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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Having awakened before Legolas, after an uneasy night, Alex was in a foul mood for most of the next day. She went through the motions of her diplomatic duties, but quickly found an excuse to get away. She had to admit her admiration for Lothiriel and Eowyn; they managed to seem completely sincere, despite the inane niceties they were forced to endure. Perhaps, because they were both born to their roles, it was easier for them.

She managed to find Charika, who was avoiding everyone and staying shut away at Berrien’s house. The steward’s daughter showed her to the room the woman shared with Rumil, and she knocked softly, entering after she heard Charika’s unenthusiastic invitation.

“How are you feeling?” She didn’t look good; she was pale and had dark circles under her eyes.

“I am well,” the other woman lied.

“No, you’re not,” Alex said, practically. “I’m going to send for Meriel.” She held up her hand at Charika’s protest. “She already knows you’re pregnant. I told you, you can’t hide this.”

Alex had Berrien’s daughter find the she-Elf and she sat quietly with the other woman until Meriel arrived.

“Pregnancy does not agree with you,” the elleth said, after examining the woman. “You should see Ioreth in the Houses of Healing. She is more accustomed to mortal childbearing than I.” She felt compassion for the woman. Charika seemed to have given up hope. “You cannot keep your secret any longer.”

“But, I haven’t told Rumil. He will hate me.”

Alex and Meriel exchanged glances. The woman shook her head and turned away. She was tired of arguing with Charika about this. The she-Elf regarded her patient.

“I have known Rumil for many seasons---since long before you were even born. He will not hate you. Trust him.”

“Have you seen your mother?” Alex asked suddenly. In her world, that would be who most women would turn to in these sorts of situations.

An uncharacteristically hard expression came over Charika’s countenance.

“No. I will not see her; and she has no desire to see me. That life is in the past.”

Again, Alex and Meriel looked at one another. Neither pressed the issue, but both had their curiosity aroused.

They sent for Ioreth, the premier healer of Gondor, who also examined Charika, confirming Meriel’s fears that the birth would probably be difficult.

“We may have to take the babe.” Alex was surprised that they had Cesarean sections in Middle Earth, though she supposed they weren’t called that here.

Meriel nodded. “I thought so. I have not the skill to perform the delivery, which is why I wanted you to see her.”

“You should come here before your time,” Ioreth told Charika. “I would say you have another three months before you should return to Minas Tirith. After that, I do not want you to travel until the child has been born.”

Alex felt sorry for the eastern woman. She listened to the healers talk with wide, frightened eyes. It was bad enough she was bearing the unwanted child of her tormentor; now, she was being told the birth could kill her. Alex had never been so grateful to be unable to bear children as she was at this moment.

They soon departed, Alex being forced to attend some new dinner, Meriel and Ioreth with other duties, and left Charika to ponder the inevitable. She had to talk to Rumil. Turning on her side, she curled into a ball and wept until she fell into exhausted sleep.


The night was noticeably colder than the previous ones. Alex shivered and Legolas put his arm around her, drawing her close to his body and wrapping her in the warmth of his cloak. Clouds on the horizon threatened rain and the couple were glad they were heading back to their chambers. The signing was set for the next day, then a huge formal banquet. After that, people would begin to depart and the Elven prince and his lady could not wait for things to die down.

They undressed and cuddled together on the couch before the fire, a goblet of Thranduil’s wine shared between them. Wrapped in a heavy blanket, their cocoon of warmth gave them a sense of security, protection against the storms of the world.

They discussed Charika and Rumil; neither had an easy solution to that dilemma. Legolas told her he thought Haldir may be getting serious with Meriel. Alex was surprised; but then, the she-Elf would not have confided in her. They speculated on how long the treaty with Harad would last. But mainly, they just enjoyed being together.

Later, after falling into an exhausted, but satisfied sleep, neither noticed the shadow that moved in the darkness, flitting through the palace. It passed briefly through their quarters, but did not linger. It had found what it sought.


Charika was relieved her announcement was received with equanimity by Rumil. Instead of anger, his reaction had been loving and supportive. He insisted she do all that she could to keep from injuring herself and to ensure a successful delivery. He held her as she cried tears of relief. He had been amazed that she had been afraid to tell him, not because the child was Lastharos’, but because she had become pregnant without permission. He felt anger at the society which had caused her to believe such behavior was normal. When she finally slept, nestled in his arms, he allowed himself to drift into Elvish sleep.


