Gifts 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.
**********************************************************

“Prince Legolas and his lady seem quite happy,” Helcarin commented as he and Saelbeth walked through the forest to Erestor’s modest, but elegant dwelling.

“They are very much in love and completely devoted to one another,” the Elf replied. “His choice of a mortal wife seemed strange to some, in the beginning. But any who have seen them together can have no doubt they were brought together by the Valar.” He glanced at his companion. “How long has it been since you’ve seen them?”

Helcarin knew he did not mean Legolas and Alexandra. “Almost a thousand years. When I went to my mother’s land in Forodwraith, I knew we would probably not see each other again until we met up in either Mandos’ Halls or the Undying Lands. But we still exchange messages on occasion”

“Your life---it has been good?”

“It has been … interesting,” Helcarin laughed. “The north is so different from this place, or from Imladris. I rode through the Greenwood---I hear it has been renamed Eryn Lasgalen---and it felt strange to see no Great Spiders.”

“Did you visit Thranduil?” Of course he had. The King, Legolas’ father, allowed entry into his kingdom of Northern Eryn Lasgalen, formerly Mirkwood, only by his will.

The other Elf smiled. “Yes indeed. He was quite surprised to see me. I believe he thought I might have followed my mother’s fate. He was quite gracious, though I could see he has suffered much. The loss of Baliel took a great toll on him.”

A shadow crossed Saelbeth’s expression, as he was reminded of his own loss. Then he smiled and clapped his young friend on the shoulder. “Thranduil is resilient, as is his son.”

“They seem much alike. How did he take Legolas’ choice of mate?”

Saelbeth laughed. “How do you think? Still, events conspired and he saw her worth and he could not deny her love for his son. He simply wished to spare Legolas the pain of losing a bondmate and beloved wife. It is the natural desire of a loving father.”

Helcarin nodded. He well-understood protective fathers.

They arrived at Erestor’s home and entered. The raven-haired counselor was seated in his study, manuscripts scattered about in orderly stacks surrounding him. When he looked up at their entrance, his midnight-blue eyes, so dark they seemed almost black, widened in surprise. He stood, and walked around the desk to where his visitors were waiting just inside the door.

“Helcarin?” he whispered, as if afraid his eyes were deceiving him.

“Aye, father,” the golden-haired Elf said, and the two embraced. Erestor closed his eyes as he held his son in his arms. It had been over a millennium since he had last seen his only child and he was shocked at the depth of his emotion. Other Elves had departed Middle-Earth during his considerably long life, and he had not felt much sorrow; he knew they would meet again in Valinor. But his son had gone into the frozen north, from whence his mother had emerged, and Erestor had feared he would never see the extraordinary gift the Valar had given to him, again.

Their embrace finally ended and Erestor stood back. “You look well, my son,” he said. “Apparently, the cold weather agrees with you.”

“It is a very different life from the one I knew in Rivendell,” Helcarin replied.

“I shall leave the two of you to your reunion,” Saelbeth said with a smile.

“Thank you, my friend. You have brought me a most welcome surprise,” Erestor said, his eyes drifting back to his son.

When Legolas’ cousin had left, the former Counselor of Rivendell poured two goblets of wine, handing one to Helcarin. The two Elves sat in comfortable chairs near one of the windows in the study, and the younger Elf looked at his father. Erestor had not changed at all in the years since last they’d seen each other. His glossy black hair was worn loose, with only a thin braid or two, much like Helcarin wore his own golden locks. He had inherited Erestor’s dark eyes, but not his exquisite cheekbones. He had also inherited his lips. They were finely chiseled, though Helcarin smiled more often than the ancient counselor. His father was not dressed in the heavy, formal robes so many had worn in Rivendell, and the simple dark blue leggings, black boots and lighter blue tunic made him look much younger than his six-thousand or so years.

Father and son spoke of the many things that had happened since last they had seen each other and Erestor felt great pride that his child had led a noble and relatively peaceful life. When he had chosen to go into the land of his mother, Erestor had thought it an unwise decision. But, it seemed to have been the right one, for Helcarin had been spared the horrors of the last millennium in Middle-Earth; he had not been forced to fight in the War of the Ring, nor had he been threatened by Sauron’s evil. Erestor had the natural inclination to protect his child.

“There are many different kinds of Elves here,” Helcarin said. “I see some of our kin from Rivendell, Mirkwood, the Galadhrim---it seems Prince Legolas has quite an eclectic collection of the Firstborn.”

“Yes,” his father laughed. “We are now simply Elves. No more distinctions between cultures or divisions. I suppose, we are known now as the western Elves, since we have kin in the east who are quite different.”

“I should very much like to meet our eastern cousins,” Helcarin said, wistfully.

“Then do so. Vanurion and his people would certainly welcome you.” He took a sip of wine. “Have you seen Glorfindel yet?” he asked.

Helcarin shook his head. “Lady Alexandra said she had seen him earlier today, but he was not here when I arrived.”

“He will come,” Erestor said, knowingly. “He will sense you.”


