AFTERWORD and "FOR EVERY EVIL 2" CHAPTER ONE

I. The Original Plots and Endings.
1. The fic started out as non-slash. It would have been what the teaser promised: "The War brought them together, but the peace will tear them apart. How much is a man willing to pay to keep a friendship, and how much is a friend willing to lose for revenge?" It's basically Legolas having lost his betrothed at the hands of the Easterlings, Aragorn in the middle of negotiating the peace and his best friend wanting them killed. Legolas gets caught, which puts Aragorn in the position of having to punish him, to show his fairness. So duty first, or friends first? Classic scenario.

I got as far as chapter six, before I realized first, that people lose their loves all the time, without going berserk. I want the character to be strong and credible. This means that tere has to be an added dimension, there has to be one other reason. This fic has been in the works for a really long time, was stuck in chapter six for like, a year, moving only until it dawned on me that it has a great potential to be a slash.

So here comes turning point number one: chapter seven gives us a hint that the revenge is not only about losing Lilian- it's about what Legolas paid to return to her (losing Aragorn), and only to find she died, and in the end he's left with nothing. It's kind of the same, but I was hoping the double-whammy, and the fate-playing-tricks-on-me gig should give him even more anger.

2. This fic was supposed to have more action/adventure. The feeling I originally set out to do was kind of like, a fun swashbuckler, like a summer film (we all know I've veered quite far from this, haha, I got stuck on the depressing drama genre again). Remember in Chapter Thirteen, and Nathaniel was talking about the legend of Darat? The original story never included Morgetti and his desire for revenge. The original story was supposed to be Elrohir and Nadina getting caught up not in the middle of a rebellion, but in the middle of the search for the Immortal Blood of Darat. That's the original purpose of Chapter Thirteen, to set the back story. In the end, though, I felt like putting them in the middle of the search should've been a different story altogether, so the search for the blood became just a backgrounder for Morgetti, and Nathaniel's storytelling just became a kind of, texturizer for the Sang-age people; I wanted them to feel alive, with culture, and stories, to give them a more familiar, human face.

3. Legolas was supposed to be blamed for the ambush of the wedding party. When the wedding party was unheard from and seemed to have just vanished after they were captured by Morgetti, the ever-suspicious Nathaniel turned the blame on Legolas, who was unaccounted for, being in his own kingdom speaking with his father. The setup for this storyline you might have seen in Chapter Ten, when Eomer speaks with Aragorn and Gimli about what Legolas has been doing:

"There are two ways that we can go about this. We want a treaty with the Easterlings, that is the end goal, am I correct?"

Aragorn nodded. "It is."

"Toward this treaty, " said Eomer, "We have to be able to gain their trust and their confidence, and show them our good will, not to mention our desire for a lasting bond. King Nathaniel proposes we seal the treaty with marriage, as is their tradition. They understand tenacity, and cunning, and victory in battle. They do not like Legolas, but they do not have to. He was their victor, and a warring race will readily embrace his displayed viciousness.

"But," said Eomer, with more difficulty, "they also understand blood. They understand justice. They know about Legolas' transgressions. The gods know he certainly did not bother with hiding his profound disdain for them. The way I see it, either Legolas seals the treaty by marrying Nadina, or he seals the treaty by accepting punishment for his crimes."

In short, treaty by marriage or treaty by punishment. When the wedding party vanished and Legolas was blamed, the treaty was still possible by punishing him. So he is arrested. And the elf, stung by Aragorn's decision and the mistrust on his tainted name, doesn't bother with discouraging their suspicions. As a matter of fact, he even courts their hate. This line of the story would have brought us to the classic scenario of duty first or friend first for Aragorn, which I've been wanting to use from the start.

I even wrote a scene, where Aragorn visits Legolas in prison, garbed not as a King but as a Ranger, willing him to escape. What is the significance of his clothes, you may ask? Well, in Interlude 8, Aragorn became the King to save Arwen, right? If I'd have continued writing this scene, it would have been that he'd given up the King to save Legolas. And then Legolas would refuse to leave, saying he's always wondered if the man could rise to the occasion if it was he who was dying instead, if he could lay down his crown, if he could give up everything. Satisfied that Aragorn loves him enough to do so, he shows his own love by staying, and by receiving the punishment. It might have been death, but as we know, I did not go down this road far enough to decide which.

4. Legolas and Nadina really were supposed to get married. This ending tickled me. I was in a naughty mood and wanted to spread the depression around, so I started conceptualizing around Legolas living, and getting married to Nadina, with whom Elrohir was unfortunately in love with. But well, I figured one couple not getting together is sad enough, so I shelved this one.

Legolas dying in this fic was a bit of a surprise to me. Actually, the scene just came to me, and it's how I work. I get inspired by scenes and I build stories around them, give characters the chance to say these kind-of "trailer"/quotable lines. In this fic, I was just really desperate to have Legolas say "I get to have you for the rest of my life," and he dies shortly afterward. As a matter of fact, I didn't think of killing him off until I posted Chapter Eighteen a few days ago. I did leave you guys a note to warn you I may end it in an unexpected manner. I suppose his death suddenly seemed merciful, toward the end. With Aragorn having a beautiful life with Arwen, Gimli hanging out with new friends, Lilian dead, his kin sailing, Nadina falling in love with Elrohir… it suddenly just clicked. Why not? He can have Aragorn for a little while, a very important while just before he dies, and then the guy gets to go back to his family. Kind of like a happy ending. In its distorted way!

II. On the Characters.
1. On Legolas. All right, so everyone knows he's my favorite. I thought a darker kind of Legolas would be exciting to write. I'm kind of adventurous with him. If you've read my works "For Every Evil," "Last Stand," "Exile" and "Tempus Edax Rerum" among others, you'd note that I've written him as a cop in Los Angeles, as terminally ill, as a fugitive wanted for murder, and as a time traveler of all things. I've been so demented that I forgot I haven't tried out one of the more classic routes- the very risky slash route. But I've tried crazier things, so, why not? And this is what came out.

