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.

************************************************************

The day remained gloomy and the cold rains continued. Alex spent the day playing chess with various Elves: Erestor and Golradir each made short work of her; Thandronen and Fereveldir at least let her have the illusion she was doing alright before crushing her thoroughly. She eventually gave up and wandered into the kitchen to terrorize the Elves in charge of cooking in the household. She was notoriously bad when it came to the culinary arts and her husband’s talented kin held their breath until she got bored and left them alone. She finally settled onto one of the couches in a corner of the house with a sheaf of papers on which she was writing her own account of her life in Middle Earth. Her little dogs, Dexter and Dita curled up on the sofa with her, burrowing under the thick blankets and keeping her nice and toasty warm.

Legolas spent the day with Balglin, Haldir and his brothers, and Saelbeth, talking to members of the watch and generally engaging in speculation about the disturbance of the previous evening. No one could pinpoint anything specific, yet all felt unease. Upon further investigation, they discovered most of the Elves in the colony had experienced some formless anxiety the night before; those who had been wardens, sentinels and guardians were all alerted to a presence as if something were stalking the forest. The Elves who were not so accustomed to standing guard seemed to feel a vague alarm, a nameless dread, as if a shadow were passing by.


Rumil ran through the rainy forest to the small, comfortable cottage where Charika had made her home. He did not bother to knock; she did not want him to stand on formality in her home, and when he entered, he found the small, lovely woman sitting by her fire, stitching some trim on a new gown for Arwen, wife of Aragorn and Queen of Gondor.

Charika looked up, her dark eyes lighting up at Rumil’s entrance. Her skin was a deep, creamy color, like honey. Her hair was almost a blue-black and she had delicate features with slightly slanted almond-shaped eyes that were a rich gold in color, much like the Eastern Elves of Rhun. In fact, her mother had been Rhunian and Rumil wondered if perhaps she had some of the Elven blood spread so widely by the Elves of Rhun. Her father had been a Haradrim chieftain, and she had spent much of her life in the harem of a Haradrim warlord, having passed into his possession as a mere child.

She had come to live in Ithilien at Alexandra’s invitation after hostilities between the east and west had begun, the two women having become friends during a visit to the east Alexandra had made with Legolas shortly after her arrival in Middle Earth.

Rumil’s usual haughty demeanor changed dramatically when he entered Charika’s house. His smile transformed him from arrogant Warden to devoted companion instantly. He leaned down and kissed her gently, her lips soft and reminding him slightly of sweetened spices.

“What brings you out in this weather, my lord?” she asked in her pleasant, musical voice.

“May I not visit you if I so please?” he countered.

She laughed. “Of course you may. It is just a good day to remain inside by the fire.”

He took the stitching from her hands and pulled her to her feet. She was a tiny woman, barely coming up to his shoulder and her fragility brought out his strong protective instincts. She had lived a hard life, even though, superficially, it would have appeared to be one of opulence and luxury, and he wanted to make sure she remained safe and cared for all the rest of her days.

He wrapped his arms around her and leaned down, capturing her lips with his. The kiss deepened as she stood on tip-toe and slipped her arms around his neck. He lifted her in his arms without breaking their kiss and carried her up the stairs to her chamber and laid her down on the large, soft bed, covered in brightly colored silk hangings and coverlets.

“It is a good day to remain in bed where it is warm,” he murmured against her lips as they undressed one another quickly. He broke their kiss only to remove his boots and leggings, then joined her under the soft, warm covers. Her body was petite and curvaceous with full breasts tipped by deep rose nipples, already hard from Rumil’s kisses. His lithe, muscular frame wrapped around her, enclosing her in the safety of his arms.

They kissed again, her tongue swirling around his as his hands stroked her smooth bottom. She trailed her lips from his mouth down to encircle one of his nipples, biting it lightly, then moving down over the rippling muscles of his lower belly where his rigid member rose. He watched as her small hands grasped him as she encircled the head with her tongue, then took as much of him as she could into her mouth. He idly played with her long dark locks as she brought him to his crisis. He closed his eyes as tremendous waves of pleasure washed over him.

The first time they had made love, she had been surprised that he achieved his pleasure without spilling his seed, and he had explained how male Elves did not always ejaculate with their orgasms. Once she was assured that she had pleased him, she never questioned him again.

