Tears of the Valar

Disclaimer: 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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“This is the place?” Legolas asked Naveradir.

The ancient Elf nodded. “We gathered the waters from this pool and carried them back to Goroth.” He sat on a nearby rock and gazed at the sunlight reflected on the placid surface of the water. “All for his vanity.”

Legolas looked at the Elf, struck by the bitterness in his tone.

“I am sorry your father turned into a monster.”

Naveradir smiled slightly. “I think he was born a monster. He was always vain and selfish and thought nothing of the lives of others. I am sorry I was drawn into his twisted way of life.”

“But you broke free,” the prince reminded him. “You saw what was happening was wrong and you tried to change it. You should have no regrets in that quarter now.”

The dark-haired Elf nodded thoughtfully. “I suppose you are correct. It is not fitting for an Elf to carry regrets. Still, the memory of some of the things I did …” His voice trailed off as he was drawn back into the past, seeing the sordid, repulsive sins he committed before coming to understand how wrong they were. His father’s tutelage had been effective, but something inside of Naveradir caused him to question the life he led. Looking back to the blonde Elf, he smiled.

“Enough of my morbid self-pity. It is unworthy of an Elf.” He glanced around, smiling as his young kin delighted in the beauty and peace of Cuivienen. “I hope Helcarin has found what he sought in this place,” he murmured.

“I do not think even he knew what it was he sought here,” Legolas replied. “But I believe he will know before we leave.” Nodding to the older Elf, the prince made his way over to where his wife sat apart from the rest of his kin.

She seemed not to notice him, appearing deep in thought and he did not wish to disturb her. There was sadness, a longing in her gaze that he did not understand. Cuivienen was beautiful, peaceful and comforting. She should not appear distressed.

“Perhaps she is thinking on how soon her own beauty will fade and wither,” an old, familiar voice murmured to Legolas. “Such thoughts could not easily find solace in the place where immortality began.”

“It has been some time since you have bothered me, Morgoth. Why do you despoil this place with your presence?”

The voice laughed softly. “I am merely suggesting causes for your lady’s distress, young prince. Why do you always suspect my motives?”

“Because they are always selfish and aimed toward the destruction of me, my kin and the people of Middle-Earth,” Legolas snapped.

“Have I done anything to deceive or harm you and yours? Lately?”

Legolas’ smile was without amusement. “You always seek to deceive,” he replied. “Leave this place and leave us in peace.”

“Truly, son of Thranduil, your words cut me to the quick. I simply made an observation, hoping to provide some insight into the lady’s thoughts so you could understand and think on what could be done to ease her mind.”

The Elf sniffed disdainfully. “I suppose you think I will be grateful for your concern.”

Morgoth chuckled. “I am not so deluded as to imagine I could ever earn your gratitude young prince. Take it as it is: advice.” The pleasant voice sighed. “Look how sad she seems. I even see the glint of tears in the corners of her eyes though she will not allow them to fall; she has much pride, especially when it comes to displaying emotion around your people. Comfort her, my prince. You have the means at your disposal.”

“Of what do you speak?” Legolas asked, but his question was met with only silence. As usual, Morgoth told him just enough to leave him confused.


Alexandra sat, oblivious to her stunning surroundings. Her husband’s kin were excited and seemed blissfully happy to be here. She, however, could not share their enthusiasm. Sure, it was a lovely setting; but she got no emotional lift from it like the Elves seemed to. In fact, she found so much splendor somewhat intimidating and oppressive.

She did not know what was wrong with her. For several months she had been overly emotional, easily distressed, crying at the silliest, most minor things. And morbid; she had been dwelling on thoughts of mortality, loss and feelings of inferiority which had never troubled her in the past.

Perhaps it was the realization that time was moving much faster for her than for her husband and friends; it was growing extremely short in contrast to their virtually immortal lives. Then again, she did not fear death; it was simply the things leading up to it. She would grow weaker and weaker, becoming feeble and unable to care for herself and, as a result, become a burden to Legolas. She would lose her youth and any faint beauty she might possess, soon looking much older than her forever-young and beautiful husband.

Alexandra had never worried about such things in the past, but then everyone had been the same. Now she was among people who did not have such considerations. She knew Elves did age, but the process was so slow their lives were immortal by human standards. And Glorfindel had told her they aged even slower in Valinor than in Middle-Earth. The golden-haired Elf-Lord had chuckled and told her time seemed to fairly fly to Elves in Middle-Earth, though it still moved inconceivably slow to mortals.

The woman felt eyes upon her and glanced up, seeing her husband approach. He was exquisite and it tore at her heart, so great was his beauty. Sitting down on the soft grass beside her, his scent washed over her and she felt such love and comfort from him, she was forced to fight back tears.

“Why do you look so sad, my love?” Legolas could sense her distress through their bond though he could not discern the cause.

She smiled, taking a calming breath.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to seem sad. I’m fine; maybe just overwhelmed by the beauty of this place.”

“It is breathtaking,” he agreed, looking at the multitude of various flowers, the waterfalls and placid pools. “But it does not compare to your beauty,” he added, turning to her with a smile.

Instead of making her feel better, however, his words only served to underscore that which she would lose in the blink of an eye.

Shaking her head, she whispered, “No, my love. I have no beauty and any I may have had is fading rapidly.” Horrified, she felt the tears she had fought to control begin to slip down her cheeks. Alexandra looked away, cursing whatever weakness had taken hold of her lately.

