Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

The fallen one	By : Nuredhel Category: +Third Age > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 1886 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, it belongs to Tolkien, and i do not earn any money from this work of fiction, it is solely written for entertainment and not for profit at all.I do not own Lord of the Rings, it belongs to Tolkien,

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
Chapter Three: Rescue
Don’t turn away from the light
Don’t allow darkness to win
Hope is never dead or gone
Freedom may yet be at hand

Outside of the village:
Aragorn and the other two had paid for the little glimpse and returned to their horses, they rode out of the village in silence since they knew that they would be unable to contain their wrath if they were to speak. It wasn’t until they reached the forest that Aragorn let it all out in a row of curses so bad Hakon turned his head in disbelief. The ranger was shaking with rage and his face was pale. Grimurd looked rather shaken too, and Hakon just knew that they would try to rescue the poor elf. The question was how? They found the other ones and the twins ran forth, grasped the reins of Aragorn’s horse. “Was it an elf?”
Aragorn nodded and the two gasped and stared in disbelief. “It was, a very tall redheaded ellon. He was a mess but alive, very defiant I believe, very proud. Too proud to give in and die, or so I at least hope!”
Elladan frowned. “Red head? Not many elves have red hair?”
Elrohir continued. “It has gotten a bit of a bad reputation you know, since a certain family was about.”
Aragorn got off the horse and he tried to control himself. “I know, and I bet this one would have made even Maedhros look plain but nonetheless, he needs help and he needs it fast.”
The other elves had walked over to and listened and the two veterans looked eager. “How are we to do this?”
Aragorn tilted his head and sighed. “With stealth and yet bloodshed will be unavoidable, there are guards there and we will need the keys for doors and chains. “
Elladan and Elrohir stared at each other. “You have to bring us too, you cannot hold us back now. You will need us.”
Aragorn grinned. “Yes, I will. So you elves are a part of this mission for sure.”
He waved his hand at some of the other rangers, gathered a group around him. “We strike tonight, late!”
One of the other men grinned. “The wolf hour, when everybody is fast asleep.”
Aragorn nodded and made a swift drawing in the mud. “We enter the village from different directions, there are some small gates that can be used and we gather by the house in silence, some from the front, others from the back, got it?”
The men nodded and Elladan and Elrohir stared at the drawing. “It is a big building, there has to be a lot of people there?”
Aragorn nodded. “There is, so we need to be many. We cannot allow ourselves to be caught in the cellar, someone has to stay up there and guard our back until we can get the poor ellon out of there.”
He pointed at the men. “You, you and you will guard the stairs, the rest of the rangers takes care of the rest of the house. The elves follow me down into the basement, there are guards there too and doors that needs to be unlocked.”
Grimurd frowned. “How do you intent do get the key?”
Aragorn sent him a vicious grin. “The owner of that filthy place has to be there somewhere or what? He has got the keys and I will have no problems with making him give them up.”
Elladan scoffed. “Yeah, I don’t doubt that. We will help you, we know how to make scum speak, he cannot be that much different from an orc now can he?”
Aragorn snarled. “Oh he is probably worse! So anticipate anything my friends.”
He turned around and stared at the group of rangers. “Use this evening to prepare, sharpen your blades and get ready for battle. Everyone you meet in that building may be an enemy.”
The men just mumbled and went off to rest and get ready and Aragorn sat down and went through the things he had seen in his head. They would have to strike hard and fast and leave none with a chance to fight back.
Some gathered firewood and made a little bonfire and food was being cooked. Elladan and Elrohir kept asking Aragorn questions about the ellon and he answered as well as he could. The small camp was quiet and some slept while others sat checking their weapons, with the five elves and Aragorn there would be fifteen men in all in the group and a few would stay behind to watch the horses. When they had rescued the ellon they would have to leave fast.
The day was long, time moved as slowly as a louse on a stick covered in tar and the waiting was the worst part of it but Aragorn knew that it couldn’t be as bad as what the poor elf had to face every day. It was really weird that he was alive, there had to be some exceptional strength in him. The sun set and darkness fell, the village was for a few hours more lively than before but then the ale houses closed down and the inhabitants went home to sleep and everything got quiet and peaceful.
