By Dawn's Early Light by Grundy

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The Choice of the Peredhil

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Buffy couldn’t have said how long she was lost in her grandmother’s gaze before she remembered that her brothers and grandfather were also present. She knew that what had passed between herself and Galadriel had not been said out loud, and was intended for her alone.

Galadriel tucked her granddaughter to her side, as if loathe to let go of her even for an instant, as she regarded her grandsons.

“Your journey here was not free from adventure,” she said conversationally.

“No, grandmother,” Elrohir said with a grin. “There are still yrch in the mountains, but that is just as well. I think our small sister would have been- what was her phrase?”

Elladan smirked.

“Bored out of her gourd, I believe it was,” he told his twin. “Fortunately, she was kept too busy showing us how best to dispatch yrch to have time for boredom.”

Celeborn regarded all three of his grandchildren with some consternation.

“Your sister is only just returned to us and you would risk her to hunt yrch?”

“It was no big, really,” Buffy snorted. “Yrch are pretty lame as demons go. No risk. Well, except for my shoes.”

She felt her grandmother’s silent laughter as she glanced sadly at her boots. Elladan had been right- they were a hopeless mess. When she looked up again, she found her grandfather seemed to be doing that mental counting thing Ada did from time to time when they were trying his patience. The twins were trying hard not to smirk and not quite succeeding.

“Besides,” Elrohir pointed out, “Anariel has the same choice as the rest of us- unless she intends to be counted with the Edain, the worst the yrch can do is send her to wreak havoc in Mandos’ halls.”

His expression suggested this would be greatly amusing, although Buffy had no idea what he was talking about. She knew Mandos was one of the Valar, but among the many things she hadn’t paid much attention to was the pantheon of higher beings in Arda. She was just happy to have the local equivalent of Powers not messing with her life.

“What choice?” Buffy asked, confused. “Make with the 'splaining, please?”

“The choice of the half-elven,” Celeborn said heavily, “is granted to each of your father’s children, as it was to him and his brother. You may choose which kindred to be counted among- Eldar or Edain. The Gift of Men is yours to accept or refuse as you will. But we may hope that choice lies many years before you yet.”

The seriousness with which he treated the choice told Buffy that this was something that worried him deeply. Mortals died- really, truly died, not like elves who would reincarnate after a while. When mortals died, unlike elves, they would pass from the circles of Arda to whatever awaited them after death- and the elves were as unclear about what that might be as any mortal. All they knew was that it was a permanent parting, with no hope of seeing their lost friends or kin again in the West.

“No,” Galadriel said, startling the men, “it does not. Buffy’s choice has already been made. She is of the Eldar. She refused the Gift when she was still in that other world of Men.”

Buffy’s head spun. She had no idea how Galadriel had known- she hadn’t told Ada. She hadn’t even told her mother- she’d never wanted to worry her. Xander had revived her and that was the end of it.

“I didn’t know,” she whispered, shocked at the implication- and certain why her parents had not mentioned this choice sooner. Her friends were mortal.

Galadriel’s arm was still about her, and her grandmother’s mind touched hers, feather light, comforting her with more than just words.

“You may not have known,” she said gently, “but you chose.”

“Anariel, you died in that other world?”

She couldn’t have said which of her brothers had asked, the voice was so hoarse with shock. Looking at them, she saw both her brothers’ faces had drained of all color.

“It was only for a minute,” she told them. “Don’t look like that! I was fighting the Master and I drowned, but Xander revived me.”

Elladan flushed, looking guilty.

“And we thought him the least worthy of your companions. We have misjudged him badly.”

Buffy raised an eyebrow. They were going to have a talk later about how her brothers had come to that particular conclusion.

“You must tell your mother,” Celeborn said gently. “And your father. They feared that you, more than any of your brothers or sisters, would choose to number among the Edain.”

Then Galadriel spoke again, in Buffy’s head.

Your father has foreseen that he will lose one of his daughters to death. After you vanished with your mother, he feared it was you.

Buffy felt her heart breaking.

And when I returned with mortals as my sworn brothers and sisters, he believed I would yet be lost to him. But if it is not me…

“Your brothers and sisters’ choices lie yet before them,” Galadriel told her aloud. “You cannot spare them their choice, nor your parents the worry of how they may choose. Do not let your heart be troubled. You must wash and rest after your long journey. But before your brothers show you where you will stay, I greatly desire to meet your companions.”