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Scarred Fate	By : Massanie Category: +Third Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2051 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 29
- 30
- 31
CHAPTER 30: Mind Games

CHAPTER NOTES

SCRIPTS:

'Thoughts'; ~visions~; **mind speech**; -l-Letters-l-

Elrohír rested in his brother's arms, shivering from the pain that originated from his broken arm and leg injury and coursed through his body like liquid acid. They had forced him to go on for the whole last day and most time of the night, too, and the agony from his injuries was driving him insane.

He pressed further into his sleeping brother's chest and felt Elladan's arms tighten around him unconsciously. His twin had tried to help him, had supported him, but still Elrohír knew not if he could go on for another day like that. But if he didn't ...

Forcing his thoughts into another direction the younger twin looked east towards the sun that was slowly rising before him, bathing them in the silvery light of a new day.

And down there lay Mirkwood, dark and sinister. Funny ... it had not seemed to him like that when he had last seen it, merely a week ago when they had left behind the plain to cross the Misty Mountains.

And soon they would reach that plain again – a journey of two hours, if he guessed correctly; then at least they would not have to climb any further.

Suddenly a quiet murmur disturbed his musings and he looked to where Erestor sat in a more or less upright position, held by that blond monster in a manner that would support his breathing. The cockatrice had not allowed Elladan or him to do that and more and more Elrohír got the disturbing feeling that he knew why; the way the other stroked Erestor's black tresses and every now and then planted a soft kiss on his shoulder or head was more than enough to tell him that.

Despite his growing disgust Elrohír kept his face neutral as he thought of a way to stop the molesting and not endanger himself or Elladan. Calmer and more considerate than his brother would have managed he addressed the blonde. "You should let him sleep."

Steel-blue, cold eyes locked with his and Elrohír could see a dangerous sparkle glowing within the pale orbs as the undoubtedly brilliant mind focused all its capacities on himself. Still the cockatrice continued to nuzzle the black tresses with a chilling half-smile, ignoring Elrohír's comment; he seemed so smug, so confident of victory that the younger twin immediately wondered over the malice causing such vile elation.

And indeed he didn't have to wait long for the dagger stab, a dagger stab in the form of a seemingly simple but fatal question: "Why are you here?"

For a terribly long moment Elrohír felt frozen and all logic thoughts fled his mind.

The cockatrice's smile widened. "I mean: Why have you followed my Elethael instead of returning to Imladris with your injured father like a good son?"

'Oh, damn!' Why had he roused the cockatrice's attention? Why hadn't he stayed quiet? Elrohír desperately hoped that his efforts to keep his face calm were not as futile as they seemed to him while he pulled himself together and concentrated on one essential question: what did the blonde know; about what could he lie to him and what could he keep secret.

With his gaze still trained on the prince of Imladris, the blond tilted Erestor's head to plant a kiss on the corner of his mouth, causing the dark haired ellon to knit his brow. "Did you hear me, my prince?"

He couldn't tell him of the letters Erestor had written or else the kidnapper would know that his identity was a secret no more and that the lords of Imladris and Lóriën and soon Greenwood, too, were taking extreme measures to find Erestor. And how was he to explain Landroval's presence?

And then a thought came to his mind: Vilya. The cockatrice could surely not know that Erestor had sent their father's ring back or else he would have been very close to either Erestor or the place where they had met Glorfindel; but both scenarios were not very likely: the first because the cockatrice then would have gotten to Erestor before the Orcs had and the second because Glorfindel's soldiers would not have overlooked a dozen elves when they were that close.

With a daring lie he could maybe fool that smart devil, a lie and a considerable amount of acting skills.

Narrowing his eyes slightly, the younger twin regarded his captor as if trying to assess him. "For the same reason as you."

For a second the blonde looked bewildered as he undoubtedly asked himself if Elrohír knew of Erestor's dreams, and with Elrohír Elrond, and with Elrond the other rulers of the elven kingdoms and if they knew ...

But then the uncertainty was hidden under a well controlled mask, a mask that was so similar and yet so unlike to the one Erestor had always used. A false smile spread upon the cockatrice's face as he cocked his head. "And what would that be?"

