Will of the Valar

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

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Alex felt somewhat useless as her husband and his fellow Elves, both eastern and western, discussed strategy. He had already told her he did not want her to be a part of the taking of the keep. He did not say she was forbidden to participate; just that it was not an option. They’d had a quiet, but intense discussion of the matter away from the rest of the group, and she now stood leaning against a tree sulking.

They’d walked away from the rest of the Elves for a moment of privacy, something they rarely had recently. When they left here, they would likely not get another chance to be alone until after their mission was complete. Taking her in his arms, Legolas kissed her hungrily, taking her breath away. When they reluctantly pulled apart, he looked into her eyes.

“I love you, Alexandra.”

“And I love you, Legolas.” God, but she loved him so much she felt as though her heart would burst. He was so good to her and made her feel so safe. She knew he was going to kill Goroth because of what he’d done to her and although part of her abhorred the thought of her husband killing someone in cold blood, another part felt satisfaction that he was avenging her honor. She really wanted to do it herself, but he’d made it clear she was to remain safely away from the battle.

“Please, my love. Let me come with you.” She hated to beg, but knew demands would get her nowhere.

He sighed. “I know you can fight, but I do not want you anywhere near that creature. I would feel better if you remained outside the walls until it is safe for you to join us.”

“You mean until you’ve killed Goroth.”

Her husband gave her a grim smile. “Alex, let me do my duty as your husband.” At her suggestive look, he laughed. “I mean, my other duty as your husband.” Taking her face between his hands and kissing her again, he looked deep into her eyes. “It is my responsibility to protect you, and, now, to avenge you.”

“But what about me? Do I not get to exact my own revenge? Did you not think I might need to kill him myself?”

Legolas had thought about that, and a part of him wanted to grant her wish. But his own need for vengeance was stronger, and he just kissed her again.

“We are bound. If I kill him, it is the same as you doing it,” he rationalized. It did not even make sense to him, but he hoped she would believe it.

He left her shortly thereafter to return to the planning. She’d assured him she would go no further and she was armed, so he’d reluctantly left her alone. She was trying to think of a way around Legolas’ plan to keep her from the battle when she sensed eyes upon her. She turned calmly and saw Glorfindel watching her from a few feet away.

“Did my husband send you to baby-sit me?” she asked as he approached. He was unfamiliar with the term, but got the general idea.

“Not in so many words. He simply mentioned you were alone out here. I caught his meaning.” The Elf stood next to her. “So, what do you think of our eastern kin?”

“Very pretty,” she replied. “Interesting, though. If it weren’t for the ears and the sort of glowing skin, I’d never have thought they were Elves. They seem a little … wild, I think is the word, compared to the rest of you.”

“Indeed,” he agreed. “They have been living under their own rule without the Valar for guidance for a very long time. Besides, their land is different; the Easterlings are different from the people of the west and I think they are a reflection of their culture.”

“But didn’t the Elves set the standards for culture? After all, you got here first.”

He flashed a rueful smile. “That is true. And I cannot help but think their constant struggles against---or more likely, along with---Morgoth and his evil, have changed them. But they are still our brethren.”

She noted a hint of sadness in his voice. “You don’t sound very happy.”

“Many of my people were forbidden to return to Valinor because they participated in the Kinslaying.” At her look of confusion, he explained the exile of the Noldor ages ago. “A part of me does not wish to kill Elves.”

“Do you think the Valar would deny you or any of the others entry to the Undying Lands if you were to kill Goroth or his minions?” Her stomach suddenly hurt at the thought. She could not let that happen.

The blonde Elf shook his head. “What Goroth has done goes against the teachings of the Valar. It is a just punishment, not an act of rage.”

“But Legolas is after vengeance, pure and simple,” she whispered. Clutching the Elf’s arm, she looked at him with fear-filled eyes. “If he kills Goroth or any of his followers, it will be an act of rage.”

Glorfindel knew what she was saying and gave her a calm smile. He put his arms around her and pulled her close. “Do not worry, my lady. Your prince will not be denied his place in Valinor. Neither will any of the rest of us because of what we will do here. We are meting out justice on one who has lived without it for far too long.”

Alex breathed easier upon hearing his words of comfort. She raised her head and looked into his calm, blue eyes. “Please, watch over him. He won’t let me go with him and I’m afraid he’ll get hurt.”

“Have no fear, Alexandra, your husband’s friends will not let him fall.”


The Elves traveled to a safe distance away from Goroth’s keep. True to his word Vanurion’s watchers were in place. Rumil, Orophin and the other scouts rendezvoused with the watchers and took their own positions. The twins and Saelbeth split their forces into the most effective teams for the taking of the keep. Glorfindel, Haldir and Legolas took the point position. Vanurion’s troops surrounded the keep in an outer perimeter to cut down any stragglers who might escape the western Elves’ wrath.

