Blessed by 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.

****************************************************************************

As always, any constructive criticism is appreciated.

****************************************************************


After a light breakfast, they departed the next morning. Legolas noticed she had acquired a new pack that she said was full of “girl stuff”. He didn’t inquire further.

They took a southerly route, skirting desert, with sparse vegetation offering little shade. Alex kept the cape Legolas had given her over her head so her skin would not redden. Since the Firstborn did not suffer from the elements, they had no fears of sunburn. Alex, on the other hand, was all too mortal and her fair skin was in danger of damage from the harsh sun.

On at least one occasion, they found small pools where they could get fresh water and bathe. Alex was especially grateful for these respites from the heat of the day. Once, she sat trying to comb out her hair after it had dried following one of these baths. Legolas heard her cursing her hair, the sun, the comb and life in general and deduced she had gotten it tangled again.

When they’d first met, her hair had been quite short, in his opinion. Actually, it was just to her shoulders and she had it pinned up. Unfortunately, Alex’s hair grew quickly, and so by the time they turned south, it had become unruly. She’d taken to tying it back, but that was not an ideal solution since the strands could still blow and tangle on the ends.

Taking pity on her poor, abused hair and scalp, Legolas took the comb from her before she broke its teeth.

“Allow me, my friend. You will do yourself harm.”

She heaved a heavy sigh and allowed him to comb out her hair. His touch was soothing and gentle, and he patiently worked the knots loose, combing her hair until it fell in some semblance of order.

“Would you permit me to braid it for you? I believe it would help prevent the wind from causing it to tangle so badly.

“Sure, go ahead. You’re the hair expert anyway.”

“I assure you, I am no more an expert on hair than you.” Her words puzzled him.

“You know what I mean. You’ve never had a bad hair day in your life. It’s that great, Elven hair. I’d kill to have the kind of hair you have.”

“My hair is no different from other Elves. Color, perhaps. Not all Elves have light hair. And some have hair that curls a bit, but that is mostly among the she-Elves. Few Elven males have any but straight hair.”

His nimble fingers parted and twisted her hair into what was for an Elf, a simple braid. He secured it with one of the ties she had been using earlier.

“Thank you,” she said. “Sometimes I wish I were one of those exotic princesses we used to read about as children, and could have someone to do my hair and pick out my clothes and worry about all the things I don’t know how to see to.”

“Is that what you think royal life is like?” he asked with a smile.

“Oh, probably not. But it’s what most people imagine it to be like. It’s a nice fairy tale.”

“I can assure you, it may be like that for princesses, but it definitely is not like that for princes.”

She turned to him with a speculative look. “You’re positive?”

“Yes.”

“And you know this for sure because … ?”

“Because I was raised a prince and no one has selected my clothes or braided my hair since I was a small elfling.”

“And you were going to tell me this, when?”

“Tell you what?”

“That you were a prince.”

“Does it matter?”

“No. Yes. Sort of.”

He raised a questioning brow.

“We don’t have princes or kings or things like that among my people. They exist in history, and other people have them, just not us. And I guess, there’s always some sort of ‘royal mystique’ that those of us who have never lived under such a system find intriguing. I just wish I’d known because maybe I’ve offended you or something without meaning to. It’s always good to know the background of one’s friends so social gaffes can be avoided.”

Legolas smiled at her words. “But, among friends, there are no social gaffes.”

She returned his smile. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

They made good progress until the came to pure desert. It became difficult to travel with any sort of stealth since potential enemies could see them for miles without possessing Elven sight. Thus, they found themselves stuck on a mountain one day.

“We appear to have a long wait,” Legolas sighed. They could not leave their hiding place until the caravan departed, and it appeared the traveling Haradrim were in no hurry to be on their way. Turning to Alex he suggested, “You might try to get some sleep. We could be here for some time.”

“I’m not really sleepy,” she replied as she scooted over so he could sit next to her. It was chilly in the shelter of the outcropping at the top of the jagged mountain and she welcomed his nearness. Unfortunately, their cover was one of the few topological anomalies within view. They were surrounded by desert, which afforded the caravan an unrestricted view. They could not sneak away since the Haradrim were ranged away from the base of the mountain, but surrounded it nonetheless.

