Gifts of the Valar

Disclaimer: 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 journey was remarkable for its ordinariness. The last time most of those in the group had ridden through Mordor and Rhun, they had been chasing what they later found to be an evil Elf and trying to end a war that was slowly draining the kingdoms of the free people of Middle-Earth. Now, they rode to comfort a friend and visit their kin, though some among them also had thoughts leading toward vengeance, if the opportunity presented itself.

They passed near where Alexandra and Elboron---the son of the Prince of Ithilien and Steward of Gondor, Faramir, and his wife, Eowyn, who was also the sister of Eomer, King of Rohan---had been left to die by Goroth. They did not ride directly through the place, but those who had made that journey before were conscious of its proximity. Oddly enough, the one it did not seem to bother at all, was Alexandra. As a mortal, Glorfindel had told her she had much more resilience than the Eldar when it came to such abuses, and it seemed his words were proven true. She had dealt with what had happened to her and moved on, secure in the love of her husband and the love and support of her friends. It was something an Elf would not have been able to do.

They were met by some of Vanurion’s guardians shortly after they passed the site of Alexandra’s unfortunate incident. In his letter, he had mentioned that if Rumil or any of the western Elves wished to visit Charika, they would be welcomed, and so the Rhunian Elves did not question their reasons for entering their realm. Most of them recognized Legolas and the others from their last trip north and so there were many greetings of past acquaintances.

Helcarin was fascinated by the Rhunian Elves---they looked so different from the ones he had known all of his life, though Erestor came close in general appearance. Their attitude and manner were also a bit different from the Elves of the west. The eastern Elves had the same air of vague danger the warriors of the west carried, but there was also something a bit less restrained than their western kin. He thought for a moment of the Mirkwood Elves, Legolas’ people, and how they seemed to be relaxed and friendlier than other Elves, and decided these eastern Elves had that same quality, only more so. They seemed easy for mortals to relate to, perhaps because they had co-mingled and interbred with mortals for millennia.

Within three days of crossing into the realm of the Rhunian Elves, they found themselves at Vanurion’s keep. He had chosen to remain in his own lands rather than take the fortress from which Goroth had ruled for many millennia. He had felt it important that his people know that power had shifted from the decadent, debauched and ruinous ways of Goroth, to one of hope, represented by Vanurion.

When they rode into the courtyard, Vanurion was there to greet them. He and Legolas embraced and Alexandra was given a chaste, but welcoming kiss as well. Helcarin and Erestor were greeted with respect and enthusiasm and the northern Elf immediately felt at home among these people.

While not as imposing as Goroth’s keep had been, Vanurion’s home was spacious and comfortable and they were all shown to chambers where they could freshen up after their journey. Cunion, the chief healer among the Rhunian Elves, took Rumil aside immediately after their arrival and apprised him of Charika’s condition, assuring him that she was in no immediate danger and that he should take time to relax before going to see her.

Once she had washed the dust of the road from her body and spent some ‘alone time’ with her husband, Alex went in search of Charika’s child. She really wanted to see her friend, but felt it was more important that Rumil visit her first. Besides, in all of the concern over Charika, and Rumil and Legolas’ plans for revenge---they thought she didn’t know of them simply because she hadn’t questioned them---no one had even mentioned the baby. Alex had not one maternal instinct to her name, but did have a soft spot for the weak and the helpless, and it seemed to her that in this entire sad mess, the child was the most innocent, and most overlooked, victim.

She found Vanurion after asking one of the eastern Elves his whereabouts, and he rose from his desk when she came into the room.

“I trust your accommodations are suitable?” he asked with a smile.

“They’re lovely. I like the way things are so … lush here.”

He laughed. “It is different from the west.” She was once again struck by the exotic beauty of the eastern Elf. His silky black hair reminded her of Erestor’s, but his eyes, which shifted between blue, gold and green, had more of an almond shape and a slight upward slant. He shared the same fair skin as all Elves, but the Elves of the east seemed to have more of a golden luminescence than their western cousins.

