Blessed by the Valar v2

Disclaimer/Author's Notes: I own nothing but the Original Characters and their adventures. Everything else belongs to JRR Tolkien, the Tolkien Estate, New Line Cinema/Peter Jackson, et. al. This was done purely for entertainment and as an exercise in creativity.
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On the journey to Rivendell, Alex and Legolas put the unpleasant episode with Thranduil behind them. In the end, it appeared the king had accepted that the choice was not his. He had at least been civil to Alex, for which his son thanked the Valar.

The twins had spent most of their time in Lorien with their grandmother. She had much to tell them before she departed for Valinor. Of course, they still found time to indulge their baser desires. They spent a great deal of time visiting old friends, and seeking elleth whom they had not yet had the pleasure of knowing. Alex had been surprised to learn Rumil was their partner in crime. He had always seemed so reserved. When she expressed that opinion, the twins and Legolas had shared a look that spoke volumes.

“Well, at least Orophin and Haldir demonstrated their superior moral fiber,” she proclaimed, much to the amusement of her husband and their friends.

“Haldir? Surely, lady, you jest.” Elladan said, when he recovered from his laughing fit. “That Elf has bedded every She-Elf in Lorien, with the possible exception of Galadriel.”

“Only because he didn’t know her before Celeborn,” Elrohir chimed in.

“And do not hold up your great friend Orophin as a paragon of virtue, either, my love,” added Legolas with a twinkle in his eye. “He’s worse that Haldir.”

Alex, who had always considered herself a pretty good judge of character, was surprised. “But they both seem so … so dignified. And I never saw even a hint of impropriety. Unlike some Elves I could name.” She took in all three of her companions with a stern gaze.

“I am pleased to hear that, wife,” Legolas replied. “I should hate to be forced to challenge either---or both---of them for attempting to despoil your honor.”

“Oh, of course they wouldn’t have tried to seduce me,” she said, rolling her eyes. “But they just never gave the impression of being quite so … carnal.”

“Why would you think yourself immune from their advances?” Elladan asked as he caught some grapes in his mouth that his brother was tossing at him.

“Aside from the fact you are bound to Legolas, of course,” added Elrohir.

“Yes, let us not forget that qualification,” Legolas said dryly.

“Well, because …” she trailed off.

The three Elves watched her expectantly.

“I’m not … I’m mortal. I don’t have the grace and beauty of a she-Elf. There’s no comparison. I’m like a lump of clay next to a jewel.”

Elladan was so surprised, one of the grapes Elrohir tossed hit his nose and bounced away. Both brothers looked at her in confusion.

“Why do you say such things? You are quite a beautiful woman,” Elrohir said when he finally recovered.

Legolas was watching his wife with a strange expression. He was taken aback by her words. He, too, wished to hear her rationale.

“Oh, good grief. It’s totally obvious. I’m not that pretty---I’m ok, but nothing to write home about. I don’t have that elegance and otherworldly quality that is so prevalent in your people. I’m quite plain and overshadowed easily by your kin. I think the only reason Legolas married me is because I was around him so much he just got used to me.”

“That is not true. I married you because I love you,” her husband said quietly.

“And why would you compare yourself to the Eldar?” Elrohir picked up an apple and debated throwing that at Elladan as well, but at his brother’s look, decided to eat it himself.

“What am I surrounded by?” she shot back.

“True, but you are mortal. It is like you said, there is no true comparison.” Elladan leaned back against a small boulder. “Mortals cannot be held to the same standards as Elves, just as Elves cannot be held to the same standards as Mortals. They are two different races.”

She had to admit he had a point.

“One is no better than the other. Just different,” added Elrohir between bites of the apple.

“Standards of beauty are different for different peoples,” said Legolas with a smile. “I doubt you would be able to choose ‘the prettiest Dwarf’.”

“Even better, the ‘prettiest Ent’,” laughed Elladan.

“True,” agreed Legolas with a chuckle. “They are all different and have different standards for beauty. Elves and Men have many of the same standards, but there are still some that cannot be compared simply because Men and Elves are different.”

“You make the same mistake so many Men do,” Elrohir said, suddenly serious. “You see superficial things and judge them as beautiful or not. Elves do not see in the same way. We see the physical, yes, but we also see the spirit. If we look just at physical characteristics, I am ashamed to say, most Men look alike to us.”

Alex looked at her husband. He nodded. “So, when you say you think I’m ‘beautiful’, what do you mean?”

Legolas pulled her into his arms. “I mean you are beautiful. You are pleasing to the eye, but what makes you Alexandra is what I find the most attractive.” With that, he kissed her soundly.

The journey to Rivendell took many days, but Alex had to admit the scenery was magnificent. They passed ruins of ancient cities, saw breathtaking vistas, and her companions told her many stories of the places they passed. She was totally unprepared, however, for the beauty of Imaldris.

While Caras Galadhon had an otherworldly quality that was somewhat alien in that it was completely Elven in culture, Rivendell seemed more familiar in design to Alex. Legolas could see it held special appeal to his wife and vowed their home in Ithilien would be fashioned in the style of Rivendell. Fortunately, Saelbeth would know how to achieve such a look, as he was himself a Rivendell Elf.

Lord Elrond welcomed them and was pleased with Alex’s obvious delight with his realm. He also agreed the smiths could likely fashion her any type of blade she desired. Once they had settled in their rooms, Alex and Legolas went to visit Balewith and Morhir, the two finest smiths among the Eldar.

They found them at the forge and watched silently as they worked the metal. When satisfied with their results, they turned the detail work over to assistants and greeted the prince and his lady with respectful bows.

Alex had noticed the Elves of Rivendell seemed to be mainly dark haired while those of Lorien were mainly blonde. There were exceptions, of course---Saelbeth, Legolas had informed her, was a Rivendell Elf and he was almost as blonde as her husband. But on the whole, the Elves she met in Imaldris had dark brown or black hair. Nonetheless, all were breathtakingly handsome.