“You could sing to me,” he suggested. She had a vast store of songs from her land, some he enjoyed, others, he simply did not understand as music. Still, he found them interesting and, with typical Elven love of song, encouraged her to sing to him or with him whenever possible. He had also taught her some of the songs of his people, although he had been alarmed to see unshed tears in her eyes and hear a tremble in her voice at times when she sang them. He did not question her, as she seemed embarrassed to show much emotion around him.

“I don’t think so. Song carries further than speech. If we sang, it would probably alert them to our presence.”

She was correct, so they sat in companionable silence for a while. He noticed the small bumps on her skin that mortals often had when chilled. Taking off his cloak, he gave it to her for cover. It was still warm from his body and she was grateful for his exceptional tolerance of temperature extremes. She snuggled into it with a sigh.

Legolas smiled at her obvious satisfaction. She would have never said anything about being cold. In fact, she rarely complained of the coolness of the nights or winds. The heat of the days, however, was another matter. Although she seldom said anything, he could tell by her sighs and somewhat short temper she was not happy with the warmer climes.

Breathing in the scent of the Elf that lingered on his cloak, she was suddenly, joltingly reminded of the one she had been forced to leave several years earlier. She knew smell was one of the strongest memory triggers for the human brain, and since the aftermath of her mission to Culean, she had a great sense of smell. Taking another, tentative sniff, she was overwhelmed with memories. It was a combination of fresh leaves and clear waterfalls, with an undercurrent of something spicy, like cinnamon or allspice. It was a very subtle scent, one she did not pick up during their normal, everyday interaction. Thinking back, she remembered a vague whiff of it when they had gone to the town where she won a small fortune in a dagger throwing game---the place where Legolas had called her bluff and climbed into the tub with her. Pushing away that pleasant, if somewhat embarrassing, memory, she recalled the scent when he had removed his cloak prior to undressing. Perhaps that was what had caused her to compare her companion with her former lover on that occasion.

Legolas saw the bittersweet smile touch her lips and was struck again by the combination of happiness and sadness it expressed.

“You have that same look you had before when you spoke of your lover,” he said softly. He did not wish to intrude on her thoughts, but if she were sad, he wished to offer her some form of comfort.

Surprised, she gave a small laugh. “Something just reminded me of him.” Again, she gave that sad smile.

“You said you would tell me the story one day. Since you will not sing for me,” he said with a twinkle in his eye, “perhaps you will tell me a story.”

She looked at him with a bemused expression. Surely, he didn’t want to hear a sad love story. She told him as much.

“On the contrary. Many of the songs and poems of my people are naught but sad love stories.”

“Well, then, I’ll try to make it a coherent story.”

I’d been sent to a place where unknown enemies had attacked some of our people. It looked like the culprits were our old foe from a foreign Empire. I went alone, to see what I could find out, and tell our commanders.

Once I arrived, I noticed some strange things about the attackers. They would mutilate some of the victims, and leave others alone, but kill them all. That was not a tactic the Empire used. For all their viciousness, they were efficient and somewhat dispassionate. They didn’t slaughter just for the sake of it. Everything they did had a type of logic to it.

As I was investigating, there was another attack on the party I had joined and I saw these enemies for myself, and they were definitely not from the Empire. There was a pitched battle and I thought I was going to die. I was trapped in a cul-de-sac and overwhelming numbers of the enemy blocked the only way I saw out.

I’d almost decided to just try to take out as many as I could before they killed me when I heard a voice behind me.

“Come, human. There is a way out.”

I turned and saw an Imperial warrior standing just inside an opening in the rock. I didn’t trust him, but, as my people say, better the devil you know than the devil you don’t, so I fired one last volley and ducked inside. There were 3 others of his kind with him. They didn’t say anything to me, but he just told me to follow him.

We ran for miles in that underground passage, without saying a word. He had warned me that if I couldn’t keep up, they would leave me behind, which was fair enough I supposed. He couldn’t afford to lose any of his men for one of my kind. Finally, we came to a small cavern where we stopped to rest.

