Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

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
- 37
- 38
- 39
CHAPTER 38: Welcome Home

CHAPTER NOTES

This is now day 13 in the timeline and though it is not the last day of Scarred Fate it is maybe the most important day of this story. And no, that this happens to be exactly the 13th day is mere coincidence and doesn't mean anything, I am not superstitious. Though I have to admit it is a somewhat fitting happenstance ;-)

WARNING: Mild violence. But the next 7 chapters will contain violence in various degrees and it will become rather severe and graphic. I will try to keep the warnings accurate and if such content disturbs you but you want to know what happens nonetheless, there is a detailed timeline chapter at www . lotrfanfiction . com.

SCRIPTS:

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

Erestor felt his stomach contract. He rode next to his husband, his head lowered. All around him the elven warriors smiled: cousins, nephews and friends of his family; They were finally so close now, so close to his uncle's hideout. He knew that it had been built solely for him, solely to keep him safe and hidden from other Elves. For surely someone would recognize the chief advisor of Imladris.

The enlarged caves and their surroundings would be his home, his prison for the rest of his – hopefully short – life.

Unconsciously Erestor urged his horse nearer towards his hervenn, needing someone to ground him, needing the closeness. Fiondil smiled down at the black haired ellon now riding next to him. Erestor was pale and shivered, but he searched his presence, nothing else mattered.

Gently he reached forward and squeezed one of Erestor's shoulders to show his support.

"Hush, pen velui. Do not fight it, just let it happen and I will help you."

"I am trying. But it is hard to cope with a future that I know nothing about."

Fiondil chuckled. "Oh, Erestor! That's how we other feel every day. But don't be afraid: one gets used to it."

Only half an hour later Fiondil guided Erestor's horse onto a small clearing, surrounded by green clad Mirkwood guards. The darkling looked at his captors out of the corner of his eye. This then was their welcoming committee. Erestor had to admit that the 'clan' had grown over the last few centuries. Almost fifty Elves stood there between the trees, eying him curiously.

He could not forbear becoming nervous, suddenly feeling like a child again. Many of the assembled Elves had been there centuries ago when he had been brought low by their scheming, their drugging. When he had been Elethael, a frightened abused youth that desperately wanted to flee from his fate and his visions.

And now they made him feel just like that child again.

Fiondil reached up to help him dismount and immediately caught up on his fear, drawing him against his solid chest. "Don't be afraid. I am here."

"Well, well Elethael; welcome home." A tall ellon with flaxen hair approached them leisurely. He was not a particularly impressive person; not exceptionally beautiful or remarkable in appearance and his body was obviously that of a scholar: a tall, yet thin ellon clad in a dark green robe that made his complexion and hair even fairer than they already were, giving him an almost unhealthy hue.

But he had without a doubt a very charismatic personality with his dark eyes that glistened with cold intelligence. This was Erestor's hated uncle, this was Brandon.

"I must say: you kept us on the go, my dear nephew."

He scanned the assembling warriors. "Where is your husband? Where is my Magron and the other soldiers?"

Fiondil straightened up. "The answer to the first question: I am here. The answer to the second: he is dead, father. His party was unlucky enough to be caught by Orcs, I am afraid that none of them survived."

A shocked silence spread among the Mirkwood Elves. Nearly twenty warriors, sons, brothers, cousins, and friends were dead? In seconds the disbelieve on Brandon's face yielded to an all-consuming rage. With two steps he was at Erestor's side. His hand buried itself in the raven locks and yanking with all his strength he threw the younger darkling to the ground.

A startled and pained yelp escaped Erestor's mouth as he tried to gain his feet and simultaneously prying loose his uncle's bruising grip.

At the same moment several other Elves came running to keep Brandon from hurting the black haired ellon. After all this was not about Brandon, or Magron, nor about Erestor. This was about the gift that the darkling carried, the power of knowing the future, for which the soldiers had died.

"Brandon let him go!"

"Don't hurt him!

"Let go, he will learn his place soon enough!"

But Fiondil was quicker. With calculating precision he punched his father in the side and broke loose the hold that he had on his hervenn. Within seconds he had pushed Erestor behind him and was glaring at Brandon, who lay panting in the foliage.

