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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Erestor climbed the stairs to the top of one of the towers and walked out to look over the snow-covered plains and distant forests and mountains. The cold air felt refreshing and he found the silence of the isolated and empty keep soothing. The scent of snow, the soft sound of icicles in the trees, the feeling of being wrapped in a soft blanket brought to mind the sensations he recalled from Helcarin’s mother, Siensia.

Peace. That is what he felt. Yet there was an undercurrent somewhere, if he concentrated. A disturbance lurked far on the periphery of his senses. He let his mind seek what was there, but it was evasive. He had no doubt the others could feel it. Likely, Glorfindel and Helcarin would notice it more than any of the others. This unsettled feeling may be related to many things, but he did not think Goroth was solely responsible. Neither Charika nor Glorfindel reported feeling disturbed by their interaction with Naveradir and he had never felt any increase in discomfort on the occasions when he had noticed the shadow-Elf’s presence.

He had informed Glorfindel of Legolas’ newly discovered ability to read Quenya and Rhunian and his friend agreed that Goroth had likely entered the prince’s body. How he had accomplished such was a mystery, though, and both agreed they should watch their young friend closely. Intervention without knowing what to do to free him could prove dangerous not only for those around him, but for Legolas himself.

He could see the mountains near the Sea of Rhun in the distance and fixed on them as his mind relaxed. Slowly, he became aware he was not alone on the roof. When Durisia placed her hand on his arm he slipped his hand around her back and pulled her to him, holding her close as she looked out at the mountains as well.

“Have you been there?” he asked. “To the sea?”

She nodded. “But not from this side. I had never been to Goroth’s keep before now.”

He smiled slightly. “I am sorry you are here with such disturbing circumstances surrounding us.”

She turned to look at his handsome profile. “I would not wish to be anywhere else, my lord.” He looked at her with a raised brow and she smiled. “I am content to be with you wherever the Valar lead us.”

Erestor saw honesty and love in her eyes and brought his lips to hers. She slid her arms around him as he pulled her closer, wrapping one hand in her thick braid while the other pressed against the small of her back, molding her body to his. Time ceased as they kissed, each lost in the scent and taste of the other. When it finally ended they pulled back and looked into each other’s eyes, speaking without words.

“Here,” she said softly. “Where it is so beautiful.”

He did not try to convince her to return to their chamber. Something about the clear blue sky, the silence, the soft blanket of pure white snow seemed right---they should seal their bond here.

She took off her cloak and spread it on top of the snow on the roof, and they both removed their clothes, covering themselves with Erestor’s cloak. He framed her cheeks with his hands and kissed her softly before looking into her eyes.

“You are certain?”

“Aye,” she replied softly. Reaching up, she ran a fingertip delicately along the line of his cheek, down to his lips. “I have never felt so content as with you, my lord, and I never wish to be parted from you.”

“Then you wish to bond with me as my wife,” he said, wanting to be certain they both desired the same thing. He would be content to dwell with her as lovers if that is what she wanted; however he knew there would always be a part of him that craved the bond that only Elven marriage could bring.

“Aye, my lord,” she said with a smile. “More than anything.”

He looked into her eyes and spoke the words ordained by Eru. She repeated them and they joined their bodies as they had so many times before; only this joining also brought together their hearts and souls as one.

They could feel the difference as their bodies moved in perfect rhythm. Kissing one another with tender passion, they could feel their peaks quickly approaching and Erestor allowed himself release as he had only once before, spilling into her as they cried each other’s names softly.

Erestor kissed her gently, their tongues moving lazily together as Durisia’s fingers trailed over his shoulders and back. He smiled down at her.

“You are beautiful, my wife.”

“Not as beautiful as you, my husband.”

They remained on the roof a bit longer, wrapped in the warmth of their bodies and their cloaks before finally dressing and returning to their chamber. They could not bear to be apart as their new bond established itself and were forced to be creative in the way they accomplished their task. Once the door closed to their chamber, however, they were locked in an embrace, pulling their clothes off and falling onto their pallet. The newly joined couple was oblivious to all else as they sank into their growing marriage bond.


When they gathered for dinner, Erestor and Durisia’s absence was noted, but not a cause for alarm. The couple often missed meals when going through documents or plundering through other parts of the keep. When they did not appear for breakfast, their friends felt some small bit of concern. Glorfindel and Helcarin went to the chamber Erestor and Durisia shared. The golden-haired Elf-Lord paused outside the door, his keen hearing attuned to the sounds inside. Hearing nothing, he knocked softly.

