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Journey Of A Butterfly	By : Mel99Moe Category: -Fourth Age to Modern times and beyond > Het - Male/Female Views: 5714 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or places of Lord of the Rings/Tolkien. No money is being made. This is for personal enjoyment only.

Chapter List
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Chapter 47 - Dangerous Games

Feredir sat in the bar, waiting for the man to return with news of the servant. He watched as a group men came into the bar, looked around and took a seat at a table across from him. One by one, they eyed the stranger. Feredir was becoming uncomfortable with the situation and he didn’t like the feeling he was receiving, but these were nervous men to begin with. The one constant truth for him now was the girl in green. She was easy to read and his eyes followed her body language. Like watching birds or listening to crickets, this girl would give him some kind of warning in her actions. Right now, she did not seem any more fearful than what was normal.

The group of men now scattered to different parts of the tavern, talking with other patrons, but all the while they watched Feredir. The elf decided to take up a safer place and moved to the bar where his back was covered and he could see all points of the tavern. The girl in green went about her business, cleaning and bustling about. When she came close enough to Feredir, he reached out and laid his hand on her arm. She jumped as if he had burned her, but he did not pull away.

“You do not deserve to be treated like this,” he whispered. For some reason, he felt compelled to try to talk to her, find out something about her.

“It is not such a bad life,” she replied as she kept busy wiping the bar top with her rag. “Besides, there are others worse off than me.”

Feredir was sure this was true, but she was such a beautiful young woman and he hated to see how these heathens treated her. He knew what her other purpose was, besides waiting on tables and it hurt him to know that men treated her as a receptacle for their lusts. Still, this was her life and there was nothing he could do to help her now. “So be it then,” he finally answered.

“But thank you for caring,” she said with only a hint of a smile, afraid to show too much interest. She bent down to retrieve a mug from beneath the bar and used the opportunity to talk with him a little longer. “You are not who you seem. Your eyes give you away. I know your kind. I have met them before and seen what my people would do to them. You shouldn’t be here. You must leave.”

Feredir was shocked by her admission and fearful that she would tell one of these Southrons who watched him now. “As I told the man from earlier, I have a master and--”

The girl laughed quietly to herself, interrupting him. “Your kind would not be made into slaves. Your spirit would never allow it. No, you would be broken in a different way, used for pleasure and when your heart was spent and your soul had died, you would be tossed away like trash. Some of the men here look for more than satisfaction from their wives or the whores they keep hidden away, if you get my meaning. And you are much too pretty, too much of a temptation to some of them because you are an elf. You must leave now,” she warned again.

Feredir was surprised that the young woman would risk her life to speak to him and warn him, especially if she knew what he was. “I cannot go until I find this servant and I will only leave once I find him.”

The girl looked around nervously, biting her bottom lip. She seemed to be considering something. “Wait here and I will return in a moment.” With that, the girl picked up her rag and walked out from behind the bar. She started wiping down tables as she made her way to a door towards the back of the room. She was doing a good job of not causing too much of a distraction. The patrons paid her no mind as she fluttered around them. Finally, she glanced around and slipped through the door.

While she was gone, Feredir made a quick scan of the happenings around him. The Southrons he had been watching were still there, blending in with what the elf figured were the locals in town. They still glanced over to him from time to time.

The girl came out of the room where she disappeared to carrying a plate of bread and a bowl of something steaming, stew perhaps. She brought it to Feredir and sat it on the bar next to him. “Pay me for the food and I will tell you where you can find Mazzin.”

Feredir looked at her with surprise. “You know of this slave?” he asked desperately.

“I am not supposed to know, but I cannot help but see what happens around here. Now hurry and pay for this before they suspect something,” she ordered him.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin, flipping it onto the bar. The girl in green took it and slipped it into a pouch hanging from her bare waist. Then she slid the tray of food towards the elf. “Under the bread is a key. Behind the tavern you will find a door. Open it, follow the tunnel and it will lead you to a holding cell. This is where Abdan keeps his merchandise. Your servant is his latest addition, but you must hurry. I think he already has a buyer and he will be here soon to transfer the slave.”

“I cannot leave now. Men watch me knowing I wait for someone to return. If they see me leave the bar, they will become suspicious,” said the elf.

“Leave that to me. I will draw their attention away and you slip out quickly and quietly,” she stated. The girl in green started to move away but Feredir stopped her.

“Wait, why are you doing this?” he asked.

She looked into his silver eyes allowing him to capture her stare for a moment. “I just want to repay the kindness that you showed me.” That said, she walked away.

Feredir watched the young woman walk over to a dirty table and start cleaning the empty mugs and glasses. She bent over very provocatively, teasing some of the men sitting nearby. When one man with a toothless grin reached out and pinched her rear, the girl in green jumped and spun around, slapping him in the face. Instantly the room was in an uproar for no woman was ever to strike out at a Southron man. The elf saw his opportunity, grabbed the key beneath the bread and slipped out the tavern door.

Just as his robes chased around the doorframe and disappeared, the girl in green glanced to one of the men who had been watching Feredir. She gave him a dirty look, but the man just smiled arrogantly and signaled to the others. The one who seemed to be the leader stopped as he passed the young woman, grabbed her by the waist and pulled her to him. He bent his head down as if to kiss her, but the girl turned her head in disgust. The man just laughed. “You did well. Abdan will be pleased with your little act.” He leaned down more to try to capture her lips, but she twisted out of his hold. She had been forced to play a part in the elf’s capture. The girl hated what they made her do, but if she did not go along with their plan, something much worse would have happened to her. This was life in Rhûn, full of seedy men who only used women to their benefit.

“You won’t hurt him will you?” she asked.

