Gifts 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.
*****************************

Erestor and Durisia, and to a lesser extent, Cunion, spent their days sorting through the tremendous piles of documents. It would take years---centuries, possibly---to make it through them and catalogue them properly. Erestor was immersed in the work and Durisia, while no less enthusiastic, had to remind him to eat, drink, sleep, and move about at times. Her background and culture, while still quite disciplined, was somewhat more balanced than Erestor’s had been, and, for good or bad, she believed in the value of taking breaks and relaxing in the midst of tasks.

She stood at the window, looking out across the plains to the distant mountains that were near the shores of the Sea of Rhun, musing on the weeks she had spent with the Noldo. He had been quite reserved when they first met, and almost excruciatingly proper. She had respected his attitude and did not attempt to lead him into any undignified situations, thinking he would be offended. He had surprised her, however, with his wit and some of his commentary on the documents and situations as he began telling her of his past and learning of hers.

She envied him having had such an interesting life. She felt hers quite dull and insignificant, stuck here in the mountains of Rhun, a minor member of Vanurion’s household, content to do her duty; fighting when necessary, but, for the most part, remaining in the library, studying, learning, cataloging. When Goroth had been overthrown a few years earlier, Sarendir had presented her with wagonloads of papers from Goroth’s own libraries and told her there were more still there. She had been wading through the documents on her own and when Erestor had expressed an interest, was grateful for his assistance.

When the western Elf had begun working with her, she had been amazed at how much quicker the work had gone. His millennia of experience in such matters showed as he quickly set up a cataloguing system that was a more streamlined version of hers. She thought it kind of him that he did not simply set up a new system; but kept the same one she had devised; he just made it more efficient.

They had been working one day and he was reading a document which referred to a creature he was unfamiliar with as having been instrumental in a battle. She had not understood the word, as the letter was quite old and the ink somewhat smudged, and had come to look over his shoulder to see what he was trying to decipher. Between the two of them, they finally figured out what was being said, although some of their speculative guesses were quite amusing. She was still chuckling when she turned to say something to him and realized how exquisitely beautiful he was. Eyes of deep, forest green met those of midnight blue and something unspoken passed between them: the acknowledgement of a kinship, recognition of something long sought---neither knew and neither tried to identify it; they simply accepted it.

It was still some time before they finally lay together. She had found him quite proper and consciously worked to see if she could get him to relax a bit. She had heard his friend, Glorfindel, telling him to do so on several occasions. She gently teased him about being so correct all the time and one day, in the library, he had simply walked up behind her, wrapped his arms around her, tilted her head back and kissed her.

She had been shocked, but delighted and had reached up, wrapping her fingers in his silky black hair and held him close. The kiss deepened and he gently turned her body to face his, her arms wrapping around him. No words were spoken and he had joined with her on the long backless couch that had become their favorite place to simply relax. Since that day, they had spent every waking moment together, either working or relaxing, and each night resting in each other’s arms. She was afraid she was becoming attached to her western lover and dreaded the day when he would leave.

She felt, rather than heard, Erestor’s approach. He rested his hands lightly on her shoulders.

“You are sad,” he said; not a question.

“No, my lord,” she said with a smile, turning to face him. “I simply think on how many of my kin died here because of Goroth’s stupid pride. We could have been so much better; we could have been … like your people.”

He felt a sadness pass over him, but managed to smile. “My people are not without fault, make no mistake. My kindred have also committed horrible acts against our own.”

She looked at him skeptically. “Your people are beloved by the Valar, my lord. Whatever you did could not be so bad.”

He gave a small smile. “Remind me to sit down with you and Glorfindel and we will tell you of the quest of the silmarils.”

“I shall look forward to it,” she replied. “Now, my lord, let us empty this new box Haldir recently brought us. She knelt beside the box carried in from yet another of the dungeon offices. She wondered, in passing, if keeping meticulous records was something peculiarly Elven or if mortals did the same.

The box seemed to be full of maps and atlases and journals or travelogues. She began sorting them, not really studying them, but taking in enough to know the general area where each belonged. Erestor picked up the first stack and began sorting it further.