After a moment the door opened slightly. Erestor stood there with Durisia behind him, a sheet held loosely around her while he had not bothered to cover himself.

“We were concerned,” Glorfindel said, maintaining his calm, even demeanor. “With all of the mysteries we face here, any disappearance for any length of time must be investigated.”

“Rest assured, we are in no danger,” Erestor said pleasantly. Durisia leaned against his back, one hand holding the sheet around her while the other wrapped around him to caress his flat, muscled belly. The other two Elves pointedly ignored the obvious evidence of what had been interrupted.

Suspecting what had happened Glorfindel gave a slight bow.

“We will look for you to join us within the next week.”

“Thank you,” Erestor said with a small smile, then closed the door.

Helcarin gave his father a quizzical look.

“It appears you have a new step-mother,” Glorfindel remarked as they started back down the stairs.

Helcarin chuckled. “I am glad to see him find a partner who is so well-suited to him. I believe he is happier than I have ever seen him.”

They informed the others that Erestor and Durisia would be sequestered for a few days and Alexandra glanced at Legolas who took her hand and kissed it, remembering their own bonding. She had been so embarrassed that everyone knew what they were doing, shut away in his chamber in the palace at Minas Tirith and blushed at the memory.

She asked Charika to help her gather some fruit, cheese, wine, water and juice and they left it on a tray outside of the couple’s door, slipping a note under the door so they would know it waited for them.

“Arwen was so thoughtful to leave it for us,” Alexandra told her friend as they went back down the stairs. “I was also so embarrassed because I thought everyone would think it odd; but now, I am simply happy for Erestor and Durisia. I don’t know what I ever worried about.”

“You worry too much about things that are not important,” Charika told her. “You and your husband are very much in love and everyone knows it. There is no shame in loving your mate.”

Alex laughed softly. “You are right, of course. I don’t know why I’m like that. It’s not like I think people don’t know what we do.”

“Exactly,” Charika said practically as they entered the sewing room. “I would not hesitate to join with Rumil with others present. I have lain with others publicly. Why not with someone I care for?”

Alex stopped and looked at the other woman. “How did you do it? I mean, I can’t imagine making love to Legolas while others watch. I … just couldn’t.”

Charika sat down and picked up a pattern she had been trimming and once again began cutting around the outline. Alex began trimming another part of the design as her friend spoke.

“It is something I was taught all my life. I was trained to be obedient to my lord’s pleasure and it was a role I never questioned. Everyone knew what the inhabitants of a harem were for, what we did. There was no reason to be ashamed or to try to hide it.”

“Didn’t it bother you?”

“No,” Charika replied. “It was simply what I was. Some people are soldiers, some are cooks, some are tailors, some labor in the fields. I was a member of my lord’s harem and became one of his favored concubines. Except for being used by Lastharos, it was not a bad life.” She looked down for a moment. “I do not know why he always asked for me. Probably because I had been taught to endure much pain.”

Alex wanted to ask how she had learned that particular ‘skill’, but refrained. She did not think she really wanted to know.

Charika looked back up at her and smiled. “Sometimes it brings happiness to others to see people enjoying pleasures. Are you not happiest when you are with Legolas, making love to him?”

The other woman nodded.

“Then why would you think it so bad if others happened to witness your joy?”

“I don’t know,” Alexandra replied. “My people just … it is something we do privately. There are some who don’t have such qualms, but most of us keep our own affairs to ourselves without witnesses.”

“I am glad I do not dwell in your land,” Charika laughed. “I would be terribly out of place.”

“No,” Alexandra said with a smile. “You would fit in just fine. You’re quite adaptable.”

“Again, something I learned in my training for harem life. As one of the harem females, I never knew who I would lay with or what they would desire. I may be left to myself for days or weeks, even months; then again, I may have several different encounters in one day. Sometimes my lord enjoyed watching the females pleasure themselves or each other. Sometimes he would have us pleasure some of the males in the harem as he watched. I never knew what he would ask, but had to be prepared for it. I can recall being used as a serving dish at banquets, along with others from the harem.” She gave a soft laugh. “It tickled a bit sometimes and we had to remain motionless. Some of the others could not help themselves, but I never spilled anything on my body,” she added with a note of pride.

Alex listened with amazement. She simply could not imagine such a life. It sounded horrible to her, but Charika did not seem to have been traumatized by anything except Lastharos’ use of her. She shook her head.

“You astound me,” she told her friend. “I would likely have been put to death the first day if I’d found myself confined to a harem.”