"You will never touch him again!" he hissed.

Fiondil protectively stood between his father and his husband, intently gazing at the other assembled Elves standing in the clearing or helping up Brandon.

"We knew that Elethael would do everything to save the Noldorin Elves and that Vanya and simultaneously try to get away with it.

We knew we had to be careful but Magron committed one error after another."

The anger in his voice was venomous as he pulled Erestor against his chest, keeping him close.

"I told him we should stay away from the humans, let them attack the Half-Elf and run in the trap that Erestor doubtlessly had planned for them. But nooo *he* had to take half of our men directly over that cave *to observe*. Most of them did not survive the avalanche. A trap that we *knew* Elethael would set up. Those who did survive immediately began to pursue Elethael not even giving a thought as to why he had let some of the humans survive."

Erestor trembled against Fiondil. To hear his plans and deeds spoken of with such cold fury by the men who he now belonged to sent shivers up and down his spine.

And once again he was made aware of the fact that he had killed Elves. The avalanche that he had caused had killed them. Erestor knew that he was a kinslayer and even saving the peredhil could not rid him of this guilt. Hot tears drenched his cousin's coat.

"Sshh, darling. I am here. Do not worry, I will protect you." The blond whispered against the black tresses.

With more self-restraint he continued, his voice calm and full of pain "Elethael let himself be caught by Orcs and the humans and the rest of Magron's men were killed there. He manipulated the Orcs into marching against the men of Angmar.

Elethael nearly died at the hand of those Orcs because we did not have enough men any more to intervene! I do not say that my brother earned to die but he brought it upon himself. I wished he would not have pulled others down with him."

Softly he stroked Erestor's back. "I will get him inside now. He did what we all expected him to do but Magron broke ranks. Come small one."

He steered the darkling towards the cave the other elves somewhat closing in on them but they reached it without interruption. Erestor let out a shuddering breath as they left the hostile group behind and Fiondil squeezed his shoulder for a moment in silent comfort.

The cave's entrance was not very large and both Elves needed to duck down to enter but it immediately widened and opened into a spacious hall.

The walls had been carved and the floor levelled. Pale wooden furniture tried unsuccessfully to lighten the room and carpets lied on the rocky floor and even covered parts of the walls to create a warm atmosphere, numerous torches casting flickering shadows on the stones and furniture. But it was a cave, Erestor thought and it would stay a cave and his prison even if one coated its walls with mithril.

In the back of the cave a partition divided the room, hiding the one place Erestor wanted to avoid at any cost: behind it undoubtedly waited a large bed and probably a bathtub and washbasin.

"We even have broken through the ceiling there" Fiondil pointed to the back of the cave where something like a chimney was embedded in the stones. The blond cocked his head, smiling proudly.

"It can be shut down against the smoke and a rather complex system of funnels was designed by myself to allow 'airing'."

Erestor stood in the middle of the cave quite shaken. Black eyes turned to his husband. "Thank you" he whispered, although he could not bring himself to feel thankful that his hervenn had prepared so much for his captivity.

Fiondil affectionately looked at the darkling in front of him. "Morngaur. I know that this is hard for you. Wolfs need to run free."

The blond stood in front of his hervenn, rubbing his upper arms. One of his hands wandered to his cousins chin, gently raising it so that their eyes met. "One day, my black wolf, we will run together. Would that please you?"

Erestor gasped as his cousin's lips took his. He could feel the other's lust, how Fiondil's imposing body pressed against his. He had promised not to fight this, promised to submit. He felt his stomach turn as the blonde's hands began to roam over his body.

Then suddenly it stopped as Fiondil drew back, grinning as Erestor swayed.

"Let me draw us a bath pen velui."

A wave of relief and dread washed over Erestor, an odd mixture. He was immensely relieved that the other's hands had left his skin but he dreaded to bath with his cousin. The blond would surely use this opportunity well.

Erestor slowly sat down on one of the cushioned arm chairs, observing his husband who was kindling a fire in the fireplace.

"I heard you had established a revolutionary system of water supply in Imladris. Using the pressure of the river to provide water in nearly every room; I am quite impressed, you know?

