Blessed by the Valar v2

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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The information gleaned from the Madam led Legolas and Alexandra further into the east. They suffered from the occasional attack from more Haradrim, but managed to escape each time. Legolas knew, however, it would only get worse, and he was not going to lead Alexandra into further danger. They reached a rather large village where he decided it would be best if she remained in its relative safety until he could secure his goal from the Haradrim Lieutenant of Sauron. He refused to risk her safety.

They argued for several days as he made preparations to leave her at the local inn. It was not the most comfortable place, but it seemed to be fairly clean and safe. When the time to depart came, she was still angry, but had given up trying to change his mind. Arguing with an Elf was as bad as arguing---or trying to---with a stone wall.

“I must go alone, Alexandra. You will be safe here.”

Alex sighed in exasperation. Despite her past in the military, Legolas clung to these outdated notions of chivalry. Mortal women don’t put themselves in harm’s way. She would scream, if it would help, but she knew such a display would only cause her embarrassment and her friend some amusement.

“You know I trust you as a friend and as a comrade-at-arms. But where I must go, there is much danger of which you have no experience and I would be required to guard you from harm.” He gripped her shoulders and looked straight into her eyes. “You know I speak the truth.”

The sad thing was, she did know he was right. Sure, she could help out with straightforward things, like bandits and such. But it was true, she was unaware of many of the dangers of this place, while Legolas had lived his considerably long life facing things she could only imagine in nightmares. It was likely she would only be a hindrance if she went along.

Looking down, she nodded.

Legolas lifted her chin so she was forced to look straight into his clear, blue eyes. He smiled. “I know you are a warrior, and if I were to go into battle, I would want you at my side. But you cannot help me in this.” He leaned down, and to her surprise, kissed her forehead softly. “I will return before the month ends. “

It took her a moment to reply. “I’ll be waiting. Stay safe.” He released her and mounted Arod. Bowing slightly, he turned the horse and rode off.

“Your lord must leave you?” The woman’s voice startled her. Turning, she saw a petite woman standing behind her, a basket on her hip.

“Yes. He has business elsewhere. He’ll be back soon.” She was uncomfortable with Legolas being referred to as her “lord”. It implied a master-servant relationship. Or, even more disconcerting, a personal one.

The woman smiled sadly. “I understand how it feels to watch one’s man ride away when you wish you could go with him.”

“He’s not a man, he’s an Elf,” Alex replied absently, as she watched him disappear into the distance.

“An Elf? Really? I’ve never seen an Elf,” the woman exclaimed. Looking at Alex closely, she asked, “Are you an Elf too?”

“Me? Goodness no.” Giving a rueful laugh, Alex said, “Elves are, apparently beautiful, gorgeous creatures. He’s the only one I know, but he says he’s pretty typical of his people.” She studied the other woman. “Your accent is different from many I’ve heard. Where are you from?”

Her new acquaintance gave a tinkling laugh. “I am originally from deep in Harad. I found myself here when my lord left me, promising to return.” Her face shadowed. “He was killed in the War of the Ring. One of his men came back and told me of their defeat at the hands of the Men of the West. By then, I had settled here, and without him, I had no reason to return to my homeland.” She smiled brightly. “I am Charika.”

“And I am Alex,” she answered. “Let me help you with that. It looks pretty heavy.” Taking the basket, she found it was heavier than it looked.

“Thank you,” Charika said. I have been carrying it from the market and I must admit, I am beginning to tire.” They continued along the street until Charika directed her to turn into an alley on the left.

Alex studied the other woman. Charika was quite tiny next to Alex’s tall, strong frame. Where Alex was fair, Charika was dark with skin like rich, dark honey. Her hair was so black as to be almost a blue-black. She had delicate features and slightly slanted almond-shaped eyes that were a rich gold in color. Her age could have been anywhere between 16 and 60 as she had an ageless look about her. She was dressed in brightly colored clothing, reminding Alex of Oriental styles popular on Terra.

“Here is my home. Please, come in and I will make some tea.” She opened the door to a neat, but not fancy, cottage near the end of the alley. Stepping inside, Alex gasped. There were bolts of exquisite fabric stacked around one side of the room and baskets of lace, bangles, beads, and other trims stood on tables.