The group had split up and moved into the city in darkness, the elves did see well without light and the rangers were used to moving through dark places too without making much noise. Aragorn and the twins had formed a group and they were heading for the front of the building, some of the others were already waiting in hiding when they arrived and they all made use of the shadows. Finally they all were there, Aragorn gave a signal, a whistling sound that made the men find their positions. Two were to remain on the outside to watch out for enemies arriving and the main flock went to the main door. It was locked but Aragorn just kicked it up and the rangers and elves rushed into the house like a horde of marauding madmen. The guards were caught completely by surprise and the three in the front room died fast each with a throwing dagger through their hearts. Aragorn and Grimurd and the twins went for the master of the house. There were some large rooms upstairs and they soon found the servant, he was asleep and did barely have time to wake up before he was knocked out again. He was no danger, just a weasel of a man with no honor and not even worth the effort of killing.
The master of the house lived in a grand apartment at the back of the house and Aragorn heard that the rangers herded the women of the place into some rooms and locked them. It was no reason why they should be put in danger of being used as living shields or something. One of the elven veterans had joined Aragorn and the twins and he looked both stunned and disgusted. “I understand humans less for each year, this place is vile!”
Aragorn nodded. “Yes, it is.”
They kicked open the door to the masters rooms and heard a shriek, a man got out of a very luxurious bed covered with expensive fabrics and he was a peculiar sight. He was way above his youth, probably in his sixties somewhere but he looked even older due to a life of indulging in an excess of food, booze and debauchery. He was almost comical, a short man with a wrinkly face and thin almost snow white hair, thin stick arms with no muscle left, a chicken chest and a round protruding belly over a pair of stick thin legs. Aragorn almost growled and the man stared at the group that had entered his room and he probably would have pissed himself if he could. Aragorn was truly angry, this man was responsible for the suffering and death of many and he felt no compassion towards him at all. This creature was a boil on the bottom of society and had to be removed before it spread its poison further. “The keys to the basement and the chains, now!”
The man tried to be defiant. “No!”
The elves threw their hoods back and the man squeaked when he saw them, he went pale. He had probably believed that these were thieves, there to steal his money and his most priced asset but now he knew otherwise and he nodded towards some clothes that hang on the wall. “The….the breast pocket…”
Aragorn got over and found the keys, he turned to Elladan and nodded. “He is yours, do what you want with him.”
The elf stared at the man with hatred and grief. “The female you let your customers rape to death? She was our friend! Her blood is on your hands you piece of shit!”
The man just gaped and Elrohir made a move so swift nobody was even able to see it. One second the man stood there, the next he was on the floor with a long thin dagger protruding from his ear. He had died instantly and Elrohir bent down and pulled the weapon out with a grimace of pure disgust. “He should have been left out in the wilds so the orcs could find him and have some fun with him but that would be a too big chance to take. This vermin would have corrupted even them!”
The peredhel’s voice was rather poisonous and Aragorn nodded and headed back downstairs. The rangers had taken control over the top floors but the basement was yet not checked and Aragorn prepared. Three were to guard the stairs and got in position and he and the elves started descending slowly. There were guards down there as they had anticipated and they knew something had happened. They had heard the sounds of battle from above and were ready and Aragorn had to duck as a bolt from a crossbow headed straight for his head. Luckily for him he had quick reflexes and the elves rushed by him and one of the veterans took the head of the crossbow man with a quick move. The other guards there were armed with swords but that was no wise move in such a crammed space. The elves used long knives instead and that was way more efficient and before long the guards were dead.
They moved forth slowly, Aragorn unlocked the first door and two more guards came rushing but were cut down by Grimurd and Elladan. The place was rather silent but they heard some sounds coming from the room where the elf was being held. Aragorn cringed, he knew what that was and the elves stared with huge eyes and terror written all over their faces. Aragorn unlocked the bars and the door behind them very silently and the door was well oiled and could be opened a bit without anybody noticing it. Aragorn took a peek, there were one guard there, standing by the wall and he was too busy stroking himself to notice any movement at the door. Two men had obviously bought the elf for the night and they had tied him down onto the bench and one was having his way with the helpless ellon right there and then. The other was standing there panting and eager for his turn and the sounds they had heard were the screams of the elf and the man’s roars of pleasure. Aragorn turned his head slowly, indicated the number of enemies with his hand and the others got ready and nodded. They heard a terrible pained groan from the elf and Aragorn saw that Elladan had problems, he had tears in his eyes and he was trembling ever so slightly. Aragorn pushed the door open and went for the guard, the man had time to gape and let go of his cock before the ranger’s blade pierced his heart. Elladan let out a howl of rage and cut the waiting customer almost in half and one of the veterans went for the man who was busy raping the elf, the man just stood there in shock and the warrior grasped him by his neck, pulled him away from his bleeding victim and jabbed his hunting knife into the man’s chest. The man howled in pain once and jerked violently before the elf let go of him and let the body just drop.
