Tears of the Valar

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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“Aye,” Maglor replied with a sad smile. “I have been so long from the company of my people, I did not think any lived who would know me. When I saw you had been taken by that creature, I knew I had to get you away as soon as possible. I am sorry I did not manage it sooner.”

“I do not even know how long I have been in his dungeons,” Erestor told him. “Time has lost all meaning.”

“It has been a month since last the creatures brought you into the city. I saw them fly in with you though I did not know who you were at the time.” He handed Erestor another cup of cool water from the stream as he put a pot over the fire to heat. “I will have something more for you to eat in a bit, but here is some of the flat bread that is used in this land.”

Erestor took the odd bread gratefully and took a small bite, wary of his sore throat. It was flavored with some warm herbs and spices and Erestor was surprised that he finished the entire piece of bread.

“Do you make this?” he asked Maglor.

The other ellon nodded.

“I have had much time alone to learn many things.”

“Tell me how you came to be in Khand, in sight of Lastharos himself,” Erestor requested. It was amazing how much better he felt having fresh water, bread, a relatively soft place to rest and the company of another Elf.

“Only if you tell me how you came to be captured by the fell creatures,” Maglor countered with a smile.

As the stew over the fire began to lend its scent to the area, Erestor told the ancient Elf of Helcarin’s quest and the adventures they had met on their journey. He also told of Lastharos’ deeds in Mordor when his creatures had taken Legolas and Charika. As he finished off his second bowl of the savory vegetable stew along with some cheese, he leaned back, belly full and feeling like an Elf again for the first time since being taken from the field of battle.

“Glorfindel was sent back to Middle-Earth by the Valar?” Maglor shook his head. “I had thought him dwelling in the Blessed Realm for his valiant deeds in defense of the survivors of Gondolin.”

“Apparently they thought he would be of better use here, and they were correct. Now it is your time to tell how you ended up in Khand,” the dark-haired counselor told the other ellon with a weary smile. “You were thought to have perished somewhere in the sea.”

“For many millennia I did wander along the shores of the sea, all the way down around the edges of Middle-Earth until I came to the Anduin and crossed over into Harad. The people there did not seem to know much about Elves and I found they feared them. I kept my identity hidden and managed to make my way performing various tasks to earn enough to keep me alive, though I did not know why.” His face shadowed as he thought upon the pain he had endured for so long and the terrible sins that weighed upon him.

“I thought the Valar would allow me to die and cast me into the void, but it did not happen and eventually, I found myself going to places where, at some point, I managed to help someone. They were not great deeds of valor, but seemed to make an impact on the people I helped; and I came to believe that possibly the Valar had left me some means of redemption, though I can never fully atone for all of my sins or the sins of my House.”

Erestor was quiet for a moment, considering the Elf’s words. With the things he had seen, he did not doubt there was some reason that Maglor had been spared.

“It seems fortuitous for me that you are here,” the Imladris counselor finally responded. “I have no doubt Lastharos would have killed me simply to see what it is like to watch an Elf die.”

“If he had another Elf, he would have done so. He did not wish to lose the only one he had in his possession,” the other ellon replied dryly. “No doubt if he had an elleth, he would try to breed you together so he would have even more to torment.”

“How long have you been in Khand?” Erestor asked curiously.

“A bit over 1000 years. I have seen this madman destroy beautiful creatures for his amusement. He seems to particularly enjoy butchering anything fair or innocent. He tries to corrupt everything he sees. He is quite an evil man and I have longed to kill him.”

“Why have you not?” Erestor asked.

“I have tried not to take life anymore. I did so much of it in the past; but Lastharos is so evil, I would gladly spill his blood.” He looked away, seemingly ashamed. “I have done what I can to help others escape from his clutches, but I have only been in contact with him once and was unarmed at the time and we were in a public place. His guards surrounded him and there was no opportunity though I should have at least attempted to eliminate him.”

“It is not wise to attempt to do so unless there is a reasonable assurance of success,” Erestor replied quietly. “No doubt, he is no fool and few would have the opportunity. Only someone whom he trusts and can be alone with him or get close enough the guards cannot stop them might have some chance at success.”

Maglor nodded. “And I do not have that opportunity. So, I have continued to help prisoners and slaves escape when possible, slain his dark creatures when one strays too near to me. I continue to have hope that his people will eventually revolt against him. He treats them like his personal playthings, taking his supposed lovers from their ranks, bedding them, using them, then sending them back to their husbands or wives when he tires of them.”

“Does he have children?” Erestor asked, wondering what happened to them if he did. The same fate might await Charika’s son if Lastharos was to learn of his existence.

