Tears 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 sounds of the battle raged outside the building as Alexandra and Saelbeth fretted about not being able to join in the battle.

“What do you see?” he asked as Alexandra limped over to the window and peered out of the shutters.

“Not much. There are people running, fighting, dying. Those things are all over the place and seem to just be tearing people apart as they come upon them.”

“Do you see any sign of Legolas, Glorfindel or the others?” the ellon asked.

“Not here. I see none of our people, but I can feel Legolas and know he’s safe.” She was quiet and the sounds from outside seemed to diminish. “It looks as if the battle is moving deeper into the city.”

Saelbeth pulled himself to stand, cursing his broken leg. Alexandra reached out, lending her support and he met her eyes with a slight smile.

“We are certainly a valiant pair, are we not? It seems Lastharos’ army has nothing to fear from us. We can barely walk across the room.”

She nodded and sighed. “I will heal soon enough. What of you? How long does it usually take Elves to heal from an injury like yours?”

“It will be at least two weeks,” he replied. “I broke my left arm during sword practice with Glorfindel when I was younger and Lord Elrond kept it immobile for a week. I remember he told me it would take twice as long had it been my leg.”

“Can we hold out for two weeks? Where is there to hide? These creatures will hunt everyone down and kill them.” She would be healed by the next day or so. At least she would be able to defend Saelbeth easier without worrying about her balance.

“If you find an opportunity to escape and find the others, take it,” her husband’s cousin told her in a calm voice. “You cannot remain here where the likelihood of certain death is so great.”

“Forget it,” she replied shortly. “I’m not leaving you behind. I’ll stay with you until you can travel with ease or carry you with me when I go. Either way, you’re stuck with me.”

They left the window and made it over to a small pallet against the wall. The house did not seem to have much furniture; a few chairs and a table were all. Alexandra helped him to ease onto the relative comfort of the blankets and straw mattress then carefully sat next to him. Though it had been a hot battle, the woman felt chilled, likely due to the fact she was exhausted, injured and not a little bit frightened. As if sensing her need, Saelbeth put his arm around her shoulders.

“If they seek us, we will do best to remain here,” he told her. “Once the battle is over we can look for the others.”

“Defend in place,” she murmured then smiled. “I know Legolas is alright. I feel him. The others … I don’t know. I hope they are safe. I’m worried about Elrohir. He seemed to give up when he couldn’t find Elladan.”

“They are very close. If his brother has fallen, I fear Elrohir will allow himself to fall as well.”

Alexandra could understand---if Legolas were to be killed, she would not be able to live without him. He was her one anchor in this world.

“Rest, my lady; I will watch,” Saelbeth told her in a quiet voice. Her head had eased down against his shoulder and her eyes were desperate to close.

“You should rest too,” she told him sleepily. “You will heal faster if you do.”

Saelbeth did not answer as he sensed she had already fallen asleep. Shifting position so she would be more comfortable, he leaned back against the pillows in the corner of the pallet next to the wall. Alexandra snuggled close to him and he wrapped his arms around her, soon succumbing to his own weariness as the battle in the city abruptly ended.


The fight had become one seemingly endless orgy of pain and death. Haldir and Elrohir did battle with the bloodthirsty hordes without thought. Both held swords in each hand and cut down every beast that came their way, but it seemed the invaders were without end.

Suddenly something caught Haldir by the shoulders and pulled him up into the air just as another did the same to Elrohir. Sharp claws dripping with poison dug into the Elves’ flesh, piercing the muscles and causing them to lose their grips on their swords. The ellyn struggled as they were hoisted high above the battle and taken swiftly over the plains to where a dark mass waited.

Haldir felt his body going numb and focused on where they were going. They seemed headed toward the camp of the enemy. He was surprised to see mortals. He had thought only these creatures were fighting. Certainly he had never seen a mortal in battle. In fact, it appeared these mortals had not even made camp yet, but were just arriving.

Elrohir glanced at Haldir and their eyes met. Would Lastharos be here? If so, a grim fate awaited them both. For his part, Elrohir welcomed the journey to Mandos. If his brother was there, he would at least not be alone. He regretted, however, that Haldir was caught up in this tragedy.

The creatures landed in front of the advancing army and called out to the mortals in a strange language. One of the mortals answered and after a brief exchange and some hushed conversation, three men rode to the front of the lines and out to meet the creatures.