I learned they had lost people in the same area as we, and they thought it was us who were doing it. His men weren’t too crazy about having me around, but at least I wasn’t one of those things that were killing everyone in sight. We kept on going until we found an exit to the surface. The first one of the warriors got out with no problem. The second one, however, was killed as soon as he stepped into the light. Another tried to save him and was cut down as well. The Imperial commander and I stayed under cover. There were 3 of those things between us and the first warrior to escape. We couldn’t go back because one of the enemy weapons had caused the opening to collapse when it had hit our location. The man, saw that we were trapped and he deliberately drew the fire of the enemies so we could get to the Imperial ship.

He managed to get their attention and even dodged them for a while, leading them away from our path. We made it across to more cover and another cave entrance. When we got down into the cavern at the end of the entrance, there were two more Imperial warriors, one dead, the other in very bad shape. He had been cut open by one of those things and his insides were spilling out. He didn’t cry out, but I could tell he was in awful pain. The Commander said something to him in their language, but I didn’t hear. Somehow, it seemed wrong to eavesdrop. Then, the Commander took him in his arms and I thought he was going to carry him, but instead, he broke his neck. It was pretty surprising, but was the kindest thing to do, really.

I figured the other warrior had asked his commander to do it. It was his responsibility, after all, as he told me later.

We were trapped in those tunnels for a while. These things wouldn’t die and they wouldn’t leave. It gave us time to talk.

“You speak my language fairly well, “ I told him while we waited.

“So do you,” he replied. I’d never had a personal conversation with anyone from their Empire and it surprised me that he had a sense of humor. I’d only ever seen them making threats and taunting us and such.

He was taller than me, black hair that was cut short, much like the cuts men among my people wore. He had the pointed ears that the Imperial races share, almost exactly like Elven ears. His skin, though, was darker than an Elf’s, like all of his people. Not as dark as the Haradrim, but nowhere near as fair as mine.

We engaged in some small talk and he was just so insufferable. He had the typical arrogance of his people, but there was some good humor there. It was like he didn’t take himself so seriously. Of course, I couldn’t tell him about my work and he couldn’t tell me about his---we were enemies, after all. But we developed an understanding and certainly respected each other.

Finally, after 3 days, the attackers left and we managed to get out of that damned cave. It was awful---there were dead bodies everywhere and nothing was left standing. We searched and found some supplies---food, water, weapons. But it was a ghost-world. When we went to where his ship had been, it was completely annihilated---nothing was left. My own ship had been destroyed as well and we were pretty much stranded.

We had no one but each other for company and decided we were stronger together than if we separated. We scoured the place for survivors and for a way out. Maybe it was because it was just the two of us, but we started growing closer. He told me his name was T’yRhal. I found out he had been raised by a servant from my land and that was how he had learned our language. I also found out he was the prince next in line to become the Emperor. That was a real surprise. I don’t know why he told me that. Probably because he thought we were going to die there and it wouldn’t matter if I knew his position.

We took shelter where we could during our search for a way out. It was during this part of our adventure we became lovers. I was still a little unsure of him---he was charming, but there was always an underlying menace. I didn’t feel like he was a threat to me personally, but I knew he could be quite ruthless and just, dangerous.

I was amazed to find that I had developed feelings for him, and he treated me with such tenderness and compassion, I was shocked. Surely, this couldn’t be the vicious killer I’d been told of all my life. He was my enemy. Yet, he was also the only person who had ever touched my heart. I won’t go into the details because, frankly, they’re too personal. But before we finally found a means to escape, we had already admitted our feelings to one another.

The problem was, we couldn’t be together. We could’ve stayed where we were, I suppose, and hidden when his rescue ships came. My own people hadn’t expected to hear from me, so they didn’t look for me. He, however, was the favorite grandson of the Emperor, the next Emperor himself. They searched diligently for him, and pretty much sent a fleet.

He kept me hidden when he spoke with the people who came to get him. He made me take off any rank insignia and pretend I couldn’t understand his language. He also told me that no matter what he said or did, he loved me. But in order to save me, he would have to deny me. If his people had captured me, they would have done things to me that may have caused me to betray my people and he would not allow that. He had much honor.