He pulled her up to kiss her again. She lifted up and he caught one of her nipples between his teeth, sucking gently, teasing the tip with his tongue. She reached back and gripped his hardness, fitting it into her warm entrance. He grasped her hips and pulled her down onto him and she rode him until she sighed her pleasure and collapsed onto his chest. He stroked her hair and kissed her tenderly, rolling over, covering her body with his and moving in her, bringing her to another shattering orgasm. He swallowed her moans as his mouth covered hers while he joined her in crying out their mutual ecstasy.

Later, as she lay in his arms, they spoke of the everyday things lovers share. He entwined his fingers in her hair, enjoying the way the silky strands felt wrapping his hands. Charika’s leg was thrown over his and she idly traced the muscles of his chest and flat belly. Conversation turned to the previous night and he asked her if she had felt anything strange.

“Strange how?”

“Any uneasiness in the night. Did anything awaken you?”

She thought. “No. I slept fine.” Looking up into his eyes and laughing, she added, “I always rest well after your visits, my lord. You know how to relax me.”

He chuckled and kissed her; then, as the kiss deepened, they left behind all talk for the rest of the day.


Saelbeth, Orophin and Haldir joined Legolas and Alexandra for dinner that evening. Rumil was likely with Charika, though he seldom stayed the entire night with her; and Balglin decided to remain with the Watch for the night. Erestor and Golradir also graced the younger Elves with their presence at the meal, a rare treat, as they were often either traveling or shut away with books and treaties.

Talk inevitably turned to the mystery of the night before. Alex sat at one end of the table, Erestor on her right, Orophin on her left, Dexter and Dita at her feet. She and the Lorien Warden made it a habit to feed the small spaniels tidbits under the table, a practice Erestor found rather silly; the dogs had dishes of their own. Still, for all of his disdainful looks cast their way when one or the other would surreptitiously place a morsel within reach of one of the dogs, Alex knew he was just as guilty as they were; she had, on many occasions, seen him slipping the animals sweetcakes and small bits of meat when he thought no one was looking.

Afterward, they adjourned to the sitting room where Alex settled on the floor, her dogs on either side of her, leaning against Legolas’ chair. The Elves continued their conversation and she drifted into her own thoughts. Idly stroking Dita’s soft fur, she let her eyes wander about the room, contemplating the company in which she now dwelt.

Golradir seemed quite somber and grave, rarely smiling. Legolas said he was typical of the Noldor, also known as Deep Elves. Yet he had a wry sense of humor that outsiders seldom saw. Erestor, another Noldo, was equally solemn at first glance. However, if one looked closely in his unguarded moments, a mischievous gleam was discernible in his dark eyes. Both had an air of dignity befitting ancient Elves, counselors of Rivendell. In fact, Alex had always thought of them as quiet, academic types, much like some of her theoretical and fine arts/philosophy professors at the Academy. But, during the last war with the Eastern Alliance, she discovered they, like her husband, were quite efficient and lethal fighters. She did not know why their skill surprised her; possibly because their air was always so serene and deliberate, and she just could not picture them outside of their libraries or the study.

Saelbeth was normally quite tranquil and reminded her a great deal of her husband. Legolas had explained they were actually kinsmen, both of Sindarin blood, but Legolas had been raised in a Silvan kingdom while Saelbeth had lived most of his life in Rivendell among the Noldor. Saelbeth’s father was the brother of Legolas’ maternal grandfather, making him a cousin to her husband. Besides being blonde, like Legolas, Saelbeth shared the same easy-going, open manner. Yet he was also quite deadly with bow and blade; she’d had the opportunity to spar with him, and to see him in actual combat, and even his movements reminded her of Legolas: fluid, graceful and deadly.

Haldir and Orophin, and the absent Rumil, were, to her mind, the quintessential Elves: confidence that could be mistaken for arrogance; dignity that bordered on haughtiness; strong, noble, protective and dangerously proficient in the art and science of war. Yet, they also shared a wicked sense of humor, were quick to laugh among their friends, and could be incredibly tender when they so chose.

For example, she knew Rumil had become Charika’s lover and protector, and also knew he treated the woman like a queen, denying her nothing and satisfying her every whim. Yet in all of her day-to-day interactions with the Elf, Alex had never imagined he could be so doting. He’d always been the quietest of the three brothers, in her experience and seemed the most distant. That he had taken such a special interest in Alex’s friend had come as a surprise to everyone.

