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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The Elves had found Karandun’s keep. It was hidden in the wild hills to the northeast of Gondor. The ones who had taken Alex had not been skilled in stealth as their trail was ridiculously easy to follow. The scouts reported the keep had about 100 men lounging around the walls and the courtyard. How many were inside the vast building was impossible to say. The Elven archers positioned themselves so that each had at least one man in his or her sight. At Legolas’ signal, they unleashed the first---and in most cases, last--taste these mortals would have of Elven fury.

He stepped into the room silently, sword at the ready. The smell of blood was strongest in this room. Glorfindel immediately spotted the source: A man’s body hung upside down from a beam on the right side of the room, his throat cut and a pool of blood, just starting to congeal, covered the floor.

As a warrior who was in his second lifetime, he was accustomed to blood and death. But familiarity did not lessen his disgust. It was one thing to kill out of necessity, quite another to kill out of neglect, or even worse, torture and kill for pleasure.

His sharp hearing caught a sound coming from behind the only cell door leading from the room. Located at the back of the room, it was shrouded in shadow, but he could make out a glint beyond the bars of the small window in the door. He stood motionless, watching that glint until he discerned that it was light reflecting from an eye. Its owner slowly approached the door and he saw fine, strong fingers with silver nails curl around the bars.

Sheathing his sword, Glorfindel approached the door unhurriedly. He was now able to make out the features belonging to the face behind the eye he had spotted. There were two greenish eyes set into a pale, but lovely, face. Those eyes, however, were suspicious and something even the ancient Elf could not identify lurked behind them.

“You must be the elusive Lady Alexandra, wife to Prince Legolas.”

She nodded.

He gave her a dazzling smile. “I am Glorfindel. As soon as I can release these bolts, we can be on our way.”

“My husband?”

“He is here in the keep. We thought it best if we all took different areas to search.”

“We? Who else is here besides you and Legolas?”

The first bolt fell free and he went to work on the next. “The twins, of course, and Haldir, Orophin and Rumil. Others are outside the actual building under the command of Saelbeth, securing the rest of the area. There.” The second bolt broke loose and Glorfindel pulled the door open. Alex walked out slowly, her eyes searching the room rapidly. She did not flinch at the sight of the body, but did look sad for a moment.

Raising an eyebrow in askance, Glorfindel followed her gaze.

“He tried to free me. Karandun took exception to his actions.” She gave a sour smile, as if the name left a bad taste on her tongue.

“So it appears,” he murmured. “Now, lady, we must join the others and leave this accursed place. It has the stench of Orc about it.”

He moved out of the room ahead of her, drawing his sword.

“I need a sword.”

He turned in surprise. “My lady, you are in no condition to fight. In fact,” reaching out, he caught her as she swayed, “you are in no condition to even walk.”

“I’m fine,” she said in a weak voice. “I’m just so tired.” With her last word, she slumped against him. Glorfindel put his sword away and lifted her into his arms. As always, she was surprised at the strength of Elves. Glorfindel looked even more fragile than most, yet he lifted her as if she were nothing. She felt safe in the strong arms of the Elf and gave in to the exhaustion that had been plaguing her since the creature she’d come to call The Other had begun his twisted torments.

He moved quickly and lightly down the corridors and stairs. The woman in his arms did not look well. ‘Sweet Eru,’ he thought, ‘she must recover. Legolas is already half-mad with worry. If she were to die, he would lose all control. Then …” He did not finish that line of thinking. It was not one he wished to contemplate. Elven rage was something beyond terrible once it was unleashed. And any more injury to his lady would let slip the wrath Legolas was barely holding in check.

Pushing open the door to the hall where the others waited, Glorfindel was greeted by more than a dozen sets of eyes. Three Elves and 10 Men turned toward them as they entered the room.

Elladan immediately directed Glorfindel to lay Alex on a pallet covered by one of the Elven capes. Her pallor and rapid breathing concerned him. Bringing a hand to her cheek, he glanced at the older Elf.

“She is quite cold. How was she when you found her?”

“She was standing, barely, and spoke with me. But she complained of weakness and fainted as I carried her here.”

“Did she say anything about what happened to her?” Elladan took another cloak from Rumil and tucked it around her. Orophin moved closer while still keeping an eye on their prisoners. So far, the men had seemingly given up. They had sat passively while the Elves bound their hands behind them, and none had spoken since being herded into the hall.

Glorfindel shook his head. “Nothing. But I sense she has been injured. More than a wounding of the flesh.” His eyes met Elladan’s and the younger Elf nodded in understanding.

“I will see what I can do. It would be nice if she could talk to us, but I hesitate to pull her from a healing sleep.”

Glorfindel reached out and gave his young friend’s shoulder a squeeze before standing and moving toward the prisoners. Rumil and Orophin followed, giving Elladan and his patient privacy.

“Alexandra, hear my voice,” Elladan spoke low and soothingly. “I am going to examine you for injury.” He was unsure if she could hear him, but, if she had suffered at the hands of Orcs and Karandun, he did not wish to frighten her by touching her without at least some warning.

Her lips were cracked and dry, as if she had been denied water for many days. He pulled her bodice open. It had been torn and laced back together to give her some modicum of privacy, but parted easily. Faint marks on her breasts, chest and stomach caused him to frown in confusion until he identified them. They were the marks of a lash---more than one. They were barely discernable and would have been invisible to human eyes, but they covered the front of her body. He lifted her skirt enough to see the marks continued on her lower belly and thighs. He did not wish to be intrusive, but he had to know what else had been done to her. Easing one of her legs up, he could see her inner thighs and the soft area between her legs were also covered with the marks. He felt anger welling up inside of him. He lifted her enough to look on her back and saw the same marks there as well. He had no doubt her bottom was also covered with them.

If he could keep this knowledge from Legolas, he would. His friend was already hurt and angered and seeking vengeance. He almost felt sorry for Karandun.

The door at the opposite end of the room opened and Haldir and Elrohir entered. They did not bring prisoners, but fresh blood stained both Elves’ swords. His twin came over to where he was re-covering Alexandra with the cloak. Haldir remained with his brothers and Glorfindel, who filled them in on what he had found while searching for their friend’s wife.

“She has been tortured, brother.” Elladan’s voice was low with anger. “She was beaten without mercy and I do not doubt she has suffered further abuse. The wounds are too personal in nature.”

Elrohir shook his head. “Why does she sleep so deeply? I like not her color, nor the shallowness of her breaths.”

“Glorfindel said she was awake and alert when he found her, but when she began to leave with him, she collapsed and soon after lost consciousness. It could be from the beatings.”

The subject of their conversation gave a soft moan. All conversation in the room immediately ceased as the Elves caught the sound. A frown creased her brow and she tossed her head weakly, as if caught in an unpleasant dream.

“Alexandra,” whispered Elrohir, “Can you hear us? You are safe. Your friends surround you and Legolas will be here soon. Rest, my lady.” He stroked her hair and she seemed less agitated.

“The Master was merciless in his punishment of the wench,” a voice spoke from the group of prisoners. Orophin spotted the speaker and dragged him to where the other Elves stood.

“Speak.” Haldir commanded. His tone brooked no argument. The March Warden of Lorien knew how to intimidate.

“He was obsessed with her.” The man was old, for a human. His hair was gray and his skin weathered. His captors noticed he could not allow his gaze to rest upon the woman for long. “He wouldn’t rest until he had her. At first we thought he wanted the woman for himself, but it soon became clear he wanted her only to punish her.”

The cold gazes of the Elves did nothing to set the man at ease, but he also knew they held the upper hand.

“Continue.” Haldir spoke again. “We would know why your Master kidnapped the wife of an Elven Prince, held her prisoner, and tortured her, all the while neglecting his duty to protect Gondor’s northern borders during time of war”

The man licked his lips. “The Master said there was nothing to worry about---his patron had secured the borders to the north---he had some power over Orcs and they wouldn’t allow an attack on Gondor from the north.” The Elves listening to his tale exchanged carefully neutral, but immensely meaningful glances as the man continued.