He was skimming over a map when he thought he saw Helcarin’s name and the word Cuivienen caught his eye. He focused. There it was; the name of the place which legend named as the Waters of the Awakening, where Elves first awoke under the stars. It was located somewhere on the shores of the Sea of … Helcar.

He felt a chill and re-examined the map. It showed a northern sea, further east, near the Orocarni range. Legend had it that Illuin, one of the Lamps of the Valar, which had brought the first light to the world, had stood there and when it fell, destroyed by Melkor, it created the sea. The Lamps of the Valar had been destroyed at least three ages before the First Age.

He looked through the journals, trying to find one which coincided with the map, but could not find one in the stack he had brought to the desk.

“Durisia,” he called, surprised that his voice remained so calm as his excitement grew. “We need to find the journal that accompanied this map.”

She rose from where she was sorting through the box and looked at the scroll. It was very old and parts of it had already begun to disintegrate. She did not know why the map was so important to Erestor, but read over it quickly then began going through journals looking for any of the key words. She and Erestor spent the rest of the day going through every journal they could find and she finally forced him to bed after midnight.

“They will bring more up tomorrow; Sarendir says there are hidden rooms all through the dungeons and there is much of the keep still unexplored.” He admitted the wisdom of her words and turned over, wrapping his arms around her, the elleth’s back nestled against him, and he forced himself to drift into sleep so he would be alert on the morrow.

He had not mentioned his discovery to Helcarin or Glorfindel and a part of him wanted to keep it from his son. He knew it was a selfish desire; he did not want Helcarin to remain in Middle-Earth after his fathers departed for Valinor, and a part of him felt certain that once they left, they would never see their son again, not even in the Undying Lands. He told himself he was simply waiting until he had solid facts to present to them; but Erestor was honest enough with himself to know better.

The next morning Erestor asked that any journals anywhere in the keep be brought to the library as soon as they were found as he was working on a theory that might prove useful. Glorfindel knew his old friend well enough to be certain there was more behind his request than a simple “theory”. However, the Elf Lord did not press him. He knew Erestor would tell them in time; he liked to have facts before presenting his case.

Durisia and Erestor joined the others in searching the keep. He searched with the other Elves in the dungeons while Durisia accompanied Pomea, Charika and Alex in hunting through the rooms of the towers. The females remembered seeing journals and other documents while going through in search of more pleasant prey, and so they took every scrap of documentation from the various chambers, to the library.

Alex could not read much of the texts, as most were written in ancient Quenya. For all she knew, they could be laundry lists, recipes, or Elven erotica. That last brought a smile to her lips as she pondered just what kind of format Elven pornography might take. Their language was so beautiful and formal and even the ‘naughty’ songs her husband’s kin sometimes sang when relaxed and indulging in strong wine, sounded far too beautiful and dignified to be considered ‘inappropriate’. In the east, however, she somehow had less of a problem imagining what some of their ‘pillow books’ might look like. Charika noticed her far away smile and raised a brow. Alex laughed and shook her head.

“Just daydreaming,” she said.

Once the papers began flowing into the library, Erestor and Durisia again began going through them. Knowing they were looking for something specific made the work go quickly so the backlog of documents did not become unmanageable. It did, however, become quite large and more rooms were set aside for the scrolls, books and loose papers. Durisia and Erestor became even more reclusive than before and the others saw less of them than before this latest quest.


With her increasing skill in self-defense, Charika seemed to be gaining in self-confidence. She was still somewhat timid, but no longer clung to Rumil as if for dear life, and he was both happy and a bit melancholy. Of course, he was overjoyed to see his lady becoming whole again, but admitted to himself he missed, just a bit, her almost complete dependence on him. He knew it was unfair of him, and not a little bit selfish; but he also knew it was natural and accepted that he would feel a touch of loss as she once again regained some independence. Still, he was more than willing to sacrifice a bit of ego for her happiness.

One evening, when most of the dungeons had been cleared and some of the Elves, including Rumil, had gone out hunting, but had not yet returned, Charika found herself with nothing to occupy her time. Pomea had joined the hunting party, and Alexandra had volunteered to stand watch, at least until the others returned.