“He has had a few through the millennia, from what I have been told. Some were even treated reasonably well, though most were begotten from slaves or prisoners. If he allowed the babes to come to term, they were treated just like any other slave or prisoner, which means they did not live very long. Some, I am told, he did not wait to be born and cut them from their mothers’ bellies and slaughtered them as the females wailed and died from the loss of blood.”

The disgust in Maglor’s voice echoed the revulsion in Erestor’s mind as he heard of more of Lastharos’ twisted ways. He thought back to the tortures he had been forced to watch as he himself was tormented by the Butcher of Khand.

“Lastharos knows no mercy,” Erestor murmured. “He should expect none.”

Maglor cast a sharp glance at the other Elf. “Do you have any suggestions as to how to rid Arda of this abomination? I would be happy to assist in anyway I can.”

Erestor shook his head. “Not yet, unfortunately. But I was not allowed to go to Mandos for a purpose.” At the other ellon’s quizzical look, Erestor explained about fading and meeting Siensia and her words.

Maglor listened with amazement as Erestor told him of Siensia and how she was Helcarin’s mother. He found hope in the tale as well: apparently the Valar had not abandoned his people.

“Perhaps your task is to kill Lastharos,” he finally said as Erestor finished speaking.

“I do not know, but I would not object to doing so. It is time someone destroyed his debauchery so the people could rebuild their land.”

His words caused Maglor to look up with a slow smile.

“There is a prophecy the holy men of this land have been reading for several months, almost a year. Each one has seen the same signs in the blood of their sacrifices. The sun will set on Khand and a new sun will arise from the northwest to burn away the old ways and purify the land by washing it in the tears of the Valar. Lastharos had hundreds of slaves sacrificed in hopes of finding something different in the prophecy, but it was the same in every case.”

Erestor frowned. “What has that to do with me?”

“Perhaps not you, but your son is from both the west and the north; he has found the Sacred Waters. Did you know that once they were called the Tears of the Valar for the destruction of the lamps and supposed destruction of Cuivienen? Surely, he and your friends will come for you and from what you have told me, I do not believe they will be merciful toward Lastharos, who is certainly the oldest mortal in Khand.”

Shaking his head, Erestor thought on Maglor’s words. “I do not know … surely not.” But deep inside, he suspected Maglor was correct. It certainly fit everything else: Helcarin’s mysterious birth; his urge to seek Cuivienen; his journey south to find the only Elves who knew of Lastharos and had cause to destroy him; his actual finding of the sacred waters … It had been as though the Valar had a hand in every part of his life. What Maglor suggested was not so unbelievable.

***

The blow snapped the man’s head back and he flew several feet backwards before landing on the cold stone floor.

“What do you mean he is gone?” Lastharos’ tone was cold yet full of anger. “Did he die? You were ordered to keep him alive.”

“No, Great One; he is no longer in the dungeon. He is no longer here.”

Lastharos’ eyes narrowed and he walked over to where the guard still knelt on the floor.

“He escaped? From your charge?” Without another word, the Khandun leader snatched his dagger from his belt and plunged it into the man’s eye, yanking out the eyeball as the guard screamed in agony. He took the other eye just as quickly then ordered the other guards to take the offending man away.

“Throw him in the serpent pit. Let us see how long he can avoid their fangs without his useless eyes.” The others knew better than to argue as they grasped the sobbing man and dragged him from the room while Lastharos whirled about and stalked through the room, muttering curses regarding the stupidity of those around him.

Sui remained silent, trying to shrink small enough to avoid his attention. She was next to his throne where he could use her as he desired and she was afraid he would take out his anger on her; in fact, she was certain he would do so.

She had been forced to watch as he tortured the Elf since Lastharos found his prisoner’s torment arousing. Sui had been kept around to provide release for the leader as the fair Elven flesh had been cut, marked, whipped and otherwise put through many agonizing paces. She had never seen such a creature before and thought him almost unbearably beautiful. Perhaps that was what Lastharos desired---the destruction of beauty.

“He could not have escaped without help,” Lastharos murmured to himself. “Someone helped him.” He stopped his pacing then looked directly at the slave beside his throne. “Someone in this very palace is a traitor!” Within two strides he had reached her and lifted her by the harness and collar he forced her to wear. Pulling her close he gazed into her eyes.

“It pleases you to see my desires thwarted, does it not?”

“No, O Light of the East,” she gasped as she fought to breathe. “I wish nothing but your happiness.” The sharp points of the metal spikes inside the harness and collar dug into her soft flesh.

Lastharos’ smile was not kind. “Well then, I suppose you will have to take his place.” He dragged her to the center of the room and chained her wrists above her head and her legs apart then tightened the bonds until she was stretched painfully open and vulnerable. Taking his whip he began to lash her with cutting strokes.

“His flesh healed quickly when I took his skin. Let us see how long it takes you.”