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Greenleaf & Imladris 22-Bereth:To Have and To Hold	By : MPB Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 3386 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 9
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A/N: Science fiction, not fantasy, was the inspiration for this chapter.

Chapter IX: Devilry in Abundance

They saw the black fortress from afar, looming like a dark shadow over the eastern pass of the range. It stood alone save for a scattering of tall sturdy trees along its walls. At one end, a lone tower spiraled upwards, its design reminiscent not of this age or even the last but of the Elder Days. Indeed, the twins realized in shock, it harkened to the look of the buildings of ancient Gondolin as seen in the preserved paintings and tapestries they had seen of that fabled city.

Lomion, be he Maeglin or not, either had an inordinate liking for ancient architecture or, more perturbing, hailed from that long ago age himself.

They swiftly traversed the distance to the narrow zigzagging trail that led up the hill upon which the stronghold stood. Here, they held counsel before proceeding. It was then that the others’ concern for Elrohir surfaced.

“We will go on, gwanneth”—younger twin—Elladan said. “You had best remain here.”

At Elrohir’s scowl, Legolas added soothingly: “You are still not quite recovered. We would not have you face peril so soon.”

“And you think me safe here? Alone?” Elrohir countered. “What if a horde of orcs should come upon me or, worse, more of those feeders? You will have to tie me down to keep me from going with you. In which case, I would be defenseless and as likely to perish as you.”

They could not dissuade him. He would go with them whether they wished it or not.

Leaving their mounts behind they scaled the hill, avoiding the track lest they be seen by any sentries. Coming up to the fortress they avoided detection by climbing a tall tree that practically overlooked the western wall of the compound. They studied the lay of the fortress and its fortifications. There was one great gate and two other smaller ones. All three were guarded but not heavily so and only a handful of orcs patrolled the walls themselves. So few in numbers were they that they had utterly missed the Elves’ approach.

Inside, there was a stone courtyard: a stark and cold open space. A few scattered goblins could be seen; some busily gaming on the steps of the keep while others sauntered to and fro. Further on, to the rear of the central building, they saw a long, low-roofed structure. Orcs moved in and out of it; it looked to be the barracks. They studied the keep itself.

It was beautiful in a disturbing way. Definitely of ancient Noldorin design, it was wrought of stone so dark a grey that it seemed almost black from a distance even in bright daylight. The twins guessed the stones must have been quarried from the northern reaches of the Ered Mithrin. While the keep sported one wide entrance, numerous doors dotted its sides as did narrow windows and a number of half-shuttered balconies. One thing it did not have and that was open galleries, which were common to most elven structures. It was a closed building that sought to hold its secrets.

The sole turret soared high above the rest of the building, a forbidding many-windowed column that easily dominated the entire stronghold. But if it had been built as a means of easily surveying the surrounding lands below the fortress, it was not serving its purpose at the moment. The Elves could see little activity through the windows of the turret. For that matter, there were few orcs even within the main wing of the keep itself if the lack of movement as seen through its various openings was indicative of their absence.

Their enemy did not seem too concerned about keeping his domain alert against the possibility of an attack. Did sorcery guard the stronghold or was its lord so confident of its isolation that he had not troubled to fortify it overmuch?

“I had expected this fortress to be better defended,” Gimli snorted, sounding rather disappointed.

Legolas noted Elrohir’s sudden stillness. The younger twin was staring at the keep with narrowed eyes.

“Aduial? What is it?” he softly asked.

Elrohir kept staring at the building. “There are Elves in the keep,” he murmured, a look of intense concentration on his face. “I can sense their presence.”

Elladan and Legolas stared at him then opened themselves to the tenuous connection Elrohir had tapped into. Elladan grimaced at length. “Aye, there are Elves in there. Or what used to be Elves.”

Gimli growled. “You mean – they’ve been turned into feeders?”

Elladan nodded. “And now I understand the lack of any real defense. Lomion may have gathered a small army of orcs and provided them with weapons and armor, but they are little more than raiders to him. ‘Twas they who ambushed the caravans and settlements and carried the women away. But they are not his main means of conquest.” He stared at the keep with barely suppressed rage. “This is not so much a fortress as a breeding center for his creatures.”

“Who once unleashed in full will prove exceedingly difficult to defeat particularly if Lomion shields them with armor,” Elrohir added.

“They were fearsome enough even without armor,” Legolas murmured, recalling their harrowing encounter in the high clearing by the mountain forest.

“Then we must go in and destroy them soonest,” Gimli declared.

“Hush!” Legolas hissed, eyes trained on the near wall.

Two guards came strolling along the top of the rampart directly beneath them. They never reached the other end. A pair of hands shot down, grabbed them by the scruffs of their necks and, before they could so much as squeal, hauled them up into the tree. A moment later their bodies were tossed down the steep slope below; they rolled to the bottom of the hill. Any who came across the corpses would think the fools had fallen from their perch and broken their necks as a result.