Alex explained the type of blade she was accustomed to using. Her description intrigued the smiths and they sketched out the design based on her words. They agreed they had never attempted such a weapon, but the challenge was welcome. In the meantime, Balewith suggested, the Lady may wish to try an Elven sword. Morhir brought over a deceptively delicate-looking weapon, with beautiful engraving. It was much lighter than the sword she currently used, but also much stronger. It was love at first swing. The smiths were pleased with her delight, and asked that she accept it as a bonding gift.

Alex spent most of the days in Rivendell trying to learn to read some of the books in Elrond’s vast library. The language was one thing to speak, quite another to read. Erestor, Elrond’s chief councilor, was relieved Legolas had taught her the basics of Sindarin, so those books were not quite as difficult for her to translate. The Quenya manuscripts, however, were quite a challenge and he and Golradir displayed great patience at her butchery of the ancient Elvish language.

Legolas found that a large number of Rivendell Elves wished to remain in Middle Earth for a while and were eager to help rebuild Ithilien. Once Lord Elrond departed Imaldris, it would decline, whether there were Elves there or not, even though Elladan and Elrohir would likely maintain it for a while. Like Galadriel, it was Elrond’s power that kept the realm safe and prosperous. When they returned to Valinor, their lands would fall prey to the ravages of time.

Elrond also spoke words of comfort to Legolas regarding Thranduil.

“I know what is like to be a father watching a child bind with a mortal,” he said, handing Legolas a glass of wine. “Your father loves you very much and is only trying to protect you from pain.”

“I know. But I would rather he simply accept my wife. I knew, when I chose to bind with her, that we would eventually part in death. But I would not trade anything for the short time we will have together, unless it were possible to make that time last forever.”

The prince’s words echoed those Arwen had spoken to her father when he had tried to dissuade her from giving up her immortality for a mortal life with Aragorn. He well understood how Thranduil must feel, seeing his son bound to a mortal. But at least Legolas would continue to live as an Elf. Arwen would eventually die, as all mortals do, although compared to Alexandra, Arwen’s life would be quite long.

“Perhaps your child will soften the blow,” Elrond suggested.

Legolas stared into his wine, swirling the deep red liquid and watching as the light reflected in its depths.

“There will be no child. She was … injured back in her land and cannot bear children.” Alex had told him that the process that had changed her long ago, had also damaged her womb, and so it could not carry a child.

“Forgive me, Legolas. I did not mean to cause you pain.”

The prince smiled. “No, my lord, you have not brought any pain. Your words have given me great comfort. Perhaps, some day, my father will come to love Alex.”

“I am certain he already loves her, young prince, because you love her and she loves you. The happiness she has brought you goes a long way in softening his heart.”

Morhir presented Alex with her Toroth blade only a short few days after she had first described it to them. It was grasped in the center with double-edged curved blades on either end so it could be spun and cut from either direction. It had the curves and small notches Elves seemed to like in their weapons, and the smiths had added Elvish engraving to decorate the blades.

She was delighted with the result and Balewith asked if she would demonstrate how the weapon functioned. Accompanied by the smiths, their assistants and a bemused Legolas and Elrond, she went to one of the practice fields.

“Is Glorfindel not in Imaldris?” Legolas asked their host. The Seneschal of Rivendell would normally have held control over the practice fields, as he was the protector of the realm.

“He and some of the guardians have gone ‘hunting’. For what, I do not know, neither do I ask. I fear Lord Glorfindel misses battle.”

Legolas chuckled. Glorfindel was a legendary Elf Lord, who had been killed after slaying a Balrog to save his people in the First Age. After a time in Mandos’ Halls, the Valar sent him back to Middle Earth where he became the guardian of Elrond’s lands. Legolas and the twins had been in awe of him as Elfings and it had not diminished now that they were adults. Even Haldir had been impressed upon meeting the Seneschal.

They turned their attention to where Alex, with the help of some of the smiths’ assistants had set up practice mannequins. Legolas had to admit her skill with the sword had improved dramatically during the past couple of years. When she’d first come to Middle Earth, she’d been somewhat clumsy with the weapon, but could do some damage under the right circumstances. Now, she was quite good with the sword. She did not have the grace of the Eldar with the weapon, or the skill of mortals who had been using such weapons all their lives, but she was good to have around in battle. Her strength and quickness countered whatever she might lack in technique.

Even her husband was surprised by her performance with the Toroth blade. She was obviously accustomed to using one and her movements were so quick it took the eyes of Elves to see them all, as mortals would have missed many subtleties. The targets were all cut down in mere moments.

Elladan and Elrohir looked at each other. “Oh, we must have one of those!” Elrohir immediately went to try out Alex’s Toroth while Elladan spoke with Balewith about making one for him.

“I must admit, I am quite impressed,” Legolas said as Alex came over and kissed him on the cheek.

“Indeed, you wield your blade with much skill,” echoed Elrond. “Is it the weapon of choice among your people?”

“Among some of them yes. I have also asked them about making what was called a Blood Demon Dagger among my people.” At the Elves’ dubious looks, she laughed. “Oh, it’s from a culture that believes in such things. It was supposed to be used to sacrifice victims to a Blood Demon in their mythology. I like it because it’s quite effective. No one who is stabbed with one escapes damage.”

“May I ask, my lady, why you feel the need to possess such a deadly weapon?” Elrond was curious.

She was quiet for a moment. Finally, she answered, “This place, Middle Earth, is much more dangerous, on a personal level, than my home. I could protect myself with ease there. Here, I must make up for my lack of skills. I need what my people would call superior firepower.”

Within another few days, she had her Dagger. The weapon had three blades, one long center point which had a tip that flared out, then narrowed so that it would catch on any flesh it entered, tearing a larger path of destruction going out than going in. The part of the blade that the smiths found challenging was also the most disturbing part of the weapon to the Elves. Two additional blades covered the sides of the center blade so that when they were upright, it looked like one single blade with two sets of burrs flaring out on either side. However, a catch on the hilt of the knife released the side blades so they shot out on either side of the center blade like a sharpened, burred flange.

