Blessed by the Valar

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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Legolas watched his wife ride away in the company of 125 Elves. It should have made him feel better about her safety. She was better protected than anyone else in Middle Earth, but, with all that had happened to her in the last few days, he knew he’d never feel good about having her out of his immediate sight.

Glorfindel and Haldir came to stand beside him as they watched their kin vanish into the darkness.

“The Valar will protect her, my friend,” Haldir said.

“Do not worry, young Prince. Your wife will be safe in your father’s realm,” added Glorfindel.

Legolas watched for a moment longer, then turned to his friends. “This foul creature is so anxious to meet us. Let us grant his wish.” The camp had been broken as quickly as it had been established. Legolas mounted Arod and the remaining Elves vanished in the opposite direction from their Mirkwood-bound brethren.

They followed the trail of the one they’d begun calling The Patron. The Orcs did not try to hide their tracks and they recalled Alex’s words: he wanted them to find him. The Elves moved with the stealth of their race and after less than a week, the forward scouts reported the trail led to an abandoned tower in the mountains of Rhun. The lands had been cursed by Morgoth in the first age and Ungoliant dwelt there for many years.

Glorfindel told them he believed there had once been Elves in the mountains surrounding the tower, but they had fallen prey to Morgoth’s evil through Sauron and his followers. There had been many years where Sauron had dwelt in the East and his activities were undocumented. The Elves had diminished, as the evil grew stronger. There were rumors of vile creatures loosed by the Dark Lord and his Master that were lost---no one knew what had happened to them.

“You believe this Patron is one of those creatures?” Elladan was skeptical. “They are stories---told to keep Elflings close to home.”

The Lord of the House of the Golden Flower smiled at his young friends. “Are you so certain?”

“No,” Elrohir admitted. “He was always afraid Thuringwethil was watching from the mountains whenever we had to go out at night until well into his fifth century.”

Elladan glared at his twin as Legolas and Rumil joined Elrohir and Glorfindel in quiet laughter. Orophin caught Haldir’s eye and his brother gave him a menacing glare. Legolas noticed the exchange and his eyes opened wide.

“What? The fearless March Warden of the Galadhrim feared Thuringwethil as well?” At Orophin’s smirk and Haldir’s look of chagrin, he clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Do not feel bad, my friend. I was certain she hid in the trees of Mirkwood and the spiders were her pets.”

Glorfindel smiled at the confessions of the younger Elves. It reminded him that he was probably the oldest Elf left in Middle Earth---if you counted his first life.

The Elves spread around the grounds of the tower. They saw a few Orcs, but no great force. These were enemies they were accustomed to hunting and killing. Elladan and Elrohir were especially adept at stalking Orc, and they each took command of a small company and slipped into the tower grounds.

The remaining Elves waited until a soft nightbird call came from atop one of the tower battlements, the signal they had agreed upon. They moved silently into the tower’s courtyard, noting the dead Orcs in the shadows. Elladan came over to Legolas, wiping the black Orc blood from his sword.

“There is not a strong Orc presence that we can find. If he thought he was going to take on a company of Elves, he wasn’t going to use them.” Glorfindel and Haldir took their warriors and began a thorough search of the tower keep. Legolas, Orophin and Rumil split off and decided to start at the top and work their way down.

The three of them moved quickly and quietly up the maze of stairs leading to the walkway on the top of the tower, the watching-place. As they climbed, a sense of unease that had been present for months came to the fore and began to grow. They exchanged a look acknowledging their mutual concern.

“I believe the one we seek is near,” Rumil said quietly.

Legolas nodded. “He seeks us as well.”

They moved soundlessly up the last set of stairs. Rumil stayed near the foot, Orophin near the top and Legolas stepped out onto the watching-place. The sky was black, even the stars were dim. No moon cast its light over the landscape and only his Elven sight allowed him to distinguish his surroundings.

The top of the tower was completely empty. A low rail ran around the perimeter and thin spikes protruded at each corner. Yet the presence of something evil permeated the very air. He slipped his knives free, ready to do battle with whatever lurked in the darkness. A fell voice came to him, carried on the wind. It insinuated itself into his mind and he felt contaminated by its vile whispers.

“Welcome, young princeling. What you seek is not here. But what you need is.”

“Show yourself,” he said softly. “Why do you hide behind the veil?”

The voice laughed quietly. “Are you so anxious to know me, Legolas Thranduilion? I had heard you were a hero of the War of the Ring---one of the Fellowship. I thought it would be more difficult to call you to me. But, if you are asking me … I will come to you. You can join your kinsmen, Maeglin and Eol.”