“I cannot protect you,” he said. “Perhaps if I were already Emperor, it would be different, but right now, I do not have the power. The best I can do is try to get you home to your people.”

When they came to rescue him, he told them I was just a citizen who had been caught in the crossfire and should be delivered to my home. The others were suspicious of me, but they would not dare counter the Prince’s word. He was so cold toward me, so callous, as if I were simply a nuisance.

On board their ship, I was kept sequestered. He came to see me once before I was returned to my people. Another of the ship’s crew was with him, so he couldn’t speak freely. But he made that one wait beside the door, and although T’yRhal spoke in a heartless and unfeeling manner, his eyes were so soft and tender and I could see his heartbreak in them. We didn’t get to touch one last time or have a true lovers’ farewell. And we knew we’d never see each other again.

Although she told her tale with seeming objectivity, Legolas could sense her sadness. As an Elf, he had not experienced many goodbyes that were meant to be forever. His kin would see each other again in Valinor, and he had experienced only the loss of first Gandalf, who had returned; and Boromir, who had been killed defending Merry and Pippin. But, by and large, the idea of saying goodbye forever was foreign and slightly frightening.

“I am sorry for your loss, Alex. There is no chance of ever seeing him again?”

“No.” She shook her head sadly. “But we knew that when we parted. As soon as his people came to rescue him, it was over. Perhaps that’s the best kind of love---it never has time to become stale or old. You don’t have time to get on each other’s nerves or grow tired of one another. It stays fresh forever because it’s just a moment in time, not connected to anything else.”

He considered her words. “It is not like that for Elves. When we find our mate, and bind with them, we do so for forever. Even if we are separated, the bond remains.”

“But what about when an Elf dies? There is nothing left for the bond to hold.”

“Elves who die go to Mandos’ Hall, as do Men. They are called the Halls of Waiting because that is where the souls of the dead wait to be sent on to their final place. Elves go to Valinor eventually, so they still see their kin who crossed into the West.”

“What about Men?”

Legolas shook his head. “I do not know. Only the Valar and Iluvatar know their ultimate fate. But it is believed they are sent to the Halls of their Fathers.”

Alex was sitting with her knees drawn up and her arms around them, her head resting on their tops. She lifted her head to look at her companion.

“Are you bound to anyone?”

He shook his head. “No. I have never felt the urge to bind.”

She turned his words over in her mind. “With all the women or she-Elves you’ve been with, have you any children? I don’t mean to get personal, but you’ve been around for a long time. Surely, there are little Legolai running around somewhere.” She smiled at his confusion at her term for his potential offspring.

“But I have not bound with any female with whom I have bedded.”

“Yes, but do you use some form of birth control or something? Or are children born to the couple who are bound the only ones you would claim?”

His confusion cleared. “Oh, but Elves do not have children outside of the bond.”

She was surprised their culture had some means of contraception. It didn’t seem that advanced scientifically.

His next words cleared up that question: “Male Elves to not share their seed with every partner with whom they lay, only the one to whom they are bound. And then, both parties decide when they will conceive.”

“So Elves can naturally choose when their children will be born, or choose not to have any children at all?” Fascinating.

“Yes,” he said.

“Well, what about the women you lay with---unless there were Elvish prostitutes back in that little town, you had some human nook---.” She cut herself off before using what could be considered a mildly offensive term, but one quite tame among her old crowd.

Although he was unsure of what word she stopped in the middle of, he got the gist of her comment. Smiling, he answered, “Elvish males can achieve satisfaction with the spilling of their seed.”

“Aahhh.” That certainly explained everything.

Following that logic, it would mean he’d never---. No, she wasn’t going to ask about that. Some images she definitely did not want in her head.

“Since I have not bonded with anyone, I have no children.”

“I see.” She had no desire to pursue the subject any longer. Too many disconcerting things were already running through her mind.

Changing the topic, she asked about their route. Soon the unsettling conversation was forgotten and they rested. When the caravan finally cleared the horizon the next afternoon, they made their way down from the site of the previous night’s revelations and continued on a south by southwest course.