Even Legolas was a bit taken aback when his wife demonstrated the function to him, Balewith and Morhir. She thrust the dagger into a leather covered target, triggered the side blades, twisted the hilt and ripped the knife back out. What had started out as a small entry wound was a gaping hole the size of an extended hand in width. Seeing her husband’s slight frown, Alex asked if there was a problem.

“No. It is only … the weapon reminds me of the type of things Saruman’s armies used. It is much more sophisticated, but is still quite unpleasant.”

Alex gave him an enigmatic smile. “You forget, my husband, I can be quite unpleasant myself.”
*
When they departed, both smiths accompanied them along with a sizeable complement of other Imaldris Elves. The twins and Glorfindel would accompany the rest of those wishing to travel to Ithilien after the Elf Lord returned with the cohort he had been ‘hunting’ with. Legolas couldn’t help but imagine the ancient Elven warrior would appreciate Alex’s weapons. Since the army would be traveling to Ithilien later, most of the she-Elves remained in Imaldris so they could make the trip under the protection of an armed force as they would be traveling slower in order to be able to bring books, furnishings, supplies and other things the Rivendell Elves wished to keep during the remainder of their years in Middle Earth.

The return trip to Ithilien would take them through parts of Rohan. Legolas bore news for Eomer, King of Rohan and, rather than delay the entire train with a side trip to Edoras, the seat of the Kings of Rohan, he and Figwit, who brought messages from Elrond to the Rohirrim, parted with the company at the border.

“We will catch up with you before you reach Minas Tirith, my love,” Legolas said as he and Alex said their farewells. “Do not worry, you are well protected.”

She almost gave a sharp retort, but then saw the teasing gleam in his eye.

“Perhaps it is the others who should worry,” she replied. “They don’t know how foul my temper is upon awakening. Without you to soothe me, I may be quite difficult to live with for several days.”

He laughed. “I have warned Balewith and Morhir to keep all away from you until you deign to speak.” The smiths had been quite taken with the designs for blades his wife had specified and were looking forward to making more when they arrived in Ithilien. Besides, they had been the only ones besides Legolas who had witnessed her Dagger demonstration, and had no desire to see any of their brethren gutted for disturbing the lady before she was ready to be civil.

Kissing and holding each other for a long moment, Alex and Legolas parted. She watched him and Figwit until they disappeared into the rolling hills, then remounted Hector and rode back to where the remainder of the Elves waited patiently. She was suddenly at a loss, very aware that she was alone with over 100 Elven warriors. And they were waiting for her. To do what, she wasn’t sure.

She smiled and said, in general, “Well, I suppose we should go on.” She turned back to the southeast and began following the direction Legolas had told her would take them into Gondor.

As they rode, the Elves sang. Their songs were not as sad as the ones she remembered from Caras Galadhon or of the unknown Elves she and Legolas had heard in Gondor. But they were beautiful, nonetheless, and her heart was touched. Still, she maintained control simply by force of will.

Balewith and Morhir worked their way up to her side during the ride and she was grateful for their company. She had been lost in her own thoughts, missing her husband and, she admitted, feeling quite intimidated by being at the head of a large company of Elves. She was unaware Legolas had taken the smiths aside and requested they stand by his wife, should she require assistance.

“You know you need not ask it of us, Legolas. We will of course assist your wife in any way necessary,” Balewith had replied to Legolas’ request.

“I know you will, my friends. It will be the first time we have been apart during a journey since our binding, and I do not wish her to feel so alone. There are no Elves in her land and you know how mortals sometimes feel about our kind.”

“Of course, my lord. We shall support your lady’s leadership. I trust you have spoken with Golradir as well?”

Legolas smiled. “Indeed. Alexandra was a leader of soldiers in her land, and so she is accustomed to that position. However, she may be reticent with our kind, as she knows few of us and little of our ways. Also, she will not know the roads, the ways of some of the peoples you may encounter. I would ask the two of you, along with Golradir, advise her. Once she is confident of the support of the warriors, she will be an excellent leader.”

“Let your mind be at rest,” Morhir replied. “We shall do all we can to make certain your lady knows she is supported.”

Now, she was grateful for their familiar presence. She glanced over at Morhir and asked, in a low voice, “Do you know the way to Ithilien? I’ve only been to Minas Tirith.”

The handsome, dark-haired elf smiled. “Have no fear, my lady. We shall guide your steps, with your leave. We know you are not familiar with these lands.”

She gave him a grateful smile and turned to see Balewith give a reassuring glance. She breathed easier. At least she didn’t have to worry about directions.

Golradir was another of the Rivendell Elves who had fought with Elrond and Gil-Galad during the Last Alliance, and was one of the councilors of Rivendell. He was well-respected by the other Elves and Legolas had asked for his aid in helping his wife grow in her position as the Lady of the Elves of Ithilien. He had always liked the young Prince and agreed readily.

He watched the lady in question as she chatted with the smiths. She seemed completely devoted to her husband and had been fairly quiet. Apparently, she had been a warrior in her land and he had heard Morhir and Balewith had fashioned strange and deadly weapons from designs she had requested. He’d also heard she was quite good with those weapons, although he himself had not seen any evidence. She seemed to be a sweet, but not a terribly strong woman. Time would tell, however, and he would do his best to support her leadership until the Prince rejoined them in Gondor.

They had expected to stop for the night so the Lady would be able to rest, but, to the pleasant surprise of the Elves, she wished to continue, if they had no objection. Perhaps it was a sign from the Valar because, had they stopped, they would not have been in the position to see a glow against the sky just to the south of their route, nor smelled the smoke that was a bit more pungent than would be expected of camp or cooking fires.

Alex stopped atop a ridge and looked toward the glow. Golradir, Balewith and Morhir joined her and the four watched for a moment.

“I smell flesh, and it isn’t from a boar or anything else I would think the people of Rohan would be eating,” she surprised them by saying. “What’s over there?”

“I believe there is a small village. We are on the borderlands where the Dunlendings and Rohirrim have always clashed.” Balewith looked to Golradir who nodded confirmation.

The Elves went on to explain the enmity the wild men of Dunland had for Rohan and how they had supported Sauron against the Rohirrim during the War of the Ring.

