Will of the Valar.

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but the original characters and their adventures. The Tolkien Estate and New Line Cinema own Middle Earth and its regular denizens.

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They made love several more times before arising to meet the day. Every time they would wake up during the night or early morning hours, they would once again unite their bodies, often drifting off to sleep afterward still joined.

After they finally decided to leave their bed, Legolas gathered their discarded clothes and, handing Alex her tunic, pulled on his leggings. He opened the tent flap and retrieved fresh water, bringing it back and setting it on the table with last night’s left-over fruit and cheese. He saw her watching him from the pallet, sitting back on her knees, a speculative look on her face.

Alex studied her husband, admiring the way his fair skin shown in the morning sunlight. His smoothly muscled body was toned and perfect, reminding her of a gymnast’s. She held his tunic and inhaled his scent: leaves, waterfalls and a hint of cinnamon. She always wondered how he had a scent, though Elves did not sweat. He raised a brow in question and she laughed softly.

“Oh, just thinking about how lucky I am that you found me when I got here. I could’ve been wandering alone through Middle Earth forever without ever meeting anyone who would’ve taken the time to help me find my way. It’s like you were a guardian angel sent from heaven, just for me.”

“Perhaps you are my ‘guardian angel’,” he replied. “I was alone before you. My heart may have remained unfulfilled if you had not come to Middle Earth.” He had heard her speak of angels before and understood the concept. They sounded much like the Valar or Maia. Noticing her cheeks were unusually pink this morning he continued. “Is that all you were thinking of?”

She looked down at his tunic, smoothing the material between her fingers. “Oh, I was just thinking how here we are, in the middle of a bunch of Elves who can hear really well, and all that separates us from them are some cloth walls, and we were not exactly … quiet earlier …” Her voice trailed off and he almost laughed at her sudden bout of modesty.

“After all this time, you still find embarrassment in others who may overhear or even happen to see us?”

She didn’t look up, but nodded and sighed. She knew it didn’t bother her husband or his kin. But sometimes her modesty flared up at the most inopportune times.

“Alex, my love. You are my wife. Do you think my people do not know what goes on between husband and wife? Do you think they supposed we retired to our tent and just held hands for the rest of the night?” She shook her head and began to laugh.

“No, of course not.”

He could not resist teasing her further. “I know you do not believe my brothers and sisters know nothing about indulging in pleasures of the flesh. Do you think they might have their innocence lost because they might have heard us making love?”

“Oh, you know I don’t!” She tossed him his tunic. “Put that on. I don’t want you tempting anyone.”

He slipped his arms into the garment and began fastening it. “Not even you?”

She rose and walked over to where he was dressing. Covering his hands with hers, she pulled them down and leaned against him, kissing his bare chest, before moving to his lips. They completely forgot about his meeting with Aragorn this morning and when Elladan and Elrohir stepped into the tent, they were treated to the sight of Legolas, clad only in his leggings, and Alex in nothing but a fairly short tunic that was quickly becoming shorter as Legolas’ hand moved up her thigh, wrapped in each other’s arms, lips glued together and completely oblivious to their surroundings.

“Good morning, little Elflings,” Elrohir said loudly.

Legolas whirled around, pushing Alex behind him as he brought up the knife from the table behind her.

“Ai, Elbereth! Be careful, my friend. This is a new tunic,” Elladan laughed as he barely jumped back in time to avoid a nasty cut.”

“What are you doing here?” Legolas asked crossly.

“We have a meeting with the two kings this morning, and came to walk with you.” Elrohir casually picked up one of the apples and took a bite. “You’re looking as beautiful as ever, Alexandra.”

She smiled and replied, “Why thank you. So are you.”

Once again, jealousy reared its head and Legolas bit off a sharp retort. How dare that Elf come in here, look at his wife, touch her, kiss her … What was wrong with him? Why was he so fixated on Elrohir all of a sudden? The twins had been flirting with Alex, teasing her; and she had been returning their attentions jokingly; ever since they met her. She seemed to find it innocent enough, and he did not doubt her love for him at all. So why was he now seeing Elrohir as someone who was trying to come between him and his wife?

“Legolas? Legolas! Is everything alright?” Elladan’s voice contained a note of concern.

The prince looked around. The other three were watching him closely. Alex put her hand on his arm.

“You seemed to be somewhere else, my love,” she said worriedly. “Are you alright?”