Now, I'm not for really explicit stuff, I'm not that courageous. So I made the fall softer, kind of. And I'm straight-to-the bone, so I desperately avoided a kind of, feminine depiction because I wanted the character to still be appealing to women like me. I wanted the character to be masculine, incidentally finding love in another man, but hardly effeminate. The body was incidental, he even once loved a woman.

Here, you can probably suddenly see that "Love, War" became not just my slash experiment, but I found myself regarding it as my statement on, well, Love. In it, I attempted to answer the part that a body plays on love, the part that belongs to the flesh. And then how does one know if one's in love, etc., etc. The answers are in Interludes 4 and 7: The body is almost like a prison, death is our forced freedom from it and love is the kind that we choose, you know you've loved if they own your most memorable pasts and your foreseeable future, when you realize you've decided you're incomplete after all. The legend Aragorn talks about with the gods separating bodies is a real one, by the way. I just forget from where haha.

So there are several key dimensions to this characterization. The slash dimension is discussed above. The other is the vengeance dimension.

Did he have enough grief to make his actions believable? As I said, he lost both his loves and felt like life made a mockery out of his freedom and his decisions. So, we have an angry guy with a history of loss (his mother too). He starts out really ferocious, without hesitation, without regret. One of my favorite nuances is actually when in Chapter One, he even wipes his knife with his dead enemy's cloak. I wanted readers to see, right at the very onset, almost a stranger. Who is this guy, he's not the Leggy we know! And then to look into the rest of the story to see how he turned out that way. And then of course, classic foreshadowing, Legolas gets his warning from his enemy in chapter three: All that is truly grave and tragic begins with vengeance.

The third dimension is the redemption dimension. How can one who's been so corrupted by his anger change? It starts with Mikael, who tells him he's wrong. And then there is Eomer, who even fights him by the sword. And then, there is Nathaniel, who tells him it is not an honor to fight. These are all little dents I bring to that amor of confidence that he is right. The fiercer little bites come from his love of Aragorn and Legolas' desire to give him peace, and then the coup de grace comes from his own father, who tells him he has more anger than loss. And then, just to reinforce the idea that he made the right decision to change, he sees the manman Morgetti and is happy he isn't like that.

The thing with key dimensions is that every single one had to believable, every single one had to be backed up by "proof," or instances in the story that show why they are like that. I hope I succeeded in making them feel whole, and natural, that all the events that happened to the characters logically brought them to that point of their personalities.

2. On Aragorn. I like the idea of giving this guy fear and doubt, because he's just so… strong, you know. Classic hero, even right down to his to-be-or-not-to-be moments. As you may have seen in the Interludes, he was not shy nor heristant about his love. But in Chapter 12 and 15, he does begin to wonder if he's made a mistake in his choices. He's not regretful, of course. I didn't want him to be, it did not feel right that I should depict that he simply settled for less, when he had a son he loved dearly and a wife he'd die for. So I just wanted him to think on how much his present situation cost him and Legolas. To know it was high, but not to regret because it was a beautiful life too. Because I like a complex Legolas, I gave him three key dimensions, right? I have several dimensions for Aragorn too. First, is the Family Man, which I explained above. In short, no regrets and no betrayals. He's made his choice. He'll stick with it.

The other dimension is The King. What it meant when he took up his sword in Interlude 8, what it meant to make a treaty, what it meant for him as a King and a lover when he asked Legolas to marry an Easterling. I hope all these came together decently.

3. On Gimli. Oh, a very, very hard character to write for me in "Love, War." I focused on one dimension of his character here, and that is Gimli-without-Aragorn-and-Legolas. If you noticed, all the friendly banter that was often highlighted between Gimli and Legolas hadn't been focused on; they were just backgrounders to show you they're friends. With respect to the character, the real focus was how does Gimli of the Three Hunters cope with being the third-wheel guy? I felt it was impossible not to reflect on what the union of Aragorn and Legolas could mean to the third hunter. My answer is that he shows them his own brand of love and understanding by giving them space. He's so brash, but when it comes to the relationship of the two he says nothing. When they need room, he willingly gives it and takes no offense, knowing they have precious little time. So aside from how he deals with the couple, of course I don't want him to be spectacularly lonely so I get him to interact with others too- with Eowyn, with Haldir and the Easterlings. In short, it was indeed a Gimli-without-Aragorn-and-Legolas, and I hope that the depiction is very fair to him.

4. On Eomer. He's so much fun to write although I must admit, I kind of had him fade in the background, toward the end. Originally he wasn't even supposed to be in the story, and the guy Legolas duels with in Chapter Six was written as Aragorn. But he kind of just came alive for me; it seemed fitting that Legolas' mistakes will be pointed out to him not only by Aragorn and Gimli, but also by other people, to give it more validity and believability. I also liked having him interact with Legolas and Aragorn, because in this fic, Aragorn was torn between two archetypes- the lover and the King. Legolas represented the lures of the former, and Eomer represented the need for the other. There had to be a tension between what he wanted and what he had to do. I felt that the conflict could be illustrated by showing a purely Kingly character, like the objectivity Eomer displays when he talks to Gimli and Aragorn about Legolas' crimes. Eomer then served in this story as the objective back-step- both for Legolas to see his actions are wrong, and for Aragorn to see that Legolas must be punished. Once that was accomplished, he faded into the background. To me, all characters must have a purpose and once that is fulfilled, they gradually just take a step back.