“Possibly,” Charika replied. “Remember, though, I was meant for that life from birth. I was trained to be obedient and adaptable and when I reached the proper age, I was sent to my lord for him to take my maidenhead and received further training from the older women of the harem. I never knew any different until I went to dwell in Ithilien with Rumil.”

“Didn’t you object, though? I mean, didn’t you have to do things you didn’t want to do? And I mean besides being forced to do the things Lastharos made you do.”

Charika thought as she folded the piece of pattern she had finished trimming and picked up another.

“Sometimes we were used as decorations for feasts and once we were placed on our knees in golden chains with our hands secured above our heads and given a golden phallus we were to sit upon. Some of us had two. The gold was too hard and not very comfortable. I recall many of us were quite sore after the feast was over. Fortunately, we did that only once while I was there.”

Alex just stared at her. How could she sit there so calmly and speak of her objectification as if it were nothing?

“You are shocked,” Charika said with a small smile. “The ways of the west are different. No doubt Rumil would turn away from me if he knew all of the things I have done, for even though Elves are open with their affections among themselves, some things even they would frown upon.”

“I’m not shocked by the things you did; just how easily you speak of them. I would just be so embarrassed if it were me. And nothing would make Rumil turn from you.”

Charika chuckled. “Perhaps not. He has stood by me when others I have known would have either discarded me or had me put to death.” She sighed softly. “I wish I could tell him I loved him, but I do not know if that is the emotion that I feel. I am afraid I might be confusing gratitude with love.”

Alex nodded. “Only you can know if it truly is love,” she told her friend. “I believe it is, but it’s not my call to make.”

Charika smiled and they continued their work in silence.


The days passed quietly, but the sense of something hanging over the keep gradually increased. Naveradir made more and more appearances when Charika was alone. She, Glorfindel and Erestor had decided not to mention his name or what they had learned from him to the others and he seemed to avoid appearing when Legolas was present, strengthening their theory that the prince shared his body with Goroth’s spirit somehow.

Legolas was unaware of the consciousness that had somehow managed to slip into him. Goroth was buried deeply in the prince’s psyche and did not try to force his young companion to do things that would arouse suspicion. Only when he lay with Alexandra did he push Legolas a bit, finding there were things the Elf and his wife had considered, but never done together and he encouraged them to explore their less common desires. Only if it was something to which one or the other truly objected did he restrain himself from pushing them further. He filed it away for future reference, however. Such knowledge could prove useful in his plans for revenge. For now, he would do nothing to arouse suspicion.

Goroth continued to torment Legolas with dreams. They were an amalgamation of images from Legolas’ own mind and Goroth’s memories and twisted imagination. He would often recall sordid events from his past, but cast the prince, his wife and their friends in the lead roles, making the visions seem like Legolas’ own memories.

He recalled with particular glee the nightmare of Alexandra raped and killed by her husband’s kin. Legolas’ anguish had been gut-wrenching and Goroth had felt exquisite pleasure as he conjured up the horrible images for the prince’s torture and his own enjoyment. He used elements from the fate of one of Vanurion’s concubines to enhance the ‘experience’ and was pleased to see the Sindarin Elf appeared to suffer the same sort of pain and sorrow Goroth’s nephew had when he learned the fate of his whore. The proud Rhunian Elf had become a whore himself for the next two months as he repeatedly lay with the female breeders in the dungeon until all were with child, the price of the concubine’s body for burial.

Alexandra pushed her memories of the unpleasant encounter with Legolas in the tower room out of her consciousness. She loved her husband without question and what had happened that night did not fit in with what she knew to be their relationship. So, warrior or not, she succumbed to the age-old defense mechanism of denial and in an amazingly short time, the fear and suspicion she had felt at the time were thoroughly buried.

Her husband was also blissfully ignorant of what had occurred. It was so out of character for him, he could not fathom any such behavior on his part. He noticed his craving for his wife seemed particularly sharp and their sport sometimes took on new dimensions. Both were pleasantly surprised by some of the turns it took and often found themselves wondering why they had not thought of them before.

His interactions with his fellow Elves were above reproach and had Glorfindel not been privy to Naveradir’s words, he would never have thought the spirit of a dead Elf now shared the prince’s body.


Legolas stared out into the darkness surrounding the keep. A light snow was falling, but did not obscure the Elf’s view. He shared the watch with Helcarin, Haldir, Orophin, Rumil and a few of Sarendir’s troops. The night was quiet and there was no obvious cause for alarm; yet he was on edge, more so than the others. Something was watching and waiting in the night besides Elves.