The ellon still lay chained to the bench, tears had made the fabric underneath the head wet and there was blood on his wrists and ankles. He had tried to fight even now and Aragorn just hoped that he wouldn’t give up now that he was being rescued. To some such a shock, even a positive one, can be what tips them over the edge.
He saw that the elf was half delirious, his eyes blurred and distant and he was making mewling sounds in pain and fear. Elrohir was kneeling down, touched the ellon’s cheek gently. “Easy mellon, we are here to rescue you, do you understand?”
The redhead just mumbled and Aragorn used the keys to get the chains off him. The steel had cut into the elf’s skin in several places and it didn’t look good at all. Elladan was panting, he stared at the abused elf with eyes glowing with rage. “Those…filthy…I have no words, I truly have no words!”
Aragorn nodded and they grasped the elf and turned him around very gently. There was a bottle of wine standing on the floor and there was still some left in it and they held it to the ellon’s lips. First he resisted but then he tasted what it was and drank greedily. He had to be completely parched. Aragorn was close to tears, he was even more strikingly handsome now when they could take a good look at him and his heart wept on this tortured souls behalf. He could not even start to imagine what the elf had had to endure for weeks now. Elrohir and Elladan tried to make him stand but he was too weak, his legs buckled and he groaned in pain. They stared at Aragorn with desperate eyes. “We have to carry him!”
Aragorn sighed, the elf was seven foot tall at least and had to weigh a lot but he was skinny and they were many. They just had to hurry. The veterans and the young warrior stood there looking at the room with eyes that spoke clearly of their shock and disgust. The elf shook his head, the glassy eyes seemed to be unable to really notice anything around him but he was apparently aware of the presence of others. The cracked dry lips moved and he spoke, the voice raw and hoarse and barely audible, the vocal cords damaged from screaming again and again in agony and fear. “Please, kill me, let me die”
It was then that Elladan broke down in tears and Elrohir had to grasp onto him to prevent him from collapsing.

Huna’s POV

The journey had been a nightmare, he had been thrown over the back of a horse and tied down and when he did regain consciousness there wasn’t a part of his body that didn’t ache. The physical pain was bearable, the other pain wasn’t, They were dead, killed in monstrous ways and he was the cause of it all, it was all because of him. He shouldn’t exist. He saw their faces in front of him and he groaned and cursed the gods again and again. The one to die should have been him, not them, not the innocent. Not even Ida deserved that fate, she had been lonely and desperate and unable to understand the difference between her race and elves. He could forgive her, he already had but these men? Never, not until the world was remade. His hatred burned like embers in his chest, kept him alive even when his soul yearned to let go and flee.
The men stopped at dusk, he was hauled off the horse and tied to a tree, his body was trembling with fatigue and they were mocking him, calling him names and the leader just grinned and told him that he would be a wealthy man when he had sold the elf to the right persons.
Huna had understood what they wanted to do to him now, he was aghast and if he hadn’t had the hatred and rage to hold onto he would have died. There had to be a way to escape, to avenge them all. He had to live until their deaths were avenged with blood. He learned that the leaders name was Aegil and he was from the north, he was the most ruthless of this group of evil doers and he was the one the others feared and obeyed like a pack of dogs obeys their master.
He had to hang there tied to the tree for the whole night and he found no relief for his pains at all. He felt cold and hungry and he was terribly thirsty due to the loss of blood. He knew that the leader had been the first to violate him but he hadn’t been the only one and he still felt as though he could feel their hands upon him and hear those disgusting moans and gasp.
When the morning light reappeared they gave him some water, it was filthy and tasted like something that had been lain dead for ages but he was so desperately thirsty. He tried to kick when they lifted him onto the horse again and was rewarded with a kick to the groin that made him fall to the ground again with a gasp. He was hauled to his feet like a sack of flour and tossed onto the horse and tied down. His head hurt still from the rock that had hit him and he feared a concussion but nobody cared about his injuries. As long as he didn’t die these men would do nothing to help him. He had never been this alone, never been this abandoned.
They travelled for days, through a terrain that became less ragged and more easy to cross for every day, they crossed rivers and meadows and he didn’t know anything of what he saw. The land was alien to him and he felt how desperation forced its claws into him, deeper and deeper. He was forced to eat left over’s from their meals, he did try to resist but his hunger was soon too strong. He gnawed the last remnants of meat from the bones they tossed to him as if he was a dog, they even made him drink the awful moonshine they had brought with them. And after a few days the leader decided that it was time to teach him yet another lesson.