“But he said that the Elves were the true enemies of Men. I never had any quarrel with Elf-kind. In fact, most of us had never even seen one until this war. But the Master---something in the past, with one of his ancestors I think. There’s some reason he absolutely hates Elves. I don’t know if even he remembers what it was exactly. But he was jealous of the regard King Elessar had for the Elf Prince. He saw it as the King setting an Elf above his own kind. Then, this woman, she became the focus of his hatred. He knew he could never actually do anything to the Prince. But the woman was another matter. She was a mortal woman who had given herself to an Elf. The Master saw her as a traitor to her race.”

The Elves continued to look upon him with dispassionate eyes. It occurred to the man these creatures were not the weak and fragile beings they had been led to believe. He was surrounded by deadly efficient assassins. He swallowed and continued his tale.

“He told us once we had taken her, we would bring her here where she would be punished and we would be rewarded. He said there were others who felt like he did and would pay us a handsome price for the Elf Prince’s wife. He said the Prince would think she’d died and would give up his own life in despair. We didn’t,” he glanced at the woman, then away, “didn’t think much about it. The Master was so obsessed with his hatred of Elves that even if it didn’t really make sense to us, we figured it made sense to him. So we did as he told us.”

“How did you take her from Ithillien?” Glorfindel’s voice was pleasant, but the man knew it was not a polite request for information.

“I wasn’t there when they took her. I heard they used some sort of poisoned arrow, though.”

“Aye, that’s what it was,” a different man called from the group. Rumil pulled him to his feet. “We were given arrows the Master said had been treated with a special Orcish poison given to him by his patron, that would make the woman and any Elves who may be with her, helpless. It was just our luck that she was out alone in those woods. She put up a fight; I’ll give her that. It took 3 of those arrows to bring her down. From what the Master had said, one was enough to bring down an Elf, and 2 should’ve killed a man. But she kept fighting. She killed 2 of our men and wounded at least 2 more before the poison began taking effect. It still took 5 of us to get her secured.” He shook his head and gave a rueful laugh, “It must be true that being with an Elf can make a woman strong. I’d have hated to tangle with her when she was fully healed.” The man’s tone held a grudging note of respect.

“And once you had her---secured?” Haldir demanded.

The second man continued, “We brought her straight here.” Realizing what the daunting Elf was asking, he shook his head. “No one touched her, not like that. We were to bring her to the Master and his patron untouched.”

“She was still weak when she got here,” the first man picked up the tale. “They had her tied pretty well, and said the poison was wearing off. She was awake, though, and I remember when they set her feet on the ground, she kicked one man’s chest clean in. Killed him on the spot. And that was while she was still groggy.”

Orophin, Elrohir and Elladan hid their smiles among themselves. Haldir and Rumil maintained their intimidating attitudes, but were secretly laughing. Glorfindel allowed himself a visible expression of amusement. He was beginning to understand why so many of his kinsmen were fond of Legolas’ wife.

“The Master was none too happy with our casualties. I remember him saying, ‘She’s just one woman!’ He was livid. He had her dragged to the tower and put in that cell, the one with the big room and all those chains hanging from the ceiling. She fought all the way and left many a man in a world of pain before we got her in there. And her hands were still bound behind her back.”

“We’d even tried the other poisoned arrows, but they had no effect on her. Her earlier wounds had already healed by the time she arrived here, less than 5 days after we got her.”

“What did Karandun want with her?” Haldir’s tone was conversational as he wiped his blade clean with what the men recognized as a piece of one of Lord Karandun’s banners.

“I told you---to punish her, punish the Elf Prince, get a reward, I don’t know. One of those things---all of them. All I know is, we are his men and we were bound to follow him.”

He looked at his fellow prisoners. They were watching him with resignation. They knew they were probably not going to survive this night. Especially if the Elven Prince decided to take his revenge on the men left alive in the keep. They were completely helpless and at the mercy of those they had helped their Lord to wrong so grievously.

“And so he wished to punish her. How?” Haldir was merciless. He would force every disgusting detail from them.

The man sighed and continued to damn himself, his comrades and his Lord.

“He had her stripped by the Orcs and hung from the chains so that she was … vulnerable, and then he whipped her. For hours, he would whip her as he told her of the sins of her Lord’s people; how she was betraying her race by giving herself to an Elf; how she was nothing more than a harlot who lay with …” He trailed off. Although the Elves watching him had neither moved nor changed expression, he was reluctant to continue. The Master had said vicious, hateful things to the woman. Things that were quite insulting. And he did not wish to insult these Elves who stood so casually cleaning the blood of his brethren from their swords with the standards of his Lord.

“He showed her no mercy.” He lowered his head.

“Did he abuse her in any other way?” Elladan had to know. It could have a bearing on how he treated her injuries. Besides, he would have to prepare Legolas for such a horror.

Realizing what the Elf was asking, the man shook his head. “No. He did not touch her---that way. Not that it wasn’t expected he would. I mean, she is a beautiful woman and we thought that was what he really wanted with her. But he seemed to find the touch of her flesh repulsive, and he forbade any of us to do so either. He said, …” Again, he was reluctant to continue. “He said he would not defile his flesh with one who had willingly lain with an Elf.”

A sense of relief swept through the Elves, only to be overshadowed by the man’s next words.

“The Other one, his patron, though. He would visit her immediately after the Master had finished with his---correction of the woman. He always wore some sort of cloak and kept his face covered. He would stay with her for a few hours or so, then have her taken down and carried to the cell. She was always unconscious when we got her and locked her in. He didn’t even allow his Orc rabble to remain in the room. And he always had whichever of us that were guarding the room, come in and take her down.”

“Did you witness the actions of this ‘patron’?” Glorfindel was not satisfied with how little they knew about Karandun’s mysterious benefactor.

The man shook his head. “Not me.” He looked at his fellow prisoners who also gave negative replies.

One man spoke up. “I do remember him saying, though, one time, something about ‘pain making the spirit sweeter’ or something like that.”

Glorfindel pinned the man with his gaze. “You are certain of his words?”

The man looked terrified. “Yes, I think so. I mean, no I’m not positive, but I believe that was what he said. I was closing the door to the room---the Other one would always make us leave and secure the door after the Master had finished---and I heard him say something like, ‘This will be such a treat. Pain makes the spirit so much sweeter.’”

Glorfindel seemed satisfied the man had told the truth. He turned to the first prisoner. “And you say afterward, when she was placed back in her cell she was unconscious? Yet wasn’t after Karandun had done with her?”

“That’s right. She took Lord Karandun’s beatings without so much as a whimper. When he left the room, she was still awake and had as scathing a tongue as I’ve ever heard. But after the Other left, she was pale, unconscious---a lot like she is now.” He nodded to where she lay. “The amazing thing is, the marks of the whip were always healed the next day. It looked sometimes like her flesh would fall from her body with the way he would whip her. But by the next morning, when she was dragged out again, her skin was just as smooth and unmarked as ever. And she would fight like a dragon.”

Elrohir spoke up. “Was she beaten today?” He did not bother to keep the disgust from his voice. “And did this mysterious ‘patron’ visit her?”

“The Master spent only a few hours with her this morning, but yes, she did receive her daily ‘correction’, as he calls it.” The man allowed his disgust to show. “Then he visited his patron and shut himself away. Then you came.”

“What happened to the Patron?” Haldir wanted to find this man, as did the others.

“He left shortly after speaking with Lord Karandun and spending some time with the woman.”

“Where did he go?”

“I don’t know, Master Elf. I wish I did.” Again, he looked to where Alex lay, so pale. “Truly, I do.”

The Elves gathered near Alex’s pallet, and spoke in tones low enough the men could not hear them, but Elven hearing easily understood.

“I do not like this unknown man,” Glorfindel voiced the thorn that had been irritating them all since the prisoners had begun their tale.

“He seems to be the one behind this. I believe he used Karandun’s hatred of Elves in general, Legolas in particular, to bring this to pass. I do not like that he told Karandun he ‘protected’ the northern borders.” Haldir’s mind was turning over possibilities. He was sure Karandun was as much a pawn as his men.

