Something Evil This Way Comes

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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They arrived at one of the various dinners being held for the visiting dignitaries just in time to be seated, having lost track of time, as they always did when involved with their favorite pastime. They said the right things, smiled at the appropriate times, and generally managed to appear engaged with their companions. Their eyes, however, kept meeting down the table, and when they happened to pass by each other, they would touch each other; sometimes just the fingertips, but always made some sort of contact. Though they did nothing overt, those who happened to catch their intimate moments had no doubt the prince and his lady were very much in love.

After an appropriate length of time, they made their way into one of the gardens. Walking along the path hand in hand, they enjoyed the quiet under the stars. Reaching a hidden alcove, they sat down on the bench and Legolas put his arm around her.

“You’d never know we were in the same place,” she said. “It’s so peaceful out here.”

“Well, we’re here to witness the signing of a peace treaty. One would think it should be peaceful everywhere.”

They sat silently for a while. He could see something was troubling his wife and he kissed her forehead gently.

“What is it, my love?”

“Meriel says Charika may not be able to deliver the child.”

Legolas frowned. “Then, she and the babe would both be lost.”

She nodded. “She also told me … Elves can sense the baby, if they are looking for it.”

Legolas sighed. “Yes.”

“Did you know?”

“No. Not until you told me. I did not look for a child.”

“What about Rumil? Is it possible he will know?”

Her husband thought for a moment. “It is possible, of course.”

“Then, he may already know. Damn Lastharos and his megalomania!”

Legolas started to answer when he looked into the shadows a short way down the path. Someone was there.

“Forgive me. I did not mean to overhear your conversation, but I did not wish to interrupt your time together.” Vanurion, the leader of the Eastern Elves of Rhun stepped into the open. He was as handsome as Alex remembered: silky, black hair; fair skin with a golden glow; almond-shaped, slightly uptilted eyes which shifted between gold, green and blue; and that tall, perfect body all Elves, east or west, shared.

Legolas smiled. “No apologies are necessary, my friend. But, you did hear something rather sensitive.”

“The child or Lastharos?”

Legolas and Alex looked at him sharply.

“You know Lastharos?” the prince asked.

Vanurion shook his head. “I know of him. Even Goroth found him reprehensible.”

“How bad can this guy be?” Alex wondered aloud.

“Bad,” the Elves said simultaneously.

“I take it the issue of the child is not common knowledge,” Vanurion continued.

“No. It is a long, complicated story and I do not wish to betray the privacy of those involved. But suffice it to say, there are complications surrounding the babe.” Legolas wished the involved couple would resolve the issue themselves.

Vanurion bowed in acquiescence. “Believe me, my friend; my people are intimately acquainted with complicated births.”

“You know,” Alex said slowly, “You would be someone Rumil could talk to. That is, if Charika ever tells him about this.”

“I would, of course, be happy to be of any assistance to our friend,” the eastern Elf said with a smile.

“So, what do you know about Lastharos?” Legolas was curious about his and Charika’s tormentor.

“As I said, I do not know him. But I have heard stories of him from those of our extended kin who have dealings with Khand.”

“He said he had never seen a western Elf,” Legolas said absently. “But he did not seem to know much about your people. He said Elves were ‘said to be in Rhun’.”

“I do not believe he has had dealings with any of the Elves. However, as you know, we have many mortals counted among our offspring, and some of them have done business with him.”

Neither Legolas nor Alexandra were anxious to know what kind of ‘business’ Goroth’s minions may have had with Lastharos, although both admitted to themselves the were curious.

Vanurion smiled as if he could sense their morbid curiosity.

“The reports we received of the man were that he is ruthless, efficient, intelligent, and completely without conscience. Slaves do not last in his service, as he is said to torture, abuse and kill them for his pleasure. Many stories of his atrocities and debaucheries have been told; I will not go into them. They say he keeps the slave merchants in business when he is not just taking prisoners from the territory he conquers. He has expanded Khand’s power even further east. He is also said to be quite influential with the Haradrim.”

“It is also said he is quite old, for a mortal---at least 800 years. There is a rumor he has Elvish blood, but others say it is the blood of the Ainur.” The eastern Elf laughed. “I do not know the veracity of any of the rumors, but he is definitely … interesting.”

“What’s an Ainur?”

The Elves looked at Alex in surprise. “It is similar to a Vala,” Legolas said. “I will explain it later.”

She shrugged. Whatever he was, he was bad news.