She considered the information. “Would that be a village of Rohan?” She nodded toward the glow.

“Yes. It is definitely within the borders.” Morhir could also smell the slightly sweetish tinge on the smoke. He did not want to think about what it could be.

She looked back to where the other Elves waited patiently. She didn’t want to delay them, but in her world, she couldn’t just let an atrocity go on if she could render aid.

The three Elves at her side could see her trying to decide what to do. She wanted to ride to the assistance of the village of Rohan, yet she was unsure of whether the Elven warriors would agree with the decision. They exchanged a look wordlessly, then Golradir spoke.

“My lady, if you wish to satisfy your mind about the safety of the people of the village, we can be there by morning.” She cast another glance at the warriors who regarded her with neutral expressions.

“I can’t ask you to deviate from the course. If someone would come with me, just to make sure I know the way, the rest could go on to Ithilien.”

“You do not need to ask us to come with you, my lady,” Morhir said. “You are our Lady, wife of the Prince, who is the Lord of the Elves of Ithilien. We are now a part of that company. Therefore, we obey your orders.”

She regarded them for a moment. Then, it was if she became another person. She turned to Golradir.

“We will ride to the village. If it is something we can help with, we will render what aid possible. I would prefer the majority of the warriors remain a bit to the rear until we know what is going on. Is there someone who can provide reconnaissance?” Golradir called forward two Elven warriors and instructed them to ride ahead and see if they could determine what had occurred. Alex and a small contingent followed and the remainder of the force fell back so they would have time and ability to maneuver as necessary.

They rode in silence and as the first rays of dawn began to lighten the eastern sky, the two Elves who had ridden ahead came to report back.

“It appears there has been a raid on the village. Many houses are burned and there are Men of Dunland wandering the streets. Some are sleeping, most appear to be drunk. We saw no Men of Rohan,” the first Elf told Alex.

“What about the women and children?” Alex dreaded the answer.

“We saw none, but could hear what sounded like weeping from some of the buildings which remained intact,” the other Elf replied.

“I believe the Men of the Village and some of the women were in the flames. Likely, the Dunlendings are disposing of the bodies,” said the first.

Alex nodded. To Balewith, Morhir and Golradir, she said, “You three accompany me, the rest of you fall back, but take positions around the village so none of these Dunlendings can escape.” The Elves nodded in understanding. She rode a few paces, then turned to face them. “Also, if there should be any fighting, try to injure, not kill the Men of Dunland.” She turned her horse and raced toward the village.

The first of the scouts turned to Morhir. “Why would she wish to spare the Dunlendings lives?”

Watching the Lady ride away, he replied, “She does not. However, she knows the delicate balance the Eldar must walk to keep the trust of mortals, and so she does not want the blood of Men to be on the hands of Elves.” He gave a small smile of appreciation and raced to catch up with Alex’s receding figure.

They arrived at the village just as the sun was sending its golden rays over the surrounding mountains. The Dunlendings stared at the three Elves and the Woman who rode into the village in such a nonchalant manner. Finally, one of them roused himself enough to step in front of her horse.

“What business do the Eldar have here?” His tone was smug. He was one who did not put much stock in the supposed prowess of the Firstborn.

“What business do the Men of Dunland have in Rohan?” Alex countered. Her Elven companions watched the exchange with typical Elvish arrogance. Yet inside, they were satisfied with the air of command the Lady had assumed.

“Our business is none of yours, Elvish wench,” the man spat.

She smiled pleasantly. “Actually, it is. The King of Rohan is a dear friend of my husband. Therefore, anything that disturbs his lands becomes my concern.”

The man looked at her for a moment, then burst into laughter. His comrades, who had been roused by the exchange joined in.

Alex waited until they had quieted, the friendly expression unchanged.

“Where is your leader? I will speak with him.”

The man eyed her. “He’s occupied. But I’m sure he’d be happy to see you.” He gestured toward the village center.

Alex surprised her companions by sliding off of Hector’s back and handing his reins to Balewith. The Elves did not let their consternation show, but casually tightened their grips on their swords. They could see what the men could not: their brethren had surrounded the village and were hidden in trees and behind hillocks, sighting the men of the village with their deadly accurate arrows.

The woman walked unconcernedly in the direction indicated. The Dunlendings were taken aback, but followed out of curiosity more than anything else. This bitch obviously didn’t know her place. But their leader would soon instruct her, of that they were sure. Perhaps he would give her to the men to drive home the lesson.

Both Alex and her Elven companions could hear soft crying coming from some of the houses that were still intact and saw evidence of a massacre. Blood splatters on walls, damaged dwellings, the ominous fires that still burned, sending the stench of roasting human flesh into the morning air.

When she reached the village square, she was greeted by the sight of an unkempt, rather disgusting man thrusting himself into a woman as she was bent over the side of the village well. Her arms were stretched out to the other side and held by two other men who were laughing and shouting encouragement to their leader. Her feet did not reach the ground and if she struggled much, she would fall into the well. Alex had no doubt the men holding her arms would let go should that happen.

“That’s enough,” she called with a tone of command. The Dunlending leader was so taken aback he actually ceased his rape and turned to see who had spoken to him in such a manner. When he saw it was a woman, he, like his comrades, burst into laughter.

“Wait your turn, wench. There’s plenty to go around.” He noted the Elves seated on horseback in the background. “Tired of Elven cock?”

Alex chuckled at his attempt at wit. “Not at all. However,” she spoke in a low, seductive voice as she walked up to him, “I think I would like yours.” He saw something in her eyes, a shadow that blackened them for a split second before his breath was sucked out of his body by intense pain.

Before anyone could react, she had grabbed the Dunlending leader’s manhood by the root, including the testicles, and, digging in her sharp, strong nails, gave a vicious twist, ripping the entire package from his body. His men were frozen in horror for a moment, but before they could move, they found themselves surrounded by Elves with cold metal tipped arrows aimed at them, and even colder eyes just watching for any excuse to unleash a rain of death upon the men of Dunland.