He did fight, as hard as he could and he did manage to break the arm of one of the men and the nose of another one but after just a little they became too strong since they were many and he was just one and weakened. The leader took him once more and he prayed for death, for salvation from this terrible situation but the gods were deaf or didn’t care. He passed out again after a while, and when he came too again he was once more tossed over the back of a horse. He soon lacked the strength to fight anymore, he just surrendered, tried to retreat into the deepest corners of his own mind where nothing could touch him.
When they reached the village he was so weak he couldn’t stand up and he couldn’t fight at all. He was just half conscious and he barely noticed it when some pot-bellied small man checked his teeth as if he were a horse and fondled his male parts. He just knew he had reached the end of the line, he would die there for sure. Sooner or later he would face the end and he hoped that it would be soon. A huge pouch filled with gold exchanged owner and Aegil left with a grin, men grabbed Huna and dragged him down into the basement where they forced him to eat so that he didn’t look so gaunt. He was force fed like a goose for days and his strength did return, at least a little of it. They bathed him with rough hands, smeared his body with lotions to remove the marks and combed and brushed his hair. They treated him like a sort of animal being made ready for a show and yet they showed no care, no compassion. He was a thing, an asset. They couldn’t let him lose any of his value by starving him or making him look less than perfect but otherwise from that he was a slave, a thing. Something to make money on.
He was there for almost a week before the first customer came and he got desperate when he realized what that fat hairy man was going to do to him, he did panic, tried to break out of the chains, he managed to bite but then the guards almost strangled him and he was once again forced to endure. Luckily for him the man had gotten so aroused watching the elf struggle to avoid the whole thing he came almost immediately but it was just the start. Huna lost track of time, lost track of night and day, it was a never ending torturous nightmare from which there were no escape. He wanted to be gone, death seemed like such a sweet escape and he even tried to bite off his own wrist once when the guards were a little less vigilant than usual. They stopped him and he knew that this option also was lost to him. One of the guards did perhaps have a tiny piece of humanity left in him, he let the elf get some strong brandy before the customers arrived and Huna had learned to drink as much as he could. When he was almost unconscious it was a little easier but nonetheless awful. The feeling of being used like an animal was just heart wrenching and he had only the anger left. He wanted to avenge them, if he wasn’t to die those monsters were to take his place in hell for sure. They would pay for what they had done to him. He was forced to eat and drink, they washed him and yet he could never be clean enough, he still felt those disgusting liquids clinging to his skin and the worst part was when his own body betrayed him and spilled. That did sometimes happen, in special when he was half conscious and those who took him hit something inside of him, something very sensitive. It made him feel even worse than usual, as if he wanted it, enjoyed it. He felt like a filthy wreck on those occasion, like something too dirty and tainted to be allowed to draw breath.
Some of the customers liked to hear him scream, liked to see him squirm in agony and they found new and inventive ways to torture him. Sometimes he was certain that they would kill him and he wanted them to do it, just so it all would end. But they didn’t, he was too expensive, too valuable. A few customers were almost nice, they would caress him, mumble soft words and their hands were gentle but in the end he always ended up with them taking him, panting and grunting with lust. When he was left alone in the darkness he did weep, he felt so alone, so terrified. He had gotten so afraid of this he almost welcomed the guards, he thought he heard the voices of the slain family when he was left there in the dark and they were accusing him, blaming him for their deaths. He would beg the guards not to leave and they just laughed and locked the door, left him in complete darkness to fight his demons alone. Nobody heard his cries, his desperate moans, nobody cared. He knew he was losing his sanity and he embraced it, allowed it to take over. It was better than knowing what they did to him. He didn’t react that much anymore, the hatred still burned in him but it too was dying and when it ended so would he.
He did notice the three men that entered the cell, they stared at him but somehow they were different, their eyes had another expression, one of shock more than lust. He found the strength to growl, to stare back. He had a clear moment since they hadn’t given him anything to drink that morning and he tried to intimidate them, protect himself. The man with black hair had bowed down and there was compassion in his eyes, he heard the adan mutter something in a language that seemed strangely familiar and Huna just knew that these three were different. They left and he almost wanted to shout out, to beg them to stay. He hadn’t seen friendly eyes for a long time, hadn’t felt that someone cared for him at all.
