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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“Do you think she leads us into a trap?” Orophin asked Naveradir in a voice inaudible to mortal ears.

“She did not disarm us; likely she is not,” his companion replied.

The woman walked ahead of them, Kidur just behind her, looking over his shoulder occasionally to see if they were following and wagging his tail when he saw them.

“Besides,” Naveradir added with a smile, “the dog likes her.”

Dehlina moved with surefooted grace over the treacherous rocks in the mountain passes, climbing without seeming effort, not speaking to either of the Elves. She seemed disconcerted by their presence, but not terrified as others had been when first encountering their kind. Perhaps she had never heard evil stories of their people.

“In here,” she told them as she rounded some boulders and they saw a hidden entrance to a cave. If one was not searching for it the entrance would remain invisible.

The ellyn paused. In the open was one thing; leading them into a cavern? Quite different.

“You wish us to accompany you? Then we will not do so without drawing our weapons. A cave is an easy spot for an ambush.” Naveradir’s voice was not accusing, though he saw the woman’s eyes narrow.

“You do not trust me?” she asked with a scoff. “If I wished you dead, I could have done it before now. But unsheathe your weapons; it matters not to me.” She turned and entered the cave, Kidur following, his expressive eyes appearing apologetic as he glanced back at the two Elves.

The passageway was a labyrinth yet Dehlina moved through the darkness with sure steps. Nothing seemed amiss and both ellyn suspected there was no real danger to be wrought by their guide. Their natural instincts, however, kept them alert and soon they could hear faint, soft voices ahead.

“I found something that may be of interest, my lord,” Dehlina said to someone sitting with his back to them. He stood and turned, but what caught the eyes of Orophin and Naveradir was the one sitting with him.

“Erestor?” Orophin did not try to hide his relief and pleasure at seeing their friend and both he and Naveradir went and embraced the dark-haired ellon who seemed equally glad to see them.

“How did you escape from Lastharos? Are you injured?” Their questions were many as were his.

“How did you find me? What of the others?”

Naveradir turned to the man who had been speaking with Erestor.

“Thank you for your care of our friend, my lord.” He started to say more then realized he was speaking to an Elf. Glancing at Dehlina, he suddenly saw the resemblance---they both had grey eyes though hers had flecks of amber that were visible in certain light.

Orophin had turned to add his thanks and noted the strange ellon at the same time. He looked to Erestor for an explanation.

“My friends, may I present Maglor. He rescued me from Lastharos’ prison and brought me here. He has shown great hospitality these past days and I owe him my life.”

Naveradir and Orophin both bowed respectfully to the ellon and thanked him for his care of Erestor.

“You share the same name as the foster father of Lord Elrond,” Orophin commented, noting the ellon’s dark hair, grey eyes---eyes that he now saw Dehlina shared---and imposing stature.

Maglor smiled. “It is because I am the same Elf,” he replied in a somewhat sad voice. “Or at least, it is the same body. I am no longer the same inside.”

Orophin did not let his shock show. Maglor was said to have vanished into the sea after casting away his silmaril. Yet here he stood, far from the lands he roamed in the First Age.

Naveradir nodded slowly. Though he did not know Maglor or his history, he understood change.

“I know of what you speak,” he told the ancient Noldo. “I too am not the same Elf I was many thousands of years ago.”

“Forgive me,” Erestor cut in, realizing Maglor did not know these ellyn. “This is Naveradir of Rhun and Orophin of Lothlorien.”

Maglor bowed to the ellyn. “You are far from home, my lords. Come, sit and eat. Dehlina, you should eat as well.”

She nodded and knelt next to the fire, ladling some of Maglor’s stew into a dish and handing it to Naveradir, then one for Orophin. She prepared a bowl for herself then sat back, the dog lying between her and Maglor as Erestor once again took his place next to the fire.

