Will of the Valar

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but the original characters and their adventures. The Tolkien Estate and New Line Cinema own Middle Earth and its regular denizens.

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Their journey was necessarily slow because of the condition of the Lady of Ithilien. They paused several times a day so she could gain respite from the jarring of the cart. Alex smothered her impatience and endured the seemingly endless journey with relative good grace.

She spent much of her quiet time seeking her husband through their bond. His calm, reassuring love was a balm to her irritated mind. She thought how he would be amused to see her playing nurse-maid to a pregnant Eowyn. She knew she was far from schooled in the proper womanly arts: she couldn’t cook, sew or do her hair; but she made up for it in other ways and had no complaints from her lord.

She and Eowyn spoke little, but did manage to have some fairly decent conversations. She directed the topics toward Eowyn’s childhood in Rohan and the ways of her people. Alex had met Eomer, Eowyn’s brother and king of Rohan, on a few occasions, as well as his wife Lothiriel, daughter of Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth. She didn’t know much about them and so Eowyn’s observations were quite interesting.

The most fascinating of their talks involved Eowyn’s slaying of the Witch King during the Battle of the Pelennor toward the end of the War of the Ring. The prophecy that the Witch King would not be slain by the hand of Man had been made by Legolas’ friend Glorfindel millennia earlier and it was proven true when Eowyn, with the help of the Hobbit Merry, had brought the foul creature to his doom.

Alex did not really like Eowyn that much, but she certainly respected her and found herself enjoying the journey in spite of everything. When the white city came into view, she was almost sorry to see their travels end.

Riders had gone ahead to announce to Queen Arwen that Lady Eowyn and Lady Alexandra would be arriving, so they were welcomed as soon as they reached the palace. The chief steward, Berrien greeted them graciously and they were shown to their customary rooms. Alex was in the chamber that had always been Legolas’ before their marriage and there were little touches of him all around. They brought her both comfort and a touch of sadness. She missed him terribly and sought him in her heart, drawing comfort from their bond.

Lothiriel, wife of Eomer, was also visiting in the absence of her husband, so Arwen was at no loss for company. The young queen of Rohan was somewhat awed by her sister-in-law and the wife of Prince Legolas. They were both known for their fighting prowess, and she found them terribly exciting, if a bit scandalous. Eowyn had disguised herself as a man and ridden into battle at Pelennor Fields and slew the Witch King. While she had not won a decisive battle that rid Middle Earth of evil on the scale of Sauron, Alexandra had journeyed into the east with Legolas before their binding, and helped to recover Sauron’s palantir; meted out justice to Dunlending raiders on the Rohan borders; and done battle with a demon in Mirkwood.

The ladies ate dinner that night in Arwen and Aragorn’s private dining hall. There was much discussion about the impending birth and plenty of old wives’ tales told. Alex contributed little to the conversation, simply making sure she kept anything salty out of Eowyn’s reach.

Lothiriel, at one point in the evening, turned to her and asked, “So, do you know when you and Prince Legolas will begin a family?”

Accustomed to fielding these types of questions, Alex smiled and demurred smoothly. “We do not have any plans right now. We’ll see what the future has in store.”

Arwen, who knew that Elf-kind typically chose the date and time of conception, looked at her friend appraisingly. Legolas would know, and so would Alex. If, that is, they planned on having children.

The next morning, Ioreth came to the palace and examined Eowyn. She put her on a strict diet of fresh fruit and vegetables, meat, and milk---no cheese or salty foods. Alex refrained from saying “I told you so”, but the look she gave Eowyn was quite smug. Ioreth also instructed the Lady of Ithilien to remain in bed or reclined until her confinement. Otherwise, she said, the babe seemed to be in good position and healthy. He had to be a boy because of how active he was in the womb. Indeed, Eowyn could often be seen grimacing and holding her belly where the child was kicking.

Lothiriel and Arwen were quite involved in the excitement of the coming birth; Alex, not so much. She knew the basics of childbirth, but had no real desire to experience them first hand. While the others embroidered booties or something equally useless, she plundered and poked through the libraries of the palace. She wasn’t sure if she learned anything useful, but everything she read, she stored for future reference. Even things that were believed to be dead and gone and ancient history, were often vital in Middle Earth.

