Something Evil This Way Comes

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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Alex insisted Meriel examine Legolas next. He submitted with more grace than he felt.

“What happened here?” the She-Elf asked, studying the wound on Legolas’ right shoulder, though she could see it was a bite, likely that of one of the werewolves.

“I know not,” Legolas said with a rueful laugh. “I remember only being attacked from all sides. When I awakened, I was quite sore all over. Then, in the prison, I was in an altercation or two.”

“Well, it appears to be healing well,” she said, although the glance she gave the rest said otherwise. “You should rest, my lord. I will prepare some medicine to help the wound to heal. The other injuries have almost vanished. These gashes on your sides are the next most serious. The medicine should help with them as well. Rest, though, will be your best healer. You should go to your bed and stay there until you are quite well again.”

She caught the suggestive glance shared by the prince and his lady, and added, pointedly. “Go to bed and rest. There is time for sport after you have recovered.” Legolas and Alexandra had the good grace to look chagrined, but everyone knew they would do as they pleased once they were behind the doors of their bedchamber.

Orophin had watched the exchange with amusement. When his gaze fell upon Alex, however, he noticed she was looking rather pale, and her eyes seemed a bit shadowed.

“Alexandra, are you alright?” he asked, moving over to her and catching her just as she fell into a dead faint.

Legolas, who had been refastening his tunic, took his wife from his friend’s arms and carried her up the stairs to their bedchamber. Laying her on their large, comfortable bed, he stood aside as Meriel examined her third patient of the evening.

As soon as she touched Alexandra, she announced, “She is fevered, and I can hear fluid in her breathing.” She asked for her bag, which Saelbeth immediately fetched from Charika’s sickroom. Opening her bag, the elleth took out several containers and headed toward the kitchen to prepare them for use, instructing Legolas to get his wife undressed and under the blankets. Haldir reached out and took some of the bottles and pouches from her.

“Allow me to assist you, Meriel.” She bowed slightly in acquiescence and they left the others alone.

“This weather is not helping her condition,” Saelbeth said. “She should remain someplace warm and dry until she recovers.”

“I assure you, I will keep her warm,” Legolas said before the others returned to the private receiving room of the couple’s bedchamber, and he proceeded with what would normally be the pleasant task of undressing his wife. Under the current circumstances, however, he felt a nameless anxiety. She was pale, yet her skin burned. He covered her, then sat next to her, watching over his beloved, just as Rumil did, down the hall.

In the kitchen, Meriel turned to Haldir as she set the kettle on the fire.

“Now, my lord, will you tell me why you sent for me?”

He smiled slightly. “Other than needing the services of a healer for the ladies and Legolas?” She nodded. “I know your discretion can be trusted, and this matter requires someone of your particular skill set: a healer, a warrior and someone of wisdom.”

She began preparing different herbs for an infusion and another set for a poultice for Lady Alexandra as Haldir’s came to stand behind her. His hands lightly rubbed her upper arms and shoulders before slipping around her waist. He nuzzled her neck, lightly biting the point of her ear as he traced it with the tip of his tongue.

“Besides, I have missed you.”

As she began grinding the herbs for the poultice, she glanced back at the handsome Marchwarden. “And I have missed you. But surely, you could have visited me at home, or I at yours. Why summon me here?”

“If necessary,” he answered. “I know you would be able to protect your patients.” At her questioning glance, he continued. “We are all uneasy about this recent incursion by dark creatures into the forest. And the one behind it made it known to Legolas that he would likely be back. The presence of another warrior in the house can do no harm. In addition, I know you would do everything possible for Charika because of the love you bear Rumil. If things should go badly for her, I know your presence would help to ease his sorrow.”

“Of course I will do all that I can for Rumil’s lady. And were she to be threatened by outside forces, I would protect her as is my duty as Rumil’s friend, and as an Elven warrior.” She turned to face the exquisite Elf. His hard, muscular body felt good pressed against hers. Only their self-discipline prevented them from joining on the pastry table in the lord’s kitchen.

“You have the support of us all, Meriel. Whatever you need to help all three of your patients recover, you have but to say it.” He moved closer and, lifting her chin, brought his lips to hers. He kissed her gently, but thoroughly. When it ended he smiled and added, “You also have my personal thanks.”

“After this crisis has passed, I shall expect a more … substantial display of gratitude,” she replied in a tone that said she meant business.

He raised a brow and bowed slightly. “Of course.” He left her to her work and returned to join the others.

