Author: Restive Nature (aka bavite)
Rating: PG-13 (at most)
Pairing: no pairing this chapter
Disclaimer: All things Buffy belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. All things Lord of the Rings belong to Tolkien.
Timeline: This story is a continuation fic of “The 8 Days of Hanukkah”. It is Season Three February after Willow has returned from Middle Earth. Takes place just after the episode “The Zeppo”.
Summary: Always with a thirst for knowledge, Legolas finds a way to travel to Sunnydale to learn more of Willow’s world, and her holidays.
Chapter Two
Catching Up
Willow Rosenberg was dog tired. After the last battle against the Hellmouth, she was worn out, sleep for a week, despite having school, never give up her pillow for anything, tired. And that was how she came to be in the predicament she was in. For now that she was onto the dangers that the Hellmouth offered, some garden variety, such as Vampires and some not so normal, such as those freaky Sisterhood of Jhe demons, her deep subconscious just wouldn’t allow her to sleep through strange noises.
So you could say she was sleep through any normal disturbance routine. And someone sneaking through her house could have been described as normal. But through her magic, Willow could almost get a sense of something otherworldly about the unwelcome nocturnal visitor. And strangely enough, it was something familiar to her. Like she had encountered it before. But she couldn’t quite place her finger on it. She knew it wasn’t Angel. He had been de-invited into her house and couldn’t get in again until she verbally invited him. And besides, he was polite enough to knock, or at least wait just inside a door until someone was aware of his presence. So she could rule him out. And as far as Willow knew, she hadn’t invited any other Vampires into her home. She was pretty sure she’d know it if she did. She’d either be dead or turned if she had.
Of course, that didn’t rule out her parents. She couldn’t quite explain to them that Vampires, which of course didn’t exist to them, aside from in fairy tales, were real. So instead, she’d come up with a cock and bull theory about studying the psychological effects of not verbally inviting people to do things, but using gestures instead. And surprisingly enough, her parents had taken up her theory and ran with it. They were even on a United States tour to research further and discuss their findings. It was all too exhaustive to think of and all Willow could register at the moment, was that her parents weren’t home. Again.
But just because she was alone in the house didn’t mean she was without protection. For even before her best friend Buffy Summers had shown up in Sunnydale, her other best friend, Xander Harris, had insisted that she have some sort of home defense. And though she’d never used it before, Willow was fully aware of the solid oak baseball bat under her bed. Rolling to her side as she held her breath, mostly to keep an intruder from pinpointing her location, than from any fear, Willow extracted the bat.
And her eyes fell on her crate of magic supplies. This was another bonus. After restoring Angel’s soul the previous school year, and the few spells she had done since, Willow found that she was gaining strength in magic. If the bat didn’t work, some magic just might. Her other hand reached for the crate and moved it slowly out from under the bed. Quickly running through the limited amount of spells she knew, Willow tried to recall what she would need.
Most things were a little too complicated for an emergency, such as this might turn out to be. But Willow knew that she could quickly throw a darkening and fog-type spell upon the intruder. That way, she could see the person, but that person would be unable to see her. And then she could brain them.
So Willow was all ready. The candle was lit, the spell in her mind and the bat, firmly in her grip. But still, she forgot her extreme tiredness. And the fact that she was getting slightly inured when it came to pesky little things like people sneaking into her home. She should have noticed that her body wasn’t doing its usual heart-pounding, blood thrumming through her veins, adrenalin boosting thing that kept her from making serious mistakes.
And that’s how it came to be that when Legolas Greenleaf came through the door of his young friend’s bedroom, he had a lit candle thrown at his head while Willow frantically blew on the tip of a wooden cudgel.
*****
It had been a trying ten days for the Mirkwood Elf. He’d arrived in a strange vista of hard topped roads and endless grey buildings. The noise that one would normally associate with a city was deafening to him. The smell was gut-wrenching and the attitude of the locals was incorrigible. Legolas had swallowed his reserve, and the last tiny bit of lembas bread that was trying to escape his churning stomach, and approached a woman walking on the lighter grey stone walkway. Before he could even inquire as to his newfound whereabouts, she was screaming and pointing at the daggers at his side. It had drawn too much attention too quickly. Other people began to surround them and it was not long until a piercing shriek reached his ears. He mistook it for the caterwaul of an enraged animal, until the source of the noise appeared.