He forced himself to remain calm. Lately he had been troubled by anxiety that he could not name and did not understand the source. Looking back, it seemed to have begun not long after the snows began. He recalled disturbing dreams that faded from consciousness as soon as he awakened, but left a lingering unease; and there were times odd thoughts came to his mind, especially around his eastern cousins … and Alexandra.

He would die before he would willingly harm his wife: he loved her more than his own life. Still, there were times when the urge to … do things to her was almost irresistible. He could not always recall what it was he considered, but knew it was something that made him recoil almost as soon as the image came to mind. He wanted to talk to Glorfindel about it, but something always stopped him, and when he did have the opportunity, he could not remember anything specific.

A silent breeze touched his face and he saw the flakes of snow moving oddly in the distance. Nocking an arrow he took aim at the center of the disturbance and let the arrow fly just as one of the winged night creatures came into view. It shrieked as it sailed toward him and he shot it again before its claws could touch him.

The creature fell to the stones atop the wall and he whipped out his long knives, stabbing it. Orophin arrived in time to see him end the creature’s life.

“Three more have attacked,” the Lorien Elf said, firing an arrow as another of the creatures flew toward their position.

Legolas whirled around, bringing up his knives and slicing into the beast as it flew over his head. Black blood spilled to the stones, the prince stepping back just in time to avoid being splattered as the creature slammed onto the wall. He kicked it onto its back and brought his knives up to finish it off and the bright green, glowing eyes fixed on his.

He stared into those eyes and felt a sense of dread unlike any he had ever known. It was totally alien to the young Elf and he hesitated for just a moment as the urge to hide from that gaze almost overwhelmed him.

“Legolas!” Orophin’s voice cut through the haze of uncertainty that surrounded him and he brought the knives down, piercing those eyes and closing them forever. He pulled the blades free and looked up at his friend who was watching him with a look of concern.

“Are you injured?” Orophin asked.

He shook his head.

“No,” he replied. “I was simply … I do not know what came over me.”

They turned their attention to the surrounding skies, but no more of the creatures appeared. Five vampires had been killed, all attackers accounted for. Legolas wiped his blades clean and sheathed them, then picked up his bow.

“You are certain you are well?” Orophin asked again. He had never known Legolas to hesitate in a battle.

“Yes, I am uninjured,” his friend answered. “It seemed as though the creature was trying to tell me something and I almost thought I heard something.” He could not say he had been frightened. He had fought and killed one of these creatures with nothing but his hands and a leather strap; there was nothing for him to fear while armed.

Orophin nodded as Sarendir came toward them.

“We are searching the grounds and inside the keep, but I do not think anything breached the building.” The eastern Elf shook his head. “I do not recall ever seeing these creatures here in the past. They were further east and in the more remote parts of the countryside. Warg were what we saw the most of.”

“Perhaps they moved into this area after the keep was abandoned,” Orophin suggested.

“Possibly,” the dark-haired Elf agreed. “Whatever the reason, they are a nuisance.”

A rumble in the distance indicated thunder and the Elves frowned.

“A thunderstorm during this part of the year?” Orophin did not like it at all.

“Sometimes it happens,” Sarendir replied. “I have not seen one in many centuries.” He looked up to see dark clouds rolling in and the light snow turned to icy rain. The Elves pulled their cloaks up to shield their eyes so they could see any other enemies who may approach.

The watchers did not notice the dark shadows that hovered in the shade of the trees and walls. There were not many of them, but they sensed their prey and waited for the opportune moment to take him. Others were with him, but soon he would be alone and vulnerable and would reveal himself.


Alexandra awoke at the first shriek from outside and grabbed the sword next to the pallet where she and Charika were sleeping. The other woman stirred at her movement, then opened her eyes.

“What is it?” the eastern woman whispered.

“Vampires, from the sound of it,” Alex answered quietly. She got up and went to the door.

“No!” Charika hissed. “Do not go out there!”

“Nothing is going to happen to me,” Alex replied. “I’ve fought these things before. Besides, they won’t let them get into the keep.”

Charika was about to say something else when a soft knock came on their door. Alex opened it, sword ready to strike, but relaxed when she saw Vanurion.

“More vampires are attacking,” he told them. “Stay in here.” When Alexandra started to protest he fixed her with a meaningful gaze. “Stay with the lady. Your husband and Rumil would never forgive me if I did not make certain you were secure. Lock the door.”

Alexandra nodded and bolted the door. Turning to her friend she smiled sourly.

“Well, I suppose they don’t want to have to worry about the womenfolk.”

“Neither do I,” Charika replied. She pulled one of the blankets around her. “It is so cold in here.”

