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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
- 35
- 36
- 37
CHAPTER 36: The Mad Scene 2

CHAPTER NOTES

SCRIPTS:

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

Minutes passed, but it could have been an eternity as the Mirkwood elves still stood in a loose circle around Erestor, every muscle tense.

"They are gone, now, Elethael. Lay it down!" the cockatrice addressed his mate, his voice still soothing as if speaking to a spooked animal.

Erestor stayed silent, contemplating the situation. This was his one escape chance; he wouldn't get another. He could escape to Mandos' halls once and for all or he could stay with his husband, with Fiondil.

"I never said I would." He said, hoping his voice would sound cool and aloof. Somewhere out there Elrond and Glorfindel were searching for him, trying to save him.

He pressed the knife against his throat, drawing more blood even as his breathing hitched traitorously. Erestor was afraid of this kind of death and immediately Dírhael came to his mind, his adoptive father who had died choking on his own blood.

"Elethael!" Fiondil growled and took a step towards his husband.

"Stay away! I will kill myself!" Erestor hoped that his voice did not sound as trembling and insecure as it did to him.

'you wanted to die! Do it!' He told himself.

The hand holding the long Mirkwood knife started to shake visibly now. Could he really take his own life? All those years he had known that he would die, wished his misery would finally end. 'Do it! Coward!'

A sob escaped his trembling lips.

Fiondil saw tears running down his cousin's face and in that very moment he knew that Erestor would – could – not do it.

~He sidestepped his cousin, inflicting a superficial cut to his back just as Fiondil passed him. Immediately the blond turned and raised his arm to attack again. A small smile showed on Erestor's face as he swung his knife to counter his husband's weapon. He loosened the grip on his knife and as his cousin inflicted the next blow he let the weapon knock his own out of his hand, let it come down on him without trying to stop the blow.

The blade cut deeply into his chest, ripping it open.

There was a scream; he did not know where it came from. Just as he sank to the ground, Fiondil let go of his blade, a horrified expression marring his face.~

"You do not want to die, love. Let go of the knife."Fiondil stepped closer and raised one steady hand to reach for the weapon, searching Erestor's gaze. There was a gleam there, a sudden serenity.

"You are right: I would rather live ... but not like this. I want to fight with you, Fiondil! Now!" He could not kill himself ... but there was still Fiondil to take that task and as Fiondil would never survive killing his precious Elethael ... this would literally kill two birds with one stone.

The elves around them gasped. "No! Don't!" An ellon called out.

"I am not the frightened youth that ran away centuries ago. I have learned to fight. My will and endurance have grown. I am superior now, cousin. And I will not let myself be enslaved again." He called to Fiondil with hate and disgust, knowing it to be a lie: Fiondil was stronger and he was still healing; there was just no chance for him to win.

"Raise your knife and best me now or I will kill myself! If you win, I will be yours willingly, as long as you are not overly cruel; but if I win, you will let me go and I promise to never breathe a word of what you did."

Fiondil approached slowly, his face indifferent. But he heard the centuries of hate, rage and vindictiveness that had built up in his hervenn.

He drew his other knife. "I always loved you, Elethael. I only wished you could see that."

"If you loved me, you would never have kidnapped me, threatened those I care about."

The blond narrowed his eyes. "You are wrong. It is because I cannot be without you, that I did all that. Four long centuries I yearned to have you in my arms again."

"Stop it, the two of you. This will end in blood and death." Another ellon tried, but they were careful not to get too close to Erestor. The darkling would make true on his threat and cut his own throat.

"Not if he beats me. Come on *husband of mine*" he sneered "This is your only chance to get what you desire."

Fiondil let the knife rotate in his hand and attacked with an indifferent expression. He did not want to injure his husband in any way, especially since Erestor was still recovering and his movements were directed to these tactics: Instead of attacking in earnest, he only blocked Erestor's furious blows and tried to exhaust his opponent.

Erestor attacked with such velocity and strength that Fiondil was taken aback however. The darkling was well-trained and a good fighter even though he was still recovering from his numerous injuries. Erestor managed to drive his cousin back and the blond realised that he had underestimated his husband severely.

Erestor leaped forward, bending his lithe form and thrust his knife upwards. Fiondil turned sideways and tried to get his knife to block the stab in time, but he did not quite succeed, the blade sliding along his ribcage, cutting not deep, but deep enough to hurt.

Fiondil heard the gasps and hisses of his family but did not pay them any attention. Damn, he would have to attack harder. If he kept back any longer the advisor might just manage to kill him in his rage.

With a series of hard blows the blond ellon drove his black haired opponent back, the younger elf gasping in obvious pain as he had to fend off the strokes. The injuries in his shoulder and abdomen were throbbing painfully under the onslaught.

But then he sidestepped his cousin, inflicting another cut to his back, when Fiondil passed him. The blond turned and raised his arm to attack again. Erestor swung his weapon to counter his cousin's knife, the blow easy to parry.

Just in time Fiondil felt that something was wrong. Erestor's eyes sparkled in triumph and over the weak bond he shared with his husband he could feel his expectant state and suddenly he understood. Erestor wanted to die, but as he could not do it himself he wanted *him* to kill him. The raised arm did not hold up the weapon to dodge his blow, but to fall down and let his knife pierce him. Erestor's hand only loosely held the long Mirkwood knife.

Fiondil let his knife descend onto that of his cousin, but more sideways than he had intended at first. There was a metallic thud when the weapons made contact and Erestor's knife was brutally knocked from his loose grasp.