The names of the two Elves who were known more for their treachery and corruption repulsed Legolas. They had fallen prey to the Dark Lord’s seductions and their people had paid the price.

“I was told you sought me. I am here.”

“Ah, you seek my servant. He is the one who has tasted the soul of your bondmate. He is the one who craves you---he has his own private agenda where you are concerned. I do not care as long as he accomplishes the tasks I have set for him.” The voice was revolting yet seductive.

“Who are you? I would know the name of the one who has caused so much disruption to the lives of the people of Middle Earth.”

“You know my name. Your woman told you.”

Melkor---Morgoth. But that being was in the void, forbidden from returning to Arda. The voice answered his thoughts.

“Are you so certain, Son of Thranduil? The time of the Elves is fading. You will be gone from these shores soon---perhaps to the Halls of Mandos---perhaps this very night. Who, then, will stand against me? Who will bar the gate to Arda? Men? They could not even see the viper in their midst. They were so easily distracted by the perceived threat of the Easterlings and the Southrons, they completely ignored my servant and his pets.”

Legolas felt the first stirrings of despair. It was all for nothing. The struggle against Sauron had not ended evil in Middle Earth. Even Morgoth, restrained by the Valar, could find his way back. Why should he bother to fight that which could never be truly defeated?

“Yes, young prince. There is aught left for the Elves here. What good have your pains and your struggles gotten you? And you know, Valinor will fall---when Arda ends, so will the Undying Lands. Then, all that will be left will be my servants and my will. The Valar will go back to Iluvatar and Arda will be left to me.”

Legolas’ heart was heavy. Even the Undying Lands would fall into corruption, according to Morgoth’s words. His despair grew. There was nothing that would last---nothing good.

“Your wife will die soon; her flesh will become food for worms, and you will be alone. You can feel her mortal life slowly draining as we speak. Every day, your bond grows weaker as her time in this life draws closer to its end. When it is finally over, your soul will be bereft. But,” the tone of the voice slipped into that of a lover, intimate and persuasive, “I can give you life together beyond that of the Undying Lands. Your prayers to the Valar have been heard, but only I can give you the answer you desire.”

Surely, he didn’t mean---“You would grant her immortality? We could be together until the ending of the world?”

“And beyond.”

“How?”

“You have only to join me. You do not need to do anything, really. Just do not stand in the way of my servants. You would be protected, you and your House. As long as you keep your part of the bargain, your mortal wife will be as the Firstborn: she will remain young and beautiful, and will be there to warm your bed and stand beside you for as long as time lasts.”

It was everything he had asked the Valar for---and they had denied him, ignored his pleas. But now he had the chance to keep his Alexandra with him forever. And he did not have to sacrifice anything. It was not as if he were being asked to take lives.

“What of your servant who seeks the destruction of my father?”

“I can put a quick end to that little quest,” the voice of Morgoth replied. “I can also end that diverting little war to the south, if you like. My servant orchestrated it simply to keep the Kingdoms of Men out of the way of his revenge plot. Give me your word in agreement, and it is finished.”

All he had to do was agree, and the strife in Southern Gondor would end; his father would be safe; and, most importantly, his wife would be granted immortality with him. The despair that had so recently filled his heart would be banished forever.

What did he owe the Valar? They had denied his pleas. They had allowed his wife to be taken and tortured; had allowed thousands to die in the War of the Ring, and probably in this War with the Eastern Alliance.

He took a breath. Just one word of agreement. It wasn’t so difficult. And he could save so many---

“Legolas!” Orophin’s voice cut into his consciousness. Startled, Legolas instinctively swung around with his twin knives, prepared to deal a killing blow. The Lorien Elf blocked him with his sword and shouted his name again.

“Legolas! They have found something below the tower.” He did not like the way his friend’s eyes stared blankly, as if he did not recognize his surroundings. “Legolas. Look at me.”

Slowly, his eyes came back into focus and a look of horror crossed his face.

“Orophin?” He grasped his friend by the shoulder and looked around the empty watching-place. “Did you see anything? Was there anything here, with me?”

The other Elf shook his head. “No, you were alone. But you gazed into the distance, as if deep in meditation.” He could see Legolas’ distress. “What happened?”

“Morgoth,” he said softly. “He was here.”

“No,” whispered Orophin. “It cannot be.”

“He … I---.” Legolas was at a loss for words. He shook his head. “What is beneath the tower?”

“Come. I do not know, but Haldir and Glorfindel were quite upset. I heard Haldir’s oath from the top of the stairs.”