“But why? And who is he?” Elladan glanced at his patient. “And what did he do to her? I have never heard of,” he paused, “rape causing this sort of damage.”

“The appropriate question may be, what is he?” Glorfindel shook his head. “He obviously has Orcs under his command. We need to know more about him. Perhaps Lady Alexandra could tell us more when she recovers.”

“She needs her husband,” Elrohir said. “She is very weak and requires his strength.”

“Where is Legolas?” Orophin asked. “He has been gone much longer than the rest of you.”

The Elves exchanged looks. “He was with me and we parted when I took the north tower. He was headed toward the south tower.” Glorfindel started to the door but stopped when it opened and Legolas entered.

His white knives were red and there were streaks of blood sprayed across his hair and face. Although his expression appeared impassive, a closer look revealed cold fury in his eyes.

“Where is my wife?” His voice was steely.

“She sleeps, Legolas.” Elladan wanted to prepare his friend, but there was no time as the Prince strode quickly across the room and knelt beside her. He dropped his knives and took her hand in both of his. His friends stayed back, but noticed the blood that smeared onto her pale flesh from her husband’s grasp.

Legolas looked down upon Alex’s wan features. He had failed her. He had left her unprotected and now she had suffered for his lapse. Karandun had always hated him and his people. But he’d thought the man’s quarrel was with him, with Elves; not with his mortal wife.

His anger and despair were too great even for the tears he longed to shed. “I am so sorry, my love,” he whispered. “Please, forgive me. Please, Alex, come back to me. I swear, I will never leave you alone again.” He pressed her seemingly lifeless hand to his lips, then to his forehead as he bowed his head and sent a silent plea to the Valar. “Spare her, please. Take my life if you must, but do not take her---she has but a little time in Arda. Do not shorten it because of my failures.”

The grief emanating from their friend was palpable, affecting them all. Haldir walked over and put his hand on Legolas’ shoulder in wordless comfort. The Prince did not look up but Haldir could feel his thanks. Elladan joined them and knelt beside Legolas.

“She has suffered some maltreatment, but, physically, I have found nothing to cause permanent damage. She was beaten,” at this, Legolas gave him a sharp look. Elladan took a deep breath and continued. “She was beaten but she seems to heal quickly. There are nearly invisible marks---.” Legolas pulled the covering cloak away and saw the fading signs of her terrible torture covering the tops of her creamy breasts and a low sound of horror escaped his throat.

“He beat her all over?” His voice was tight.

Elladan lowered his head. “Yes.”

“Did he rape my wife?”

“Not according to his men. His hatred for all things Elvish spared her from that. He thought her unworthy of his touch.”

Legolas stood and looked down to where she slept. “I am sorry I did not make his death more unpleasant.” Turning, he picked up a discarded piece of one of the banners the others had been using and began cleaning the blood from his knives.

“Karandun is dead?” Legolas nodded in response to Rumil’s question. “Good.”

“Legolas, I must speak with you.” He turned to Elrohir as he came to stand beside his brother.

“Then speak, my friend.”

“Karandun did not rape her, but there was another.” He paused as Legolas digested this new information.

“This ‘other’. He …?” The Prince’s voice was surprisingly calm.

“We do not know. But he spent time with her after … Karandun had done with her. And when this other one left her, she was unconscious.”

Legolas nodded slowly. The men in the room did not know what was being said, but suspected the Elf was being told the information they had provided. They waited for the inevitable explosion of rage, but it never came. When he turned, his gaze swept over the prisoners and they gave a collective shudder. Although he was unbearably beautiful, as were all the Elves they had seen, the fine spray of blood that stained his countenance gave him an almost demonic appearance. They had never seen such cold fury.

Most Men viewed Elves either as distant, beautiful creatures who were delicate and ethereal, far above worldly concerns and treating Men with vaguely benevolent tolerance; or as arrogant beings, who could not be trusted to think about the concerns of Men. In either case they did not think of Elves as merciless, savage and dangerous. But these Men were learning differently.

Glorfindel joined the twins. “One of these Men said he remembered this other as saying something about her sweet spirit. I do not know for sure, but I believe he may have taken part of her soul, fed off of her pain. I do not think he is a Man. Once your Lady can speak, we should learn more.”

Haldir added, “He had convinced Karandun there was no need to patrol the northern border. This Patron supposedly had them secured---with his Orcs, do you suppose?”

Legolas turned to Orophin. “Have Saelbeth send riders south to Aragorn. Tell him Karandun left the borders to the mercy of some unknown creature who is apparently in league with darkness. Also, if they can be spared, have another 200 warriors sent to patrol the north.” Orophin nodded his understanding and called one of the Lieutenants over to pass on the orders.

“Elladan, are there men of the north you can call upon to give us eyes in the area?”

His friend nodded. “I will send word immediately.” He called one of his warriors and gave detailed instructions and messages to pass along to the Dunedain friends.

The Prince turned back to the woman he loved and his fury grew simply because he felt so helpless.

“Legolas, she is very weak. Through your bond, you can give her your strength upon which to draw.” Elrohir touched his friend on the arm. “We have seen how torment can damage a soul. When our mother was taken, our father did everything he could to heal her. The only thing that helped ease her spirit was his strength.”

Looking at his wife---the woman who had been his companion at arms and in adventure during these past few years---now weak and in pain, Legolas again felt intense sorrow. But, he knew, he would have to fight his personal agony and be strong for her. Using the clean water handed to him by Rumil, he washed the blood from his face and hands, then seated himself next to her and pulled her into his arms, holding her close, whispering words of love and encouragement. He fought to keep any fears from his mind in order to project to her strength and confidence.

Rumil, Haldir, Orophin and Elladan left to make sure the rest of the keep was subdued and to check on the other Elves who were securing the grounds. Elrohir and Glorfindel stood together at the other end of the room where they could keep an eye on the prisoners, and discussed their options.

“Do you think Legolas will execute the prisoners?” Glorfindel knew it was what he would do. But he was not the Prince of Mirkwood and Lord of the Ithillien Elves. As the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower, had it been his wife, he would likely have ordered every man in the keep killed, had the building razed, the wells spoiled and the ground laced with poison so nothing and no one could ever dwell in this place again. But Prince Legolas had a different outlook, counting among his closest friends Men and a Dwarf. Perhaps he was inclined to mercy.

Elrohir shook his head. “I know not what is in his mind. I believe he would, but his thoughts are centered on Alexandra. Once he gets beyond that, no one can tell what course he will choose.”

As if understanding their Elvish words, one of the prisoners spoke.

“Is that the Lady’s husband?” The Elves turned to the speaker. He flinched under their hard gaze, and Elrohir took pity on him. He was so very young.

“Yes, that is Prince Legolas.”

The young man—barely more than a boy, looked over to where the Elf held his Lady. Elrohir and Glorfindel were surprised to see tears in the boy’s eyes.

“I wish Lord Karandun had never done this thing. I don’t know why he hates Elves so much, but whatever quarrel he had with your kind, it didn’t justify punishing her. I am bound to serve him, as was my father and his father before him, back throughout my line. But I feel as though I have been a part of something terrible. Even though I didn’t participate in her capture or her punishment, I did nothing to stop it. Jacon, he was going to try to help her, but I suppose he didn’t make it.”

“I believe your comrade---Jacon?---did try to help her.” Remembering the body outside the Lady’s cell, Glorfindel deduced it was the unlucky man. “He died at the hand of Karandun while trying to free her.”

The young man hung his head. “He was a decent sort, Jacon was. Sometimes he and I would bring her water and what food we could hide so the others wouldn’t see. The Master had forbidden her to have food or drink. I was scared of getting caught, but Jacon said, we’ve both been hungry and thirsty before and just couldn’t let her go without.”

Elrohir allowed his gaze to soften somewhat. “I am sure Lady Alexandra was grateful for your kindness.”

“Indeed, she mourned the loss of your friend,” Glorfindel added.

The young man was silent for a moment, then asked, “Is the Prince going to kill us now?”