5. On Elrohir. Everytime I decide to put him into a fic, I keep getting into this party-time! mindset. He's so much fun to me and I keep saying, there isn't much on them in the actual Tolkien works but fanfiction made them alive and textured to me, something I hope I can also impart to others as other writers have done for me. As I've also said in my other afterwords, he's depicted as the more exciting twin probably only because of his naughty-sounding name. "Elladan" sounds more sublime, and "Elrohir" is the kind of name mothers like shouting out loud and scolding, haha. So, so. Elrohir falls in love. I wanted these scenes to be fun, with the typical romantic-comedy slant. But I also did not want it to be explicit; female OC's are generally regarded as threatening and annoying, so I was very careful with him and Nadina. Even at the end of the story, nothing is expressly said between them, which is to me, more realistic. They can't get together immediately after Legolas' death… besides, they haven't even formally acknowledged their attraction. I just decided on an open ending in this regard, because it gives the story kind of like, a greater life, more texture in that it creates possibilities.

6. Adriano. Fiery young OC Adriano. He grows up in this story, more than anyone else. His journey is actually one that is supposed to mirror the journey of the reader of this story, once again employing my favorite technique of the medium being the message. How does it mirror the journey of the reader? Well, phase one is meeting Legolas, and we are appalled by his actions. Phase two, we learn why he is the way he is, and we understand when we are given our own pains and we resort to succumbing to the same anger. Phase three, is realization and redemption. So Adriano's story is like the microcosm of the entire story's themes. I hope his depiction was at the very least, tolerable. OC's are so risky, and I try to be careful but I'm sure it doesn't always work 100 of the time.

III. The Major Themes.
I suppose by now we can say there are clearly three. Love, War and Vengeance. On Love, you guys can look to my comments above. As for War, I'm sure you've seen that from the various perspectives of the characters, as well as their back stories, the main message is why are we fighting, we are all more alike than we think. I guess this can be best encased by the lyrics of a song from Disney's Hunchback of Notre Dame called "Someday:" 'I pray for something better, it's the one thing we all share.' Or something like that. An example is from Chapter Fifteen:

"What are your people like?" Jaron asks Elrohir.

"People everywhere are just… people," Elrohir answered, "We all just try to make a beautiful life for ourselves the only ways we know how. Some of us go to war. Some of us plant trees and flowers. Some of us write poetry and music. We are more alike than we think."

"You fought in the war?" Jaron asked.

"Yes," answered Elrohir, "I have."

"Have you ever killed any of us?" the youth pressed, after a moment of contemplating if he was first, overstepping his bounds and second, tackling a subject he'd rather not get into in afterthought.

"Yes," the elf said simply, "I have done that too."

Jaron stared at him a long, quiet moment. "My father and brothers died in the war."

"I'm very sorry for that," Elrohir said, wondering if the lad was seeking an apology.

"They must have tried to kill you too," Jaron said, "It is just war, I suppose. I'm glad it's going to end."

And then in Chapter Seventeen:

The old soldiers grinned at each other, almost manically. The wars made curious comrades of all her soldiers, from all her sides. They shared the same, lethal fates, the same crimes, the same determination. How late it is that they were all learning they were more alike than different. Haldir prayed that just as this realization was made, it will not end in death for those enlightened. The men were great soldiers, and even better people.

And then in Chapter Twenty:

Legolas' eyes narrowed as he watched the approach of Morgetti and his army. He was confident of their ultimate victory, of course, he just didn't know how much it would cost. Coming from the desperate desires of his vengeance not too long ago, he knew full-well that there was very little logical arguing with one's broken heart. When one could finally answer, What would it be like, to wake from sleeping and dreaming and instead live out all these desires? To live a dream? His heart once longed to kill those who wronged him, just as much as Morgetti desired to reclaim his lost kingdom.

We are alike, he thought toward the rebel leader bearing his House's colors proudly, You and I, and all of us surrounding. We all pray for a better world, except we cannot seem to get around it. I let my anger consume me for too long. How far will yours take you?

That was my message regarding war. It's essentially tolerance, and the realization of our similarities rather than our differences. This is why I put such a face on the Easterlings. I knew the OC's can be a turn-off, and they are really risky in terms of keeping an audience attentive. But they needed names and faces, if I wanted to spread that particular message across.

As for vengeance, my stance is as I've also described in the comments above. At the start of the fic and at its end, the theme is encased in Nicolo's words:

Let me teach you one final thing, dear prince. All that is truly grave and tragic begins not with death and killing, which is a given as long as there is life, especially in times of war. All that is truly grave and truly tragic begins with vengeance.

And then it keeps recurring- to Legolas, Adriano and Morgetti, specifically. The vengeance thme is kind of like an offshoot to the love/war topic. Love brings us to do things like war sometimes, and then when we get hurt, it can easily go toward the vengeance route. I keep thinking of some of the longer wars that have raged out in the real world, all these inherited wars. Is there a way out? And then Adriano thinks on this too:

Vengeance… It made everything seem unending. It made Legolas of Mirkwood kill. It made all those who loved them want to kill the elf back. It made Morgetti want to kill Nathaniel and reclaim the Sang-age. Where vengeance began no one could know. But everyone had to know that this ridiculous ride could end with them.

We are almost at peace, he thought achingly, I wish it for myself, just as I find I wish it for those I once knew only to be foes.

The point? It's been raging forever, but it can end with me.

IV. The Structure.
I had a bit of a time with the structuring of this story… it justy offended by obsessive compulsions in terms of numbers, but well, I tried. Notice that the story is first divided into parts- (1) Those Lost, (2) Possibilitis, (3) Roads and (4) Endings. Within these parts are chapters and interludes. I needed to do this to concentrate of like, a particular subject matter for every part.

For instance, in "Part One: Those Lost," the big idea is, well, lost people. All the interludes are from FOTR, where Gandalf and Boromir fell. Besides the interludes, in "Those Lost" we also begin to have an idea that Legolas lost Aragorn and Lilian, Eomer was losing sight of the elf he thought was a friend, and Legolas is loosing himself.