“You are a seamstress?” Alex asked as she sat the basket on the floor. There were some dressmaker dummies, of a sort, with some beautiful, if incomplete, gowns. The fabrics were so thin, like gossamer and silk. Very different from what she’d seen the women wearing during their travels. Surely, she didn’t make these for the local women.

“Yes. It was a skill I picked up in my lord’s household. When I found myself stuck here, I began sewing to earn my living. I have made enough to keep myself from going hungry.” She poured tea into two simple cups and handed one to Alex. “It is not luxurious, but I am comfortable.”

They sat and Alex asked, “If you don’t mind my asking, where do you sell these? I can’t imagine many of the women around here would buy them.”

Charika laughed. “No, the women here do not wear these clothes. But caravans come near here, going back to my homeland, and they buy my clothes, and bring me fabrics and trim to make more.” She studied her guest. “You would look good in blue and lavender. Perhaps you could wear white, but stay away from yellow. I would not suit your fair skin at all. I can see you looking very good in black, however. You need rich colors.”

Alex nodded. “I do look terrible in yellow. And white does nothing for me.” Sighing, she continued. “But I have no need of gowns. They aren’t practical for travel, and I haven’t found a place here to settle yet.”

“Oh, but your lord may wish to see you in beautiful clothes. Even an Elf.” She sat her cup on the table. “Please, tell me about Elves. I have heard of them and I am curious. Are they really the murderous demons of my childhood, or the benevolent guardians the people of the West seem to think?”

Alex was taken aback. She’d never heard anything bad about the Elves. But then, she’d been getting her information from an Elf. “Well, I can honestly say, I’ve been in the company of an Elf for several months, and he has been kind, chivalrous, protective and quite benevolent. I’ve never heard of Elves as being evil. Are there Elves in Harad?”

“I have never seen them, but I was always told the Elves would take me away if I misbehaved when I was a child. As I grew, I was taught that if they came to Harad, they would slaughter everyone, man, woman, child---after taking their pleasure from the women.

Alex was aware of staring at the woman. Shaking her head, she replied, “I have never heard anything like that about the Elves. Is that what the people of your homeland think of them?”

“It is what we are taught,” she shrugged. “But, if you say your lord is kind, then it must be so.”

They chatted a bit longer and when Alex arose to go back to the inn, Charika accompanied her to the door. Thanking her hostess for the tea, Alex stepped out and straight into a group of 4 men who were lingering on Charika’s doorstep.

Her hand automatically went to her sword-hilt. She got the distinct impression they were up to no good. Noting that Charika’s open, friendly smile disappeared and she withdrew, Alex knew her suspicions were confirmed.

Stepping further from the door, thus forcing the men to move back, she smiled. “Good evening, gentlemen. May I help you?”

“Stand aside, wench. We have no quarrel with you,” the de facto leader of the group said. It would have seemed more menacing had he not had to tilt his head to look up at her as he said it.

“You have a quarrel with my friend, you have one with me.” She could see them looking at the Elvish brooch on her cape and knew they had probably seen her with Legolas. Her hair covered her ears, so they couldn’t really be sure if she were human or Elf-kind.

“This is none of you business. Now move.” One of the other men decided to try his hand at posturing.

Alex let her gaze fall on this new little rooster. “Well,” she said in a low, pleasant voice, “I’m making it my business. Now,” she looked at each man in turn. “Tell me what the problem is and we will see about a solution.”

She noticed Charika was not saying anything and out of the corner of her eye could see her posture was that of someone waiting for a blow to fall. She’d seen many victims of abuse and torture on many different planets, and they all had that same look.

“We have business with the Southron whore. Now, if you’d like to join in, well, there’s plenty to go around.” She almost laughed out loud as a third man tried to sound suave. The fourth man in the group just stood there in what her grandmother would have called “the amen corner”.

Reaching back, she gently closed the door, telling Charika with her expression to get inside and lock it. With her other hand, she drew her sword.