They chatted about superficial things for a few moments, then she asked about the child.

“He is in the nursery,” Vanurion replied. “He seems to be quite healthy and thriving. The nurse says there is nothing wrong with his appetite.”

”Charika---how does she treat him?”

The Elf shook his head. “She ignores him completely. She has not held him and the few times she has seen him since his birth, she does not even seem to recognize him.”

“I suppose he is a painful reminder,” Alex mused.

“What happened to her … I do not know how to explain it.”

“Legolas called it a ‘sickness of the soul’.”

Vanurion nodded. “That is as apt a description as any. She seems to have frequent nightmares and fears to sleep alone. She has been found sleeping on the floors of different bed chambers when others awake, as if she seeks the company of others. She finally was moved into the women’s quarters where there are always others around. It seemed to calm her some. Still, she is prey to night terrors. She … if she were an Elf, I would say she is fading. Would you like to see her?”

“Very much. But I will wait until Rumil has spent time with her. Somehow, it doesn’t seem right that I should see her before him.”

The Elf nodded his understanding.

“I would like to see her son, though. Is he named yet?”

Vanurion indicated she should follow him and they started through the complex of the large keep.

“Tinudir,” the eastern Elf answered.

“Small star boy?” She was sure the translation was wrong, but it had to be something similar.

“That is a close translation. He is a little shining light in the darkness of his mother’s sorrow. I hope she will be able to find her way back, but our healers do not hold out much hope.”

“Maybe Rumil can help her,” Alex said. She knew Legolas’ love was what kept her going when she thought things were at their worst. But then, she and her husband shared a bond Charika and Rumil did not.

“There is that hope,” Vanurion sighed as they passed through a set of doors guarded by several Elven warriors. Alex could see they took the security of their children seriously here. Then again, their lives had always been full of intrigue and maneuvering worthy of some of the most devout Machiavellians. They needed to protect their offspring.

She was surprised at the number of children in this section of the keep. There was an enclosed courtyard where several were at play under the watchful eye of nurses and guards.

“Are all these yours?” she asked.

He laughed. “No. Some of them are descendents of mine, however. Most are children of my clan. I have not fathered any children in many seasons. Tinudir will be raised as my child, however.”

“You’re a good ma---Elf, Vanurion.” She caught herself just in time. He glanced at her with a wry expression.

“I am many things, my lady. Good has never been used to describe me, however.”

“I don’t care what anyone says about you. You certainly aren’t all bad.”

He smiled and opened another door. A woman sat nursing an infant. She glanced up with a smile.

“Welcome, my lord. He is hungry again.”

“So I see,” Vanuarion said with a chuckle. “He should grow into a strong man.”

“Aye, my lord.” She looked at Alex in askance.

“This is Lady Alexandra, wife of Prince Legolas, Lord of the Elves of Ithilien. She is a friend of Charika and wishes to see Tinudir.”

“Let me see if he is ready to let go,” the woman replied as she eased her nipple from the babe’s mouth. He frowned, but did not cry, and she smiled. She sat him up in her lap and rubbed his back until he burped, then handed him to Alex.

The only other child she’d ever held was Elboron, who had been younger than Tinudir when she’d first found herself charged with his care. Still, she found holding the baby made her feel almost---almost maternal. His eyes were a dark golden brown, almost amber and she wondered if he had his father’s eyes. She remembered Lastharos as being incredibly beautiful---she’d almost thought him an Elf. But she could not remember his eyes.

A small amount of dark fuzz covered his head and she could see he would have black hair, like both of his parents. His skin was like deep golden honey and she thought he would be quite a handsome man.

She sat down and played with him for a while, talking to him, enjoying the softness of his skin, the ‘baby smell’ so many women found irresistible. Vanurion leaned against a table and watched them, a small smile on his lips.

“Poor baby,” she said in her own language. “You’re very lucky. You have a wonderful new daddy who will make sure you’re taken care of. I hope you have a good life, Tinudir.” She said a silent prayer for the future of the infant, then handed him back to his nurse.