They raced down the steps of the tower, Rumil joining them. When they reached the bottom, they ran along a corridor, led by one of Elladan’s warriors. The hallway led them to another set of steps, leading down from a hidden courtyard. The stairs ended in a large cavern, which appeared to extend far into the mountain. Pits were dug and the bones of Orcs and Men littered the cavern floor. The stench was overwhelming.

Legolas and the brothers joined the twins, Haldir and Glorfindel near one of the larger pits.

“Is this what it looks like?” Legolas felt loathing and fear growing in the pit of his stomach. His encounter with the voice of Morgoth had left him troubled and this place only added to the growing discomfort.

Elrohir nodded. His twin surveyed the cavern with disgust. Glorfindel knelt and studied one of the bones at his feet while Haldir muttered an Elven curse and confirmed Legolas’ fears. “An Uruk-Hai birthing pit.”

“These bones are not that old,” Glorfindel said, rising. “The teeth-marks are fresh and the marrow has not yet turned to dust.”

The other Elves looked around with varying expressions of repugnance. “They have an army of Uruk-Hai,” Rumil said with resignation. “Why could they not just stay with Orcs?”

“Because Uruk-Hai can travel during the day,” Elladan replied.

“A quality necessary for travel over long distances,” added Elrohir.

“There is no one here alive. There were only a few Orcs in residence. Where is this Patron? From what Karandun’s men said, there were a large number of Orcs in his company.” Haldir pondered the puzzle. Then, his eyes met those of Legolas and they both spoke in unison.

“Mirkwood.”

“What?” Elrohir had been examining some of the implements scattered about.

“They have gone to Mirkwood---this was another distraction.” Legolas raced toward the stairs, followed by the rest of the Elves. Bursting into the Courtyard, he shouted orders for the warriors to gather and ride to Eryn Lasgalen as quickly as possible.

“Do you think the patron knew we would split our forces?” Orophin asked as the Elves quickly mounted and headed away from the accursed tower.

“He’s known everything else,” Glorfindel replied.

“Then what was the purpose of having us come here? If he wanted to ‘feast on our souls’ or whatever, this was his best chance.” Haldir found the whole business too full of deceit.

Legolas exchanged a look with Orophin. “The whole point of coming here was so the Patron’s master could try to persuade me to join his cause,” Legolas said miserably.

The others looked in askance, but Orophin simply said one word, “Morgoth.” They continued their ride in shocked silence.

*
During the ride to Mirkwood, Alex had remained surrounded by the Elves. Saelbeth took the lead; Balewith and Morhir had remained at her sides. The rest of the company made sure she was never vulnerable from any direction. She was quite upset about the whole business. But the memory of the creature’s visions silenced any possible protests.

She asked her companions if they also felt as though evil were pursuing them. Balewith nodded.

“It is as though the Nazgul ride after us on their Fell Beasts.” Alex had seen the skeletons of those creatures, although she’d never seen a Nazgul. Legolas, however, had told her of Sauron’s Ringwraiths. They sounded quite nasty.

“What does your heart tell, you about the Prince’s safety, my lady?” Saelbeth did not wish to bear witness to the King’s grief and rage should something happen to his beloved only son.

“I still feel him. I don’t know what it’d feel like if something were to happen to him. I’m just content to feel his presence.”

They rode swiftly, stopping only to allow the horses a few moments’ respite. The Elves knew the secret roads to Mirkwood, and, although Alex could not often see the way, she trusted them to get her to Legolas’ father safely.

After fewer days than she would have thought, they came upon a great forest. It was dark and somewhat forbidding, but beautiful in a wild and untamed manner. As they approached, the apprehension that had been niggling at them all grew into fear---fear and something else.

Alex felt her primal self awakening. Something very old was here, waiting. She glanced at her companions. They appeared outwardly calm, but she could sense their tension.

Moving up beside Saelbeth, she asked softly, “What is in this place?”

The blonde Elf glanced at the tall, dark trees looming ahead. “The children of Ungoliant and Shelob infested Greenwood the Great for many years. It will take a very long time for their memories to fade.”

“Are you sure they aren’t here now?” Every nerve in her body was tingling. She was resisting the urge to slip from her horse and run through the forest, seeking prey.

Saelbeth hesitated for just a moment. “No,” he admitted.

The company of Elves slowed as it neared the border of the forest. Thranduil’s guardians were just as renowned as the wardens of Lorien when it came to protecting their realm. The Mirkwood Elves had the additional distinction of being unsurpassed in stalking the great spiders, Orc and other evil creatures from the days of darkness. Even though they were their kin, Alex’s companions did not wish to give the Mirkwood guardians reason to draw their bows.

