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Mist of Misery	By : acids Category: -Multi-Age > General Views: 1366 -:- 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
- 1-Mist of Misery
- 2-Chapter Two
- 1
- 2
Title: Mist of Misery (2/?)

Authors: Acids (elf_acids@yahoo.com) & Bradamante(bellestern@yahoo.com)

Rating: NC-17

Pairings: Glorfindel/Gil-Galad, Glorfindel/Etchelion, Glorfindel/?

Summary: Amnesia stricken Glorfindel was a victim of cruel lust. Will someone save him before he fades away from grief?

Warnings: Slash, Angst, Rape, Violence, BDSM, Mpreg (will lead to miscarriage)

Authors' note: AU. Very dark fic (as usual). This is a sequel to Replacement, suggest you read that first. Just a reminder: PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. If it really makes you uncomfortable, do feel free to leave.
More A/N:

Bradamante: Mists of Misery was initiated by Acids and Red Autumn. I'm taking Red Autumn's place though I must say I would never dare to compare myself to her. Anyway, I give all acknowledgment of this chapter to Acids because I only brush it here and there.

Acids: So very sorry for the extremely long delay. Red is no longer available to continue this story (but I'll probably ask her if she can stay as an advisor. LOL) So I have Bradamante as my new partner, who's so very kind helping me to finish this fic. Hope this is for your liking.

This fic, in some ways, is very much AU and so out of canon. We've tried to follow the book though, but it didn't work, because we only continue what was left from the Replacement story. Don't flame us, please ..?

Thanks Andmetwen for beta reading, and Alasse for lending us a name.

* * *
Chapter Two
After spending almost two months living in Rivendell, Glorfindel grew accustomed to the way of living in Gil-Galad's realm. At night, Gil-Galad would spend most os tis time with him, taking pleasure from his body, while at the same time torturing him with his wicked sense of love making. But during the day, the High King had many duties to attend, so Glorfindel was usually left alone and inevitably lonely.

He had no friend at all, as no one dared to befriend him. Most of the Elves in Rivendell, even the servants, were afraid to even to talk to him, as they did not have any intention to arouse unwanted attention from Gil-Galad.

To kill the time Glorfindel usually spent it roaming around the forest of Imladris by himself, and that is how he had found his hiding place. It was a secluded glade located deep in the woods, with green grass and a small pond in it. Glorfindel always found much delight spending his time in his little heaven, enjoying his own solitude and listening to the songs of the trees.

Anar shone brightly that morning, as the young Elf walked through the giant tress of Imladris forest, heading to his secret glade. His footsteps were light, the exact opposite of how he felt inside him.

The initial helplessness and frustration of not remembering his past had wore off, living him instead with a feeling of emptiness and numbness. He felt lost in a world unknown to him, a world without memories of friends, family or known places; a world with no reminiscence of experienced feelings of happiness, sadness, rage or compassion; a world with no pride of past achievements. All his battles were gone now, stripped from his life, had vanished in a fatal instant. It was a moment in time that he couldn't grasp, an elusive moment that would give him back his life and for that he feared this moment the most.

And then there was Gil-Galad, the High King of Elves, whom he feared and loved at the same time. Despite the fact that Gil-Galad had told him many times about the love and passion the two of them had shared, he couldn't help to feel nothing but fear. He did feel protected and loved by Gil-Galad but there was something else he couldn't hold. The more he thought about it, the more frightened he felt about the Hiing.ing. He wanted to understand him but sometimes he was so hurt by the things Gil-Galad coerced him to do. He was trapped in a constant nervousness, always fearing what his lover would like and dislike.

What Glorfindel longed for was a real love, a pure affection between two beings with no such feeling of any fear and uncertainty. And to be honest with himself, Glorfindel did not feel so certain that Gil-Galad could give him that. He just felt not certai eve everything nowadays.

His despondency was cut short as the glade suddenly appeared in sight. Glorfindel's lips curled into a thin smile, all dark musings abruptly vanished from his mind as he imagined all the pleasant activities he might do. He would take a swim in the pool, then he would lie himself on the grass, bathing his skin with the tender lights of the morning sun. And afterwards, if he still had time, he would...

Glorfindel froze. His keen hearings caught clearly a sound of metal piercing through the air, very close to the sound of a sword. A frown quickly appeared on the young Elf's face. He knew what that meant. It meant that he was not alone. Not that it was impossible as the forest was served as almost a sanctuary to most of the inhabitants in Rivendell, but as far as Glorfindel could remember, he recalled no one had ever dared to visit the glade; his glade, befores. s.

Out of curiosity, Glorfindel soundlessly walked, or rather tiptoed, to a giant oak tree and hid himself behind it. He pressed his body tightly to the tree trunk, then carefully he took a peek.