Glorfindel sighted his target, a single cone from the tall evergreen over 1000 paces away and near the top of the tree. He let fly the arrow and saw it strike its target. He smiled. Even though he had not the skill of the Silvan Elves such as the Galadhrim or Legolas’ Mirkwood kin, he thought himself not a bad archer. The sword was his weapon of choice, however, and none had ever bested him in a battle involving blades.

He had been Chief of the House of the Golden Flower in Gondolin during the First Age, having come to Middle-Earth from his home in Valinor. He died slaying a Balrog so the survivors of the fall of Gondolin could escape; and after a time in Mandos’ Halls, was re-embodied and once again dwelt in Valinor until the Valar sent him back to Middle-Earth where he became the guardian of Rivendell for Elrond.

He sighted the cone yet again and once again his arrow flew true, slicing through the cone next to his other arrow, cutting the cone in half and letting the cone and his arrows drop. He ran lightly to the spot where they had fallen, his magnificent golden hair floating out behind him like a silken cloud in the breeze. Only the top part was caught back in a single braid so there were no locks to obscure the vision in his vivid, sky-blue eyes. He was tall, like all Elves, and his frame was supple and smoothly, yet powerfully, muscled. He wore boots, leggings and a tunic of complementary shades of green and light blues, and his braces were a deep golden color.

He scooped up his arrows gracefully, without even pausing, dropping them into the quiver on his back. He liked Ithilien and visited it often. Now that Imladris was no longer so active, he found himself spending more and more time with Legolas and his kin. He also spent time in East Lorien with Celeborn and the Galadhrim who decided to remain with their lord until he crossed the sea, as well as in northern Eryn Lasgalen with Thranduil, Legolas’ father. But most of his time was spent in Ithilien.

He liked Legolas and enjoyed the company of the Elves who had chosen to help the land to heal after suffering so long from the evil of Morgoth and his servant Sauron. Though he did not have the same sense of connection to the land as his Silvan kin, he found their presence comforting. Besides, he was reluctant to leave Middle-Earth while things were still so interesting. Already, in only a few short years, he had accompanied his young friends as they went to war against the men of Harad and Rhun; into battle against the forces of Morgoth and his servant Maelweth in northeastern Middle-Earth and northern Eryn Lasgalen; pursued the decadent and despicable Lord of the Elves of Rhun to his fortress and brought justice to him and his minions; and fought against the supernatural servants of a mysterious man of Khand in Mordor. Yes, Middle-Earth was still an interesting place to be.

While in Ithilien, he stayed with Legolas and Alexandra; in fact, his rooms were kept just for his use whenever he chose to visit. He spent most of his time with Saelbeth and the two friends would often end up with various females, both elleth and mortal, with whom they enjoyed some sport. They found mortal women seemed especially enthralled by their striking good looks, aura of vague danger, and their blonde hair. They found it odd that their hair color should be so intriguing---there were plenty of blonde mortals. But for some reason, women never seemed to tire of running their fingers through their hair. Not that either Elf was complaining …

He had known Saelbeth as one of Elrond’s counselors. Saelbeth’s parents had dwelt in Imladris, though they were Sindarin and kindred of Thranduil’s wife, Baliel. He had also become good friends with Erestor, though the three were an unlikely triumvirate. Erestor was quiet and sedate---typical of the Noldor, though Glorfindel himself was also counted as Noldorin. However, due to both being among Elrond’s closest confidants and advisors, they found a friendship developing. The young Sindarin Elf looked to the two Noldor as mentors and so the three became abiding friends.

At first, Glorfindel and Saelbeth had thought Erestor too quiet and reserved to be a stimulating companion. Then, after a few trips together on various business dealings for Imladris, they discovered their quiet friend had another side entirely. His acerbic wit and keen intellect were matched by his skill with a blade. His archery talent was admirable, but he was the only other Glorfindel had met who could give him a true challenge when sparring.

When seeking companionship, women and elleth were drawn to Erestor’s dark beauty in a way different from the one that called them to Glorfindel and Saelbeth. It amused the two fair Elves that while females draped themselves over them, with Erestor, they were more like supplicants awaiting his favor. His somewhat distant, somewhat haughty attitude---surely, the Galadhrim had taken their demeanor from his cue---seemed to inspire a kind of devotion, especially in certain types of females, that his friends found an utter mystery.

Then, Siensia had appeared and things had become even more mysterious.

As if invoking her name in his memory had called it, he suddenly sensed a familiar presence; one he had not felt in millennia. Surely, it was not … No, she had returned to Manwe over a thousand years ago. Yet the presence was infused with her being. Hers and …

He immediately set out for the part of the forest where most of the Elves dwelt. After all this time, he would finally see him again. He ran swift and surefooted, skipping over barriers without conscious thought. He was being drawn to Erestor’s house. Of course, where else?

He dashed up the steps and into the cool corridor. He knew Erestor would likely be with his books. The presence was strong here and he stopped in the doorway of the study, staring at the two Elves who had ceased their conversation and were looking at him with identical dark blue eyes.