One early afternoon, she was sitting on the balcony railing outside Eowyn’s rooms, reading about Beren and Luthien, while Lothiriel and Arwen did needlework and chatted with the expectant mother. A sudden cry from Eowyn caused her to look up in surprise. Lothiriel leapt up with a slight squeal as a gush of bloody fluid saturated the couch on which Eowyn lay.

“Get Ioreth,” Alex instructed the young queen as she and Arwen helped Eowyn to her bed. Alex wasn’t sure, but she didn’t think the fluid that came out when the water broke was supposed to be bloody.

The healer in Eowyn also knew something was amiss. She bit her lip in order to avoid crying out when her pains began. Arwen fetched a basin of cool water and gently wiped her friend’s face as sweat had already drenched Eowyn’s body. Alex stripped off the lady’s gown and helped her to put on a cooler, less restrictive tunic.

Eowyn tried not to scream, but the pain was agonizing. She had not realized it would be so painful birthing her own child. Somehow she’d thought she could control the agony. Alex, who saw her struggling against her desire to cry out, sighed in exasperation.

“Oh, for Pete’s sake, Eowyn, go ahead and scream if you feel like it. Go with the pain. The more you tense up, the worse it will be.”

The lady closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. It was unbearable. Following Alex’s advice, she let a groan issue forth with the contraction. It seemed to help a bit.

Lothiriel returned with Ioreth and the healer examined her patient. She frowned at the pinkish fluid that had soaked the lady’s gown, and had Arwen and Alex help Eowyn hold her legs open so she could examine her.

“You are not yet open enough for the babe to come. Try not to push when the pain comes.” Turning to Lotheriel, she asked the young queen to fetch several items from the kitchens. She instructed Arwen and Alex to keep Eowyn from pushing if possible, and then went to her bag, which she’d placed on the table by the door, and began looking through herbs.

“There is something wrong,” Eowyn whispered,

Arwen leaned over her and spoke soothingly. Alex watched as the Elven queen helped her friend to calm down and relax. When the next pain hit, Eowyn did not cry out as loud and Alex was once again struck by the seemingly magical ability Elves had to almost heal with a touch.

The labor was long and hard, and Ioreth and her assistants worked quickly and steadily to help assure a successful delivery. The healer breathed a little easier when no further signs of bleeding were evident in the laboring mother. Alex had, at first, started to leave when the healer’s assistants arrived. Surely, they needed the room and she was of no use, but Eowyn held her arm in a death grip.

“You promised,” she whispered hoarsely. “You will see that my child is safe.”

“I swear, Eowyn, I will be right here. I will not leave the room. But the healers need to get to you and I am in the way.” Alex felt odd being depended on by Eowyn. She never thought the lady would find comfort in her presence.

Arwen remained close by as her presence helped ease some of the birthing pain. Alex and Lothiriel waited near the doors leading to the balcony, out of everyone’s way. The woman was amused at the young queen’s slightly fearful eyes as she took in everything that was going on.

“Will she be alright?” she asked Alex in a low voice.

“I hope so,” the other woman replied. “I must confess, I know nothing about having babies.”

“Did your mother not teach you?” Lothiriel asked curiously. Truly, Lady Alexandra was strange.

Alex laughed. “Oh, I know where they come from and how they’re born. I just don’t know the technical parts.” At the young woman’s blank look, she added, “I’ve never seen one born before.”

Lothiriel’s reply was cut off by the sound of a tremendous scream from Eowyn followed by a weak cry of an infant. At least it started off weak. It soon grew into an earth-shattering wail. They went back to the part of the room where the bed lay, and saw Eowyn holding a tiny wriggling bundle. She looked exhausted, but happy.

“A boy,” Ioreth proclaimed proudly. “He seemed reluctant to make his entrance, but finally, he slipped into the world.”

As Arwen and Lothiriel cooed over the infant, Alex looked at it and felt some mild disgust. It was all pink and wrinkled and looked like a giant slug. She had never understood people’s fascination with babies. She supposed it wasn’t bad for a child.