A great river with dark fathomless waters flowed between the relatively open area where the riders approached, and the great forest. A long bridge spanned the rushing river and in the distant darkness of the woodland, a great gate could be seen. Legolas had told her of his father’s gate, which could only be opened by his will. Right now, it was firmly shut.

Out of the darkness of the wood an elf with deep golden hair emerged. Although his bow was held casually, Alex and her fellow travelers knew he could have it drawn in less than the blink of an eye. They also knew his companions had each of them sighted down the shafts of their own arrows.

“Mae govannen, Saelbeth of Rivendell.” The Mirkwood Elf allowed his gaze to casually travel over the rest of the company. “What brings you to the realm of Greenwood the Great?”

“Mae govannen, Findecano of Mirkwood. We come at the behest of Prince Legolas, Lord of the Elves of Ithilien. He has become aware of a threat against King Thranduil and his realm, and we bring warning.”

Findecano glanced at Alex, then back to Saelbeth.

“No mortals may enter Eryn Lasgalen without the King’s permission.”

The Ithilien Elf replied calmly. “You know who this mortal is, and I do not doubt Thranduil will allow her entry. His son has asked that his father grant shelter to his wife.”

The Mirkwood guardian gestured briefly and the others knew word had been sent to the King that his daughter-in-law was seeking his aid.

“Might I suggest you dismount? I am certain your horses would welcome the easing of their burdens. They have carried you faithfully.” Findecano did not have the same type of arrogance as Haldir, but it came awfully close. He, and his Mirkwood brethren, had an air of menace unlike that of the Lorien Wardens, which was cool and dispassionate; the Mirkwood guardians seemed the type to relish the hunt even more than the kill.

Alex swung down from Ajax and stroked his flank. She walked a distance away from her companions and looked at the far-off mountains. She sought Legolas in her heart and felt his familiar presence.

“I’m afraid,” she told him silently. “I’m afraid for you; I’m afraid your father won’t heed your warnings. Please, come to me and let’s return to Ithilien safely and forget all this ever happened.”

She didn’t know how long she stood there, staring into the distance. Suddenly, Morhir spoke, startling her.

“The king has granted us permission to enter his realm, my lady.” She turned to him and was struck by how young he looked. Where most Elves had perfected the haughty look, he seemed to have an openness that made him look so innocent. Even Legolas could manage that look once in a while. Saelbeth, Glorfindel, Haldir, Rumil and Orophin? Never. The twins? Maybe if they tried really hard and you looked at them in the right light. But Morhir, and Balewith, for that matter, had it naturally. They could assume the air of Elven coldness when necessary. But something about them made her want to mother them. Even though they were millennia older than her.

“How kind of him,” she said, with only a touch of sarcasm. Morhir smiled and waited for her to lead the way back to the company.

They mounted and rode into the Great Greenwood. Alex was already on alert and as she entered the shadows of the trees, she felt her skin begin to crawl. Her eyes caught movement to her right and she saw a shadow move quickly in the darkness. Something glowed a sickly orange, briefly---two spots through a curtain of leaves, then, nothing.

She looked at Findecano who was walking beside her. He had also seen it and the smile he gave her was grim. “Ungoliant’s children have been seen in the border regions for the past several weeks.”

They arrived at Thranduil’s palace, built into the mountains and trees---so blended into its environment as to almost look as if it had sprung naturally from the ground. Saelbeth and Alex were led into the great hall where Thranduil stood studying a portrait in an alcove off to the left side of the room. He turned as they entered and Alex was struck again by the startling resemblance between father and son.

The king wore dark green leggings and soft leather boots. His tunic was in the same style as those Legolas often wore, but was made of a light green, fine gossamer-like material embroidered in gold around the edges of the neck and sleeves in a pattern of leaves. The clothes served to accent his strong frame and his muscles rippled smoothly under the cloth. His light blonde hair, the same shade as his son’s, hung loose with only a couple of thin braids on each side that served to accent his deep blue eyes.

It dawned on Alex that this was what Legolas would look like in another couple of millennia. She felt a pang of regret that she wouldn’t be around to watch the transformation. But while he may physically grow to resemble his father, her husband had a sweetness about him---for all his Elven pride and dignity---that Thranduil did not possess---or had lost.

Saelbeth touched his chest and bowed respectfully. Alex simply gazed at her father-in-law with a pleasantly neutral expression and kept her hands clasped behind her back.