The signing ceremony was accomplished with surprising efficiency, given the logistics and protocols involved. Alex had stood between Legolas and Glorfindel as she pretty much tuned out the speeches. She noticed they had rarely seen the Elf-Lord and Saelbeth while in Minas Tirith and wondered what they’d been up to. She smiled to herself. She knew what they’d likely been doing; the same thing as the rest of them.

While dressing for the banquet, Legolas brought the beautiful crown that had belonged to his mother, out and looked at it for a long time. She cold see longing in his gaze and knew he regretted not knowing his mother better. Still, he would see her in the Undying Lands. Tears threatened and she suppressed them. It was just one more thing which called to her husband from across the sea.

The prince looked over at his wife. She was stunning. Her gown was a deep blue with a boned bodice that fitted her curves nicely, her full breasts swelling gently against the fitted form. He did not know if he would be able to resist kissing the soft, perfumed pillows and felt a flash of jealousy and pride. He knew other males, both Elf and mortal, would be looking at his wife’s feminine attributes.

The bodice was decorated with tiny seed pearls which followed the lines of the boning, and silver threads, embroidered in a design of vines, also running up and down the lines of the bodice, which came to a point just below her waist. The full skirt was of the rich, blue cloth covered with sheer, iridescent silk shot through with silver threads. The fitted sleeves started below the points of her shoulders and were banded with pearls like those on the bodice.

He wore dark blue leggings, black boots and a silvery blue tunic in a rich brocade. A mithril circlet fitted around his head and he looked every inch the Elven prince. Alex asked him to help her tie the laces of her gown and, once that had been accomplished, turned to look at her husband.

God, but he was gorgeous. She smoothed her hand over his chest, feeling the design of the heavy fabric and smiled at him. He leaned in and touched his lips to hers in, what was for them, a restrained kiss. Taking his mother’s crown, he placed it atop her head, pulling the heavy locks of her hair through the band so it was held in place.

“You are beautiful, my princess,” he said softly. For all their talk about how much they despised formal occasions, he had to admit, Alex was breathtaking when gowned and bejeweled.

“And you are beyond handsome, my prince,” she replied. Taking his arm, they left their quarters and headed to the last scheduled event of the week.


Although she had lived in Middle Earth, almost exclusively among the Firstborn, for over six years, she still wasn’t prepared for the impact of a room full of Elven splendor. She saw her father-in-law, Thranduil, looking every inch a King. He was as beautiful as her husband, looking more like a slightly older brother than father. Lord Celeborn of East Lorien, husband of Galadriel, the Lady of Light who had sailed into the west a few years earlier, was handsome in his cool and calm manner. Haldir and his brothers, exquisitely haughty; the twins with their easy grace; Glorfindel, resplendent and unmistakable as an Elf-Lord; Saelbeth, relaxed and serene; Erestor and Golradir---all were present and shone with the beauty of the Eldar. Even Vanurion and the Elves of Rhun, in dark but undeniably luxurious clothing, similar to their western kin’s, but with an exotic eastern flair, gave off the golden aura of their kind, adding to the magic.

The mortals were openly admiring of the ethereal beings. Most of those gathered had fought beside the Elves in the War of the Ring or the later war against the Eastern Alliance, and so they did not find the glory of the Elves as intimidating as did the party from Harad.

Elves were feared in the east, due in large part to the decadence of Goroth. Vanurion was not debauched and corrupt as the former leader had been; yet he still believed it was not such a bad thing for the mortals of the east to fear his kind just a bit. The people of Harad found the Elves quite intimidating, having not been exposed to them off of the battlefield, though they also found the beings compelling.

Alex noticed the looks of longing cast by many of the mortals present upon the elegant Elves, and had to admit some pride in being the wife of one of the most fair among the Firstborn. They paid their respects to Thranduil and Celeborn and she saw approval in the eyes of Legolas’ father when he saw his wife’s crown on her head.

Meriel was with Haldir and Orophin escorted Gilraen. Glorfindel and Saelbeth both seemed to be attending Eamane and Alex allowed herself a moment of speculative envy of the elleth, before reminding herself she had the greatest prize of all in Legolas.

The surprise for her, however, was how much better Charika looked. She and Rumil were speaking with Elladan, Elrohir and Pomaea, the twins having been drawn to the beautiful eastern she-Elf, like magnets to steel. Alex and Legolas exchanged glances and joined the group.