In "Part Two: Possibilities," the big idea is, plainly said, what-could-be's. All the interludes are set around TTT, where we are shown all the things that could happen, making us wonder where is everyone going, so many things can happen, where will this go? Particularly, this is the part where the interludes showed a growth in the relationship of Aragorn and Legolas, showed that they could possibly get together. In the present-timeline, it also showed the possibilities of Legolas and the Eastern princess.

In "Part Three: Roads," we see how the paths of people have diverged. In the interludes (all set in ROTK, of course), we see that Legolas and Aragorn will part upon taking a literal road- the Paths of the Dead. We also see Elrohir, Haldir and Gimli going to the East, Legolas going to Eryn Lasgalen and Eomer, Elladan and Aragorn headed for Gondor.

In "Part Four: Endings," there are no more interludes. It's almost as if the present timeline events from parts one to three have become the quasi-interludes of part four. We see that people are trying to remember each other, trying to remember all the things that have been said before, what they learned along the road they've traveled. So, there. I don't think it's very apparent, but as a writer I kind of need the 'parts' cut along with the 'chapters' cut to provide some order in my thoughts.

V. Some Disclaimers.
Aside from its slow movement until my slash decision, I feared posting this fic because it delves in the East a lot- in terms of characters, cultures, geography. There's very little canon on this, so I knew I had to built up an annex of Middle-Earth, almost. The danger here is that it might feel misplaced, disjointed. Like attaching planet mars into Tolkien's universe, for instance. I did not want the world to feel unrealistic, I wanted so much for it to feel like an actual part of M-E. So I suppose what I'm trying to say is excuse the inconsistencies, haha. I really had to grope in the dark for this one. I was like, I can't even make up authentic sounding Elvish names, how in the world could I come up with a realistic, textured Eastern culture? So of course I just drew on a mixture of Eastern cultures to come up with them, made up my own legends, anything to make them feel less 2-D. I hope it worked, haha.
VI. Some Suggested Mood Music…

When I write, I have to have music on. So if you guys want to have an idea of the sound that set the mood of this very depressing little piece, turn to old-school folk acoustic- it's earthy, quiet and pensive, which is the mood I'm trying to create in this piece.

Particularly, I looked toward Alison Krauss' "Moments Like This," "Mystery" by the Indigo Girls, "Smoke and Ashes" by Tracy Chapman and most importantly, "Wild Horses" by the Rolling Stones. I also looked to the ever dependable "Fields of Gold" by Sting, which was the inspiration behind my other story Last Stand also. Lastly, I loved the words of "Put Your Arms Around Me" by Texas and "No More I Love You's" by Annie Lennoxwhich isn't folksy but it's just as good, and the sound is as haunting as the stuff from the LOTR soundtracks.

I loved the sounds, but also looked to the words, they're like good poetry that is still comprehensible, haha. I was for instance, inspired by some of the lines below, just to name a very few:

From "Moments Like This:"

Hold me

Whisper gently this is what we live for

How we learn who we are

It defines us

Ever reminding us that life never is more precious than this.

From "Mystery:"

What is love then is it dictated or chosen

Does it sing like the hymns of a thousand years

Or is it just pop emotion

And if it ever was here and it left

Does it mean it was never true

And to exist it must elude

Is that why i think these things of you?

From "Wild Horses:"

I know I dreamed you a sin and a lie

I have my freedom but I don't have much time

Faith has been broken

Tears must be cried

Let's do some living after we die

Wild horses couldn't drag me away

Wild, wild horses

We'll ride them someday

From "Put Your Arms Around Me:"

So put your arms around me

You let me believe that you were someone else

Cause only time can take you

So let me believe that I am someone else

From "No More I Love You's:"


No more i love you's
The language is leaving me
No more i love you's
The language is leaving me in silence
No more i love you's
Changes are shifting outside the words

I don't know if you guys like listening to those soundtracks that come after the movies, but I sure do. So if you want to see where this fic is coming from, or just wanna hear some smashing songs, look them up, they're incredible!

VII. Reviewer Responses and Thanks.
To abernaith: based on your reviews, I can see that you must be a very passionate person… not only in your request for blazing love and expression of approval of fast, consuming passions but also in your fiery analogies. I love your diction, and I am really very thankful for your helpful reviews. Keep on blazin, hon:)

To am: thank you so much for your incredible support. You were there reading and reviewing almost every step of the way, and for a fic as unpopular as this one (especially coming from "For Every Evil"), every single letter of your thoughts counted. I suppose you should be a little irked at me because all I gave you in return was your tears, haha. But I really hope you enjoyed the ride :)

To Aranna Undomiel: Thank you so much for your insightful comments. And you're right, haha, I do tend toward the heavily philosophical. I suppose that's because I really have no experience in this slash thing so I try to internalize and then form an opinion. I'm so glad that you appreciated my depiction of legolas, eomer… I really work hard on representing borrowed characters fairly, and in a manner that is still very familiar to the readers who love them :) as for the OC's, thanks so much for taking the time to know them. I had a lot of hesitations coming up with a believable set of Eastern characters and an Eastern culture. I hope it came across and thank you so much for your time :)

To Beth, Ella-Elbereth Mystic23: Thank you for taking the time out to give my story a chance despite the fact that slash isn't really your thing. I know it's always a gamble, like you're always thinking you spent this much time reading it and then it turns sour in one point and you may feel like your time is wasted. I hope I didn't give you that experience, and that the story and characters that grabbed you at the start despite the slash element held strong throughout the rest of the fic :)

To The Cheese Turkey: Wow, thank you so much for taking the time to read my fic, even though its not usually your cup of tea. I'm so glad also that you think the quotables in this story are nice… When I work, I get inspired by scenes or conversations that pop into my head and I build a tale around that, so I guess that's why you find some lines nice. I mentally dub them the 'trailer lines,' or like, those phrases that have a ring to them so they're put in movie trailers haha.