“Don’t start anything, bitch,” the first man spat. “That Southron trash is good for nothing but to see to our needs. Whenever we want, wherever we want.”

Still speaking in a pleasant tone, Alex pretended to examine her sword hilt. “And what makes you think you have the right to her?”

“Her people supported the Dark Lord in the War,” the fourth man finally spoke.

“And your point is … ?”

“We won. Anything of theirs is now ours.” Man number two said in a swaggering tone.

“You think so? Tell me, with whom did you fight during the war?” Her question was met with silence. “Did you stand with King Elessar at the Black Gates? Or perhaps you were at Pelennor Fields helping take down the mumakil. Oh wait, I know. You marched with the Elves to retake Dol Guldur! Or was it with the Rhohirrim at Helm’s Deep?” With each word she could see their shame. She knew they had not fought in the war. They had stayed here, safe in their little village, and hid from the evil that covered Middle Earth.

“We are men …” began number three and she cut him off.

“You are the most pathetic excuse for men I have ever seen.” Her gaze was cold and they shrank from the menace in her voice. “You wait for others to do the dirty jobs you don’t have the balls to do yourself, then try to claim the victory they sacrificed so much to achieve, as your own. You are weak, disgusting, repulsive creatures who are so useless, you feel you must try to bully and destroy the lives of others in order to make your own shitty lives seem worthwhile. You are a waste of flesh and, quite frankly, I would be doing the world a favor if I severed your ugly heads from your laughable bodies because then, at least you wouldn’t be taking up air and space that your betters could use.”

Like all bullies, the men fell apart when confronted by someone stronger. They stumbled backwards and number four fell on his rear. Years of practice allowed her to watch their ridiculous retreat without cracking a smile, but as soon as they rounded the corner and she turned back to Charika’s door, she allowed herself a silent chuckle.

She knocked softly and called Charika’s name. The door opened a crack and the woman’s fearful eyes peered out at her.

“It’s ok, they’re gone.” The door opened wider and Alex stepped back inside. She noticed Charika was no longer the cheerful, inquisitive woman she’d spent the afternoon with. She seemed ashamed and frightened.

“They will return. They always do.”

“What’s their problem?” Alex sheathed her sword and stood, watching Charika sit in a chair in front of her hearth.

“They come here when they so desire and … use me for their pleasure. They say I am a ‘spoil of war’.”

“How long has it been going on?” Alex tried to keep her voice even, but she was beginning to regret not gutting them---wait, that would have required them to have guts.

“Over two years. Right after the War, there was hope that my lord would come for me. The people of the village left me to myself pretty much and were not hostile, at least not openly. But as time passed and more tales of the War made their way to us, some of the men began to look at me strangely. Soon, they were making comments when I passed them in the streets. Then, one day, the four you just met knocked at my door. I had never had a problem with them before. They forced their way in and … used me. They told me they would protect me, keep others in the town from hurting me if I would just let them do as they pleased with me. I … I was alone and I knew my lord would not be returning and so I did not deny them.”

Alex listened with increasing disgust. Yes, she definitely should have killed them when she had the chance.

“You know, you don’t have to do it. They are weak little worms who are trying to make themselves feel better by trying to lord themselves over you.”

Charika looked up at her, her beautiful almond eyes full of sadness. “You do not understand, Alex. You are strong. You can defend yourself. And I could see, your lord is supportive of you. He lets you stand on your own, but is there to protect you if you need him. He not only loves you, he respects you.”

Alex opened her mouth to object, but Charika continued. “I am alone. I do what I must to survive. My lord did not love me, but he took care of me. I was his concubine, thus I was his property. It is the way I have known my entire life. I learned to sew in his house, to occupy my time while I waited for him to call for me. He had brought me here because he wanted me close enough to visit me as he prepared for war. I was here for his convenience. It is what I have done my whole life. Now, I have new lords. They are cruel, and it sometimes takes days for the pain to subside. At times, I bleed for several days. But they have not allowed others to harm me.”

“Of course they haven’t. You’re their personal victim. They don’t want anyone else around. I’ve seen it before. They isolate you from everyone who would help you to see through their lies. Soon, you don’t know anything but what they want you to know. It’s a cheap trick. Trust me, you do not have to live like this.”