He smiled. “I am fine, my sweet.” He pulled his tunic back on and quickly fastened it. and slipped his boots on. Looking at Alex, he arched a brow. “Are you planning on walking through the camps like that?”

She looked down at her bare legs. “Oh. I guess not.” She dressed quickly. “I didn’t know I was coming with you.”

He took her face between his hands and looked into her eyes. “From this point on, Alexandra, we go everywhere together.” He kissed her again, resisting the urge to carry it farther. The twins, he noticed took great interest in the fruit tray on the table. He smiled against her lips, then took her hand. “Come, my love.”

The picture was fairly grim as they made their way to Aragorn’s command tent. Legolas felt his heart ache at the destruction. Dead bodies were laid out under the shade of nearby trees and there were signs of the previous two days’ bloody battles. The wounded were placed in the bigger tents and Aragorn had abandoned his large one for a tent just like any other soldier’s. His command tent now housed an infirmary.

“When are the remainder of the Elves expected to arrive?” Eomer asked Legolas as the two friends greeted one another.

“I would say by tomorrow,” the prince replied. “Faramir and his men should follow shortly. He needed to take Elboron home to Eowyn.”

Eomer turned to Alexandra. “I am sorry, Lady Alexandra, that I did not give you my thanks last night, for keeping my nephew safe. I know my sister is grateful, also.”

She smiled graciously. “No thanks are necessary, but I do appreciate your words.”

Knowing the subject was not an easy one, Eomer was happy to let it drop.

“My friends, we cannot continue on our present course,” Aragorn sounded weary. “Are there any suggestions for bringing this matter to a close?”

Alexandra remained on the fringe of the group. She was glad the decisions were not hers to make. Aragorn---and Eomer, looked to have aged 10 years in the past few months since she’d last seen them. She was reminded that Middle Earth may seem idyllic---and the home she shared with Legolas in Ithilien certainly fit that description---but there were so many dangers here, and it faced the same struggles of any civilization.

The Elves would all, probably, leave Middle Earth and answer the call of the sea, crossing into the west to the Undying Lands, the eventual home of all Elf-kind. After five years, she still felt an emptiness in her heart and some queasiness when she thought of Legolas making that journey one day. He promised her he would never answer that call if it meant leaving her. But, even though he may wait until after she had died, it was still just a kinder version of suicide, in her mind.

But, her feelings aside, the fact remained that the Elves would eventually leave the free people of the west of Middle Earth and then, who would protect them? Men had been depending on the Elves for a long time. It was now the Fourth Age, the Age of Men, as Legolas and the others explained to her. Men were going to have to work out some way to live together. It may be a future of constant war, or they may learn to rise above their differences. But it would have to be something that did not depend on Elves, in the end.

Yet right now, the Elves were all that stood between the Eastern Alliance and the kingdoms of the west. She looked around at the Elven warriors gathered, listening to the debate, seldom speaking. Occasionally they would interject an opinion, but Rumil and Orophin said nothing. Glorfindel rarely spoke, Elladan and Elrohir were almost as quiet and even Legolas, the leader of the Elven army, kept his own counsel. She knew they were having the same thoughts as her.

She was forced to admire their courage and their honor. They were fighting to defend people who were not their own so a land that they would soon abandon might have peace. Mortals looked to them for protection, but feared them because they were mysterious, mystical and immortal. Yet here they were, risking their immortal lives to shield the people of the free kingdoms of Men.

She turned away. Somehow, thoughts of their sacrifice brought her immense sadness. Possibly it was just because they were her friends and her husband was their leader. But she thought it went deeper than that---she just didn’t want to think about it too much.

Orophin noticed her standing with her arms crossed, as if cold. He moved next to her and, taking off his cloak, placed it around her shoulders. She looked up and smiled her thanks. She had not had much opportunity to speak with him since she had “come back from the dead”, as it were.

“I’m sorry for the way I acted when you and Glorfindel found me,” she said in a low voice. “Thank you for coming for me.”

“There is no need to thank me, Alexandra. You and Legolas are dear friends; Eowyn and Faramir’s child was a helpless victim. There was nothing else I could have done.”

