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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As they rode through the southern mountains, she found it weighed on her heart to tell him of what had transpired during her time with the Rhunians. She had told him she killed the ones who had taken her, but had not told him about the ones who had left her and Elboron there to be “executed” by rape and slow death.

During a part of their ride where the going was necessarily slow, she decided she would have to tell him about Goroth’s escape, as well as the full horror of her forced servitude to the Rhunian warlord. She did not like keeping anything from her husband.

“Legolas,” she said carefully. “Are you ready for me to tell you more about what happened?”

He took a slow, deep breath before answering. “Are you ready to talk about it, my heart?” A part of him dreaded her words; if they were left unspoken, then perhaps it would be as if it had never happened. But he was practical enough to know some things would not simply vanish if ignored.

“Yes. I feel as though I should get it all out so it won’t eat me alive. I’ve thought about it, and as long as I hold it and keep it in, it will fester and infect my soul. If I pour it all out, it can’t hurt me anymore. But, I have to warn you, it’s not very pleasant.”

Legolas thought of some of the things he had experienced---that he had done---in his past. Many of them had been quite unpleasant. He could not help but find some ironic amusement in how his wife always tried to protect him from “ugliness”. She seemed to think he should only share in her happiness, never her sorrow; her triumphs, not her defeats.

“I believe I can handle it, my love.”

Taking a deep breath, she began her tale. At first, she was fairly straightforward, as if participating in a routine debriefing, reporting her movements from the time he left to go south until she got to the part where she was forced to mount the horse in front of Goroth. She hesitated only a bit when she told him of the Rhunian leader’s rough caresses of her breasts and thighs, his cutting her underwear from her body, his pressing her body against his on horseback and how she could feel his arousal.

Legolas felt his anger struggle to rise to the surface. That the Rhunian would dare to touch his wife in such a manner was enough to seal the man’s fate. Legolas would find him and kill him. It would be his quest. He said nothing to Alex of his rage, however; he simply held her and kissed her cheek encouragingly.

Oddly enough, the hardest parts for her were the threats the warlord made against Elboron, especially some of his more imaginative ones. When she got to Goroth’s threat to cut the child apart, piece-by-piece unless she submitted to his lust, she felt her husband’s breath catch, though he said nothing, and his arms tightened around her.

“Such behavior is beyond anything I have ever known. These people have no honor!”

“No, my love, they do not. Goroth even said he was only keeping the child alive to use to force my compliance. I know he didn’t really desire me, sexually; he simply wanted to force me because he could. He wanted to prove to me that he had all the power and could make me do things against my will. Even silly things, like milking the goat---he made me do it just to show he was in control.”

She continued with all of the sordid details: how Goroth had taken her while she was restrained because he did not trust her unbound, and because he was one of those who enjoyed treating all of his sexual partners as conquests; how he had collared and leashed her, like a slave; how he and the majority of his men had left her to be raped by his “executioners”; and how they had planned to leave her tied down and the child in his basket, to die and rot in the heat, where they would quickly succumb to starvation, exposure and dehydration---a slow and very painful death. She told him how Goroth had relished the thought of Faramir finding his son dead in the most horrible manners.

Legolas almost lost control of his temper as she described Goroth’s attempts to degrade her. He would make certain the man’s death was unpleasant. He knew he would not rest until the blood of the Rhunian was flowing freely. The man had invaded her body, tried to humiliate her, filled her with his foul spendings, then left her to be raped to death by his men. No punishment was painful and gruesome enough to satisfy Legolas’ wrath.

“All this for what purpose? To distract our forces? Surely, they knew they would be pursued.”

“Their whole purpose is simply to create fear and confusion among their enemy, Alex replied. “Kidnappings, executions, abuse, quick raids---all are part of their arsenal. They undermine the stability of their enemy by making the people feel unsafe and insecure, which often leads to calls from the people that their leaders acquiesce to their demands in the hopes of regaining their feelings of security.”

“It is completely without honor.”

“They don’t care, Legolas. It works. All they want are results.”

“So they attacked you and the babe simply to bring fear and disruption to Gondor and Rohan?” He could not fathom such rationale.