To Child of the Golden Leaves: Thank you so so much for taking the time to read and review. I know that I confused you a whole lot down the line, I just hope it cleared up toward the end. Anyway if you have any questions, please e-mail me at :)

To Ciryaquen: oh my, haha, when I read the first parts of your review I thought you were mad at me, haha. But you're right, I suppose, in that leggy was the sacrificial lamb in this bit- in his life, even in his death which was also useful in the sense that Aragorn can be with arwen, elrohir with nadina, the treaty solidified, teach people forgiveness, end the war, etc., etc., etc. I think it's also right to expect from Aragorn as you do because indeed, love is supposed to go both ways. But I guess the only way I can think to salvage this for you is the belief that loving is giving and giving should be enough. As leggy tells his father in chapter fifteen, let the privileges be yours but let the giving be mine. Let my reasons be mine. So in a way, in his giving, he took the most also. Or I guess I'm trying not to seem like I really deprived the poor elf, haha. Anyway, thanks for the praise and for reading :)

To Dragonfly: Ack! I'm so sorry for doubly upsetting you with slash and death. These elements in particular are very very tricky and I can only hope that you don't feel I wasted your time, and don't feel that these turns had no place in the development of the story (I personally hate stories like that, where some things seem to happen just because the author felt like it or what- I firmly believe that everything in a story should have purpose, and I hope you saw the purpose of these two turns in my story). Anyway, thanks so much for reading and reviewing despite the upset, I know also that you were hesitant with going down the dark slash road so thank you for the faith :)

To Eathlin: Thanks for going down this experimental route with me… it is my first time writing lotr slash as you said it is yours reading it. Thanks for the trust and the companionship, haha :) I hope you found the experience interesting (or bearable, at the very least haha) :)

To EJ: oh wow, thanks for the comments. I really do try my best with the characters so I'm just so so happy that it translates. Thanks for the time you took for "Love, War" and my other stories. And no, you're not just grasping at straws. We do both believe that love is hard enough to find and fight for for hetero's, much more for others who have even greater constraints posed on them by society. I'm so glad it came across in my work, and I hope that a lot more other people get to see this the way we do, so we'd have more tolerance in the world :)

To Elessar-Lover: Your generosity is always a wonder to me. I know you were very very wary at the start, and kept up your disapproval of slash althroughout the story. But you were always there reviewing every single part- which was always a sign to me that you're very giving not only with your time to read, the time to review, but you also gave my story the time you could have used to do other things that you believed in more. I'm just really very very happy that I have a reader like you to back me up in all my strange creative forays. Your time is appreciated to an extent that I cannot begin to explain, especially since you gave it in spite of the difference in our views. A great big thanks to you, and I hope I did not disappoint your faith :) hugs!

To Laer4572: Thank you so much for always always always making the time to read and review. I'm just glad that I managed to give you some of your time's worth in that you appreciated my characterizations of leggy, nathaniel, gimli and the interludes as well. I'm so so so appreciative of the time you put in to read and review. You were there every step of the way and I always look forward to hear from you. Oh and by the way, you guessed right. I do take cookies for bribes, thank you for asking haha, so we can get the word out there and people just might gimme cookies haha :)

To lo: Oh, no, I'm sorry. My homepage isn't linked because I don't have one! No knowledge to make one, no time to keep it updated, all that. Basically my fics are just in and hosted in a few other sites hosted by people who e-mailed me to ask if they could. I'm also happy that you're interested in said non-exsistent homepage, sov sorry to disappoint. Thanks also for appreciating my chosen slow-burn slash flow. I also don't like the jump-right-in variety :)

To May: Aaaah, very very interesting and perceptive questions you have here. I can see how a seasoned slash reader could see through all my inexperience, haha, and I'm very thankful that you did take the time to read and to review despite the feeling of being slightly short-changed :) So before I answer any of your questions, I want to say right off the bat that I'm really very grateful for your time. I'm even more grateful for your insightfulness and the careful thought you gave my fic. I'm not particularly a believer in slash. But more than that could ever be, I do, however, have a great believe in love, in all its forms- the slash angle is as incidental to me as the body is incidental to the loving soul (many would beg to disagree of course). As you may have read in my notes above, this story somehow mutated into my statement regarding love and I guess I'm not used to writing slash as you've noted, so I'm not quite equipped yet with the translation of my beliefs (especially also since I do not read slash lotr fics also) just yet. But I will try to improve, should I get inspired again by this tack. Thanks so much and I hope I'll still hear from you then, haha :)

To Orlandochick05: Thanks so so so much for your constant reviews, they really really keep me going :) I'm so sorry the geography confused you, I just hope you didn't find the confusion too detrimental to the rest of the fic. This story is also a stand-alone from my others. Basically, Exile-Escape-Return is one arc, and Allies-Ghost of Imladris-Sacred Betrayal is another arc. I don't have any other arcs, everything else stands apart from everything else. And lastly, your fabulous quip that leggy should just marry the girl and 'take lots of business trips' really cracked me up, haha. It's so clever and practical. I'm sure anyone in that situation would think so also :) thanks again:)

To Partheon: thanks for the very astute review. You're right, I do have pov troubles at times. But I'm just so happy that you appreciated the other elements of my story- characters both original and borrowed, and the dialogue. I really try my best to make the depuctions realistic and fair, and I want the dialogue to be memorable. I really work hard and I'm so glad it comes across and I'm even happier that you'd take the time to read and review :)