Alex could not see from her position. Safe meant blind, obviously. She closed her eyes and concentrated on her bond with Legolas. As long as she could feel him, he was fine. The silence surrounding the target was unbroken, although she knew Elladan, Elrohir, Saelbeth and their warriors were moving into the keep through access points identified by the eastern Elves’ maps. For what seemed like hours she could hear nothing, but could feel Legolas, strong and full of love and righteous anger. Suddenly, a faint hissing sound reached her ears. She tried to identify it when it came again, as in waves. She realized it was the sound of Elven arrows in flight. She was accustomed to the mortal way of fighting, lots of shouting, screams, explosions---even in the Mirkwood battle, while the Elves had been fairly quiet, the shrieking of the spiders, crackling of the fires and shouts of the Orc and Uruk-Hai had made the place seem like bedlam.

Here, Elves were fighting Elves and their part-mortal offspring, and the silence was unnerving. She could sense Legolas’ concentration and so she held on to the thread of their bond and began to pray without words, for the safety of her husband and their friends. So intense was her concentration it was quite some time before she became aware that someone was near her. She looked up to see Vanurion approaching her position. He sat next to her and she could see his green-gold eyes alight.

“Your husband and his brethren are impressive warriors, my lady. They breeched the keep’s walls without difficulty.”

“They’ve had a lot of practice,” she replied. The Elf was so different from the ones she was accustomed to. For one thing, he seemed to be more … of the world where as the western Elves always seemed to be above the mortal plain. True, they could be a lot of fun and when she was making love with her husband, he was very much in the world. Actually, though, the more she thought about it, being with Legolas and the others was rather like she was being taken into their world rather than them coming into hers.

“Have you been bonded with Prince Legolas long?” He seemed genuinely curious about her; although, his oddly beautiful eyes made her feel somewhat strange.

“Three years, although I’ve known him and been with him for about five.”

“Were you his concubine before becoming his wife?” He seemed not to think anything improper about the question, and she supposed, to his people, there wasn’t.

“No. We were traveling companions. What of your own wife? Was she your concubine?”

He laughed softly. “I have no bond-mate, my lady. I do have concubines, and there have been others who bore my children.”

“Oh,” she frowned. “I thought Elves didn’t have children outside of a bond. I was told …” she trailed off, unsure of how to delicately approach the topic.

“We are not the same as your husband’s kin, lady. We have been too far from the Valar for too long. We are the vanwa, the lost.” He looked down and his tone was infinitely sad. “We will fade and be no more because we cannot go to the Undying Lands. We should have gone when we had the chance, but we did not. So, we become more and more like the mortals of this land. We are carnal creatures who have diluted the blood of the Quendi because we did not know how to control our passions. Some of us have killed our own kind as well as the mortals and others who crossed our path.” He looked up and his eyes were pools of despair. “No, lady, we are nothing like the Elves of the west.”

“Surely, you can still go to the Undying Lands. The Valar would not forbid it because you became lost. My people believe that Go---Eru rejoices and welcomes each one who has been lost, but has found his or her way back to Him. And the Elves are the children of Iluvatar, so surely he will gladly welcome his lost children home.”

Vanurion studied her as she spoke. Her words were unlike any he’d heard before from a mortal. “Your people must be close to the Valar if they believe such.”

She smiled. “Some of them are, I suppose. But don’t despair. There is always hope for all of Eru’s children.” Again, as had happened a few short years ago, she felt as though Galadriel was speaking to her mind, telling her what to say. She didn’t question it. Stranger things had happened to her in Middle Earth.

He smiled. “Would you like to see how the battle goes?”

“Oh, you know I would. But my husband gave me strict instructions that I was to stay here, protected by your people.”

“And do you always do as you are told?” His eyes, so recently full of sadness now twinkled with mischief.

A matching grin spread slowly over her face. “No, I do not.”

She followed him toward the keep. She hadn’t realized they were so far from it. Damn, but the Elves had good eyes to be able to pull off storming a keep from this distance. They passed the first bodies of almost a quarter of a mile inside the perimeter.

“Goroth’s whelps,” Vanurion said, glancing at the sightless corpse of a young woman sprawled across that of a man. His easy dismissal of the bodies seemed quite callous to Alex, but she said nothing. These Eastern Elves were complex.

The smell of blood began to call to her; the sharp, coppery scent of mortals mixed with the slightly sweet, fresh scent of Elven blood stirred the desire in her to hunt. Either that, or there was something else here.

The sight of Goroth’s keep was impressive. It was a massive structure and there were definitely Elvish designs in the architecture. It was not as elegant as the architecture of Rivendell or as natural as that of Caras Galadhon or Mirkwood, but one could see the influences of Elvish design. She saw more bodies and looked for signs of Elven armor. Thankfully, there were none outside the walls of the keep.

When they got inside, the picture looked much more grim. Black-clad bodies were clearly the majority, but she also saw some of Legolas’ company among the fallen. She looked for signs of life among the western Elves, but found none. Several, she noticed were Mirkwood archers she remembered from their battle with Maelweth.