*
The terrain became more forbidding and they began seeing signs of decay and death. Skeletons of Orcs, Uruk-hai, mumikil, Goblins, Trolls, Warg, Fell Beasts, and Men began to intermittently litter the landscape. The remains fascinated Alex. She would have loved to have seen them in life, and told Legolas so. Her friend frowned.

“They were evil creatures, minions of Sauron. If the Valar will it, their like will never be seen in Middle Earth again.”

She sighed. The extinction of a species was something terribly upsetting to her people, she explained. “We feel we have failed if we allow them to all die out.”

Legolas shook his head. “Forgive me, Alex, but your people are foolish if they would have tried to save any of these beings. Well,” he said after consideration, “perhaps the mumikil were not so bad. They were just used wrongly.”

“Is it me, or is it darker here?”

Looking at the skies, the Elf nodded. “There has been great evil here for centuries. It does not dissipate in only a few years.”

Still becoming accustomed to the Middle Earth view of Evil as a tangible entity, Alex took his explanation with a skeptical attitude. Still, she knew this place was not going to be good for her. The further they went, the more certain she became that she was going to have trouble.

She could feel it calling to here. An ancient force was in this place. Something primitive that recognized the kindred spirit inside her. She glanced at Legolas. He sensed the same presence. She wondered if he could sense it in her as well.

“What happened here?” she whispered.

Legolas was surprised she had felt the ancient evil that dwelt in these mountains. Many mortals would have found it unsettling, but she seemed to feel it intensely, as would an Elf.

“Sauron used this place as one of his seats of power. His evil only added to the contamination from Morgoth back at the beginning of the world.”

“Who is Morgoth?” The name meant nothing to her, although she recalled Sauron from the stories Legolas had told her of the War of the Ring.

“Morgoth is one of the Valar who rebelled against Eru and escaped to Arda along with Ungoliant, the mother of Spiders, another powerful entity. He was defeated and cast into the void at the end of the First Age. But the evil he did here along with Ungoliant and her offspring lingers. Sauron served him and he added to the evil of this place.”

“Mother of Spiders?” Perhaps that trace memory was what her own darkness was responding to. Spiders were certainly known to be predators and if an ancient force that was the “mother” of these things here in Middle Earth, had dwelt here, it was certainly possible.

“Her offspring infested Middle Earth during the time of darkness. I spent much of my time in Mirkwood killing them and killing Orcs. They turned my father’s kingdom, his beloved Greenwood, into a dark and dangerous place, and it became Mirkwood. They caused the deaths of many of my kinsmen.” His voice was calm, but she detected an undercurrent of disgust.

She considered her companion. He looked so young, possibly a few years younger than her. Yet, he was around 2000 years old, and had been killing creatures she could only imagine or thought only existed in myth for all of his life. The tales of the Fellowship and the War of the Ring had left her amazed, as he told them in such a matter-of-fact manner. She had never stopped to consider how he had lived in a forest infested with giant, deadly spiders, constantly under attack by Orcs, Trolls, Goblins---she could not imagine such a life. Yet he had such an air of calm and serenity, and seemed to have such joy in living. She was in awe of his resiliency.

She became aware of his scrutiny. Turning to face him, she saw his eyes widen slightly. ‘Oh hell,’ she thought, ‘he sees it.’

“Alex …”

She turned away. The feelings were getting stronger. She did not want him to see her like this, but it seemed inevitable.

His touch was gentle and calming. Some of the shadows that had been closing in seemed to recede and she felt the call lessen.

“You suffer, my friend. Tell me what is wrong so that I might share your burden.”

He turned her around so that he could look into her eyes again. “If I am worthy to share your joys, may I not also share your worries?”

“I had hoped to keep this … thing suppressed here. I didn’t think there would be anything in such a beautiful place to trigger it.” She could see his confusion. “I can’t explain it easily, Legolas. There are things about me I can’t tell you because it will sound impossible.” Of course, she was saying this to an Elf---an ELF, for crying out loud. The absurdity of it almost caused her to break out into hysterical giggles.

“We will stay here and allow the horses to rest,” he said, pulling his pack from Arod’s back. “And you can tell me of this impossible thing.”