To Platy: As always, I love your vivacity :) thanks so much for reading and reviewing despite all your real-life commitments. I hope your two 10-page papers went well and that my story isn't detrimental to your studies, haha. Huggles to you and hope you'll join me also in my next efforts:)

To Princessdza: modern tolkien? Oh wow, you really really floored me with that one. Thank you so much for taking the time to read and to say so :) I hope the rest of the story didn't disappoint :)

To Zerah: You're really really very perceptive :) I enjoy reading your reviews, you really stun me by pointing toward the nuances I thought that only I can see, and I thought I put there only for personal satisfaction. For instance, in fee2 you're right… I was toying with the idea of elrohir and the waitress even if their encounter in fee1 had been short and shallow, haha. Arwen's "I'm jealous of you" in this fic was also very much a literary device, just a little jolt to make leggy squirm. to me, she really is clueless about the love affair, but of course even as the writer I'm unsure, and we can all always speculate :) And you're right, I do plan my stories a lot… I like order, I like structure, I like purpose. If something happens, if a line is said, it will be useful down the line. As for precocious little Dorjan… you're right also, in that he's there to kind of shake things up a bit, this man-boy. I like to think of him as one of those children from places like Palestine, these kids who grew up amidst war, with these haunted eyes. There is something all at once young and old about them. I figured if we're talking about Tolkien's ever-warring East, we have to delve into that kind of culture and its consequences on kids. The most accessible kind to draw from is the maturity of our own children from still relatively unstable places. So there. I'm so glad you can see these things :) Thanks so much :)

To Alatariel Narmolanya, Christine, Donarouie, The Drinking Game, Elveneyes, Eyes of the Sky, Hyper-Health-Critic, Kirsten Z, Kitty, Lady Lunas, Mischa Kitsune, Nessa Ar-Feiniel, Ninthwraith, Rougish Smile, Sesshyangel, Silwyth, Templa Otmena, Tobias 145 and Zublefir: THANKS SO MUCH to you guys also for taking the time to read and especially to review. Every single one counts especially for experimental (at least to me) and unpopular fics like this one so I'm deathly grateful. I hope "Love, War" didn't disappoint you guys, and I hope it captured you enough to want to see my other upcoming stuff as well. THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU… I can't seem to say it enough :) If ever I forget anybody, please kick me because I really really really wanted to mention everyone because you all mean a lot to me… I even made an excel worksheet so I can make sustematic reviews addressing issues and saying thanks. THANKS THANKS THANKS :)

To Dolphingurl678, EJ, Joee1, Pellawethiel and Stoneage Woman: all right you guys, you asked for FEE 2, so I hope this little preview tides you over for a little while as I work on it :)

VIII. My Next Project.
Okay, some of my older readers may be happy to hear I really really am hard at work on the sequel to "For Every Evil," simply called "For Every Evil 2." I'll give you a preview, but remember this is hardly final so don't take it as the official chapter one:

Author: Mirrordance

Title: For Every Evil, 2

Summary: For every evil that rises, we are given ways to fight it. It's 2005, and Legolas and his reclaimed, resurrected friends come together yet again to fight a faceless, all too-modern foe: bioterrorism.

" " "

1: Antiques 2

" " "

Kinshasa Highway, Zaire

Western Africa

Early 2005

" " "

Some have claimed that these organisms were the truest, oldest inhabitants of the Earth. No one knows how they came to be, or from where. They simple were, as far as we know.

These organisms are some of this aged land's grandest mysteries, and also unfortunately some of its most vicious killers. They were predators of the best kind—once they bit into you, you were as good as dead. Many, certainly, have died of catching them. Or perhaps… these organisms- these viruses- weren't ones you caught, like a common cold. These viruses caught you. Killed you. Devoured you.

Darwin once said that in this world, the fittest will survive. These killers hunted so well, and seemed to have no natural predator, or any discovered cure against them either. They can devour humanity. It seems only a miracle that they have not, at least, not just yet.

Brad Greer, who once was known as Boromir of Gondor some countless years ago, mused on such things as he walked about the infamous paved, concrete road called the Kinshasa Highway in Zaire, known in certain circles as the AIDS Highway.

Why it looks just like any other road, he decided. But then a little thing called the Ring of Power looked just like any other ring too. And what havoc it wrought!

"Amazing, isn't it?"

Brad looked to the woman beside him, Dr. Chandra Bouvier, an older female colleague. Her voice was rough and heady with her French accent, a voice that matched her weathered smile. She must have been a looker back in the day, still was as a matter of fact, but she had the bad habit of constantly looking after him along the course of their trip in a manner that was so motherly it was killing any finer fantasies.

"Sure is," Brad agreed.

"I know it's your first time here," she said to him authoritatively, "But you have to trust me when I say it never dies. The… how do you say…"

"Awe?" Brad finished for her.

"Yes," she smiled again, "It never dies."

"Over the frigging highway?" he asked.

"Africa," she said to him primly, as if it should have been plain, "In general. But Kinshasa too, sure."

Their convoy of 3 Land Rovers was pulled up along the side of the road. The bevy of intellectual passengers felt the need to stop along the highway and mull over how it may have changed the face of the world, pilgrimage-style. The party of travelers made for a group of twelve, most of them doctors.

Chandra was a French expatriate who was more a local than a foreigner. Africa was home to her, and she was a practitioner in Nairobi. Her Swahili was far better than her heavily accented English, and she spoke it comfortably with their local drivers and guides. The rest of the party comprised of Americans like Brad, and also like him, they were part of the Centers for Disease Control, having flown all the way from Atlanta, Georgia to Africa for an AIDS survey.

A delivery truck of miscellaneous fruits and vegetables passed them by. It was not a rare sight per se, but their eyes trailed the truck until it was far out of sight.