And it was even more fearsome than he’d imagined. Red and blue light spun around as a strange horseless carriage, a metallic contraption such as Saruman might have imagined and contrived for, arrived on scene.
And Legolas, being the smart Elf with the calm demeanor in trying times, did the only thing he could think of. He fled.
Unknown to him, it was just his luck that the police officers of Sunnydale California, for that was what they were and where they were located, were deeply stupid, as many people put it. They hadn’t gotten a clear look at the suspect and with so many witnesses, were quite sure that they’d never catch the guy. Especially when reports were made that the suspect had pointy ears. And really, who was crazy enough to walk around these days with daggers hanging from their waist? Or a sword on their back? And once again, the collective group denial that blanketed the general population of Il Boca del Inferno settled in and the police eventually forgot all about Legolas and his arrival.
But Legolas, once clear of the scene, was able to stumble onto a small park-like area. He was a little unnerved by the area. But he was unsure if it was his nerves still reacting to the rush of escaping the small mob, or the woods itself. He found a sturdy looking tree and climbed it rapidly with his agile skill. He settled himself amidst the wide branches and brilliant green foliage and set his mind to the matter if deciphering his problems.
The first on his mind was the matter he had just escaped. Obviously people in this town were not inclined to wear their defenses so openly. And they were adverse to others that did. That seemed to dictate that good manners inclined one to behave as others did, by their rules when you were in their territory. That was easy enough to understand. But Legolas also had the dread feeling, mostly from what Willow had told him, that he would be a fool to abandon his weaponry. So a compromise must be reached. Legolas swiftly had decided that he would relegate his larger weapons to a hiding spot and conceal his smaller daggers about his person. That decided, he moved on to his next thought. How to find Miss Willow.
Legolas had been under the assumption that the spell Gandalf had wrought would take him directly to the young redheaded witch. He was just as obviously mistaken. Unless Willow had been there and he hadn’t seen her. But he’d eyed the area thoroughly before approaching that other woman. Unless of course, Willow had been in one of those strange metal and glass enclosures. That was certainly a possibility. But accepting that meant that Legolas would have to return to the scene of his embarrassment and confusion. And he wasn’t quite ready to do that.
That evening, he discovered why he was so unnerved by the small wooded copse he was in. A was a resting place for the dead. That in itself bothered him a slight bit. As an Elf, Legolas was Immortal. Yes, he could be killed, yes he could pass on physically, due to extreme grief, but his soul would go on. He was simply not used to the aura permeating the long rest of the race of Men whom had died. There was something quite disconcerting about it, Legolas had decided. And upon recognizing that fact, Legolas had seen his first Vampire.
He was fascinated as the creature fought to escape its dank earthen grave. Its foul visage was present for the world to see. Legolas had contemplated on waiting for the Vampire Slayer, the one that Willow had spoken of so warmly and fondly, to arrive. But it didn’t take him long to realize from his vantage point, that it might be a long wait. The city was too large for one lone girl to make the rounds of it each evening in a reasonable manner, especially when she’d have to stop and kill as she moved about. And if he remembered correctly, newly risen Vampires weren’t known for their patience. As soon as that demon was free, it would go looking to slaughter and feed on an innocent bystander. And Legolas certainly couldn’t allow that. So, taking careful aim, he’d launched one of his precious arrows through the chest of the foul beast.
The only indication the Vampire had of danger, was when the stone tip of an arrow bounced off of the gravestone behind it. And then the thing was dust. Legolas was thrilled beyond what he’d expected to see that his arrow had gone completely through the monster. He recalled Willow telling him that wooden implements were what killed these beasts. But leaving said wooden implement in the heart of the beast often caused its destruction, right along with the fell creature. But in this case, the arrow was not lost and could be used again. It was a momentary thought to Legolas to wonder if the feathers and flinted tip of the arrow would survive, should the body of the arrow lodge within the demons body. But it was no matter. He’d either discover that or not if he kept up this activity.