I have copied some of it. I needed to re-adjust it though. We have changed the direction of one of the smaller streams and now we have a little cistern here."

Fiondil disappeared behind the partition and soon Erestor heard how water splashed into the tub. The moment he came forward again, his smile vanished. There in the cave's entrance stood Brandon dark against the light outside, his posture screaming of fury and unrestrained anger. He had obviously spoken with the other returning warriors.

A long elegant finger pointed at his youngest son, trembling in the effort to stay calm. "You will complete the bond tonight. You will take him and then you will give him his first dose. We will stay outside and keep watch.

Establish that bond! We need it to be alert in case this half elven scum sings out. You should never have let them live."

Brandon turned, his mouth distorted in disgust and grim satisfaction, seeing Erestor hugging himself close.

"Don't be too gentle. Show him what he will get if he defies our wishes."

"We need something to eat first, if you could arrange for something like that." The younger warrior hissed at his father. Brandon nodded and left with angry steps.

Fiondil glared at his father's retreating figure but the moment they were alone he strode towards his husband, cursing his father. Valar, he was trying his best to ease his cousin's nervousness and Brandon had to ruin everything within seconds.

He crouched down before the darkling. "I will never hurt you, Erestor, never. I love you, truly I do. And I won't hurt the twins as soon as they are brought back."

Gently the blond stroke the raven locks, waiting for the tears and tremors to subside.

"I will heat the water now, okay? Come with me, sweet one, I want you close in case my dear father wants to grace us again with his valued presence."

He pulled the other up and guided him behind the partition. As Erestor had correctly guessed there was a bathtub behind it and another partition hid the large bed of which he managed to get a glimpse when they made their way to the tub.

It was a strange basin though: a metal pipe came out at the bottom, disappeared in a basket of iron mesh where it was bent in upward leading loops before it went back into the tub shortly below the rim.

Fiondil watched with amusement as Erestor studied the gadget with curiosity.

"That's brilliant. Did you do that? That would effectively heat the water!"

The blond chuckled. "Thank you for the praises Elethael. Yes, I did that. It's much more comfortable than heating pots of water on an open fire and having to haul them around. It will take some time though until the water is warm enough."

The blond started a fire in the metal basket and turned to Erestor again. "In the meantime we can eat.

Will you give me the honour of dining with me?"

Erestor had to swallow, wishing the other were cruel, forceful - not caring and loving - towards him. "You confuse me: I am yours, there is no need to be charming: I will not fight you."

"You wish to hate me, but deep inside you know that you cannot. We are meant for each other and you will grow to love me just as I love you." Erestor doubted that very much but stayed silent nonetheless. "Come you must be hungry."

While Fiondil had taken care of their bath, someone had brought a tray with bread and stew, even a bowl of fruit salad.

Both Elves sat down opposite of each other and Fiondil began to fill their plates with the hot stew. Erestor's stomach growled and he immediately pressed his hands upon it, trying to suppress the noise. He blushed and smiled apologetically. His husband returned the smile and gestured for him invitingly.

"I promise that the food quality will improve once we settle down a little bit. We did not know when exactly we would return, so it's only stew today."

"That is just fine for me, do not worry."

They ate in silence and it was not long before Erestor noticed that Fiondil had stopped and laid down his fork. The blond had folded his hands and leaned back in his comfortable chair as he was watching him, a small smile playing on his lips.

But Erestor was not yet ready to go on to the next stage of this evening. He swallowed and although he felt more than replete he nervously refilled his plate, desperately clutching at every straw in his reach.

A gentle hand halted his movements and he looked up. "Your stomach will get upset if you continue. You are not hungry anymore, my dear one."

Erestor looked at him with a blank face, but his voice was raw with anxiousness. "We have not yet had desert."

A mischievous smile greeted his objection. "We will take it with us."

The blond stood and extended his hand; hesitantly Erestor took a steadying breath before laying his hand into that of his captor, cousin and husband.

With his other hand Fiondil took the bowl of fruits and then he guided his husband behind the partition again where steam ascended from the hot water.

CHAPTER END NOTES

ellon ~ male elf

hervenn ~ husband

pen velui ~ sweet one

morngaur ~ black wolf
- 37
- 38
- 39
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

Scarred Fate