She considered going out to where Alexandra, Orophin and some of Sarendir’s Elves waited on the wall, but the winds were becoming chilly in the evening and she found them uncomfortable. Durisia, Erestor and Cunion were completely absorbed in their tasks and since she could not read Elvish, she was of no real use to them.

She sat on the couch in the room where they spent most of their time after dinner. A fire was crackling in the hearth, but she did not feel warm. In fact, it felt as though the keep was growing colder. She wrapped up in one of the beautiful cloaks she had found in one of their ‘treasure hunts’, as Alexandra called them, and gazed into the fire, her mind drifting.

There was much she did not remember about what had happened to her after … after something had come for her in the darkness one night in Ithilien. She remembered having lain with her lord that night, and then he had gone to take watch. She had fallen into a comfortable sleep as she always did after his visits, and then---. That was where things became confusing.

She remembered being afraid; remembered pain and not being able to breathe. Then, there was nothing but darkness and terror and agony. She had brief memories of Legolas trying to protect her from the one she feared; but he was just as much at the beautiful creature’s mercy as she. From there, she had brief memories of Rumil holding her and then of episodes of sheer terror. She did not remember coming to Rhun, but it seemed natural that she be here, and she did not remember much about her stay, only that she had been frightened and in pain and her new masters---no, they were Rhunian Elves, her protectors, not masters---had tried to soothe her fears and ease her pain. Then Rumil had come for her and she knew nothing but happiness and love and safety in his embrace. His brothers, his friends---they were pleasant to her and she felt safe with them; yet it was in his arms where she felt at home.

She still … saw things, heard things. Sometimes she felt as though there were eyes on her when no one was around. Sometimes she thought she heard her name being called when she was alone. Sometimes, she could swear someone touched her, a hand brushing over her breast, fingertips trailing along her cheek, a body pressing against hers---when there were none near her.

The others did not seem to notice these things and when she felt them, she did not say anything, for she had found they were distressed by her words and could not find any intruders or any reason she would be feeling what she did. Sometimes she caught Helcarin and Glorfindel watching her and wondered if perhaps they saw whatever it was that was making her feel as though someone was always with her.

The magnificent monster no longer visited her dreams, not since Rumil had come to her. The Elf kept him at bay and she began to wonder if she had imagined him. But he seemed so real; he had to be a true memory, not just an illusion. But … something watched her and she did not know what it was.

The cocoon of warmth inside the cloak and the radiant heat of the fire were lulling her into relaxation. She stared at the flames, watching as occasional sparks rose in the chimney. The fires were more for her and Alexandra since the Elves were not bothered by the chilled air. She was grateful for their thoughtfulness and again wondered how her people could have been so terrified of such caring beings.

She caught movement out of the corner of her eye near the doorway into the hall and thought perhaps one of the Elves had walked by.

“Durisia?” she called, but heard no reply. “Cunion? Erestor?” Still no answer. She felt a chill that had nothing to do with the weather. She knew the Elves would not have ignored her voice, and they would certainly have heard her---their hearing was far superior to a mortal’s. She suddenly became aware of the utter silence of the mammoth building, even the crackling of the fire seemingly hushed.

She felt her palms begin to sweat a bit and swallowed. She should go to the library where the others were. They would not mind having her sitting quietly in a corner and at least she would not be alone with the growing shadows as the twilight deepened. She did not, however, wish to seem foolish and frightened. She knew the others thought her helpless and fragile, though Pomea and Alexandra tried to make her feel better with their encouragement of her learning the art of arms. Rumil and the other Elves, however, saw her as something delicate which needed protection and though it might satisfy their sense of honor, it was also, pretty much, an accurate perception.

For all of her progress with the weapons, she was still insecure away from her lord. The things that had happened to her in her past did not help her to find confidence in her current position, and she found she was unable to move. She wanted to go to the library, but could not seem to force herself to rise from the couch. She had not lit candles and the shadows in the corners were growing as the light from the setting sun waned. She could not even call out again; her voice seemed to have left her and so she sat, frozen, silent and very much afraid.