She smiled at the memory of his sudden kiss. He was quite the beautiful Elf: that magnificent silvery blonde hair; dark blue eyes; lithe, powerful, smooth-muscled body; strong lips. Ah yes---those lips.

Which brought her thoughts to the subject of current lovers. At present, she did not have a particular bedmate; she’d last been with Haldir---and Orophin---the night the recent storms began. She’d known the brothers back in Lothlorien and had, at one time or another, lain with each of them, though she spent more time with Haldir than any of the others. Rumil had recently taken an interest in the Haradrim woman and seemed quite happy in his present circumstance.

Orophin---she had no idea what went on in the mind of that quiet, but intense Elf. Still, she occasionally shared his bed---or he, hers---when mutual desire arose. She recalled how during the recent war with the Eastern Alliance, he had sought her out in the Elven camp on more than one occasion. She knew he also visited with Gilraen at times before they had gone into Rhun.

If there were someone she could point to as her most consistent lover, it would be Haldir. She and the Captain of the Galadhrim had a relaxed relationship---neither held an exclusive claim on the other’s body or affection; yet they were quite comfortable with each other.


Shortly after she regained consciousness, Alex’s fever hit with full force. Her eyes felt hot and her body shook with chills. The poultices felt good on her chest and back, though the infusion Meriel insisted she drink almost made her throw up.

She was mortified that she had fainted. She insisted she was able to be up and about; after all, she needed to stay with Charika. Meriel matter-of-factly told her she was to remain in bed; Rumil was with Charika. Alex muttered something in her own language the She-Elf did not recognize, but understood as a curse.

Leaning close to her patient, she whispered, “Besides, my lady. Your husband is under orders to remain in bed and rest as well. You will have amiable company.” That silenced her protests. She could not argue with being forced to spend time in bed with her husband.

Legolas dutifully took the medicines Meriel ordered for him, and made certain Alex took hers. He was, in theory, ‘in bed’; however, his time was spent watching over his wife. He applied cool compresses to her forehead, and helped Meriel apply warm poultices to her chest. He held her as coughs and chills wracked her body; and when her fevered brain produced nightmares, he was there to comfort her, murmuring soothing words, sometimes singing her the Elvish lullabies she enjoyed so.

His efforts were quite beneficial for his wife’s health; not so much for his own. He found himself succumbing to fatigue much easier than normal; and his rest was not as serene as he would hope. His wounds healed, slowly, the bite on his shoulder seemingly reluctant to completely fade. Still, he made it a point to visit Rumil and Charika every day.

The eastern woman recovered slowly, but steadily. The swelling finally went down, though both of her eyes had dark brown and purple discolorations surrounding them. Fortunately, she had no loss of vision, for which they were all grateful. Her ribs were terribly painful, and her raw skin, where the brutal whipping had peeled it away in spots, was quite uncomfortable. Her knife wound, however, healed without any problem at all and it served to remind Legolas that Morgoth had been true to his word.

Charika endured her discomfort without complaint and, when she asked about Alex and found the woman had not visited her because of a fever, she tried to talk Rumil into taking her to sit with her friend. Legolas had to insist that Alex may be contagious and they would not risk Charika’s health, before the woman ceased her pleading.

He watched Rumil and noted the tenderness with which his friend treated the woman. He still felt terribly guilty about what had happened, but when he tried to express his regret to Rumil, the other Elf had cut him off.

“Do not apologize, Legolas. You were not even the target, yet you suffered as well at the hands of Charika’s kidnapper.”

“My sufferings were nothing compared to hers,” Legolas said, with shame. “She endured so much from Lastharos; much more than any of our kind could tolerate. The worst part, was how she seemed to accept it as her due; she even told me, it was her lot in life. And I could do nothing to stop his attacks.” Legolas looked Rumil in the eye. “I failed her and I failed you.”

“They say Lorien Elves are excruciatingly egotistical, but I believe Mirkwood Elves are more so,” Rumil said, his sad smile belying the harsh words. “Are you so mighty, Prince Legolas, that you can single-handedly save everyone under any circumstances, regardless of the number and strength of your opponent and the lack of any weapons or resources on your part? Really, my friend. Your pride knows no bounds.”

Legolas had never thought of it that way and later, as he lay next to Alex, who was actually sleeping quietly, for a change, he found himself falling into a peaceful slumber of his own.


