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 journey through the swamp was slow and arduous and more than once a horse, an Elf or Alexandra found his or her foot had nothing on which to stand. The dark pools radiated into the surrounding land and often what appeared to be grassland was actually simply vegetation floating atop black water.

As darkness fell, they began to search for solid ground on which to camp for the night. The firm spots were few and far between, mainly being long and winding passageways through the dank waters. In the end, the group found they had to simply range out along the pathway single file, the ground not being wide enough for more than one horse and one rider to walk side by side.

Because of the odd nature of the path, they could see each other and often were just across a foul pool from one another. But getting around from one to the other was virtually impossible. Eating a bite of lembas each, they settled down to try to rest for the night, Legolas, Cunion and Elladan keeping watch.

Alexandra tried to sleep but something kept nagging at her. There was something wrong; something watching them and she could not relax. The others drifted into reverie and she tried to let herself ease enough to at least nap, but the thought that something was watching and waiting for the right moment to pounce would not allow any respite.

Time passed interminably and there was no sound, not even snorting from the horses, as if they too found the environment hostile and did not wish to call attention to themselves. The Elves keeping watch sensed a threat around them, but could see or hear nothing which seemed to put them at risk. The sky above was masked by the mist rising form the swamp and the stars and moon were obscured, keeping the entire area in shadow.

Gray pre-dawn eventually lightened the surroundings and the members of the party who had been able to sleep began to stir. Taking care not to stray far from the established path, they arose and readied their mounts for the day’s journey. Conversation was hushed and lembas was eaten quietly.

Orophin was in the lead, followed by Naveradir, the Lorien warden an unerring tracker and the Rhunian Elf the only one in the party who had made this journey before. Light steps tested each spot in the path before moving on so that those following, especially the horses, would be able to navigate the terrain in relative safety.

The sun had not yet risen and Orophin was leading the rest carefully. His senses were heightened and he kept his bow nocked even though there was no sign of any physical threat.

“It is much stronger than when last we were here,” Naveradir murmured quietly and Orophin nodded slowly.

“Indeed, the longer we are here, the more intense the feeling of being observed becomes,” the Lorien warden replied. He tested a spot of ground and found it was not at all firm, then began the painstaking process of searching for the solid part of the path that would lead them on. More than once they had been forced to backtrack when a split in the path had led them to a dead end. He and Naveradir tested all of the paths before leading the others onward.

The two Elves probed for solid ground and a sudden bubble rose in the mud covered pool next to the path, releasing a foul stench into the air.

“It smells of Orc farts,” Orophin muttered, his handsome features showing his revulsion.

“I have never smelled an Orc fart,” Naveradir replied, “and if this is what they smell like, I must say I am glad to have never had the experience before.”

Orophin smiled grimly and edged closer to what appeared to be a promising path. Without warning a tentacle-like appendage snapped out of the water and wrapped around his leg, pulling him to the ground and into the dark water.

Naveradir called out to the others and fired his bow at a long shape that he spied just below the surface. Whatever it was made a deep rumbling sound, somewhat like a cross between a growl and a shriek and another tentacle lashed out at the Rhunian Elf. Naveradir managed to jump just out of reach, and fired another arrow into the creature as Orophin broke the surface and gasped a lungful of air.

The others had managed to reach them and launched arrows toward the creature, but were afraid of hitting Orophin if the beast pulled him back under. Helcarin and Erestor circled around until they were close to where Orophin was struggling with the appendage that held him.

“It has a hard shell, like one of the Mirkwood Spiders,” he told them, “but it is flexible like a serpent. My dagger does nothing to it.” He could say no more as he was pulled under once again and the Elves were forced to refrain from firing at the creature as much as before for fear of hitting him.

Alexandra felt a surge of fury at the beast. Remembering how Orophin had gone into the waters of the icy river in Mordor when she had been thrown in by one of the werewolves attacking them, she gave no thought to what she had to do. Without hesitation she dove into the pool heedless of the shouts from her companions. She was beyond paying them any mind anyway.

Her enhanced vision could see the outline of the Elf---his warm body in the cold water was an easy trail to follow---as well as the thing which held him. It looked like a long, segmented worm with a pincer mouth and two long arms tipped in claws, one of which held Orophin underneath. The surface of the thing gleamed in the dim light seeping through the pool’s surface and indeed it looked as though it had a hard carapace covering it.

Several eye-stalks turned to look at her and they were filled with black, dull, but malevolent, eyes. She swam over to Orophin and grasped his body, pulling him upward to the surface so he could get air. At the same time, she dug her own claw-like nails between the apparently plated shells on the thing’s ‘arm’ and began to squeeze, hoping to force it to release him.

Legolas dropped his bow and dove into the pool, searching for the woman and the Elf. He spotted her trying to force the arm from around Orophin’s leg and went to join her. Pulling his dagger, he slid the point beneath one of the plated shells and pushed.

Orophin caught his breath as he broke the surface of the black, stinking water. Helcarin and Erestor caught hold of him and held him above the water, trying to help him pull away from the thing.

“It has hold of my leg and will not release it,” he told them.