Haldir had the unmistakable air of command that one would expect from the Captain of the Galadhrim. He was infinitely confident in his ability to handle virtually any situation and never seemed surprised or out of his element. But he, too, had a tender side seldom seen by others. Alex had spotted him in the forest one day hand-feeding several young rabbits whose mother had apparently been killed, leaving her children alone and helpless. She’d watched, fascinated as the strong, handsome Elf had sat on the grass near their warren and would lightly chew small pieces of lettuce before giving them to the baby bunnies, whose teeth were not yet mature enough to masticate on their own. The gentle look in his eyes as he carefully made sure each rabbit got some of the leaves caused her to smile. When he took out a small pouch of milk which he’d fashioned into a makeshift nurser with artificial teats for each of the baby rabbits, Alex felt as though she should look away. Surely, the mighty Haldir, master of intimidation, never meant for others to see him thus. She’d crept away before he saw her and never mentioned it to anyone else, but her already considerable respect for the Marchwarden had grown even more.

Her closest friend in Middle Earth, next to her husband, was the middle brother, Orophin. She watched as he sat on the floor across from her, playing with Dexter, a knotted leather rag being the source of an intense tug-o-war between the beautiful Elf and the little dog. Like his brothers, his haughty demeanor was quite daunting to those who did not know him, and he had the exquisite beauty of the Firstborn that could be intimidating to mortals. But for some reason, when they had first met in Lorien shortly after she and Legolas had married, they had immediately become friends. They shared the same twisted sense of humor and the urge to protect those in need. When she’d been dismayed by Legolas’ father’s initial objection to his son marrying a mortal woman, it had been Orophin who had calmed her fears and reassured her that Legolas was far better with her than without her.

When she had accompanied Faramir and Eowyn’s infant son in order to watch over him after a corrupt eastern Elf had taken the child hostage, it had been Orophin, along with Glorfindel, who had taken point, tracking and finding them after their escape from their kidnappers. She had been tormented by what had happened to her at the hands of Goroth and his nuruil, executioners; and an evil voice, that of Morgoth, the fallen Valar, had preyed upon her mind, telling her she was unfit for her husband, was unclean; and luring her into a suicide attempt. Orophin had been the first to take her in his arms and show her Elves did not consider her contaminated; and to remind her of how much her husband loved her.

Later, in the Elven army’s camp on the southern front, she had seen a hint of something in his eyes that led her to believe his feelings for her might run deeper than just their shared camaraderie. He had never said or done anything to justify that suspicion; but the sense she got from the Elf was similar to the one she felt from her husband: protective and loving. She’d never mentioned it to Legolas, never discussed it with Orophin. If she were wrong, misreading his sentiments, it would be awkward and embarrassing for all concerned. As it was, she treasured him as a friend and would do nothing to spoil their relationship.

Lastly, she considered her husband. He was the center of her universe: her friend, her protector, her lover, her soulmate. As she sat at his feet, she could feel him playing idly with her hair while he talked with his friends. When they were within any proximity to one another, they were always touching, exchanging secret smiles, whispering words of love to each other. She rested against one of his strong legs, stroking it lazily with one hand, much as she was doing to Dita’s belly with the other.

Legolas had shown her the true meaning of unconditional love; and the best part of it was, it had happened gradually. Instead of a sudden rush of falling in love, they had grown in love, having been together almost a year and a half before ever acknowledging their true feelings. They’d had time to get to know one another, learn each other’s secrets, struggle together before joining their bodies and becoming swept up in the heady rush of lust and romance. So, when Legolas had asked her to bind with him, they’d gone into it already knowing their relationship was strong; the binding simply added a new level of strength.

She sometimes felt great sadness when she considered how she would not be able to share the long years of her immortal husband’s life. But she tried to tell herself to be grateful for the time they’d been given together, and when she caught him watching her with longing and knew he was mourning her mortality, she told him the same thing. She also worried sometimes about how she was getting older while he remained forever young and beautiful. He would laugh and kiss her whenever she brooded on the signs of aging, and would remind her that Elves saw with both the eyes and the mind, and to him, she would always be beautiful because he loved her heart and soul.

Later that night, as they lay together in the afterglow of joining, Legolas held his wife’s warm, soft body next to his, stroking her shoulder and the thigh she had loosely thrown across his hips. The rain had continued all day and even now, he could hear its rhythm against the stones of the house. The breeze was chilly, and he pulled the covers over their bodies so Alex would not get cold. She had quickly fallen into a contented sleep and it made him smile to think of her trust in him. She had told him once that she never felt safer than when in his arms, even though demons might rail around them. He was her rock.