Erestor tumbled backwards, cradling his hurting right wrist, his large eyes fearfully staring at his husband.

The Mirkwood Elves cheered as Fiondil predatorily approached his hervenn.

Erestor knew he had crossed the lines, he had gone too far. His cousin would punish him for his defiance. Shivering he lowered his gaze, falling to his knees as exhaustion claimed him.

He was surprised when his cousin went down on his knees before him and pulled him on his lap.

"That hurts, Elethael."

Erestor was pretty sure that he didn't mean the two cuts he had inflicted on him.

"You wanted me to kill you."

Erestor felt confused. "I don't know ... I saw this happening. I don't know what is different. You should have killed me, I saw it happening."

Comfortingly the blond stroked the black tresses as he guided his husband's head to rest on his shoulder.

"When? When did you first foresee me taking your life?"

Erestor's voice seemed muffled because he had still buried his face in his husband's chest. "When I had this overdose around my 41st birthday."

Fiondil smiled sadly. So this was the reason why his Elethael had betrayed him.

He had wanted to flee with his beloved after the darkling had been forced to marry Magron. He had been hurt and furious when the youngster had tricked him and fled without him.

But now it seemed that Erestor just had been afraid to die because he had seen him ending his life. After all *he* would never flee with one he thought would kill him some day. All hope was not lost then. He would get Elethael to love him.

"You are mine now, Elethael. I would never take your life." The blond cooed in the advisor's ears.

Starting to sob, Erestor tried to stand, to get away from the restrictive arms that held him close, but the blond was stronger and did not let go even when Erestor started to pummel him.

The other Mirkwood Elves drew nearer, hesitantly, seeing Erestor's breakdown. But both fighters were injured and needed medical attention.

Slowly Erestor stilled in his cousin's arms, quiet sobs leaving him as he slumped forward, emotionally and physically drained.

"Are you alright, Fiondil? We should see to those cuts."

"I am fine, thank you Annael; although they should probably be bandaged properly, as well as Elethael's throat."

Fiondil stood, scooped up Erestor in his arms and carried him back to their camp.

"I understand that you are confused and afraid, therefore I will not punish you ... this time. But if you ever attack me again, in whatever way, I will kill that captain who helped you betray your family and brought you to those Noldor."

Gently he laid the darkling down on one of the sleeping mats, ignoring the hate-filled eyes that bored into him.

"Besides: I have won, my beautiful darkling, meaning you have to keep your word and become mine, hroa and fae." Fiondil grinned as he kissed his husband.

Erestor closed his eyes. Oh he was going to be sick.

Why couldn't he just be dead? Why had the future changed? What was different?

But somehow the future was not what he had thought it to be anymore, his gift had failed him: His rescue at the hands or rather the claws of the great eagle should not have happened and the twins should not have been there either.

What he had thought to be his fate, unbreakable, unalterable, had not come to pass. He had not died when he should have. Now he was damned to a life of imprisonment, a loveless marriage.

And suddenly he asked himself the question that had not arisen the past centuries: could he have saved himself? If he had told the others what was about to happen, told Elrond or Glorfindel ... would they have been able to save him?

'Ha, self-pity will get you nowhere, Erestor. Everyone is the architect of his own future. You designed your own!'

He only hoped that Elladan and Elrohír were alright.

As if feeling his husband's line of thoughts, Fiondil kissed him once again and stood. "I will need to send some guards after your princes. I cannot allow them to return home."

Pushing himself up Erestor grasped his husband's trousers, pleadingly looking up into the steel blue eyes. "Saes, Fiondil."

Leaning down, Fiondil laid a finger over Erestor's quivering lips. "Hush, sweet one. They will do their best to get them alive."

Then he turned to his comrades. "Hunt them down!"

** Damn it, Elladan. Can we not slow down? **Elrohír's broken arm throbbed maddeningly with each jump, each jolt, and the injured leg he pressed around the horses flanks did not fare any better. The poor mare carrying him had long caught up on his pain and wanted to slow down and alleviate his agony, as did Elrohír.

Looking back, Elladan shook his head. ** They will follow us, toren. We need to get out of sight and then we need to hide. **

Biting his lower lip, Elladan fixed his gaze on his brother. The question was if Elrohír was able to do what he needed him to do.

** They will follow not our tracks, but the horses'. We need to reach the river, let the horses continue on their own and return to follow the cockatrice. Come on, the river cannot be far! **Only the evening before they had left the Great River behind.

A torturous hour later, the horses' hooves splashed into the water and Elrohír gladly steadied his brown mare and bowed his head in an attempt to get the pain and his laboured breathing under control again.

He only looked up as he felt an arm around his hip, pulling him gently from the beast's back and into the knee-deep water. ** Come, Elrohír. We need to get upstream. Wait a moment. **

Rushing to the horses, Elladan took off the saddle backs and quietly told them to head south to where the Woodland elves were guarding the River. Then he was at his brother's side again, taking his arm and laying it around his shoulder.

** Let's go, brother, we need to hide in the river until they pass us. **

** I am so going to kill you for what you are putting me through. **

** All right, but let us postpone that until after we freed Erestor. **

Elladan answered absentmindedly while he steered Elrohír further into the stream until they were waist deep in the cold water. Hunching down and pulling his twin with him, Elladan started to fight against the strong current, step by step walking upstream.

CHAPTER END NOTES

ellon ~ male elf

hroa ~ body

fae ~ spirit

toren ~ my brother
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Scarred Fate