“Tell me, Legolas; how did you come to know of him?”

The prince’s expression was grim. “I inadvertently made his acquaintance when he came after someone else.”

“And you survived? Did you kill him? Those whom he ensnares rarely escape.” He gazed appraisingly at his western cousin. “And such a fair Elf as yourself would be quite a prize to him.”

His words echoed those of the Khandun and Legolas felt an involuntary chill.

“Prize?” Alex asked, aware of her husband’s reaction. He had told her of Lastharos’ brutality to him, but not much else.

“He is a ‘collector’,” Vanurion replied. “He enjoys beautiful things; especially if it is something he believes he can corrupt. I do not mean to be indelicate, my lady, but I would say your husband is quite fortunate he escaped Lastharos’ clutches. No doubt he would have had a most unpleasant fate, especially for an Elf of the west.”

Alex caught his meaning and clutched Legolas’ arm. The thought of anyone laying a hand on her husband in violence, while angering her to the extreme, was something she understood; he was an Elven warrior and they lived in a violent world. But to think her beloved may have been forced to undergo the same sort of treatment as Charika, or like she herself had suffered at the hands of Goroth, filled her with white-hot fury. She knew how being taken by force was a death-sentence to the Firstborn; she would make the death of anyone who even thought to do such a thing to her husband extremely painful, extremely degrading, and extremely slow.

Legolas sensed her rising anger, and placed his hand over hers in a calming gesture. She consciously made the effort to slow her breathing. The Eastern Elf bowed.

“My apologies, Alexandra. I did not mean for my words to cause you distress; only to serve as a warning about the type of man you are dealing with.” He turned his greenish-gold gaze to Legolas. “If you have need of me or my people in dealing with this creature, you have but to say the word. We stand by you.”

“Thank you, my friend,” Legolas said with sincerity. “It gladdens my heart to know we have friends in the East, as well as kin.”

Later, as they lay in bed, Alex watched her husband sleep. He looked so young and so perfect. She knew she would soon begin to look more like his mother than his lover and wondered if her feelings would change as she aged and he remained timelessly beautiful. Her protective instincts were already in overdrive. She tried to sleep, but worry about her beloved caused her rest to be broken, and uncharacteristically, she arose before her husband when the first grays of dawn began to lighten the sky.


Rumil knew something was bothering Charika, but did not know how to bring it up. She had been somewhat withdrawn for the past few days, so he knew it was not something that had happened in Minas Tirith or on the journey here. After dinner that evening, he had returned to Berrien’s house, where he was staying with his lady, and found her already abed. Removing his tunic and pulling off his boots, he lay next to her and watched her as she slept.

He concentrated on his lover and searched for a sense of her. If they had become bound, it would have been simple; but he had been hesitant to commit to a mortal, knowing she would likely die before he did, and would not be able to go to Valinor with him. He did not know how Legolas had found the courage to do it, though the happiness he shared with Alexandra certainly seemed worth the heavy price he would be forced to pay later when he watched his wife leave Arda---and him---behind, and go to the fate known only to Eru. Then, later, he would cross the sea without her and dwell forever in the Undying Lands with a severed bond.

Rumil loved Charika, but did not believe he could bind himself to her. He was already anticipating his own sorrow when she would die and it was heartbreaking as it was; to lose a bondmate would be even worse.

She sighed in her sleep and turned onto her back, and his eyes traveled over her lush curves. She had not been eating much lately, and he had noticed her trying to be quiet as she gagged some mornings. For someone who was not keeping her food down, however, she maintained her voluptuous figure. In fact, it looked as though her bosom had become even fuller and her hips a little rounder.

An unease crept into his mind and, against his wishes, he concentrated on her being. His heart felt cold when he realized there was another presence in the bed with them. Ai, Elbereth! She was with child. He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the knowledge, but it was too late. Did she know? She had said nothing to him.

Of course she had not. It was not his child. Had she lain with anyone else? Surely, she had remained true to him in Ithilien. But a nagging voice reminded him she was, at heart, a concubine, accustomed to serving the needs of her lord and his friends. But who among the Elves would have joined with her, knowing she was his … what? His lover? He had bedded the lovers of his brothers and friends, though only with their knowledge and consent. Who would have taken her without his knowledge?

The insidious thought rose to his consciousness. She was alone and naked with Legolas in the prison. Perhaps she had turned to him for comfort …

No. Legolas would not have betrayed his own bond with Alexandra.