The thing’s free arm swung around and snapped at both of Orophin’s companions in the water, hitting Alexandra in the back and landing a blow along Legolas’ shoulder. It jerked and pulled Orophin back down under the water, Erestor and Helcarin following him in.

Legolas held onto the creature and his dagger, not letting the beast get away from where he was driving the point into its more vulnerable flesh beneath the protective plates. Another of the rumbling cries echoed through the water and the Elf and his wife both managed to rise to the surface long enough to take deep breaths then went back down to continue to try and free Orophin’s leg.

Erestor and Helcarin added their daggers to the effort, finding the thin opening between the plates and pressing their daggers in as well.

With a roar, the creature swung its other arm around and jarred Orophin’s rescuers. Helcarin and Erestor managed to shake off the stunning blow and reach Orophin, pushing him upward toward the air where Haldir and Rumil caught him. He glanced up at his brothers with a grim smile.

“I wondered if you two were going to lend a hand,” he gasped.

“We are better shots than the others, with the exception of Legolas,” Rumil replied. “Our talents seemed best utilized in that arena.

Under the water, the three Elves worked their daggers beneath the protective plates and pushed hard, feeling the thing’s flesh start to give. It writhed and let out another roar of pain, using the pincers on its other arm to tear at them.

Alexandra let go of the thing’s arm and swam closer to the snapping maw then reached up and grabbed several of the eyestalks and ripped them from the thing’s head.

It shrieked and ceased trying to grab the Elves and at the same time their daggers pierced its flesh. Its arm suddenly drooped, letting go of Orophin as it recoiled in pain.

Orophin felt his leg suddenly released and his brothers pulled him out of the water. Cunion and Elrohir began to examine him for injury. He brushed them off.

“I am not injured, just angry,” he told them. His leg was sore where the beast had held so tightly but otherwise he felt fine.

Erestor and Legolas broke the water, coming up for air. They were followed shortly by Alexandra and Helcarin. As the four were hoisted from the water, Sarendir asked about the creature.

“It is quite angry,” Helcarin replied. The others reacted to his gross understatement with simple raised brows.

“I hope it will soon be dead,” Erestor added.

“It looked terminal when I saw it last,” his son replied.

“What was it?” Vanurion asked curiously.

Legolas shook his head. “I do not know. It looked like a worm with arms. It had multiple eyes standing up from its head on thin strips of flesh. It was quite unpleasant.”

Alexandra said nothing, watching the water. She could see the thing’s blood, a bluish-green liquid, seeping along the top of the black water.

“I wonder if there are more of them,” Elladan mused.

“I do not think we should wait to find out,” Saelbeth suggested.

Glorfindel nodded. “Let us get out of this place as quickly as we can.”

They once more began searching for the path through the swamp, leaving the pool behind with its surface completely covered by the thing’s blood. Alexandra kept looking back at it as they moved on. It had not been alone, she was certain. Just as they had swum to the surface, she had seen more arms in the depths of the pool reaching out to tear at the injured beast. Apparently they cannibalized their fallen.

“You must get out of your wet clothing,” Saelbeth murmured to his cousin’s wife. She looked at him sharply though his gaze remained serene.

“I’m fine,” she retorted.

“Need I remind you about your mishap a couple of years ago?”

She swore, then looked back at her husband’s cousin.

“I have nothing with which to bathe and I’m not putting on clean clothes with this stink on me.”

“You would rather die for the sake of vanity?”

“No! Now stop!” She hated being wet and dirty and cold though she had much experience with all three. Lately it seemed everything was designed specifically to drive her to distraction. Little things that she had always either endured or laughed off now irritated her to the point of anger or worse, tears. She glanced back at Saelbeth who continued to watch her with calm eyes and sighed.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m so unreasonable lately. You’re right, I know. I just don’t want to dirty what few clean clothes I have.”

“It will not be for long,” Legolas surprised her by saying from the other side of her mount. She had not noticed him listening to her conversation with Saelbeth. “Put on your cloak at least and we will wash your clothes and you when we get out of the swamp. Naveradir says it should only be another day or two.”

She sighed but did as bidden. She felt so filthy. That water had been black and the things that lived in it seemed to pollute it in her mind. It stank and the smell now permeated her hair, he clothes, her skin. She felt as though she would never be clean again.


***

Just when Alexandra thought she could bear no more of the wet and stink, they found themselves once more entering a snow-covered landscape and starting down the mountains. The snow did not seem to fall as harshly here as it had on the other side of the mountain range, a happenstance all found cheering.

“Let us find shelter so we may remove these clothes and bathe,” Helcarin suggested. He could see how miserable Legolas’ wife was becoming and took pity on her. Indeed, she, her husband, Orophin, Erestor and himself all stank though the others did not complain.

“Indeed,” Glorfindel added. “The horses need the rest.”

Orophin, Rumil, Elladan and Elrohir struck out ahead of the rest, scouting for a suitable location and in a thankfully short time returned, leading the others to a small cave that was conveniently protected from the worst of the snows by large rock formations in front of its entrance.

Snow was gathered to melt over a fire built from wood carried through the mountains as well as some remarkably dry sticks found inside their refuge. As the small pots were set over the blaze to let the snow turn to warm water, Legolas turned to his wife with a smile.

