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Scarred Fate	By : Massanie Category: +Third Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2052 -:- 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
- 42
- 43
- 44
CHAPTER 43: Screams In The Dark

CHAPTER NOTES

WARNING: OK, I think after the last chapters, especially Rage, this one doesn't really need a warning, but still a part of it starts where Rage left off, so some might find the situation somewhat disturbing.

So, here we go...

SCRIPTS:

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

Glorfindel felt the young guard behind him. Tauron had proven to be loyal and smart, so he had kept him close during their journey and chosen him to rely on now, while following the blond Mirkwood soldier through the dense undergrowth of this darkest forest.

Silently they tracked him down, an easy task as the soldier was more intent on quickness than on inconspicuousness now that he had left the outpost behind; besides: he was using a small trail that looked like a deer crossing at first but was in fact a well concealed elven path.

** Glorfindel, where are you? **

Elrond. His husband seemed excited somehow, he could feel the roiling emotions cursing through his mind as it came in contact with his other half.

** I'm following a guard. **

** We are lead south-east to Erestor. **

** Then I am, too. This guard is probably trying to warn Erestor's captors. **

Then suddenly Glorfindel halted; at his side Tauron directed huge alarmed eyes at him, filled with a question the answer they both dreaded.

Through their link, Elrond felt that something was horribly wrong.

** Glorfindel? What happened? **

** I heard him scream, Elrond. Erestor, I heard him scream, but he is still too far away. **

Ten or fifteen minutes at least, the scream had been faint, he had almost not heard it, but still: it had been Erestor and he had been in pain.

** Oh Valar, Glorfindel! He is with his hervenn in their private quarters! Hurry, love, be quick! I am following as fast as possible! **

Tauron looked at his captain. The golden haired balrog slayer had gone frighteningly calm.

They had heard a scream, the advisor's scream he guessed. Lord Glorfindel's open face had mirrored his own shock, his own dark anticipation. But then it had changed within a second to an expression of dangerous, calm determination.

The fabled lord of old had become that elf he had been in times long forgotten: the one that had stepped in the way of a fire demon, a mighty balrog, the one that had faced death only to come back stronger … the one that one would be wise not to meddle with.

'And the one I am stuck with, lucky me!' The young guard thought.

"Quickly, Tauron. Follow me!"

For the last two hours Elladan and Elrohír had stumbled through the dark forest, not even knowing if they searched in the right direction. They had not seen any patrolling guards so far but that did not necessarily mean there were none. And there were many paths leading from the camp, how should they know which one would lead them to Erestor?

** Elladan, this is ... hopeless. We are losing precious time while that cockatrice is about to or already raping Erestor. **

Suppressing an angered sigh, the elder twin turned to his brother. ** And what do you propose we do? **

Elrohír bit his lip and turned his head. ** I don't know, gwanunig. But we are getting nowhere with this blind search. **

Frustrated, the younger twin looked around. ** Maybe we should turn back to the camp and see if we find something. This Aereth seemed to be quite upset, maybe she'd help us ... **

** And maybe she will give us away. **

For some moments a taut silence spread between the two of them. Then at the very same moment, both twins turned to look at each other with a horrified expression. "A Elbereth!"

There had been a faint scream, shrill and agonized. It seemed the distant, horrible sound had slain all other noises and everything was oppressively silent.

"Was that ... " Elrohír whispered, although he knew the answer.

"Damn it, Elrohír! We need to find him. Come on!"

And with that the elder twin vanished into the bushes into the direction that the scream had come from.

Fiondil immediately hurried to the bathroom, putting on his outworn trousers. If one of his family disturbed him now, they were in dire straits.

Erestor whimpered as his cousin left him exposed and vulnerable, tied to the bed. His wrists were raw and sore from the tight linen bonds around them and now that the continued stimulation had ceased the burning pain in his lower body surfaced again.

He closed his eyes, humiliated at the thought how he must look, spread wide upon the bed, blood clinging to his abdomen and thighs.

Somehow he wished his cousin would return and end the torment he had begun. There was no way now that he would give in and the next few hours would probably be filled with a pain that in its nature would be so much more horrible than what he had had to endure from the Orcs' hands. Crueller, more intimate.

And now one of his blasted family was even drawing out his torment ... he only hoped that Brandon was not returning. He could not bear to be mocked now by his uncle, not in his current state. But somehow the hushed voice had not sounded like his hated uncle.

"Fiondil, it's me, Annael. Elrond is here!"

Erestor gasped, his head starting to reel. Elrond – Valar, that meant possible rescue. His breathing quickened.

"Take Elethael and bring him out, they must have heard his scream and will be here soon!"

Fiondil looked to his husband lying on the bed in the adjoining part of the room, his husband who was looking at him with a mixture of fear and hope. They had made provision against such a case, but now they seemed inadequate to him. He alone could not get Elethael into safety as planned; no, he would need help to keep his freedom-loving husband in check.

"Annael, you have to come with me. Cut him free and make him dress." He would get his weapons and clothes.