“You bring word from my son.” Thranduil all but ignored Alex and spoke directly to Saelbeth.

Glancing at her, Legolas’ advisor and friend said, “Prince Legolas and his Lady have uncovered a threat to you and your realm. We have come to tell you of what we have learned so that you may prepare to answer that threat.”

“And it took a company of 125 Elven warriors to bring me a message?” The king gave a short, bitter laugh. “Or did my son think his wife needed protection to approach me?”

“Your son sent these warriors with me because he believes the threat against you is great and he does not wish to see his father nor his beloved Greenwood harmed.” She was not going to be talked around, as if she weren’t even in the same room. Saelbeth lowered his gaze and stepped back as she and the king eyed each other.

“And what is this threat that so concerns your … husband.” He said the word as if it pained him.

“An evil creature has sought to harm Legolas through me in order to punish you for some wrong, real or imagined.”

Thranduil’s eyes narrowed. “What creature?”

“He didn’t tell me his name---he mentioned some sort of fallen Valar or something.”

“Morgoth,” Saelbeth interjected.

The king looked at him sharply, then returned his gaze to Alex. “Tell me everything---spare no detail.”

Glancing at Saelbeth, then the king’s attendants, Alex moved closer to the king. “If you want every detail, dismiss your people.”

With a gesture, the room emptied. Saelbeth gave her a supportive smile before closing the door.

Thranduil stepped up to the dais on which his great throne sat. Alex found herself wondering what her husband’s life had been like, growing up in this environment. Where Legolas could assume the mantle of royalty when necessary, Thranduil lived it. He sprawled comfortably in the massive chair and looked at her coolly.

“Tell me of this danger.”

She began with Lord Karandun’s verbal assault during the discussions in Minas Tirith, then her capture and torture at his hands. She told of how Legolas and his companions had rescued her, and the plans the creature who had controlled Karandun had shown her in her dreams.

Thranduil listened without comment. His expression grew dark when she described what the being had said he planned to do with the Elves in general, and Legolas in particular, but he remained silent.

When the tale was complete, she stood quietly, watching the father of her husband. The king appeared deep in thought. Then, he stood and walked over to a cabinet in an alcove, calling over his shoulder, “Would you like some wine?”

“Thank you,” she replied. She hoped it wasn’t that sweet stuff everyone else drank.

He poured two goblets and drained one immediately, refilling it before handing the other to Alex. She was surprised. Somehow, she’d expected him to be flippant; to exhibit the typical Elvish arrogance he seemed to have perfected. But his obvious consternation caused her to rethink her assessment of the King.

He watched his son’s wife as she took a tentative sip of the wine. She was obviously expecting that overly-sweet swill Men drank. She gave a nod of appreciation and he smiled.

“So Legolas and his friends set out to follow the trail of this creature?”

She nodded. “I tried to stop him, but he wouldn’t listen.”

Thranduil waved his hand dismissively. “Never try to argue with an Elf once he’s made up his mind. Especially my son.” He stared into his goblet reflectively. “I pray to the Valar he is safe. This creature is nothing but lies, as is his master.”

“You know who or what it is that is after you?”

The Elf sighed heavily. “Its name is Maelweth. It was when Legolas was only a wee Elfling, since I have heard the name. It---he, was supposed to be in the void with his master.”

“What is … he?”

Sighing, the king replied, “One of the foul creatures created by Morgoth from the darkness. The closest thing to describing his nature is a vampire. But he survives off of the souls, the living energy, of other creatures. He fed off of mortals because they were the easiest and most plentiful source. The souls of the Firstborn give him terrible power, though and he always craved us.”

“Why is he after you in particular?”

Thranduil sat on the steps to the dais where his great throne stood. To her surprise, he indicated for her to sit beside him. Sinking down onto the beautifully carved stone she watched her father-in-law as he seemed to look within himself.

It started not long after we arrived in the Great Greenwood. I was out in the forest---we often went out to try to prevent the Necromancer---Sauron, you may know him as---from spreading his evil throughout the entire region. Spiders and Orc were not as common as they later became, but we still hunted them.

Anyway, I was listening to the songs of the trees, when another sound came to my ears. It was the sound of weeping and stumbling steps, tripping over the forest floor. I hid among the trees and saw a mortal woman running blindly through the woods. She kept looking back over her shoulder every now and then, as if afraid of pursuit. I thought Orc were on her trail, but did not sense them.

