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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Alexandra knew time was running out and Goroth would not leave her in peace much longer. They had stopped again and she had fed the baby. She was holding him, rubbing his back as she’d seen others do in order to get him to burp. She didn’t know if it worked, but was rewarded with a tiny belch. She had to admit, taking care of the child wasn’t as hard as she’d expected. Still, though, she thought she’d stick to dogs.

A shadow fell over her and the child and she looked up to see Goroth watching her with eyes that said her respite was at an end. He reached out and took Elboron.

She held on tightly until Goroth said, “If you do not release the child, I will cut off his ear. You do not want him injured, do you? Release him.” She shook her head.

Goroth sighed and pulled out his dagger and pressed it against the tiny shell of an ear, the point pushing against the delicate white skin.

“I have no qualms about killing the child, lady. It matters not to me whether he lives or dies. It is incidental to this mission.” She knew Elboron was dead already. They had never intended to keep either of them alive. She didn’t know what their motive was, but apparently they had served their purpose. However, if Goroth thought he could still use the child to control her, she would have to give him reason to believe it was working. If he thought Elboron was still useful, he would not kill him.

“You can either release the child voluntarily, or I will take him by force. It will be your choice. I can make his end gruesome and painful, or quick and merciful. I may even keep the both of you around a bit longer if you please me.”

“You are pathetic if you must use a baby to satisfy your lust,” she spat.

Goroth laughed. “I will satisfy myself with you one way or another, it matters not to me if you die afterward, or even during. But you will yield to me.”

Elboron was wailing at the pressure of being gripped so tightly between the two. “Put the child in that basket. Else I will slice right now.” The knife point pressed harder and a pinprick of blood oozed out around the point. He leaned closer and, with a terrible smile, said, “If you do not do as I say, I will put his still-living body on a spit and roast him so that when his father arrives, he will find his child was the main course for dinner.

Alex faced a difficult choice. Either way, she and the babe were going to die. A part of her yearned to swiftly break the child’s neck, taking the choice out of Goroth’s hands and giving Eowyn’s baby a quick and painless death. Still, there was hope that rescue would come. Arwen would have likely sent word to her kin and even now, Elves from Ithilien may be closing in on their position. She had to do whatever it took to keep the child safe until there was no hope left. She nodded and took Elberon and soothed him before placing him in his basket under the shade of a large rock. She straightened and looked Goroth in the eye.

“I have done as you demanded. Now what?”

He took his knife and dragged the tip from between her breasts up her neck to her cheek.

“Now, you will see to my needs, lady.”

“You think so?” She was going to kill him. She couldn’t help herself, it was just going to happen.

“Yes, I do. In fact, I know you will. I know you think you can fight, but I have 30 men here who will use you until you cannot fight anymore. Did you know, we use rape as a form of execution in my land? We have it down to an art form. Now, lady, you can submit to me, or you can enjoy the tender attentions of my men. What is your choice?”

She would not answer. It was a choice she refused to make. The Rhunian warlord laughed. “I had hoped you would resist. There is nothing quite so sporting as wagering on how many times you can be taken before you finally succumb to death.”

She felt sudden stinging sensations around her neck and her wrists and saw thin leather straps wrapped around her arms---loops pulled tight and kept her from relieving the pressure on her throat. She struggled, surprising the Rhunians with her strength. Several more of them grasped her arms and legs and eventually, she began to lose consciousness. Not before getting several good kicks in, killing at least 4 of her captors before succumbing to the lack of oxygen and drifting into unconsciousness.

When she awoke she was on her stomach in a lavish tent, bent over a saddle, her arms stretched out and secured to a tent peg, her legs tied at the knees and ankles so that she was unable to move from a kneeling position in which she was vulnerable to whomever wished to use her. She was vaguely aware of a burning sensation inside of her, then realized someone was thrusting into her from behind. She swore in several different languages, none of which her attacker understood and tried to free herself.

The laugh from behind her made her skin crawl. She felt pressure on her back as her assailant leaned over to whisper in her ear. “You are beautiful tied down, lady. I think I wish you to continue to resist so I will have an excuse to keep you bound. Not that I need a reason.” He gripped her hair, pulling her head back painfully. It felt as though he were going to break her neck with the pressure of each thrust.

Alex knew it had nothing to do with sex; he was trying to show her his dominance. She was angered more than anything else. Still, she had known no other besides her husband for over five years and her heart ached at the thought of her body being used by the Rhunian. She closed her mind to the physical sensations and concentrated on finding Legolas. She sought him in her heart and focused on the love they shared. She asked for his forgiveness for getting herself into this predicament, and could feel his strength reaching out to her and she clung to it as she took herself out of the present.

Eventually, she felt Goroth withdraw and slap her bottom. He came around front and squatted in front of her; he had, thankfully, tied his trousers closed. He lifted her chin and looked into her eyes.

“You were quite pleasant. You and the child live for another day.” Then, he kissed her. The feel of his mouth on hers was even more repulsive than the invasion of her body. There was something more intimate, somehow, about his lips closing over hers. He was not foolish enough to let his tongue get within reach of her teeth, but still managed to invade her mouth with it. When he pulled back, he laughed at her expression of revulsion. Pulling out his knife, he sliced her bonds.

“Go see to the child,” he said. “Tell him what you have done for him today.”

Over the next few days, Alex looked for an opportunity to take the baby and escape, but she was only allowed to hold him when she was feeding and changing him. She was under constant guard when the child was with her; Goroth had a metal collar fastened around her neck and secured with a chain. Alex didn’t even leash her own dogs and found the restraint demeaning. He seemed to enjoy holding it and dragging her around like a pet.