I was newly assigned to a duty in a place called Culean. We had heard there were people there---healers---who were tampering with lives. They hoped to develop a great weapon, but rather than something that could be used, they wanted to change the people. They were working on creating soldiers who would be almost like the Uruk-hai: strong, fearless, and easily healed. But what they used to do this was not so easy to control.

Long ago, my people had discovered a … creature that was the perfect killing machine. It hunted its prey without mercy, adapted quickly and easily to change, and was almost indestructible. It used other living beings as ‘hosts’ for its offspring. When they reached a certain stage of maturity, they would claw and bite their way out of the host and move on to another stage of development. The host, of course, was killed in the process.

However, my people found a way to remove these creatures---but there was only a certain window of opportunity where it could be done successfully. If they waited too long, the hosts would die. If they tried too early, same thing. For a long time, we only hunted and killed these creatures. Then, someone got the bright idea to deliberately expose us to them. They found that while the creatures were inside the hosts, they began to change the bodies that were nourishing them. And, if they were removed at the right time, these changes could be beneficial to their goal of creating a powerful army.

When I was sent to Culean with others in my team, we were looking for a group of people who had gone missing in that area. We found them there, being used as test subjects for this experiment in creation. To make a long story short, we were deliberately … infected, I guess you could say, with those creatures. Several of my comrades died before we could get back to our base. I was one of the ‘lucky’ ones.

They removed the creature from my body---I have a small scar just above my stomach. But it healed so quickly. At first that was thought to be a sign of success, even though the healers who saved us thought the others had gone too far. If they could develop soldiers who could heal rapidly, there would be less loss in a battle. Other ‘benefits’ soon became apparent. Those of us who survived could run faster and longer, had greatly increased stamina and strength, our senses were enhanced---I can see, smell and hear things many others cannot---and we could take more punishment---physical pain became much easier for us to bear.

There were other things that seemed good at the time. We could stalk our prey quite efficiently, and could eliminate enemies with very little remorse. What more could you ask for? It soon became apparent, however, that what seemed like ideal qualities for a soldier were really the ideal qualities for a killer, pure and simple.

We became cold and calculating---which can be good sometimes, but dangerous if not tempered by conscience and morality. We learned, after a while, that self-discipline was necessary to prevent us from turning on our friends and each other. It seems, depending on what type of creature had been put into us, we developed different types of aggression. Those who had the ‘worker’ type of creature had it best, I suppose. They didn’t develop as much of a desire to kill off each other as some of the rest of us did. A couple of others and I wound up with what they called a ‘queen’. Normally there would be only one in any hive---but in our case there were three. We had to be separated because we were constantly trying to kill each other. We could control ourselves to a certain extent, but the compulsion was always there.

Normally, it’s not a problem. The only real visible effects in my everyday life are these nice little claws I have. These nails are very sharp and very strong, which comes in handy at times. Things that aren’t so visible, though, give me real problems sometimes. For example, I have to make a conscious effort to not kill at times. I’m thankful my nature has been one of restraint. It seems to help balance the instincts this thing in me has.

But sometimes, like now, things call to it---to me. Ancient, primitive things seem to call the strongest. Things that work on a natural level, unhampered by the trappings of civilization. That’s why I have to be careful. It’s a darkness inside of me that I have to always keep at bay.

Legolas listened to her story with wonder. His first thoughts were of the pain she must have endured---and still suffered---because of what had been done to her. Although it did seem impossible, he had seen many more things equally strange. The change that came over one who had been pierced by the Nazgul’s blade, for instance. Therefore, he accepted her words without prejudice.

Alex watched him carefully. She had tried to be as honest as possible without going into detail about her world or other things that really didn’t matter to Middle Earth. She made up her mind to part company with him as soon as possible. She did not wish to contaminate him should she be unable to control herself.

“Are you in pain?” Not the first question she had expected of him.

“You mean, does it hurt when I get these feelings?” He nodded. “No. It’s uncomfortable sometimes when my eyes change, but not really painful.”

“I am relieved. I do not wish to see you suffer in any way.”

She looked away for a moment. “I’ll take Hector and go back to Charika’s village. I think I can find it on my own. One other advantage to my curse is a great sense of direction. I can live there. It’s pretty out of the way, and I’m not likely to have to kill anyone there,” she ended with an ironic smile.

