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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Orophin and Glorfindel rode in front of the forward party, far ahead of Legolas, Faramir and the main force. Orophin’s skill as a scout and tracker was unmatched, and Glorfindel had no equal in his power as a fighter and healer. They rode in silence, each afraid of what they might find. After the discovery less than a day into their journey, of a piece of cloth Orophin identified as the underwear Alexandra wore, their anxiety for her safety increased.

Glorfindel asked the Lorien Warden how he knew the flimsy cloth to be Alexandra’s, although a part of him feared the answer. Orophin gave him an exasperated look. “The Southron woman makes them for her. I once helped Charika braid the straps.”

Alex’s personal dressmaker dwelt with the Elves in Ithilien and Orophin had been one of the warriors who had gone to the woman’s village and accompanied her to Alexandra and Legolas’ home. If rumor was correct, Orophin’s brother, Rumil, was spending much of his time with the seamstress, but Glorfindel did not wish to engage in idle speculation.

“I do not think we should tell Legolas about this discovery,” Glorfindel counseled, and his companion agreed. No need to add to the prince’s worries.

A day later, they were surprised to encounter a party of Mirkwood Elves. Findecano, the Chief of the Guardians of Mirkwood gave a respectful bow as they met.

“Queen Arwen sent word to King Thranduil of his daughter-in-law’s … unplanned journey. He sent us to try and intercept them, but they have moved amazingly fast and craftily through the region. I would almost think they were of the Firstborn.”

“Have you found any further traces?” Orophin had to admit he was glad to have more Elves with them. He did not doubt the dedication and loyalty of the Men in their party, but the abilities of his kin were known to him and he felt an added sense of security.

“There is an abandoned tent not far from here. It shows evidence of someone being bound inside.” The Mirkwood Guardian gave the other two Elves a significant look. “There was also evidence of a male having … spent himself near where the other party was secured.”

Glorfindel and Orophin shared Findecano’s disgust. While they knew the odds were against Alexandra getting out of this situation totally unscathed, physical evidence was still distressing.

The Mirkwood Elves joined the scouting party and were welcome additions. The Men of the party found the Wood-Elves to be less intimidating than the primarily Lorien and Rivendell Elves who made up the majority of the Firstborn in their company. Orophin and Glorfindel smiled to themselves as they sensed their mortal companions warming up to these new Elves. They knew they were perceived as somewhat arrogant, but, as Haldir would have said, they had worked to establish that image and were satisfied it was effective.

Now, they dismounted in order to follow the almost invisible trail left by the Rhunians. The two Elves approached a ridge and looked down over the empty plains of Rhun.

“They were here not long ago,” Orophin said, rising from where he had been examining the ground. “One day at the most.”

“They move quickly,” commented Glorfindel.

“They are traveling light,” the other Elf replied, studying the horizon. “They obviously---.” He stopped. In the distance, he saw a lone rider, barely a speck against the wasteland.

Glorfindel followed his gaze. “Is it Alexandra?” Even for Elven eyes, the rider was too far away to distinguish features. For the men who had ridden ahead with them and were waiting a few yards back, the rider was invisible. But, if the Elves said someone was there, then it was so.

Orophin was silent for a moment as he and Glorfindel focused on the rider drawing closer, then leapt onto his horse and began riding down the steep embankment.

Glorfindel turned to the men. “Tell Lords Faramir and Legolas, we have spotted a rider.”

“Is it the Lady and the babe?” asked one of the Gondorian soldiers.

“I am uncertain, but we will soon know,” he evaded smoothly. It was definitely Alexandra and she looked the worse for wear. He wanted to reach her before the others so they could be prepared for what Legolas and Faramir may find upon their arrival.

Orophin was the first to reach her. She seemed to be staring through him, as if she did not really see him. Her horse was walking slowly; he grasped its bridle and the animal halted. Alex’s expression remained distant.

“Alexandra?” He said her name softly at first, then with more force. “Alex! Are you all right? Where is the babe?”

She slowly turned her gaze on him, and he was taken aback by the emptiness of her expression. Glorfindel rode up just as she took the child from his protective sling and offered him to Orophin.

“I had no milk for him,” she whispered. “I gave him water, but he’s been so hungry.”

Orophin took the infant and pulled the covering cloths back. He searched for signs of life and was relieved to see and hear the child’s soft breathing. Glorfindel dismounted and reached up.

“Give him to me. I will see to him. You make sure Alexandra is well.”

Passing the bundle to the older Elf, Orophin turned back to the silent woman. He slipped from his horse and held out his hand.

“Alex, are you injured? Let me help you down …”

“No!” She jerked away from him. “I’m fine. I can do it myself.” She slid off of her mount on the opposite side, so the horse was between them. She walked a few steps away, her back to the Elves.

Glorfindel and Orophin exchanged glances, and the Lorien Elf followed her. He noted her gown was torn and blood stained it. It was dried blood that had soaked into the material. At least he knew it was not hers. Her blood would have destroyed the gown.

“Legolas is only moments behind us, Alex,” he said in a low, soothing voice. “I would not have him see you like this. Please. Tell me what happened. If you were hurt, Glorfindel can see to your wounds---.”