Their leader struggled to draw breath. Once he did, he screamed loudly, a shriek of such profound agony it hurt the sensitive ears of the Elves, although they did not react outwardly. Alex, meanwhile, smiled cruelly and held his mutilated manhood before his horrified eyes.

“Since you’re so proud of your pathetic manhood, I want you to have it back.” She grasped his hair with one hand and yanked his head back with a snap. In one smooth motion, she shoved the mangled organs into his screaming mouth and deep into his throat. He began to choke as his breath was cut off and when he tried to reach up and clear his airway, she whipped out her new Elven sword and with one swing, sliced both hands cleanly from his body. He fell to his knees, blood pouring from his mutilated groin and the stumps where his hands had once been.

Golradir swiftly slipped from his horse and grasped the leg of the woman who had been held over the well as she was violated. The two men who had been holding her had let go in shock when their leader had been cut down, and she’d begun to tumble into the well, but the Elf’s well-timed grab saved her. Golradir took the girl---they saw now, she was no more than a child--- to safety.

Alex stood over the still jerking body of the Dunlending leader and wondered if he would die from lack of oxygen or blood loss. She surveyed the men of Dunland, then spoke.

“Your leader is dead, and so your lives are now mine. Now,” she smiled, “I just have to decide what to do with you.”

Balewith and Morhir took some of the warriors and began searching the village structures, freeing the women and girls who had been kept there. It did not escape their notice that no male children, not even infants, were present.

The Elves stripped the men of weapons and tied their hands and feet. From the surviving women, they heard the story of the village’s fate. The Dunlendings had attacked before dawn the day before. They had killed all of the men, including the children and infants. Any women who fought back were also killed, the rest raped.

Those among the Elves who were also skilled as healers did what they could for the survivors. Some of them, they told Alex, would likely heal physically, but their souls would probably never heal. Alex spoke with some of the stronger women of the village, those who had been able to rise above what had happened to them.

“How far are you from Edoras?”

“It is several days journey, milady,” one of the women replied.

“You can’t stay here. It’s not safe. Can you handle weapons?”

The women looked at her like she had suggested they turn themselves into toads or something.

“We … we have never had to learn weaponry, milady. Our men were soldiers only when called by the Marshal of the Riddermark. We work the land.”

Sighing, she picked up one of the Dunlending swords and thrust it into the hand of one of the women.

“It’s simple. If they move, talk back, or otherwise give you any shit, you take this very sharp implement and cut something off of them, like an ear or a toe or a ball.” Turning, she stalked outside where the men were sitting in the sun under the seemingly disinterested watch of the Elves.

“Can we spare four warriors to take these,” she jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the miserable Dunlendings, “creatures to Edoras? These women need to go where they can be protected, and they can’t take them alone. Also, the king should know what’s happening on his borders. I thought the women here knew how to fight,” she muttered as she walked away.

Activity seemed to help the women of the village. They gathered supplies for the journey and mounted what horses had been spared as well as the ones which had been ridden by the Dunlendings. The men’s feet were tied together so they had to walk in unison or they would stumble and fall. Their hands were tied behind their backs and also strung together. If one man fell, all would go down with him.

Four Elven warriors accompanied the women of Rohan and the Dunlendings to Edoras while Alex and the rest of the Elves continued their trek to Itihilien. The Elves had been instructed to allow the women to mete out any punishment. They were there only to protect the women on the journey and see them safely to the seat of the Rohan kings. They understood the lady’s instructions: she wanted the victims to have the power over their tormenters; and, as when they first went to the village, she did not want the blood of men to be on Elven hands if possible.

The journey to Edoras was fairly uneventful. The Dunlendings tempted the women only a few times and learned some painful lessons in the process. The Elves stayed in the background, allowing the women to deal with their attackers. Things got ugly a few times, but the warriors allowed the women to handle the situation. The Lady had made it clear; she didn’t care about the safety of the Men. After their actions in the village, neither did the Elves.

When the odd train arrived, the Rohan guards were quite surprised. They held them at the gates as one of their number ran to the Golden Hall to inform the king. Eomer’s captain, Gamling, ordered the group be allowed to approach the Hall under additional guards. The women seemed reluctant to surrender their weapons, but Gamling patiently explained that it was unsafe to allow so many armed persons in the presence of the king.

Legolas and Figwit joined Eomer at the front of the Golden Hall and watched as the group of around 30 women and children and an equal number of wild men, accompanied by four Elven warriors, wound its way up to the Hall under the watchful eye of Gamling and the Rohirrim guard.

The women looked awestruck to be in the city of the king. Eomer looked to one of the Elves as he assisted the nominal leader of the Rohan women up the steps to stand before the King. The Elf touched his chest and bowed in respect and indicated the woman as the one to speak with.

“What brings you to Edoras, madam?” Eomer asked gently.

“We are from the border village of Preyson, your majesty. These … men attacked us and killed our husbands, our sons, our brothers, and our fathers. They killed the women who were too old to breed, and raped the rest. We are all that are left alive. These Elves, accompanied by their Lady, freed us and gave us safe passage to bring you this gift of these Dunlendings, compliments of the Lady of the Elves of Ithilien.”

Eomer hid his surprise and anger, and called for guards to take the prisoners and secure them, and for servants to take the women and children someplace safe where they could rest, bathe, eat and be treated for any injuries. The Elves accompanied the king, the prince and Figwit back into the Golden Hall where they related the story in its entirety, including Alex’s bloody, but effective, example of the Dunland leader.

The king ordered riders be sent to the borders to warn the inhabitants to beware of potential raids by the Dunlendings. Things had died down after the War, but if the wild men of Dunland were going back to their old habits, it would pay to have the people of Rohan prepared.

Legolas detected approval from the Elves as they told the story of securing the village, and could not help but smile. Figwit was somewhat horrified at the tale, but he could not argue with the effectiveness of Alex’s methods.

Eomer looked at Legolas. “I must meet this wife of yours, my friend. She sounds quite … formidable.”

“You have no idea,” the Elven prince replied.

