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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Alexandra muttered a curse under her breath as she and Legolas ran quickly back to the main cavern where the survivors waited. The rocks were irritating, the sand and dust in the cave was irritating—everything was irritating to her.

Legolas paused and looked over at his wife and raised a brow.

“You seem perturbed, my love. What is wrong?”

“Everything,” she snapped, then sighed. “I’m sorry. I’ve had it with these caves. I want to go home, Legolas. I want to see our dogs, make love in our garden, wear pretty clothes—I’m just sick of Lastharos. Can’t we just kill him and be done with it?”

Her husband listened with a touch of amusement. When Alexandra was irritable, no one would have peace.

“I believe that is the plan,” he said in a soothing voice. “I promise, my love, Lastharos will not live beyond our time here.”

“Good,” she replied. “I’m—,” Her words cut off as a sudden bout of nausea overwhelmed her and she caught hold of Legolas’ arm and turned to the side, gagging though nothing came up.

Legolas held her, waiting until her dry heaves diminished then looked at her with concern.

“What is wrong? You are ill?”

She shook her head slightly. “I don’t know. It just hit me all of a sudden.” Wiping away the tears that had welled in her eyes from the strain, she took a deep breath. “It’s gone now, I think. Do you have any lembas or anything dry to eat? Maybe I just haven’t eaten anything today and it’s not sitting well with me.” She did not mention the dizziness she had been feeling off and on over the past few days—weeks, even. It had not been too bad and she thought it might have something to do with not eating enough, the heat, the constant traveling, and fighting. There was no need to worry him needlessly.

He took out a piece of the dry Elvish bread and handed it to her, watching as she nibbled tentatively at it until it was gone. She then took another breath and nodded at him.

“Let’s go,” she said. “I’m ready to get this over with.”

He agreed but watched her with concern, holding onto her hand as they moved through the dim caverns.

***

Allase broke the surface of the lake alongside Elladan and turned to him, eyes alight with excitement.

“Did you see the city under the water?”

He smiled at her tone, like that of an eager child.

“Indeed I did. It is lovely, is it not?”

“Oh, I want to go back, to see it again,” she said.

He took her arm as he laughed. “When you have taken your things to the shore, we can swim back out here if you like and see more of it.”

She sighed, but knew he was correct. Following him to the shore, she saw Rumil and another Elf as well as a man. As she and Elladan emerged from the water, Rumil handed her a blanket to wrap around herself so she could allow her clothes to dry.

“There is some privacy behind these rocks,” Rumil told her with a smile. “You may get out of your wet clothes there.”

“I have nothing else to put on,” she told him as she went toward the rocks.

The man, who had been silent, spoke up.

“I have an extra shirt if you would like to wear it until your own clothes dry.” He rummaged through his pack and found the garment, tossing it to the woman.

She nodded her thanks then went behind the rocks to change clothes.

“Lovely,” Haldir commented as Elladan began stripping off his own wet clothes. The dark-haired ellon glanced at his friend.

“Indeed she is. She cared for me when I was injured though she would be lovely under any circumstances.”

Haldir raised a brow but said nothing else as the topic of their conversation emerged, hanging her damp clothes on the branches of one of the trees, Crasthion’s shirt far too large for her, but at least covering her.

She was acutely aware of being the only female among the Elves and this man. Looking over at the man she smiled.

“Thank you. The air here is warm and dry so it should not take my gown long to dry.”

“It is no hurry. I do not need it,” Crasthion replied. She looked familiar to him and he caught himself staring at her.

“What is it? Do I have something on my nose?” she asked, brushing her hand over her face self-consciously.

Shaking his head he chuckled. “No, I am sorry, my lady. You simply remind me of someone … my mother, actually. Where is your home?”

“I was born in Naraketh,” she replied, combing through her wet hair with her fingers.

“I was also born there,” Crasthion answered, smiling. “My mother was of that city as well, though my father came from Rhun.”

“Really?” She stopped with her hair and laughed softly. “My father was of Rhun originally as well. It is said my mother died giving birth to me and I was given to some of her relatives to raise. My father visited from time to time though I heard he was in service to the leader of our land.”

“As was my father,” Crasthion said, then added, “My mother died giving birth to a child. I was told the babe died as well.”

“I am sorry. I always wished to have brothers and sisters. It is lonely being an only child.”

He nodded in agreement. “Indeed it is, but there are times when it is a blessing. At least I have no family Lastharos can hold hostage against me.”