Two men came that evening, they had watched as the guards washed him and he allowed himself to drift off, as if he wasn’t in his body at all anymore. It was the only chance he had to survive this and the men that had visited earlier that day had somehow given him a glimpse of hope, why he didn’t know. The two had enjoyed fondling him, trying to make him react but he had remained flaccid and they had become frustrated and the guards had chained him to the bench again. He lay there and was far away, in a bright golden light where nothing could harm him. He just knew it, this night was to be his last, he was ready to let go, ready to let his soul be called to stand in front of the throne, ready to face his judgment. The anger and hatred had burned down, there was nothing left of him except ashes. Then he saw something in the light, a tiny figure that came forth and he knew her. “Shera?”
The child grinned and giggled, hugged him and he hugged her back, inhaled the dear scent of the child and he felt safe, at home. “Huna, don’t be afraid, they will help you. They are coming.”
He lifted his face from her hair. “Who?”
She grinned. “The others, other elves, they will help you heal.”
He moaned. “I don’t want to heal, I want to be here, with you, I am safe here am I not?”
She giggled and touched his cheek, her eyes shining. “You cannot stay here Huna, you don’t belong here. We cannot meet again, ever, for my soul went somewhere yours cannot go, but I will remember you. You were kind to us Huna, you would have died for us if that could have saved us. We don’t blame you, live, live for our memory.”
She was suddenly gone and he gasped and screamed. “No, don’t go, don’t leave me, let me follow you, please!”
Then there were commotion of some sort, he heard moans and screams and the clatter of weapons and he knew that someone was there. He felt hands touching him but differently than the others, these hands were gentle, compassionate and he felt that the chains were taken off him. It was too much, he wanted to join Shera again, wanted to go where nothing would hurt him again. He heard his own words but didn’t really understand them and he heard someone gasp and then he was lifted and carried. He just let himself drift off again, he didn’t want to wake up and see that this all was yet another hallucination.

They carried the unconscious ellon out of the house with all the speed they could muster up, the house was silent and they left quietly and dispersed immediately. The elves helped carry the ellon through the village and out into the woods. They ran as fast as they could and Hakon came to them with horses. They rode to the camp and Elladan held the ellon tightly, his horse was strong enough to carry two and the group gathered and left the place in a hurry. The rangers headed back up north to create a false trail if they had anybody tracking them and Aragorn and the elves took the route towards Imladris. They knew that this ellon needed some very skilled healers to be able to overcome the massive traumas he had suffered.
They rode hard through the night and the morning, the elven steeds were faster and more enduring than any breed mankind had created and before midday they were out of the mountains and on their way across the plains. The ellon hadn’t woken up yet but as they crossed a small river he started to stir and groaned and moved. Elladan ordered a full stop and Elrohir and Aragorn pulled the ellon down from the horse and laid him onto the ground so he wouldn’t hurt himself if he came to and did panic.
The elf opened his eyes with a terrifying shriek of sorrow and agony and the two veterans cringed and the younger ellon just stared with huge eyes. He had never heard an elf make such an awful sound before. He tried to sit up but Elladan and Elrohir pushed the elf back and stroked his hair, whispered soothing words to him. The ellon gasped, wriggled, tried to get free from chains that weren’t there anymore and then he slowly appeared to wake up, become aware of his surroundings. The strange golden eyes flickered, got into focus and he yelped when he saw the faces staring back at him. He did see that these were elves except from a man with black hair whom he recognized as one of the three from earlier. He just tried to curl up into a ball, he wasn’t worthy of being around others, they shouldn’t touch him. He shuddered and a blanket was laid around him, it made him feel a little better but his body hurt and he couldn’t believe that this was true. He was out in the open, by a river and it smelled of autumn and nature and horse. He whimpered. “Shera”
It was the last memory he had to cling on to and one of the elves stroked his hair gently, it felt good but he tried to pull away, he was filthy, wouldn’t stain these pure creatures. “Shera? Who is that? “
The voice was soft, filled with warmth and he gasped, struggled but the memories came flooding back. He shook his head, didn’t want to talk but it just seeped out. “They killed her, they strangled her in front of me, I…”
He was unable to say anything more and Elladan and Elrohir stared at each other with huge eyes, Aragorn swore. One of the veterans did kneel in front of the shivering ellon, he smiled and took his hand in a firm but gentle grip. “I am Malagar, I have fought in many wars mellon, and I have seen much evil. Please, tell me what it was that happened? Who was she?”