“No. I am uninjured, Orophin. Thank you for your concern, but please, see to the child and leave me alone. There is nothing …” Her voice broke. “Nothing,” she whispered.

He walked around and faced her, reaching out to lift her chin. Her eyes were so haunted, his heart ached. She stepped back.

“Don’t touch me!” she hissed. “I am unclean.” She looked down, studying the ground. “I am no longer worthy of the touch of an Elf,” she said in a small voice.

Orophin felt sick. Their fears were confirmed: she had been raped. Legolas would go mad with rage, and he himself could barely contain his own anger.

“You are not ‘unclean’, Alex. You have been wronged and it is a terrible thing, but you are not tainted.”

She looked at him for the first time since their conversation began. “I can’t give up my life as do the Elves. But I’m already dead inside. I must live the rest of my life without the touch of my husband, the one I love more than anything in all of creation. I have no life left to give up, even if I could.”

He was confused. “Why do you think you must live without Legolas?”

“I’m impure. Legolas will be contaminated just by touching me.” Unshed tears filled her eyes. “I cannot do that to him. I will release him from his bond---he is fouled by being joined with me.”

Her words tore at his heart. Legolas would be devastated. He had to convince her she was wrong; that while what had happened to her was an awful thing, it did not change who she was or her husband’s love for her. It did not change his own love for her.

He reached out and pulled her into his arms. She fought against him and tried to push away, but he only held her tighter. Normally, she would have been his match in strength, but she was weak from her ordeal and did not have the will to fight. Eventually, she stopped her struggle and buried her face against his neck. He felt hot tears soaking into the tunic beneath his armor and kissed the top of her head as he murmured words of comfort. His heart was filled with hatred for the Rhunians who had done this to her and had caused his friends so much agony.

“Your husband loves you, Alex. What has happened will not change that. Do not turn away from him---it will hurt him more than even he could bear.”

“He … he will not want me once he knows what happened to me. He will always see me as damaged and spoiled. He will never be able to love me like he did.” Sobs wracked her body and he tightened his embrace.

“You are wrong, Alex. His love for you cannot be diminished, especially not by the actions of evil men.” He yearned to tell her that his love could not be diminished either, but it would not be appropriate.

He heard the riders approaching and was conscious of the image they must present. However, he could not pull away from her, not in her present vulnerable condition. It was important that she see that Elves did not find her repugnant nor consider her tainted. Whoever had told her that lie had been cruel and malicious.

Legolas leapt from Arod before the horse even halted and ran to where Orophin still held Alex. The Lorien Warden met her husband’s worried eyes and sent a silent plea for understanding.

The prince felt his heart halt in fear. She could not be injured---she had to be safe. He stopped short, then reached out a tentative hand.

“Alex, my love? Are you … ?” He could not complete his thought. What was he going to say? Was she all right? Obviously not. He looked at Orophin helplessly.

The other Elf whispered to the woman in his arms. “Legolas is here, Alex. He desires the comfort of holding you.” He eased her from his embrace and into the prince’s waiting arms.

Alex could not bring herself to look at her husband. She kept her face buried against his shoulder, but the strength of his body, holding her, felt so good, so safe. She began to weep anew as he stroked her hair and tried to control his rage. The ones who did this to her would pay dearly.

He looked at Orophin over the top of her head as she cried. Silently, he asked the question, and Orophin answered without words, confirming his fears. He closed his eyes and concentrated on being strong for his wife. Now was not the time to indulge his anger. But that time would come.

Meanwhile, Glorfindel had examined the child and assured himself the babe was hungry, but healthy. He held Faramir’s son and implored the grace of the Valar to strengthen the infant. When the Steward arrived with Legolas and his men, the Elf walked over and presented the bundle to him.

“I believe this is yours,” he said with a smile. The tears of pure joy streaming down Faramir’s face touched his heart and he could not help but feel thankful that father and son were reunited.

As Legolas and Alex stood together, Orophin and Glorfindel walked several paces away where they could talk quietly. Eying the younger Elf, Glorfindel spoke softly.

“The lady was … abused?”

Orophin nodded, fighting the disgust that threatened to overwhelm him.

The Seneschal of Rivendell sighed. “Legolas’ anger will be terrible. But he is entitled.” Looking the other Elf in the eye, he added. “Your love for Alexandra is no secret, my friend.” At Orophin’s sharp glance, he continued, “Nay, you have done nothing that could be construed as improper. But take care: you do not want to give the lady’s husband reason to doubt you.”

If it had been anyone else, Orophin would have drawn his sword and run him or her through. But Glorfindel was wise and he respected the ancient Elf immensely.

“My love for Alexandra is that of a dear friend, as is my love for Legolas. And the prince has no reason to doubt the honor of my feelings for them both.”

“I know, my friend. But there are others who do not always understand the ways of our people. Take care you do not give anyone cause to wonder how deep your friendship with Legolas’ wife may be.” He cast a knowing glance at the Men in their party. “Mortals do not love as we do and they attach carnal desires to what they sometimes call love, far too often.”