She had resumed trying to straighten her hair but stopped again at his words.

“Why would Lastharos use your family against you?”

“I am one of his generals and I have displeased him by trying to show mercy,” he replied, turning away.

“You … you were responsible for those things … the attack on our city? Your own home?” Her voice rose as she began to shake with fury.

Crasthion turned back, seeing the rage in her eyes.

“Yes, I lead the Khandun army. We were told to kill all in our path and I tried to find some way to spare our people, and for that treason, I am returning to Fwaban to be executed along with my entire household as a traitor.

“I wish I could be there to stoke the fires that punish you,” she said as Elladan and the others, hearing their exchange, came over.

Putting his hand on her shoulder, Elladan looked to Crasthion. The man did not seem hurt or angered by her words. Instead, his entire attitude was one of resignation.

“Come, Allase,” Elladan said, “Let us find some spot to rest and I will untangle your hair.”

She did not reply, but wordlessly turned away from the man—the murderer of her people and allowed the Elf to guide her to a secluded area some distance away.

Haldir and Rumil exchanged glances as Elrohir joined them, having caught the tail end of the little drama.

“Are the two of you related?” he asked Crasthion as he stripped off his wet clothes.

The man shook his head. “No, I do not know her.”

“You look a great deal alike,” the ellon continued. “Do you not agree?” he asked the other two Elves.

“Indeed, there is quite a resemblance,” Haldir replied as Rumil nodded agreement. “In fact, from what you told us of your life, the two of you have remarkable similarities—both had fathers from Rhun, both had mothers that died in childbirth, both were born in Naraketh, you both appear to be fairly close in age.”

“The child my mother bore was killed by my father at Lastharos’ command and it was Lastharos’ spawn,” Crasthion spat as if the very idea of his mother bearing that monster’s child caused a foul taste in his mouth.

“Are you certain?” the Lorien Marchwarden asked softly.

Crasthion did not answer and stalked away, back to the rock jetty into the lake, his favorite place of retreat and contemplation. The three Elves watched him leave with expressions of bemusement.


“ He is responsible for all of this … this killing!” Allase said as she slumped to the ground, her back against a tree.

“He did what he was bound by his duty to do, yet still he tried to spare your people at the risk of his own life and that of his household,” Elladan replied in a gentle tone, kneeling beside her. Her face was flushed and her breathing ragged as she fought back tears of anger. “Lastharos is the cause of all of these problems. Do not judge Crasthion too harshly.”

“That is easy for you to say,” she retorted. “You and your people come here out of curiosity and when you are tired of us you will go back to your palaces and opulent lives in the west. The rest of us are without our homes, our families, our friends—.” Her voice choked off in a sob as she put her hands to her face.

Elladan watched her shoulders shake with emotion as she cried and reached out, pulling her into his arms.

“Do not cry, little one,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head softly as he stroked her back. “I will let nothing harm you sweet Allase.” He held her as she cried, her tears wet against his chest. Eventually her sobs subsided and she rested in his arms like a worn-out child.

“I am sorry,” she whispered in an embarrassed tone.

Elladan hooked a finger beneath her chin and lifted her face so he could see her and smiled.

“Do not be ashamed of your feelings,” he told her, before planting soft kisses on her cheeks, her closed eyes, erasing the tears. “I am sorry for the loss of your home. If I could change what happened, I would do so without hesitation. I do not like to see you hurt, my beautiful Allase.”

She managed a small smile.

“No one has ever called me beautiful,” she admitted with a blush.

“Then they were blind or fools,” he replied, smiling as he brushed a thumb over her soft lips. Such beautiful, perfectly shaped lips …

Elladan lowered his mouth to hers, pressing their lips together gently. His hand cupped her chin while his other arm held her against his body as her lips parted beneath his. He brushed the tip of his tongue gently over her soft mouth, tracing the outline then slipped it inside to barely touch the tip of hers.

Allase was taken aback at first, but yielded quickly, slipping her hand up into his damp, silken hair. The touch of his tongue to hers ignited a desire deep inside of her like none she had ever known. She let him guide her with his mouth and could not help the soft moan that escaped.

Elladan broke their kiss and looked down into her eyes. Her breath was quick and she searched his face with longing. Smiling, he once more brought their lips together as he lowered her back onto the soft ground so their bodies could mold to one another.

***

The Khandun army moved southeast and it was no surprise when the Dark Force began to murmur among themselves. No killing was going on and they did not like it. One of the vampires left during the night to tell Lastharos of this new treachery.