She had no idea how long she remained motionless on the couch. Eventually she became aware of the faint sounds of the fire, distant wind rattling the shutters of the building and a lessening of the chill in the room. She began to relax and thought to herself how silly her fear had been. She had simply let her own mind terrify her. Pomea or Alexandra, in her position, would have gone to the hall to see if there had indeed been someone there. At the very least, they would have been able to go to the library for the comfort of contact with others, not sat like a statue, too scared to move.

The sounds of footsteps, doors opening, and horses hooves came to her, announcing the return of the hunting party. Rumil and Haldir came into the room and her heart leapt at the sight of her lord and she jumped up and ran to him. He laughed and wrapped his arms around her and she immediately felt safe and secure. She grabbed his cheeks between her palms and kissed him almost desperately.

Rumil held her close and when the kiss ended chuckled. “Well, that is quite a welcome home, my sweet. I take it you missed me?”

“Indeed, my lord,” she said with a smile. She saw the others bringing in dressed meat and added, “I see you were successful.”

“If there is game to be found, Elves are always successful,” Haldir replied as he tossed his leather gauntlets and cape onto a nearby table and poured himself and his brother a goblet of wine, arching a brow at Charika, who declined the offer with a smile.

“Then I shall go and see to the preparation,” she said. “I am so happy you are home, my lord,” she whispered, again kissing him before joining Legolas, Pomea and Sarendir in the kitchen.

Helcarin and Glorfindel had watched Charika as they hung their cloaks in the hall.

“Something is bothering the lady,” Helcarin said and his father nodded.

“She seemed most relieved to see us return.” Glorfindel went to the library where Erestor, Cunion and Durisia had concentrated the journals. They acknowledged his entrance with distracted glances.

“Did anything unusual happen while we were out?” he asked, picking up a book at random, replacing it quickly at Erestor’s frown.

“Not to my knowledge,” his friend replied.

“We have been in here all day---Erestor is quite the taskmaster,” Cunion added with a slight smile.

“Why?” Durisia asked, looking up. “Is something wrong?”

Glorfindel shook his head. “Charika simply seemed somewhat agitated upon our return and there was a lingering trace of … something not quite right, in the air. I wondered if any of you had sensed anything amiss.”

Erestor thought. “No, but to be honest, my friend, I have been concentrating on the task at hand.”

“Warg could have run through the room and I do not believe Erestor would have noticed,” Durisia said with a smile. Knowing his friend’s formidable powers of concentration, Glorfindel had no doubt her words were true.

“Is she alright?” Cunion asked, setting aside the box he was searching and starting to rise.

“The lady seems in quite good health,” Glorfindel said, waving him back to his work. “I simply thought you might have noticed anything … off.”

“If she was uncomfortable she had but to call to us and we would have been at her side immediately,” Erestor reasoned. “She did not say anything of which I am aware and,” he added, seeing the mischievous glance Durisia and Glorfindel exchanged, “I can assure you, a call for help, even I would have noticed.”

Glorfindel nodded. “Likely, it is simply the brooding atmosphere of this place. She is easily frightened---and with good reason.”

“Then perhaps we should not let the lady remain so alone in the future,” Erestor said, turning his attention back to the journals. “We cannot force her to remain under our watch; however we will leave the doors open when we know everyone else is gone.”

Hearing the dismissal in his friend’s tone, Glorfindel knew Erestor considered the problem solved and he gave Durisia and Cunion a slight bow before slipping back out into the hall, closing the door behind him.

Several hours later, after some of the meat had been roasted and eaten for dinner and the remainder had been set to either be cured for later meals, or put into a stew that would cook overnight, Helcarin and Glorfindel noticed Charika’s gaze occasionally drifting to the hallway as though expecting to see something.

Neither Elf sensed anything untoward and when they went to relieve Alexandra and Orophin, neither of their friends reported anything out of the ordinary during their watch. Nonetheless, they were wary and again wondered what had attached itself to Charika and why.