He and Maglor quickly filled the ellyn in on what had happened since his capture though he did not go into detail about what had been done to him or his experiences with Siensia. The theory about the prophecy and Helcarin, however, piqued their interest considerably.

“Lastharos fears something from the northwest? Interesting,” Naveradir mused. Looking to Maglor, he asked, “Is there a way into the city? We could not find it.”

The Noldo nodded. “It is hidden in these mountains. If you do not know where to look, you will not find it. I discovered it by accident myself when I arrived here. It is what I have used to help some of the slaves and prisoners escape.” He glanced at the female sitting next to him and smiled fondly. “It is how I met Dehlina’s mother.”

The woman did not say anything, but reached up and took his hand, squeezing it before letting it go and resuming her meal.

“Dehlina is your daughter?” Naveradir asked, taking a spoonful of the savory stew.

“Yes. Her mother was a … refugee from Lastharos.” His tone was delicate as he chose his words.

“She was his bastard whom he kept as a slave,” Dehlina replied in a matter-of-fact tone. “Do not cushion things, Ada. She told me of her life and of what happened to her mother.” Looking at the other three ellyn, Dehlina continued, “She was abused by her father after he had her mother killed for his amusement. She managed to escape when one of the other slaves ran. They took her with them out of sympathy and Ada met her in the tunnel as he was leading them out.”

“She had only just reached her majority as a mortal, yet had suffered years of abuse at the hands of her own father.” Maglor’s voice was tight as he remembered what the woman had told him of her childhood as Lastharos’ slave. “Yet she was so beautiful and kind-natured. She had hair as soft as silk and as black as midnight in the caves of the Dwarves. Eyes of deep amber, skin as smooth and soft as satin and the color of dark honey. She was exquisite.” His tone had softened as he described the mother of his daughter and the others could see he had loved her deeply.

“What happened to her?” Naveradir asked quietly.

“She passed, as mortals do, to the Fate of Men over four-hundred years ago. She is buried deeper inside this cave.”

They glanced at Dehlina. Though she did not have the pointed ears characteristic of an Elf, she obviously was living the life of the Eldar to appear so young after so long.

“Her daughter carries that same beauty,” Orophin said with a smile and the others nodded their agreement.

“I am not as beautiful as my mother,” Dehlina replied with a blush, “but I think you for your kind words.”

Her skin held a glow as if light shone through the dark honey that had characterized her mother’s own, a gift from her Elven father. Naveradir caught her eye and she blushed again under his scrutiny.

“What happened in the battle after I was taken?” Erestor asked, breaking the silence.

“The creatures withdrew shortly afterward and Naveradir and I set out to track you. The rest were tending to the wounded mortals. There were a few survivors though there would have been none had we not been there.”

Erestor nodded at Orophin’s words. “So Helcarin … he is safe?”

The Lorien Elf smiled at Erestor’s paternal concern. “He was fine when last I saw him. He is particularly beloved of the Valar, I believe. He is safe.”

“Not if Lastharos gets his hands on him,” Erestor muttered. “No one is safe from that madman.”

“If Lastharos’ armies are headed toward Rhun, then there is the chance they will meet up with the others,” Orophin mused. “Do you suppose they have yet encountered his force?”

“Let us hope not,” Maglor replied. “It is said they were ordered to leave none alive in their path.”

“Will they follow his orders?” Naveradir asked. “Surely they will not wish to kill their own people.”

“They dare not disobey. Lastharos holds their families and slaves hostage. Any disobedience and they will be branded traitors and their entire household put to death: their children, wives, parents, brothers and sisters and their children, grandparents, and all of their slaves. The death of a traitor’s family or slave is horrendous.” Maglor’s eyes showed his revulsion.

“What is their fate?” Orophin asked curiously. Surely nothing Lastharos did could shock him now.

“They are impaled on stakes with their hands and feet tied behind them, and these stakes are set in the ground surrounded by huge cauldrons of boiling water. The fires are kept stoked and the water replenished as the steam slowly cooks them.”