Legolas had patrolled the rest of the copse, but found nothing more amiss. He was tempted to continue searching out the dread beasts, but realized that being unfamiliar with the territory could just as easily land him in more trouble. So he resigned himself to figuring out what he was going to do to find little Miss Willow.
Through the night, he decided that he was going to have to try and disguise himself as one of race of Men. To that extent, he unwound his braids and flattened his hair over his ears. There wasn’t much he could do about his clothing. But he pared down to bare minimums. That meant he would wear his breeches and under tunic. They were the closest items he had to the clothing he could see worn by others still roaming through the artificially lit streets of the city. His cloak was most definitely out of place. His soft leather half boots would have to suffice, though Legolas could see that many types of footwear were produced and used by the citizenry.
His next thought was that come morning, he would try again somewhere else to approach a citizen and find Willow. And come morning, he’d remembered as much of the information Willow had consciously and unconsciously imparted to him. Her days, on what she called weak days, were filled with school. That was an impressive thought. The learning and education of masses of children all at once. It was an unfamiliar routine to Legolas, who was more used to the private schooling that tutors and parents provided to younglings. But it gave him a starting point.
Legolas had this time approached a man, feeling that a man would feel more inclined to help because a man would be less vulnerable. But whatever his reasoning, the gamble paid off and the man, though appearing to be rushed, waited to hear out Legolas’ request, that he needed to find Willow Rosenberg at school.
The man had asked if Legolas was a transfer student. Legolas had honestly answered no, slightly unsure. Then the man had just smiled and given him directions to the school, saying that he could ask at the main “off-us” for Willow’s classroom number. Legolas had thanked him warmly and stepped back so that the busy seeming man could continue on his way.
He returned to his hiding place in the copse and made sure that his belongings were firmly hidden. He considered trying to communicate with the tree and ask for it’s assistance in concealment. But like some flora of his home world, the tree was asleep or had never even been woken. It was a saddening thought to the Elf, but he accepted that this word was much different from his own. So, with a jaunty step, Legolas began the trek to the school and the main “off-us”.
It was a few miles to walk, but that bothered Legolas little. He was used to walking. He’d become accustomed to riding horse as well, but as none were present, he contented himself to discovering Willow's world in an age old manner.
When he’d finally arrived at the school, he’d inquired of another young man, where the main “off-us” was. The young man had given him a strangely contemplative look, a mercurial impish glint in his eyes and had escorted Legolas to the off-us. He had chattered on incessantly and Legolas was relieved to escape into the cool stone structure of a large building. He followed the young man down some confusing halls before they finally stopped at a closed door room. The young man ignored any proprietary that indicated one should knock and just entered the room. Legolas surmised that perhaps a school was more like a common area that a private home. That made more sense, as so many children were in attendance. There was no time to answer if every child were to knock. Their whole days would be spent in polite recourse. Once the young man who had guided Legolas offered up an invitation to a “cough hee” house, which Legolas declined as politely as he could manage, the male left, citing a need to get to class.
Another woman was standing behind a long counter working at what seemed to be a large glowing box. She’d glanced up and inquired as to how she could help Legolas. With a sigh of relief, Legolas had inquired as to Willow’s whereabouts. But to his disappointment, the woman had informed Legolas that she couldn’t give out information on student’s or there whereabouts. The woman had asked if there was an emergency and if he were a relative. Legolas’ mind had clutched to that ideal. True, he was not the kind of Elf to lie, but he was beginning to get desperate. So he kindly told the woman that he was Willow’s cousin and there had been an accident. This wasn’t so very far from the truth.
But then another problem arose. The woman had no indication of Willow attending the school. Legolas was upset at learning this and insisted that Willow attended school. The woman tried to be helpful, informing him that perhaps he had the wrong “university”. Legolas had thought on it a moment and admitted that Willow was never specific about her school. Just that she lived in Sunnydale and attended “high” school. And Legolas had surmised that with the tall buildings, that this must be the place.