“We do not know what his will may be,” Glorfindel said quietly, aware the other prisoners had been listening to their exchange and now strained to hear the answer to the question they all pondered.

“Well, for my part, I don’t want to die---I am afraid it will hurt---but it is nothing more than what we deserve.” Both Elves felt compassion for the young mortal.

“Your Lord is already dead at the hands of Prince Legolas,” Elrohir told him. “And I promise, if he decides your lives are forfeit, I will assure your death is quick and painless.”

“Thank you, Master Elf.” The young man gave him a tremulous smile, then bowed his head, lost in thoughts of impending death.

Their companions returned, the keep having been swept from top to bottom and any pockets of resistance dealt with swiftly.

“There is a group of a dozen prisoners in the main courtyard,” said Orophin, as he cleaned his sword and put it away. “Saelbeth says they told them pretty much the same story as these men. One thing he says they learned is this patron of Karandun’s did not eat nor drink. And before Lady Alexandra was brought here, he would send his Orcs to raid surrounding villages and bring back prisoners whom he would then have them torture, then would visit them as he did her.”

“What happened to those prisoners?” Glorfindel asked.

Elladan and Elrohir exchanged knowing looks as Rumil answered. “They were given to the Orcs for food.”

The Elves felt nothing but disgust. This being was clearly not one to be discounted lightly. He was obviously quite ruthless, and much smarter than Karandun. After all, he had escaped before the Elves arrived.

The twins went over to Legolas and Alexandra. She seemed to be resting easier than before and her color had improved. Legolas’ held her on his lap and her head rested against his shoulder. He was singing a Elvish lullaby as he stroked her hair.

Elladan noted her breathing was deeper and much smoother than when he’d last seen her. Looking at his friend, he could see the strain in Legolas’ eyes.

“She is doing better, Legolas,” he said softly. “How are you faring?”

“I am well, thank you. I will not leave her again, Elladan. I cannot.” He looked from one to the other. “I never understood how your father felt after your mother was … taken. Now, I can only admire Lord Elrond’s strength. It is so difficult not to give in to the rage and despair that are at war within me.”

Elrohir crouched down and took Alex’s hand. He smiled at Legolas. “You will not yield, my friend, because it is not in you to do so. You must remain strong for your Lady. Now, we have learned more about the one we believe to have been behind this nefarious plot.”

The others came over and related the information they had gathered from the prisoners. When the tales were complete, Glorfindel concluded, “When the Lady awakens, she can probably give us most of the rest of the pieces of this puzzle.”

As if in response to his words, Alex stirred against Legolas’ chest. Her eyes opened and she blinked, trying to focus them. Tilting her head, she met the worried gaze of her husband and gave a weak smile.

“I wondered when you’d get here,” she murmured.

“You left without me,” he replied and kissed her tenderly.

The other Elves suddenly found the décor of the hall to be of the utmost interest. After several moments, Haldir finally said, “We are all quite happy to see you reunited, but we should probably be contemplating what comes next.” A knowing glance from Orophin caused him to roll his eyes and add, “Regarding the disposition of this keep and our pursuit of the mastermind … ?”

“Yes, my lady. I do not wish to be intrusive, but what can you tell us of the one who was Karandun’s patron?” Glorfindel wished to be sensitive to her circumstance, but the question was of great interest.

Surprisingly, she did not blush nor look in any way uncomfortable discussing her recent experience. He surmised the stories of her having been a warrior and leader in her own land were indeed true. Sitting up, but still within her husband’s embrace, she appeared to collect her thoughts.

“I never saw him. He would stay hidden in his cloak, and blew out the candles so the room was dark. I got the impression he could see without difficulty in the dark because he would describe my wounds to me in great detail, as if it gave him pleasure to try and frighten or disgust me. He would talk about the things he was going to do to me, and to you, my love. They were pretty raw and quite explicit.”

Legolas’ jaw tightened at his wife’s words, but he said nothing. The others were also repulsed by the creature’s actions, but remained quiet as well.

She continued. “Sometimes he would scratch his nails over where the lashes had cut me.” She gave a short laugh. “He got quite a surprise the first time my blood touched his skin.” Glorfindel and most of the others did not understand her bitter humor, but Legolas and Orophin exchanged knowing glances. This did not escape Haldir who made a mental note to speak to Orophin privately.

“Anyway,” Alex went on, “he tried to make sure any pain I felt continued or worsened. He said, ‘Pain makes the spirit sweeter.’ Or something like that.” The Elves noted this statement confirmed what the prisoner had told them. “And then he---.” For the first time, she hesitated. Sensing this part of the story was more painful than the previous portion, Legolas tightened his grip and kissed her cheek.

Taking a steadying breath, she completed her thought. “He took something from me. I could feel it, like he reached into me and tried to get into my mind. I kept it sealed against him and that seemed to make him angry, so he took something. It hurt so much. I felt like I was being plundered in my soul, like he forced his way into me and took all the energy I had. I felt so weak afterward. I could barely breathe. I vaguely remember being taken down and carried back to my cell. Then I would dream these horrid dreams, but I can’t remember what they were.” Legolas knew his wife well enough to know she did indeed remember her dreams, but was reluctant to speak of them.

Silence filled the room. The prisoners could not understand the Elvish tongue, but the sound of her voice was eloquent. For their part, the Elves were putting together the information they had gleaned from their captives with what Alex was telling them. Glorfindel finally spoke, trying to be circumspect and leave the lady her dignity.

“Did he physically take it? Did he need to touch you to do it?” He hated having to ask, but the answer could prove a crucial detail.

Legolas gave him a hard look, but Alex only frowned in concentration. “I think so. But it felt odd. Like … like he wasn’t there. It … he---it was like he reached into me, right in my stomach. But there was no mark, no wound.” She kept her voice calm and her gaze steady, focusing on Glorfindel. “But it was like he only did it to establish a physical connection. Then I would feel this incredible pain that started where he … was, and it spread all over my body. Karandun’s beatings were nothing compared to that pain. It felt like I was being stabbed through every part of my body with flaming swords. When I cried out, he laughed and it sounded as if he were having an orgasm.” A slight shudder was her only sign of emotion, and Legolas’ mouth hardened as he fought to suppress his rage. “And then he would pull out of me, ripping away a part of me. After that, I would pass out from exhaustion.”

Glorfindel hated to push her, but hey needed to know. “Did he say anything else to you? Anything to give a clue to his nature?”

Alex thought a moment. “I remember once, he made mention of ‘this body’, referring to himself, like it wasn’t his. And his voice was not normal---like I was hearing more than one person speaking at the same time. If you want to know what I think,” the soldier asserted itself, “I believe he is some kind of entity that feeds on the energy of others. Possibly, he has no physical body as we know it, and he took over the one he used here in order to deal with Karandun and his men. That may be why he didn’t let others see him---what if the body he was using had begun to decompose? Well, he didn’t stink, so maybe he keeps it alive somehow, but it would probably look odd to others, what with him taking in no nourishment or hydration. He may appear as a puppet or something similar. I don’t know,” she sighed, “it’s just an opinion.”

But one that fitted closely with Glorfindel’s suspicions. He had to admit he was surprised at her words. She did not seem shocked by the idea of a being that stole souls to live. The way she put it sounded somewhat strange to him, but the essential issue was the same.

“We must track him. Did he ever give his name?” Haldir hoped Alexandra would remember it.

She shook her head. “I can’t remember what it was. He mentioned a name, but I don’t know if it was his name or whose. It sounded like one of the Three Kings, I think.”

This statement puzzled the Elves. Elladan, meanwhile, turned to the prisoners and asked the same of them.

Those present responded in the negative. “Lord Karandun only called him, Master, Patron or Great One,” one of the soldiers recalled. The others agreed those were the only names they had heard for the mysterious patron. Orophin said Saelbeth had been unable to find out the name from his prisoners either.

Alex kept muttering names to herself in an attempt to remember. “Sounded like one of them. Balthazaar? No. What were the other two names? Sha---no, Caspar---that’s not it. Mordred? No, but getting close. Mendor, Melvia, Melchior---that’s it.” She looked at them. “It sounded like Melchior, but that wasn’t it exactly.”

