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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The Elves spent several idyllic days at Cuivienen, each reluctant to leave. It was so beautiful, so peaceful and none could imagine their ancestors leaving such a place.

Helcarin had gone back to find his fathers and Pomea after his encounter with Inderion. Having drunk the waters from the source, his mind had filled with images and knowledge and he understood why he had been sent; but he also could not speak of it to anyone, not fully, not yet.

“When it is time, you will know,” Inderion had told him with a serene smile. “Until then, simply let the Valar guide you.”

“Can I not tell them something? To give them hope?”

The silver Elf had smiled and nodded. “Indeed, you may, but let them be tested. The road will not be easy for you or your friends; but if you have faith in what you know, then you will fulfill your destiny.”

Helcarin had considered the ellon’s words then nodded.

“Will I see you again?”

“Perhaps,” Inderion replied, a twinkle in his eyes. “Arda is a vast and wondrous place and Elves live very long lives. For now, trust what you have been shown.”

Helcarin had left then, and when he looked back, the ellon was gone. He wondered at Inderion’s nature---he did not think him a true Elf. Approaching Erestor, Glorfindel and Pomea he smiled, leaning down to kiss his beloved.

“So, my son, did you find what you sought?” Erestor asked, noticing how Helcarin seemed suddenly to have grown much older, having the appearance of a wise Elf rather than a young ellon.

“I believe I did, ada,” he answered, sitting on the lush carpet of grass and pulling Pomea into his embrace.

Glorfindel studied his son with interest. Helcarin was different and shone with an iridescent glow reminding him of the gown Siensia, Helcarin’s mother, had worn. Something else about the glow was familiar and nagged at the Elf-Lord’s mind, but he could not place it. Whatever Helcarin had sought, he had found.

“Well, are you not going to tell us?” Pomea asked with a laugh as she laid her head on Helcarin’s shoulder.

He kissed the top of her head and sighed contentedly.

“I found the source of the waters. It is so strange to think such a small flow could become this pool and nourish all of these living things.”

“Where is it?” Erestor asked, curious.

“Just over th---“ Helcarin’s words were silenced as he noticed the grotto was gone and the stream seemed to flow from underground, beneath a featureless rock. He smiled to himself; apparently the source had been for him alone.

“An underground spring?” Erestor glanced at Glorfindel with an amused expression. “Do not tell me we sprang from the same place as Dwarves.”

His companions laughed then each drifted off into his or her own contemplation of the beauty of the place.


“You will not do what you must to ease your wife’s fears?” Morgoth’s voice whispered in Legolas’ mind. “Truly, young prince; are you that blind that you cannot see what is before you?”

“What are you talking about?” Legolas asked silently.

“Why does she mourn?” Morgoth asked patiently.

“It is the inevitability of mortality,” Legolas replied shortly. He did not like to dwell upon it.

“But you have the means before you to take that fear away.”

“How?”

“The Sacred Waters. You know it can grant her long life---it did so for Lastharos.”

“You said you cared not for Lastharos as he cares not for any Vala.” Legolas recalled how Morgoth had said he had nothing to do with the Khandun.

“And I do not. Still, he has gained immortality from the Waters of the Awakening. Your lady could do the same.”

Legolas did not answer as his mind turned over the implications of what the fallen Vala was saying. Indeed, if she were to drink of the waters, bathe in them---perhaps Alexandra could gain immortality as well and then she and Legolas would forever be together.

“Think on it, son of Thranduil. Your beloved would never age; would remain strong and young and beautiful and by your side until the end of Arda. As an immortal, she would be granted a place in Valinor with you. It would answer the prayers of both of you that you not be parted.”

Oh, Eru, but the temptation was great. The fact that it came from Morgoth meant there had to be some hidden trick, but they knew it worked---Lastharos had indeed been granted immortality by the waters.

Legolas glanced over to where Alexandra lay sleeping on the soft grass, exhausted from her fears and sorrow. He could take them all away. All they had to do was have her drink and they would be together for all the lifetimes of Arda.

“Your words would seem to have merit if they did not come from you,” he finally told Morgoth. “There must be some penalty that must be paid else you would not suggest it.”

Morgoth sighed. “Again, you do not trust me? I am simply trying to help you achieve what you and your wife desire. You both have prayed to the Valar and Eru that you be granted eternity together---this is their answer. How else could you have gotten here, to the one place where your prayers can be answered, if not by the Valar’s will?”

Sweet Elbereth, but Morgoth made a persuasive argument. Indeed, they had been brought here by the hand of Eru. How could he really argue that to use the waters was against the Valar’s will? It was something both he and Alexandra had prayed for---not to be parted. She could sail with him to Aman and they could live forever in the Blessed Realm.

Without thought he took an empty cup and filled it from the pool at the headwaters. Taking it back to where his wife lay sleeping, he sat it next to their packs, then laid next to her, wrapping his arms around her.

Alexandra sighed in her sleep and turned, nuzzling Legolas’ chest as she settled in his comforting embrace. She did not even need to awaken to know her husband was there and she was safe.