As he did every night before sleeping, he thanked the Valar for the gift of his wife, and asked that if there be any way possible they be granted eternity forever. He could not bear the thought of going on with his life once she was gone, though she had made him promise he would not give in to despair. She had reminded him that keeping her in his heart was the only way her essence would continue to exist. Still, unless he fell in battle, he would wander the seas and the Undying Lands with a part of him always bereft at her loss.

He did not think he would be able to sleep, but surprisingly, found himself lulled by the gentle sound of the rain on the stones and leaves. When he awakened, it was still dark, but the first shades of gray were beginning to show in the east. Alexandra slept soundly beside him. Once she was in deep sleep, it almost took violence to drag her from her slumber. Although, he smiled in recollection, sometimes he awakened her gently in a most mutually pleasant manner. Only on those occasions did she not seem to mind being roused from her sleep.

He briefly considered repeating just such a morning greeting, but, in the end, decided she looked far too comfortable curled against his side. He moved silently and smoothly from their bed and walked to the balcony, looking out over the forest. At first, he felt nothing, then, a sense of … something … insinuated itself into his consciousness.

There was something in the house. He swiftly pulled on leggings and boots and threw a tunic on without bothering to fasten it. Picking up his bow and quiver, and his knives, he moved silently from the bedroom, making certain the door was secured behind him.

He stood in the hallway, letting his senses search the darkness. Downstairs; whatever it was that prowled the corridors had moved down into the common areas of the house. Soundlessly, he ran down the wide stone staircase. He felt a cool breeze and saw the door to the side courtyard was open. He knew it had been secured before retiring for the night. Drawing an arrow and fitting it to his bow, he moved cautiously to the wall next to the door and looked out.

He could see nothing in the darkness that should not be there. He let his mind search for the intruder and was drawn into the courtyard, then the forest beyond. He still could see no threat, yet his sense of unease was growing. Further and further from the house, the Elven prince followed the trail of whatever was haunting the colony. He was mildly surprised that no members of the Watch had challenged him. Perhaps they recognized him; still, their silence was ominous.

He was much further from home than was prudent. And, oddly enough, the skies were still dark; no dawn had yet come. Rain still fell steadily and his clothes were soaked. He paused. He’d heard something in the darkness off to his right. He focused his attention in that direction, but could see nothing; hear nothing except the soft patter of rain on the leaves and forest floor. If he had something to aim his arrow at, he would feel better. As it was, he could not find a target.

Suddenly, a footfall behind him to the left caused him to whirl around and he let fly an arrow as something huge with bristling hair and sharp fangs lunged at him from the darkness, a shadow in shadow. He spun out of the way of the beast, noting with satisfaction it had let out an angry, yet wounded growl as it sprung. Nocking another arrow before the creature had time to regain its footing, Legolas again fired into its thick hide. This time, the beast gave a howl of rage and pain. He drew another arrow and prepared to fire again, when he was struck in the back by something big and strong. He felt a burning agony in his right shoulder and cried out in frustration, rolling, trying to get away from the claws, teeth---whatever was being dug into his flesh. He felt as though whatever had hold of him was trying to shake him, as he’d seen Dexter and Dita do with their little leather toys and the bones they were often given by the Elves.

He heard a whooshing sound, recognizing Elven arrows in flight and was suddenly free from the grasp of whatever had been mauling him. He could hear orders being given and thought he recognized Balglin’s voice, but lost it again in a cacophony of sounds as more of the creatures seemed to appear out of nowhere. These were accompanied by dark figures that were simply black shadows in the blackness of the night, barely discernible to even Elvish eyes. His bow was lost and he could barely reach his twin knives, so great was the pain in his right shoulder. He noticed other parts of his body seemed to have suffered from the talons or claws or teeth or … something of the beasts.

The Elven prince fought against things he could barely see, but in the end, even he was overwhelmed by dark shapes with fangs, and shadows in the gloom.


Haldir and Orophin ran through the forest in the direction of the alarm. When they arrived, they found Rumil and Balglin, along with other members of the watch and several bodies of large, warg-like creatures. These beasts, however, seemed taller and the Elves who had fought them reported they stood upright. Saelbeth had been alerted by the calls of the guard as he had spent another sleepless night sitting and gazing out of his window, his mind uneasy. When he saw the first carcass, he muttered an Elvish curse.

