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.
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The winds grew colder and the nights longer as the snows blanketed the keep and surrounding countryside in a silent cocoon of white. The Elves had preserved meat and fruit acquired during the earlier months, and so there was ample food, not to mention the vast supply of lembas they always seemed to have on hand. Plus, the stores of grain and other provisions that had been in the keep remained remarkably fresh; a result, they supposed, of being kept inside the protective walls that had been blessed by the Waters of the Awakening.

“I wonder why the bodies in that pit weren’t preserved,” Alexandra mused one afternoon as she reclined in Legolas’ arms on one of the couches in the library.

“Most likely, the dungeons and the pit area were not anointed with the waters,” Erestor replied. He, Glorfindel, Vanurion and Sarendir were going over the best route to the location of Cuivienen as part of Helcarin’s plans for carrying on with his quest.

The dark-haired Counselor was still uneasy about his son’s plans, but was forced to agree with Durisia and Glorfindel that the young Elf must follow the path it seemed Eru and the Valar had set before him. He did not know if he would remain in the East with his son and perhaps accompany him on this journey, though he was sorely tempted to do just that. Glorfindel’s plans … he did not know.

Helcarin, Pomea and Rumil were taking the watch with some of Sarendir’s troops, while Haldir and Orophin were making an inventory of items Helcarin would likely need for the trip. Legolas and his wife were adding their opinions while Charika and Durisia sat closer to the fire working on more of the woman’s gowns.

She had so far made new garments for both of the female Elves and Alexandra as well as for herself. She seemed quite content with her needlework and did not seem to be suffering from any more disturbing visions. Her shadow guardian, however, seemed to be more and more in evidence.

All of the Elves could now see him occasionally in mirrors or other reflective surfaces. Alexandra could not, though she sometimes felt as though someone else was around when she was alone with her friend. As time passed, the shadow appeared to grow stronger, though he did not interact with the object of his vigil.

Goroth had not made another appearance since that evening in the dining hall, though no one thought he had decided to forgive those he blamed for his downfall. They all avoided the tower where his old bedroom was located and, in fact, the room had once again been sealed, including the secret opening to the staircase to the dungeon. The hidden door was sealed after the pit was covered and prayers for the dead offered and the door to the cellar and dungeon was secured.

“I think I shall put the green beads on the hem of this gown,” Charika said to Durisia as she held up the skirt of the garment she had just finished stitching. “Do you need anything from the sewing room?” she asked as she stood.

The elleth shook her head. “I have enough to finish this bodice,” she replied. She had never thought much about needlework skills, but found working on the beautiful fabrics relaxing. Now that there was no urgency about finding information on the Sacred Waters she discovered a bit more free time on her hands than previously and took the opportunity to learn to sew offered by Charika’s industriousness.

“I’ll go with you,” Alex offered, but the other woman shook her head.

“You appear far too comfortable in the arms of your lord,” she said with a smile and Legolas chuckled softly, planting a kiss on the top of his wife’s head. “It is just down the hall and I know where everything is kept. I will return momentarily.”

Alex shrugged, but could not deny that she really hadn’t wanted to move. She was indeed quite comfortable in Legolas’ embrace.

Charika left the library and walked down the hall, turning along one of the side corridors and opening the door to the room where the fabrics and trims she had collected were kept. It had windows on two sides so it was well lit and cheerful. Several long tables for cutting the cloth and drawing out patterns were set up in the room, moved there by the Elves who were happy to see her returning to her pleasant, happy disposition after being haunted for so long.

She went to one of the baskets where the items plundered from throughout the building were kept for use as decorations and started searching for the envelope containing the beads she wanted. She rummaged through the large container and could not find what she was looking for, so she set it aside and started on the next one.

“I know it is here somewhere,” she muttered to herself as she dug around among the various packets, envelopes and rolls of lace, braid and strung beads. The particular green ones she wanted were the perfect shade to offset the pale rose gown. Though her friend protested that she had too many gowns already, this new one suited Alexandra perfectly and the prince’s wife had learned not to argue with Charika when it came to gifts.

The eastern woman concentrated on her search, pausing ever so often to push back a lock of her long black curls. She finally found the envelope she was looking for and stood with a satisfied smile.

It was as she straightened from her position over the baskets that she noticed the unnatural quiet in the room. Ever since the snows had begun the keep had been quiet. The piles of soft white seemed to insulate everything, cushioning the sounds from outside and even the wind did not seem to sound very loud. Still, the quiet in the room now had that stillness she had come to associate with the appearance of her shadowy stalker.

She knew she was not alone in the keep, and could see the courtyard out of the windows, so she did not feel so isolated as she had the first couple of times this same thing had happened. Still, the silence was unnerving and she could not help but notice her breath was visible in the rapidly cooling air. The temperature had dropped to the point where she would have shivered if she had not been unable to move. It seemed the light from outside did not penetrate the room and a dimness appeared to settle on the room.