The woman ran until she suddenly tripped over a root and fell into one of the many streams. While she was still on her knees, I saw a great black shape above her and loosed an arrow. One of the Great Spiders fell to her side, dead from my bow. The woman crawled backwards and I could see she was terribly frightened.

I went to her side and when she saw me, she began to cry harder. I didn’t know what to do. I tried to tell her she was safe, but she seemed afraid of me. Then, I saw her eyes widen as she looked behind me, and, nocking another arrow as I turned, I released it as another of the Great Spiders leapt at us. When I turned back to the mortal, she was unconscious. I took her back to our home and my wife, Baliel, who called for healers.

Obviously, a female presence comforted the woman, whose name was Kala. Of course, Baliel could comfort anyone. She was kind, sweet-tempered, patient---just like her son. It seems, Kala had run from her husband, as he had taken to beating her severely, and she believed he was falling under the influence of the Dark Lord. She told us she had escaped from his train as they journeyed to Lake Town for trade. She said she had run as far and as fast as she could, and thought the woods would give her cover. The woman knew there were spiders “and other evil things” lurking here, but death was preferable to continued life with her brute of a husband. She had been forced to leave her only son behind, but said his father doted upon the boy, and so she knew he was safe.

Baliel sent me away, as my presence seemed to frighten the woman further. Later, she told me the woman’s husband had always said Elves were evil, lascivious creatures who would steal from them and rape their women. He told her all we cared about was taking the hard-earned riches of Men and indulging our desires for wealth, wine and women.

The woman stayed in Greenwood and a few days later, a group of Men crossed our borders. From the look of them, they were the woman’s kin---or at least, her husband’s. We listened to them as they blundered their way into the forest, and their words supported our suspicions. Apparently, they expected to find the woman dead, “having fallen prey to either the demons of this wood or the Elves, which are the same.” The men soon came upon a nest of Great Spiders and retreated.

When I reported their words to the woman, she told me what they really wanted was a charm she had stolen from her husband. It was a dark blue stone that seemed to have shadow and smoke swirling inside of it. I did not like it and wanted it out of my kingdom. My wife found it particularly revolting and begged me to destroy it. Kala said she didn’t know what it was for, but her husband was obsessed with it, and so she had taken it.

Since we were all repulsed by it, I decided, much to my continued shame, to send the woman to the Galadrhim in Lorien. Galadriel had the power of her ring to protect her realm. She would know what to do with it. But, as we led the woman from our kingdom, her husband and his kin met us. Suffice it to say, there was an ugly scene. Her husband accused her of giving herself to the Eldar, called her a traitor to her race, and said he would see her dead before the hour had passed.

We tried to avoid harming the Men, but they made it difficult. Kala’s husband, it seemed, was fixed on the idea of killing his wife and even though his supporters had been wounded, he still went after her. She tried to escape, but he kicked and slashed at her while the rest of us battled the remainder of his force. Once they were subdued, I turned my attention to the man and Kala. He stood above her and raised his sword to deal a killing blow; but I shot him through before he could strike. The woman did not survive her injuries, despite the best efforts of our healers and was buried by the river where she had died.

The charm was forgotten and was buried with her. But the area around her grave became particularly uncomfortable for my people. We heard stories of a night visitor who left his victims weary, almost unto death. It takes a great deal to tire an Elf, but even my Baliel soon told of being visited by such a creature. She was so weary, I feared poison, enchantment---I feared for her very life.

One night, I heard my wife crying out in our bedchamber, as if in great agony. I rushed inside and saw this creature astride her, his hands grasping her about the waist as she screamed in pain. He looked to be a Man or Elf, but his skin was dark blue and it seemed as if shadows writhed on his flesh. He also had great wings, like that of a Fell-beast. When I entered the room, he turned to me and I saw his countenance. It was terrifying---black, glittering eyes, a mouth full of sharpened fangs and seven small, sharp horns encircling its head like a crown. It was naked and I could see it was aroused by my wife’s suffering.

My sword was in my hand and I swung at the beast, but the blow fell on nothing but air and the point of the sword sliced into the bed frame just above Baliel. Just a fraction lower and I would have killed my own wife.

He laughed and when he spoke it was as if many voices came from his mouth. “Pain makes the soul so much sweeter. And the fear and suffering of the Firstborn are delightful.”

He stood and folded his wings about himself and it looked like he was wearing a dark, hooded cloak. He told me, “You killed my servant. But you have given me the souls of the Eldar---that treat mitigates the loss of a lapdog.” He passed through the doorway and I could feel his evil drift over me. He paused at the door to Legolas’ nursery and I knew I would have to find a way to kill this creature.