“What about a mother-figure? I mean, do any of your … ladies take up time with him?”

Vanurion thought for a moment before he realized what she was asking. “He does not want for mothers. The women of my household dote upon him.” After thanking the nurse, they left the quarters and on the way back to his study, he asked, “Have you and Legolas not yet had any children?”

She shook her head. “No, and we will not have any. I am unable to bear children.”

“Forgive me. I did not mean to bring up an unpleasant subject.”

“Oh, it’s alright. I’m not mother material anyway. And what would Legolas do with a child? He’s going to the Undying Lands. It’s not like he needs an heir.”

Vanurion looked at her with interest. She did not seem to see what should have been obvious to her.

“May I speak plainly, lady?”

“Of course.”

“Your husband may desire a child of your body because you are mortal and will someday die. A child would be something tangible that he could love and cherish for eternity; it would be a part of you that he would have with him always, long after you have gone to the halls of your fathers.”

Such a thought had not occurred to her. Legolas had never mentioned children; but then, he had known long before they had ever joined that she was unable to carry a child. Perhaps he just did not say anything because there was nothing that could be done about it.

She and Vanurion parted company in the main part of the keep and she made her way back to the chambers she shared with Legolas. He was not there and she decided to take a nap. She suddenly felt very tired and the bed, hung with sheer and silky cloths, covered with delightfully decadent cushions looked so inviting. Without bothering to take off her gown, she settled onto the bed and was soon in deep sleep. She did not awaken, even when her husband came to the room and undressed her, then removed his own clothes and gathered her in his arms. They slept peacefully through the night, the long days of their journey catching up with them.


Cunion knew it would not be long before Rumil sought him, and he was correct. Only an hour or so after their arrival, the Lorien Elf found the healer in a section of the keep reserved for treating the illnesses that befell a household consisting of a large number of mortals, and injuries that Elven warriors living in a violent land could be expected to suffer. Cunion looked up from the herbs he was sorting into various jars and smiled.

“You wish to see your lady?” He did not believe in wasting time with polite small talk.

“Aye,” Rumil replied. “Is she … in pain?”

“Physically? I do not believe so. The pregnancy and birth were quite difficult and she suffered much discomfort. Since the birth, she has healed and no longer has the burden of the child, the swelling, the nausea. But her heart and her soul suffer. Her injuries now are all to the spirit and I do not know what we may do besides comfort her.”

They started down the hall and Cunion continued. “She eats only if told to, and then only if a male orders it. She seems comfortable with the women, but clings to males while fearing them as well.”

“She has always been told what to do by males, and they have been both her protectors and her abusers for all of her life. I believe she sees women as ineffectual. She has never seen strong women first-hand.” Rumil was disheartened by Cunion’s words. He knew how timid Charika could be.

The healer looked at the western Elf. “Not even Lady Alexandra? She is a warrior and a female---a mortal one at that. And the she-Elves in your armies are certainly strong role models.”

“I suppose Alexandra is the exception. To Charika, the she-Elves among us were just as frightening as the male Elves. She did not have much interaction with them except for perhaps Meriel and she did see Queen Arwen a few times.”

Cunion paused at a door leading to one of the small, enclosed gardens. “I must warn you, my friend. She is very different from when she left Ithilien. I hope you will be able to get through to her.”

He opened the door and they went into the yard which was shaded by several large trees and had flowers and soft, green grass carpeting the ground. A stone grotto held a pond in which brightly colored fish swam and Rumil was reminded of Legolas and Alexandra’s private garden. It was a peaceful place, much like this one.

They walked over to where a woman sat braiding the long leaves of some of the flowers into a chain, which seemed unending. She did not look up at their approach and was intent on her work.

“Charika,” Cunion said softly. “You have a visitor. He has come a long way just to see you.”

