Tears 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 air grew colder and soon the Elves and Alexandra found themselves in a snow-covered landscape with frequent winds blowing the precipitation blindingly. Had it not been for keen Elven eyesight, they might have lost their way. Naveradir told them the weather had been the same the last time he had made this journey and that a valley hidden among the peaks could afford them some respite from the driving snow.

With Naveradir’s memory as a guide, they found a niche that was protected from the brunt of the wind-driven snow and set up camp for an evening, giving their mounts time to rest. Thanks to Naveradir’s foresight, they had gathered some firewood along the way and so had a supply handy for building a small fire for warmth. The party fed and watered their mounts and stabled them in the protected area near the fire. After melting some snow for water and eating a bite of lembas, they settled in to rest with Haldir, Sarendir and Elladan taking turns keeping watch.

Pomea sat next to Helcarin with Cunion on the other side, leaning against the rock wall that surrounded them on three sides with a small opening to the outside on the fourth wall. She laid her head on Helcarin’s shoulder as he wrapped them both in his cloak and Cunion did the same on the other side.

The others huddled together for warmth as well, though they did not actually mind the cold as much as mortals would. Still, the air on the mountains was quite frigid and none wished to have his reactions diminished even a bit because of the elements.

Alexandra found herself surrounded by warm Elves and she nestled against her husband contentedly. As strong as she was, she was still mortal and the bone-chilling temperatures would take their toll quickly on her. Legolas held her in his lap with Orophin on one side of her, Elrohir on the other and the rest shielding her from the elements. Glorfindel, Saelbeth, Orophin and Rumil did not wish a repeat of the incident that had occurred when they had last pursued Lastharos and Alexandra had almost died from the cold.

“Whatever watches in the mountains is still here,” Naveradir said quietly.

Erestor nodded. “I feel it growing stronger the further we go.”

“But you say nothing happened while you were here before?” Vanurion adjusted the hood of his cloak a bit to keep the cold air from his cheek.

“Nothing but being disturbed by the sensation of being watched,” Naveradir replied. “There were no incidents during our journey through the mountains.”

“What about on the plains on either side?” Rumil asked.

The ancient Elf shook his head. “Our journey was remarkable for its ordinariness. Finding Lastharos was the only nasty surprise that greeted us.”

“He is bad enough,” Legolas commented dryly. “Though if we were to find him here this time …” He let his words trail off and all understood. The Khandun needed justice brought upon him and they intended to do so.

“Can you tell how much further until we are out of the mountains?” Helcarin asked Naveradir. “How much further until we reach the place where you found the waters?”

“We should be through the mountains in five, maybe six days. At least, we should have made it to the lower elevations,” the Rhunian Elf replied. “Once we are into the valley, we will begin to smell the sea within the week though we will not need to go all the way there.”

“How did you find the exact spot to begin with?” Alexandra asked him. “If it was supposed to be lost, how did you know where to go?”

The others looked toward the ancient Elf, interested in his answer. He thought for a moment, then smiled.

“I am not certain exactly how it came about. I thought it was simply fortuitous that I discovered the place. Over the years, however, I have come to believe that perhaps I was guided by a force greater than simply good fortune. When I set out, there were many Elves still around---including Goroth---who had set out on the Great Journey. Their help was invaluable, but they all believed it had been destroyed. Taking clues from what they remembered, I followed the landmarks and time frames they remembered, and, eventually, simply came upon it.”

“Was Lastharos already there when you arrived?” Rumil was not happy with the thought of the Khandun being anywhere around the Sacred Waters.

Naveradir nodded. “He was there along with his entourage. There were a few mortals traveling with us and they went to speak to his party. I was uncomfortable around him and I was not the only one. Other Elves felt a distinct sense of danger emanating from the man though the mortals with us did not seem to notice. Once they returned, however, they said they had been bothered in the presence of his people, and that he was uncommonly beautiful---disturbing in many ways though they could not pinpoint any single thing that gave them pause.” He looked down for a moment. “I was quite happy to see him leave with his people.”

“How did you stay hidden from him?” Saelbeth inquired.

“We remained out of sight of the mortals, far enough away they would have had to go hunting for us to find us. The scouts we sent ahead told them they were simply travelers who had turned aside to explore the mountains.”

“Lucky for them they did not find Lastharos on a day when he was in the mood to slaughter,” Elrohir commented. “He seems fairly non-discriminatory about who he enslaves.”