She was surprised to see hurt in Legolas’ expression. “Why do you wish to leave? Are you tired of my company?”

“Not at all. It’s just I thought … you would not want to continue to travel with me now that you know I’m a monster.” She looked away, angry with herself for getting attached to his company and making leaving that much harder.

He moved close to her and took her shoulders, turning her so she faced him. “Alexandra, you are not a monster. You are no different from when we first met. Why should I choose to avoid your company now? You are still my friend and companion. Nothing has changed except that I now understand you a bit more.”

Alex looked into his eyes and saw nothing but understanding and what could be called affection. She smiled.

“Thank you, Legolas. In my world---my land, most would not be so accepting. Even those of my people who caused this thing to happen, feared and mistrusted us, as if they blamed us for what had been done to us.”

“Such an attitude is unfair. I only hope you do not suffer because of the evil in this place.”

“I don’t feel like it’s evil that is affecting me.” She paused, collecting her thoughts. “It’s more like primitive urges that are calling on that part of me that is, in a way, still primitive itself. Just, if I ever get injured, don’t touch the blood.”

He raised an eyebrow in question.

“Another of the changes is that my blood is more acidic---corrosive---than human blood is normally. It’s rather like a form of defense—other creatures would leave it alone because to attack it could lead to death from the blood. And it certainly made it useless as prey---nothing could eat it.”

Legolas nodded. “It seems like it would be an ideal predator. And you are correct in a way. Such beings as yourself would be perfect soldiers, much like the Uruk-hai. But you are civilized and you have honor. You could never truly be like them.”

She gave him a grateful smile, and as they continued to set up for the night, the conversation turned to more pleasant topics. The only other time it came up in conversation that evening was when she noticed him watching her with a bemused expression.

“What? Have I suddenly grown horns?” She almost hit herself, knowing he would take her question seriously.

“No. Do you expect to?” She shook her head and opened her mouth to explain, and then saw the glint of humor in his eyes. He may look naive, but he certainly wasn’t.

“So, why are you looking at me?”

“I was contemplating your earlier desire to leave and go back to Charika’s village. You thought I would turn from you because of something that happened to you. I wondered---did T’yRhal know of your experience? And did he turn from you because of it? “

She stared at him, taken aback by his words. She hadn’t expected him to ask that. She was surprised he even remembered T’yRhal’s name.

“Yes, he knew. He knew about the creatures before he even met me. And no, he didn’t abandon me because of it.” She gave a short laugh. “In fact, I think it made me more attractive to him. His people are very much like what I’d become, except they’re more like if something like this had happened to an Elf.”

Legolas thought about what an Elf in her position would be like. He shuddered inside. Elves had their own darkness which they kept locked away. Once awakened, Elven rage, rather than being wild and nonspecific, was cold and ruthless and very focused.

“Perhaps that is what attracted the two of you to each other---you recognized a shared spirit.”

“Could be,” she admitted. “But there was nobility in him too, that I found so compelling. He was not typical of his kind. I suppose he was the best example of his people, as is fitting in a future Emperor.”

His smile was somewhat sad. “I should have liked to have met your prince. He sounds quite interesting.”

She tilted her head and studied her ‘other’ prince. “The two of you were a lot alike in a lot of ways. Not just the ears, either.” They both chuckled. “He had a tremendous sense of duty, just like you, and had a compassion that I never expected in one who was supposed to be my enemy. I think you would have liked him.”

She leaned back and looked at the stars dotting the black sky. They were alien stars for her. Even the ones of the Empire held some reminders of home. Here, though, she felt so completely alone. Not that she minded solitude. Much of her career was spent doing things alone. But there was always the military to fall back on if necessary. Here, she’d made two friends---Legolas and Charika; the latter she would probably never see again, and the former, she would probably never see again after their journey ended.

The Elf watched her gaze at the stars. He could sense her isolation and loneliness. His heart ached over the sadness he sometimes saw in her eyes when she thought she was unobserved. He almost wished she had never come to Middle Earth; that she could have remained with her people and perhaps her love. Yet, a part of him balked at the thought. He had come to treasure her companionship and, in his heart of hearts, was glad she was here. He reached over and took her hand.