She looked at her friend. He was extraordinarily handsome, even for an Elf, with high cheekbones, slightly slanted, almond-shaped eyes of a crystal-clear blue, long silky silvery blonde hair, and that lithe, muscular body much like her husband’s. He had the Lorien arrogance shared by Haldir and Rumil, and the other Wardens of Lothlorien. But he also had a very dry, somewhat sarcastic sense of humor, much like her. They had become close friends shortly after she and Legolas had married and visited the Golden Wood before the Lady of Light had crossed into the West. Next to Legolas, he was her closest friend in Middle Earth.

“You have always been so good to me, Orophin. I don’t know if I’ve ever told you how much you and your friendship mean to me.” She didn’t know why she felt compelled to tell him that; but somehow, she believed it needed to be said.

Orophin felt his heart catch at her words. There were things he wished he could say to her in return, but could not. Instead, he gave her one of his rare smiles.

“Thank you, Alexandra. Your friendship is something I will always treasure in my heart.” It was as close as he could come to saying what he felt for her. As a mortal, she may not understand if he said more.

She looked at him and he saw something flicker in her eyes; like a flash of insight. Then, she reached out and touched his shoulder softly. “Thank you, Orophin.”

“For?” The heat of her hand on his shoulder burned through his jacket and tunic.

She smiled. “For giving me so much of yourself.”

He tilted his head slightly. “What do you mean?”

Speaking softly, she answered, “You give me your friendship, protection, respect and love without asking for anything in return, and do so freely: you are not obligated or bound to me.”

“I am bound by the … friendship we share, and the friendship and brotherhood I share with your husband.” Sweet Eru, give him strength! If they had been alone … What? He could not have yielded to his desire---she was the wife of his friend, and he would never violate the sanctity of their bond nor his friendship with either of them. His Elven self-control managed to suppress his yearnings, but could not quell them.

She seemed about to say more when understanding flickered in her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said, soundlessly, and stepped back, holding his gaze for a moment, before looking away.

Orophin tried to focus on the discussion at hand, but all he could think of was the woman standing a few feet from him, and her husband not much farther away. He had always been aware of a special friendship with Alex and had never found it a source of conflict. But for some reason, as he tracked her across the plains of Rhun, he could think only of her safety and what horrors she might be enduring. A voice in his mind had begun telling him that he felt more than the love of the Eldar for his friend. It was as if blinders had been removed and he could see that he yearned for the woman.

He had been shocked at how her tears and her vulnerability as he held her after finding her, had brought, not just sympathy, but a perverse sort of arousal. He had not been aware of it at the time, but later, the low, insinuating voice had brought it to his attention, reminding him of how her body had felt so fragile in his arms, and the heat of her tears soaking his tunic had burned his flesh.

He had tried to ignore the voice, but it never left him alone for long. During the previous night, he could hear their cries of desire as she and her husband pleasured each other and had fought the images the voice suggested to his mind. Instead, he had sought a She-Elf among the warriors, with whom he had occasionally dallied and spent the rest of the night enjoying her body. His passion sated for the moment, he had been relatively calm until he had seen Alex this morning standing alone and slightly shivering.

Their byplay did not go unnoticed. Glorfindel saw, and understood, and his heart ached. It was not within the nature of Elves to lust after another’s bondmate. It was a matter of personal honor, among other things. Yet, sometimes, it happened: Maeglin had desired his cousin, although she was married to another, and his craving for her had brought about the fall of Gondolin, a not-unimportant result of which had been Glorfindel’s own death. But, even though he despised Maeglin’s actions, he knew the other Elf had been influenced by Morgoth.

Legolas had also been targeted by the fallen Valar when they had been fighting to save Thranduil and his kingdom from Maelweth’s vengeance. The young prince had proven stronger than his unfortunate kinsman, but had been sorely tempted. Also, Morgoth had stirred in Legolas feelings of despair that left him vulnerable to the creature’s temptations.

Glorfindel had no doubt the fell voice he had caught in Mordor trying to convince Alexandra to kill herself was the same malicious being. He was also certain it had been Morgoth who had convinced her she was unclean and that the Elves would shun her. It sounded like Morgoth’s way: seduce into evil or tragedy by emphasizing fears and offering what seem to be perfect solutions to those he drags into despair. Now, he believed the Lorien Warden was also falling victim to the Evil One.

He knew Orophin loved Alexandra as a friend---Elf-kind loved deeply once the feelings were stirred; and the love they felt for their friends was no less strong than love for family or even a bond-mate. The main difference was the binding of one to one’s mate. It created a connection that could not be broken unless both parties released the other from the bond after one of them had passed into the West or the Halls of Waiting.