Horror was slowly dawning on the Elves. Rumil was the first to find his voice.

“Could it have been, Melkor, my lady?”

“Yes, that’s it. He said it like it would mean something to me, but I’d never heard of him. That seemed to make him angry.” She laughed bitterly.

“Sweet Eru! It cannot be Melkor returned!” Legolas held her tightly. “Oh my love. You are fortunate to have survived, if this was the being you encountered.”

“Who’s Melkor?”

“He is one of the Valar which rebelled against Illuvatar. He swore to bring the downfall of Arda. He has been twice defeated and was cast out of Arda, to which he was never to return until the ending of the world. “ Elrohir was amazed Alexandra had never heard of this evil creature.

“His other name is Morgoth,” Legolas reminded her.

“Oh. He’s kind of like your version of Satan.” She did not seem overly concerned.

“I do not know who ‘Satan’ is, but Melkor will destroy the world if given the chance.” Glorfindel knelt so he was on eye level with her. “Are you certain, that was his name?”

“I told you,” she sighed. “I am not sure if it was his name, but I heard him mention it more than once. He seemed to be referring to himself, but I was, quite frankly, in a lot of pain and could have gotten confused.”

Glorfindel gave a slight bow. “Forgive me, lady. I mean no disrespect.”

Alex smiled and reached out to touch his hand lightly. “I know you don’t. And I never thanked you for freeing me and bringing me back to my husband. I am eternally grateful.”

“It was my honor, my lady.” The Elf Lord smiled and stood. “And now, Legolas, what do you think the best course of action?”

“As Haldir said, we must track this creature. If he travels with Orcs, it will be less difficult than I had first thought.”

“And the prisoners and the keep?” Orophin asked.

Legolas stood, lifting Alex to her feet. She leaned against him for a moment, then straightened and stood on her own. Keeping an arm around her waist he surveyed the sorry-looking group of men on the floor of the Hall.

“Bring them to the courtyard with their brethren. I shall have a decision before we depart this place.”

*
The brothers of Lorien moved the prisoners out of the hall quickly, accompanied by Glorfindel. Elladan and Elrohir gathered their healing supplies and followed. Alone for the first time since being reunited, Legolas and Alex allowed themselves the kiss for which they had been yearning. Legolas felt as though he would never be able to let her out of his embrace. For her part, Alex did not want him to. She clung to him as her lifeline.

After collapsing into Glorfindel’s arms, she had sunk into the exhausted sleep she’d had since coming to this awful place. Her dreams were disturbing, frightening and repulsive. In it, the nameless, faceless being who had ripped the life from her, mocked her, telling her how his plans were falling into place. The Elf would not be able to call upon his great friends Aragorn and Eomer, as the Men were occupied by the “little war” he had arranged. He had known Legolas would come after her. In fact, he had counted on it. The fact that he brought such powerful Elves as Haldir, Orophin, Rumil, Saelbeth, Elladan and Elrohir with him was a bonus. He seemed especially delighted that Glorfindel had accompanied them. “Let them pursue me,” he teased, “I have not fed upon Elf-spirit in a very long time. And Elf-flesh will be a treat of a different sort for my pets.”

Visions of her husband and his friends, his kin, being tortured far worse than she had been, filled her nightmares. She had been the bait, the one thing Legolas could not resist. Believing she had led her husband and the others to their doom, she had sunk deeper into the depths of despair, wishing only to die so they would be free to return to their homes.

But in the midst of the pain and darkness, she had felt her bond with her husband. It had glowed like a beacon and called her from her prison. She craved his presence so much, that when Legolas had offered her his strength and their bond, she had grabbed hold and clung to it in desperation. Eventually, she had felt the menacing presence retreat and began to regain some strength. Soon, her rest was peaceful and she could hear Legolas’ voice talking to her, singing to her, coaxing her back into the world.

Finally ending their kiss, they looked into each other’s eyes. No words were needed. Each knew the other was the most important thing in their lives.

“Karandun?” she asked.

Legolas thought back to his confrontation with the traitorous lord. He’d found him sitting by the fire in what were obviously his personal quarters. The man did not even look up when he’d entered the room. He could have slit his throat without him ever knowing of Legolas’ presence. But the Elf had to look at least once into the eyes of the turncoat who had brought such pain to his wife and to him.

He moved into Karandun’s line of sight. The man took a sip of wine and looked up into the eyes of the creature who would kill him.

“So, you came for your whore.” He gave a bitter laugh. “I had been led to believe you would die from despair if she were taken from you.”

“A lie,” Legolas replied coolly.

“I suppose you’ll find her eventually. She was barely alive when I saw her last, although after he visits …” his voice trailed off and Legolas was confused by his words.

“He told me everything would be taken care of. He would get his vengeance, I would get mine, and my people would be safe. See, Gondor doesn’t know who her true enemies are. We must be strong, strike first. If we wait to be attacked, it will be too late. He knew that.”

“Who?” Legolas’ puzzlement grew. Karandun seemed not to hear him.

“But, I fear, I will not be able to go to the halls of my fathers without shame. I should have seen this coming. I should have fallen in battle.” He turned around and the Elf saw madness in the eyes of the man. “But, I will settle for you.” He picked up his sword. Legolas could have drawn his bow and killed the man in a split second. But he knew Karandun was no match for him, so he drew his knives in order to hopefully deter the man until he learned more about this strange and convoluted episode.

“What drove you to betray your country and your king?” he asked as Karandun moved toward him.

“You are mistaken, Elf. I tried to save my country.” He swung and Legolas easily deflected his blow.

“This is folly. Put down your weapon. Aragorn will be merciful.” He was mystified by Karandun’s actions and words.

“I need not the king’s mercy!” the traitor screamed. He swung wildly, Legolas blocking him without effort.

Karandun hacked blindly for a few moments, then suddenly stopped. The Elf saw a flicker of something in his eyes, behind the madness---something akin to terror and resignation. Then, a look of cunning crept over his face.

“Would you like to know how your slut has suffered these past few days?”

Legolas kept his anger at bay and said nothing.

“She has a fine body. I am sure you have spent many nights rutting with abandon. She seems to be able to take a lot of punishment. That comes in handy when giving oneself to an Elf, doesn’t it?” Karandun laughed, an almost hysterical sound. Then, his voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “The Orc have been enjoying her tremendously.” His mouth curved into a malicious smile and he moved closer to Legolas, as if heedless of the simmering rage in the Elven Prince.

“They fair tore her apart---not even years spent in the bed of a potent Elf Lord could prepare her for the loving attentions of a troop of Orc.” He laughed softly. “She died believing you had abandoned her.”

His anger boiled over and with skill so swift the mortal had no time to register the movement, Legolas brought both knives up across his body and, with a scissor-like motion, severed Karandun’s head from his body.

The man’s body remained on its feet for a moment after his head had tumbled to the floor. Legolas was vaguely aware of warmth across his face and pouring over his hands as Karandun’s heart continued to cause blood to gush from his neck, even as the body crumpled.

For a moment, the Elf remained motionless. His eyes looked at the bloody floor, but did not register anything. He was turned inward, seeking Alex. The bond was still there. It was weak, but it was there. Karandun had lied---she was not dead. In the back of his mind, he wondered if the man had deliberately provoked him, but ignored the idea as he was consumed with the need to find his wife. Of all the things Karandun had taunted him with, the thought of her tormented somewhere in this place, thinking he had failed to come for her, tore at his soul the most. Without another glance at the pieces of the man’s body, Legolas swept out of the room, anxious to know if his friends had any word of Alex.

“Legolas?” He was brought back to the present by Alex’s voice. “Did you find Karandun?”

“He did not survive the taking of the keep,” he said, pulling her close.

“Good,” she whispered against his shoulder.

“Are you ready, my heart?” Legolas asked with a smile.

She nodded. “As long as you are beside me, I am ready for anything.”