“From what we know of him, he enslaves all he conquers,” Vanurion told them. “He also buys slaves from the Haradhrim as well as enslaving criminals, though what constitutes a crime in his land must be interesting. He indulges his own base desires and kills, rapes, maims and tortures as he pleases, takes what he wants and is never called to question about it. How he can condemn anyone else in his realm for any crime is beyond imagining.”

“Corrupt leaders often have a strange sense of morality,” Alexandra mused. “They believe they are above the law, but everyone else must abide by it. If they don’t force the people to follow the law while they themselves break it, how can they show how superior they are? They have to make sure everyone knows they are too powerful for the laws to apply to them, so it seems to enhance their image, making the regular people look at them differently.”

“Given that Lastharos has ruled them for 7000 years, the people of Khand likely know no different,” Orophin offered and the others agreed.

The Elves and the mortal in their midst quieted and drifted into light sleep while their brethren watched over them. Alexandra, for all of her uneasiness, found it easy to fall asleep surrounded by her husband and his kin. She never felt safer than when she was with Legolas and their friends and, as she did so often, she thought of how they were true guardian angels in the dangers of this world.


***


“What is it?” Elrohir asked, moving up beside Glorfindel and Saelbeth.

“It seems to be a rather repulsive swamp,” the golden-haired Elf-Lord replied.

Elrohir frowned. “A swamp? Here? With ice and snow all around?”

“So it would seem,” Saelbeth affirmed. The odor was indeed foul, and the mist rising from the still, black waters was out of place in the midst of the wintry setting.

“Naveradir, do you remember this place?” Glorfindel called. The ancient Rhunian Elf climbed up the rocks to stand beside the others and looked puzzled.

“Indeed I do not. This entire place was frozen when I was here last. I would certainly have commented on something this anomalous.”

Eventually the rest of the party joined them atop the ridge looking into the valley below. They were still in the higher elevations of the mountains where snow and ice were prevalent. A swamp was the last thing they expected to see atop a mountain range.

“What was here before?” Haldir asked Naveradir.

“If I am remembering correctly, it was simply rocks and snow and ice. Nothing remarkable.” Naveradir studied the terrain and nodded. “That is correct. It was no different from the surrounding area. In truth, there was very little interesting about the entire journey except encountering Lastharos when we actually found the Waters of the Awakening. Otherwise, it was simply getting there and getting back.”

Erestor looked into the murky valley and felt an inkling of discomfort. Perhaps whatever changed this place was what they had all felt before entering the shadows of the mountains.

“Where were you when you felt you were being watched?” he asked Naveradir.

“The feeling started just as we started into the mountain pass,” their friend answered. “Then, it grew for a while and dissipated as we reached the plain on the other side.” He once more looked at the swamp. “It was strongest through here, however.”

“Are you suggesting whatever it was that ‘watched’ them also changed the land into this?” Elladan asked his former teacher.

“There are many strange things in Arda that we do not know of or understand,” Glorfindel told them. “It is possible something from before the beginning remains here. I recall tales of things which dwell in the deep, dark places of the world; things that were there before the Song of the Ainur was completed. We do not always understand these things.”

Legolas recalled the Watcher in the Water at the entrance to Moria when he and the other members of the Fellowship had been forced to take that route through the mountains. No one knew what it was or where it had come from …or even how long it had been there. Looking at the black mirror-like surfaces before him, he was reminded of that creature and did not wish to enter the swamp unless it was absolutely necessary.

Orophin stood behind the prince and could sense his friend’s trepidation.

“You have an idea of what might lurk here?” the Lorien warden asked Legolas.

“I am simply remembering the Watcher. I do not wish to expose any of us to a similar danger.” His gaze fell upon Alexandra for a moment and a shadow of concern was visible in his eyes. “It would be too easy to become lost in such a place.”

Orophin glanced at Legolas’ wife and knew his friend was concerned for her. Alexandra had become increasingly quiet on the journey and seemed to be becoming more and more withdrawn as the trek progressed. Orophin was concerned as well; her behavior of late had been erratic and she seemed to fall into melancholy frequently. He wondered if it was simply a behavior common to mortals or if something was truly wrong with the woman. In any case, he did not like to see his friends suffer, regardless of the reason.

“Well,” Vanurion finally broke the silence, “I suppose we should proceed.”

“Is it possible that if we camp here tonight, we can get through it before dark tomorrow?” Sarendir asked. He did not want to be caught in the middle of the foul wasteland when the sun went down. It would be too easy, even with Elven sight, to step into one of the pools or other dangers that were hidden in the mist.