Orophin followed his gaze. The Men seemed more concerned with the heir of the Prince of Ithilien than any side drama’s involving the Elven prince’s wife and himself. But Glorfindel was correct; Men did not always separate love and lust, and with Alex and Legolas on a knife’s edge, emotionally, he could not allow even the appearance of impropriety.

“She believes she is no longer fit for the touch of her husband,” he told the other Elf. “She is concerned about ‘contaminating’ him. Apparently, she believes an Elf would be repulsed by what has happened to her and shun her.”

“Where did she get that belief?” The Rivendell Elf was stunned. “Surely, she has been with our kind long enough to know we would never turn away from her because of something like this. It is not her fault; she has been dishonored, but not soiled.”

“I know not where the idea came from. Possibly because she knows how rape is abhorred by the Firstborn, and how those of us who have suffered it sometimes die from despair, she believes it is something we would expect. That she is bound to take her own life.” He looked back over to where Legolas held his lady. “I fear she may try to harm herself. She is quite convinced that her life is over.”

“Legolas will not allow her to do herself injury,” Glorfindel replied. “He will post a guard on her day and night, if need be.”


Alex had never felt so desolate in her life. When she’d been forced to endure the attentions of the Rhunians, she had told herself, ‘It’s only my body’. Intellectually, she knew rape was about power, not necessarily about sex, and she was not to blame for having been the victim. She’d thought she’d be able to deal with the repercussions. Even when she killed her attackers, she thought that would be the end of it; she’d had her revenge. Only Goroth remained. He was beyond her reach and she knew she should just let it go. But as long as he still lived, at least one man existed who had been party to her shame, and that knowledge ate away at her peace. Still, she tried to put it in perspective: she was alive and had protected the babe from injury; none could fault her for doing what was necessary for the child’s safety.

But that voice had begun speaking to her as she and Elboron rode back toward Gondor, and the things it said began seeping in to her subconscious. Now, she could not shake the feelings of despair and self-loathing that threatened to consume her. She craved her husband’s touch, but was afraid of it now. He would always see her as despoiled and could not help but find her disgusting.

Legolas held her close. His poor wife had suffered greatly since they married: first, tortured at the hands of a corrupt Man and his demon master, now, raped by a group of savages from the east. Her native world had been nothing like Middle Earth and he feared she would end up hating and resenting him due to the indignities she had endured because she had bound herself to him.

He also feared she would reject his touch. They had always been quite happy with their sport and were imaginative and adventurous when it came to indulging their desire for each other. But he knew many women who had been abused as Alex had, were never the same. They often avoided the touch of their husbands and lovers, and withdrew. For Elves who had suffered what she had endured, despair would have dragged them down to the depths from which they would have no choice but to either go into the West or give up their lives. The shame was great for mortal and Eldar alike, and he somewhat selfishly wanted her to be just like before. He could not bear to see the light and joy gone from her eyes.

But he was unsure how to convey his feelings to her. It was too soon, he knew, to do anything except just let her know he loved her and she was safe. Yet he did not want her to think he was avoiding the obvious either. He did not know what to do, or who to ask. The only one who even remotely had any experience in these sorts of things had traveled to the Undying Lands. He silently asked the Valar to guide him.

The Men watched the Elven Prince and his Lady with mild interest. That she had likely been forced to satisfy the Rhunians was accepted as a matter of course, since everyone knew the men of the east were uncivilized. Those among the troop who were husbands themselves could feel the Prince’s pain. Those with daughters as well, shared his outrage. All feared, however, that if such a thing could happen to the wife of a powerful Elven Lord; and their Queen, the Lady of Ithilien and the Queen of Rohan had all been threatened; then their own wives, daughters, and sisters were at risk.

“Come, my love. We will go back to Minas Tirith, and then home to Ithilien.” Legolas whistled and Arod trotted over. He lifted his unresisting wife onto the horse’s back, then mounted behind her. He reached around and made sure she was firmly in his arms before turning the horse and trotting back in the direction they had come. The Elves in their company, along with Orophin and Glorfindel, followed. Faramir and his men joined them, the Steward holding his son, having secured the sling Alex had fashioned, about himself.

He had wanted to speak with Alexandra, thank her for watching after Elboron. But when he saw the exchange between Orophin and Legolas, and her obvious distress, he stayed back. He knew she had probably been maltreated by the Rhunians and did not wish to interrupt. She needed her husband right now, and no other intrusions.

They rode with little conversation and Alex slept most of the time, secure in her husband’s embrace. She leaned against him and slowly began to feel protected and safe with the solid feel of his body supporting hers. But that nagging voice whispered to her that he only did it out of a sense of duty. His love for her had been stained and would never be the same.

When they stopped to make camp, Alex and Legolas stayed apart from the rest. The Elves placed themselves between the Men and their lord and his lady. They knew the couple needed to be alone, free from the prying eyes of mortals who may mean well, but might only make matters worse.

Legolas approached Glorfindel and Orophin the third night, his expression immensely worried. His friends did not say anything, but waited for him to speak what was on his mind.