They walked to the courtyard hand in hand. She could feel her strength returning. Along the way, he asked, “What do you think I should do with the men left here?”

“Do you really want to know what I would do?” He nodded.

“Show them mercy. They were bound to Karandun as all subjects are bound to their Lord. While they did attack me and take me from our home, they were doing so under his orders. They did not abuse me when they had the chance. While they did not stop his punishment of me, neither did any of them beat me or touch me inappropriately. Some of them even offered kindnesses to me---food, water, clothing---even when Karandun had specifically forbidden it. Besides, benevolence can gain more friends than punishment.”

Her words surprised them both. Her personal demon had been awakened by the creature who tormented her dreams, but it was resting; much of her energy had been taken from her, and she did not have the strength to unleash the darkness. Plus, a voice seemed to tell her to wait---save her inner beast for when it would be needed. For now, mercy was the wisest course. She wasn’t sure, but that voice sounded strangely like Galadriel.

Legolas nodded thoughtfully. “Your words are wise, my wife. I am personally inclined to kill them all. They took you from me, assisted in your torture, and supported Karandun’s cause against us. They stood by while this other creature violated you---I do not think I can ever forgive them that. But, as you were the one who suffered here, I will heed your advice.”

“Of course,” he added with a distinctly wicked smile, “I will make them suffer a little more before ending their misery.”

Before she could speak, they had reached the head of the stairs leading into the courtyard. She was surprised at the number of Elves present. She had thought the party in the hall was more than adequate for such a thing as finding her. However, a small army of Elves was ranged about the keep. Apparently, Legolas had meant business when he came after her captors. She idly wondered how many he had left with Aragorn. Aware of appearances, she withdrew her hands from Legolas’ and clasped them demurely in front of her. Even after all this time, she still felt like she was playing a role in some ancient drama when she assumed the attitude of modest wife. Truth be told, she’d much rather be down with the troops, getting bloody, destroying things, and having a grand old time.

Within a flash, Legolas went from appearing as her devoted husband to the demeanor of an angry Elven Prince. The transformation never ceased to enthrall her, no matter how many times she witnessed it. The Elves in the keep turned their respectful attention to their leader while the men seemed to shrink under his coldly arrogant gaze.

Haldir approached them. “These are all of the survivors, Lord Legolas.”

Legolas nodded and surveyed the pitiful remains of Karandun’s once formidable force. Twenty-two men, out of over 500. Not one Elf had been lost in the attack on the keep. Their leader had given the men a false sense of security, letting them believe they were invincible out here in the wilds, and that, believing his wife to have died, Legolas would have wallowed in despair until he gave up his life. The Men had become lulled by their leader’s words and the abundance of wine and food, and so had lapsed in their vigilance. They were completely unprepared for the Elves to attack so swiftly and so ruthlessly. Arrows fired by sure-sighted Elven archers had cut down over 200 men within the first few moments of the attack. Another 100 had fallen in the second wave. Even though they knew they were under attack, the men were no match for the stealth of the Eldar, who managed to kill many more of them before the mortals even knew anyone had entered the keep. From then on, it had been hand-to-hand fighting through the keep and grounds. The Elves won so easily, it was hardly a contest. Some of the men had fought hard, but the superior strength and agility of their foe meant their efforts were in vain.

As he let the silence drag on, the tension increased to an almost intolerable level among the survivors. Finally, Legolas spoke.

“You are all that remains of the followers of Karandun. Your Lord is dead by my hand. Your brethren are dead because of the actions of your Lord. You have committed a great wrong against my people, my wife and against me. Elven patience is great. But it has limits. And mine has ended.”

A shudder ran through the men. Legolas’ voice was strong and cold. He sounded like what one would imagine a great angered Elven Prince would sound like. He was indeed recognizable as the son of the High King Thranduil of the Great Greenwood, a descendant of mighty Elf Lords, and the leader of an Elven army. They prepared to face their deaths which, it sounded, Prince Legolas would make quite unpleasant, painful, and cruel.

“You deserve nothing less than death for what you have done. Although you followed your Lord, his sin does not wipe any blame from you. Each of you is responsible for his own choices and his own actions. Because of you, my wife was taken from our home, poisoned with Orc malice, dishonored, abused and tortured by your Lord and his friend. You trespassed upon my lands, broke the sanctity of my home, and disrupted the peace of my people. You betrayed your sovereign Lord by abandoning your defense of the northern borders. Because of your actions, I was forced to pursue you at the cost of my support for your King, Elessar, in his campaign against the Eastern Alliance. All of these things, and more, do you have to answer for. Believe me when I say your brothers-in-arms who lie fallen around you got the better part of this bargain.”

The men knew they were doomed. The Elves would slaughter them in their cool, efficient way. Their bodies would be left to rot and be offal for the wild things that lurked in the mountains surrounding the keep. Their families would never know their fate. Some of them began to mutter prayers to the Valar for mercy while others felt, with horror, tears of despair welling up. Only one, the young boy Elrohir and Glorfindel had spoken with, had hope. The Elf Lord had promised him a quick and painless death.

“You are fortunate, however, that my heart has been turned from vengeance. Where I would have seen you all dead, I now give you your freedom.” The cries of joy were heartfelt and Legolas resisted the urge to smile. When they died down, he continued. “However, your freedom comes with a price. You will never raise up a hand against another Elf, or against any friend of the Elves. You will go to your homes, love your wives and children, and remain loyal only to your anointed King. Do you think you can live with these terms?”

A chorus of “Aye, my Lord,” followed his question. With a nod to his lieutenants to free the prisoners, he turned to Haldir.

“Burn the keep and all that is within. Fill in the wells with debris. Make the men do it.” He looked around at the accursed structure. “I will leave nothing living in this place.”

Haldir gave a nod of acknowledgement then called a group of Elven soldiers over to relay the orders.

Several of the men approached Legolas and Alex as they started for the horses.

“Thank you, Mighty Prince, for your mercy,” one of the men said, bowing low.

Legolas gazed at him dispassionately. “It is not my mercy you should thank, but that of the Valar and of my wife. It was she who asked for leniency on your behalf.”

The men glanced at Alex with shame in their eyes. They mumbled their thanks and begged her forgiveness before moving away. Only a young man lingered behind. Legolas was about to tell him to leave them be, when he spoke.

“I am pleased to see you well, my lady. Jacon had told me he was going to try to take you some clothes this evening, and some water.”

Alex examined the boy closely. “I know you. You and Jacon were always kind to me. I never got to thank you for all that you did. You know,” her face shadowed, “Karandun killed him when he discovered Jacon was trying to help me escape.”

“Yes, my lady. The other Elf there,” he nodded toward Glorfindel, “told me. I only wish I had gone with him. With help, he might could’ve gotten you out and we could have avoided all of this.” He looked around sadly at the multitude of lifeless bodies.

Legolas’ heart was touched. “What is your name, boy?”

Bowing, he answered, “Hule’, my lord.”

Legolas reached out and clasped the boy on the shoulder. “Thank you for all you did for my wife, Hule’. Go back to your home and live quietly. There is more to life than war.”

The boy gave a shy smile. “I will try, my lord. But, if you ever need anyone to help you fight, then, you call on me. I live in the village of Warity. I owe you my life. I owe you more than I can ever repay.” He gave another bow of respect, then went to help the others destroy the keep.

Turning to Alex, Legolas gave a small smile. “It eases my heart a bit to know you did have some friends while you were here.”

“Yes. It seems only Karandun and that other person---thing---whatever, had it in for me.” She gripped his arm. “But Legolas, he was after you as well. He speaks to me in my dreams and I don’t know if it’s really him or if I’m just remembering things he said while he was---doing whatever it was he did to me.”

Taking her arm, Legolas began leading her to where the horses were kept. “We will discuss it when we get out of this place and make camp. It will be dawn soon. Orophin and Rumil have sent out scouts to find the trail this creature took when he left here. We will camp down by a stream that runs near here. You can tell me there.”

She sighed. He was still in what she called Elf Prince Mode. She could try to argue, but she knew he would only make her feel foolish simply because he would be so calm and reasonable, and would still do as he pleased.

