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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Elrohir and Haldir emerged from their Elvish sleep as footsteps approached. In the pre-dawn gloom they saw several men coming up the hill to where they rested.

“It appears we are about to take a journey,” Elrohir murmured to his companion, who nodded.

The men kept swords drawn and several had bows drawn on the Elves as two others pulled them to their feet.

Their hands were kept bound together until metal shackles were placed around their wrists and tightened. The connecting chains were long enough so they could step through them, leaving their hands bound in front of them. Longer shackles were placed around their ankles and they were then ordered to walk down the hill.

The ellyn complied for they knew they stood no chance of escape under their present circumstances. They were lifted onto horses and their feet released only to be re-fastened to the stirrups of their mounts and the chain between their wrists fastened to the pommel of the saddle. The horses were connected by what appeared to be the trappings of a cart, but the lead rope was fastened to the saddle of the large war-horse ridden by Crasthion.

“If you try to escape you will damage the horses and I will kill you,” he told them bluntly.

Haldir raised an elegant brow. “You are not taking others to make certain we cannot escape? You underestimate us.”

“I need no others though we will be watched, I can assure you. You would not get very far.” Crasthion turned back to look at his friends. Peferio was obviously upset and though Vetoran hid his emotions better than the other general, it was clear he was unhappy with this turn of events.

“Farewell my friends. Serve as your honor dictates and die well.”

“Farewell, Crasthion,” Peferio told him. “We shall see you when the battles are over.” He could not believe Lastharos was going to kill the one he loved the most of all of them.

Vetoran put his hand on Crasthion’s knee and squeezed it, hoping to convey some comfort. “It should be me he summons,” he murmured quietly.

Crasthion smiled and covered the older general’s hand with his own. “No, my friend. The army needs you. Lead them well.” Vetoran nodded and stepped back as Crasthion turned his mount and trotted away from the camp, the horses carrying the Elves following obediently.

Haldir and Elrohir exchanged glances, the heaviness of the exchange among the men not having escaped either of them. Perhaps they could use this discontent to their advantage.


“Glorfindel!” Elladan’s cry of delight was caught by the ellon’s sensitive hearing and the Golden Lord turned at the sound, his smile dazzling. Sprinting through the crowd he reached Elladan and pulled him into a bone-crushing embrace.

“Elrohir said you were dead,” he told his young friend without preamble. “I am pleased such is not the case.”

“I would have been had it not been for my rescuers.” Elladan turned to Allase who stood behind him, suddenly shy.

Glorfindel raised a brow slightly then smiled as he studied the female. Taking her hand he bowed.

“Thank you, my lady. We had feared him lost.”

“No thanks are needed,” she answered, looking down at the sudden attention. “Your people have sacrificed much to help us. It is the least we could do in return.”

Soon Vanurion and Sarendir joined them followed by Saelbeth and Helcarin. All were pleased to see their friend though Elladan kept looking for that familiar face so like his own but it did not appear. When Rumil, Legolas and Alexandra finally came down, bringing up the rear of the refugees, he looked in askance to his mentor.

Glorfindel sighed inwardly. “Elrohir and Haldir are not accounted for,” he told the younger ellon. “We are going back to search the city for them.”

“I will come with you.”

“No,” Saelbeth told Elladan, pulling him down to sit beside him. “You and I are of no use in a search and I wager Alexandra will keep us company.” His cousin’s wife opened her mouth to protest and he chuckled as Legolas cut off her no doubt scathing comment.

“Indeed she will, as will Vanurion. You must all heal or you will be worthless in battle.” The look he gave his wife dared her to argue and she thought the better of doing so and simply nodded.

Vanurion, whose hand Allase was cleaning and re-bandaging sighed. “I can still use my sword,” he told them.

“But you have lost a great deal of blood and they do not need you falling about from weakness,” the lady told him as she secured the bandage then gave him a small cup of the same vile medicine she had given Elladan. “Drink this.”

“Yes, my lady,” Vanurion replied, thoroughly chastised.

Legolas kissed Alexandra tenderly and smiled. “We will return after we have searched the city.”

She nodded but clutched his jacket, reluctant to let him go. “What if those things come back? There aren’t enough of you to fight them off.”

“Do not worry, my love. I promised I would never leave you.” He kissed her again then followed Glorfindel, Rumil, Sarendir and Helcarin back to the stairs leading to the temple.

The Elves and Alexandra remained close and they told Elladan about the loss of Pomea and Cunion. He bowed his head and sent a silent prayer to the Valar that their friends find peace.

“Helcarin and Pomea did not have long together,” he sighed, “only a little shy of two years. There are times I wonder if finding one’s true love is worth the pain of loss.”

“They will be together in the Blessed Realm,” Saelbeth assured him as Vanurion nodded.

“With what knowledge that came to Helcarin at Cuivienen, I now have hope for my people. I am sorry they are gone but I know they now have a chance for peace in Aman.”

Alexandra remained quiet and her silence did not go unnoticed by Saelbeth. He mentally cursed himself for bringing up the subject for he knew such thoughts were distressing to the mortal woman. She and Legolas would be parted inevitably because of her mortality and he did not like bringing her pain. To apologize, however, would only compound his error so he remained silent.