“He’s beautiful,” she said, and thought she sounded quite convincing. She even managed a smile. When Eowyn offered to let her hold him, she declined graciously. “He should bond with his mother. My people believe it is important for a newborn child to not be passed around too much, or else it may not have strong ties to its parents.” Sounded logical to her.

The next few weeks passed quickly. Eowyn insisted the child’s crib be put immediately next to her bed, and the wet-nurse slept in the same room. Alex had feared Eowyn might insist she also sleep in the room with the child since she was its supposed guardian, but as he grew and thrived, Eowyn’s prenatal fears seemed to recede, for which Alex was extremely grateful.

One night, Alex awoke to a frantic knocking on her door. She cursed and stumbled to the door, opening it to find one of the maids.

“Begging your pardon, my lady,” she said with a nervous curtsey, “But Lady Eowyn is calling for you.”

Alex didn’t bother to put on a robe, but walked straight to Eowyn’s chambers wearing only a thin undertunic that barely reached her knees. When she arrived, the new mother was sitting in a chair, holding the child, to whom she’d given what Alex considered the rather absurd name of Elboron.

“It is here,” she whispered. At first, Alex’s sleep-dulled brain did not comprehend what she was saying. Then, realization dawned.

“Did something happen?”

“My vision came back. The same thing. This room, this crib, my child, and the shadow. Then, you came and handed him to me.”

“Eowyn,” Alex tried to sound reasonable, “ Perhaps the shadow you saw was the danger you and your child faced had you remained at Emyn Arnen. I told you about it and came with you to Minas Tirith, so maybe that is how I protected the child in your dreams.”

The other woman considered her words. “It is true, your actions did protect him.”

“Besides, I’ve heard that women who are about to give birth, or who have just recently done so, often have dark thoughts and fears. It’s only natural for a new mother.”

Eowyn nodded. “I know of those things as well. But Alexandra” her eyes were pleading, “do not return to Ithilien just yet. I am still uneasy.”

Smiling, Alex assured her she was going to stay with her until Faramir came home or she was compelled to return to Ithilien.

If Eowyn had further bad dreams, she didn’t share them with Alex. Things calmed back down and Alex once more fell into the routine of reading in the Minas Tirith library during the day and listening to the other ladies chat about children in the evening.

One night they were seated in Arwen’s salon when a sudden noise from the hall caught the attention of Arwen and Alex. It was far away and the other two could not yet hear it, but Alex and the queen exchanged sharp looks. Alex motioned for Arwen to remain where she was, and arose to investigate. She reached out to turn the handle of the door and, at the last moment, jumped out of the way, avoiding the slamming open of the door by a group of strange men.

They had somewhat golden, fair complexions, which appeared tanned from much time spent in the sun, and straight, silky black hair. Their eyes were beautiful if one could get past the coldness in them. They were almond-shaped and slightly slanted, reminding Alex of her friend Charika, whom she knew to be of Haradrim descent. Their dress was black and strange and their speech even stranger. They looked around the room and then stepped aside as a man, obviously their leader, strolled in. His men closed the door, some remaining outside to guard it, four others inside with him. He surveyed the four women with arrogant eyes, then spoke.

“I am Goroth of Rhun. I am surprised your king left you with such little protection. My men were able to make it into the palace having only to kill some 20 or so of your guards. You may feel free to scream all you like. These walls are thick and there are none who can aid you,”

“What do you seek in Minas Tirith?” Arwen asked in a neutral tone of voice.

“You are the queen of Gondor?” Goroth asked. She nodded and he looked at the other women. “And you would be …?” he asked Lothiriel.

“I am Lothiriel, queen of Rohan, daughter of Prince Imrahil of Dol Amoth.” Alex had to admit, the young lady came through when things got tough. She didn’t flinch and spoke clearly; probably a result of having been born into royalty.