There had been a short moment of surprise and then the woman had burst out laughing. And then she had explained to a thoroughly embarrassed Legolas that he was at the wrong school. That high school was only one of many steps through the educational world. The place he was in now was dedicated to the specialized training that came after the more generalized studies of high school, which came after junior high, which came after elementary. With new directions to the local high school, the red faced Elf left the room, shaking his head over the mutterings of the woman on “silly foreigners who can’t understand our school systems.”
Legolas’ next tactic was to return to the other school. The real high school. But since the walk had taken most of the day, to get around the town and avoid the suspicions of the citizenry, who stared at him in the most awful fashion, Legolas found he was too late. The high school, as he was directed to, was closed up tight. All of the artificial seeming lights were out, but for a few shining over a large square blockage that had white lines painted in an incomplete pattern or rectangles. Legolas couldn’t understand that and didn’t even bother to try. All he knew was that he had to find Willow, since her world was confusing him beyond belief.
He resolved to return early the next morning and hope that he could spot her among the students that attended the school. And so he returned to his copse, relieved to find that his belongings were still safely hidden away. He spent some time eating a boring meal of lembas bread and dried, smoked deer meat. The rest of his evening was spent hunting out different areas of where the living dead congregated. In the back of his mind, he hoped to perhaps run into this young Slayer friend of Willow’s. He was sure that Willow would have mentioned him to her, after her sojourn to his world before. And if Legolas could find Buffy, then he was sure that she would gladly lead him to Willow. But alas, he wasn’t to find Buffy that evening. Or any other.
If the young woman had any pattern of searching out her enemy, Legolas could not discern it in the coming nights. Which he supposed was very logical of the young woman. There was nothing so telling as predictability. And the Slayer could not afford to have her enemy know her moves and so be able to avoid her, or worse, plan a trap. So Legolas wasn’t too upset that he didn’t find her.
But he was very upset when the next morning finally came. He was able to get to the high school early enough. And soon, those strange metal contraptions began to fill up the square enclosure with the white lines. Legolas craned his neck often to find his redheaded Willow, but all of these people were too old to be her.
There was a lull in time that Legolas had to wonder at. He had been informed that this was a school for younger people, yet all these people were adults, some of them aged beyond what society might consider useful. But Legolas finally managed to settle in again as he heard one murmuring about lesson plans as he rushed by. These must then be those that taught the younglings. They arrived earlier to prepare the school for the day’s lessons. Though some seemed to do so very grudgingly.
After a short wait, more metal carriages began arriving and younger people began to move about. Many came together in a metal carriage, some by their selves. Legolas knew his eyes were wide when a humungous yellow contraption pulled up in front of the school and more than twenty younglings descended from the steps inside. How remarkable it all was!
But still there was no sign of Willow. Perhaps he would have had better luck if it weren’t for his slightly off appearance, he decided later. But once again, a young seeming man approached him, inquiring as to why he was there. This time, the little white lie rolled off of Legolas’ tongue with ease. He was to meet his cousin Willow and no he wasn’t a student there. He hadn’t seen Willow yet, but he was sure that she’d arrive soon.
But the young man was determined to be helpful and mentioned that he hadn’t seen Willow yet. And that If he was to check at the off-us, they could tell him where she’d be. Legolas was wary of this scheme immediately, since it had been a cause of embarrassment before. But when the young man politely pointed out that unauthorized adults weren’t to be on camp-us without permission from the off-us that Legolas decided to give in. He demanded once more the reassurance that the off-us would help him find Willow. He received it just as another youngling, a female this time, was approaching him with a large smile on her face. But at the mention of Willow’s name, her smile disappeared and her demeanor turned haughty. Legolas caught a nasty rash of words from her mouth with his keen hearing. None of the words were words that could be repeated in polite company and Legolas knew very well that they were inclined towards Willow, though he had little idea what a “goody two shoes, man stealing com-pew-tor nurd” might be and how it applied to the sweet redhead. But at the chance of finding his friend, he had no time to waste in applying time to rectifying the viperous tongue of the spoiled young woman, now striding away from him.