Huna gasped for air, his throat felt dry and constricted and talking hurt. One of the elves held a leather flask to his lips and he drank without questioning them. It felt wonderful and the taste was awesome, he would have emptied the flask hadn’t the elf pulled it away. “Easy there mellon, that is miruvor and it is rather strong too.”
Whatever it was, it gave him some strength and clarity back and he managed to speak. “Shera, she was a child, they killed them, everybody”
Aragorn frowned. “Not your child I reckon? That would have killed you.”
Huna shook his head. “No, oh no, but I was fond of her. She taught me words, was my friend. Her family took me in, I was hurt and didn’t remember who I was and they were so kind to me, accepted me as one of their own.”
Elladan raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t remember who you were? Do you now?”
Huna shook his head, he was still trembling. “All I have is my name, I think. Huna.”
Elrohir shook his head. “Huna, cursed, Hardly a name at all, where do you come from?”
Huna swallowed. “From the mountains, the family lived in a small valley but some tradesman told the raiders of me and they came and killed everybody because of me, it was all because of me.”
He broke down in tears and sobbed, covered his face with his hands. Elladan and Elrohir had been shocked by his appearance, Elladan had just on pure reflex looked at his right hand just to check if it was there, this ellon looked almost exactly the way he had imagined that the oldest son of Feanor could have looked except from the tales that claimed that Maedhros had to have been even taller than this huge ellon. He was hardly a Feanorian but very unusual in every way and the bright red color of his hair was stunning. They understood why some humans would go to great lengths to be able to control and keep such beauty, but it didn’t make it any less wrong or evil. Aragorn didn’t really know what to say and the twins were shocked, Malagar stared at Huna again, his eyes sad. “I hear you mellon, but it wasn’t because of you, don’t you ever believe that. It was because of evil, because of greed. See?”
Huna squirmed, hot tears flowing down his cheeks and he shook his head. “But if I hadn’t been there the raiders wouldn’t have attacked!”
Malagar shook his head. “No, they wouldn’t have attacked that family but they would have killed some others instead I am sure. We cannot fight destiny mellon, it is impossible.”
Huna just wept and Elladan pulled him into a hug, Huna resisted at first, then he sensed that this touch was different and it was comforting, he didn’t try to fight it, he just let Elladan hold him while he sniffled and wept and let some of the pain be drained from his system. Elrohir made a grimace. “We have to keep going, we should be able to reach back home before night fall, and I think my father may be able to help him deal with some of the problems.”
Huna looked nervous again right away and Elladan patted him on his back. “Worry not, nobody wants to harm you mellon, my father is a healer and very good too. And everybody will welcome you.”
Huna just shivered but didn’t resist as they helped him over to the horses again, he was hoisted up to sit in front of Malagar this time and he sat across the horse so his injuries didn’t get worse. They did ride hard and Malagar held the ellon rather close, he felt that this was a fighter at heart and the warrior felt a burning rage thinking about what those filthy humans had done to him. He sighed and let his horse steer itself, he just held onto the ellon and whispered some soothing words to him. Huna just trembled and his body was stiff. Malagar knew why, as a warrior the possibility of ending up in enemy hands was always present and they had been taught a lot by their teachers, even how one will react to being abused. He stroked the long silky hair and Huna cringed. “Don’t touch, filthy.”
Malagar shook his head. “No, you are not filthy, they were filthy but you aren’t. It wasn’t your fault.”
Huna sobbed. “But…it happened with me too, several times. I…must have liked it then? “
Malagar sighed and squeezed Huna’s hand gently. “No, I am telling you, it was not your fault. Your body tried to defend itself, it can find pleasure even when being forced, it didn’t mean that you wanted them to do it now did it?”
Huna gasped. “I hated it, even those times it felt good, for it hurt again afterwards and…and they wouldn’t stop”
Malagar shook his head. Elrond would have a really hard job with this one, that was for sure. But who was he and where did he really come from? The great height almost made him think of the feanorian family just as Elladan had but they were gone a long time ago. This ellon was a mystery and he was far from out of the woods yet. He would need a long time to recover completely, Malagar just hoped that Elrond would be able to repair the damages to this poor elf’s soul, or else he wouldn’t stand much of a chance when the worst of the memories did return. For return they would, Malagar had fought so many times he had seen it all and this was one thing of which he was completely certain. Your past is that one thing that will follow you to the very end, no matter who you are.
- 2
- 3
- 4
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The fallen one