“We must leave soon,” Helcarin told Pomea quietly as they on the grass sheltered by several large, fragrant flower bushes. They were pleasantly exhausted from their recent joining and her head was resting on his chest while he stroked her smooth back.

“You do not wish to leave, do you?” she asked, her fingertips idly tracing the muscles of his flat belly.

“No,” he answered, “but we must. It is not meant for Elves to dwell here any longer.”

She frowned. “Why? And how do you know?”

He smiled to himself. “I feel it.”

Turning to look up at him she raised a quizzical brow.

“Ah; you are now wise, my sweet. No longer will we be able to laugh at silly things.”

Helcarin shook his head. “I may have gained some knowledge, perhaps even some wisdom; but we will always share laughter, my love.”

“Always? You mean to remain in the East?”

“I mean to have you with me wherever I go.”

Pomea’s face shadowed. “If you sail to Valinor, I cannot go. The vanwe are forbidden entry into the Blessed Realm.”

“How do you know that?” he countered. “Did the Valar tell you? Did they send one of the Maia to counsel your people that they would be barred from Aman?”

“No,” she replied. “It is … something we have always known.” In truth, she did not know where the knowledge had originated, but it was accepted by all as true.

“Do you believe that Eru would abandon his children? Would deny his Firstborn their destiny?”

“But Valinor is the land of the Valar; we did not go with them when they summoned the Elves to the light of the Two Trees. We were abandoned here and they will not allow us into their land.”

“Have they told you this?”

She was silent for a moment.

“No,” she finally answered.

Helcarin smiled. “Then do not despair, my love. Have faith in Eru and the Valar.”

She nodded and once more laid her head down against his chest. With Helcarin she felt safe and secure like she never had before.


Alexandra awoke and looked up into her husband’s smiling eyes. She could not help herself and smiled in return.

“Do you never sleep?” she asked.

“I would rather watch you,” he replied, kissing her gently. “Did you sleep well?”

She nodded and stretched then sat up, her fingers entwining with his. This place was beautiful, but she longed to return to their home in Ithilien. She missed her dogs and their own bed; their friends and their private garden.

“When are we going home?” she asked quietly.

“You grow weary of the journey?” Legolas was accustomed to spending long years traveling, but his wife was mortal and did not have the time he did.

She nodded. “I’m sorry. I know you’re enjoying all this exploring, but I want to be in our own bed with Dexter and Dita.”

He laughed. The dogs were the closest thing to children they had and Alexandra positively doted on the animals. Well, so did he, if he was honest with himself.

“We will likely return soon. Once we reach Vanurion’s keep we will take our leave. Forgive me for keeping you from the comforts of home for so long.”

She shook her head. “It’s fine, Legolas. At least I’m with you and that’s all that truly matters.”

Legolas pulled her into his arms and kissed her then looked into her eyes.

“You know, my love, the waters here can convey immortality. You have but to drink from them.” He watched her intently for her reaction.

A hundred different emotions rushed through Alexandra’s mind as she pondered the ramifications of what Legolas had suggested. Immortality---she could be with Legolas forever. It was all she had ever desired and now the choice was before her.

She swallowed before responding. “You would desire this?” she asked in a small voice.

“I desire you above all else, my sweet wife,” he told her. “It is your choice, my love. I simply point out the possibility.”

“Oh, Legolas; you know I want to be with you forever, more than anything. It is a miracle that we are here and have this opportunity.” Still, something about the choice gave her pause.

“Lastharos drank the waters,” she murmured, “and look at him---he is insane and pure evil.”

“Why should such a monster be given immortality and you denied?” Legolas echoed Morgoth’s words, a fact that was not lost on him. His suspicions of the fallen Vala loomed in his mind.

“Perhaps he didn’t become a monster until he became immortal,” she suggested. “Maybe mortals are meant to live only a certain amount of time and then move on. If we overstay our time, something goes wrong.”

Legolas shook his head. “You will not become as Lastharos,” he told her with conviction.

“How do we know? I already have a bloodlust that can be unleashed. What else lurks inside of me? If I am immortal, I may release all of my inhibitions and indulge everything, just as he has. If I were to be immortal, would life be so precious to me as it is now? It isn’t to him.”

“You learn to control yourself; you have to. Elves are subject to the same lusts and cravings and evil, yet we learn to control them.”

“Some of you do; some of you don’t. Look at Goroth.”

“But you are not like Lastharos or Goroth. You know the difference between right and wrong; good and evil.” He gripped her shoulders and searched her gaze. “If it was not the will of Eru or the Valar, would we have been brought to this place? Now? When you are suffering despair because you fear the ravages of time on a mortal body?”

His words were so reasonable, so tempting. They could be together for eternity, what she had prayed for, desired above all else. Yet … a warning continued to sound in her mind. It was not meant to be---had it been, she would have been born immortal. Still, perhaps this was what she was meant to do; the answer to her prayers.

“Legolas … I …” She looked down at the cup he held. Oh, dear heaven, it was right there within her grasp.

“Forever, my love.” His voice was soft.

Alexandra reached out, her fingers closing around the cup.