With Rumil’s words having helped ease his feelings of guilt, Legolas found it easier to rest, especially now that Alex seemed to be recoving as well. She no longer tossed with fevered delirium, though she still coughed, the sound harsh and painful. Still, the medicines Meriel left for her helped and she slept with enough peace that her husband could also relax.

One morning, he returned from checking on Rumil and Charika to find his wife sitting up, alert and coherent for the first time since taking to her sickbed. He was overwhelmed with relief and gathered her into his arms.

“My love! I was so frightened. Please, forgive me---you would not have become ill if you had not been searching for me.” He sat on the side of the bed and held her hands.

“It’s alright, Legolas. I’m much better now.” She looked around the room, as if expecting someone to be eavesdropping. “What I really want is a bath.”

Her husband thought he had mistaken the look in her eye---surely, she had been so ill, she could not mean to …

No. She was insistent and a slow smile spread across his lips. He leaned down to kiss her and she turned her head.

“Legolas, I have dead hog breath! You don’t want to kiss me before I’ve had a chance to brush my teeth.”

Since she’d used that phrase to describe her breath before, he understood her meaning, but laughed and caught her chin, turning her back to face him.

“I care not, my wife. I will kiss you anyway.” He was true to his word and, despite her misgivings, she gave in and allowed herself to enjoy the moment. She knew it must be quite painful for him as Elven senses were more acute than a mortal’s, yet he kissed her long and deep and she loved him more than ever.

Although Meriel did not want her to catch a chill, she understood the woman’s desire. Hot water was brought and Legolas insisted on carrying his wife to the tub and bathing her. She insisted that she first be allowed to brush her teeth and had to admit, her mouth felt so much better; worthy of Elvish kisses. Legolas joined her in the large tub and gently washed her hair, patiently untangling the knots that had worked their way in during her illness.

She reclined against her husband’s chest as they luxuriated in the warm, sweet-smelling water. Her head rested on his shoulder and his hands moved over her body beneath the water, stroking her thighs, her breasts, her belly, which caused her to giggle. He smiled at the sound of her laughter. It was a sign she was feeling better. Illness in his wife was rare, but when it happened, he was struck with terror. Mortals were so fragile and, unlike the Eldar, could succumb to illness and die. He was always afraid her illness could become fatal, and there was nothing he could do to truly protect her from her own body. At least in battle or when facing the threat of some outside influence, he could put himself between her and whatever endangered her. But a poison in her blood or other betrayal by her own body overcame his ability to protect his wife.

Alex did not remember much of the previous week. Once she had become ill, it was as though she had slipped into a completely different place, where time meant nothing and she could remember nothing. Well, she vaguely remembered hearing Elf-song, but instead of terrifying her, it was a source of comfort. She thought again of how blessed she was to have found Legolas; or, more accurately, to have been found by Legolas. Although some bad things had happened, they were ameliorated by the abundance of the good.

“How is Charika?” she asked, lulled by her husband’s hands stroking her arms and brushing her thighs.

“She is almost recovered. She still has pain in her ribs, and is slow to move, but she has at least been able to get up and walk along the upstairs gallery with Rumil supporting her. The flesh around her eyes is still discolored a bit and where the lash cut into her skin is healing over, though Meriel says there may be some scars.” He pushed his anger at the woman’s wounds out of his mind. He wished to concentrate on the woman in his arms, whose tight, rounded bottom pressed against his already throbbing need so deliciously.

“I am glad. I want to go see her once I have dressed. But right now, I want something else a little bit more.” She shifted a bit so her buttocks rubbed the hardness pressing against her flesh.

Legolas caught his breath at the sensation and moved his hands down to stroke her open thighs, pausing to tickle her sensitive spot right in the center. She turned her head to face him and he captured her mouth with his own, slipping his tongue around hers as he pulled her body up so that his member found her entrance. She sucked his tongue gently as her husband lowered her onto him and he slipped into her welcoming warmth.

His hands reached up to tease her pebble-like nipples and she sighed her pleasure into his mouth as her hips undulated on his lap, her internal muscles massaging his straining length. He lightly pinched the hard, rosy tips as Alex reached back and grasped his hip with one hand and entwined her fingers in his hair with the other, holding him close. She had missed his caress so much and it only took a brief touch of her husband to send her over the edge. She cried out against his lips as ecstasy washed over her like waves crashing against the shore. Collapsing in his arms, her breathing somewhat ragged, she let the feeling carry her for awhile.

