Title: Drawn to Our Fate

Author: Jinni

Pairing: W/Legolas

Rating: PG13

Genre: BtVS/LotR Crossover

Disclaimer: All things BtVS belong to Joss Whedon, et al. All things LotR belong to JRR Tolkien, et al.

Distribution: Anyone who has the other "Drawn. . ." fics. Everyone else – don’t ask.

Author’s Note: Pairing# 111 at The Quickie Challenge: http://quickie.moonlitpaths.com

Notes2: Sequel to "Drawn Together".

Notes3: Contains spoilers for the LotR: TT movie.

~*~

So much time had passed since the day she gotten into a boat with the others and left the beauty and sanctity of Lorien and the city in the trees that Galadriel and Celeborn had created. She missed them, her confidants.

So much had happened in those days, weeks, months, since she had left the safety of the Elven woods to venture out with the Fellowship, to follow her Intended in a quest that was foolhardy at times, and miraculous at others. They had lost Boromir early on. The lure of the ring had gotten hold of his soul, Sauron working his evil darkness through that little hunk of magicked metal. He had been a good man, though foolish at times and stubborn at others. He had carried within him a pride for Gondor that was unrivaled, even by the one that was its rightful king.

The Fellowship had been broken at that point. Merry and Pippen were captured by the Uruk-hai. Sam and Frodo had taken off together to go on to Mount Doom by themselves.

And the rest of her no longer merry group?

They would find Merry and Pippen, of course.

In the end they had found not Merry and Pippen, but someone that brought word of them. Someone she had thought never again to see.

Gandalf.

It had broken her heart to look on his face, both the same and different at the same time. And it had also filled her with joy. Gandalf was not dead. Changed and sorta creepy at times, but not dead.

And being not dead was a very good thing.

And so, for a short while, they were able to find happiness.

It was Edoras, and their subsequent flight to Helms Deep, that changed everything.

"This is ridiculous," Willow murmured to Legolas, coming to stand alongside him. Her hair was bound in a braid, woven only that morning by her Intended before they set out from Edoras. A tight fitting leather vest, over a silky green shirt, and a pair of leather breeches filled out her outfit. It was not the ensemble of a maiden. There were no dresses in her packs and likely would never be until such time as they were done with this quest and could return either to Lorien, Mirkwood, or board the ships to the Undying Land. Her clothing was that of a warrior, like that of her lover. She had a quiver of arrows on her back, a bow slung over one arm. When the time came to fight she would be ready.

Her eyes searched the inky blackness of the night. Somewhere nearby men and boys were readying themselves for the battle to come. They would die tonight. Young boys, no more than children, would give their lives in a futile cause.

"What is ridiculous, my love?"

"This fight. Here. Now. With no reinforcements," her whispered frustrations were said in Elvish, under her breath so that only he, and not the men and boys around them, could hear.

He didn’t speak and she knew she was right. Not only would Theoden’s people die because of his stubbornness, but they very well might as well. She sighed, leaning her head onto his shoulder.

"I love you. If something happens to me. . ."

"Then I shall kill those who slew you and seek to join you in the havens myself!" Legolas whispered fiercely, blue eyes burning a hole into her own. "Do not say such things! We will be fine. Would that I had left you in Lorien so that you were far from this madness."

Willow smiled sadly. "And who would keep you in line, then, my love?"

He chuckled, tilting her chin up so that her lips were within easy reach. The kiss they shared made up in love what it lacked in passion. It was a simple gesture of the unity they shared in mind and soul.

A horn sounding shattered their moment, and they pulled apart, dazed and more than a little confused.

"That’s not the sound of an orc horn. . ." Willow muttered, looking back out into the darkness. The moon was not yet high enough to give off light for her to see by, and she could make out nothing in the blackness.

"By the grace of the Valar. . ." Legolas swore, grabbing her arm and running with her down off of the battlements, towards gates that were even now being opened. He knew that horn. It wasn’t an orc’s horn at all. Or any horn that Sauron or Sarumon would ever have leave to lay their hands upon.

"Haldir!" Willow saw him first, the leader of this group of Elven reinforcements, already speaking with Theoden. She ran to him, throwing her arms around the ‘brother’ she had not seen in so long. "I’ve missed you so, brother mine."

Haldir smiled tightly, but it was not without warmth despite his obvious level of stress. "And I, you, dearest one."

"You are here to help?" Silly question, she chided herself silently. Of course this mass of Elven fighters and archers was here to help. It brought tears to her eyes.

They would still be outnumbered, but not by as much as before.

Perhaps there was hope they would live through the night, after all.

~*~

She saw him fall, and opened her mouth to scream. The sky crackled with lightning as the force of her true power was unleashed upon the masses of Uruk-hai closest to her. They were incinerated where they stood, burnt to piles of ashes by the electrical fire that she wielded.

Willow couldn’t feel, her heart was aching so much that she could no longer think clearly. Someone was yelling for her to stop before she hit an innocent, but she couldn’t let go. All she could see was the body, laying so still; the one that she got closer and closer to with every step.

And then she reached it, falling to her knees, her power fading out as she collapsed in exhausted grief. She lifted her brother’s head to her lap, cradling it as wet tears fell onto eyes that would never open again.

"Haldir," she moaned, rocking back and forth, her hands smoothing down those luxurious locks of blonde hair that she had once envied for their ability to stay neat and tidy in situations her own hair went nuts in. Like now. He was so pretty, even in death.

"Willow! Come on!"

Strong arms were lifting her up, tearing her from Haldir’s body. She shrieked, but did not call on her magics. She didn’t struggle against the arms that held her. Her Intended’s, she recognized feebly. He was alive. She was alive.

But Haldir was dead.

"No. . . no. . ." she muttered, shaking her head in grief. Legolas was cradling her in his arms. He needed to be fighting and here he was, holding her. She let him, sobbing for a long minute into his tunic as the battle waged on. They were inside of the keep now. The Uruk-hai had pierced the outer walls. "He’s dead. . . Haldir. . ."

She saw the sadness in Legolas’ eyes. He had been friends with her ‘brother’. This was a pain they would share if and when they lived through the night.

And they did.

In the light of the morning sun, with the Uruk-hai on the run, the Rohhirim chasing after them like angels from the heavens, she stood over the body of her brother, tears falling down her face as her Intended held her with tears in his own eyes. She would see this to the end now not because it was the right thing to do or because it had to be done for the sake of the world –

But because Haldir had to be avenged.

She would be his avenging angel.

"I swear," she whispered. "You did not die in vain. You will not go unavenged."

And behind her, Legolas echoed the sentiment.

Let Sarumon tremble in fear for the day she laid eyes upon him at last.

~*~The End~*~