In the middle of the hidden, small field, there stood a dark haired Elf, one Glorfindel had never seen before. The Elf was clearly oblivious to Glorfindel's presence, as he kept practicing his sword fight, his every limb moved with an agility and gracefulness of thousand years of training. He lunged slashing an imaginary enemy with fast movements almost lost to the eye, his legs shifting in a vigorous stride balancing him in a powerful dance. The muscles of his arms flexing visible under his clothes with the economical movements of someone who knows no motion can be spared in battle.

Deep inside, Glorfindel somehow knew how deadly that person's movement was and that not many Elves possessed that similar skill. It brought him to a conclusion that whoever this stranger was, he must have been someone with a rather important rank.

Glorfindel contemplated flight, to leave the forest and go back to the manor. He could not risk being caught off guard watching someone he did not even know. It would bring only embarrassment, not just to himself, but also to Gil-Galad. His lover would be very mad at him, and dealing with the King's wrath was something Glorfindel could not afford, not at all.

But in the next moment, all coherent thoughts fled away from him as his sight was focused once again to the figure in the glade, this time with a regard not so warrior like.

The Elf was tall, literally was taller than he was, and had a muscular body. His black shining tresses fell freely around his shoulderramiraming an undeniably handsome face. The front of his tunic was open, and Glorfindel's eyes automatically strayed onto the strong porcelain chest underneath, viewing as trickles of silvery sweats dripped and glinted deliciously under the sunlight on the smooth surface of the Elf's flawless skin.

Glorfindel gulped down nervously, suddenly forgot how to breathe, as he stood transfixed by the splendid sight lay before his very eyes. That being was undoubtedly the most attractive creature Glorfindel had ever seen, a dark beauty whose fairness most possibly was surpassing even that of Gil-Galad's himself.

The young blond did not remember how long it was that he had been standing there, drinking every dl ofl of the slim and dazzling form several feet away from him as if he could not have enough of what he was seeing.
It came to an end when all of a sudden, the Elven swordsman put a halt to all of his movement and very slowly he lowered his sword. He stood very still for a few moments with his back to Glorfindel. Then without turning around, his deep, elegant voice filled the silent air.

"Your presence is not welcome here. Come out now, or I will make you."

A sudden intake of breath that was Glorfindel's left his throat; his mouth unexpectedly had gone so dry. He was so certain that he did not make any voice, nor did he make any visible sign of his presence. But still this stranger knew he was there as if he could smell him merely by sniffing the air.

Glorfindel cursed silently, realizing what kind of foolishness he had emitted. He should not underestimate the sharp senses of Elves, more over those that belonged to this kind of such of prowess warrior. Cold panic and sudden dread jetted into every corner of Glorfindel's mind. Without thinking, the young Elf spun around and bolted through the trees, running as fast as his feet could carry him.

Although he sprinted like there was an army of orcs behind him, Glorfindel could hear another breaths and footsteps behind him and learnt quickly that the Elf was coming after him. He couldn't take the risk of glancing back as he didn't want to run into a tree, but out of instinct he knew that his pursuer was getting near.

In between his own rising fear, Glorfindel quickened his pace, beginning to hope that with a little luck, he could loose him. He was an inhabitant here anyhow, he knew this forest much better than that Elf, and that fact alone should be an advantage for him to find a safe spot to hide himself, and then make his way back to the manor.

The soothing thought vanished and crushed down, as he felt the Elf lunged himself onto his back. Out of nowhere, strong hands wrapped themselves around his waist, followed by a leg tackling his own. He lost his balance, causing both of them to tumble hard to the ground. A loud yelp left Glorfindel's mouth as he fell down with his face landed onto the grass and the other Elf on his back.

As soon as his body collided with the soft earth, Glorfindel flipped around to face his attacker. He struggled madly and a howl left his mouth. "Get off me!"

"Glorfindel!" The Elf exclaimed with not so little shock in his voice. He tried to stop the frightened young Elf from lashing out, and failed terribly as it only caused Glorfindel to respond by the intensifying of his struggles.

The feeling of a body pressed close to him sent ripples of sheer fright to surge through Glorfindel's whole features. Red haze of deep fear began clouding his eyes and mind. There was not only one Elf that was holding him, but more. He felt pairs of hands grabbed his own, holding him completely secured. He was unable to move. And to his greatest terror, he was naked, vulnerable, fully under their mercy.

There was one Elf; he couldn't see his face, but could feel him as he entered his body, as his hardness filled his insides, an intense pain that tore his body apart. He could hear their cruel laughter and jeers as they tortured and ravished him, while all he could do was scream and scream...

"FINDFINDEL!"

The roaring voice and the strong grips on his shoulders awoke the young Elf from his nightmare. As fast as it came, the frightening red clouds gradually disappeared from his eyes, allowing him to once again have a clear view of his surroundings.