“Helcarin?” he asked, scarcely believing his eyes.

The beautiful Elf with Erestor’s eyes and Glorfindel’s hair smiled and stood.

“Hello father.”

Glorfindel embraced Helcarin, thanking the Valar that he had been allowed to see his son again. He had some doubts that the other Elf would make the journey to the Undying Lands. Even after all this time, the ancient Elf-Lord feared his only child would choose the path of his mother and be lost to his Elven kin forever.

“You are traveling east? In the name of the Valar, why?” Helcarin patiently explained his desire to remain in Middle-Earth for a bit longer. Erestor watched the two Elves with amusement. He, too, could understand the urge to stay in Middle-Earth for a few more years---he had not yet left; but, like Glorfindel, did not understand the desire to go further from Valinor, into the East.

“I have dwelt in the land of my mother for almost a thousand years. I would see Cuivienen.”

Both of the older Elves shook their heads.

“The waters of the awakening no longer exist,” Erestor said.

“How does anyone know? Who has been back since the Great Journey?” Helcarin had spent his formative years debating with Erestor, Glorfindel, Saelbeth, Golradir, Elrond---he had learned from the finest minds of the Noldor in Middle-Earth.

His fathers looked at each other. The Elf had a point. No one had tried to return since the Great Journey. Still …

“Do you not wish to go to the Undying Lands?” Erestor asked, somewhat bewildered. He could not imagine not desiring life in Valinor. Glorfindel, having been born in the Undying Lands, always dwelt, at least partially, in that place. But he, too, could not imagine resisting the call. Then again, neither Elf wished for their son to be lost to them forever, and if he remained too long in Middle-Earth after they departed, he, like the children of Elrond, would lose his chance to choose his path, though he had apparently chosen the life of the Eldar when he had left for Forodwraith in the far north of Middle-Earth almost thousand years earlier.

“Of course I do, father. But I have learned much about my mother’s land and origins. Does it not follow that I should wish to do the same with the beginnings of my fathers?”

“Well, my beginning was in Valinor,” Glorfindel said matter-of-factly.

Helcarin’s laugh was light and easy. “I know that. However, the Elves awoke at Cuivienen. Have you never wished to see it? Even though the rumor is that it was destroyed, only the Valar know the truth of it.”

Erestor sighed. “Your choice is your own, my son. But know that we would both have you come to the Undying Lands when the time comes.” He smiled at the younger Elf. “You do not have children, so you do not understand … do you?” In fact, he did not know if his son had married and had offspring of his own.

Helcarin shook his head. “No, my lord. There are no grandchildren … of which I am aware.” At the dark-haired Elf’s shocked expression, he added, “I know---I would have chosen to have children. I simply wished to see your reaction. From what your messages said about our eastern kin, apparently one can share seed with a female without binding to her. Mother was not an exception.”

“But that is not the way of our kind,” Glorfindel said. He would not look at Erestor; they both well knew it was possible to father children without binding.

“But it is possible,” his son countered. “Therefore, there are other things which may be ‘said’ or considered ‘the way of our kind’ that may turn out to be false.” He laughed. “Do not look at me with those forbidding expressions. I am your son and you made me what I am: inquisitive and challenging of all assumptions. Just because something is believed does not make it a truth.”

They were forced to admit the young Elf was correct. He had learned well under their tutelage and that of the others who taught him in Imladris. After all, his very existence challenged assumptions about the Firstborn: the son of two Elven fathers.


Saelbeth made his way back to Legolas and Alexandra’s house. He had business to discuss with his young kinsman, though the arrival of Helcarin had driven all thought of such mundane matters from his mind. When he arrived back at the house, he found Haldir and his brothers, Orophin and Rumil, lounging about the Great Room of the manor.

The three brothers, all Wardens of Lothlorien, had joined their friend in the colony after the Golden Wood was abandoned following the departure of Galadriel to the west and Celeborn to East Lorien. They had shared all of Legolas and Alexandra’s adventures over the past few years, along with Saelbeth, Glorfindel and the others of their inner circle, including Elrond’s twin sons, Elladan and Elrohir.

The brothers shared an arrogance peculiar to the Galadhrim, though it was actually confidence and justified pride. Still, they could be quite haughty when they so desired.

“If you are looking for the pride of Mirkwood and his lady, they are in their private garden,” Haldir said as he glanced up from the chess game he and Rumil were playing. Once Alex had taught the Elves the game native to her land, they had all become fascinated with it. Orophin was stretched out on the couch, Dexter and Dita, Alexandra’s two small brown and white spaniels, sprawled across him, mesmerized by the massages they were receiving from his long, elegant fingers. He opened one eye and gave Saelbeth a slight nod of greeting.

“I do not suppose it is safe to disturb them,” Saelbeth sighed.

“Is it ever?” Haldir retorted. “Those two will never grow tired of each other. If Alexandra is not going to have children, then their craving for one another will forever remain as sharp as when they first bound. May the Valar help us.”