“She sleeps all the time,” he said as he sat across the fire from them. “She does not speak unless directly asked a question, and she will not meet my eyes. She does not eat and will only take sips of water. Every time I touch her, she stiffens, although she eventually relaxes. I … I do not know what to do, and I am afraid.”

Orophin remained silent, but Glorfindel asked softly, “What do you fear, Legolas?”

The prince looked down at his hands, at the mithril ring he wore on his finger, signifying their bond. As long as his fears remained unspoken, they did not have true substance. He did not want to give them any more power, but he needed to talk to someone.

“I am afraid she will harm herself; that she will give up on her life, and take it in her despair. I fear her loss of joy and happiness, and that she will be repulsed by me.” His voice dropped to barely a whisper. “I fear she will hate me.”

Orophin’s heart ached for his friend. For both of his friends. He could not bear to see Legolas so … so lost. The Mirkwood prince had always been so self-assured and took such joy in life that he made others feel good just by being around him. When he had become bound to Alex, his already unlimited happiness grew. The two of them were ideally matched and so obviously in love it was impossible not to share their delight.

But now, Alex was a pale shadow of her former self, and Legolas seemed to be weighed down by the pain of his beloved.

“She has not spoken of her … ordeal?” he asked his friend.

Legolas shook his head. “No. She barely answers yes and no questions. She never volunteers any information.” He sighed. “I wish I knew what she was thinking. How can I help her if she will not talk to me?”

“Do not force her to speak of it,” Glorfindel counseled. “When she feels safe enough, she will confide in you. But she needs time.”

“She is afraid you will reject her because of what happened,” Orophin added. Legolas looked up in shock. “She believes she is no longer worthy to be your wife.”

“Why? Where did that idea come from?” Legolas could not believe Alex could entertain such thoughts. She knew how much he loved her and that nothing could change that.

They became aware of another presence approaching them. Looking up, they saw Faramir enter the circle of light cast by their fire. He and Legolas had not spoken since finding Alex and his son two days earlier. He had been spending his time with the child. Riders had fanned out and found a farm with a goat that they could buy so Elboron would have milk. Alex was the only woman with them, and she was in no condition to care for an infant.

“Forgive me for not coming to see you earlier, Legolas,” the Steward began. In fact, he was feeling terribly guilty. Alex had sacrificed so much in order to be a guardian for his son, and now her husband was paying the price as well.

Legolas smiled sadly. “You have been busy, my friend, as have I. We each have our own concerns. I apologize for not coming to see your son. Glorfindel told me he seems to be a healthy lad.”

“He certainly has healthy lungs and bowels,” Faramir said with a chuckle. “I love him, but I must confess, I will be grateful when we reach Minas Tirith and his nurse can take over. I am completely out of my element.”

The Elves smiled. Fatherhood was obviously a harder job than it looked.

Sobering, Faramir asked, “How fares Alexandra?”

Glancing at his fellow Eldar, Legolas shook his head. “She is melancholy, and does not speak. I do not know what to do. She seems to think she will be blamed for what happened to her and that I will no longer want her.”

Faramir shook his head. “I am sorry, Legolas. I never thought … She seemed like the type who would be so resilient in the face of adversity. Surely, she knows she was not at fault.”

“Knowing and believing are two different things,” Glorfindel pointed out.

“I wish to thank her for protecting my son. I have no words to express my gratitude. But I also cannot tell you how sorry I am that his protection came at such a cost. Forgive me, my friend. I feel responsible for this turn of events. If only Eowyn had stayed in Ithilien, …”

“Then she would have not gotten Ioreth’s care and would have been alone with even less protection and they could have taken both her and the child without qualm. No, my friend, things happen as they are meant to. The will of the Valar placed Alexandra in the right place to prevent injury to your son and your wife.” Legolas said the words, but, as Glorfindel had pointed out, knowing and believing were not the same. Still, he would not blame Faramir nor let his friend feel guilty because the Rhunians had done evil against them all.

Faramir could hear the conflict in Legolas’ words, but the Elf was too kind and well trained to voice any anger or resentment to his friend. Faramir clasped the prince’s shoulder in silent gratitude.

“If there is anything I can do, you know you need only speak it.”

Legolas nodded and gave a small smile to the Steward as the latter returned to his son.

“What of the Rhunians who did this?” Orophin believed them dead, but they had not sought the bodies to be sure.

“You saw the blood on her gown,” Legolas answered. “I do not doubt they are dead. None pursued her.”

“What did they hope to gain by this exercise? They accomplished nothing that I can see.” Orophin tried, but could find no logic in the Rhunians’ actions. “Surely, they did not think they could escape? They had to know they would be pursued.”

“But they did not know their convenient nurse-maid had the ability to kill them,” Glorfindel pointed out. “They thought she was a kinswoman of Arwen …” his voice trailed off. “They thought she was a She-Elf.”

The others looked at him questioningly.

“She is tall like our kind, much taller than most of the mortal women. She is fair, strong, lovely and wears her hair and dresses in the manner of the Elves. She could be mistaken for an Elleth by those unfamiliar with our kind.”