She looked up and Rumil was struck by how different she appeared from the vibrant woman he had known a few months earlier. True, her eyes had been shadowed with fear before she departed Ithilien, but at least there was something in them. The eyes of the woman he looked upon now, held nothing. She seemed to be looking deep inside of herself rather than out at anything in the world.

She did not smile in greeting nor seem to recognize him and his heart felt sick.

“Hello Charika,” he said. “It is good to see you again.”

“Hello, my lord,” she replied, her voice sounding oddly rough, as if from disuse. Gone was the light, musical tone she had always had. She looked at him as though awaiting his … orders.

“May I sit and talk with you?” he asked and Cunion nodded farewell---he would leave them some privacy.

“Of course, my lord. I am your obedient servant,” she replied and turned back to her endless braiding of blades of grass and long leaves.

Rumil lowered himself to the ground across from her and looked at her appraisingly. Her black curls were no longer glossy, but hung limp and dull. Her skin was somewhat ashen and did not glow like sunlight through honey, as it once did. She had lost a great deal of weight and her bones were prominent, making her appear as though she would shatter at a touch---gone were the lush curves that had felt so soft against his body.

But the worst thing was the loss of her joy. He did not care about her physical appearance, only that it seemed to reflect her inner torment. He mourned the loss of the sparkle in her eyes, the laughter in her voice, the vivaciousness in her every action. She had seemed to be doing, if not well, then not this badly, when she had left Ithilien. True, she had been frightened, but she had bravely smiled and told him she would return when the child was born and that she would carry him in her heart always.

“Do you remember me, Charika?” he asked in a gentle voice.

She did not look up from her work. “You are an Elf, my lord. I believe I once shared your bed.”

He closed his eyes. She said it as though referring to a piece of furniture that might have once been in her house.

“Do you remember my name?”

She looked up and studied him. “I … Rumil. I believe that is correct, is it not?” Again, no spark of recognition, merely the stating of a dry fact.

“Yes,” he forced himself to smile as he spoke. “We lived together in Ithilien.”

She thought for a moment. “With others of your kind.”

“Yes.”

She looked back down at the green leaves in her hands and selected one to continue the chain. “Have you come to take me back with you?”

“Do you wish to return to Ithilien with me?”

She tilted her head and looked at him questioningly. “I go wherever I am told to go, my lord. It is not for me to say. If I belonged to you in the past, then you must have come to claim me from my new masters. I will go with whatever master I am so ordered to follow.”

Rumil felt his heart catch. “I am not your master, Charika. I was … am … your lover. You have no master.”

He saw something flash in her eyes and for a moment thought he had broken through her layers of misery. Then he realized what she felt was fear.

“No, my lord. I have only masters. I serve as I am ordered.”

“It is alright, Charika,” he said, soothingly. “You may return with me if you wish. If you prefer to remain with your … new master, then I will not take you from this place.”

He saw relief in her expression and it broke his heart. “What do you remember of how you came to be here?”

She thought for a moment. “I do not know. I remember being in great pain. Then there was someone who came to me in my dreams---he told me he would find me and take me back; that he was my rightful master. Then, I remember tremendous pain that lasted for so long. Then, the pain was gone and my new masters told me I was safe. But, the beautiful beast would come in the night and tell me that he would find me and take me away; that I had no master but him.” She seemed to study Rumil. “He was like you. He was dark, but he was beautiful like you.”

Rumil controlled his anxiety. “Does he still visit you in your dreams?”

She shook her head. “He does not wait for my dreams,” she whispered, looking around as though expecting Lastharos to appear at any moment. “Whenever I am alone, he will speak to me and tell me that I cannot hide from him; that he will find me. The others here, my other masters, tell me I am safe, but he still comes to me.”

“Is he here now?” Rumil had no idea how such a thing was possible, but he had to take her fears seriously. Lastharos had dark forces at his command so the Elf had no doubt he could infiltrate the dreams of his prey. But did that mean the Khandun knew where she was?

She shook her head. “No. He does not usually come when others are around.”

“So why do you seek solitude?”