“Perhaps, an Elven prince will be more to my liking; one I can train from youth.”

At my gasp of horror, he laughed, then vanished. I rushed in to Legolas’ room and he was sleeping quietly. I could not let this thing take my son; neither could I let it continue to terrorize my people. I went back to Baliel and she was in a deep, unnatural sleep. I could find nothing wrong with her physically, so I simply held her until her rest became normal.

Once I was convinced she was safe, I left a guard on her and Legolas---I don’t know what I thought they could do, since a sword could not kill this thing---and I went to Kala’s grave. The thing’s appearance reminded me of the stone in the charm she had taken from her husband. I hated to disturb her bones, but I had to get to the charm. It lay inside her clothes, next to her skin, where a sword cut had allowed blood to spill onto the charm. I was not as attuned to the mystical things as others, such as Galadriel or Elrond, but in my heart, I knew the blood had released the thing from its prison, given it form. The stone no longer had depth, but appeared dull and lifeless.

I took it back to our dwelling and locked it in a chest, then went to speak to my wife. Her mother had known many dark charms, having been trained as a sentinel of the Eldar, one who stood vigilant to warn against evil. Baliel and I talked over the threat the creature had made to our son. She told me that when he came to her, he told her terrible things and sent her awful visions. His name was Maelweth, which means, “stained shadow” in Sindarin. She said his painful attentions were slowly killing her and any others who suffered them for very long. Eventually, they would not have the strength to hold on to life and would let it slip away.

As for a way to defeat it, she said she would try to find a weakness in some of the texts that had belonged to her mother. She even volunteered to draw the beast to her. Of course, I refused---she would never fall prey to that creature as long as I had strength to fight it. She smiled and kissed me and told me to protect our son at all costs. The Valar would decide how the drama would play out.

There were continued attacks, but our people were vigilant, and the creature, when next it came to Baliel, was weaker. I was making sure the guards were watching over Legolas. I ran into our room at the sound of her cries to see the horrible thing kneeling over her. She did not struggle, but as it … joined with her, I saw the flash of a dagger as she sliced into her side, below her breast. The blood began to spill and I saw she had the charm next to her on the bed so that the stone was drenched in her blood. The creature let out a howl of rage, but it faded, as did my beloved’s life. I held her to me, tried to stop the blood, but she had cut too deep in order to ensure the beast would be drawn into the prison of the charm.

I could see the stone once again had its swirling blue shadows, but I didn’t care. I watched as the light dimmed and she tried to speak. I could feel our bond growing weaker, but could still feel her love for me, for our son. I leaned close and she whispered, “Do not mourn. Our son is safe. Our people are safe. It is the will of the Valar.” I kissed her and could feel her soul slip away and into the Halls of Waiting as her lips went slack under mine.

After my beloved was buried, I took the stone far into the mountains to the north where a great chasm with a bottomless lake lies in a hidden valley. I dropped the stone in the center of the lake where none will ever find it again.

Thranduil’s eyes had welled with tears---not only when he spoke of his wife’s sacrifice, but also when he told of the threat to his son. Alex’s heart went out to him and she almost reached over to touch him. He reminded her so much of Legolas, it was all she could do not to pull him into a comforting embrace. But he wasn’t her husband, so she remained still.

“If Maelweth has returned---it is through the power of the Valar, and not Man or Elf. There was no way the charm could ever be found.” The king looked at her. “Please forgive me---you would not have suffered had it not been for my actions. I should have destroyed the charm, not hidden it.”

“No. There was no way to know he could come back, that he could escape. We don’t even know if he has escaped.”

Thranduil stood. “It is Maelweth. He wants to punish me---I killed his ‘pet’, my wife sent him back to his prison, he threatened my son. Yes, lady, it is he.”

“But … how?”

“I do not know. I have not the gift of far-sight as strong as some of my brethren. But Sauron’s evil was far-reaching. Who knows what he may have called forth? Another of his master’s servants?”

After being in Middle Earth for several years, Alex had begun to accept that reality in this place was very different from the one she had always lived with. Sometimes, there was no logical explanation.

“Findecano tells me the spiders have returned.”

The king looked into his goblet and nodded. “The darkness is growing again. Before she departed for Valinor, Galadriel warned of a return. Celeborn and the Galadrhim in the south of Eryn Lasgalen will need to be warned as well. Although I may be this creature’s target, all Elves are at risk---he craves the souls of Eldar.”