*
The Elves departed the next day and met up with the main group a day outside of Minis Tirith. Alex came running out to meet them and Legolas swept her up in front of him onto Arod’s back. They kissed deeply, forgetting the Elves around them. Their companions rode ahead, giving them some privacy.

When they paused for breath Legolas laughed at her excitement.

“Did you miss me, my wife?”

“Not at all, my lord.” Her laughing eyes belied her words.

They arrived at the campsite and he slid from Arod’s back, lifting his wife down and pulling her into a solid embrace. They kissed again and their need for one another demanded an answer. But, they were no longer traveling with just their close friends, and so they could not sate their cravings as easily as they had on the trip from Gondor. Instead, they settled for a private place separated from the rest of the troupe by sheltering rocks, where they could hold each other and talk.

“Your reputation spreads, my love. Now you are a heroine to the Rohirrim.”

“Oh. I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Do what? Kill the Dunlending leader? Or gain notoriety?”

“The latter. I definitely meant to kill him.”

The next morning, he rode next to Golradir as Alex had taken to riding through the ranks of the warriors, getting to know them. She had always known the name of every person under her command and saw no reason to stop just because she was no longer in her world. For their part, the Elves found her … interesting. Some were shocked by her brutality; while others were relieved she had shown herself to be unafraid of meting out harsh punishment to her own kind when necessary. All agreed, however, she had sought to protect them as well as the victims---she did all she could to avoid placing the Elves in a position where mortals could point to them as the aggressors. She took that responsibility upon herself.

Legolas asked Golradir a question the Elves who had accompanied the prisoners to Edoras had been unable to answer.

“What did you do with the Dunlending leader’s body … parts?”

The Rivendell Elf’s lips twitched in a small smile. “Lady Alexandra, herself, stuck his body, complete with its bloody mouthful, on top of a spike with his hands stuffed into the spot where his manhood once sprouted, facing the Dunland border.”

They rode in silence for a moment.

“How was her punishment received?”

“Of the Dunlending? He was raping a child when we came upon him. He had ordered the slaughter of newborn infants. No one wept for him.”

“Good,” Legolas said with a grim smile.

They stayed overnight in Minas Tirith, then proceeded southeast to Ithilien. Alex was anxious, but excited at the prospect of settling down in their own home. She and Legolas discussed what kind of house they wanted and he called some of the other Rivendell Elves, who were more architecturally inclined to join them as they rode. It was important to the couple that their home blend in with the natural formations in the area, much like Rivendell itself.

The forests and plains of Ithilien soon came into view and Alex had to admit it was beautiful countryside. Legolas explained that Gondor extended all the way to the sea far to the south. He noticed she stiffened slightly at the mention of the sea, and so he reached over and took her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. It pained him that she was so disturbed by it, but he knew she had nothing to worry about. He would never leave her willingly.

During the years he had been away, construction had proceeded. Gimli’s Dwarf kin had worked with the Elves to speed up the building process. Dwarves were prodigious builders, and Legolas arrived to a small city already growing out of the mountains and woodland. True to the spirit of the Eldar, the dwellings were in harmony with the environment, and the Dwarf engineers had used many of the foundations of older buildings, for the newer ones so that the natural resources of the area would not be disturbed too much.

The days passed quickly as they settled into the routine of married life in their own home. True to his promise, Legolas had a beautiful, small manor built in the style of Rivendell, and Alex was overjoyed with her new home. They were joined by a large contingent of Lorien Elves who settled in the forest, building their talans and coaxing the trees into song.

Alex asked her husband if they could have a private garden, secluded from prying eyes. Of course, he readily agreed and one was constructed, complete with a small pool fed by a spring that tumbled in a short fall over rock against the wall of the mountain that backed their home.

Another of her requests was a small chapel. He did not completely understand her request, but he readily acquiesced. She described what she wanted and it was done. It sat in a corner of their private garden, and was always cool and pleasant. It had floor to ceiling windows that could be opened in the spring and summer to allow the cooling breezes to blow through, and closed in the fall and winter when those same winds had bite.

When they had begun their journey to the east shortly after her arrival in Middle Earth, Legolas had noticed she would usually go off at least once during the day for a moment of privacy. At first he thought it was in order to attend to bodily needs. Then, he happened across her one day and she seemed to be deep in meditation, kneeling with her head bowed and eyes closed. He left her alone, and later, when they had gotten to know each other better, asked her about her meditation. He asked if she spoke to the Valar.

She had smiled and explained how her people practiced religion. He’d found it fascinating, the parallels with the stories of the Valar and Iluvetar. They even had a Sauron and Morgoth of their own. He supposed it didn’t matter what her people called Eru---He was the same thing: The One. It seemed to make his wife happy, so he indulged her, and even found himself joining her in her garden or chapel where he would send his own prayers to the Valar as she prayed in her own way.

Legolas and Alexandra were happy with their life together. Even though there would be no Elfings, neither minded so much. When in Rohan, Legolas had told Eomer and his queen, Lothiriel, of Alex’s fondness for dogs---the Lords of Rohan were inordinately fond of the beasts themselves---and soon after they had settled in Ithilien, a pair of small spaniels had arrived, a gift to the Lady of the Elves of Ithilien in thanks for her kindness to the survivors of Preyson. Alex had been delighted, and spent hours debating names. Remembering it had taken several days to name Hector, Legolas helpfully suggested several Elvish names. She settled, however, on Dexter and Dita. Legolas was at a total loss trying to understand the names, but, since they were his wife’s dogs, he did not object. Much.

With the arrival of the Eldar of Lothlorien came Haldir, Orophin and Rumil. Alex was delighted to see her old friends. Although she had made a few among the Rivendell Elves, and had even gotten to know Saelbeth a bit better, she still felt a particular closeness to Orophin.

Legolas was surprised she did not make many friends from among the she-Elves. He had assumed females were drawn together, but Alex almost seemed to avoid feminine company. She seemed content to go about her business, Dexter and Dita romping at her side---they refused to be separated from her. He, Orophin and Haldir sat on a balcony at Alex and Legolas’ home one evening, sipping wine, and talking about the current state of Middle Earth, their respective lives, and general things, when the topic of Alex and her friends came up. She was, at the time, down at the forge, trying to describe another desired blade to Balewith and Morhir. Her husband shook his head.