“But still, to what purpose? They took what they presumed to be a member of the queen’s family and the son of the Steward of Gondor. They threatened and tormented the queens of Gondor and Rohan and the wife of the Prince of Ithilien. Then, they left with their captives, knowing they would be pursued …” Understanding dawned in Legolas’ eyes. “They wanted to draw some of us away from the war. They knew we would send forces to Minas Tirith and in pursuit of the kidnappers.”

He stood and strode swiftly through the Elven camp into the area where Faramir’s men were resting.

“Faramir!” he called. The steward moved over to meet him.

“We must go south. We believe this action was a diversion to divide our troops and take some of us away from the front.”

He quickly filled the Steward in on what they had deduced. Faramir nodded in agreement. “We will leave immediately,” he said, when Legolas interrupted him.

“Go on to Minas Tirith, my friend. You must return your son to safety. Although riders have taken the message of his recovery to the palace, Eowyn will not rest until she satisfies herself he is well and it is important to be together as a family. Return Elboron to his mother first.”

“What of you? Alexandra can come with us to Minas Tirith---.”

Legolas shook his head. “No. She will come with me. If I leave her again so soon, she will think I have abandoned her …”

“And it will reinforce her belief that you have turned from her.” Faramir nodded. It was not an ideal situation, but perhaps when they got to Ithilien, the lady would be strong enough to remain in the safety of the Elven colony.

“The Elves will leave immediately for southern Gondor,” Legolas said. “When you arrive in the capital, inform Haldir and Saelbeth of what we believe and have them ride south with the rest of the Elves as well.

The Steward and the Prince gripped each other’s arms in farewell and Legolas returned to the Elven part of the camp. He sought Findecano and the others of his father’s kingdom. He told them the theory they believed behind the Rhunian’s actions.

“I thank you, and send my gratitude to my father for his help. But I would ask that you return to Mirkwood---and remain watchful. These … men may continue to harass the northern borders of Gondor, and may not stop there. Arwen said they did not seem to fear Elves and they may even cast their eye in your direction.”

The Guardian nodded. “We will continue to guard the north and east. None are safe when such creatures are allowed to go unchecked.” He lowered his voice and a note of sadness crept into his voice. “We regret we did not find the Lady before she was injured, but our prayers to the Valar will remember you both and the rest of our kin.” He embraced the son of his king. “You know you have only to call upon us if you require aid.”

Legolas smiled. “Thank you, my friend. Farewell, and may your journey be peaceful.”

“And the Valar guard you on your way,” Findecano replied.

Legolas began organizing the Elves for their flight south, when he remembered his wife was unguarded.

Alex! He had left her sleeping. He raced to where she lay and was relieved to see her still there, eyes closed, breathing deep and even. For a moment he had feared she may have run away or harmed herself. Perhaps the ride south would help her. She had been a warrior among her native people, so she may actually enjoy the war. He smiled to himself. Not many could say that of their wives. Faramir could have at one time, but now that she was a mother, Eowyn had other priorities.

He gathered their belongings and leaned down to awaken her. She looked at peace only when she slept. When she was awake, her eyes were incredibly sad and she never smiled; but in sleep, her face relaxed and she appeared almost happy again.

“Alex, my love,” he said softly. “Come. We are going south.” She frowned slightly and curled into a tight ball. He sighed. She had always been difficult to awaken and not very pleasant when forced from sleep before she was ready. Rather than try any longer to rouse her, he simply scooped her into his arms and carried her to where Arod waited.

Glorfindel saw them and smiled. Walking over, he held out his arms and Legolas handed his wife to the other Elf while he mounted his horse. Once astride, he reached down and Glorfindel handed Alex up to her husband. Legolas settled her in his arms so she rested against his chest, and thanked his friend.

The Elves rode quickly south, directly through Mordor. Although the terrain was rougher than going around through Ithilien, it was a shorter distance and took less time than the detour. Legolas regretted that he could not at least take Alex home; however, he did not trust having her out of his sight, even if she were guarded by his people. Perhaps he should have sent her to his father. But that may have appeared to her that he was sending her away for reasons other than her safety. Besides, he refused to leave her side; if she was afraid of being forsaken by her husband, he was determined to prove her fears baseless.

For the most part, she rode in silence. She responded to questions, but still would not talk to him, unless he spoke first. She kept her eyes averted from his and the other Elves’ and his heart wept for her. She had always been so confident and outgoing, quick to laugh with the warriors and their circle of friends. He could not take out his vengeance on her attackers since she had already killed them---he had asked her their fate and she had told him, without emotion---but he was prepared to do so on their kin and allies.

Glorfindel suggested that when they rendezvoused with their forces, he might find one of the She-Elves among the warriors who could talk to Alex, perhaps get her to open up.

“Sometimes, females are more comfortable discussing things with their own kind,” the Elf said. “I do not think she is likely to do so with any of us.”

“The presence of other females may help her spirits, too,” Orophin added. “Remember, she was the only female in a company of Men. Now she is the only female---and a mortal one at that---in a company of Elves.”