His eyes fell on Eowyn and before she could speak, he answered for her. “You are the White Lady of Rohan. I have heard of you. You are now the wife of the Steward of Gondor and Prince of Ithilien. And what is that you have there?” He moved quickly between her and the crib where Elboron lay sleeping, oblivious to the drama surrounding him.

“Do not touch my son,” she said in a low, even voice.

“Or what? Your husband will kill me? He is on the southern front, wasting his time trying to kill my brethren.”

“I will kill you myself,” she said, fingers clenching as if gripping a sword.

Goroth laughed and walked over to the crib. Eowyn tried to rush to her child, but one of Goroth’s men grabbed her and held her back. She glared at the Rhunian leader with hatred and a touch of fear.

Goroth ignored her and picked up the sleeping infant. “Such a pretty thing,” he whispered, and his voice made the seemingly innocuous compliment sound obscene. “Has his father even seen him? I know, I would not want to be away from my wife should she be giving birth in times like these.” His smile was not comforting.

Alex, who had remained quiet during the exchange, spoke up.

“The child is my responsibility,” she said. “You will not harm him or the lady will indeed kill you, and I will help her.”

“And who are you?”

Alex did not answer, just met his cold gaze with one of her own. Lothiriel opened her mouth to inform this … savage, that Alex was the Lady of the Elves of Ithilien, wife of Prince Legolas of Eryn Lasgalen, and daughter-in-law of the Elven King Thranduil. But something in Alex’s eyes stopped her and she looked at Arwen who was staring intently at Lady Alexandra.

“She is my kinswoman,” Arwen said. It wasn’t exactly a lie---all Elves were related in one way or another, and Alex was married to an Elven prince whom she and Aragorn considered one of their family.

“Indeed?” Goroth smiled and looked at Alex appraisingly, reaching out to lift a lock of her hair and run his finger under her chin, brushing over her breast as he brought his hand back. To her credit, Alex did not shrink from his touch and her calm demeanor surprised the man.

“You may accompany the child, lady, and I may let you live … if I find your service satisfactory.”

“Indeed, where the child goes, so do I,” Alex said in an even tone. “You will not harm him.”

“NO!” shrieked Eowyn, breaking free from the Rhunian who held her. “Leave my son alone! You will not take him!” She almost made it to the man who held her son prisoner, but was snatched backward by two of his troops. She fell to the floor, still struggling and Arwen and Lothiriel rushed to her.

“Stop this at once!” the Gondorian queen ordered, and for a moment, even the invaders paused to listen. “You will not harm us or you will have the wrath of three kingdoms brought down upon you.”

“Three?” the Rhunian leader looked around. “I see only Gondor and Rohan.”

“You forget the Elves, Goroth,” Arwen replied. “My kin will not let this insult go unpunished.”

“The Elves are too busy trying to keep your husband and his friends from falling. But, they could prove troublesome.” He did not seem overly concerned.

He handed the child to one of his men and walked over to where Lothiriel and Arwen comforted Eowyn. Bending down he studied each in turn.

“You would be quite the treat for me and my men,” he murmured. Lothiriel felt her skin crawl as he looked over her body. “You are quite young and fresh, and your husband has been away in battle for a long time. Unless you have taken lovers in his absence, you are no doubt still relatively innocent.”

Looking next at Eowyn, he smiled evilly. “You are fiery, my lady, and would present quite a challenge. I must admit my admiration for your husband---any man who can tame one such as you is worthy of respect.” The lady in question looked at him defiantly and said nothing.

Lastly, his eyes fell on Arwen. “You are the epitome of what a man desires: beautiful, elegant, mysterious.” He traced the delicate point of her ear before wrapping his fingers in her luxurious hair. Pulling it toward him, he inhaled her scent. Her natural Elven reserve allowed her to endure his attentions gracefully, but her gaze remained cold. “A She-Elf would be an exotic delicacy.” He laughed softly, knowing she was revolted by his touch and his words.

After a few moments of strained silence, during which Goroth enjoyed the ladies’ discomfort, the Rhunian leader turned to his men. He gave orders to secure their escape from Minas Tirith, then turned to the one holding a still-sleeping Elboron.