The second time that Legolas entered an off-us, he had a better idea what to expect. Again, there was a middle-aged female, working steadily at a glowing box. Legolas waited patiently until she glanced up from her work. She smiled nicely enough at him, but Legolas could tell immediately that she was only observing a modicum of forced politeness. She’d asked how she could help and Legolas quickly launched into his story of being Willow’s cousin. And of waiting for her in what he discovered was the “parking lot”. Another student had informed him of the visitor’s policy that required him to sign in at the off-us. The lady was nodding and Legolas was relieved that she believed him. But then another dreadful thing happened. She asked him for identification and to sign in to the registrar.
Well, such a thing had never happened to Legolas before. Always when he had introduced himself, or had others perform such a duty, no one had ever questioned the validity of who he was. How was he supposed to respond to that? To think it over for a moment, he took the slim instrument that the woman offered, turning it over in his hands. He watched her for a moment, noting that she had a similar instrument and was using it to write down some notations on another sheaf of papers. At once, he realized that this was a new form of quill and ink. How ingenious to put a supply of ink in the quill, or well, quill like form.
He then bent his head and after a moment of getting used to the smooth flow of the ink onto the extremely thin and pale parchment, signed his name in the tengwar alphabet that was the basis of his people’s written language. Unfortunately, it looked nothing like the words that were set previously on the page. Legolas had glanced up nervously at the female, who seemed entranced by his written form. She had then asked if that was Chinese or Japanese. Of course Legolas had no clue. And he didn’t dare think that he should answer in the truth, else she might think him crazy. If she didn’t already. He just smiled, hoping that the woman would forget about this identification. But she didn’t.
He hemmed and hawed for a moment, then admitted that he didn’t have any identification. The female looked perplexed, as if she’d never ever heard of this sort of thing happening. And to both of their relief, a short, very short man wearing many layers of clothing, stepped out of another room in the off-us. He asked what the problem was, just as Legolas began to ask if he could just leave a message for Willow. The female quickly explained what Legolas had asked and the short, balding man told Legolas that he could most certainly leave a message for Miss Rosenberg. With a modicum of relief, Legolas dictated the message to the woman, who dutifully wrote it down.
It was a simple note that would make sense to Willow, but wouldn’t seem out of the ordinary to others. Legolas, her friend whom she had visited with before Hanukkah at Rivendell was there to see her. Could she meet him at the park down the street after school was finished? After the note was complete, Legolas thanked both the man and woman profusely and promised that he was leaving the school grounds and would not return without his identification next time. The woman smiled, but there was something distinctly off about the little man. The smile on his face and the gleam in his eyes set Legolas’ teeth on edge. And as he left the off-us, he could have sworn that he heard something being crumpled.
To Legolas’ extreme disappointment, Willow did not show up that afternoon. He’d waited dutifully until evening had long set. Perhaps he hadn’t been specific enough about which park he meant. He didn’t really have a word for what the place actually was. He knew that he’d arouse more suspicion if he’d asked Willow to meet him at a specific tomb. And he knew that there was more than one copse such as this in this forsaken town.
The days went on and Legolas dared approach the school once more. He’d stayed out of sight of most people, having found an accommodating tree to watch from. But again he had no sighting of the redheaded Willow. He wondered if perhaps there was another entrance to the school of which he was not aware. Or perhaps there were just so many students, that he couldn’t quite make her out. Or perhaps she had been wearing a hat which covered up her telltale signature hair.
And it was finally, at last, so many days after he’d arrived, that Legolas found a scheme which was easy to pull off. He observed in his daily roaming, a young woman approaching someone on the street. The young woman spoke in a language completely unfamiliar to Legolas and apparently to the man as well. But yet, there was something there that was familiar to both the man and the young lady. A look of understanding passed over the man’s face and he led the young woman to where she seemed to want to go. Legolas understood immediately that the woman must have been a foreigner.
And wasn’t that exactly what Legolas was?