The look on her face was sad. “When he comes to take me, he will kill all around me. I do not wish these people to die needlessly.”

Rumil felt himself grow cold. What had Lastharos done to her?

“They say you are in the women’s quarters. Does he come to you there?” He kept his voice calm.

“Not when the other women are awake. But when everyone goes to sleep, he talks to me. I just don’t think he can talk to me when there are others around.” She sighed. “I wish they would let me sleep at the foot of my masters’ beds. He would not be able to take me from them.”

“Would you like to stay with me while I am here?” He could not bear the thought of her lying awake at night, waiting for Lastharos or one of his beasts to torment her.

She looked at him. “I am yours to command, my lord. If you wish for me to share your bed, then I will do so. Please, let my masters know so they will send me to you.”

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I will tell them, Charika.” He stood. “Will you be alright here alone?”

“Yes, my lord. He only talks to me when he comes to me. It is not yet time for me to go with him. I suppose he has other business and I am not that important.”

“Do you know him? This other master?” He was curious to know if she recalled Lastharos as he was, not as simply a voice and vision.

Her gaze dropped. “I know he brings pain. I do not remember him, but I remember pain. When I try to think of him, it hurts me.”

“He will not hurt you, Charika. I promise that you will not be harmed by this … man.”

“Thank you my lord.” Her attention returned to the chain she was making. He could see the green stains on her fingers and smell the grassy scent of the bruised leaves and blades. He watched her for a moment longer, then walked back through the door to the corridor. Cunion was seated in an alcove along the way back toward the wing where his infirmary was located. He rose as Rumil walked toward him.

“She seems to be tormented by the one who did this to her,” Rumil said. “What has she said about him?”

Cunion gazed out the window for a moment. “She seems convinced this person is watching her and will come to take her. It started several weeks after she arrived here, about the time the pregnancy became extremely difficult for her. She developed swelling, had constant nausea, trouble breathing---common things for a woman whose babe is large while she is small. We did what we could to ease her discomfort, but she awoke one night, screaming, ‘He is here, he is coming for me.’ There were no intruders, but she was insistent. After that, she became more and more withdrawn. It was as if she forgot she was pregnant; when she went into labor, she did not seem to know what was happening. The delivery was not pretty. I finally gave her medicines which let her sleep and we took the baby.”

Rumil listened with rising anger. Lastharos had put her through so much when he had raped and abused her; his torment continued with his spawn. He caught himself. He could not blame the child---but it was so difficult.

“When she awoke, she denied the child was hers; she said she had borne no babe and refused to have anything to do with him. She would wander the halls at night, often going into the sleeping chambers of different people here. I know I awoke to find her sleeping on the floor beside my bed on more than one occasion, as did Vanurion and several others. That was when we decided to move her to the women’s quarters permanently, so she would not be alone. She still has nightmares and will often seem to be speaking to someone when no one is around.”

“She speaks of her … masters. Do you know to whom she refers?”

Cunion smiled sadly. “She seems to think any of the males here are her masters. She apparently is so accustomed to be under the control of someone, she takes comfort from what seems familiar to her.”

“I was unsure if anyone had … claimed her.” Rumil did not know how else to put it.

Cunion shook his head. “No, my friend. None would take advantage of your lady in such a manner.”

“I would have her stay with me while I am here,” he said. “Perhaps I might give her some comfort.”

Cunion nodded. “I hope the lady will find peace with you.”

“Is there anything else I should know? Was she … damaged by the birth?”

Knowing what the other Elf was asking, Cunion shook his head. “No. There should be no problem joining with her, if you so desire. I do not know how she would feel about it, though she has not seemed to be reluctant. She seems to find comfort in physical contact.”

Rumil nodded. “Thank you for all you have done for her.”

Cunion sighed. “I only wish I could have done more.”

Rumil cast a last glance out the window where she sat in the garden. His beautiful Charika was merely a shadow of her former self and once again, his resolve to kill Lastharos was reaffirmed.