Allase came over and knelt next to Alexandra.

“Let me examine your leg,” she said reaching for the tattered area soaked with blood.

“No!” Alex pulled her leg back quickly. She did not want the woman to hurt herself with her blood.

Allase frowned and shook her head. “Be still. You will get an infection if you are not careful. What happened to it?”

“Werewolf’s claws and I will be fine,” Alex answered then paused as she stared at her torn leggings and the cut beneath. The blood had saturated the cloth but had not destroyed it. She was still staring at it, pondering the significance when Allase pulled the cloth away and began washing the wound. The woman showed no sign of being burned by the blood and Alex realized that at some point during her time in Middle-Earth she had lost the unusual traits with which she had arrived, including the one involving acidic blood.

Watching Allase clean and dress her wound, Alex wondered when the change had taken place. Was that why she had been thinking on mortality lately? Was it the reason she was overly-emotional and thinking of herself as ‘weak’? Had it been like this before Cuivienen? Before …?


The ellyn moved through the now-dark and silent city. Their Elven sight allowed them to see quite easily in the darkness of the pre-dawn and their hearing would alert them to any approaching danger for it would be impossible, even for the shadow-figures, to act with stealth with so much rubble around.

Their search began in the city’s center and continued in an ever-widening circuitous route with each building examined and each body checked. They found no more survivors and no Elves, living or dead. By the time they had finished the sun was well up and they were disgusted by their lack of success.

Climbing to the top of the walls that remained intact they gazed at the surrounding countryside surprised when they saw the dark lines of the Khandun army spread to the southeast.

“They will come into the city soon,” Glorfindel said quietly. “They will come to make certain the beasts did their jobs and left none alive.”

“We must not let them find the way out,” Sarendir said with a sigh. “These people cannot return until the army is gone.”

Legolas was watching the army when his gaze was captured by three horsemen in the distance, heading southeast. They were over a half-day’s ride away from the army’s camp and one of the riders had blonde hair, not something common in Rhun.

“I believe I have found Haldir,” he told the others and immediately they followed his gaze. The others did not possess sight as acute as his though Glorfindel could see that it was indeed a blonde rider and the one next to him also wore Elven garments.

“I will wager that is Elrohir with him and they have been taken prisoner.” He looked to Rumil who was already leaping from the wall to run back toward the temple. The others followed the Lorien Elf, catching up with him just as he reached the stairs.

“Do not be rash, Rumil,” Glorfindel told him, his hand on the ellon’s shoulder.

“That is my brother,” Rumil replied, his clear blue eyes blazing. “There is nothing more for me to do here and I will go after him.”

“We will all go after them, but first we must make certain these people are safe,” Legolas told the agitated Elf.

“If it were not for these people he would not now be a prisoner, Vanurion would not be missing part of his hand, and Pomea and Cunion would still be alive. Do not ask me to be patient when my brother---both of my brothers---may be facing torture and a fate far worse than death at the hands of the Butcher of Khand!”

The other Elves had no response for his outburst, so uncharacteristic of the normally kind and gentle ellon. They could not respond because he was correct; yet they still knew what their duty was and also knew Rumil spoke from anger and frustration.

“We will find them,” Glorfindel told the ellon in a gentle voice. “Your brothers are Wardens of Lorien as are you. To give in to despair and frustration is unworthy of an Elf, especially a Guardian of the Golden Wood. Come; let us see about getting these people to safety and we will go on to follow Haldir and Elrohir.”

The Golden Lord’s words and calm demeanor helped to soothe Rumil’s frayed temper. He bowed his head.

“Forgive me, my friends. I should not have given in to my despair.”

Legolas, recalling his own bout with doubt at Helm’s Deep, nodded, putting his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Come. The sooner we settle this matter the sooner we can bring our friends back.”

The four of them slipped down the stairs and back into the vast underground caverns.


“Do you think Lastharos will kill him?” Peferio asked Vetoran as they walked back to the older man’s tent.

“I do not doubt he will though he will not do it outright. He will toy with him first, force him to watch the torture and deaths of his family and household. Then, he might begin to torment Crasthion personally.” Vetoran sighed and shook his head. “I never thought to see Lastharos turn on Crasthion.”

“Not after he was so fond of the lad’s parents,” Peferio agreed. “It was rare that the Leader should take such a liking to anyone.”

Vetoran nodded. “Indeed; when Crasthion’s father was killed, Lastharos actually mourned him.” He smiled, remembering the Rhunian who had so enraptured the Leader. “His father was indeed quite beautiful, as was his mother. Tall, dark-haired, green-eyed, fair golden skin without blemish---many desired them both though none were foolish enough to approach them while they shared Lastharos’ bed.”

“I never saw his mother though I remember as a child seeing the father shortly before he was killed,” Peferio said. “It is odd to me that Crasthion has never used Lastharos’ affection for gain. Most would have done so without thought.”

“I do not know where he learned such strength of character. No doubt his father influenced him greatly for he never used Lastharos’ favor either.” Vetoran looked out at the rising sun. “Come; let us see what is left of the city. I hope the creatures did their jobs. I do not want to order any more killings.”