Charika tried to find her voice. The dark shadow had never harmed her---just frightened her considerably. Still, she thought he did not truly mean her harm. This was not Goroth, of that she was certain. She felt no anger or malice from the shadow. In fact, she felt almost enveloped in something whenever these episodes occurred, as if something came between her and the rest of the world.

How long she remained motionless she could not say, but gradually became aware of a voice calling her name and turned in time to see Alexandra open the door to the room, a slight frown on her face.

“Charika, what---,” she began, when the eastern woman held up a finger.

“Do not speak, do not move,” she ordered quietly.

Alex did as she was told, but had no idea what her friend was doing. She had become concerned that Charika had not returned, though the others were wrapped up in planning an adventure for Helcarin and seemed not to notice the woman’s absence. Legolas and given her a tender, but distracted kiss when she’d told him she was going to go see what was keeping her friend, and she’d slipped out the door and down the hall with most of them likely not realizing she’d left.

She noticed the door handle was freezing when she’d grasped it to open the door to the sewing room and as it had swung open, she’d seen Charika gazing at something in the corner of the room blocked by the opening door. When the woman looked at her and shushed her she hadn’t asked questions, and her friend’s gaze drifted back to the corner, still blocked from Alex’s view by the open door.

Charika saw her shadow companion clearly for the first time. He had been growing more distinct every day, though usually reflected on some surface, occasionally glimpsed in a corner. Today, though, he stood near the far corner of the room and she could see features for the first time.

He resembled Vanurion, Sarendir and the other eastern Elves---strikingly handsome; straight, glossy black hair pulled back in a single braid; fair skin with a faint golden sheen; eyes of some shade of green---she could not see him distinctly enough to determine their exact color; and the delicately pointed ears that marked him as one of the Firstborn. He wore dark clothes, similar, but somewhat different from the ones her friends wore, and a tatequalme was visible on his back, along with a regular Elven sword.

The figure watched her with a calm expression and, again, she did not sense any danger from him. His gaze shifted to where Alexandra stood immobile in the open doorway and a faint smile touched his lips before he once more looked at Charika.

“Alexandra,” she said quietly. “Come here and stand beside me.” The shadow-Elf did not move; neither did the smile leave his lips. He seemed almost to be as interested as Charika in whether or not the other woman would be able to see him.

Alex entered the room warily, immediately turning to follow her friend’s gaze. She thought she saw a shadow in the vague shape of a man and she felt a small thrill of not fear exactly, but the excitement she remembered from her past life when she would enter a situation with an unknown adversary.

“What do you see?” Charika asked in a soft voice.

“I see a shadow in the corner that looks like it may have been cast by a man.”

“He is an Elf, actually,” her friend replied.

“You can see him clearly?”

“Yes. I have never seen his features before, but I do now. When he is a bit more distinct I will be able to see more. I am certain one of the others would be able to see him more clearly than I do.”

“What does he look like?” Alex tried, but could see nothing more than the outline. As Charika described him, her first thought was Goroth, but her friend assuaged her fears.

“I have never seen Goroth, but I am certain this is not him.” Charika noticed that at the sound of the name of the former leader of the Rhunian Elves, the shadow-Elf frowned and gave a slight shake of his head. He could obviously see and hear them. Why did he not speak?

“Who are you, Master Elf?” she asked and saw he raised a brow and his smile widened a bit. His lips moved, but she could not hear anything. He seemed aware that no sound was audible and gave a small frown.

“Did he say anything?” Alex was frustrated that she could not see the being clearly.

“He did, but there was no sound,” Charika replied. She looked at him a moment then walked across the room to where he stood. He did not move and she reached up touch his shoulder. His eyes followed her hand as it rose and then moved toward him, sliding through him.

Charika watched her hand disappear into the shadow-Elf’s shoulder and her fingers felt a slight tingling, like they did when she slept on her arm and it was numb and prickly upon awakening. The space where her hand passed also felt a little cooler than the air in the room and she looked back up into the apparition’s face.

He smiled again, this time his expression tinged with a touch of sadness and she felt something from him for the first time. He gave a slight nod and faded from view and she stood there watching the spot where he had stood.

Alex had seen Charika touch the shadow then, moments later, the shadow fade. When the eastern woman turned back to face her, the expression she wore was thoughtful.

“Well?” Alex asked with a touch of impatience.

Charika described what had happened. “He means me no harm, I know. I felt comfort and strength from him. I think he is protecting me.”

“From what?” Alex once again wished she could see and feel what her friend did. She felt totally on the outside as her husband, his kin and even her mortal friend could see and interact with entities on another plane while she was in the dark, so to speak.