“It worked, didn’t it? A sizeable number of troops rode north after them; there was confusion in the kingdom; rumors ran rampant; and the people now feel less safe. You know what happened to me will be spread throughout the kingdom---there were enough men in the group who saw me to know. The specifics may not be accurate, but they’ll all have the general idea; and if such a thing can befall the wife of an Elven prince, what about their wives, daughters, sisters, even mothers? If the palace is insecure, what about the average person’s home? Men will be reluctant to leave their wives and children now for fear of further attacks by the Rhunians, and so will be reluctant to answer the king’s call to arms. As dishonorable as such tactics are, it’s difficult to argue with their effectiveness.”

Legolas saw her point. Still, it was beyond anything in his long experience. It was something that would never have occurred to Elf-kind, yet Alex seemed to have no problem grasping the concept.

“Were there people like this in your world?” he asked curiously. Her former life was a mystery to him and what he heard of it on the rare occasions she spoke of her past, made it sound like a place he would have felt quite alone.

“Yes, my people have an extensive history with these kinds of threats,” she answered. “The key to understanding their actions is in understanding how they live and what they believe. It is difficult for those of us who have never lived in Rhun or Harad to know what it’s like to be of those lands. No matter how hard we try, our views will be colored by our own experiences and backgrounds. Still, we have to try in order to have any hope of achieving peace.”

Her words rang true and he tried to imagine the life of the average Easterling or Haradrim. Perhaps because he was an Elf, it was still beyond him to fathom their rationale. He knew the people of those lands thought Elves were evil and frightening, and, not for the first time, wondered if indeed there were any of his kind in the East? The Awakening had taken place in the far eastern parts of Middle Earth, and men and Elves had moved steadily west. It was believed the Elves had all traveled into the western part of the land except for those that were believed to have become Orcs; but what if some of his kin remained in the east? What must their lives be like? Would they have embraced this … strange logic?

He tried to understand the Rhunian view, but no matter their reason, he could not forgive their treatment of his wife. His kind were typically slow to anger, especially Wood-Elves; they were usually quite happy by nature. But the abuse his wife had been forced to endure was not to be forgiven. Regardless of their motives, their actions were reprehensible and Elven rage, once awakened, was nigh impossible to assuage.

He kept his thoughts to himself. He did not want to cause his wife further distress; and he knew she would be upset if she knew he were so consumed with anger. Right now, he simply wanted her to feel safe and secure again, and if it meant putting off his revenge, he would do so gladly. But the Rhunians would pay for their actions. His memory was long and his days would, by the will of the Valar, be long as well, and he would have justice for his wife.


One of the scouts reported back that there seemed to be signs of a great battle engaged deep inside the Western lines. The Elves rode swiftly into the fray, sighting Haradrim and Rhunians down the shafts of their arrows, and taking down large numbers of the enemy. Because the Eastern forces had not expected an attack from the northeast, they were taken quite unawares and lost ground quickly.

Legolas had dropped Alex off before joining his brethren, leaving her a safe distance from the action. Kissing her even as he swung her free from the horse, his eyes met hers and he smiled.

“I know you could defend yourself, but you are unarmed at the moment. Remain here and I will return to you when the field is won.” He had taken her dagger when he saw how distraught she was upon their finding her.

She nodded and stepped back as Arod galloped onto the field of battle. Legolas fired his arrows smoothly and coldly, taking satisfaction in cutting down the Easterlings unfortunate enough to drift into his sight. He idly noticed he was almost exclusively targeting men of Rhun, but felt no qualms about it. They were his enemy.

When they finally took the victory in the battle, he left his brethren and rode back to where he had left Alex. She was not where she had dismounted, and for a moment his heart froze in fear. Then, he saw her in the distance, walking among the dead and wounded, gathering arrows with the Elves. He smiled. At least she was no longer hiding from his kin, so perhaps telling him about her ordeal had allowed her to begin to heal.

He rode up to where she and Orophin were working side-by-side, and slid from his horse. Wordlessly, he joined them and, when they had gathered enough arrows they deposited them in a cart brought to the field for that purpose.