When he sensed his wife reaching her own peak, Legolas allowed himself his own, but did not spill his seed inside of her. He was not ready for their sport to end quite yet. As she rested in lazy bliss, he turned her so she lay across his lap and gathered her against him. She idly traced the lines of his muscles on his chest and arm before teasing his nipple, lightly scraping it with her nails. His head leaned back and he smiled at the sensation. Alex laughed softly, then leaned down to flick her tongue over his other nipple.

She turned around and knelt before him, her knees straddling his thighs as she teased and tormented his rock-hard chest. She lightly bit one of the pink buds and he grasped her hips, pulling her back against his body. Trailing her mouth back up his throat, she took command of his lips and he surrendered eagerly. She moved her hips slightly so her womanhood lightly brushed the sensitive head of his aching member and he groaned into her mouth.

“Do you want me again?” she whispered, her tongue teasing his earlobe.

“Oh yes,” he sighed.

“What do you want, my love?”

“To be inside of you.”

“You’ve been inside of me. You’ll have to be more specific than that,” she laughed biting his lower lip gently before kissing him again, her hands smoothing over his chest and shoulders, gripping the hard muscles in his upper arms.

“I want you to take me,” he murmured against her lips. “Ride me and take your own pleasure from my body.”

She smiled slowly and looked into his passion-filled eyes. Reaching to the table behind him, where the soaps and brushes were kept, she picked up a small phial of the slightly spicy, slightly sweet oil used in their bathwater. She poured a bit onto her fingertips and, raising up, reached behind to rub it against her. Her husband felt a shiver of anticipation and she could see it in his gaze. Lowering her mouth to his, she once again kissed him deeply as she reached down and grasped his aching hardness and guided it to her tight opening.

He moaned as she lowered herself onto him, feeling him forced into her body. Her breath caught as a sudden, brief pain quickly gave way to a delicious pleasure. She pressed down against him, tightly sheathing his considerable length inside of her.

Legolas could barely stand the exquisite pressure engulfing him. It felt so good, it almost drove him over the edge immediately. He knew, however, his wife would not want him to come so quickly; she liked to draw out his pleasure. She placed her hands on either side of his face and forced him to look into her eyes as she slowly raised up, then slid back down onto him.

Alex knew her husband was holding on by a thin hair to his self control. He had been delighted to learn she enjoyed all forms joining with him, though she knew this particular way was one that tested the limits of his Elven discipline. She tightened her muscles and rotated her hips a bit and he closed his eyes, biting his lip as he tried to resist the sharp jolts of ecstasy shooting through him. She laughed softly, and lightly twisted his nipples as she suddenly ground against him.

It was more than he could bear and he gripped her hips, pulling her down against him as he thrust up into her. He reached up with one hand and knotted his fingers in her hair, growling his passion as he crushed her lips to his. The thrill of her husband taking control of her pushed Alex to yet another peak and both cried out their rapture as she felt him loose his seed into her body.

She rested against his chest, her face buried against his neck as they recovered from their explosion. Legolas stroked her back and the curves of her bottom and again wondered what he had done to be blessed by such a gift from the Valar as his wife. For her part, Alex could not imagine bliss greater than being in her husband’s arms.

Afterward, he helped her to dress and braided her hair into a single, simple plait. The olive-green gown with black trim at the wide, rounded neck, was almost too large, as Alex had lost a good bit of weight during the trek to Mordor and back, and her subsequent illness. He laced it tightly so the bodice would not fall from her shoulders and paused to kiss her again softly before walking slowly down the gallery to the other wing where Charika’s room lay, his wife leaning against him for support.

They entered the room after Legolas’ soft knock had been answered by Rumil. The Lorien Elf bowed to Alex and expressed his happiness to see her up and about. She thanked him and Legolas led her to Charika’s bedside. Alex had to admit, her friend looked much better than she had the last time she’d seen her. Two black eyes aside, the woman’s gaze was open and excited to see her.

The two women embraced and Rumil and Legolas slipped out of the room so the ladies could speak in private.

“You look tired, my friend,” Legolas said, eyeing the other Elf critically.

“I am well,” Rumil replied.

“You do not rest. Believe me, I know what it is like.”

“I rest as she sleeps.”

“No, you do not. You watch her. You look to see that she is still breathing; you watch for whatever would come to do her harm; you try to remain on guard so the one you love is protected.” Legolas put a comforting hand on Rumil’s shoulder. “I know what you do, for I do the same thing.”