Glorfindel laid on the forest floor, almost hyperventilating. His body was as taut as a string bow and his wide eyes fluttered as he seemed to stare at nothing, lost in another world. With one definite clear struggle, the young Elf forced tranquility into himself, striving to stay focus and to calm the frenzied beatings of his heart.

The dark haired Elf was kneeling down beside him, clutching his shoulders with both palms and watching him with an equal measure of worry and extreme confusion on his face.

"Calm down, Glorfindel," He whispered in a half soothing-half panicked tone. "I did not mean you any harm."

Startled, the young blond sat up straight as a board and slapped those hands away. Then he slid backwards as fast as he could, only stopped when his back was pressed into the trunk of the tree behind him. It seemed the other Elf did not have any intention to make any further movement; much to Glorfindel's relief, instead he was only watching him with steady eyes.

Gorfindel folded his knees to his chest, hugging himself, and raised dreadful eyes to the figure kneeling down a few feet away from him, but otherwise he remained very quiet.

"I am sorry, pen-neth," The stranger repeated his apology. "Please, do not be afraid of me."

Glorfindel gazed at him under disbelieving, wide green eyes, feeling lost at what to do or say. His head began to hurt terribly and with it, came the first attack of nausea. How unlucky he was today. Minutes ago he was hoping for one pleasing day in the woods; but instead was falling sick with no one but a stranger on his side.

Glorfindel swallowed down. He had to somehow show some strength, it would do him no good to reveal any symptom of sickness in front of this Elf, regardless whoever he might be.

Trying hard to get rid of the wild poundings in his head, Glorfindel stammered, his voice was dry, filled only by fear. "W- who are you? How do you know my name?"

The frown on Glorfindel's face deepened as he watched the other being grew paler.

"So it is true..." A faint whisper leaked passed the Elf's lips, as if he was speaking to himself. But as soft as it was, Glorfindel's still keen hearing did not miss even a word.

"What is true?" Glorfindel interrupted in alarm, his heartbquicquickened ten folds in a growing trepidation.

"Nothing," The Elf replied hastily, blinking his eyes as if to recover himself from the seemingly slight shock he was just went through. "'Twas... nothing."

Glorfindel did not believe him one bit, but he had no courage to persuade the other to talk. The situation was already bad enough for him. He continued to watch him, following every small movement the other made with uneasiness and distrust.

The tall Elf stirred rather restlessly on his feet, then pointed to the empty space next to Glorfindel. "May I?"

Glorfindel bit his lower lip. He waone one and had no weapon, and he definitely was too weak to be able to defend himself should this Elf had any ill will toward him. But the sincerity in the gray eyes convinced him that this Elf was telling the truth, that he meant no harm at all. Mutely, he nodded his permission.

The Elf crouched closer, was very careful not to make any bodily contact, and seated himself next to the frightened youngster. Then the two locked their gazes, sharing nothing but a long uncomfortable silence among themselves.

If his situation was better, Glorfindel was sure that he would melt into those stormy dark eyes. But he was too trapped in his recent horrid images, and no matter how hard he tried, he could not stop his body from shaking.

Feeling ashamed of himself, Glorfindel could look no more and averted his gaze to the trees around him, slightly confused and fretful of what would this stranger might want to do to him.

"I am terribly sorry for frightening you, pen-neth," Finally the Elf began to speak, breaking the long quietness between them and mercifully distracting him from his train of thought. "It was not my intention."

Glorfindel still didn't trust him, but the genuine honesty in his voice quickly touched something deep inside him. He slowly lifted his eyes to once more meet the other's gaze and repeated his earlier question. "Who are you?"

"I am called Etchelion," The other answered, smiling warmly as if to release Glorfindel from all his tension. "I am on a duty to accompany my Lord for his regular visit to Rivendell. I came to the forest by myself only to practice my sword fight. I thought you were spying on me and chased you only to question you, but never I intended to harm you. Please, you have to believe me."

Glorfindel confirmed his understanding by giving him one brief nod, but said naught for a reply. He lowered his gaze to the now closed tunic, and saw an emblem that was not Imladris's sewn on the top of the uniform. Other than that, Glorfindel too saw a certain symbol on the bottom of the emblem, one that marked the superiority of this Elf among his people, confirming Glorfindel's assumption of his high status.

Again, in some other time, Glorfindel would happily rain him with every kind of curious questions such as where he from and what kind of realm he lived in. But this time those things were not even caught his attention, for all he thought about was only what had been happening to himself. For a quick second, the horrendous hallucination flashed across his mind, making him tremble even more furiously.

"What was happening to me?" he murmured, not actually wishing to know the answer.