Erestor looked into his husband's eyes, begging him silently to not let Annael see him like this, but a moment later he saw Fiondil's best friend round the partition, a small knife in his hands. The blonde swallowed a little bit taken aback at what he saw on the bed although the dark ellon was not absolutely sure if the revulsion he saw on Annael's face was because of how he felt for his friend's husband or because of how the darkling was positioned on the bed.

Narrowing his eyes, the blond cut first the ties on Erestor's ankles, then on his wrists. Immediately the black haired advisor drew his legs close and sat up, facing away from his captor until a gentle touch on his shoulder made him turn around. There stood Annael, a sad and empathetic look in his warm blue eyes.

"Come on, young one, get dressed, okay? Don't make this harder than it has to be."

Unbidden tears ran down Erestor's face. Valar, he hated how sentimental he had become but it was just too much, everything was just too much: Brandon, once again being made aware of the kinslaying on the Misty Mountain he had caused, his husband violating him, Elrond being here, coming for his rescue and he being forced to flee from his rescuers. And all this in one damned day.

In this moment Fiondil tiptoed forth from behind the partition, now fully dressed. One hand rested on the hilt of his long knifes to keep them from rattling, the other hand was raised, one finger laid to his lips, indicating Annael to be quiet and to silence the darkling that sat on the bed with his back towards Fiondil.

Annael immediately caught on and pressed one hand to Erestor's mouth to keep him from crying out, quickly turning the naked ellon around and drawing him against his chest. But in his already shaken state, Erestor immediately panicked and the moment he was grabbed, he started to fight against the restricting arms, kicking at everything in his reach, including the partition.

With a loud clang it fell to the rocky floor, revealing the cave's entrance and – standing right in front of it – the tall, frighteningly impressive figure of a very angry, very determined balrog slayer and the slightly smaller frame of another Imladrian soldier.

For the shortest part of a moment, the world around Erestor stopped turning.

The last time he had seen this handsome, beloved face had been when Glorfindel had sent him home, following the ruse that should have ended the advisor's life and save the seneschal ... the blonde had been so angry. Valar this seemed to be ages ago. And now this anger was directed at the two Mirkwood soldiers holding him captive.

In the meantime Fiondil had hurried to the cave wall behind the large bed and pulling at a small lever he opened the hidden door to an escape tunnel. At the same time Annael had taken Erestor up into his arms, using the opportunity as the darkling had stopped fighting for some moments.

"Let him go!" Glorfindel growled and drew his bow, training it at the blond ellon that held the chief advisor close. He could see the hope in Erestor's eyes, pleading with him to end this nightmare, to free him, save him. But something held him back even as he saw how his protégé was being abducted once again into that black gaping hole in the cave's wall.

He bended the bow a little bit further, knitting his brow in frustration. The darkling's eyes locked with his for one last moment and he could see his own realisation mirrored there: He could not slay one of his kin, could not draw a weapon against one of his own with the intention to kill.

A desperate, shrill scream wrested itself from Erestor's throat, echoing in the cave even after the two Mirkwood elves had pulled him from Glorfindel's field of vision. "GLORFINDEL!"

In the very same moment Tauron and the captain sprinted forward, trying to reach the escape tunnel before it could be closed. But it was too late: the stony door had already fallen into place again, blending in with the cave's wall.

Tauron immediately stemmed his weight against the wall but it did not yield.

"That won't work." Glorfindel crouched down, searching for the lever that this Mirkwood plagues had used. He stumbled for a moment, noticing that he had used Erestor's nickname for his captors.

Finding it, he pulled, pressed and tried to turn it but the door would not open.

"Maybe it can only be opened from the inside once this lever has been used." Tauron pointed out, biting his lips.

Glorfindel cursed. What they had feared had become reality: Erestor was being abducted into the thick undergrowth of Mirkwood by one who knew the surroundings while Glorfindel and his men would stumble helplessly through that blasted forest.

** Glorfindel, what caused this scream? **

** It was Erestor. They fled through an escape tunnel, but it won't open to us ... quickly: ask your guide if there is a way through. Or else we'll lose him. **

For some gruelling long seconds there was only silence, but then he could feel Elrond's attention focusing on him again, his excitement flowing through their link.

** There has to be a second one below the bed, try this one. We'll be taking a shortcut directly to the exit of the escape tunnel. I'll be there in ten minutes. **

Then Elrond retreated and Glorfindel crouched down, groping around below the bed and soon his fingers encountered a small jut in the wall at the head of the large bed and pulled. Immediately there was a low abrading sound as the stone door of the tunnel ground against the floor.

Glorfindel stood and turned to Tauron, who was standing beside the bed, looking at the light blue bed linen with a stony face. "There is blood." He informed his captain with a strangely emotionless voice. And indeed there was a smear of dark red on the middle of the bed and shreds of linen still clung to the posts. Erestor had been bound and raped. And so the bond had obviously been completed, lord Erestor of Rivendell was now bound to his cousin in front of the Valar and Eru.

The captain laid a hand on the young soldier's shoulder. "Let's hunt those demons down!"

CHAPTER END NOTES

ellon ~ male elf
- 42
- 43
- 44
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