“She is more at home in an armory than baking Lembas.”

“Oh, has she learned the secret of Lembas?” Orophin was surprised. He’d always thought Alex a bit domestically challenged.

Legolas rolled his eyes and sighed. “No, my friend. She is dismal in the kitchen.”

“So,” said Haldir, “you, an Elven Prince, son of a Great King of the Elves, married a woman who cannot cook, cannot braid her hair, cannot use a bow, cannot do needlework---yet you say you have claimed the greatest prize in a wife.” He chuckled. “Tell us, what qualities were you looking for in a spouse?”

Legolas shared his humor. “I admit, my friend, she is not the typical ideal for a mate. But she can fight, is noble, is quite shrewd, has a great tactical mind, can lead troops if necessary, is fearless when it comes to exploring and adventures, and is quite comely. Plus, she has … other talents.” His distant expression and satisfied smile said more than any words.

“And most importantly,” added Orophin, “she loves you with all of her heart and soul.”

“Indeed, that is the most important quality of all,” agreed Haldir. “You are truly blessed by the Valar, Legolas.”

He acknowledged the truth of their words. “Still, I wish she had some female friends. I sometimes think she is lonely. I had thought she and Eowyn might become friends, but they neither seemed to warm to each other. Faramir was as clueless as I.”

“They are two of a kind, too much alike,” observed Orophin. His companions looked at him in askance. “Both are very strong women. Just as there cannot be two queens in a bee hive, there cannot be two such women in close proximity.” Legolas was reminded of Alex’s story of how the creature inside of her had been a ‘queen’, and how she and similar victims had tried to kill each other for that exact reason.

“Yet she seemed to get along with Arwen,” observed Legolas.

“Arwen is a gentle soul, and she has had millennia to learn how to deal with different personalities. Remember, mortals only have a few years.” Haldir’s words brought a sudden pang of sadness to Legolas---he did not like reminders of Alex’s mortality.

Breaking his somber mood, Legolas saluted the brothers with his wine goblet. “I defer to your superior knowledge of the fairer sex.”

Haldir laughed. “Oh, your experience is just as extensive.”

“Yes, well, at least I have not kept more than two females in any one bed.”

“Oh, you make it sound as if it was a harem,” Orophin protested, knowing the circumstances to which his friend referred.

Haldir and Legolas exchanged a look. “It was,” they replied in unison.

The second group of the Elves of Rivendell arrived, accompanied by Elladan. When Legolas inquired about the other twin, the son of Elrond replied, “He and Glorfindel remain in Minas Tirith. Apparently, there has been some problem with the Easterlings. Aragorn has asked that you and Haldir go to the White City; Faramir has already departed for Minas Tirith. It looks as though there may be another war.”

Legolas swore softly. “But if the Easterlings were causing trouble, would we not have known it here? Ithilien is closer to the borders of Mordor and Rhun.”

The dark haired Elf shook his head. “We are far to the south here. These attacks have come from the northeast.”

“Surely, the darkness Celeborn spoke of has not come upon us already.”

“I do not know, Legolas. So far, they seem to be more nuisance attacks than anything else. But Aragorn fears it could be a precursor to more.”


“May I come with you?” Alex watched as Legolas gathered his things for the journey to Minas Tirith.

“I would rather you remain here, where it is safe.” He did not want to leave her; he craved her presence and could only bear to be away from her for just a few days at a time.

“Besides,” he continued, “it will be mainly dull talk of plans for stopping these attacks before---“ He cut himself off at her raised brow. What was he saying? His wife was not some domestic-minded female who thought only of decorating her house and baking bread. She had been a warrior in her land, and, from what she’d told him of her past, a tactician under her Captain. She would likely find the discussions quite interesting.

He smiled. “Are your things packed?”

“Always,” she replied. He nodded approvingly. She kept her weapons and travel supplies ready to grab at a moment’s notice. He was struck by a desire to have been able to see her in her own world, functioning in her natural environment.

He, Alex, and Haldir departed for Minas Tirith that night. Elladan remained in Ithilien to await word and help his kin settle into their new home. Orophin, Rumil and Saelbeth would prepare the Elven warriors for possible action. Balewith and Morhir began assessing the weapons, making sure any that were needed were replaced or repaired.

Stopping only to let the mounts rest, the three arrived in the White City in the early evening. The proceeded directly to the council chamber where Aragorn and Faramir were discussing the fact that Ithilien had not experienced any attacks, but, from what the people of Gondor’s northern borders described, it was a constant battle.

Lords Herik and Kahmron were also in attendance and greeted the Elves and Lady warmly. Not so warm in his greeting, was Lord Karandun, one of the northern border lords. He eyed the Elves with suspicion and Alex with distaste. For their part, Legolas and Haldir ignored his rudeness with typical Elven calm. Alex was curious about his obvious hostility, but tried to be pleasant.

“They have taken livestock, destroyed homes and businesses, and killed only a few who resisted. It’s more like a border raid than a declaration of war,” Legolas commented as Aragorn explained what had been happening.

“Easy enough for you to say, sitting in the south of Ithilien, protected by the rest of Gondor,” snapped Lord Karandun.

Legolas cast a dispassionate gaze on the man, then turned to Aragorn. “Have there been any problems in Southern Gondor? We have not heard of any.”

“No. Surely, the people of the East do not wish battle.” The king shook his head. “They cannot hope to win any war with Gondor. Why would they attack us?”

Speculation continued on the motives as Alex looked over the maps spread out on the table.

“Perhaps they think the forces of the West are so severely depleted after the War, and satisfied with victory, that we’ll be easy targets?” she commented to Lord Herik, who was standing nearby.

He nodded slowly. “Aye, that could be true.”

The others thought over her words. “I don’t know much about these people of the East, my lord,” she said to Aragorn. “Legolas and I were in the part of the land just north of Mordor, and I don’t remember seeing any signs of imminent attack on Gondor. But they weren’t all happy people. Perhaps they are attacking because they feel they have nothing left to lose.”