"I am not sure," Etchelion replied softly, once more his features grew darken by great concern. "You were screaming and fighting once I dropped you to the ground. What was it that you see? Your gaze was miles away. You seemed to be reliving something."

Glorfindel shook his head. He knew not what it was. It was like a daydream, but the feel of it seemed too real to be only an illusion. The fear was real, and so were the touches on his body. And the feeling of pain... He shuddered.

Now his head was hurt even worse to the point of almost unbearable. He had to return to the palace, or else he would drop down right on this spot. And being unconscious with someone he hardly knew was definitely the last thing on his mind.

"I better go back," He stated, then in a very slow movement lifted himself to stand on his feet.

The ground rocked merrily beneath him as he finally stood up, and he leaned his body heavily onto the tree. He clenched his eyes shut, trying to overcome the nauseating feeling inside him, but the act only sent million of stars to burst dancing in his vision. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Etchelion watched him closely, somehow detecting his sickness slowslowly starting to mas ias if to give him a helping hand.

"Are you ill, Glorfindel?" Etchelion asked, bewildered.

Never before Glorfindel felt this weak, and he actually doubted if he could go back to the manor unaided. It was so easy to ask for help, if only his pride allowed him to do such a thing.

Stubbornly, the blond shook his head. "Nay, I am well."

He managed to take some shaky steps forward, before thrld rld started to spin madly around his head and his knees buckled. All he felt before he succumbed into insensibility were a pair of strong hands that caught his fall and a warmness of another body neared him. Then the next second, he could feel nothing else except the grip of the darkness.
* * *
The first thing Glorfindel felt when he woke up was a wet cloth that was pressed onto his forehead. It took some time for him to realize that he was no longer in the forest, but in one of the healing chambers located in the palace. He lied on a soft bed, and discovered that he was naked but with a thick blanket covering his .
.

Two blond Elves he recognized as the healers were standing next to his bed, watching him with their expressionless face. But the outsider Elf by the name of Etchelion was not in sight. Glorfindel didn't have to think twice of who it was that had brought him here and reminded himself to thank him later on. A stranger Etcheliightight be, but it was him who had helped him after all.

He didn't know how long he was unconscious, he was shivering still, not from the cold but from something else. He lifted his head, trying to get up, and regretted it at once as a dull ache shot back into his head. A small whimper issued from his lips and he slumped back to the pillow.

"Easy, pen-neth," One of the healers told him kindly as he ga lig light squeeze on one of his shoulders, persuading him not to leave the bed. "Lie down. You are in no condition to go anywhere."

"I... have to go," Glorfindel mumbled, tiredly rubbing his brows as if by doing so he could lessen the hurt. "Gil-Galad might be looking for me."

"We have notified the King about you," The blond healer answered him. "We have just been informed that he is on his way here."

Glorfindel sighed silently, not knowing whether he had to be relieved or to expect something worse by that statement. Gil-Galad would know that he was ill and he was not sure how the king would react to it. Most possibly he would be mad because Glorfindel had tried to hide his sickness all along.

The thought of hisditidition brought Glorfindel back to reality and he turned his head very slowly to face the healer.

"What appeappening to me?" He asked curiously. "What is this peculiar disease I have?"

The blond Elf forced a soothing smile on his face as he shook his head. "I will explain later, when the King arrives. As for now, please lie down and just try to relax."

They didn't seem to wait any longer as Glorfindel could hear footsteps that he recognized too well whom were they belong to. In the next second, the wooden door barked open, and his lover entered the room. Immediately, the two Elves bowed their heads to their King, but Gil-Galad ignored them almost completely, walking straight pass them to approach the hurting Elf on the bed.

"Lirimaer, what happened?" Worry and pity were in Gil-Galad's voice as he gently laid a palm onto Glorfindel's forehead. "I heaou fou fell unconscious in the forest. Are you alright?"

"I am now," The young beauty replied weakly. He tried to offer a little smile to calm his seemingly raging lover, but it was soon vanished as Gil-Galad didn't even bother to return it; instead the mighty Elven King turned around to face the healers.

"Taltasse, what is wrong with him?" The dark haired Elf asked aloud, almost thundering, his expression was one of obvious impatience. "Have you found out about his illness?"

"Yes my lord," The healer named Taltasse answered respectfully. He straightened to look straight onto the Kings eyes, in anyway could not avoid a slight nervousness to engulf his face. "But 'tis not a sickness."

Gil-Galad's brows knitted and he folded his hands to his chest. "Then what is it?"

Taltasse drew a deep breath as if what he would say next was capable to bring the whole middle earth into its end. He glanced to Glorfindel for one brief second, but his eyes were back to the King as he gave his reply.

"With all respect, Sire, your spouse is with child."

TBC
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Mist of Misery