As they made their way through the charnel house that was once the great courtyard of the keep, she stopped and picked up a sword where it had fallen. It was a sturdy, sharp instrument. It was not elegant, like the ones of Elven design, but it would kill just the same. Legolas opened his mouth to protest, but closed it wordlessly. His wife was a warrior and he could not deny her arms. She found a scabbard and pulled it off the body of its former owner. Securing them about her waist she smiled at her husband and they continued on their way.

“What about the horses?” She turned back to where flames were beginning to light up the gray sky of the early dawn.

“They have been freed.” He looked at her, aghast. “Surely, you do not think we would leave them deliberately to die …!”

“No, my husband. I know you would not.” She sighed. “I just thought I could get one for myself to ride rather than force you to carry me on your horse.”

“I would have you with me always, my sweet,” he replied, kissing her lightly on her forehead. “Ah,” he called. “You have but to wish it and it is so.”

She turned to follow his gaze as Saelbeth approached leading a lively black horse.

“I believe this one should suit you, my lady.” The blonde Elf handed her the reigns with a smile.

“Why thank you. He looks strong and happy.” Saelbeth bowed slightly and turned to Legolas.

“The keep is finished and the wells are filled. The men have been released---without any weapons, and told to go to their homes, but to stay away from our party. If any of them are caught following us, they will be killed.” He added with a glint of humor, “Haldir’s own touch.”

Legolas smiled. “It should be enough deterrent. Haldir is a master of intimidation.”

*
They gathered the horses and rode for most of the day until they reached the water where, with usual Elven efficiency, a camp was set up within the hour. Legolas and the others had been concerned that Alex would not be able to make the ride, but she mounted her new horse and remained in the fore without complaint.

There was no conversation on the road, as Elves at war typically move in silence. Fortunately, Alex was accustomed to maintaining quiet and it didn’t bother her as it did many humans. For them, the silence was unnatural.

Once their tent had been set up, the others gave Legolas and Alex some time alone. He had water brought and, before removing his armor, undressed her and gently bathed her. He could no longer see the marks of the whip. Had he not seen them earlier, he would not have known of them. The memory of the fine marks covering her fair, smooth skin brought back the anger he had struggled to suppress. He wanted revenge against those who had brought this torment to his wife, and began to regret his decision to let the prisoners go.

Alex reclined against her husband and relished the feel of the cool water on her skin, but even more, the feel of her husband’s chest against her back and his arms around her, supporting her, wiping away the memories of the lash tearing into her flesh. Now that they were alone, she felt the tears begin to well as the utter relief of being safe with her beloved finally settled in.

Legolas wrapped her in his cloak and held her as she buried her face against his chest and cried. He stroked her hair and kissed her, tasting the salt of her tears. He did not speak, but, as in the hall of the keep, allowed his strength and love to pour into her. There were so many questions he yearned to ask, but could not do so until she was ready. His wife was incredibly strong, but even she had her limits.

After an indeterminate length of time, her tears subsided and she gave him a small smile.

“How do you feel, my love?”

“Better, now that we’re together. But Legolas, there are things I must tell you. You cannot go after this person---thing. It’s what he wants.”

“Then he is a fool.” Legolas’ anger made him almost flippant.

“Listen to me.” Her voice took on a hard edge. Years of progressive command experience served her well. “He used me as bait. He used Karandun’s hatred of Elves in general, you in particular, to get to me. He used me because he knew I was an easier target and the one thing you could not resist. He wants you, Legolas. He would tell me about the things he was going to do to you, and the reason he wants you has something to do with your father. He is his ultimate target.”

Legolas was silent.

She put her hand against his cheek and looked into his eyes. “He would tell me about what he wished to do to you as he drained me. And the images he conjured were worse than anything he could do to my body. He comes to me in that unnatural sleep after his feedings and gives me nightmares, showing me what he’s going to do to you. And last night, what he was going to do to the rest. You cannot take this army after him. He wants them as well.”

The pain in her voice tore at his heart. Her words intensified his guilt. He was the cause of her agony.

“Can you tell these things to the others? You do not have to, but they will need to know so many things.”

She took a deep breath and nodded. “I must warn you, though, it’s not pleasant. It may be hurtful for you.”

He held her face and looked into her eyes. “There is no pain I could suffer that would be of significance when compared to yours.” He kissed her, then rose to call his Captains. As he moved toward the opening, she called out.

“Do you mean for your friends to see me naked, my lord?”

He spun around and his expression was almost comical. He grabbed his pack and pulled out an undertunic and leggings. “Forgive me, Alex, I …”

Laughing, she took the clothes and began pulling them on. “It’s alright, Legolas.” She kissed his cheek and started putting on some boots. It felt good to wear clean clothes. She was surprised at how much better she felt now that she was with her people---. She was taken aback. She hadn’t realized how much she had assimilated into the Elven culture. She was reminded of one of the teachings of the old religions that her family had followed; it described the bond she and Legolas shared perfectly: “Whither thou goest, I will go also; thy people shall be my people, and thy God, my God.”

The twins, Haldir and his brothers, Saelbeth and Glorfindel filled the tent, which was small out of necessity, as Elves always traveled light. Alex was thankful the Eldar didn’t suffer from body odor.

Orophin gave her a friendly smile and Saelbeth said, “You look refreshed, my lady.” She thanked him and greeted the others warmly, expressing her gratitude for their coming to her rescue.

“I add my thanks to those of my wife. She has much to tell us and I need your counsel.”

“You know by now, I was not the main target of this plot,” she began. “This mysterious patron used Karandun to take me. He was told that if he took me, it would cause Legolas to give in to despair and die. He thought it would be a fitting revenge.”

”Why was he so easy to manipulate?” asked Haldir. “Karandun has always been a bit wild, but not insane. How could he believe such lies?”

“His hatred of Elves,” she said, simply. “From things he would scream at me, I gather there was an ancestor whose wife left him because,” she gave a sarcastic chuckle, “he beat her. Apparently, she found shelter and protection from an Elf. When his ancestor tried to get her back, he fought the Elf and was killed. So, he believed an Elf stole his ancestor’s wife and murdered her husband. He saw Legolas as being a usurper of Men in the King’s counsel, and I was a woman who betrayed my race by marrying an Elf.

“But Karandun was just a tool to get me here because he knew Legolas would come for me. And his patron wants Legolas.”

”Then, why did he not stay? I am here.” Legolas was struggling to keep his anger under control.

“It’s a trap. He’s trying to get you to follow him. He didn’t expect you to bring so many with you, but even that isn’t a deterrent. He … wants the rest of you as well.” She looked away. This was harder than she’d thought it would be.

Glorfindel knelt next to her, and his startlingly clear blue eyes met hers. “Do not fear what you must say, my lady. You are among friends. Speak your mind.”

Legolas put his hand on her shoulder and she reached up to take it. Taking a steadying breath, she continued.

“This patron would be in the room when Karandun was showing me the error of my ways. He would wait until Karandun left, then he would taunt me and steal my energy, spirit, whatever you want to call it. He told me he was going to do the same to Legolas. He said … he said he would torture my husband until he finally died, then he would send his body back to Thranduil.”

The Elves did not speak, trying to understand this being’s rationale.

“He would show me, in my nightmares, the things he was going to do to Legolas and to me. The only reason he is still interested in me is in how much pain I can help him bring to my husband. Last night, the nightmares he sent me included you.” She dared glance at the strong Elven warriors gathered around. The images from her nightmare returned and she closed her eyes.

“He seemed thrilled that you had all come. He said he had not feasted on Elf-spirit in many years. He was looking forward to tormenting you as well. He was particularly excited Glorfindel was in this company. Apparently, Elven souls give him greater power than those of Men. He also told me … told me …” Legolas squeezed her hand and she found her voice. “He told me he would torture the warriors, take their souls and, when they were near death, he would give them to his ‘pets’. He said, ‘Elf-flesh will be quite a treat’ for them.”