Kinshasa Highway did indeed look like most types of road. It cleaved across Africa, West to East. It crossed desserts and rain forests, and like most infrastructure, a telling sign of development. But as in all environments all over the world, it infringed on nature too, pressed persistently straight into its virgin heart.

The telling signs that humans were cutting too quickly and too deeply into territory that belonged to someone else was spread across the world. In Florida, people sometimes found crocodiles in their swimming pools. In California, mountain lions in their yards. In Africa, diseases made their leaps into the human population.

AIDS, for instance, was hypothesized as having come from an African primate who made his home in the rain forest. Perhaps a man was bitten. Or he hunted and ate monkey meat, a local delicacy. Or got bitten by a tick. Either way, AIDS broke into the human race. How it may have spread, gave Kinshasa its "AIDS Highway" nickname.

"It's more of an urban legend, actually," Chandra said, knowing that she and Brad were both thinking along the same lines, "But still. The numbers are compelling."

As the Highway brought in growth and development, towns sprouted along its length here and there. And then lone travelers and particularly, truckers and enterprising women and sex workers had their way with each other. And then from catching AIDS from the rainforests through which the Kinshasa Highway cut, it made its way from man to woman, to her next man, to his next woman, to the children she would have, to their spouses, and their children after them… it was an exponential nightmare. And then years later, millions of people around the world were dead.

And it looks like any other road, Brad thought again. He took a snap with his digital camera, a photo of the length of the road lined by trees that led into thicker forests, and snatches of homes.

"What is amazing too," added Chandra, "Is the relative kindness of our punishment for infringing here."

"Kindness?" Brad murmured distractedly, as he took more pictures.

"Some diseases that originate from here work much faster and much more brutally than AIDS," she replied, taking his camera from him and waving at him to strike a pose of Indiana-Jones spirit as she took his photograph, "Ebola breakout in the 70's. I was here during that debacle. Ten-day killer, 90 of the time. I burned corpses of many friends, though they looked like monsters and they felt like moldy water by then. They screamed and they cried and they shook and they bled. I promise you're going to be asking God 'Why.'"

She returned the camera to him and he looked at the photograph. She was apparently very lousy at it, and half of his face was cut off. He deleted it but said nothing.

"Were you scared?" he asked.

"I wasn't fool enough not to be," she said grimly, "Time and again you tell yourself to run. Get away. Leave them."

"And the other times?" he asked.

"And then you remember you're a doctor," she replied.

"And then you stay," he finished.

"You are indeed one of us, Greer," she said, approving.

"I'm just a lab guy," he corrected her.

"Close enough," she shrugged.

Another truck passed them by, and as in the one before, their eyes trailed after it. It slowed as it neared them, and then sped up again. The face of the lone driver was a very memorable one by most standards. He had a shock of red hair that covered one eye, and the rest of his mane was an even less natural cherry-blond, given that his face had a more Asian look to it. He vanished down the road.

"Tourist," Chandra said with a shrug, dismissively, as if she had not ever been one herself. "Here comes more," she said, nodding toward an approaching yellow Land Rover. It slowed too as it neared their convoy, and to Brad's complete and utter surprise, a familiar blonde head popped out from the shade of the truck.

Interpol Agent Horace Harding, as Haldir of Lothlorien was going by these days, looked as stunned as he, and they blinked at each other for a long moment.

"Boromir!" came the jovial voice of the ex-dwarf from Harding's passenger seat. Jimmy Goran was more openly joyous at the sight of Brad.

"Jimmy," Brad waved at Gimli, pointedly using his 'modern' name. "Heya, Harding," he nodded to Haldir.

"You folk need help?" Haldir asked him.

"Oh no," replied Brad, "We just stopped by to look around."

Haldir glanced at Brad's traveling companions. "I have heard of a CDC survey team dropping by. I didn't know you'd be amongst them."

"Oh, didn't Leland tell you?" Brad asked, "I got a spiffy job offer from them some months ago."

"We've been away from the country," Harding replied cryptically.

"So what brings you two out here?" asked Brad, "Business or pleasure?"

"What else brings us anywhere," grumbled Jimmy.

"We must go," said Harding, "We're staying at the Mount Elgon Lodge. Come by if you're in the area."

"I don't know," said Brad with a nervous laugh, "I'm kind of like a low-ranking dog here, they just tell me what to do. And to think I got out of LA to keep Aragorn from bossing me around, ha. And besides," he added wryly, "Last time I got into a row with the two of you, I didn't come out so pretty."

"Well old friend," said Jimmy, "You learn quicker than I. I should have known I'd get into straits when the damned elf asked me for a job as his partner."

Brad reached over and shook both their hands warmly. "Be careful, guys. I will see you soon."

He watched the truck vanish into the distance, and the just smiled as the baffled Dr. Bouvier beside him asked, "Did that fellow there say something about elves?"

" " "

Imladris,

Vienna, Austria

" " "

There was a saying he heard from somewhere some time ago. It's said that if you want to know how a woman will age, go have a look at the mother, and then see if you still wanted to spend the rest of your life with her. Elladan was finding that the saying had a remarkable ring of truth to it.

His long legs were stretched before him as he rebelliously slouched in what last he checked was his living room, until closer inspection made him realize that it had in fact already been taken over by hostile forces.

Rivendell, he feared, had been taken by the enemy at last, taken by a betrayal from within. Anatalia Craxi, the love of his eternal life, her mother Giovanna and The Wedding Planner have laid siege to fair Imladris, and it was captive in their demented, collective imagination.

"Citrine," the two women and the effeminate man breathed, triumphant, as if they've suddenly come to a wild, world-altering revelation after a rather lengthy and confusing debate that shifted from English to Italian and then back again and over again. And then, as if in a nightmare, they all turned and looked at him with their eyes alight, expecting he was still abreast of what they were talking about.