Legolas had not considered that fact. Since she had a firm belief that Elves thought her sullied, she could not be comfortable in her present situation. Perhaps the presence of females and the nearness of other mortals would help ease her mind.

Their ride through Mordor could not pass fast enough for the Elves. The evil of Sauron and his master, Morgoth, permeated the landscape. Legolas recalled how he and Alex had traveled through this land during their search for the missing palantir, and how Alex’s own inner demon had been summoned here. At least they were not passing near Cirith Ungol. He had no doubt, she would once again desire to seek the spider in her cave. Only this time, however, he feared she would look to Shelob to end her misery rather than hunt the beast as prey.

His memories of their last visit, however, caused him to wonder if perhaps her private darkness might help lift her out of this quagmire of misery in which she was slowly drowning. He was almost tempted to detour to the steps, but the urgency of returning to the battle in southern Gondor kept him on course.

They had no choice but to stop and let the horses rest a few times during their ride, and they were ever alert to the dangers that still seemed to lurk in the cursed land. The sky seemed to always be dark, even when the sun was up and there were no clouds; and the Elves were especially sensitive to the evil emanating from the very ground. Although they gave their mounts time to recover for the continued journey, none of the warriors slept.

Alex seemed oblivious to her surroundings. She looked neither left nor right as she sat astride Arod. He resisted the urge to rest his cheek against hers, or to kiss and caress her, as he would have before her trip east. Now, he was afraid of hurting her, causing her fear or pain. He was at a total loss, so he just held her gently, trying to let her know he was always there for her.

Before they had turned south, he had found a stream in which she could bathe. He led her down to the water and, removing his armor, waded in with her. He had thought she may wish to bathe alone, but the niggling fear that she might try to drown herself or run away forced him to accompany her.

“Do you wish my help, Alex?” he asked. She shook her head.

He sighed softly. “I have clean clothes for you. We will burn the gown, if you like.”

She nodded without looking up, and pulled the tattered, bloody garment over her head, dropping it into the water. Legolas picked it up and tossed it onto the bank so it could dry. Alex stood with her back to him, arms crossed over her breasts, body hunched over protectively. He was surprised at how fragile she appeared. She had always had a strong, somewhat voluptuous body, well-muscled, as befitting a warrior, but soft and curving in all the right places. Now, she looked as though she would shatter with a touch. Again, he cursed the men who had done this evil to his love.

“I will be right here if you need me,” he told her, sadly. Before this awful mess, she would have undressed him as well and they would have chased each other through the water, likely ending up on the opposite bank, making love before returning to the camp. Now, she could not bear to have his eyes upon her. He felt almost as if the woman he had married had died on the plains of Rhun.

Yet, he could still feel their bond, as strong as ever. He could feel her in his heart, her love for him shining and as powerful as always. But he also felt pain, fear and misery. So much fear. If only she would talk to him.

When she had sunk under the water to wash her hair, he had felt a moment of panic. What if she did not come up? He had begun to move toward her when she stood up, water streaming down, plastering her hair to her body. It had gotten quite long over the past few years since she had come to Middle Earth. Now, it clung to her body like a dark golden shroud.

He took her hand and led her back to the shore where he handed her a blanket he had brought to wrap around her. She clutched it as he dealt with her hair.

“Will you sit, my love?”

She sank to the ground silently, kneeling back so he could braid her hair with ease. He wrung her hair dry and untangled it with gentle fingers before parting it and working the intricate braids into her mass of hair. When he was done, he handed her the clothes and turned away slightly as she dressed. She did so with her back to him and his heart was filled once again with anger at her attackers. It had been needless. They had hostages---a woman and an infant. They did not need to abuse her. Such behavior was beyond the comprehension of one who had lived his entire life by a strict code of honor.


He considered it fortunate Alex had bathed before this trip. Mordor had no clean streams---at least no waters he would dare allow his wife or his people to enter. The very air seemed to carry the stench of evil.

When they dismounted, she sat on a rock, shielded from the view of the majority of the Elves as they allowed their horses to rest. Keeping her in sight, Legolas stood with Orophin and Glorfindel. All of the Elves were uncomfortable in this place, even the ancient one.

“I do not like the air here,” Glorfindel told his friends. It is as if I inhale corruption and evil with every breath.”

Orophin nodded. “It is a desolate place. The ghosts of atrocities haunt this land.”

Legolas had to agree. He kept looking around, as if he expected to see … something. He was positive something stalked them in Mordor.

“How is she?” Neither of his friends had approached Alex after that first day. She avoided everyone and would have stayed away from Legolas had he not taken that choice away.

The prince sighed. “She still does not speak unless I ask her something directly. I finally got her to eat a bite of Lembas yesterday. I do not know how long it has been since she ate anything. She will drink a little water, but never asks for it. At least, she no longer cringes when I put my arms around her to ride.”

Orophin watched his friend as he spoke. The mixture of pain, anger and sadness in Legolas’ eyes was heartbreaking. He was glad he had never found someone with whom to bind. That kind of love was frightening: it offered so many opportunities for agony and misery. The rewards were great, but the costs seemed unbearable.