“I do not know,” Naveradir replied. “The way was quite long, several days’ journey through these mountains. I do not know if this swamp continues for the entire length of the pass or not.”

Helcarin looked at the sky then to the others. “What do you think? We have over half of a day left, though I do not relish the thought of camping in that place.”

“It seems we will likely have no choice,” Glorfindel responded.

“Unless we were to go back and around the mountains,” Pomea suggested hopefully. She did not wish to go through the place at all, but wherever Helcarin went, she would be with him.

“We do not know where the mountains end or begin,” Helcarin replied. “For all we know, they completely encircle the Waters, extending even into the sea.”

They pondered their choices, then Elladan spoke up.

“I say we go on and get started through this place now. Perhaps it is not as long as we think it may be, nor as objectionable.”

The others agreed and went back down from the ridge to where their horses waited patiently. They had been in the mountain pass just over four days and according to Naveradir’s recollection, were getting close to the end and should start their descent to the plain within another two days. Still, it seemed things had changed since the ancient Elf had last been this way and each hoped no more ‘surprises’ awaited them.

“Are you well, my love?” Legolas asked Alexandra as she mounted. He swung onto Arod and reached over, tilting her chin so he could look into her eyes. Fathomless pools gazed back at him.

“I am fine,” she replied in a low voice.

“I will take you back. We are not compelled to go forward.” Legolas could feel sadness and the edge of despair through their bond. He did not understand what was bothering her, but he suddenly did not want her in that swamp. As he had told Orophin, it was too easy to become lost in the unsteady ground where dark water and Valar-knew-what creatures lurked below to drag unwary travelers down into impenetrable depths.

“No,” she replied. “I wish to go on. I will keep my hood up. Just tell the others, if they ask, that I am lost in my own thoughts and do not wish company.”

He nodded, then leaned over and kissed her softly.

“Do not leave my side,” he told her with a smile. They followed the others, bringing up the rear of the group as it wound its way along the barely visible path.

The Elves and Alexandra passed through an archway that seemed to be made of ice and into a narrow passageway that gradually gave way from ice to water running down the sides and from snow pack to mud on the ground. The air around them, however, never seemed to grow any warmer.

When they emerged from the tight pass, they were in the swamp they had seen from the ridge. Though mist rose from stinking pools of black, still water, the air remained freezing around them. The Elves were not affected by the cold, but they could tell the temperature was far too low for there to be a swamp so vast.

“Maybe there’s a volcano, like Mount Doom, underneath there that’s keeping the ground warm and giving the water some heat,” Alexandra murmured to Legolas. “It would also explain the smell of sulphur or whatever that stench is.”

“A fiery mountain beneath here?” Her husband frowned. “I suppose it could be possible.”

“Well, it’s a better explanation than ancient monsters,” she retorted.

“Then what is it that causes our feelings of being watched?” he asked. “A simple mountain would not do that.”

She sighed. He was correct; and whatever was causing the sensation of being stalked was growing stronger the further they went into the swamp.

The going was slow through the landscape and more than once, they had to stop and lead the horses through, the Elves testing the strength of the ground before allowing their mounts to follow.

One thing they all noticed was the silence surrounding them. No living creatures seemed to exist in this place and the sound of wind or gently falling snow that had accompanied them up through the mountain pass to the ridge above the swamp, was now quiet. The only sounds were of the horses’ feet and an occasional snort or whinny from the beasts.

“It is as the Dead Marsh,” Elrohir murmured to Erestor.

“Except there are no dead beings looking back at us,” the counselor replied.

“How do we know that?” his young friend shot back. “We cannot see what is beneath the surface of these dank waters.”

“True,” Erestor acknowledged. “And there are no fires burning here as in the Dead Marsh.”

“A situation for which I am quite grateful,” Elrohir laughed. “I ruined a perfectly good tunic in the Marsh once.”

Erestor smiled as he pictured Elrohir’s likely reaction to the loss. His eye caught Helcarin watching them and his smile grew tender. His son was a fine Elf and Erestor was filled with paternal pride. Even for an ellon so young, Helcarin exhibited calm and discipline that some Elves took thousands of years to develop.

Helcarin returned his father’s smile then once more turned his attention to following in Naveradir’s footsteps. The ancient Elf seemed disturbed at the change in the landscape and Helcarin wondered if it was simply finding the terrain different, of if the Rhunian Elf perhaps sensed something more.