What Morgoth had done to Maeglin---and likely was doing to Orophin---was to accentuate that love and turn it into a craving. Why he did it, Glorfindel could not yet fathom. In Maeglin’s case, it was to bring about the betrayal of the kingdom so Morgoth’s minions could overrun it. With Orophin, he did not yet know.

No one else seemed to notice anything untoward between the woman and the Elf. Glorfindel vaguely wondered if he were misconstruing the entire episode. But the looks that passed between Alexandra and Orophin were unmistakable. She saw his desire, and he knew she was aware of it. The Evil One had a plan, and apparently had decided that letting people’s minds do the work for him was easier and more effective than presenting himself as a tempter, as he had done with Legolas. The Prince had told him of Morgoth’s promises, the most dreadful of which had been his promise to grant Alexandra immortality and be counted as Elf-kind so she and Legolas could spend eternity together---terrible, because it was the one thing the prince desired more than anything else and something he constantly asked of the Valar in his prayers.

What was he tempting Orophin with? Was he once again trying to seduce Legolas into following him? Was he keeping this war going so he could bring about the fall of the free kingdoms of men as well as the Elves remaining in Middle Earth? He decided he would have to watch the son of Thranduil closely and see if Morgoth had some new devilry planned.

An unexpected thought occurred to him. What if Morgoth were trying to target him as well? He did not think the Dark Lord had sought him, but would he even know? Orophin and Alexandra apparently were unaware it was an outside influence aimed at them. He felt fairly secure, but would need to be on his guard.

“Perhaps a smaller force would be more effective in finding and ending the source of this war,” Elladan was saying when Glorfindel returned his attention to the matter at hand.

“Do we wish to send troops into Harad and Rhun?” Legolas was sure the Gondorians and Rohirrim were unable to mount such an undertaking---they had many casualties and their men were weary. That it could be done was not in doubt. But invasion---it was not the ideal solution.

“Not an invasion force,” the other Elf replied, as if reading his mind, “but one which could move quickly.”

“Like Elves?” Aragorn shook his head. “We cannot ask the Firstborn to fight our battles anymore. It is more than enough that you stand with us here in defense. You cannot go into the land of the enemy on our behalf.”

Alex could see Eomer was torn---he liked the idea, although he, too, felt guilty about using the Elves to fight their battles. But the idea did have merit. She noticed Glorfindel had moved to her side and she spoke to him, softly.

“A small, efficient group can move rapidly, is more mobile, and doesn’t require all the support that would be needed by an invading army.” The Elf glanced at her. She was correct. “But it shouldn’t be Elves.”

“Do you think we are incapable of accomplishing the task?” he asked, curious as to her rationale.

She gave him a sarcastic look. “Yes. That’s it. No, of course not. If anybody can accomplish it, it would be the Elves. In fact, the entire Elven army could probably go in and move faster than just a small company of Men. And I don’t doubt, the Elves could conquer the entire country of Harad in less than a week, Rhun a few days later.” He smiled at her comment. “But, Men need to do it on their own. If the Elves do it for them, what will they have accomplished? Nothing. They will have learned nothing, and when the next conflict arises, and the Elves are all across the sea, who will the kingdoms of men look to for protection? Aragorn knows this, and Eomer is coming to see it.”

Glorfindel looked at Legolas’ wife appraisingly. The lady was wiser and more practical than he had thought. He had always considered her pleasant and entertaining, and she was obviously devoted to her husband. She could fight when called upon, although the limitations of her mortality kept her from being much of a challenge to an Elf. But he had never really spoken with her on such matters as this and he could see why his young kinsman chose her as his bondmate. It was no surprise, then that others such as the twins and Orophin and his brothers were such devoted friends to her. But then, they had spent more time around her and had likely seen this side of her before.

“But you know, it will be the Elves to do this,” he replied.

She sighed. “I know. Elves are the most co-dependent race I have ever encountered outside of my people.” At his questioning look she translated. “Enablers---you don’t let others make mistakes and learn from them; you protect them and fix the problems for them, and it seems like a good thing, but in reality, it keeps them from growing and learning.”

He had never thought of it like that. “But we are stronger. Is it not our duty to protect those weaker than we are?”