“You should bathe first. You are the most uncomfortable and as a mortal it is possible something in that water could irritate your flesh or make you ill.”

“If I haven’t gotten sick yet, I likely won’t,” she replied with a tired smile. “I won’t argue, though. I need to get out of these clothes.”

“Then by all means do so,” Elladan told her as he changed the bowls over the fire. “Do not hesitate on our account.”

She shot him a withering glance though the memory of seeing him with his brother and one of Aragorn’s maids almost brought a blush to her cheeks.

Saelbeth laughed softly. “I believe we should allow the lady a bit of privacy. She and Legolas can bathe while the rest of us gather more snow.”

Erestor nodded. “Come now; there is enough to get them started. Let us gather more.” He herded the younger Elves out of the cave as Legolas, who had stripped without thought, began to help Alexandra out of her stinking, stiff clothes.

“You will bathe first,” he told her, “so you may dress first. I care not who sees me bathe.” He took a small cake of the soap they had brought with them and quickly lathered her hair and body using a surprisingly small amount of water. Pouring warm water over her head to let it rinse her hair and body at the same time, he managed to have his wife clean using what water was available.

“What of you?” she asked as she wrapped in one of the blankets to dry herself. “There is not enough water left.”

“Why do you think we went to gather more?” Elrohir asked as he and Vanurion entered with a blanket they had filled with snow. Quickly dividing it between the bowls, there was soon enough water for Legolas to bathe as well as the others.

Alexandra remained wrapped in the blanket as she watched her husband, Erestor, Helcarin and Orophin quickly and efficiently clean themselves with their makeshift bathing bowls. Though she had grown somewhat accustomed to the casual Elven attitudes about bodies, she still averted her eyes from the ellyn as they bathed, focusing only on Legolas. Even though she had eyes only for her husband, she could not help but see the perfect forms of the others and felt, not for the first time, awe at their beauty.

Elven males were the most exquisite examples of masculinity she had ever seen, combining beauty, elegance and sheer power. They did not seem concerned with traditional symbols of virility such as those Men embraced and that made them all the more alluring---their supreme confidence. She lowered her gaze and focused on dressing beneath the blanket. She was not as shy as she once had been, but some ingrained habits were impossible to break.

The task was somewhat daunting and she swore intermittently under her breath as she tried to pull on leggings and hold the blanket. Just as she was about to give up she felt gentle hands on her shoulders, taking the blanket and holding it.

“Let me assist you,” Pomea’s voice spoke soothingly and Alexandra glanced at the elleth gratefully. She could see the dark green eyes twinkling a bit with amusement and shook her head.

“I know you think I am being silly about it, but my people were quite modest about some things.”

“You are not being silly at all,” the elleth responded. “In fact, it is charming to see modesty in a warrior.”

Alexandra finished fastening her tunic and Pomea dropped the blanket back into place so the woman could sit on it to put on her boots.

“What troubles you, my friend? I can see it in the way you hold yourself. Is there something you would rather speak about to another female?” Pomea glanced at the company of laughing ellyn who were talking amongst themselves.

The woman sighed as she sat on the blanket, gesturing to her friend to sit as well.

“I do not know what it is, Pomea. I have been terribly tired, emotional, easy to cry. I worry about things that once seemed inconsequential. I think about being a burden to my husband.” She looked into the elleth’s eyes, seeing sympathy and understanding reflected there. “I just don’t know what’s wrong with me or what to do about it.”

“Emotional and tired … you are not with child?”

Alexandra shook her head. “I cannot bear children. It seemed to start when we were at Goroth’s keep. Everything seems to bother me now.”

Pomea smiled and touched the woman’s hand.

“Goroth would drive anyone to despair. Do not be troubled. Your husband loves you and your friends love you. As a mortal, your life is too short to worry about the inevitable changes of life or things you cannot change. Simply enjoy every moment you are given.”

Alexandra laughed. “That is easy for you to say---you’re an Elf and you won’t die.”

A shadow passed over Pomea’s exquisite face.

“Elves die,” she murmured, then smiled again and stood. “Your husband may require some assistance dressing,” she told the woman with an unmistakable sparkle. “I will leave you to see to him and I will see to my own companion.”

Alex watched as Pomea slipped over to take the blanket from Helcarin and wrap them both in it, his arms going around the dark-haired elleth as they spoke softly, then kissed.

“It is good to see you smile,” Legolas said softly at her ear and the woman turned to her husband.

“You make me smile,” she told him as he pulled her into his arms, wrapping the blanket around them both as Helcarin had Pomea. She looked up into his serene, steel-blue eyes and saw his love for her reflected in them. Reaching up, she brushed her fingertips over his soft lips, his firm jaw, his smooth cheek, then entwined her fingers in his silky hair, already drying in the cool air.

Legolas lowered his lips to hers and kissed her tenderly, feeling his constant need for her flare. They had absolutely no privacy however, and he knew his wife would be mortified if he were to act on his desire. Instead they remained cocooned together for the remainder of the night simply enjoying one another’s warmth and presence.