“And who will stand between them and me when you are gone? Your lord will return in less than three weeks. You will leave with him and go back to the West where you are his cherished lady, and I will still be here with people who hate me.”

Alex had no reply. She knew there had to be an answer, but she needed time to look at the options. Sighing, she looked at the frightened woman.

“No one is going to bother you while I’m here. I’m staying at the inn. I will come back in the morning and we will try to solve this problem.” She pressed the heel of her hand between her eyes. “Right now, I need to think, and I have a headache.”

Opening the door, she turned and gave her new friend an encouraging smile. “Don’t worry, Charika. We’ll fix this.”

At the inn, she decided to ask around about Charika and the fouled-up foursome, as she called them to herself. The innkeeper and staff ranged from indifferent to positive in their comments on Charika. All, however, were quite negative about the men.

“So, there isn’t some great resentment toward her in town?”

“Gracious, no, milady,” the barmaid said as she cleaned ale mugs. “She’s always been a sweet little thing, very humble, never causing trouble.” She paused and leaned over to Alex and said confidentially, “Those four, though. They’re nothing but trouble. Trying to act like they’re so tough and rough. They’ve been thrown out of here at least twice a month for years. They aren’t strong enough to cause real trouble, but they are annoying.”

“Thanks,” Alex said, handing her a coin, more than enough for the meal she’d just finished. “That’s what I thought.”

The next day, she arrived at Charika’s cottage at midmorning. When the other woman opened the door, she surprised her by asking, “So, are you going to the market today?”

Charika shook her head. “I cannot. They will try to cause trouble.”

“No, they won’t.”

“Alex, I told you last night, you don’t understand how it is. The townspeople will---“

“Be happy to see you,” Alex finished. At Charika’s doubtful expression, she proceeded to tell her what she’d learned the night before. “So,” she finished, “we’re going to test this theory and go to the market. If there is hostility, I’ll admit you’re right and we’ll work on some other solution. If, however, it goes well, you can free yourself from this slavery and start living your life like you were meant to.”

“But, my lord---“

“Is dead. I’m sorry, Charika, but you can’t go on believe you’re someone’s property. Live your life. Now come on. Let’s go shopping.”

Charika reluctantly allowed Alex to drag her to the market. At first she was wary of the people on the streets. But as she found herself greeted by some friendly, some neutral and none hostile. When they returned to her house, she was in somewhat of a state of shock.

“I never knew---I let them---Oh!” Alex watched with amusement as Charika paced around the house.

“Now you know.”

Alex accompanied Charika on errands for a week, then began just sort of hanging around the periphery as the woman mingled with her neighbors on her own. By the end of the second week, Charika had made new friends and her eyes had regained their sparkle.

Of the foul four, Alex saw them now and then, skulking around the shadows. One evening, she was reluctantly allowing Charika to fit her in a new gown “for when your lord returns”, when the door opened and the loathsome quartet entered, quite drunk and quite belligerent.

Her first instinct was to move between Charika and the men, but she held back. It was important for the woman handle the situation herself.

“You’ve had your little respite, whore. Now it’s time to get back to work.” One of the men was stroking himself through his trousers, causing Alex to almost choke trying to hold back nausea. Surely, they didn’t think they were studly. She vacillated between laughing hysterically and throwing up, ultimately deciding to do neither.

She could see the fear in Charika’s eyes, but held her tongue. The woman stepped toward the men.

“Leave me in peace. You have no right to be here without my invitation.”

The men laughed drunkenly. “Oh, so you think you can just tell us to leave and we will? Not so, bitch. Your friend,” he pointed to where Alex stood silently, “will not always be here to protect you. Then, what will you do?”

Charika surprised everyone in the room, especially Alex, with her answer. “Then, I will kill you myself.” Her voice still held a note of fear, but she stood her ground.

“You? You would be hung before the sun set if you killed us. You are nothing but Southron scum.”

“No, I am the daughter of a Haradrim chieftain who has lived quietly and honorably in this village. That is, until you dishonored me. However, you will do it no more. Now, leave my house.”