“I do not know,” Charika replied as they left the room and walked back toward the library. She tapped the envelope of beads in her hand as she thought. “I thought it may be Goroth, but he seems to dismiss me as unimportant. Besides, I have not seen him or felt him in some time.”

They entered the room with the others and Durisia was the first to notice their return. She could sense something had happened while the two women were gone and raised a brow.

“Tell them,” Alexandra advised.

“Tell us what?” Haldir asked as he and Orophin looked up from the list they were going over with her husband.

The others followed Alexandra’s gaze and Charika blushed, then sighed.

“I saw the shadow clearly, and he is an Elf.” She proceeded to tell them of the events that had just transpired.

“And you are certain he is not Goroth?” Vanurion asked.

“I am positive it is not the same presence. He does not project the same sense of hatred and malice as the dark cloud that is Goroth.” She thought for a moment. “When I mentioned Goroth’s name, he seemed displeased---wait; he seemed disgusted or repulsed.”

“If he is one of our brethren, then no doubt he has had occasion to find Goroth repugnant,” Sarendir murmured to his cousin, who nodded.

“And you could not see him?” Glorfindel asked Alexandra who shook her head.

“All I saw was a faint shadow, like you’d see if it was an overcast day, but there was just enough light to cast a bit of a shadow. I couldn’t see any features.” She sounded quite disappointed and Legolas put his arm round her sympathetically.

“That is more than you were able to do; and the rest of us have been unable to actually see him either until recently. Only Glorfindel and Helcarin could see him from among our kin and none of us have seen more than a distinct male shadow.” She looked at her husband with a rueful smile. He always tried to make her feel better.

“Could you tell what he said when you asked his name?” Erestor asked.

Charika shook her head. “I do know it was not Goroth that he said,” she answered with conviction. “It seemed to be a longer name---if it was a name he was giving me at all.”

“I find it odd that he seems non-threatening and, in fact, you felt him protective of you, though he seems to appear to you when you get such an intense feeling of fear.” Glorfindel frowned as he concentrated on the seemingly contradictory information.

“Perhaps he appears in response to the threat,” Orophin postulated and the others looked at him thoughtfully.

“Indeed,” Haldir mused. “It could be that something else entirely causes the fear and this … shadow-Elf, as you call him, is there to protect you. You simply have not noticed him as much otherwise.”

Charika nodded slowly. “It is true, I have seen him in mirrors and other places when there were no feelings of danger. He seems to simply watch; but he seems as if he is interacting with me when the odd feelings come.”

“The question then becomes, what is causing the fear? The unnatural silence?” Erestor welcomed the puzzle. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, thinking about Helcarin’s journey to Cuivienen caused him to feel a sense of loss that he did not wish to examine so closely whereas this puzzle involving the ‘haunting’ of Goroth’s keep was intellectually stimulating and helped redirect his thoughts away from the distressing.

“I do not know,” Charika said, disappointed she could not help them solve the mystery. “I know that it becomes quite cold, and I notice I cannot hear anything---not even my own breathing. I feel as though I cannot move nor speak. Then, it ends and everything is as it was. I cannot even say how long it lasts, though it seems forever.”

“You were not gone that long,” Alex told her. “I simply thought it was longer than you should have been gone on a simple mission to find an envelope of beads.”

Charika nodded. “Whoever he is, he seems to be getting stronger; perhaps he will soon be able to speak to me.”

They went back about their business and Charika seemed to be undisturbed by her encounter. Alex watched her friend with a smile. If anyone had told her Charika would be communicating with ‘ghosts’ and calmly going about her business in the face of otherworldly events, just a few months ago, she would have thought them mad. Not for the first time she marveled at her friend’s resilience.


The Elves took to walking through the keep daily, making certain the empty sections remained so. They could not say why, but felt it important to assure the security of their current home, though none could point to a specific threat that caused the increased sense of urgency.

Charika’s shadow-Elf, as he was now known, became clearer and clearer each day and soon they could see him almost as well as the woman. Alexandra even saw a distinct Elf-like being, though she did not see him with the clarity of the others. He remained unobtrusive, but could always been found somewhere near Charika. Only when she was alone with Rumil in their chamber was she conscious of him not being near. Rumil laughed and said perhaps he wished to give them some privacy.

Legolas was walking through the tower, down the hall housing Goroth’s former bedroom and had just passed the sealed doorway when he felt a sudden, cold breeze blow through the hallway. He paused, feeling an uncharacteristic chill wash over him. Turning, he spied a small hole in the newly mortared stone which had once again been put up to keep the sadistic warlord’s room closed off from the rest of the world.