She took Charika’s hand and pulled her away from the laughing circle.

“So?”

“What?”

“Did you tell him?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“He says he will abide by my decision, that he loves me and wants only what is best for me.”

Alex breathed a sigh of relief. “Isn’t that what I told you he’d say?”

Charika nodded, looking slightly embarrassed. “I am not accustomed to such behavior from my lord---.” She caught herself and laughed, self-consciously. “You know what I mean.”

“Yes. I---.” She cut herself off when she saw Charika’s gaze fixed on a point behind her. Turning, she saw the woman from the luncheon a few days earlier, staring at Charika with undisguised shock. The man standing with her turned from his conversation to say something to her and, seeing her expression, followed her gaze. His eyes widened in surprise and he leaned down and said something to the woman. She tore her gaze away from her daughter and the two began a quiet, but intense conversation.

“Is the man with her your father?” Alex asked quietly.

Charika nodded. “I have seen neither of them since I was taken to my former master’s house.”

“I don’t understand. If your father is the Haradrim Premier Chieftain or whatever it’s called, how could you have been taken into the service of someone else?”

“At the time, my lord was the Premier. My father only rose to this position after the War, when my lord was killed.” She looked back at Alex. “They are coming over here. I cannot see them.”

“Yes, you can. I don’t know what went on among you, but you are not their property or the property of another. Don’t be afraid of them.” She smiled and turned to greet the couple who had crossed the room and now stood before them.

Charika bowed her head, her hands clasped at her waist. “My lord, my lady. It is good to see you.” Alex noted she spoke Westron, the Common Tongue of the Men of the west. It was a subtle dig at her eastern parents.

“Hello, Charika,” the man said. Alex couldn’t remember his name, though she knew she’d heard it mentioned. “I must admit, we had never thought to look upon you again in this life. When Lord Tezzan was lost, and you were nowhere to be found, we thought you had been killed.”

“No, my lord saw to it I was taken to safety before the war.” Charika seemed nervous and … angry.

The man seemed to notice Alex for the first time. “Who is this?” She was taken aback by his seeming rudeness, but then, in his culture, females were not viewed the same as among the Elves or even the Men of the west. Lady Krionen continued to look at her daughter.

“My lord, may I present my friend, Alexandra.”

“Hello,” Alex said, pleasantly. She would not be rude, but she would certainly not bow and scrape to this little potentate. She’d already decided she didn’t like him. She could tell he was undecided as to her importance. Obviously, it could not be very high, as she was a woman.

His eyes flicked to a point just over her shoulder and she saw his expression change from one of ill-concealed disdain to one best described as carefully neutral.

“Ah, my love, I see you have met Lord Irikiz and his senior wife, Lady Krionen. How are you this evening, my lord?” Alex thanked heaven for Legolas’ upbringing as a prince; his diplomatic skills were far better than hers.

“We are well, Prince Legolas,” the man answered, his tone nowhere near as hostile as it had been.

“Charika has been friends with my wife for several years, and may I say, we were quite pleased when your daughter chose to live among us in Ithilien. Ah, my lord, have you had the opportunity to meet another of our dear friends, Rumil of Lorien?” If Alex had not been in the midst of the discussion, she would have laughed aloud. The Haradrim was obviously ill at ease with the sudden appearance of so many Elves, especially when Rumil placed his hand protectively, rather than possessively, on the small of Charika’s back. The Elf bowed respectfully to the man of Harad, but remained silent.

“It appears you have prospered,” he said to his daughter, forcing a smile. “The Valar have smiled upon you.”

“Yes, my lord,” she replied. “They brought me good friends and a peaceful home.” It seemed to Alex she wished to say more, but held her tongue out of respect for their surroundings.

“I believe Eomer is looking your way, my love,” she said to Legolas, with a smile. “We should see what he requires.”

Catching her meaning, her husband replied, “Of course, my sweet. Lord Irikiz, Lady Krionen, if you will excuse us.” Taking her arm they walked in the general direction of the king of Rohan.

“Well, that was entertaining,” she said and he laughed softly.

“Thank Elvish ears. We overheard him speaking to Charika. It was all I could do to restrain Rumil from challenging the man. He says Charika has told him things about her childhood that make him believe she may have been better off with her former master than at home.”

“Well, my people have a saying: the best revenge against someone who has tried to break your spirit, is to live well. I think they’re kind of embarrassed that their daughter has found happiness despite what she’s been through.”