Peferio worried. “If Lastharos finds out we—.”

“He will do what?” Vetoran asked. “We are the army.”

“We do not control all of the army. There are still those in the south, in the east and in the northeast. And then there is the Dark Force. If they turn on us we will be slaughtered.”

“Apparently they can be defeated,” his fellow general replied. “The Elves and the people of Naraketh seemed to be able to kill quite a few of them.”

“Yes, well, we are not Elves,” Peferio snapped. He shook his head. “We will all be killed as traitors.”

“Cease your whining,” Vetoran ordered in a quiet but firm voice. “It is unworthy of you, Peferio. We are soldiers and have made our decision. Do not retreat from it now.”

The younger man looked away then nodded. “Forgive me. I … Lastharos has ruled forever. His cruelty is legendary. He will not take kindly to disobedience.”

“We are the only army in Khand right now. There are none but the guards of Fwaban to oppose us. Look at our men. They do not like this killing of our own people any better than we do and I do not believe we are the only ones who feel this way.”

“You are correct,” Peferio replied. “I was wrong to give into despair.”

Vetoran did not answer though inside he was concerned about Lastharos’ reaction to their defiance. He prayed that the prophecy was true and Lastharos’ downfall was at hand.

***

“He has been gone too long,” Dehlina fretted as she and Orophin lay curled up together on the vast bed in their chamber.

“He knows what he is doing,” Orophin replied quietly as he kissed her cheek. He was troubled, though he would not say it to the elleth. She was tense and he wished her to be at ease. She would tire herself before any battle could be fought.

“We should not have let him go alone,” she whispered.

“Naveradir is an old, very skilled Elf,” he replied. “Do you doubt his abilities?”

“No, I just do not trust Lastharos.”

Their conversation was cut off as the door to their chamber opened and the subject of their speculation entered carrying a bundle wrapped in his cape. He glanced at the watching places.

“Our host has given us a treat,” he told them with a smile. Unrolling the bundle, Sui’s bruised and battered body rolled onto the bed. The woman did not move and only Elven sight could see she still breathed. “She will be dead soon so we can do as we please with her,” he added.

Dehlina and Orophin extricated themselves from their embrace and moved over to the woman’s body, blocking any view anyone watching might have.

“Can you tell me how to get to the escape tunnel? She will be killed if we do not get her out of here,” Naveradir said as he kissed Dehlina.

“I will send a message with Cie—I mean, Kidur,” she replied before slipping from the bed to write a note which she tucked in the dog’s jeweled collar. Anyone watching would have seen nothing but the woman petting her dog lovingly. “Go to ada,” she whispered in the dog’s ear then opened the door.

The guards in the hall looked at her with obvious appreciation. She had not bothered to dress and knew they would be somewhat distracted by her appearance.

“He must tend to his business,” she told them with a smile. They were accustomed to Kidur coming and going from the palace as he went to relieve himself and so thought nothing of this trip.

The dog trotted off, his tail wagging lazily as if he had nothing better to do than go take a nice, relaxing break.

***

Erestor looked up as the dog trotted into the cavern where he waited with Maglor. The other Elf put down the wind instrument he was playing and stood. Erestor put away the book he was reading and went to the ellon’s side as Kidur sat down in front of him and barked once.

Maglor searched the collar and found the small note inside of it. Opening it, he read quickly.

“They wish to have us meet them in the tunnel so they can get one of Lastharos’ prisoners out,” he said. “It does not say what else has happened.”

“Then we will ask them when we see them,” Erestor replied. “I would gladly help any to escape,” he added, recalling his own tenure in Lastharos’ care.

“Of course we will assist them,” Maglor said, writing a reply and slipping it back into the collar’s hiding place. “I want them out of there. The longer they remain, the closer they are to discovery and Lastharos’ torments.”

“Do you think Khand will fall if Lastharos is dead?” Erestor asked his friend as Kidur ate from his bowl and drank some water before heading back out to return to the city.

“I do not know. They will need a strong leader to hold them together. Lastharos has been all they have known for thousands of years. His loss would create a void, but someone would need to step into place. Perhaps this ‘new sun’ of the prophecy.”

Erestor considered his words. “Do you think the ‘sun’ the prophecy mentions is a person? One man? Or a group of people? Perhaps even new understanding?”

“I do not know. I only hope it soon burns away this corrupt leader they have now. Anything would be better, I believe, than Lastharos.”