Alex sat quietly and tried to shut out the voice. It had haunted her since they crossed into Mordor. She did not recognize it except as the voice of a nightmare. She had heard it as she’d been forced to submit to the rutting of the Rhunians. It had taunted her then, told her she was worthless; she deserved what she got. She had tried to ignore it then, and thought she had succeeded.

After giving in to her rage and slaughtering the Rhunians to a man, she had thought the voice silenced. But as she and Elboron rode back to Gondor, the voice began harassing her again. It had told her that she was now marked with the stain of rape. For Elves, she was completely ruined and she should do the honorable thing: release her husband from his bond and take her own life.

She tried to block it, but the words began to haunt her, until she found she believed them. The voice fell silent when Orophin had taken her into his arms and she’d had hope for a brief moment, that maybe she could go back to her old life. When Legolas had arrived and had held her to him, she had felt so conflicted. She wanted to be with him, but feared contaminating him with her dishonor. Still, he hadn’t seemed to mind, and so she’d relaxed a bit. She was still afraid, but felt so much safer surrounded by her husband’s arms and his love.

Once they crossed into Mordor, however, her unseen tormenter returned, whispering to her that she was tainting every Elf in the company and she was unworthy to travel with them. She tried to shut it out and, it would fall silent at times. At least when she slept, she did not hear its hateful murmurings.

Now, she sat apart from her husband and his kin, and tried to silence the voice.

“You know, the Elf prince is only standing by you out of a sense of duty. Notice how he never tries to kiss you or caress you. You are no longer desirable to him. Your body has been used by savage Men and is no longer a fitting vessel for his pure, Elven seed.”

“Shut up,” she whispered, tears welling. Not just tears of misery, but tears of anger.

“Ah, the truth is painful, is it not? See how the others look at you? They are repulsed by your presence; it is an insult to them that you are still alive. Even your dear friend Orophin and the mighty Glorfindel have not spoken to you since they found you. It is all they can do to endure your company; they only tolerate you because of your husband.”

“Shut up,” she said softly. Would this voice never leave her alone?

“Why do you fight it so?” The voice sounded so reasonable. It was low, almost pleasant. “You can end this pain and misery right now. There is a dagger over there, a remnant from the War of the Ring. It is old, a bit rusty, but still sharp enough to do the trick.”

She tried to resist, but could not help herself; glancing around, she spotted the dagger, just as her voice had said. It continued in a conspiratorial tone.

“He is not watching; he is talking to his friends, telling them how he detests you, but remains by your side because of the bond. They sympathize, and all wonder why you do not just do your duty and end this torment. Pick up the knife. It is long enough and sharp enough to pierce your flesh and end your miserable, pathetic life.”

Without realizing she had moved, Alex found herself standing out of view of everyone, holding the old dagger. It was stained with what looked like Orc blood, black and repugnant. But that would only help her cause. If she survived the cut, infection would set in and she would surely die despite any care the Elves may deign to give her. Of course, if the cruel voice was correct, they would be relieved that she was dying and would not take any steps to prevent it.

She grasped the handle with both hands and aimed the point just under her sternum so it could tear through her liver and into her aorta. She would die of blood loss before anyone would miss her. It would hurt like hell, but the pain would only be brief, unlike the agony she had been living with for over a week.

She took a deep breath and tried to think of the good things she had known in her life. Almost all of them were from the past few years here in Middle Earth: the beauty of Lothlorien, Rivendell and Ithilien; her little dogs, Dexter and Dita; drinking and dancing with the Elves as they celebrated one thing or another---despite their calm exteriors, when they were among their own kind, especially Legolas’ Mirkwood kin, the Elves relaxed and indulged their love of music and fine wine; and the double-edged sword of her life with Legolas. The last memory was so bittersweet, she almost cried out. She loved her husband with all of her heart and soul, and had never known happiness like she had in his arms. But that love was the same reason she had to do this; she had to end his misery---the misery of being bound to a wife polluted by the lust of dishonorable men.

She drew her arms out and thrust the knife hard and fast. She had thought the pain would be unbearable, but there was none. Then she noticed arms around her, holding the knifepoint far enough back that it only touched her tunic lightly. She cried out in frustration and turned on her savior.

Glorfindel twisted her hand, forcing her to drop her weapon and pulled her against his body, holding her arms so she could not push off to free herself.

“You will not harm yourself, Alexandra,” he said in a firm voice. “You must leave this darkness and come back to those who love you.”

She struggled against his embrace. Had she been taking care of herself, she realized, she would have had the strength to free herself. At least, she could have put up some sort of a fight---Elves were her equals physically, unless her other side was free.

His vivid blue eyes fixed hers and she was unable to look away. He seemed to shine with an inner strength. For the first time, she saw him as the mighty Elf Lord Glorfindel, Chief of the House of the Golden Flower, Balrog Slayer, and twice-embodied immortal. His presence was overwhelming and she ceased her attempts to free herself from his arms. It was as if he could see into her soul.

“You are safe and loved very much, Alexandra,” he said in a gentle voice that, nonetheless, brooked no argument. “You are surrounded by your kin who wish you nothing but joy and desire nothing so much as to see you whole and happy with your husband.”