Lastharos. He had brutalized her. Was it possible his poisonous seed had taken root in her belly and was even now growing into some sort of monster? Suddenly, he could no longer breathe. He had to get away and think. He could not discuss this with her yet. What if she were unaware? He needed to talk to someone. He knew Haldir and Meriel were at some gathering of other East Lorien and Mirkwood Elves, but he thought he had seen Orophin with Vanurion heading toward the tents of the Eastern Elves out on the practice field. He would seek his advice.


Orophin reclined on the cushions in Vanurion’s large, opulent tent, enjoying the feel of the elleth’s mouth as she followed the unfastening of each of the catches in his tunic with a soft caress of her tongue against the flesh of his chest; then his stomach, as the next fastening was loosened; then his lower belly as she finished opening the garment and pulled it back, exposing his fair, muscular torso. She moved back to kiss him deeply, her talented tongue meeting it’s match in skill.

She deftly unlaced his leggings, unclasping his belt and peeling the front down just enough to expose his not inconsiderable desire. As her tongue teased one of his nipples, her long, smooth fingers grasped him, stroking him slowly. He was glad he had accompanied their eastern cousin back to the Rhunian Elves’ tents. The giggling maids he had bedded the previous evening had been enthusiastic, but lacked the refinement he found in the elegant arms of a she-Elf.

His host lay on the other side of the tent, an elleth sitting astride him, her hips moving slowly as Vanurion caressed her full, bare breasts. The leader of the eastern Elves had seen the tension in the Lorien Warden and could sense Orophin’s unanswered need. He had suggested the other Elf come back to their encampment for some Rhunian wine and convivial company. The haughty reserve of the western Elf relaxed a bit and they soon found themselves in their present, pleasant situation.

The she-Elves of the East were more aggressive than their western sisters, and so had no hesitation when presented with two handsome Elven males who were obviously in a state of frustrated desire. Orophin, with his fair complexion and hair of silver and spun gold was quite an exotic treat for the Rhunian elleth. His perfect features and unapproachable demeanor made him even more desirable. Thus, he got his first taste of eastern pleasure.

Sweet Luthien, but she knew exactly how to drive him to the brink, then pull him back, leaving him wanting more. She brought him to his peak with her mouth, then settled herself onto his lap, sighing as he filled her completely. He looked down as her taut, light golden belly pressed against his fair, hard-muscled one. The contrast was oddly exciting and he ran his hands over her thighs before grasping her hips and rolling over so that he was above her.

She laughed and pulled his head down so her mouth could fasten to his and her legs wrapped high around his back, holding him as he drove into her body. Oh, but this fair Elf had much power in him and she shivered with delight as the first tide of ecstasy broke over her body. She cried out and he thrust himself deep, keeping the pressure against her grinding hips as his own wave of pleasure crashed over him. His mouth caressed hers as they slowly relaxed and he moved off of her, lying on his back beside the elleth as they both regained their composure.

Vanurion and his companion had also reached their climax and she lay with her head on his flat belly, a goblet of wine shared between them. The Rhunian Elf glanced at Orophin and smiled.

“Do you feel better, my friend?”

“Much,” he answered. He reached over and gathered the she-Elf into his arms and she nestled against him, closing her eyes. She had been quite a pleasant partner and he would not mind joining with her again momentarily. Both couples rested in companionable silence, the sound of music drifting through the camp giving dimension to the quiet.

A voice outside the tent some moments later caught the ears of both Elves, the elleth having drifted off into satisfied slumber.

“Vanurion, one of the western Elves is here to see you.”

“Enter,” he called, not bothering to cover himself or his partner. Orophin sat up as he recognized his brother. He could tell something was wrong.

“Rumil. What has happened?” He could see pain and confusion in his brother’s eyes and was immediately on guard, ready to vent his wrath on whoever had hurt the youngest of the brothers.

“Forgive my intrusion, Vanurion. I---I need to speak with my brother.”

“Of course, my friend. And it is no intrusion. You are always welcome in our midst.” He could see the young Elf’s anguish and wondered if it had anything to do with the topic of his earlier conversation with Prince Legolas and his lady.

Orophin quickly readjusted his clothing and, kissing the she-Elf goodbye, bowed respectfully to his host.

“Thank you, my friend. You have given me respite from my cares.”

“You are quite welcome, Orophin. You know you need not stand on ceremony with us. Come and go among us as you please.”