She looked down, surprised. His elegant fingers entwined with hers caused an unsettled feeling in her stomach. She felt as if his purity was going to be contaminated by the darkness that lurked within her and almost drew her hand free. But she knew he would misunderstand so she forced herself to remain still.

“I would wish you back among your own people, Alexandra, if it were not for the fact I enjoy your company so much. It grieves me to see you so lonely. When we get back to Gondor, there will be many of your kind there and perhaps you will feel at home. I would have you stay in Ithilien if you so wished, but there are many Elves there and most mortals do not like to dwell with us.”

She didn’t know what to say. His concern was genuine and she was grateful for his friendship.

He continued. “Gondor is a sea-faring society as well. Perhaps they can find a way to take you back to your home.”

She shook her head. “No, Legolas. They cannot take me home. No one can.”

“I do not understand. I know there are lands beyond the sea where others dwell. Surely, the way to your home is not lost.”

“But it is lost, Legolas. I can’t go home, ever again. I will never leave this place. Here I am, and here I will die.”

Her outburst surprised them both. Yet he did not let go of her hand.

“Tell me what it is that troubles you so, Alexandra. Perhaps I may be able to help.”

He looked so earnest it brought tears to her eyes. Forcing them back, she gave a wan smile.

“Thank you for your offer. But, Legolas, there is something I haven’t told you about my home. As strange as all these other things I’ve said, it may be the most impossible to believe.”

“As you have said yourself, in your land, Elves and Trolls and Goblins are not real, yet here you are, sharing a journey with an Elf. I think we are both living with impossibilities.”

His words startled her in their clarity and insight. He was right. He knew she was being forced to believe in things she’d though existed only in imagination. Why shouldn’t she challenge his beliefs as well?

“Alright. I’m not from any shores beyond Middle Earth. The ship I came here on did not sail any of the seas. My land does not lie beyond the horizon and you can’t get to it by any means that exist here.” She took a deep breath. “I come from a world, far away and our ships sail between the stars.”

She waited for his reaction. Surprise, disbelief, doubt---all flashed across his features in rapid succession. Whatever he had expected her to say, it hadn’t been that. Still, he kept his fingers entwined with hers. True to his word, he didn’t let go.

“You are of the Valar?”

“No, oh no! Not at all. I’m a human being. But our world---which is also called Earth---exists somewhere far from here. It lies beyond a veil that we have no means of piercing. I got here by accident and my craft was destroyed. Besides, even if it was viable, the way back to my home is closed. It was a miracle that I ended up here. I could have been consumed in a star or your own sun. I could have crashed onto one of the worlds that orbit far above your sky and died. Not all worlds are habitable. I could have drifted in the space between the stars until I perished from lack of food, air or water. Even coming here, I could have been killed because my ship just happened to come down to your world intact; but it was going to crash into a volcano---not too far from here, actually---and, had my reflexes been just a bit slower, I’d have died then. But I managed to escape and then be found by you. So, even though I am far from all I have ever known, I am grateful to be alive in a beautiful place and to have found someone who has taken the time to try to make me feel like I am welcome here.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “It is much to comprehend. Perhaps some of the older Elves who remain would know about such things, but---All I do know is you are my friend and I will accept your word.” He seemed to think for a moment, choosing his next words carefully. “So, when you say you and T’yRhal are from different worlds, you mean different worlds.”

She nodded and tried not to laugh. Irony from the Elf was surprising, although she didn’t know why.

“I think it would be wise if we did not share this information with anyone else. I do not believe most of the peoples of Middle Earth would understand. My kin, most likely, would accept it without much question. The mortals, however, are quite superstitious.”

“You’re right. I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want you thinking I’m even more of a freak than you already do, but I also didn’t like hiding it from you either.” She smiled. “Thank you Legolas.”

“No thanks are needed. It is part of being a friend.” He gave her hand a squeeze and released it. His touch had made her feel better. Or at least she thought it had. Most likely it was coincidence. But, it could be possible that Elves, with their mystical ways, were able to heal some hurts simply by touch or thought.