“But I am unclean,” she whispered brokenly, still unable to break eye contact with him.

“No, you are not,” he said matter-of-factly. “The one who insinuated these things into your heart lied, and lies still. He will always lie. He wishes only to disrupt and destroy. Do not listen to him.”

“But, to the Elves, I am---.”

“The wife of their prince,” he finished for her. “Rape is unforgivable---for the rapist. You were the victim. There is no reason for you to feel guilty or unclean. Elves who have been so abused give up their lives or go into the West where they can come to terms with what happened to them.” His gaze softened and he allowed himself a small smile. “For all the stories about how the Firstborn are stronger, fairer, and wiser than mortals, we are weak when it comes to some things; we are easily damaged by betrayal, and that is what rape is: a betrayal of one’s faith by showing that the most intimate, joyous act shared between individuals, can be used to punish. You are fortunate to be mortal, in this case. You are stronger and more resilient, emotionally than we are, and you can move past this anguish as Elves cannot.”

He lowered his voice and leaned close to her ear. “Your husband suffers greatly and needs your strength and comfort. All the misery and fear you have inside you, he feels as well, through your bond, where it joins with his own. For his sake, you must come back to us from whatever private torture chamber you inhabit.”

For the first time in days, he mind seemed clear---well, clearer than it had been. She bowed her head in acquiescence and Glorfindel smiled, kissing her lightly on the forehead before releasing her. She turned and saw Legolas and Orophin and a handful of Elven warriors watching her. Legolas looked shocked and hopeful; Orophin, wary; the rest carefully neutral.

She smiled uncertainly at her husband and met his eyes for the first time since he had last departed for war and his expression instantly changed to one of unsurpassed joy. She walked slowly and tentatively to him, where he took her into his arms and held her tightly.

“Oh, my love,” he whispered, “I have missed you.” He took her face between his hands and kissed her gently, as if afraid of injuring her. At a glance from Orophin, the other Elves immediately dispersed. Glorfindel and the Lorien Warden made their way back to their mounts, giving the couple some privacy.

“How did you know what she was going to do?” Orophin had sensed tension, but had been unable to ascertain its focus. Legolas was so distraught and caught up in his own misery, he had not sensed the evil presence that had settled around them.

Glorfindel, however, had been aware of a fell voice that seemed to drift in and out of his consciousness. It did not seem directed at him and he tried to hone in on it. While he and Orophin had been talking with Legolas, he noticed Alex becoming increasingly agitated, and she appeared to be speaking. He watched her closely and realized she was talking to someone unseen and it dawned on him the malignant voice was aimed at her.

Once he knew what to listen for, he was able to discern a few words. From Alex, he kept hearing her plead with the voice for peace. Of the voice, he could only hear a phrase or two, but it was enough; one sentence that had been quite clear was, “Pick up the knife.” He also heard the phrase, “… end your miserable, pathetic life.” When he saw her move out of sight, he knew her actions boded ill and he slipped away as Legolas and Orophin commiserated. Orophin was concentrating on supporting his old friend who was sliding into despair, probably because he sensed the same emotions in Alex and was unable to separate his feelings from hers.

He moved silently and quickly to find her poised to plunge a rusty Orc dagger into her body. Moving like lightening, he stepped behind her and caught her wrists just before the deadly implement made contact. Legolas and Orophin had noticed his absence and followed him just as he disarmed Alex.

Glorfindel smiled at his friend. “It was the will of the Valar. I have no answer other than that.”

Legolas and Alexandra were lost in their own world. They held each other as though afraid to let go. He did not wish to frighten or hurt her. He was unsure of what she was able to accept, and so held her tenderly.

“I love you, my princess,” he whispered as he covered her face with soft kisses.

“And I love you, my prince,” she answered. Her tears fell freely and he kissed them away, tasting their saltiness on his lips.

“I will not ask you any more about what happened, my love,” he said in a gentle voice. “But when---if---you ever wish to tell me about it or talk about your experience, I will be here for you.”

“Oh, Legolas. If you knew what I had to do … “ Her voice broke and she looked away.

“Shhh, little one. You had no choice. You cannot be blamed.”

“But, I did have a choice.” At his look of confusion, she continued. “I could have chosen to defy them, consequences be damned. It would have been hard, and I couldn’t have lived with myself later, but at least I wouldn’t have brought dishonor to you and your people---“

“No.” His voice was firm. “You have never dishonored me or my kin. Your sacrifice for the sake of protecting the child is beyond noble and none can fault you in anything you did.” He kissed her softly again, tasting her mouth, as sweet as it ever was. “Come, my love. Let us leave this accursed land.”

He lifted her onto Arod then settled behind her. She stole a glance at the other Elves and saw eyes filled with sympathy, support, friendship---nothing even remotely condemning or repulsed. She smiled timidly in return before she and her lord galloped ahead of the company toward the mountains which marked the southern boundary of Mordor. This time, when her husband put his arms around her, she turned her face so she could see him, and the loving smile he gave her went a long way toward healing her bruised heart. They kissed again softly and when her lips parted he eagerly responded.