That night, Buffy didn't sleep. It was part Slayer time-to-hunt instincts and part brain-on-overdrive. She still hadn't decided what to say to Glorfindel. She hardly knew him, but she already trusted him more than she could remember having trusted anyone so quickly.
But she still had the Slayer instincts problem.
Finally, Buffy sighed and got up, dressing in the tunic and leggings she'd managed to somehow convince Arwen to let her have. Though the Elf-maiden had been firmly disapproving, her father had apparently said something about it to help Buffy's case before she'd even made it.
Right now, Buffy was grateful, as they were a lot easier to deal with than the evil (though pretty) dresses. She made her way down to the practice yard—not surprisingly empty, at this time of night—and called out the Scythe.
It was time to get to know her Bonded weapon.
Morning found Elrond sending for Glorfindel, looking down on the practice yards from the balcony near the library.
Buffy was going through what looked like a pattern-dance with a weapon unlike any he had before seen, moving with a swiftness and grace that was simply impossible.
Glorfindel arrived and immediately caught sight of what had captured his friend's attention. "Mellon nín," he greeted.
Elrond glanced at him, nodding in reply, "Is that the weapon you spoke of?"
Glorfindel took several moments to marvel at the little one's speed and beauty before answering. "Ma," he confirmed.
Elrond shook his head in wonder, "I have never seen such…" he gestured to the pattern-dance, at a loss for words.
Glorfindel smiled slightly, "Now I see how she could face seven Wargs and emerge unscathed."
Elrond nodded, "As can I, my friend. As can I."
And Buffy stopped. There was no intermediate slowing—one moment she was moving, and the next she was still. She straightened out of her fighting stance, the weapon spinning in her hands before it simply vanished.
Then she looked up at them and shook her head before turning and leaving the training field.
Glorfindel found her in her rooms about an hour later, hair still wet from bathing and clad in a loose tunic and trousers, barefoot and brushing her hair.
"Were you awake all night, tithen pen?"
Buffy nodded, "Couldn't sleep. I figured I might as well do something useful."
Glorfindel raised an elegant eyebrow.
"Slayer thing," she explained. "Nights are when most of what I hunt comes out."
"Ah. Of course," Glorfindel remembered what she had told him. "But if this happens often…"
"Nah," Buffy shook her head, "Just sometimes. I usually get some sleep, but I don't need much."
Glorfindel nodded, understanding. She probably needed no more sleep than an Elf.
He looked up as the child set the hairbrush aside, turning to face him fully with a strange expression on her face.
"… I'd like it if you adopted me," her tone was hesitant and shy, a small smile gracing her face.
For a moment, Glorfindel didn't register what had just been said, then he smiled—an expression of bright joy.
Buffy's answering smile was actually happy and Glorfindel drew the child into a hug. "I would be honored to be your father, Buffy."
"Mellon nín," Glorfindel greeted, eyes sparkling with joy, "I am going to adopt the little one."
Elrond glanced up sharply, but his misgivings seemed insignificant in comparison to his friend's happiness. Glorfindel knew the risks—if he was still willing, it was only because he believed the gains to be worth the eventual pain.
"When do you wish to do this?" There was a great deal of ceremony involved with actually adopting a child, rather than simple fostering. Preparations would take time.
"As soon as is possible without undue haste," Glorfindel admitted.
Elrond nodded understandingly. "I will speak to Erestor about the preparations."
For the first time in a long time, Buffy found herself feeling excited about something—something that didn't involve killing anything.
She set about exploring Imladris cheerfully, in a better mood than she'd been in since arriving in the Elven city. She already knew where the most important things were—dining hall, training grounds, things like that… but there were so many more places.
She scampered through the halls, a silly smile on her face, peeking in the doorless rooms to see what they were and pausing at every balcony to see where she was in relation to the outside. She stopped on one balcony with a beautiful view of the waterfall and simply stood there, leaning against the railing, listening to the water and thinking.
It was actually nice being here… a place where she had no destiny. The Powers sent her through the portal, but it was whatever powers that watched over this realm that had chosen to accept her. And since they hadn't sent her a messenger, she hadn't been called on to do anything.
And, for now, it was nice. Very nice.
But, as with all things… there was no way it could last forever.