To Alex’s surprise, they did. They stared at Charika wordlessly for a moment before heading silently out into the street.

Charika closed the door then turned to her friend, her eyes wide.

“I cannot believe they actually left! I---they left!”

“Yes, they did.”

Charika insisted on giving Alex several gowns. Each had sheer undergowns with tight fitting bodices and thin straps that molded to her breasts and waist before falling in gossamer folds to the floor. The overgowns were silk and some had long fitted sleeves while others had wide sleeves that fell to the floor. They also laced at the waist but were open at the neck and below the waist so the cloud-like undergowns were visible.

One thing Alex did ask for was underwear. She had worn and washed the same pair she’d arrived in, and although the fabric was sturdy, she knew she would need more. She described what she wanted and Charika was able to make her over a dozen pair. They had hardly any material in them, only a small triangle in the front, with twists of the silky cloth meeting in the back and running down between the legs to join the point of the front patch. While they had no elasticity, they were fitted to her so well, they didn’t need it.

“Your lord will be pleased when he returns.” Charika refused to believe Alex’s protests that Legolas was simply her traveling companion, not her mate. “You should look beautiful for him. Here.” She held up a sheer skirt with a jeweled belt that held it low on Alex’s hips and a matching jeweled bra. “This will drive him mad with desire.”

Alex laughed as she looked down at herself in the outfit. She looked like a character out of the Tales of the Arabian Nights. “I’m not trying to drive him mad with desire. It’s not like that. He’s just a friend.”

“Hmm. This you say.” It fitted into Charika’s own view of the world: Alex was Legolas’ ladylove and that was that. Although Charika insisted the clothes were gifts, Alex refused to accept them without making payment. Charika reluctantly accepted Alex’s money, all the while muttering about how rude the western people were---they did not know how to accept gifts with grace.

One day, near the time Legolas had promised to return, Charika visited her at the inn and gave Alex a package wrapped in leather. “You defended me when I thought I was alone. Take this as a token of my appreciation. It is traditionally worn by those who guard the lord’s harem.”

Opening the package, Alex gasped. It was an exquisite dagger of distinctly eastern design. It had a jeweled hilt, giving it a ceremonial look, but the blade was wickedly sharp.

“Charika, I can’t accept this. I---“

“You can and you will.” The Southron woman’s voice was firm. Since she’d found her self-confidence it had grown exponentially. “It is the way of my people.”

“It is beautiful,” came a lilting voice from the door of Alex’s room, and the women turned to see Legolas watching them with a relaxed smile.

Charika stood and Alex was vaguely aware of a veil of unease falling over the smaller woman. However, she was so happy to see Legolas, she ignored it.

Standing she was suddenly unsure of what to do. She smiled at him in welcome. “I’m glad to see you returned safely. I trust you were successful.”

Something flickered in his eyes, so brief she wasn’t sure if she saw it, then it was gone and he strode into the room, taking her hands in greeting.

“I achieved the desired goal,” he answered and she wondered at his choice of words. Still, it was good to see him. She saw him looking in askance at Charika and introduced them.

Legolas bowed in respectful greeting. “I am pleased to know Alexandra made a friend while here. Thank you for your kindness to her.”

“It is I who thank her, Sir Elf. She helped me with a problem I had suffered from for several years. I am eternally in her debt.”

He looked at Alex with a question in his eyes. “I’ll tell you about it later. It’s a long story.” He nodded, then asked if they would like to join him for dinner.

“I must admit, I am looking forward to eating. It has been several we---days.”

They were soon ensconced at a quiet table in the inn’s dining room. Alex could see Charika was still uncomfortable around Legolas. Although their conversation was pleasant, it was superficial. Finally, Alex turned to her companion.

“Are there Elves in Harad, Legolas?”

He thought for a moment. “It is possible, but I have never heard of any of my people so far east. Most Elves remained in the areas to the west. Besides Rivendell, Lorien and Eryn Lasgalen, there are some who lived in the mountains to the north, and maybe a few near the eastern borders, but no, I do not believe there are any Elves in Harad. Why do you ask?”