He noticed she seemed to take special pleasure in yanking the arrows roughly out of the bodies of the Easterlings and decided that perhaps it was good for her to work out some of her anger and hurt this way, so he did not interrupt her, letting her wander the field until she finally turned to him and spoke.

“I’m hungry.”

It was the first time she had asked for food since being found and he could not help but tease her gently. “I have more Lembas.”

Her sour look brought a smile to his lips. “Come, my love. We will see what is left in the camp. I am sure there will be something to tempt your palate.” He lifted her onto his horse and swung up behind her. Kissing her cheek softly, he rode until they reached the Elven camp. Winding his way through to his tent, he held the flap open for her. Stepping inside, he saw everything remained in order, as usual. None would have disturbed his privacy among his people, and any documents needed for the battles he had turned over to Rumil and the twins before departing for the trip north.

He called for an aide to have fresh water brought and washed the dirt and blood from his face and hands. Alex did the same and removed her boots as some fruit and cheese were rounded up for a quick meal. He noticed her hesitancy when she picked up the knife to slice the apple, and taking it from her gently, cut the fruit into bite-sized pieces. He took one and placed it between her lips. Her eyes smiled as she accepted the morsel from his hand, then held onto his wrist so she could lick the juice from his fingers.

He felt a stirring of his constant need for his bondmate. She moved closer to him and reached out, touching his hair, tracing the curve of his cheek, the shape of his lips, the line of his jaw. She looked at him as if seeking the familiar details of his face and taking comfort in finding them. He did not move, but let her take the initiative. He knew he should be seeking Rumil and the twins, Aragorn and Eomer, in order to discover what had happened in his absence. But at this moment, all he was interested in was rediscovering the joy of the bond he and Alex shared.

Alex felt anxious, unsure of his response to her overtures. She had noticed his hesitancy at times when touching her, as if afraid she would be injured by his advances. Or as if he feared she would reject them. She also knew that many women who had been abused as she had, often felt sudden panic when placed in a position of intimacy. That was one of the cruelest things about rape: the thing which should have brought so much joy had been used to punish and a certain amount of fear then accompanied what ought to be one of the safest feelings one could share with a lover.

She could see his desire in his eyes although he did not move. He was letting her make the first move and she loved him all the more. There were times when he was masterful, taking control of her body and her passion, and driving her to incredible heights of ecstasy. Yet there were others when he was almost passive, yielding to her, and so tender it often brought tears to her eyes, she loved him so much. Her happiness was no less, regardless of what kind of lover he chose to be. Now, he was waiting to see what it was she wanted, willing to give her anything she asked.

Legolas tried to control his desire. He wanted nothing more than to crush her to him and sink into her body with his own. Yet he knew he must wait for her to let him know what she needed from him. This was not about his desires, but hers. Their relationship had always been one of mutual give and take, but this time, he knew it had to be all about her.

God, but he was so beautiful. Even after a bloody battle, he was pristine: not a hair out of place, skin pure and fair, no sweat anywhere. He even smelled clean and good, with his own scent that filled her with such longing. She sent a silent prayer of thanks that she had been blessed with such a perfect husband. He loved her above all else, even though she did not think herself worthy of the love of such a divine creature. It was like being wed to an angel.

He watched as her eyes focused on his lips and felt her fingertips lightly caress his chin. He remained motionless as she leaned closer and brushed her lips gently against his. He smiled slightly and she did it again, this time lingering a bit longer. Her hand drifted up to caress his shoulder as her other moved through his hair, tracing the tip of his ear ever so gently.

When next her mouth met his, she slid her arms around him and pulled him to her. His arms encircled her, holding her body to his as their lips parted and their tongues met gently, teasingly. His need for her was great, but his self-control was equally strong. He would not rush things with her.

Alex loved her husband’s kisses. He could always bring her to her peak when his mouth made love to hers. Their tongues entwined like their bodies often did, and he seemed to know just exactly the right places in her mouth to touch; the exact amount of pressure to apply; and the perfect motion to use to drive her mad with desire. This time was no exception.