Now it was Elrohír's time to feign ignorance. "Vilya, of course." He said with as much disgust as he could muster, as if he thought that the other was taking him for a fool instead of testing his knowledge.

A loud laugh broke from the blonde's lips in pure relief and amusement: the Imladrian elves were clueless.

"Vilya, you think I wanted Vilya?"

Elrohír frowned in feigned confusion while in fact he was no lesser relieved than the blonde in front of him.

"But ... but of course! First you tried to take it from my father with the help of those humans and then when Erestor stole it you chased him!"

"Oh, this is rich!"

"I wouldn't say that one of the three elven rings falling into orcish hands was rich!"

"What makes you think the Orcs have it?"

"Well, Erestor obviously hadn't got it when Landroval found him between those Orcs and now they are gathering for an attack. I don't know but for me it certainly looks like they have it!"

"I assure you that neither do those Orcs have your father's ring nor do I want it."

'Victory!' Elrohír couldn't believe that it had been that easy but after all the blonde was maybe just readily believing the only explanation that would not lead to his downfall.

"But then, why ...?"

"Elethael, of course! You have no idea what treasure was hidden in your precious Imladris."

He paused for a moment, looking down to the black shock of hair resting against his chest. "Anyway, it is time to wake up!"

And while the cockatrice started to rouse the ellon in his arms with gentle touches and strokes Elrohír used the opportunity to wake his brother and tell him of the lies he had fed the cockatrice so that Elladan would not accidentally blow their cover.

An hour later Elladan had treated his two patients and the group was ending their humble breakfast in silence when the twins witnessed an open dispute between their kidnappers; the first real conversation aside from short exchanges of words since their capture.

There had been tensions between the masked elves since Erestor's first awakening although they were determined to not show its nature in front of their Noldor kin and that determination had resulted in a taut silence that had seemed unbreakable ... until now.

The cockatrice had again taken up his position behind Erestor, supporting him and feeding him softened elfish bread; although the advisor's state had considerably improved (much to Elladan's astonishment), his broken fingers made it impossible to eat without help. The loving gestures the blonde bestowed on the younger darkling were frowned upon by most of his comrades but either he did not notice or he chose to ignore that fact. And the rest of the Silvan elves became troubled by the growing discontent and it was one of those who spoke up, a tall, lean ellon with flaxen hair.

"We cannot afford to tarry. Ask him now."

Curiously, Elladan and Elrohír watched as the cockatrice shot a deadly glare at the speaker. "He is still weak ..."

To the twins it almost seemed preposterous but still Erestor seemed to press back into his cousin's back as if trying to hide; the unyielding, haughty chief advisor of Imladris hiding behind his very tormentor like a frightened fawn.

"Weak? Elethael is strong enough to eat and drink and to answer a few questions."

Privately, Elladan thought the ellon was right. When he had examined Erestor earlier he had been astonished to find the bruises already becoming yellowish; the burn marks had stopped oozing and the tissue surrounding his broken limbs had detumesced quite a bit. Although he would never tell their kidnappers – Erestor was indeed able to answer questions.

"We need to know where they are! Soon we'll be in the camp and we cannot tarry there now that the princes of Imladris are with us!"

Once again the cockatrice glared at everybody around before he gently brushed Erestor's cheek. "Very well. Elethael, look at me!"

But Erestor wouldn't and so the cockatrice continued with a sigh. "Then listen: Where is my brother, Elethael? Where is he, hmm?"

Frowning, Elladan observed the scene with a queasy feeling. Erestor seemed troubled, scared almost and hesitant to answer the question; he only shook his head and looked up to his cousin as if awaiting a blow.

But the blonde only narrowed his eyes, already suspecting the answer. "Where, Elethael? In two hours we'll reach a camp where horses are waiting for us; will he come?"

For some moments the almost hostile silence and tension between the elves grew until Erestor's whisper broke it. "He won't. My husband is dead, they all are."

A shocked murmur rouse, subliminal at first than rising, gaining in anger, surrounding threateningly so that Erestor once again cowered into the protecting arms of his cousin as well as he could in his battered state.