The Elves dropped lightly to the wall then helped Gimli descend. They raced down the side stairs leading to the courtyard. The orcs on guard never even heard them coming. In seconds, the space was littered with their carcasses.

An orc re-entering the fortress stopped in his tracks and gawked at the sight of corpses strewn about. He dashed for the barracks, shouting harshly to sound the alarm. His fellows came streaming out to see what all the commotion was about. They watched in shock as he suddenly stopped, stood stock still with the oddest look on his face then pitched forward on his face. They gawked at the arrow that stuck straight up out of his back.

And then pandemonium broke out. A lethal shower of arrows from above soon decimated their ranks. Those who escaped the deadly rain found their way blocked by a tall Elf and one doughty Dwarf. An instant later, Elrohir and Legolas came up behind the startled orcs. The resulting fight was brutal. These orcs were no more skilled than the goblins the Elves and Gimli had fought earlier. But they were just as savage and bloodthirsty. And for those who wore it, were well protected by their armor.

Eventually, skill and experience proved the better of sheer ferocity and the orcs were slowly overcome. Gimli roared smugly at Legolas as he smote yet another goblin, making the Elf-prince grin at him in return. They were therefore startled when a piercing shriek rose above the clamor.

Through the corner of his eye, Legolas saw that a door on the far side of the keep had been flung open. A score of well-armed orcs poured out. And in their midst were a half-dozen women in filmy grey raiment. But these women had been fitted with full helms of galvorn that protected their throats and breastplates that shielded their torsos. Thus attired they looked like the pagan war goddesses of the eastern lands.

Gimli rolled his eyes upon seeing them. “Not again!” he grumbled.

The battle turned eminently perilous as Elves and Dwarf squared off against the fresh contingent of orcs and the feeders. And for the longest while, it looked as if things would go ill for the invaders. Until Elladan discovered by a most fortuitous accident the one weak point in the feeders’ armor. Fending off one of them, he sought to slice up her jaw to slow her down at the very least. But she jerked her face away and his blade slid into the narrow seam where helm joined neckpiece and plunged straight into the creature’s throat. He yanked his sword out and watched in some disbelief as the feeder collapsed in a lifeless heap.

Timely edification indeed!

Meanwhile, Gimli found himself cornered by five orcs. Wielding his axe with relish he soon reduced the number to two. But as he gutted one goblin, the last one caught him from behind, forcing him to drop his axe. He struggled vigorously, trying to break free of the orc’s shackling arms. It was then that he realized what the orc was up to. A feeder was fast approaching them, her hands extended to cup his face.

Gimli bellowed in fury, bucking and kicking at the goblin behind him then lashing out with his feet at the woman. Two of his kicks caught her in the neck as she doubled over from a blow to her belly. But they glanced off the black metal that enclosed her throat, leaving not so much as a dent. She straightened up; he saw a blur of clutching fingers. Instinctively, he ducked his head just as she grabbed at him. She ended up with his orkish opponent’s face in her hands instead. The goblin howled in agony as the feeder started to drain him in lieu of the Dwarf.

Gimli broke free then regarded the hapless duo in mixed bemusement and amusement. The orc was positively ripe with terror and pain while the woman only stared at him with a vacuous expression. Grabbing his fallen axe the Dwarf gave but a moment to the thought that apparently the transformation of these women did nothing for their brains if they’d been bird-wits to begin with! Aiming for the weak spot in the creature’s helm, he lopped off both her head and the orc’s in one swing. As the now headless trunks sagged to the ground, he nodded with satisfaction then plunged right back into the fray.

The battle-happy Dwarf-lord soon noticed a feeder stalking Legolas as the prince waded into a scrappy group of orcs. Too far to fling his axe with precision, he caught up an orc lance and heaved it with all his might at the woman. It caught her just below her breastplate and pinned her to the wooden wall of the barracks. Legolas, having dealt with his opponents, called his thanks to his friend then turned to the writhing feeder. Strong as she was, she could not pull the lance out, so deeply embedded was it in the wall. She began to wriggle along it, literally passing herself along its length to get off it. She stopped, however, when she saw Legolas nearing her. And then, surprisingly, she ceased her movements and slumped upon the protruding lance.

Moving in for the kill, Legolas was taken aback when the creature spoke.

“Release me, my prince,” she begged. “End this torment.”

Legolas came closer and stared at the woman. She looked vaguely familiar despite the black wells of her eyes. With a start he realized she was an Elf. His blood ran cold. Had they already emerged?

“Who are you?” he asked in a low voice.

“Nelleth,” she rasped.

Legolas gasped in shock. Nelleth had been a lady of his father’s court. Long ago he had held nothing but contempt for her due to her unseemly rapacious conduct. But eventually, she had mellowed and wed and migrated with her husband and family to the north of Greenwood. Their settlement had been the first to be raided. She had been amongst the Elven women who had vanished in the wake of that attack.

“Slay me,” the Elf-woman pleaded. Her eyes changed, the blackness fading until Legolas could see the irises she had been born with. They were crystal clear gray. There was no longer any doubt. It was Nelleth.