“Werewolves,” he hissed. “I have not seen these creatures in many hundreds of years; not since Sauron’s days before the Last Alliance.”

“Why would they return now?” Rumil asked. He did not like the implications.

“Perhaps a new evil is rising,” came the calm reply from Erestor. He too had been awake when the Watch had called for assistance. Looking around, he asked, “Where is Legolas? I would have thought he would be the first one here.”

Noticing his absence for the first time, Orophin ran to the house of his friends. When he saw the open door to the courtyard, a sinking feeling took hold in his heart. Running lightly up the stairs through their private sitting room to Legolas and Alexandra’s bedchamber, he hesitated but a moment at the door. If Legolas was there, then perhaps he would only interrupt early morning sport between the prince and his wife. If, however, Alexandra was alone, the possibilities became dire.

“If she is alone, she may require your comfort,” the thought drifted through his mind. He shook it off and opened the door silently. The faint gray of the early morning light drained the color from everything in the room. The large bed to the left of the chamber held only one occupant.

Alexandra’s hair was spread out behind her and she was holding a pillow to her---Legolas’ pillow, it appeared. She was nestled under the covers and looked so peaceful. He could not awaken her, not until they knew more about Legolas’ whereabouts. On the other hand, if something had happened to her husband, her wrath would know no bounds if she found they had kept it from her. He was pondering his decision when he heard Haldir’s voice as his brother approached from the forest.

He moved lightly across the room and out onto the balcony. Haldir saw him and held up Legolas’ bow, shaking his head. Orophin closed his eyes and breathed a prayer to the Valar for his friend’s safety, then his own, since he would have the unpleasant task of awakening Alexandra and telling her that her husband was missing.

He stood at the foot of the bed for a moment considering how best to accomplish his task without losing life or limb. Alexandra was notoriously ill-tempered when awakened before she was ready to rise for the day. He hoped she did not have any weapons secreted near the bed within easy reach; however, knowing her, she likely had an arsenal under her pillow.

As he opened his mouth to call to her, she turned and the covers pulled away, exposing the curve of her breast and one of her long, shapely legs. A bit more and she would have lain naked and exposed before him. He felt a stirring inside of him and suppressed it, his innate self-discipline and Elven control exerting themselves against the sly voice urging him to take her; it would be a pleasant way to wake the lady.

Instead, he spoke her name softly. She frowned and tried to remain in the arms of her slumber, so he called a little louder. She ignored him and so he was forced to tell her what he’d been avoiding.

“Alexandra. You must awaken. Legolas is missing.”

That got her attention. She opened her eyes and sat up, the covers falling from her body. Orophin averted his gaze, but not before the sight of her was burned into his memory. Sweet Eru, he could not think of such things right now. The lady’s husband may have fallen victim to what, the Valar only knew. He spied a robe on a chest at the foot of the bed and picked it up, handing it to Alexandra as he headed toward the door.

“I will await you in the sitting room,” he said.

“You’ll wait right there and tell me what’s going on.” Her tone brooked no argument. She pulled the robe on, but did not tie it, instead, getting out of bed and looking for anything that would give her a modicum of coverage quickly.

“The Watch was alerted to a disturbance along the northeastern portion of the forest. Some sort of fell creatures were swarming over the area. Saelbeth identified the bodies as werewolves though the first patrol on the scene reported seeing other … shadows and vaguely winged creatures as well. Even Erestor and Golradir were roused by the alarm so we knew Legolas would have responded as well. However, he was nowhere to be found. I came here and saw the door to the northern courtyard open and when I came to your chamber, you were alone. Haldir has just returned.” He finally allowed himself to look at her. “They found Legolas’ bow.”

Alex had pulled on some sort of gown---she didn’t really pay any attention to what. Cursing the laces that were required to hold the bodice to her body so it didn’t slip from her shoulders, she yanked them tight and tried to tie them, though her hands were shaking badly. Orophin came over and gently took the laces from her, quickly securing them. She looked at him with eyes so full of fear his heart ached. He reached out and tucked a lock of her unruly hair behind her ear.

“Do not worry, Alexandra. We will find him.”

She closed her eyes and laid her hand atop his, holding it against her cheek for a moment before turning her head and kissing his fingertips. “Thank you, Orophin,” she whispered. Then, taking a steadying breath, she preceded him through the door and down the stairs where the rest of the household had already been awakened.