the woman’s waist belt.
“You are a mage?” he asked curiously. All elves on Middle Earth possessed some element of magic, even those who didn’t pay much attention to their studies. But this elf possessed no weapon other than a short dagger, leading Elrohir to believe that the wands were her main defense.
“I studied with wizards in Harad,” she replied, glancing at her sister. “That’s where we’re from.”
“We are from Imladris. Rivendell,” Elladan replied. The two women exchanged glances.
“We were on our way to Imladris,” Silmeryn said. “Silmerae and I. We were on our way to find our father, Glorfindel.”
“Glorfindel?” Elrohir repeated as an image of the legendary elf who had resided in Rivendell since long before the twin’s birth was conjured into his mind. He’d taught the twins and their sister the history of Middle Earth as he had lived through the first age until his death during the fall of Gondolin. “We weren’t aware he had children.”
“We were born in Lindon,” said Silmerae. “In the second age, not long after Glorfindel was returned by the Valar. Our mother, originally from Harad. Their encounter was short. I don’t even think he knows about us.”
“I’m sure he will want to see you,” Elladan assured her, but as they all walked to the end of the alley, and the sights and sounds of the strange seaside town they found themselves at could clearly be seen, Elrohir and Elladan were shocked by what they saw.
The strangest metal machines moved up and down the black tar street. Humans were visible inside them as they moved about. And humans dressed in the most unusual way walked about.
“By the Valar!” Elladan exclaimed as his hand went to grip his sword. “What madness is this?”
“A strange world,” Silmeryn explained. “We arrived only minutes before you did. We were assaulted by a brilliant ball of energy.”
“As were we,” Elrohir replied nervously as he took in the sights. There was a small cart down the street and humans lined up. “Maybe we can ask them?”
Elladan glanced at him and nodded. The four of them approached the humans cautiously, zeroing in on a man who wore a pair of board shorts and a tank top. His hair was cut short, and he wore a pair of dark glasses on his head.
“Excuse me, master human,” Elladan announced. The human looked him up and down with a puzzled look on his face. “Would you mind telling me what land this is?”
“Uh, did you get lost on your way to the renaissance fair or something?” the man replied as he looked at the others. Elrohir glanced at all the other humans who glanced their way, scrutinizing their appearance and he was painfully aware of how much they stood out in their long tunics and pants and their armor and weapons.
“I’m uncertain what you mean,” Elladan replied. “What land do you call this?”
“California?” the man said, as if it should be obvious. “Look, I am just trying to buy a hot dog for lunch. Why don’t you ask someone else?”
“Hot dog?” Elladan repeated, glancing at his brother. “You intend to eat a dog?”
Silmeryn sighed and moved to grab Elladan by the arm. She smiled politely at the man and forcefully turned the elf away. “Come on,” she insisted. “We must blend in.”
Silmeryn and Silmerae both wore knee length adventuring dresses with high boots and leather armor and bracers. Silmerae wore a green dress and Silmeryn’s was brown.
“I don’t want to blend in,” Elrohir complained. “I don’t want to wear those strange clothes the humans are wearing, nor do I want to enter one of those strange metal carriages.”
“Well, we may have no choice, come on,” Silmeryn was clearly used to taking the lead and in many ways, her outgoing personality reminded Elrohir of his brother. Silmerae was quiet and seemed content to follow her sister’s lead. Elrohir fell inline beside Silmerae, following their twin brother and sister…
California, Sunnydale
21st century
Willow stepped off the bus feeling nervous about being back in Sunnydale. After the things she had done, she wondered if her friends would ever look at her the same way again. It had been many months, and she felt grounded and in control and ready to be part of society again. The therapy she had received in England had been healing, but she had to wonder how healed she really was? Would an addiction to magic ever threaten her again? Would she ever be able to practice magic again without letting it go too far? She didn’t know.
But it felt good to be back, anyway. Although, as she made her way down the street toward Buffy’s house, she felt uneasy. No one had been there to meet her at the bus station. Maybe she was expecting too much, but she couldn’t help but feel slighted by the seeming lack of interest.
She turned onto the street, intending to cut through downtown, a typical shortcut, when she saw the shadow on the sidewalk. It was early evening, and the sun had begun its way toward the horizon, though it still illuminated her way, enough for her to catch sight of the shadow and she turned and frowned when she saw who it was.
“Hey Willow,” Amy said as she stood on the sidewalk. Amy was the one who introduced Willow to the warlock who had helped start off her addiction to dark magic, and so Willow was immediately on alert.
“What do you want?” Willow asked cautiously as she glanced around nervously.
“I heard you were back in town,” Amy said. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.”
“Better,” Willow replied, not letting her guard down for a second.
“I’m not involved with that dark magic gang anymore, I swear,” Amy insisted, putting up her hands as she noted Willow’s trepidation. “They were bad news. I know that now. Hey are you going to see Buffy?”