There was utter silence in the cave as Maglor’s deceptively calm words hit the Elves like a blow. Orophin simply could not comprehend such cruelty while Erestor found it beyond what even he had seen in Lastharos’ prison. Naveradir, who had thought his father the most heinous of beings, simply shook his head in disbelief.

Finally, Erestor found his voice. “So none defy him.”

Maglor shook his head. “Not if they are wise.”

Naveradir thought for a moment. “Then, perhaps if Lastharos could no longer hold their families hostage, they would not be so inclined to follow his orders.”

“That would entail killing Lastharos,” Orophin replied, “and I would be quite happy to do so.”

“It is not so easy to get close to him,” Maglor replied, then told them of his missed opportunity. “He does not trust any.”

“What would pique his interest?” Orophin asked.

“Besides another Elf to torture?” Erestor shook his head. “I do not think there is anything he enjoys except his cruelty.”

“What if he met someone who shared his interests and offered him something he could not resist?” Naveradir asked slowly.

The others looked at him.

“What do you suggest?” Maglor inquired.

Orophin’s thoughts ran along the same lines as Naveradir’s.

“He would not be able to resist an Elf; especially one who vaguely resembles the one he allowed to get away in Mordor.” He knew it would mean his death, but it would protect many and he was shocked to realize that deep inside, he felt pain and loneliness that he knew would never relent, not as long as he dwelt in Middle-Earth.

“I could pass for a Rhunian warlord,” Naveradir began. “One who has come into possession of something of great value to Lastharos.”

“No!” Erestor and Maglor spoke at the same time.

“You cannot go to Lastharos with an Elf,” Maglor continued. “He will torture you until you die.”

Orophin nodded. “Perhaps it would serve as a distraction though,” he laughed ruefully, “I had hoped to go to the Blessed Realm without passing through Mandos first. And who says I would die? Perhaps we might kill him before I am too damaged.”

“You will not do this thing,” Erestor told them firmly. “I will return to him; he can do nothing worse to me than he already has.”

“Did Maglor risk his life to get you out of Lastharos’ clutches only to have you walk back into them willingly?” Naveradir countered.

“And did Siensia not say the Valar had another task for you?” Orophin added. “I do not think getting killed is it.”

“And you think your torture and death would please them?” Erestor retorted.

Orophin sighed. “There is no certainty I will be killed, but Erestor, I am not afraid. If my death can do some good … can help rid Arda of this heinous monster, then I willingly offer my life.”

Erestor shook his head and studied the fire for a moment then leaned close to his young friend.

“What of your brothers? Do you not wish to see Haldir and Miriel bound? Rumil and Charika perhaps do the same?” His voice lowered until it was almost inaudible. “Do you truly wish to leave Alexandra?”

Orophin looked into the calm, midnight-blue eyes of the older ellon. Sweet Luthien’s smile---was he that obvious to everyone?

“She is safe in the love of her beloved husband,” he finally answered softly. “It is perhaps the best solution to our dilemma if I do this.”

Erestor remained silent a moment then nodded.

“Very well. I will not try to stop you any longer. Perhaps it is Eru’s will that the two of you do this … insane deed.”

Maglor had remained silent during the exchange and wondered at the words Erestor and Orophin had spoken. Did the young ellon perhaps harbor inappropriate feelings for the wife of another? It was not his place to question however. His sins were far worse.

“I am certain I have something that you can wear to cover your ears,” the ancient Noldo told Naveradir. “And Orophin needs nothing more.”

“Perhaps he should appear as your slave,” Dehlina suggested and Naveradir could not resist smiling. Orophin raised a brow and Erestor laughed.

“The lady has a point. His slave, his prisoner, his lover---something that would explain you being with him.”

Orophin nodded. “I suppose so. If I had dark hair then we could choose who the slave was but my Sindarin and Silvan heritage are against me.”

The others smiled grimly and set about the task of readying the ellyn for their infiltration.