“She has a point, my lord,” said Lord Kahmron. “There could still be great resentment in the East after their defeat in the last War. The most dangerous enemy is the one who does not fear death.”

“Also, with the Elves leaving Middle Earth, they may feel the Men of the West have no more allies like they did in the War of the Ring,” added Faramir.

“Good riddance,” Karandun muttered under his breath. His words did not escape Legolas and Haldir. Alex was surprised at the bitterness in his tone. The others did not hear him.

Aragorn considered their words. He did not want to rush into anything. And, as Legolas had said, the attacks were more like raids---something the Easterlings excelled at---than preludes to war. Perhaps he should attempt to find out what their quarrel with the West entailed. Yet he would not allow them to cross into his realm and terrorize his people at will.

“Surely you are not going to ignore the evidence,” Lord Karandun said. “Our people are being terrorized. The enemy has not hidden itself. We should go east into Rhun and south, into Harad, and quash them.”

“But they aren’t attacking us from the south,” Alex said reasonably. “The Haradrim have so far been silent.”

“That’s because they are allowing the Easterlings to attract our attention while they prepare for war,” he snapped back.

“I am hesitant to attack a people without knowing the course is certain,” Aragorn said, looking at the map. “I shall return shortly. Legolas, Faramir---if you would come with me?” He left the room, calling for one of the lieutenants of the household guard. Karandun was beside himself.

“Are we to wait while our people are attacked, their homes destroyed, their possessions taken, simply on the whim of an Elf’s whore?”

The silence in the room was deafening. Haldir fixed the man with an icy gaze. His fingers closed over the hilt of his sword, and he spoke in a deceptively calm tone.

“I am sure the King will decide his course of action based on his instincts, experience, the information he has at hand, and the advice of his Lords,” he said smoothly.

Moving closer to Karandun, the March Warden of Lorien said so low that only he and the man could hear, “You are fortunate that the King considers you a valuable asset, else I would rip your foul tongue from your mouth and feed it to my dogs. Not for any insult you may have aimed at my kind, but for the affront to the lady’s dignity and the king’s authority.”

Alex continued her study of the maps, dismissing Karandun as unimportant, but inside she shook with anger and hurt. It surprised her that his words could cause such a reaction. She had been on edge much of the time lately. Something was very wrong in Middle Earth. She knew her husband and the other Elves could feel it, but none had yet put a name to the vague dread beginning to surround them.

Aragorn, Faramir and Legolas returned shortly thereafter and the king informed them he had sent agents to foray into Harad as well as Rhun to gather information before launching a counterattack. He silenced Karandun’s protests by adding that troops would be sent to reinforce the borders along the northeast and that the Elves would patrol the borders of Ithilien to the East and into southern Gondor where it joined with Harad

“We will protect ourselves, but if it is possible to avoid war, I wish to give peace every chance. We have begun to dig ourselves from the mess of the last War, and I am not anxious to be drawn so quickly into a new one.”

Karandun snorted derisively at the decision to allow Elves to guard the borders of a Kingdom of Men, but held his tongue for once. After dismissing them, Legolas and Alex went to his usual quarters, Haldir being across the hall in the room Alex had occupied during her first visit to the White City. One look from her and the March Warden knew he was not to say anything to Legolas about Karandun’s comment. If Legolas’ ire were to be raised, it would not be by him.

Lords Herik and Kahmron retired early as they planned to leave for Southern Gondor before dawn. Karandun had taken his retinue and left immediately. The Elves, Faramir and Alex joined Aragorn and Arwen for supper in the family dining room. Alex had remained quiet except for greeting Arwen and some particularly female discussion about fashion. The king noticed her reticence and, after dinner, pulled her aside.

“Thank you for speaking your mind, Alexandra. We have been attacked so much lately, we are ready to believe the worst about everyone who has ever been our enemy. I do not want to put my people through another war, but neither do I want them to become prey to the wild men of the East or the Haradrim.”
“I should have kept quiet,” she sighed. “What if I’m wrong? Others seem to think so.”

Aragorn smiled. “You are thinking of Lord Karandun. I heard what he said after we left the room. Lords Herik and Kahmron are not at all fond of him and they are quite fond of you, so they were quick to speak up. I know he hates Elves, but I do not know why. But he commands quite a large force that we need if we are going to protect our northern borders. So, I must deal with him out of necessity. I have not told Legolas, for he would kill the man and, as I said, we need him right now. But his insult will not go unpunished.”

“There is no need to punish him for anything he may have said to me. I just don’t want Legolas upset. But what if he’s right and I’m wrong? It was always my duty to my captain to present him with options and sometimes I forget I’m no longer among my people, and I speak when I shouldn’t.”

“No, you are correct. It is the duty of others to present different points of view. But the decision was mine and mine alone. I am the king, therefore I bear the ultimate responsibility.” He smiled at her continued distress. “If it makes you feel any better, I had been pondering the same course even before you spoke. You simply helped me to see there were others who had thought of it as well.”

“Thank you,” she said, still avoiding his gaze, just as Arwen called over to them.

“What are the two of you conspiring about?” she asked with a smile.

“I was reassuring Alexandra that war is a last resort,” Aragorn said with a smile.

“Indeed,” added Faramir, “I am not looking forward to riding into battle any time soon.”

“I may be completely wrong,” Alex sighed. “But my people have been in many wars and often things are not as they seem. We have always had quite duplicitous enemies and more than once, they’ve sought to draw us into a war with someone else in order to hide their true motives.”

That night, as they lay in bed, Alex asked Legolas why Karandun hated his people so much.

“I do not know. I do know that he particularly despises the Mirkwood Elves. I believe his ancestors were among the reasons my father closed his borders to mortals. There has always been enmity between his house and the Eldar.”

She snuggled close to her husband as she relished the feel of his smooth, warm body next to hers. It never ceased to amaze her that he had chosen her. They were so different. He was calm where she was quick-tempered; elegant where she was direct; beautiful where she was dull; immortal where she was--. She cut herself off. It hurt sometimes to go there.