They said their farewells and Orophin followed his brother back toward the palace. They found an empty room in one of the side hallways, and, closing the door behind them, he turned to Rumil with concern.

“Tell me, brother. What has happened to cause you such distress?”

“Charika carries a babe.”

“You have shared your seed with her?” Orophin was surprised; after their conversation on the way to the prison, he had not thought his brother would take that step.

“No,” Rumil said bitterly. “It is not mine.”

Orophin did not know what to say. Usually, the anticipation of a birth was a cause for joy among the Eldar. For his brother’s lover to be carrying the child of another, however, was not something to celebrate.

“Do you know whose child grows in her womb?” His voice was calm, but he shared Rumil’s disquiet. Surely, Charika had not been unfaithful to him; and the other Elves knew she was the lover of his brother so they would not have lain with her without his consent.

“I believe it to be the man who raped her. Lastharos.”

Orophin sighed as he mulled over the information.

“Did she say the babe was his?” Even though such a thought was abominable, it was preferable, in a way, to her having been unfaithful to their relationship.

“We have not spoken of it.”

“Then how---?”

“I sensed the babe as I concentrated on Charika, trying to discover if she were ill. She has not been eating much and vomits what little she does have in the morning. Looking back, the signs were there; I just did not know to look for a child.” Rumil looked at him with pain-filled eyes. “Why would she not share this with me?”

“Perhaps she is afraid,” Orophin said quietly.

“Of what? That I might beat her? Or desert her? That I might be hurt or angry? Yes, I am both; but I am hurt and angry because she did not trust me enough to tell me.”

“Perhaps she does not know herself.”

Rumil shook his head. “With the symptoms and her recent withdrawal, I believe she does. She just chose to keep it secret.” His voice was filled with regret. “I thought she loved me.”

“She does. She loves you the only way she knows how. Just because it is not how you think her love should be expressed, it does not invalidate the emotion. Remember, she comes from a different background; she has likely never been truly loved by anyone and so, probably, does not know how to express it in return, except by being your devoted mistress. It may be that she fears to tell you of the child because she does not want to hurt you, or lose your love.”

“She could never lose my love,” his brother said in a shocked tone.

“Yet, you are angry about this child.”

“Of course I am angry! The thing she carries in her womb is the spawn of that vile creature I have sworn to kill.”

“Listen to yourself,” Orophin said softly. “That is why she has not spoken of it with you; that is what she fears.”

“But, why should she wish to carry the child of that … man? Especially after her treatment at his hands. This babe is the product of abuse and terrible rape.”

“This babe is also the product of the woman you say you love.”

”I do love her!”

“Then you will not punish her because she is pregnant.”

”I am not punishing her!”

“If you punish her child, you are punishing her.” Orophin put his arm around his brother. “I am not saying you must embrace her child as your own; but it is being nurtured by her body and it will be her offspring. You cannot blame the babe for its parentage.”

“But … what if she does not want the child either?”

His brother sighed. “It is her responsibility; and as her mate, you share it. If you choose to abandon her … I do not know what to say; that will be up to you.”

Rumil looked as though his world had been crushed. He turned his agonized gaze to his brother. “If it were Alexandra, and she were yours, what would you do?”

O, Eru! He did not want to think about Alexandra being his, even in an imaginary sense. But, his brother had asked and he needed to take the question seriously. He considered the situation.

“I would love and support her. I would treat her child as the individual that it is, and try to do all I could for it. I cannot say I would love it, but perhaps that would come with time. In any case, I would do all that I could to stand with her against whatever trials she faced. Bearing the child of someone who took you by force cannot be easy. It would not even happen to one of our kind. Yet mortal women are forced to endure it more often than we would like to admit.”

His youngest brother nodded. “I shall do what I can for Charika. But I cannot promise to love her child. I would not mistreat it, though.”

“Just let her know you do not judge her and you will be there for her.”

“Thank you, Orophin. I … simply needed to talk to you. It helps to speak of my fears and concerns.”

Orophin walked with his brother to the house on the palace grounds where Rumil and Charika were staying. After parting company, he thought a moment, then returned to Vanurion’s tent. The eastern Elf leader and the two elleth welcomed him back with enthusiasm, and the remainder of his night passed pleasantly.

Rumil undressed and climbed into bed with Charika. She opened her eyes briefly and smiled as he gathered her into his arms. He returned her smile and kissed her gently, then held her as she drifted back into slumber.