Alex gave Charika a chance to explain, but the other woman would not meet her eyes.

Sighing, she turned back to Legolas. “It seems the Haradrim use Elves to threaten good behavior in their women and children.”

“Truly? What do they say about us?”

This time, Alex wasn’t going to let Charika avoid her fears. “Tell him what you told me.”

The Southron woman sighed. “We were told the Elves would steal children and would rape and kill us if they ever reached our lands. The Elves, they told us, were cruel and wanted to wipe out our people. That is why so many supported Sauron in the War. He told my people the Western men and the Elves would overrun our country and kill us because they hated us.”

To his credit, Legolas did not show his disgust at the lies being told about his people and friends. He simply smiled and assured Charika the stories were false. “Lies, spread by Sauron to keep the support of your people. He told the same things to the Corsairs and to some of the mountain people.”

Charika gave him a wary glance, but said, “I do not fear you, Master Elf, for you are the friend of my friend.”

They escorted her back to her home after dinner and then returned to the inn. Alone in the room, there was a bit of awkwardness as they reestablished themselves in their companionship.

“You seem to have kept busy while I was away.”

“I was mistaken for an Elf. I was rather proud of that.” She laughed as she stripped down to her undertunic.

Legolas chuckled. “I am glad you were not insulted.” He too removed his traveling clothes to the much more comfortable undertunic and leggings.

“Still want the side by the door?” Alex asked as she pulled back the covers on the bed. This one was not as large as the one they had shared earlier.

“Unless you wish to have that side.”

“I’m fine over here.”

“Very well,” he replied, climbing in beside her. Blowing out the candle they lay in the darkened
room for several moments, unspeaking.

Finally, Alex asked, “So, we leave tomorrow?”

“Yes. We will head to the south.”

“OK. Goodnight, Legolas.”

“Goodnight, Alex.”

He lay awake long after her breathing had fallen into the rhythm of sleep. It had been good to get back to her. He had worried about her safety, even though she was obviously capable of taking care of herself, and, it seemed, others. However, the solitary road he had taken, something he had always enjoyed, was very lonely. He found he missed their conversations, their songs, even their silences. Still, though, it had been the right decision, proceeding alone. It had been a very unpleasant journey.


After leaving Alex in the relative safety of the village, he had turned toward the northwest. The Harad Lieutenant was somewhere, holed up in that direction. The information he had gleaned from his inquiries pinpointed an area near a small town called Orinon. The journey over desolate, rocky, mountainous terrain alternating with wide, empty deserts did nothing to soothe the Elf’s soul. He missed the trees and green grasses of his home. And he missed the company of his friends.

Although he had known Alex but a short time, she had proven to be an entertaining and trustworthy companion. Nothing like his trust and love of his friend Gimli, the Dwarf, or of Aragorn, whom he had known for much of the King’s life; but still, he found her absence left him with a loneliness in his heart.

As he neared his destination, stealth became uppermost in his considerations. The house where the man now lived was not overly large, but well guarded. By the standards of the west, it was not impressive, but, once he had slipped inside its walls, he discovered it to be quite opulent. His Elven qualities served him well as he made his way through the house, watching the people within as they slept, avoiding the guards, and moving closer to his goal.

The Harad Lieutenant was recognizable by a crescent shaped scar on his left cheek. He was snoring heavily when Legolas slipped into his room. Although it was dark, he could see the man was not alone. Moving closer to the bed, the Elf saw a young man, not yet bearded, sleeping next to him, curled in a tight ball. Although in was not impossible, it would be difficult to question the Lieutenant with a partner sleeping only inches away.

Legolas sighed and slipped his long knives quietly from their sheaths. Placing the edge of one at the throat of the Lieutenant and holding the other near the young man, he waited for his quarry to awaken.

The Lieutenant opened his eyes at the pressure from the knife blade. They opened wider at the sight of an Elf assassin standing over him. He opened his mouth but shut it instantly at the sound of the immortal’s pleasant, but menacing voice.