“In some cases, yes. But you have to let them learn and grow strong as well. Sometimes it’s a painful process, and there will be setbacks and failures. There’s nothing wrong with failure now and then.” She took a deep breath. “Forget I said anything,” she muttered.

“No, you raise interesting points. But the fact remains, Elves are the best equipped for what they are discussing, so we will be the ones given this task.”

She nodded glumly.

When the idea of sending a fast-moving, highly skilled force into enemy territory was first brought up, Legolas, like his kin, knew it would fall to the Elves. He did not wish to risk his people, but they were best able to accomplish the goal successfully. He had the same thought as the others: Who would do these things when the Elves were all gone? But his sense of duty pushed that thought away.

Then, another thought came to him, seemingly out of nowhere. If he led his forces into the east, he could track down the man who had harmed Alex and mete out punishment on the Easterlings at the same time he was removing the threat to the west. Revenge was an undesirable motive, but justice and protection were not.

“We should think through this strategy and decide by tomorrow,” Aragorn said, rubbing his face as if trying to wipe the cobwebs from his mind. Alex’s heart went out to the Gondorian king. He’d had a rocky start to his reign and it would likely not get much easier. From what Legolas had told her, he was a reluctant ruler anyway. “The rest of our forces from the north should be here by the next day at the latest. Let us hope our enemies are as weary as we.”


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The Elves walked back to their camp silently, each caught up in his own thoughts about what was to come and how best to accomplish their goals. When they reached Legolas’ tent, he asked that they come back that evening to discuss any ideas they might have on a strategy for success. When he stepped inside, holding the flap open for Alex, she hesitated.

“Is something wrong, my love?”

“I know it’s not important in the grand scheme of things, but is there somewhere we can go so I can bathe? Unlike you and your kind, I am a woman and I have to bathe or else I get really disgusting.”

He smiled. It had been several days since she’d been able to do more than wash off with water from a skin. And last night, they had been quite … active and she had developed a fine sheen of sweat that he’d found rather attractive, for some reason; perhaps because it was an outward sign of her passion.

“Of course,” he replied. “Come. We should also find you some more clothes as well.” As he led her through the camp, he stopped and asked one of the She-Elves if she knew of anyone with any spare clothing that might fit his wife better than his extra garments that she currently wore. The Elleth looked the woman over appraisingly, and nodded.

“I shall seek throughout the camp, my lord, and see what I can find and deliver it to your tent.”

“Thank you, Gilraen,” he answered with heartfelt gratitude.

She inclined her head in acknowledgement. She was a beautiful example of the females of her species. Besides being tall and slender, as were all of her people, she had a classic beauty that would have been breathtaking in a mortal woman, and was outright intimidating in a She-Elf. Her eyes were a dark blue and her hair was a rich mahogany brown. It was caught back in a complicated set of braids, but Alex could see it was wavy, and would probably be curly if unbound. Alex voiced her thanks as well then continued with her husband to the body of water that was not large enough to be a river, but too large to be a stream.

They walked along the banks until they were some distance from the camp and fairly secluded. She took off the cloak and realized she’d forgotten to return it to Orophin. Legolas looked in askance and she explained how she’d become slightly chilled and their friend had lent it to her. Legolas had been afraid it might have been Elrohir’s, but when he learned it was Orophin’s, he relaxed.

They both undressed and waded into the water, which was deeper than it looked. Diving down, they saw the bed sloped away steeply so that there was room to swim in the crystal clear water. To Alex, the water was a little too cool near the center, so she stayed in the shallower areas where the sunlight had warmed it. Legolas stood behind her and unbraided her hair---of course, it had a tendency to loosen itself almost magically anyway---before loosening his own. They washed themselves and then discovered a shelf of rock just below the surface where they could sit in the water, hidden from view.

Legolas seated himself and pulled her down into his lap. She leaned back against him, enjoying the feel of the current flowing gently over their skin, and the warmth of her husband’s solid, strong body supporting her. She laid her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes.

Her prince stroked her arms and kissed her neck as they sat, basking in the warm sun and cool waters. He wondered what she was thinking---she had been silent this morning at Aragorn’s tent.

“So, my love, what do you think of the choice to send Elves into the east?”

“Me? Oh, you don’t want to know want I think. Just ask Glorfindel. He’s already been illuminated by my wisdom.”

“Ah. You will share your thoughts with him, but not your husband?” he teased, biting her earlobe playfully.