Her listeners shuddered. They could easily picture themselves and their warriors being given to Orcs, Uruk-Hai, and Warg as rations. It equaled---possibly exceeded---the atrocities of Sauron.

“Is there anything else, Alexandra?” Haldir’s voice was uncharacteristically gentle. He could see she was struggling with how much to tell them.

“He sent me a new and improved version of his nightmare visions. In it---Legolas, this is harder than I thought, I’m sorry---in it, I was in this large courtyard surrounded by these torches lighting it around the edges. But when I looked closer, I saw they were actually Elves who had been impaled on tall stakes, and they were … on fire. I could smell their flesh as it burned and hear their screams and I recognized them---they were Elves that I knew.” She could not bring herself to say it was these Elves right here---the ones listening to her words.

“I was on my knees and my body felt like I had been beaten for days. And Legolas was chained between two Warg that were tethered in front of me and they had … done things to him, and had sewn his eyelids open so he was forced to watch the things being done to me and to the Elves. Then, suddenly, I was in Eryn Lasgalen, in front of the gates to Thranduil’s realm, where his guard could find me. I was chained to a stone box, like a crypt. Mirkwood Elves freed me and took the box to the King, and in it were the … um, the pieces of Legolas’ body where the Warg had been released and pulled him apart; and a parchment that told everything he had done to me, to Legolas, to you and to all the other warriors was in the box as well.” She fought down nausea, swallowed hard and continued. “The page was made from the … skin from Legolas’ body and it was tied with a braid of his hair and … and the ink was Elven blood.” She closed her eyes and the sights and sounds of her nightmare filled her mind. “I remember hearing Thranduil’s cries and then that … thing laughing. Then, I was left with those images to remember.” She was surprised she had not yet cried during the telling of this tale, although her voice had broken on more than one occasion.

Reliving the horror of the nightmare had taken a toll. She shivered and Saelbeth handed her Legolas’ cloak, which her husband wrapped around her.

The Elves did not speak as they ruminated on her words. Their disgust and horror ran deep, but they did not allow their feelings to show.

“Please, don’t go after him,” she pleaded with Legolas. “It’s what he wants so he can have you.”

“Have you no faith in our ability to defeat him?” His tone was almost cruel as he fought to control his swirling emotions. “Such evil cannot be allowed to roam Middle Earth. If we do not put a stop to him, he will continue.”

“Legolas is correct.” Haldir looked at Rumil and Orophin, who nodded in agreement. “If we do not pursue him now, he will bring his evil to our realms.”

“If we pursue him now, we can keep the fight away from the Elf-homes,” Elladan added. “At least he appears to be heading into the wilds where the chance of innocents being hurt is smaller than if he were heading west.”

“Then let me go after him,” she said. Turning to her husband, she continued. “Now that I am no longer suffering from the poison, I am as strong as ever. If he were to take my spirit or energy or whatever, it would not give him the same power as would an Elf’s. I will kill him, but do not send Elves after him.” She was so convinced of the danger to Legolas and his kind, she could think of nothing else.

“No, Alexandra. You will go back to Ithilien or Minas Tirith or someplace where it is safe. I will not let you be placed in any more danger.”

She bit off an angry retort. She would not argue any more with her husband publicly. Orophin caught her eye and she saw sympathy and understanding in his gaze.

“But my wife does bring up a valid point,” Legolas addressed his kin. “This quarrel is apparently a personal one between this creature and my father and I. I cannot---and will not---ask you to come with me. The Elves of Lorien and Rivendell need not become involved in this conflict. I do not wish to take Ithilien or Mirkwood Elves either, but at least they would be defending their King and Lord. I ask you to take those of your people and secure the borders left open by Karandun’s madness. And I would ask that you escort my wife to safety.”

Glorfindel stood and looked around at the others. Finally, he said, “I believe when this creature decided to burn us alive and feed our warriors to his Orcs, it became our quarrel as well.”

Elrohir, Elladan and Saelbeth all agreed with the Seneschal of Rivendell. “We will not abandon the search for this being until he is gone from this world,” Elladan said.

“The Galadrhim do not avoid a fight because it may be dangerous,” Haldir offered. The March Warden and his brothers declined to leave with their forces. “However,” he added, “we will certainly send a party with Lady Alexandra to escort her to the sanctuary of your choosing.”

Alex had had enough. “I appreciate your tender concern for my person, my friends. However, I was here at the beginning of this cluster and, by Gil-Galad’s balls, I will finish it!”

The unexpected expletive momentarily stunned the Eldar. Then Glorfindel and Rumil let out simultaneous bursts of laughter, the others soon joining in.

“I have not heard that particular oath in centuries,” Glorfindel said when the laughter had subsided. “By the Valar, lady, you are surprising.”

“Glad I could bring a smile to an otherwise dull day,” she replied. Legolas was giving her his “I’m the Prince and you’ll do as I say” look. She met his gaze unflinchingly. Finally, he sighed.

“I know that if I try to send you away you will simply refuse to go.” Turning to his Captains he asked, “Suggestions?”

Unable to resist temptation, Haldir replied in all seriousness, “For a strategy to defeat this unknown creature? Or for a way to spirit your wife to safety against her wishes?”

“Given the latter is a task even the Valar would not attempt,” Saelbeth chimed in, “I would imagine he means the former.”

Turning to Alexandra, her Lord grimaced. “Thank you, lady, for providing my brethren with a source of amusement.”

“My pleasure, my love,” she answered sweetly. He could not help himself and his mouth twitched as he fought back a smile before turning back to his friends.

Orophin had been silent during much of the discussion and, after considering the situation, offered his opinion.

“I believe there is a way to get Alexandra to a relatively safe position yet give her the opportunity to ‘finish this cluster’,” whatever that meant. All eyes turned to the normally quiet Warden.

“Send her to your father. If he is the ultimate target, she can tell him of this creature and perhaps find out what the reason may be. A small party of warriors could accompany her and Eryn Lasgalen would be warned to prepare for possible attack. It would also keep her out of the clutches of this creature so she could no longer be used against you.” He looked directly at Alexandra, who seemed ready to protest. “It would prove false the visions this creature has shown her. If they can be changed, then his power is not infallible, and any of the other outcomes he seems so sure of are uncertain as well.”

Glorfindel nodded. “Yes. In the dreams, my lady, you are present to witness Legolas’ torture and death. If that detail can be changed, then the entire prophetic situation is in doubt.”

She looked at Legolas, silently pleading with him not to send her away. But she saw the astuteness of Orophin and Glorfindel’s words. For his part, Legolas did not want to be parted from her so soon after having her back in his arms. But the others spoke with wisdom. He nodded.

“Saelbeth, take half the warriors and accompany my wife to the lands of my father. He knows you and you will be allowed to enter. Take Balewith and Morhir as their skills may be needed in Mirkwood.” The other Elf nodded and went to make the necessary preparations. Turning to Alex, he gave her a rueful smile. “You always wanted to see where I dwelt before we met. Now you will have your chance.”

The others left them and went to divide the company. Legolas and Alex looked at each other silently.

“What just happened here? I thought I’d won this round.” He almost laughed at the look of confusion on her face. They gathered weapons---the sword she’d picked up and an Elven dagger he kept in his pack---and he carried them to her new mount, which she’d taken to calling Ajax. Her choices for naming her animals never ceased to confuse him.

“Never argue with the logic of the Elves, my love,” he said as he took her in his arms. He could see the fear in her eyes, though she tried hard to hide it.

“My father will protect you, my love. Do not worry.”

“I’m not worried about myself, Legolas. I am so afraid for you. If something were to happen to you, I---.” she trailed off. She could see in his eyes, this was the reality he lived with every day. As much as she loved him, he loved her just as much, and he knew she would die someday.

Kissing her softly, he caressed her cheek, then smiled and she felt his love overwhelm her. “I will see you in the hall of my father, heart of my heart.” He lifted her onto Ajax and waved to her as she departed with the Elves bound for Mirkwood. She’d ridden almost a mile before it dawned on her that his last words could be taken two ways---he’d see her in Mirkwood at Thranduil’s palace; or in the afterlife.