He moved to pull out the lance but she immediately recoiled. “Nay!” she hissed. “I will not be able to stop myself. I will kill you.” She panted in pain. “You must release me...the others. Let us depart...to the Halls of Mandos... Help us find peace.”

Legolas drew his breath in sharply. “Have the others been unleashed?”

“Not yet...I am the first. But they will soon be ready. You must stop them... before they emerge.”

“Where are they?”

“The breeding chamber...eastern wing of the keep. But the talisman...is kept on a high altar...the tower.”

“Talisman?”

“That which has kept our master alive...feeds him the life energy we suck from our victims. He cannot be slain...so long as it exists. Destroy it...he will bleed and die...as will we.” She raised her head and gazed at him imploringly once more. “I was a loyal subject... release me. Have mercy, son of Thranduil.” The blackness took over her eyes once more. With awful suddenness she tried to grab Legolas’ face in her hands.

Legolas lunged back in horror. The creature, no, the ruined Elf-lady continued to flail her arms, trying to reach him. Pity and revulsion filled him even as a cold rage at the monster who had violated her took root within him. Gimli came up and wordlessly handed him his axe. Taking a deep shuddering breath, Legolas hefted it and decapitated her with one clean stroke.

Looking about, he realized the fighting had died down and that the twins were finishing off the last of the orcs. The four gathered in the center of the bloodied yard. Legolas swiftly recounted what he had learned from Nelleth.

“That door must lead to the breeding chamber,” he said, pointing to the passageway from which the women had emerged.

Elladan hurriedly made a decision. “Gimli and I will search for the talisman, gwanneth. You and Legolas take care of destroying the feeders.”

They split up, the older twin and the Dwarf hurrying toward the tower wing while the lovers headed for the open door.

It led into a dim and winding corridor lit only intermittently by candles. At the end of the passageway was a heavy wooden door. Elrohir lifted his hand and gingerly pushed it open.

They entered a large chamber illuminated only by torches. Their nostrils were immediately assailed by a queer odor. It was not foul but it was unpleasant nonetheless. It reminded them of the unwashed pelts of carrion eaters. Feral and unwholesome.

The chamber was windowless and dank and chilly. Elrohir could not help a slight shiver as his still less than fully recovered body reacted to the cold. The floor was of stone as were three walls but the far wall was of wood and rotting wood at that. The damp atmosphere had obviously done its worst on it. The two looked about in ever waxing loathing and horror.

“Oh Eru,” Legolas breathed shakily.

Slender spun casings of greyish white lined the walls. A few hung from the ceiling. They looked liked large gwilwileth cocoons. Approaching the closest forms, they found they could actually see through the porous material. Shuddering, they espied the women within, their countenances evincing great suffering as their bodies were warped into instruments of wickedness.

They noticed some casings moving, as if the creatures within were trying to break out. Alarmed, Elrohir snatched a torch from the wall.

“Are we going to burn them?” Legolas queried with distaste.

“I see no other way to end this soonest,” Elrohir said. “We cannot possibly slit all their throats!”

He held his torch to one cocoon, lighting it at the approximate location of the creature’s throat. As he and Legolas watched in sorrow, the entire casing began to writhe and jerk and a keening cry emanated from within. And then it went still and was wholly consumed by the flames.

Legolas grabbed a torch as well and the two of them set to their grisly task. It was gruesome going as the unearthly screams of the encased feeders rang through the chamber. Elrohir paused to watch Legolas set the suspended cocoons afire with flaming arrows.

He was just turning back to burn the remaining cocoons near the wooden wall when two suddenly split open. He called out a warning to Legolas as he unsheathed his sword. One feeder emerged, her body glistening with a clear, slightly viscous liquid, her dark hair plastered wetly to her head, neck and back. One moment she gazed at Elrohir with seemingly lucid eyes. But in the next they blackened into shadowed wells and she began to approach him, the fluids of her ghastly metamorphosis trailing behind her.

Elrohir had only a second to note her delicately tipped elven ears before she shrilled hungrily and lunged at him. A moment later, her body collapsed to the stone floor while her head tumbled away. He quickly turned to the other cocoon only to find it empty.

”Elrohir!”

Too late. Legolas raced to his mate as the other feeder pounced on him. But Elrohir fought back furiously, ramming his elbow into the creature’s belly. She screeched angrily and threw him against the wall then rushed him. He thrust his sword straight out at her and it ran right through her throat. But her momentum was such that she crashed into him with violent force.

Before Legolas’ horrified eyes, the rotting wall gave way and they vanished into the darkness beyond. And then the roof directly above caved in and came crashing down to block up the hole.

Barely waiting for the dust to settle, Legolas desperately tore at the great blocks of stone and thick beams of heavy wood. To no avail. He was separated from Elrohir by a veritable mountain of rubble.

*****************

Glossary:

Aduial - Twilight (Legolas’ pet name for Elrohir)

gwilwileth - butterfly

To be continued…
- 9
- 10
- 11
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Greenleaf & Imladris 22-Bereth:To Have and To Hold