** Oh by Elbereth, Elladan! They forced him into a marriage ... he was not even of age when he left for Imladris! ** Shocked, Elrohír observed how Erestor's cousin took the advisor's chin between his fingers and forced him to look into his face. "How, Elethael?"

"Half of them were buried under the avalanche ... they were too close ... the others blindly followed me with some of the humans and when we ... when we encountered Orcs, they ... I made them think I was an ambassador and my pursuers were my guard ... I told them that Imladris and Angmar had joined forces against them ..."

Regret and fear resonated in the small voice but then Erestor looked defiantly up, his dark eyes blackening dangerously. "The Orcs will dispose of your human army, cousin!"

"And the Orcs killed them all? Why didn't they kill you?"

"I made clear that I was the leader when we were attacked ... so they killed the others and ... questioned me ... "

"*You* killed them, Elethael!" One of the Silvan elves all but shouted, making Erestor cringe.

"Shut up!" the cockatrice hissed venomously. "Did you think he would watch how those humans killed his lord and raided his home? Did you think he would not defend himself?"

"I did not want them to die." Erestor cried with a choked voice, hot tears streaming down his cheeks. "But you left me no time! No time and I ... I had to do something ... You would have killed them! You would have murdered dozens of elves!"

"It would not have happened if you had not run away, Elethael." The cockatrice gently reprimanded, smiling as Erestor's tear-filled, unbelieving eyes focused on him. "I told you once that your actions have consequences. But it does not help to linger in the past, don't you think so, dearest?"

A dangerous smile lit the cockatrice's face as he looked down to the darkling in his arms, stroking his pale cheek. "So, Elethael. Will you behave now and promise to tell us of your visions?"

Shaking his head, Erestor pleadingly looked up. "Don't, please don't ..."

"Will you?"

A sob escaped Erestor's lips. "I cannot, you know I cannot. Don't do this!"

The cockatrice smiled as he rubbed the darkling's cheek with one thumb. "Then you leave me no choice." But it did not seem as if he was aggrieved by that at all.

"Leave him alone!" Elladan called up from his place at his brother's side, breaking from the shocked daze that had taken hold of him. He had promised to protect the young ellon and even though he knew he could not change anything at the moment he could not just sit there and watch the cockatrice torment his father's chief advisor.

He had never seen Erestor cry before.

"Erestor just tell them what they want to know. It's not worth it!" And he was sure of that; whatever it was the cockatrice wanted from Erestor, keeping silent was not worth risking it.

The blonde's cold eyes lingered on the elder peredhil twin for some moments with a cold, haughty stare, that was meant to put him in his place and did not fail to have the desired effect; the ominous sparkle in his eyes, framed by the black cloth of his mask sent shivers down Elladan's spine and he instinctively tightened the hold onto his brother.

Not looking away from Elladan, the blonde leaned down to Erestor, his gentle voice caressing an elegantly pointed ear.

"Marry me, pen velui!"

Elladan wanted to shout at the devilish monster, wanted to thrust his cruelty back into his throat until he would choke on it, as he saw Erestor close his eyes in desperation but those eyes, those steely eyes kept him frozen in his place; and the voice of his twin.

** Don't brother! We can't do anything.**

"Bond with me, my beautiful one, and I will not harm the princes." Smirking the cockatrice bestowed a kiss on the black shock of hair, obviously enjoying the power he held over his captive.

** Our father will find us in time. **

** And if not? **

** Ada will come. Have faith, Elladan! **

But then the cockatrice whispered into Erestor's ear and Erestor looked up to the twins, his face – swollen from tears and marred by bruises – finally becoming the stone mask again.

** I can't. If his healing continues with this rate, he'll be able to walk within some days.** And soon after he would be able to bond.

Shocked, Elrohír looked at his brother and then again to Erestor and the cockatrice, helplessly watching as Erestor doomed himself.

CHAPTER END NOTES

ellon ~ male elf

peredhil ~ half elves

pen velui ~ sweet one

ada ~ father
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