Alex went to the fireplace and put another log on the fire. It was, indeed, chillier in the room than when they had gone to bed. She sat down on the sofa and leaned her sword against the arm, within easy reach. Charika watched her for a moment, then got up, still wrapped in the fur blanket and came over, sitting next to her. The eastern woman pulled the blanket open and wrapped one part of it around Alex and the two women tucked it around themselves, huddling together for warmth as the temperature continued to fall despite the added fuel on the fire.

Charika could feel the dread coming, even though Alexandra had put an arm around her and wondered if her friend could sense anything unusual. She became aware of the fading sounds of the fire and even of Alexandra’s breathing and soon found herself frozen, motionless and afraid.

The rapidly dropping temperature was odd and Alex wondered if it had anything to do with the appearance of the vampires. She recalled how the odd snow and ice storm had come to Ithilien when Lastharos’ creatures had made their first appearance there, and how the inclement weather had harassed them on their journey to find Legolas and Charika.

She was pondering the possible significance of these observations when she noticed her friend’s body seemed tense and stiff. She was about to speak when she noticed how quiet the room had become. The faint hiss and snap of the fire was absent as was any sound from outside. She felt as though she were cocooned in silence; even the sound of her own breathing was absent.

Alexandra glanced around the room and spotted the shadow-Elf approaching them. He looked at her and gave a reassuring smile and she returned it. He sat on the couch beside Charika, though the other woman did not seem to notice him, and put his arms around both of them, appearing to rest his head atop the eastern woman’s.

Alex immediately felt safety and comfort and relaxed in the unknown Elf’s embrace. Closing her eyes, she felt the tension ease from her and wondered how they had ever feared him. She had never feared an Elf save one and instinctively trusted this one.

Gradually the temperature began to rise and she felt Charika stir against her shoulder.

Charika heard the logs popping on the fire and her anxiety faded. She felt safe and warm and turned to speak to Alexandra, but saw the other woman looking at something on the other side of her. Charika turned her head and saw Naveradir sitting next to her, smiling gently.

She inhaled sharply. This was the closest she had been to him since his every detail had become clear and he was indeed breathtakingly beautiful. His eyes of a deep moss green were serene, but with a hint of humor behind them. The faint golden shimmer the eastern Elves had was in evidence and she reached out, tentatively and touched his shoulder. He felt solid and his smile widened at bit at her look of surprise.

Alex watched them with interest. This Elf reminded her somewhat of Vanurion and Sarendir and she wondered if the three were somehow related. When Charika touched his shoulder she raised a brow. He was apparently no longer a shadow-Elf. Curious, Alex reached over and took his hand. It was warm and strong and she looked up at him with a laugh.

The Elf said something and Charika shook her head.

“I do not speak Quenya or Rhunian,” she told him.

“But he understands you,” Alex replied and the Elf looked at her and nodded. “He doesn’t speak Common; neither does he speak Sindarin.” He inclined his head. “But you can understand what we say?” Again he smiled and nodded.

He spoke again and Alex was able to pick out a few words from the Quenya she had learned and the Rhunian she sometimes heard the eastern Elves use. His voice was rich and pleasant and soothing.

“There is danger here for you---us. Danger for all of us or just Charika?” He looked around and said something more. “Danger for all of us here. From where?”

“Goroth. Lastharos.”

The women stared at him.

“Lastharos is here?” He shook his head and began to speak. Alex listened closely as Charka shifted her glance between the two of them. When he fell silent she looked at her friend. Alexandra appeared deep in thought.

“What did he say?” Charika asked, her voice holding a slight tremor.

“Lastharos sends his minions to seek something and you are at risk of discovery. He has been shielding you from them when they have approached. Apparently they are drawn here because Goroth’s spirit did not go to Mandos and it calls to them.” She watched the Elf to be certain she was explaining it correctly. “Many of Morgoth’s creatures are inhabited by the spirits of the dead and they are tormented and twisted and have nothing but malice toward the living. Goroth’s spirit is perfect for their use.”

The Elf nodded and Charika turned back to him.

“Thank you for protecting me,” she said and he smiled and bowed slightly, then looked at Alexandra.

The woman frowned slightly. “Are you saying I’m in danger as well?”

He nodded.

“From who?”

“Goroth. Lastharos.”

Alex shook her head. “Goroth has no body so he can’t hurt me; and I’ve killed Lastharos’ minions before; I can do it again.”

The Elf frowned, then paused as if noticing something neither woman could hear. He said something else, then stood and vanished into the shadows of the far corner.

The two women looked at each other.

“What did he say?” Charika asked.

“Hide.”