Legolas pulled her close, kissing the top of her head. She had been prone to tears much of late and he did not understand why or how to help her.

“Why do you cry, my love? What sorrow burdens your heart?” He felt helpless in the face of her distress.

“I don’t know,” came her muffled reply. Her face was buried against his chest and he stroked her hair soothingly. “I can’t seem to stop lately. Everything makes me cry … and I’ve never been one to cry easily.”

“Are you ill?” The thought of Alexandra becoming sick terrified him. He could defend her against outside dangers, but when her body turned against her, he was powerless.

She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I just … It’s not important.”

“It is important to me. If it distresses you, then it is of the utmost importance.”

“I don’t know, Legolas. I feel sad and I think of growing old and I don’t want to be a burden to you.” She kept her voice low, not wanting the others to hear them.

“You will never be a burden, Alexandra. I love you and will love you forever and beyond.” He kissed her gently and wiped away her tears with his thumb. “Why have these thoughts begun to plague you now?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I think probably because I know it’s inevitable and it’s been apparent to me where in the past, it was just a concept.” Looking at him, she managed to smile. “It’s silly, I know. Just … let me mourn. I’ll come to terms with it eventually.”

Legolas studied her for a moment then finally nodded.

“I do not like seeing you upset, my sweet. If I could take your sorrow from you, I would.”

“I know,” she replied softly. “Thank you. You are my strength.”

He smiled then kissed her tenderly. They remained in the secluded spot, away from the others, and enjoyed the time they had together.


Helcarin walked away from the others as they explored the various artifacts and the beauty of the surrounding area. Even Pomea was entranced by the serenity of the place and he smiled as he saw her sitting beside Glorfindel, examining an exquisite flowering bush. She seemed almost child-like in her fascination, her reserve dropped.

The golden-haired Elf maneuvered through the abundance of plants, waterfalls, pools, towering trees and breathtaking rock formations, appreciating their beauty and marveling that plants from almost all the areas of Arda seemed to grow in harmony in this spot. Some required vastly differing conditions for growth, yet all flourished beside the Waters of the Awakening.

He had accomplished what he had set out to do: found Cuivienen and the sacred waters. He did not know why it had been such an imperative for him, but he had answered the call and now he wondered what would be asked of him next.

Walking alongside the stream, he came upon a cool grotto where water trickled down over glittering rocks into the stream and a natural shelf of stone provided a place to sit in the cool shade of the rock and the surrounding trees. Helcarin skipped lightly over the stones in the stream to the grotto and, smiling, sat on the rock shelf, gazing out at the beauty that surrounded him. Truly, it was Eru’s glory reflected in this place.

He did not notice how long he sat there, musing on his surroundings, giving thanks to Iluvatar and the Valar for creating such a wondrous place and so was unaware of how long the other Elf had been kneeling beside the stream, leaning down every so often to dip his fingers in the clear water.

Helcarin tilted his head as he came to realize the ellon was there, in front of him. He did not recognize him yet he had a familiar air about him, as if he had, perhaps, seen him from a distance somewhere long past.

As if feeling the Noldo’s eyes on him, the unknown Elf turned to gaze at him with calm, silvery-blue eyes, a serene smile on his lips. His hair shown like mithril, straight and silver, two braids on each side pulling it back from his face. And a beautiful face it was, with a slight glow that seemed to radiate from the ellon. He wore a loose tunic of a cream color, pale blue leggings and cream-colored boots.

“Welcome, my friend,” the ellon told Helcarin in a low, pleasant voice.

Helcarin touched his hand to his chest and bowed.

“Thank you.” He paused. “Are you the keeper of this place?”

The ellon smiled. “One might say I have an interest in it.” He stood and was as tall as Helcarin. “I am Inderion. Welcome to the Waters of the Awakening, Helcarin of Imladris and Forodwraith.”

Hecarin looked at him sharply.

“How do you know who I am?” He resisted the urge to draw his sword, but prepared himself in the event protection was needed.

Inderion laughed softly.

“I have been waiting for you since your fathers created you and your mother began to nurture you.” He gestured to the small waterfall trickling out of the face of the grotto. “The source.”

Helcarin looked at the small stream of water, surprised that such a small thing had fed the pools and streams where his ancestors had first awakened.

Turning back to the ellon, he asked, “Why me?”

Inderion raised an amused brow. “It is your purpose, of course.”

“What is?”

“Drink,” he replied, gesturing to the water just where it fell from the small opening in the rock. “Drink from the source and you will know.”

Helcarin shook his head. “Naveradir drank from the waters and he did not die when his father’s warg ate him alive. I do not wish my spirit to be trapped and unable to go to Mandos.”

Inderion shook his head. “Naveradir drank from the pools of the waters, not the source; and it was not his destiny to fulfill your task. It had been hoped he would, but circumstances prevented it from being so. You, however, were born specifically for this moment, Helcarin; and you have reached the source. Drink, and you will know.”

The young ellon looked at the water, then walked to the small waterfall. He cupped his hands beneath it and smiled as it filled them, then spilled down. It was cool to the touch and felt pleasant on his flesh. Taking a deep breath, he lifted his cupped hands to his lips and drank deeply of the fresh, soothing water.

It was as though he suddenly had a ravening thirst that would only be quenched by this water and he drank another handful, then another. As it slid down his throat and into his belly, he noticed a cool tingling seemed to spread throughout his body and suddenly he saw so many things … and he understood.