The light blue eyes of the Lorien Elf met Legolas’ steel-blue ones. “I am one of the Guardians of the Golden Wood. For millennia I helped to protect those in my care from Orc, fell beasts, Uruk-Hai, and the other forces of darkness. Yet, in a time of peace, I could not keep safe the one who needs my protection the most.”

Legolas shook his head. “Who was it that lectured me about being able to protect everyone all the time against everything?” Rumil looked away and the prince continued. “There was no way to have anticipated this attack against Charika. You cannot let yourself feel guilt because of what happened.”

“I should have been with her. I should not have left her that night---.”

“Did you not have the Watch?”

“Yes, but---.”

“Then you were doing your duty. You could not have remained with her. And you were patrolling a different section of the forest, so there was no way you would have known she was being targeted. Rumil,” he said, meeting his friend’s anguished gaze, “there was nothing you could have done and you are not responsible for what happened to the lady. Lastharos is the one who caused this. Him and no one else.”

Rumil nodded. “I will find him and kill him before I leave Middle Earth.”

“And I will help you.”

The other Elf smiled grimly at Legolas’ words. He knew his friend understood what it was like to have the woman you loved taken and abused. Legolas understood vengeance well.

Alex and Charika chatted about inconsequential things: how Alex had gotten ill; how Lembas got awful old in a sort time; how quiet and cozy the room Charika was staying in was compared to much of the rest of the enormous house.

“How are you feeling?”

Charika sighed. “I am still very sore. My lord will not be able to pleasure himself with me for some time yet.”

Alex closed her eyes. “Charika, Rumil is worried sick about you. His concern is not about how quickly he can jump back into bed with you.”

The other woman frowned. “But he lies with me now. He has already returned to my bed. But we have been unable to join our bodies yet. Mariel says I should not do so until the pain is gone completely and my wounds have healed.”

“Listen to me. Rumil does not see you as his … concubine. He cares for you, not just your body.”

Her friend looked out of the window. “He has been good to me, and has been my lord and protector since before we arrived here. I have tried to please him. But now, I cannot. My body will be scarred and there are some forms of joining I may never be able to perform adequately again.” Alex was briefly reminded of her recent pleasant interlude with Legolas, but her thoughts were immediately brought back to the conversation at hand when she saw unshed tears in Charika’s eyes. “I know what happens to women when they can no longer please their lord. I do not wish to die yet---I like it here in Ithilien.”

“What?” Alex could not believe what she was hearing. “Where did you get such a notion? No one is going to let you die; and you can stay in Ithilien as long as you like.”

Charika shook her head. “Women who can no longer perform their duties are put to death, if they are favored by their masters. If not, they are sold to men like Lastharos, to be tortured and killed for the amusement of their new owner and his friends.”

Rising nausea forced Alex to look away and try to gather her self control. Once she was fairly certain she could speak without resorting to shouts and epithets, she turned back and spoke with as much serenity as she could muster.

“You are not among those vile creatures anymore, Charika. Here, no one discards anyone. And you are not Rumil’s property, you are his lover. He doesn’t come to you simply to sate his physical desires with your body. He loves you. Hasn’t he told you that?”

The eastern woman nodded. “He has said that he cares for me; I believe he has even used the word love before. Yet, he is kind; he does not try to hurt me or humiliate me. I am grateful for his care of my feelings.”

Alex closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Charika, do you love Rumil?”

“I do not know. I do not think I have ever loved anyone, so I do not know what it is like.”

Her friend smiled. “Do you think about him when he’s not around? Is his happiness the most important thing in the world to you? Do you feel safe in his arms? Would you be willing to die for him? Kill for him? Would you do anything for his happiness, even if it meant letting him go and never seeing him again? Does your heart feel content when you are with him, when you think about him? Do you feel that, with him, you are complete; that a part of you which was missing, has been found and you are now whole?”

“Is that what it is like for you and Prince Legolas?” Charika asked softly.

“Yes,” Alex replied without hesitation.

Charika thought. “I do think of him almost all the time, and I would do anything to please him and see him happy. He makes me feel very safe and protected. His smile brings such joy to my heart! And, yes, I would willingly give my life if it meant his happiness would be fulfilled. I am lonely without him,” she mused. “I have never really felt lonely before. But now, when Rumil is not with me, I am lonely.” She looked at Alex. “Is that love?”

The other woman smiled. “I believe so. Only you know if it is truly love. Your heart will tell you. But, Charika, when you love someone, there is sharing, give and take. Have you ever told Rumil of your fears that you will be cast off? Have you talked with him about making love once you’ve recovered?”