Every time she was done seeing to the child’s needs, one of the Rhunians held a knife to him as Goroth had her bound, then assuaged his lust with her body. She was vaguely surprised that he was able to use her so often; his stamina was almost Elf-like. She shuddered. She felt as though she had insulted the entire Elven race by comparing this … savage rapist to them.

One day, instead of cutting her bonds after spilling his foul seed inside of her, Goroth yanked her head up by the chain around her neck, and forced her to look at him.

“Good news, lady. Your bondage is at an end. We shall leave you and the child to the tender care of those who seek you. I must admit, I am surprised the Elves have taken so much interest in the heir of Ithilien.”

Alex didn’t dare let her hope show in her expression, but she sent a silent prayer that they would arrive soon. Still, she had expected Goroth to kill her and the child. His next words, however, sent a chill through her.

“I am leaving several of my best ‘executioners’ here. They will be sure you suffer exquisitely before they leave you to spend your last moments alone with the child, in the heat, no water, no food. You will hear his cries growing weaker and weaker until finally he succumbs to hunger and thirst and exposure to the harsh wind and sun, and know you have failed to protect him. All that you have endured will have been for nothing; you and the child will still die.”

He leaned down and kissed her in a gruesome parody of a lover’s farewell, then laughed softly, rose and walked away. She heard him give orders to his men and the sound of many horses fading into the distance. She cried out to Legolas in her mind, begging his forgiveness for failing in her duty as protector of the child and as his wife.

When the first “executioner” began his assault, she began to feel a coldness welling up inside of her and, instead of fighting for control, welcomed her inner beast. She began to work her wrists in the leather straps securing them to the tree. With enough twisting, she began to bleed, and her blood started dissolving the thin leather. It didn’t have to eat through each loop; enough to weaken it and she could free herself. The pain was quite irritating and she embraced it. The angrier she got, the colder her monstrous self became.

She could feel the bite of a blade in her right boot. As she had hoped, her captors had always been impatient and had not bothered to remove her clothes, never suspecting a proper lady to be hiding a weapon. As the bonds around her wrists dissolved she tensed her muscles for action. As soon as she felt them slipping away, she jerked her arms back over her head, hitting her assailant in the face, hearing the satisfying snap as his neck jerked back and he fell limply. She continued to arch back, letting his lifeless body fall from her and reaching down to pull from her boot the dagger Baelwith and Morhir had made specifically for her when she’d first met them in Rivendell. It cut into her leg, but she didn’t notice as she whipped it out and sliced through the bonds on her right leg.

Rolling over, she brought her right foot up, connecting with another of the Rhunians who had foolishly decided to try to help his comrade. She aimed her kick so it caught him under his chin and again, was rewarded with the sound of his neck snapping. She cut away the straps holding her left leg and sprung to her feet. Rhunians surrounded her and she gauged each one’s reaction time before choosing the quickest first, thrusting the dagger into his belly, releasing the catch in the handle and twisting, gouging a hole wider than her hand in him, His entrails spilled onto the ground as he collapsed in shock.

She used her claw-like nails to rip the throat from another of the attackers with one hand while she sliced and thrust with the dagger in her other hand. She let everything go black and sank into the bloodlust of her private demon. She relished the warmth of Rhunian blood as it sprayed across her body, soaking her gown. She knew her eyes were probably completely black because she was seeing her prey as blood vessels in the vague shape of men, and could hear it rushing through their bodies with the beat of their hearts.

She was oblivious to the blows they landed on her body. None of them were fatal so she ignored them. The Rhunian numbers decreased steadily and eventually, she realized there was nothing left alive.

Well, not exactly. She heard a high-pitched wail and smelled something like sour milk. She spotted the little creature in a basket beside a large rock. It didn’t seem to be a threat and it took a moment for her to realize this thing was not something to kill. As she calmed down and the murderous instinct began to recede, she looked down at herself. She was covered in blood. Finding a water skin, she used a bit of it to wash the blood from her face and hands. Her raw wrists and the cuts she’d suffered in the battle had already clotted and she knew they would heal quickly, as none were too deep or too serious.

Once she had returned to almost normal and was relatively clean, she went to the basket and picked up the child, speaking soothingly to him, singing some nonsense song, rocking him.

“Hush, baby. It’s ok. No one’s going to hurt you.” She walked the camp, checking the bodies. Eight Rhunians lay dead. Unfastening her collar, she tossed it to the ground in disgust. She collected the water skins her executioners had secured to their saddles, and consolidated the contents into three skins. She took one of the swords off of one of the men, and looked for food. They must have been expecting a short ride to wherever they were bound, since none had anything to eat among their belongings. She released the horses, keeping one to ride herself. The others galloped away to the northeast. She hoped they found food and water.

“Come on, baby. Time for us to head home.”

Securing the sling holding the infant, she managed to climb up onto the horse without injuring the child. She grimaced at the discomfort of sitting astride the beast and the first few steps the horse took sent jarring pain through her body. But she knew she had to get back to Gondor, so she tried to put it out of her mind.

She was worried about the child. She’d fed him some goat’s milk and water on the way out of the kingdom; but Goroth had taken the goat with him when he abandoned her and the babe to the tender care of his men. She prayed the child would be all right with water until she could find a farm or someplace to obtain milk. But the prospects were not good. She was unfamiliar with the area and the terrain appeared somewhat desolate.

Still, she had promised Eowyn she would guard her son and she was determined to make certain she returned him safely.

She tried to put her experience out of her mind, but could not get away from the nagging thoughts of how she had been defiled. In the quiet twilight, she became aware of a voice whispering to her mind, telling her foul things. She was no longer worthy to be the wife of an Elven prince; the seed of Rhunian savages still trickled from her body. She tried to shut it out, but it was quite persistent and soon began to wear her down.