His arms tightened around her in response to her pressing of her body against his. He had not yet removed his armor and for a fleeting moment, worried that she might hurt herself on the hard surface. But she kept pressing closer, as if she wished to meld her body with his and become one single form. He savored the feel of her in his arms and vowed he would never leave her again---even if she had to live in the field with him as he fought, he would not be parted from her. Others may object or question him, but he was not leaving his wife again. If they wanted him, they would accept her as well.

It felt so good to be held by Legolas. She felt safety and security and love within his embrace. Even the sharp edges of the armor he wore were comforting. His firm, hard-muscled, lithe body was heavenly and she wanted nothing more than to feel it against hers. But a part of her still hesitated; what if he found he could not touch her where she had been defiled? She pushed the doubt away and yielded to her husband’s questing mouth.

When their lips finally parted, he planted soft kisses down her throat, nipping lightly at the hollow where her pulse beat rapidly. He could tell by her quickened breathing she was aroused and yearned to join with her; but his heart told him to wait---let her indicate her desire first. Normally, they would have already been heading toward at least their first, if not second, climax by now. He always found it difficult to control himself when he was inside his wife.

His mouth moved down and he pulled the too-large tunic open where it was loosely laced at the neck, exposing one of her firm, full breasts. His tongue fluttered lightly from her throat to encircle the tip before teasing her already hard nipple. She moaned lightly and let her head drop back, closing her eyes as she relished the warm, moist feel of his mouth. His arms wrapped around her back, holding her to him, and she ran both hands through his hair and over his shoulders. He’d had millennia to perfect his technique and she silently thanked all of the one’s who’d come before her for letting him hone his skills on them so he would be perfection when he got to her.

When he moved his lips back, capturing hers, her bare breast pressed against the hard, sharp armor, she was overwhelmed by the exquisite torture and cried out her pleasure into his mouth. He swallowed her cries of delight and pressed her against him, his need evident and insistent. She reached down and her touch, brushing over his firmness, which was straining against the confines of his leggings, almost caused him to lose what thin control he still held. She swiftly unlaced him and was squeezing him firmly when they were both brought back to the present with a jolt.

“Forgive me, Legolas. I … did not know Alexandra was with you.” Aragorn’s voice held a note of embarrassment his friend had never heard before. Holding Alex against him so her naked breast would not be exposed and silently thanking the Valar that a table and his armor helped to hide his rampant member, Legolas managed to speak with a calm he did not feel.

“There is nothing to forgive, old friend. I should have come to you as soon as we cleared the field. If you could give us a moment … ?” he finished delicately.

“Of course.” The king of Gondor withdrew and fixed Elladan with a steely gaze.

“You could have warned me he was with his lady.”

His brother-in-law assumed a look of hurt surprise. “Surely, you must know that I would never have deliberately placed you in an embarrassing situation.”

Aragorn just shook his head and turned away. Eomer tried to hide his amusement, but was not as successful as the Elves who stood with them. Elrohir, Orophin, Rumil and Glorfindel maintained perfectly calm, straight faces, but they too, found the king’s embarrassment entertaining. It was not often King Elessar was seen to blush.

Legolas lifted the flap of the tent and indicated they should enter. He and Alexandra had managed to readjust their clothing into decent order and she stood off to one side, looking perfectly innocent and serene. She was not going to let her husband’s Elven dignity outshine her own. She found it interesting that Aragorn had trouble meeting her eyes when he greeted her. But then, she supposed, they had probably presented quite a picture.

Rumil and Eomer greeted her respectfully, but the twins were not as circumspect and she found their easy attitudes refreshing. Both hugged her enthusiastically and as if there were nothing odd about her sudden appearance in the midst of their war.

She accepted their embraces and Elrohir kissed her on the tip of her nose, giving Legolas an innocent smile.

The prince felt a sudden flare of jealousy, uncharacteristic of his normal reaction to the twins’ casual flirting with his wife. It had been going on since before their binding and had never bothered him at all since he and Alex joined, so he was surprised by its appearance. He saw that it did not seem to bother Alex and so he put his feelings away to examine later and answered his friend by rolling his eyes in mock-disgust.