In no time at all, the plan was formulated. Legolas found another man, for he had learned his lesson about approaching women, and had stepped in the man’s path. Speaking his Native Elvish language had perplexed the man. But when the words Willow Rosenberg had crossed Legolas’ lips, the man seemed relieved. Legolas didn’t know just how lucky he’d been to come across a man willing to help a stranger out. But help he had. The man led Legolas to another small contraption, made of metal and other materials. From a shelf below the mechanism, he pulled a thick looking book. Legolas had looked on with interest as the man rifled through the book.
The Elf was amazed to see so many words and what looked like numbers in even lines all through the pages. He couldn’t fathom how long it must have taken someone to write this so very useful book. And so neatly as well. It was another marvel of Willow’s world. Finally the man’s fingers halted rifling and began running down the page, until he stopped and tapped at a spot. The man muttered something about a children’s line, which Legolas took to mean that there were separate spaces for children’s names. He glanced up at Legolas and recited what Legolas knew must be an address. But Legolas was smart enough to keep the feigned look of stupidity on his face.
The man smiled ruefully and made a universal gesture that Legolas understood. He followed after the man and within three blocks; they’d arrived at Willow’s. Legolas had been greatly relieved. He’d haltingly, so to keep up the ruse, thanked the man. The other person had smiled widely and patted Legolas on the shoulder, then resumed his own business.
Legolas had hurried up the steps and politely knocked on the front door. But after many minutes of no one answering, had to assume that the house was empty. And after seeing how many people were scurrying about, could only assume that Willow’s parents were among that throng. And Willow of course, was at school. So Legolas returned to his copse, memorizing the path between the house and the tomb riddled park. He gathered his belongings and returned to her house.
There he waited. He was worried slightly when she didn’t return after the time when school was done for the day, but consoled himself that perhaps she was occupied with her friends. After the sun fell in its nightly routine, he worried that perhaps she was in trouble with the nocturnal creatures of the town. But at last, as time moved into the early hours of the morning, there was movement at the front of the house. Cautiously, Legolas had moved to his vantage point, to see Willow climbing up the steps of her home’s porch. An amused smile had crossed his face. The poor little witch had looked exhausted. Exhausted enough that she hadn’t even locked the door behind her. Legolas frowned at the thought. But her forgetfulness was his gain. He quickly gathered his belongings and then slipped in the front door after her. He studied the mechanism and easily discerned how it worked. He turned the little knob on the door handle and heard the satisfying click as the lock engaged. And for further safety measure, he engaged the bolt that slid into the doorframe.
He settled his belongings in a corner of the front passage and wondered vaguely where her parents were. For he had never seen them arrive. But perhaps it was normal for parents of this world to leave there younglings to fend for themselves at a young and tender age. Legolas knew that some animals did that. It didn’t sit well with him. After a quick look around the lower floor of the house, Legolas realized that the sleeping quarters were either above or below. And opening the entry way to below, he realized that that choice was unlikely. So he went up to find where his friend was.
And that’s how he ended up having to duck a lit candle being thrown at his head.
Legolas swore viciously as he turned and ducked. His glance fell to the redhead and his head tilted to the side. “Is this perhaps some new ritual of greeting that you had not informed me of?” he asked politely, though his tone was teasing. He was gratified to see the redhead’s eyes grow wide and then the cudgel was thrown to the side and Willow clasped at her chest.
“Legolas!” she exclaimed. “You almost gave me a heart attack!”
“Oh, I apologize,” he chuckled. “It was not my intent to do so. But I could say the same to you. I certainly did not expect to have a candle thrown at me.”
“I’m sorry,” Willow apologized hastily. “M-my head’s a little muddled. It’s been a really long, hard night. We were fighting these really creepy demons and the Hellmouth opened up. But don’t worry we closed it. Though a few of us got hurt. But we’re all okay and why are you here?”
Legolas’ head was about ready to spin. Truly, he had forgotten how quickly she could speak, even when seeming to lack air with which to breathe. Rubbing a weary hand over his face, Legolas sighed. “That my dear Willow, is a long story.”
Stupid Cupid
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