“Oh, no! It is not my place to burden him with such. It is my duty to see that his needs and pleasure are taken care of.”

“No, you don’t understand,” Alex sighed. “You are Rumil’s lover, his partner, not his servant. He is your mate, not your master. You are equals; you owe it to him to tell him of your fears and your hopes. You should share with him your sorrow as well as your happiness; your tears as well as your laughter.”

“But---.”

“No ‘buts’. Talk to him. Believe me, he will understand.” Her voice dropped and she said almost to herself, “You would not believe how well these people understand.”

Alex stood, holding on to the back of the chair for support and leaned over, kissing her friend softly on the cheek. Straightening, she said, “He is looking for some way to help you heal, and wants to share your burden. I’ve been there, in the same position as you: raped, beaten, abused, and terrified of talking about it to the one person I should have gone to in the first place. Legolas suffered needlessly because I was so frightened of telling him what had happened to me for fear he would turn away from me. Talk to Rumil. Believe me, you will be surprised at how much quicker you will heal.”

She made her way to the door and opened it. Legolas saw her and ran to take her arm. He bid Charika farewell and held Alex close to him as they started back toward their private chambers. She stopped as they approached Rumil, who was heading back to Charika’s room.

“She’s very afraid, and not of what you think. Lastharos is a demon sent to torture her and she understands that; but what preys on her mind is far worse. I told her she needed to confide in you. Don’t push her, but try to put yourself in her place, and you’ll understand what her fears are. She was raised to be a concubine in a harem; what do you think would frighten and worry her the most?”

She saw understanding dawn in his eyes and he thanked her bowing respectfully before returning to the bedside of his lover.

“I trust you had a good talk with our friend,” Legolas said as they returned to their private sitting room and settled onto the couch, his arms around her, Dexter and Dita on the other side of her, rolling over for belly rubs.

“I cannot imagine what her life was like to screw her up like this.” Alex scratched the furry tummies and the little dogs wriggled in bliss. “She’s afraid Rumil will throw her away or have her killed, because she can’t ‘see to his pleasure’ right now, and may not be able to do everything she did before. She’s worried about having scars, that she won’t be attractive enough for him---well, that I can see. I’d be worried about that too. But still: afraid of being killed or sold to someone who will kill you slowly for pleasure. Who lives like this?”

Legolas tried to follow his wife’s words. The images they presented were disturbing. He shook his head.

“We do not know what it is like because we have always been free,” he sighed. “I know Rumil loves her. We can only hope he will be able to show her how to return his love.”

They sat quietly for a few moments, enjoying their own blissful companionship. Finally, Alex looked at her husband.

“Legolas, my love?”

“Yes, my sweet?”

“I’m hungry. And if I see another piece of Lembas, I will scream and start tossing breakable objects off the balcony.”


The convalescents in the household gradually regained their strength and soon, things were back to normal. Charika returned to her home and Rumil quietly moved in with her, though he ostensibly maintained his residence at the home of his brothers; he wanted Charika to still have some form of technical independence. But, for all intents and purposes, they lived together, if not as husband and wife, then certainly as lovers. Alex referred to them as ‘domestic partners’, a strange phrase to her husband and their friends, but actually quite adequately descriptive without being too intimate.

Soon, Legolas and Alexandra were once again running an ‘open house’ as she called it. Glorfindel came and went as he pleased, often spending nights out with Saelbeth doing goodness know’s what, but usually making it in for dinner, along with his partner in crime. Haldir and Orophin were regulars in the house, as at home there as in their own dwelling. The Elven smiths, Balewith and Morhir also joined their friends on occasion, though they were kept busy making sure the armament of the Elven army was kept in perfect shape. When the Firstborn ‘sparred’ with each other, they stopped just short of maiming, so the arms frequently required repair or replacement.

Other friends dropped in on the couple as they pleased: Calaglin, Fereveldir, Dinedal, even the elusive Figwit---whose nickname was a well-guarded secret among the Eldar. When Alex asked Legolas and the others, they just smiled and maintained their silence. Glorfindel did tell her the beautiful, somewhat shy Elf had earned it before the War of the Last Alliance, and it was bestowed upon him by none other than Gil-Galad himself. Alex could not find it or its root words in either Quenya or Sindarin texts and her friends laughed at her frustration.

Of course, when she became frustrated, she began searching for something to use up her excess energy. Legolas held his breath and asked the Valar to please guide his wife’s interest in some innocuous direction.