“Do not attempt to call out, or I will slit your throat before you can take a sustaining breath. I would also be forced to kill your companion.” The man’s eyes flickered over to where the other knife rested, just a fraction of an inch from the base of the young man’s skull. “Do you understand?”

He nodded once.

The Elf’s smile, though beautiful, sent a shudder through the Lieutenant. “Good. Now, come into the other room, quietly. You do not wish to wake your friend.”

The knife never left its position as he arose and moved into the antechamber. Once they were alone, he spoke for the first time.

“What do you mean, coming into a poor man’s home and threatening him and his? I had always heard the Eldar were vile creatures who would kill any mortal who crossed their path.”

“Indeed. What else have you heard about my kind? Did someone ever tell you that you would die at the hand of an Elf? Perhaps you saw your death in the seeing-stone you hid for the Dark Lord as the Black Gates crumbled.”

Dropping any pretense of being a simple Haradrim merchant, the man’s eyes narrowed and his mouth curved into a cruel smile.

“I have seen much, Master Elf. I have seen your kind writhing in pain, and have seen the men of the west serve as rations for the Dark Lord’s armies. I have heard the screams of men as they died and known the pleasures of their women. There is much to be said for taking the first flower, turning a girl into a woman … just before taking her life.”

His words were meant to repulse the Elf, and in that they succeeded. But the man had not counted on the self-discipline of the Mirkwood prince. He was surprised when, instead of the disgust and possibly fear, he had hoped to see in the Elf’s eyes, they remained cool and dispassionate.

“Yes, there is much to be said for taking a life,” Legolas replied pleasantly, his hand snapping out quicker than the man could see, grasping the Lieutenant around the throat, pulling him up so his toes barely touched the floor. He moved closer, so that his face was inches from his prey, and when he spoke, it was in tones that could have been mistaken for those of a lover. “Tell me … do you enjoy the sensation of being unable to draw breath? Are the shadows that begin to fill your sight comforting? Does the sound of your heart, beating louder and louder as it tries to hold on to life, sooth you like a lullaby?” The man’s eyes began to bulge and his face turned dark. His tongue protruded and he clawed ineffectually at Legolas’ elegant fingers, trying to break the iron grip.

The Elf resisted the urge to continue squeezing. As much as he wished to send the man to be with his master, he needed information first. Waiting until he could see the spark of life beginning to dim, Legolas threw the man onto a couch. He watched without expression as the man gasped and coughed and the color of his face slowly returned to normal.

“Where is the palantir? It can do you no good now. Sauron is gone and the others are either destroyed or secured.”

“Why do you care, Elf?” he coughed. “It will do you no good either.”

“I do not care. But I do not like loose ends. I would have it destroyed so this sad chapter in the story of Middle Earth can be closed.”

“Your noble sentiments touch my heart,” the man said in a voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Good. Then you will tell me what I wish to know and we can avoid any further unpleasantness.” His irony was so subtle it was lost on the man of Harad.

Sauron’s Lieutenant laughed derisively. “You are naïve, Master Elf, if you think you can threaten me.”

A sound at the door to the bedroom caught their attention. Legolas had heard the stirring in the other room and had sent a silent plea to the Valar that the Lieutenant’s companion remain asleep. His prayer, however, was denied and the young man stood in the doorway, a confused expression on his face. He had obviously never seen an Elf and was momentarily dazzled by Legolas’ presence. Then, seeing the drawn knives and the darkening bruise around his master’s throat, he opened his mouth to cry out.

“Be silent!” Legolas hissed at the boy. “Lest I find it necessary to kill you and your master.”

The boy held his breath, and then let it out in a rush. He looked to his master with pleading eyes. For a moment, Legolas saw love and compassion in the cruel eyes of Sauron’s Lieutenant. It surprised him---he had not expected a follower of the Dark Lord to be capable of tender emotion.

“Do not cry out, Ilihim. The Elf has no quarrel with you. Do not give him cause to turn his wrath upon you.”

The boy nodded and crouched against the wall, watching the others with wide, frightened eyes.

Legolas turned his attention back to the Harad Lieutenant. “Tell me what I wish to know, and I will let your companion live. Perhaps I may let you live as well.”