“Yes, well, he doesn’t sleep with me. I don’t care if he thinks I’m an idiot.”

“Hmm. So you’re saying that, since I do sleep with you, it matters not what I think of your opinions?” His tongue slipped out and teased the flesh where her neck and shoulder met and she wriggled delightfully.

“Oh, I can make up for my lapses in good sense in other ways with you,” she sighed as his hands moved around to cup her breasts. She turned her head slightly and he captured her lips with his as she raised herself slightly, then sank back onto her ready husband.

Later, as they sat on the grassy bank, letting the sun and warm air dry their bodies, and Legolas braided her hair, he again asked her opinion.

“Honestly? I know the Elves can do it, but should you?”

“Why should we not?” Her answer had him curious.

“When will the Elves let Men take over their own destinies?”

“They do control their destinies …”

“Not as long as the Elves keep bailing them out every time they get in trouble.”

“But it was not the Elves who won the day at Pelennor; not an Elf who slew the Witch King or destroyed Sauron’s armies.”

“I know. But since then, every battle that’s been fought has been won because of the strength of the Elves who’ve remained in Middle Earth. This war has gone on for over two years, and it’s been the Elves keeping the eastern flank safe. Men are going to have to live in this land; men should be the ones to either stand or fall on their own.”

He paused as he considered her words. “You see us as interfering with the destiny of men?” It was an odd concept, but not unlike the words of Elrond when Frodo first brought the ring to Rivendell.

“I don’t know. It’s just how it looks from my point of view. Granted, I’ve only been in Middle Earth a few years and I certainly don’t know much about the history of the place. But then, like I said, I’m an idiot. Maybe I’m just afraid.”

He turned her chin so she was facing him. “What do you fear, my love?”

She looked at her beautiful husband and her heart felt tight. “I am afraid of losing you in a battle that’s not yours to fight. I hate seeing your people sacrifice themselves for a cause that’s not their own. You should all be in the Undying Lands or wherever, living happy, immortal Elf lives, and not be worrying about the concerns of Men in a land you’ll never see again. You’ve done your time in Middle Earth, kept it safe for millennia. It’s time the Elves went to their reward.”

He could not believe her words. “I thought you abhorred the thought of Valinor,” he said.

“Not Valinor itself; just the thought of leaving and going to a place from which you can’t ever return.” She turned away and he resumed braiding her hair. “But it’s the place where all the good Elves go when they’re done with Middle Earth. I just … I don’t want to see you and your friends die needlessly.”

“But it would not be needless, Alex. We would be protecting those who need us. And when an Elf dies, he or she goes to the Halls of Waiting and may eventually go on to the Undying Lands. There is no void for an Elf, a place from which we can never return to be with our kind, far from the Valar and Eru.”

She gave a short, bitter laugh. “So where do the bad Elves go if you have no hell?”

“I suppose, they just stay in the Halls of Mandos.”

“And that wouldn’t be hell? They’d never get out and see their friends and loved ones again. Sounds like punishment to me.”

He secured the last of her braids and, turning her again, kissed her softly. “Do not fear for me or my brethren, my love. Besides, wherever I go, you will go.”

“Whither thou goest,” she whispered. He looked in askance and she just laughed. “Only an old quote from one of our holy books.” She looked up at him. “Want me to braid your hair for you?”

“No, my wife. I will do it. You … see if our clothes are dry.” She laughed at his obvious horror at her suggestion, and kissing him again got up and went to the tree where they had hung their clothes after washing them out. She gathered them and by the time she returned, Legolas had his hair back in perfect condition---not that it was ever out of place.

As they dressed, she said, “So. Where’s my dagger?”

“I have it in a safe place,” he replied. “And the sword you took from the Rhunians as well. Do you wish to carry that or look through the spare armament? I am certain you will find something useful.” He knew she was at home most with throwing daggers and a crossbow, but neither was available. He did not even bother suggesting a long bow.

“I’ll look, but I’ll keep that sword anyway.” Her voice dropped as if she were speaking to herself. “I won it.”

Legolas’ anger sparked at her words. He could not tell her why he was so willing for the Elves to undertake this quest. She would be beyond upset if she thought he was willing to risk his life simply to kill the man who raped her. A part of him still hated the thought of taking his people with him, but they could try to end the war---he only wanted one man’s blood.