The Elves were aware of curious eyes on them, something they had grown accustomed to in their journey east, as the Khandun army stared at them with open suspicion, fear and wonder. The three men, obviously the leaders of this army, studied the strange beings before them being held by the vampires of the Dark Force.

“Who are you?” One, an older man, asked the Elves.

“I am Haldir of Lorien,” the Marchwarden replied in his unmistakably commanding tone. “Who are you? And why are we here?”

“You are prisoners of Khand because you have fought against our army, Haldir of Lorien,” the man replied coldly. “You are a foreign spy in our land.” His dark-eyed gaze turned to the other Elf. “And what is your name?”

“Elrohir of Imladris,” the dark-haired ellon replied, his tone equally as icy as the man’s.

“You are Elves of Rhun?”

Haldir raised a brow. “Indeed we are not. Lorien and Imladris are in the west. Do you not know of the lands beyond this?”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “You do not deny you are Elves, however.”

“Why would we?” Haldir retorted.

The man gestured and another from the ranks said something to the vampires in their odd language. Haldir and Elrohir were carried into the hills near where the army appeared to be setting up camp and were bound and placed inside a small cave that would shelter them from the sun, wind and other elements. The creatures clawed hands moved over their bodies in obscene caresses, then left them alone.

“The battle must be over,” Elrohir remarked dully. There was the sound of rushing wings and the ground shook as the dark army returned. “Do you think Lastharos is here?”

“I do not know,” Haldir replied. “He does not seem the type to fight his own battles. I imagine him sending others to die for his glory.”

Elrohir sighed and closed his eyes. “We might as well rest. They will kill us soon enough. I do not wish to go to Mandos weary.”

The blonde ellon glanced at his companion. “I for one have no intention of going to Mandos any time soon. I have a wedding to attend.”

Elrohir cast a speculative glance at the Lorien Elf. “Whose? Are Rumil and Charika going to bind?”

“No, I am. At least,” he added wistfully, “that is my plan.”

“Meriel?” Elrohir could not resist a smile. Haldir and Meriel had been dancing around one another for centuries. It was time they finally completed the steps.

“If she will have me.”

“I do not think you have any worries on that point, my friend.”

“We shall see,” Haldir replied.

They were quiet as they waited for whatever probable gruesome fate was in store.

***

“Hurry, Master Elf! We must make haste.”

Elladan awoke to Allase reaching under him to help him sit up. She was surprisingly strong or he was exceptionally weak. Either way, he was grateful for her assistance.

“What is wrong? What has happened?”

“The city is in ruins and this part of the caverns is in danger of collapsing. They burned everything above us and the weight of the creatures and the fallen stones is causing cracks to appear. Now hurry. Can you walk?”

His gait was stumbling and he leaned heavily on her for support. His side burned and pain shot through his body with every step. Still, he knew he had to move quickly.

“Go, I will follow,” he told the woman with a gasping breath. “I am slowing your progress.”

She turned her calm green-eyed gaze to meet his.

“I will not leave you, Elladan. You did not abandon my people; we will not abandon you.”

He tried to smile but it came out a grimace. The pain was growing worse the more he moved.

Suddenly he felt strong arms lift him and he looked up to se a tall mortal holding him as one would a child. The man smiled and nodded toward Allase.

“Your words are wise, Master Elf, but do not bother arguing with her. Many have tried and all have failed.” To the woman he added, “Run, Allase. I have him.” His gait picked up speed and he and the female fairly flew through the tunnels with sure steps. Elladan could do nothing but cling to the man.

A rumbling sound behind them grew loud and dust filled the air. Screams could be heard as some who had not been able to make it past the danger point were caught in the collapse of the cavern. Elladan clutched the man’s shoulders.

“We cannot leave them,” he rasped.

The man looked down with kind brown eyes.

“We will try to save those we can, but there is nothing we can do right now. We must account for everyone’s safety then go back to help those who may already be lost. You must rest, Master Elf. I have heard it said you kind heal by magic but must have quiet time to do so. You can be of no help if you are hurt and ill.”

Elladan acknowledged the truth behind the man’s words and rested his head against the broad, strong chest. He had always been strong; always been the one to protect others, especially mortals. Now he was forced to admit he was the one who needed protection and this mortal was his guardian.