Elladan smiled at them beatifically. Oh if he didn't love her so much he'd have been out that door fifty years ago…

"Excuse me?" he murmured in reply. He's never been known for inattention, but this was ridiculous. He was surprised they could even understand each other.

Anatalia and her mother rolled their eyes at him, the former muttering he was just like her father, at the same time that Giovanna said the same of her husband. In that instant, Elladan was certain he'd been written-off as useless in this enterprise, and that was a profound relief to him. No more crazy questions, damn it. He just wanted her to be his forever…

"This is not my forte," he said belatedly. The slight, apologetic smile was certainly enough to wring a sympathetic one from his fiancée. Ana returned the sheepish look at once.

"I am sorry, Elladan," she said, her thick accent dancing over the syllables of his name, "There is only one of me in this family. All the loco of weddings and families and grandchildren is highly concentrated."

He smiled and nodded in understanding. But oh how he wished his own entire family was here to give the both of them twice the insanity and four times the headache. "Would you ladies mind of I stepped out for a breath?"

"You can get Elrohir to sit in your stead," Ana laughed, "He looks just like you, and you don't say anything anyway."

"He fled from here hours ago," Elladan said good-naturedly, teasing her, "Cleverer than I it seems, though we look alike."

" " "

A Classroom,

Los Angeles

" " "

They were not quite sure of who he was, what he did for a living, why he had this nobility that seemed unparalleled. The mystery was dangerously intoxicating, and has been ever since that first time they set their eyes on him…

They met in a classroom in Los Angeles

… They instantly liked the look of him: aristocratic, ageless. He was just so beautiful. He had a curious pair of ears, longer than the usual. Not that very many of them noticed, for there was a host of great things that were unusual about him: his eyes were a stunning frosted blue, and looked at things and people sometimes warmly, sometimes imperviously. He'd win a staring game by a mile, as if he had all the time in the world (because he did, actually). His hair was spun gold, his face was chiseled by what surely must have been a pair of godly hands. His voice was even and melodious, carefully accented in this particularly high-brow British way…

Or maybe it was just that his audience this morning was a precocious batch of seven-year-olds and all they truly cared for was if he always brought a gun, if he ever shot anybody, if he ever got shot, could they see the scars please please please, et cetera, et cetera.

Legolas glanced at the teacher, genuinely wondering if he had to censor himself for violence. The old woman just urged him to continue with wide, excited eyes from beneath her thick glasses and flailing arms, looking a tad bit mad with her unkempt white, curly hair. She was encouraging him along as if he himself was just seven years of age as well, instead of the actual seven ages give or take.

The children were sitting before him in a semi-circle as he stood on the raised platform, explaining to them what he did for a living, wanting to encourage them to be in the police force themselves.

In all his innumerable years of living, he's never felt this much short-changed! With his face plastered all over the major newspapers and human interest magazines in Los Angeles ever since that insane incident in Rome last year, he's unwittingly become a bit of a much-loved public figure. And so a few weeks ago, in the middle of a children's birthday party in the suburbs, his partner Rafe Montes' seven-year-old son Mikey asked if the famous Detective Leland Greene could please please please be in his show and tell?

All heads expectantly turned his way: Rafe's, his wife Julianna's, all their children's, all the other kids who were there. It was Mikey's birthday. How could he have said no?

"Oh for god's sake, Montes," Legolas had said to his partner in a low tone when his voice was drowned out by the jumping cheers.

"What?" Montes asked him obtusely, "Kid's been bragging about knowing you, man. He sure hasn't been bragging about his daddy."

"But Montes," whined the elf uncharacteristically, "Don't they bring pets and weird inventions to these things, not people? I'm going to look like a circus act."

But he'd already given his word, and the word of Legolas of Mirkwood had always been cast in mithril. Besides, his boss the Captain, who was still very much irked at him for all of his most recent misadventures, decided to let him recuperate from his already secretly healed wounds by making him a goodwill ambassador to the schools to encourage enlistment to the police force.

"Enlistment?" he had asked, incredulous, "But sir, they are only seven!"

"It's never too early to start, Greene," the Captain barked at him, "You won't let little Mikey Montes down, will you?"

"No," Legolas had said glumly, "No sir."

And so there he was.

"So you have a gun right now?" a pert-nosed little girl asked him, looking a bit suspicious.

"Yes," replied Legolas, "But I know how to keep it safe around you, not to worry."

"Why don't women cops get to come over and talk to us?" a burly boy asked him.

"I'm not sure…" Legolas began, but the answer seemed to be more than a little bit unsatisfying. Admitting lack of knowledge was apparently lowering his stature as resident adult. "Well they're more busy than me."

"How come?" the boy pressed.

"Well," Legolas paused, racking his brain desperately, "Well they work, right? And then when they get home, they have to cook, and clean, and take care of the children…"

His answer was making the teacher frown.

The pert-nosed little girl raised up her hand. "Lieutenant, I think that's called the Double Burden."

Legolas felt his cheeks flush.

Little girl, he thought darkly, I think you read too much…

The Double Burden was a feminist buzz term which referred to how the modern woman was expected to have a career, and also expected to look after the household while men are not.

"Really, Lieutenant Greene," the annoyed teacher approached him after the short question and answer session, asking, "Your ideas are surprisingly archaic. Whatever era did you come from?"

To be continued…

" " "

The finalized version will be appearing in a month or two or three, or maybe in a few weeks, it depends on my schedule and my mood. In the meantime, if you guys want to find an excellent read, look up the books that inspired FEE2: "The Hot Zone" by Richard Preston. Riveting stuff, I tell you, and NONFICTION to boot! I read it and totally couldn't put it down and when I finally finished I couldn't sleep. And it's the root of all my germ-fears and cleanliness compulsions haha. Anyway, look out for FEE2, thank you for all your support and 'TIL THE NEXT FIC!