“Take the child and I will meet you at the rendezvous point.” He ignored Eowyn’s cries of outrage and spoke to Arwen. “Tell your king we have the son of the Steward of Gondor, nephew of the King of Rohan. If he wishes to have the child live unharmed, he will withdraw his forces from southern Gondor and will cease his persecution of our people.”

Turning to leave, he noticed Alex standing quietly in a corner, watching the interplay between the Rhunian leader and the other three women. He walked over to her and studied her, an unsavory gleam in his eye.

“You will come with me. I have been too long with only my men for company. It will be nice to hold a soft body against mine for a change.” Arwen’s breath caught and Lothiriel’s eyes widened. Surely, Alex would kill him where he stood. Instead, the woman surprised them.

“I will come with you, but only to care for the child. A company of mercenaries and savages such as you and your men, know nothing about the proper care and feeding of an infant.” She did not look at the other women, but kept her gaze fixed on the Rhunian. He smiled slowly and nodded.

“Indeed. You shall take care of the babe---as well as anyone else requiring your services.”

“May I please tell my kinswoman farewell?” Alex asked, trying to sound sincere. “And there are things that the child will need that I should gather. I promise you, I will not try to escape. We are far above the city and your men guard the only door. Where would I go?”

He tilted his head a bit, studying her for signs of deceit, but could see nothing to arouse his suspicions. He gave a quick nod and went to the door to confer with his men still guarding the entrance.

“You cannot submit to him!” Arwen was outraged. “You know what they will do to you when you leave here!”
“Yes, I know exactly what they want with me.” She did not look at the Elven queen as she gathered some fresh diapers and cloths for swaddling the infant. She prayed she could remember how all of this was done, wishing, now, she’d paid more attention to them as they talked of babies. She’d never cared for a child in her life. Catching Eowyn’s eye she continued. “Someone has to see about the baby. He won’t risk taking any of you, but he doesn’t know me.”

“But if he knew your husband was Prince Legolas, he would not harm you …” Lothiriel could not imagine Alex refusing to invoke her husband and his family for protection.

“It is best to let one’s enemy underestimate you once you are engaged,” she told the Rohan queen with a bitter smile. “Your husband would tell you this is true.” Turning to Eowyn, she said, “I swear to you, Eowyn. I will not let him harm your son; I will protect him with my life.” She gave the distraught woman’s hand a quick squeeze before turning to the Rhunian leader as he reentered the room.

“I am ready, Goroth,” she said in what she hoped was a convincingly submissive tone. She wondered if she were truly ready for what the Rhunian leader had in mind.

“Very well.” He addressed the remaining ladies. “When we leave, we will be gone from your realm. We are not staying here to hinder your calls for aid. By all means, send word to the kings of Rohan and Gondor informing them of what has transpired. They need to know what we hold to ensure their compliance with our demands. Ladies.” He gave a mocking bow and swept out the door, one of his men holding Alex’s arm as she was taken out behind him.

They remained silent for a moment after the departure of the intruders. Eowyn was in shock, staring blankly, tears streaming down her cheeks. Lothiriel was still trying to figure out why Alex would willingly go with men who were surely going to … to … force her to submit to their disgusting desires. Arwen left the young queen of Rohan to care for Eowyn and ran into the halls until she found one of the maids. Apparently, the Rhunians moved with stealth akin to that of the Eldar, as none left alive had been aware of the breach of the palace until the queen raised the alarm.

Eowyn was assisted back to her chambers and Lothiriel remained by her sister-in-law’s side. Eowyn clutched one of Elboron’s tiny gowns and refused to let go. She would not sleep or eat, only lay curled into a ball weeping silently.

The bodies of guards were found secreted in out of the way locations so that unless they were missed, the corpses could have gone undiscovered until the smell alerted others. Arwen sent riders to Emyn Arnen, the Elves of Ithilien, Edoras in Rohan, and to the southern front, informing those in authority of what had transpired. After considering for a moment, she also dispatched a messenger to Eryn Lasgalen in order to let King Thranduil know his daughter-in-law had been taken. If the Rhunians were not concerned about the Elves, they obviously had never faced Elven wrath.