“No, Elf. I will not tell you anything simply because you wish it.”

“Then, I will kill you.” There was no emotion in his voice. He did not want to kill anyone, if possible, but would not hesitate if necessary. He turned just as the boy cried out and leapt at him, brandishing a dagger. Without thought, the Elf thrust one of the long knives cleanly into the boy’s heart, killing him instantly.
Sauron’s Lieutenant gave a great cry of anguish and threw himself at Legolas. The action was foolhardy, as Elven reflexes were quicker than a mortal’s. Legolas stepped aside and the man fell to the floor. He crawled over to the body of his companion and held it to him.

“You did not have to kill him! He could not have harmed you!”

“Had you done as I asked, it would not have been necessary to take his life. His death is your responsibility.” Legolas thought of the hundreds---thousands of innocents whose blood had been spilled at the hands of Sauron and his minions, including this man, and felt no sympathy for his grief. He did, however, regret being forced to kill the young man. He had attacked him, true, but only to defend his master.

Legolas could hear stirring in the house. The noise from the man’s chambers had roused the guards. He put the point of his knife at the base of the man’s skull.

“Tell me what I wish to know and I will make your death quick.”

Cruel, hard eyes looked into cool, blue ones. “Go back to your land,” he spat. “You can do me no more harm. You would never find it, even if I told you where to look.” A crafty smile crept over his lips. “I will tell you, however, that your own kind guard it.”

The approaching footsteps left little time. He pressed the point into the man’s skin, causing blood to seep out around the blade. “Where?”
“Many Elves suffered in its resting place. If you think about it, I’m sure you will figure it out.” Legolas withdrew his blade and headed toward the window to escape. He felt, rather than saw the man bring up the dagger his companion had unfortunately wielded. Whipping around, Legolas sliced his throat cleanly with one of the long knives just as a pounding on the door indicated the man’s guard had arrived.

Legolas climbed out of the window and pulled himself onto the roof before the door crashed open. With his light footsteps, the Haradrim did not think to look for him above them. They filled the small courtyard, searching for whoever had killed their master, but found no footprints, nor any trace of anyone who did not belong.

He waited for the hubbub to die down, then slipped silently back over the wall and into the night.

On his way back to Alex, he turned over the Lieutenant’s words. A place where Elves suffered and where they guarded it still. Surely he did not mean Dol Guldur in southern Mirkwood? But no, Elves had indeed died there, but not suffered as in Sauron’s definition of suffering. It had to be somewhere in Mordor. The Dark Lord had several strongholds there, not just Minas Morgul. His journey was going to lead them south, so it seemed.

When he’d arrived at the inn, days later, he’d heard voices coming from Alex’s room. He was oddly relieved to note both of them were female, and so had opened the door quietly so as not to startle them. During the evening, he could tell the Harad woman was uncomfortable around him and, when he heard the same propaganda from her that the Lieutenant had told, he understood a little better why the people of the East had supported the Dark Lord in the war. It was not that they were inherently evil themselves, but that they had always feared those in the West of Middle Earth.

Once alone with Alex in the room, he was grateful for her matter-of-fact attitude. There was no awkwardness now with sleeping arrangements, since they had been together for many months and were now comfortable with each other.

Still, as he lay in the darkness, listening to her breathe, he was aware of her proximity and a part of him yearned to put his arms around her and hold her as she slept. He kept seeing the surprise in the eyes of the young companion of the Lieutenant as his blade pierced his heart. Legolas did not regret killing him, but did regret the necessity of it. He thought of what they had told Charika about the noble nature of Elves and wondered if Alex would have defended his kind had she been with him and seen his actions in Harad. A voice in his mind told him that by holding her close, he could regain some of the luster he felt he had lost during his mission.

But, as before, his nature would not allow him to take advantage of her trust.

At some point during the night, however, Alex turned in her sleep and he felt her cheek come to rest against his shoulder and one of her hands lay across his chest. He felt a vague stirring, but did not examine it too closely. She stayed there for a good part of the night before shifting again. The place where her head had lay felt cold after she turned to her other side.