Suddenly, a steel vise caught her arm and flung her to the side. She turned and saw Vanurion swinging at one of Goroth’s force, his blade slashing the throat of the other Elf---half-elf?---who had almost taken her own head.

“Apparently, there are some who still resist,” he commented. Looking at her, he was surprised to see her draw her sword. He’d thought it was just for ceremonial purposes.

They covered the courtyard area with no sign of Legolas. She managed to find a couple of her Elven comrades who were injured but still living. One advantage of letting her darker side take over, she could see even minute signs of life in potential prey. She examined them for spinal injuries, then lifted them easily, moving them to a large empty room, which looked like it might have held armament at some point, where they were relatively safe.

“Are there any healers among your people?” she asked Vanurion. He nodded. “Get them to that room so they can start treating the injuries. I can’t find the ones from our people yet.” He smiled at her tone of authority and grabbed one of his warriors, giving him orders to find the healers.

As she encountered more of Legolas’ kin who were injured, she directed them to the area set aside for tending to the wounded and asked that those who could, assist the ones who were unable to make it on their own. She found Elladan driving his sword into the chest of a very large and very angry man---she could tell by the smell of his blood. He was surprised to see her and she told him about the infirmary and he nodded his approval.

“I will find the healers and send them there when we can.” She started off and he grabbed her arm. “Legolas will be furious if he sees you here. You should be ---“

“Where? Hiding like a frightened child? No, Elladan. I am tired of Elves having to save me from one thing or another.” She met his gaze and he nodded in understanding. She smiled and continued her search for fallen comrades and for her husband. As she rounded the corner the son of Elrond pondered the darkness he thought he’d seen in her eyes. He could have sworn she had green eyes, but they looked almost black when she’d looked at him.

Saelbeth rounded the curve of the stairs just above her and merely raised an eyebrow as he passed her. “North tower,” he called over his shoulder, knowing whom she sought. She immediately took the hallway to her left at the top of the stairs and mentally viewed the maps from the previous day. Fortunately, her memory for detail did not fail her and she found her way to the part of the keep that housed the north tower.

The sounds of steel on steel were not as loud here. Looking out of a window, she saw a host of black-clad bodies sprawled across the roofs and courtyards and walls of the keep. But there were quite a few in the silver and gold tinged armor of the Elves of the west, as well. She prayed they were only injured. She began searching through the rooms----luckily there were few bodies here. She came across Rumil, holding his left arm against his body while his right swung in a killing blow across the chest of the eastern Elf at his feet.

Alex saw his shoulder was dislocated and, having suffered the same injury in the past, knew it was easier for someone else to reposition it than to do it on one’s own. “Ready?” she asked. He nodded and she swiftly popped the shoulder back into place. The only sign of discomfort was a slight intake of breath. He nodded his thanks and told her he’d last seen Legolas running up the stairs. She told him about the triage area and he went in search of wounded Elves.

Racing up the stairs, she finally found herself in a large room with a short flight of steps leading up to what had to be the watchtower. Legolas was fighting two of ‘Goroth’s whelps’ and Goroth himself. His twin knives moved faster than her eye could follow as he dodged their blows and twisted away from almost certain death. A large opening, like a balcony, was between her and the combatants and she could not find a point across. To her horror, one of the fallen eastern Elves struggled to his feet and moved toward Legolas and his attackers. The Elf was armed with another of the deadly curved blades and had a clear shot at Legolas.

Looking around she spotted a bow that looked familiar and sheathed her sword. Picking it up she realized it was Legolas’ bow, the one given to him by Galadriel during the journey of the Ring. Likely, he’d run out of arrows and she snatched one out of a body.

“You know you can’t shoot---,” a voice began in her head and she just ignored it. She fitted the arrow against the string and prayed her left hand was in the correct position, drawing it back and sighting the first black-clad figure she saw closest to her husband. “Help me,” she whispered and let go.

The arrow disappeared; she lost sight of it as she focused on Legolas and prayed. She was vaguely aware of two armor-clad Elves at her side, then the arrow appeared in the throat of one of the three eastern Elves desperately trying to kill her husband. She swore in frustration, then saw two more arrows taking down one of the other Elves and the one who was lifting his sword behind Legolas’ head. Goroth, however, remained standing and leapt onto the stairs as another two arrows barely missed him. He disappeared up the steps, Legolas on his heels.

Alex turned around, trying not to scream her irritation to the world. “Where’s the damned way across?” she shouted, picking up one of the large stone urns against the wall and throwing it forcefully against the stairs across the room where it shattered. She ignored the Elves---couldn’t even tell who they were and, looking at the stairs her husband had just climbed, turned and, after a running start, leapt, fairly flying across the vast hole in the center of the room, and landing solidly on the other side. She ran up the stairs and out onto the roof of the tower.

Haldir and Orophin exchanged looks of surprise. “I thought she could not use a bow,” Haldir said.

“She cannot,” his brother replied, still trying to decide if his eyes had deceived him. They turned and ran from the room to the hidden balcony that was located down the hall, leading to the opposite gallery and the stairs to the roof.