The prince frowned and walked over to the spot in the wall, putting his hand to the opening. In contrast to the icy wind that had blown over him, the air surrounding the hole seemed uncomfortably warm. He wondered if a fire had somehow started in the room, though there were no candles or sources of heat in there and no smoke coming from the opening.

Bending down, he looked into the hole; why, he did not know. The windows had been blocked with stone so there would be no source of light to illuminate the room, even for his exceptionally sharp Elvish eyes. Still, he wished to see for himself that no flames were smoldering in the room. The keep was old and though well preserved, thanks to the Sacred Waters, much of the furnishings would be excellent fuel for a fire.

As he expected, he could see nothing in the room and breathed a small sigh of relief, having been completely unaware that he had been holding his breath. He started to straighten when the gaze from a shining, familiar, forest-green eye met his from the other side of the hole.


In the tower diagonally across from the one housing Goroth’s former bedchamber, Helcarin, Pomea, Alexandra and Orophin met up in one of the large chambers midway the structure, Orophin and Alex having checked the lower floors, Helcarin and Pomea making sure the upper floors were secure.

“What room was this?” Helcarin asked as they looked inside the door. It was large, with a round platform in the center on which stood what looked to be a round bed.

“I believe it was the bedroom of one of Goroth’s concubines,” Pomea replied, walking around the platform to one of the ornate chests against the wall.

“Why would it be in another tower?” Orophin asked, picking up a beautiful molded glass vase, examining it, then putting it carefully back on the table. “Would he not wish his … companionship to be close to his bedchamber?” He knew he would not want to be an entire wing and tower away if it had been him.

“Indeed,” Helcarin agreed. “Although his wife might object to having his mistress so near.”

“Goroth had no wife,” Pomea told them as she plundered through the drawers of the chest. “He had several concubines and then numerous … females with whom he bred.” She glanced at the others and laughed. “Do not look so shocked. I know it is not the way of the Elves of the west, but we are the lost ones, remember? Few of us have ever really married, though by your standards, whomever we bred with would have been our mate.”

Alex could see Orophin and Helcarin trying to adjust to the idea and smiled to herself. She finally found something to do with mating in which she was a bit more progressive than her husband’s kin. To hide her amusement, she opened one of the other chests in the room and stared for a moment at the contents, not shocked, really; just surprised.

Pomea noticed her silence and looked over her shoulder.

“I was correct,” the elleth said, then reached in and pulled out one of the objects. It could only be described as a crystal phallus and Alex suddenly felt acutely embarrassed with Helcarin and Orophin present. Hell, she would’ve been embarrassed if it had been just her and Pomea.

There were other things in the drawer which the woman had no desire to examine any closer, though if her husband had been with her, it would have been a different story. She fought to hide her embarrassment, but could feel her cheeks burning. Her companions seemed not to notice, however.

“No doubt, it was molded from Goroth’s own,” Pomea said, examining the clear, hard object. “It is---was traditional to present one of these to one’s favorite concubine.” To Alex’s further mortification, the elleth held it up to the window so the light refracted through it, casting a rainbow of colors all around the chamber.

Helcarin walked over to her and said something close to her ear that Alex could not hear, though from Orophin’s slight smile, he could. The Lorien warden glanced at the woman and held out his hand. Alex took it and he led her toward the doorway.

“While they would not mind our being present, I thought you may find the situation increasingly uncomfortable,” he said, guiding her from the room, pulling the door closed behind them.

She nodded. “Thank you.”

He laughed. “I could see you were embarrassed. Did they not have such things for lovers to exchange in your land?”

“Yes … well, it is difficult to explain. It wasn’t the tradition for my people to give models of their … private parts to each other.” She looked down. “And if that was a model of Goroth’s …” Her voice trailed off and her friend understood immediately.

“Come; let us go downstairs. We will get the flute and play some more.” He put his hand to her back and they started down the stairs. He had become increasingly protective of Alexandra of late, though he could not say why. Perhaps it was having witnessed the spirit of the former Lord of the Elves of Rhun directing its anger and malice toward her. Still, he did not wish to leave her unguarded and only felt at ease when either he or one of his kin, preferably her husband, was with her.

Neither of them noticed the keen eyes watching them from the window of a room in the opposite tower through the large window in the hallway outside the concubine’s room. The placement of the expansive window was no accident as the former master of the keep had enjoyed spying on his mistress and she would often leave the door open so he could see her as she lay with others for his amusement. Her unfortunate lovers would find themselves bound to Goroth’s will even tighter for once they had lain with his concubine, they dared not refuse any order since any word from her to Goroth would mean their painful torture and death.

Legolas watched as his wife and her closest friend, hand in hand, left the room that had been built for only one purpose and the smile that touched his lips was nothing like the kind usually lighting up his handsome features; and the steel blue eyes that followed them were icy cold and glittered with a faint touch of green.