Draining his wine, Thranduil summoned Findecano and had him alert the guardians to the kind of danger they may be facing. He also sent riders south to warn Celeborn and the Galadrhim. Alex was impressed by the swiftness with which the King marshaled his forces. With the addition of Legolas’ troops, there was much confidence that Greenwood was secure. Many of the Ithilien Elves had never hunted the Great Spiders as had their woodland kin. They got their chance as they joined the Mirkwood Elves on patrols.

Alex fought her instincts to hunt the beasts with her companions. She could not risk giving in to her private predator while in their company. Besides, Legolas would be quite angry if he thought she’d put herself at risk needlessly.

Over the days, waiting for the hammer to fall, Alex found herself in the king’s company much of the time. He was quite charming and seemed to have warmed up to her, especially after she had told him of her own encounter with Maelweth. She could see flashes of Legolas’ humor in Thranduil---the king could be as biting as Haldir or Orophin at their worst. But he also had a surprising gentleness that his son had inherited as well.

Once he had shared the story of his wife’s death, Thranduil seemed to open up more to his daughter-in-law. He told her of Legolas’ childhood antics; the tragedy of losing almost a third of the Mirkwood Elves and his own father in the Last Alliance; even how he and Baliel had met. One thing Alex wished to ask, but feared as well. The king seemed to sense her curiosity, for one evening as they drank their customary goblet of wine after dinner, he turned to look at her with eyes so like his son’s, it took her breath away.

They were sitting on one of the low couches in his private dining room. She sat against one arm, her knees drawn up under her. He was sitting at the other end of the couch, unperturbed, feet stretched out before him, eyes closed, and looking exactly like Legolas when he would relax at their home in Ithilien. She wondered how he remained so tranquil after the loss of his wife. From what he’d said, they were blissfully happy. He did not diminish. Perhaps there was hope for Legolas after she died.

As if reading her thoughts, he turned his head and gazed at her speculatively. “You know, Legolas will be desolate when you pass into the halls of your fathers.”

She looked down at her hands, at the ring Legolas had given her as a binding gift. Its iridescent stones flashed in varying colors in the candlelight of the room.

“I know.” Looking up, she added, “I would do anything to spare him that pain. I didn’t know, when we bound ourselves to one another, that my death would cause such distress.”

“Would you have refused the binding?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. No. Yes.” She looked into his dark blue eyes. “I want to be with Legolas, and make him happy while I can. I can’t live without him. But I think I probably would have refused if I’d have known.”

The king gave a small smile. “I know my son. He would not have accepted your refusal. He wanted you and no other.”

“I’ve thought about it. I could’ve been his … concubine or something, I suppose. We could have been together, just without the bond.”

Thranduil considered her words. A She-Elf would never consider such an arrangement. True, his son could have had the woman as his companion and bedmate. But without the bond, it would have been meaningless.

“No. The bond is necessary. I know he lay with you before the binding.” She looked at him sharply. “Nay, he did not say so,” the Elf laughed, “But I know my son. And I know that once he joined with you, that was when he knew nothing less than binding would do.”

She looked away, somewhat embarrassed to be discussing her and Legolas’ sex life with his father.

“Believe me, Alexandra, my son has tasted every vintage, and none even remotely tempted him for more than perhaps one bottle---some only one sip. With you, however, he was compelled to settle in the vineyard. No, once you lay together, binding was inevitable.”

He found her modesty amusing. He had raised his son well, so he knew she was no untouched gentle-lady. But the fact that she was reticent concerning her life with Legolas spoke well of her character.

“Will it be so terrible for him, once I’m gone?”

“Yes.” It was not the answer she’d hoped for.

“I am so sorry, Thranduil. I wouldn’t hurt him deliberately, for anything.”

“I know. He will feel great pain, not just physical pain as the bond is irrevocably changed, but in his heart as well. He will walk a thin edge, constantly in danger of slipping into despair. It will last for many years---for him, the rest of his life. His longing will never be eased, even in the Undying Lands. For Elves, the possibility of our departed mates joining us in Valinor is very real. As a mortal, you cannot make that journey. The Valar must count a mortal as Elf-kind for them to enter Valinor, and that is a blessing they have only granted once to my knowledge.”

“Then, you’ll be joined by Baliel when you sail into the West,” she said. At least Thranduil’s tragedy would have a happy ending.

“Yes, if she is released from the Halls of Waiting. I do not doubt the Valar will grant her entry into the Undying Lands because of her sacrifice.”

“You will comfort him when I’m gone, won’t you?”

The king’s heart was touched. “Yes, Alexandra. You know I will.”

“Thank you.”