“Yeah,” Willow said with a nod, feeling a little better after Amy’s admission. But something about her didn’t make her want to trust her just yet.
“Look, I get it,” Amy insisted as she took a few steps back. “You don’t want me around. You don’t want to trust me. Maybe that would change if you had any idea what I have been through. See you around.”
Before Willow could say anymore, Amy turned and stalked back down the street. As Willow watched her, she almost stopped her, wanting so much to trust her, but she just couldn’t. So she let her go. With a sigh, she turned and headed back toward the residential area where Buffy lived. Where she and Tara had lived. She swallowed, remembering the love of her life and how her death had helped to push Willow over the already unsteady ledge she had been teetering on, the ledge that was magic addiction.
When she got to the edge of downtown, she noticed another figure dart across the grassy park across the street.
“Come back here, you blood sucking freak!” came a feminine voice. Encouraged, Willow hurried across the street, hoping to see Buffy in the middle of a fight with vampires. But as she came up over the grassy hill, she saw a lone woman. The young woman whirled, revealing a tall redhead wearing a simple blue jacket and a plaid button-up shirt and jeans.
“Vampires don’t come out during the day, you know,” Willow informed her. “What were you chasing?”
“Yeah normally they don’t,” the woman agreed. “Unless they are dressed in weird poof resistant helmets. I guess this one was just a little more inventive than most. I got him, though.”
Willow eyed her. Normally, people weren’t aware of the paranormal. Outside of Willow and her friends, who kept the truth about the monsters of the world a tight secret, and, of course, the British team of Watchers.
“Are you a hunter?” the woman asked as she put a rather large looking knife into her backpack.
“Hunter?”
“You know, a person who hunts vampires and other creepy shit?”
Willow shrugged. “I guess you could call me and my friends that,” she said. “I’m Willow Rosenburg. I’m best friends with the slayer.”
“Slayer?”
“You know, the vampire slayer. I mean, if you are hunting monsters in Sunnydale, land of the Hell mouth, you would know who the slayer is, wouldn’t you?”
“Not really,” the woman said with a shrug. “I never heard of a Hell mouth or a Vampire Slayer. I just got back from Louisiana with this,” she held up a backpack. “It's full of magical items that my friends need to save the world. But the guys I stole it from… they'll be looking for me.”
“Oh,” Willow asked, intrigued by a little wary of the magical items, considering her magical addiction. “Well my friends and I saved the world a couple of times too. I could help. Just… I'd rather keep away from magical stuff if you don’t mind. I sort of had an addiction.”
The woman shrugged. “Don't worry I don't really know magic, I just know computers,” she explained. “I’m Charlie Bradbury, by the way.”
Willow smiled and walked up to her. “Oh, hey, I know computers too, maybe I can help!” Willow exclaimed. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to the slayer.”
As they walked through the residential area, they two swapped stories. Willow eagerly told Charlie about all the apocalypses that she and her friends had helped take care of. Everything from the mayor turning into a worm and eating their school principal to Glory, the hell goddess.
But in exchange, Charlie told Willow that she was a hunter and was helping Sam and Dean Winchester to stop the archangel Michael from taking over the world like he had in an alternate reality. She explained that Sam and Dean Winchester were a part of an entire network of monster hunters, known simply as Hunters.
As they turned onto Buffy’s street, though, a man stepped out onto their path, dressed in the most bizarre clothes either of them had ever seen. He was tall with his long dark hair blowing in the wind, revealing curiously pointed ears.
“I’m sorry, can you tell us what land you call this?” the man asked softly.
“Elrohir!” came a sharp response from around the corner as another man, identical in appearance, save for his green eyes, came around the corner. “I told you these humans will not help us.”
“Wait, maybe we will,” Willow insisted, stepping forward as the two- twins, apparently, started to turn back. She could see how out of place the two of them looked. “Who are you? It’s okay, you can tell us the truth. I promise we’ll believe you.”
“Trust me, we’ve seen all manner of crazy,” Charlie added, Willow met her eyes and smiled. She wanted to know what stories Charlie may have.
“We’re elves,” Elrohir blurted out before the other elf could stop him. “The white energy brought us here and we are just trying to find our way home.”
Willow sighed. “Come on, my friend’s house is just around the corner,” she said. “We’ll take care of you and you can tell us everything.”
They were quickly joined by two more elves, two women, and the six of them finally made it to Buffy’s house, only to find it deserted. Willow frowned as she checked all the rooms and confirmed no one was home, after finding the door unlocked.
“Maybe they went out,” she said, feeling dismayed. She had told them she would be home today. Did they forget? Or did they simply want nothing to do with her? She couldn’t be certain.
But whatever happened, she was determined that this would be her fresh start.