“That will be up to him,” the man replied as he watched her brow furrow with worry. “Have a soft spot for him do you? You think he would steal you away with him, take you back to his tree hut or wherever he came from and treat you like a queen? Ha, he cares not what happens now, none of them do. I say they should all pile into one of their boats and rid this world of their nuisance.”

“Yea,” said one of the other men. “And throw a torch on it and watch them all burn.” The other men close by chuckled at the thought.

The leader grabbed the girl by the wrist, squeezing her hard enough to bruise her. “Now get back to work and act like nothing happened. When Abdan gets here, tell him his new merchandise is secured. And if you try anything, I will be glad to show you how I punish those that disobey.” He yanked her arm, pulling her to him and finally captured her lips roughly, making her wince in pain as he crushed his mouth against hers. She cried out, but her sounds were muffled. When the leader released her, he gave her a good push and she stumbled.

The girl in green reluctantly went back to her spot behind the bar and watched the men leave to go follow Feredir behind the tavern. She hated this, had tried to make the elf leave but he was set on finding the slave. She shook her head knowing what would happen next. If there was anything she could do, she would surely do it, but she was helpless.

Feredir found the door behind the tavern and used the key to unlock the latch. It creaked open, the sound echoing into the darkness. He took a torch from the wall, conveniently lit, and started down the long dank tunnel. It seemed to run beneath the tavern and was probably used for smuggling stolen merchandise . . . and slaves. The bar owner seemed to have more going on than just selling food and drink. He was letting illegal traders uses this place to hide their secret stock.

The smell became worse the further into the dark tunnel he went. It was wet and musty, human waste being the predominant odor. The elf pulled his scarf up around his nose and mouth to try to filter the stench. He heard the sound of tiny feet scurrying and looked down to see huge rats running along a metal rail that made its way along the bottom of the wall. He thought that was an odd place for it and wondered what the purpose was.

Feredir cautiously descended down the black rodent infested tunnel when the light of his torch danced upon what seemed like figures sitting on the floor. When he got close enough, he saw that the dark shapes were actually boys and young men, frail looking. There were four, all sitting against the wall with their hands behind their backs. Now Feredir understood the reason for the low rail. Their hands were shackled to the bar. They had no choice but to sit on the cold dirt floor with the rats and filth in nothing but their pants.

The boy closest to the elf looked up, squinting his eyes. The light from the torch was like the blazing sun and he turned his head away to protect his vision. The elf was utterly disgusted with what he found and soon realized that two of the boys looked familiar. He had seen them when he first arrived, as part of the auction. With no buyer, they were once again hidden away in their ghastly seclusion.

They all looked terrified and the elf realized it was because of the clothes he wore. They thought he was a Southron and that he was probably there to hurt them. He knelt down on one knee, holding the torch so they could see his face. “I am not here to hurt you. I am looking for someone, a slave named Mazzin.”

They all shuddered in fear and Feredir unwrapped the scarves from his head, allowing his pointed ears to show. The boys gasped at the sight of an elf, but one spoke to him. “Are you here to help us too?”

Feredir’s heart was breaking. How could he help them when he had other more pressing issues to deal with. “I promise to do what I can to help you, but I must find the one they call Mazzin. It is very important.”

The youngest boy shook his head. “I have never heard of him.” The others next to him shook their heads, but it was the oldest of the boys that spoke next.

“I have heard of him. From what I know, he has been a slave for many years, has gained the trust of the Southrons and that is an added commodity to someone like Abdan. He has tried for many months now to strike a bargain with Mazzin’s master with no luck. My guess is there is someone who wishes to obtain this slave by any means and has hired Abdan to see it done.” The young man paused and looked over the elf carefully. “And here you are looking for the same slave.”

“I am no slave trader,” Feredir said in his own defense. “And I’ve only recently learned of him, but I need to speak to him. He may hold important information that I have been searching for.”

“It must be very important for an elf to risk coming into enemy territory. I’ll tell you what, you help get us out of here and I’ll take you to find him. He may not be there, but it was the last place I know of his whereabouts,” the young man said striking a bargain.

Feredir glanced back at the other youths. They all looked so frightened and the elf’s heart could not stand it. He placed his torch into a sconce on the wall and knelt down to examine the shackles. Feredir shook his head. “I have no tools that I could use. I’ll have to find something and come back.”

Just as he spoke, one of the boys began to mumble. Feredir looked at him and saw his attention drawn down the tunnel towards the way out. It was too dark to see, even for and elf.

“They’re coming,” whispered another boy in desperation.

Feredir’s heart began beating rapidly. He hadn’t expected anyone to come in just yet, but realized he’d spent too much time in the secret tunnel. Now he was trapped with only one way out. His elvish hearing determined the sound of movement, feet shuffling along the dirt floor. He peered towards the entrance. The light coming from the door illuminated the silhouette of three Southrons making their way towards him. Feredir took a protective stance and unsheathed his throwing knives that hung at his side. His hand came up, holding one of his daggers. He took aim and threw the knife. The men scattered as the sound of the metal blade collided with the rock wall. Feredir missed, but he would not miss again. If he could take out just one of them, he was sure he would fight the other two. He raised his second dagger above his head and aimed. Suddenly, there was a sharp pain in his neck, like a bee sting. He reached up and felt a tiny dart protruding from his skin. Instantly he became dizzy and disoriented. He released his dagger, but it did not go far. Feredir reached up and pulled the dart from his neck as he stumbled, using the wall as support. His legs gave out and he fell to the ground.

The three men stopped and waited before going any closer. “Do you think he’s out?” one of them asked.

“He is an elf. I don’t trust that the poison has truly felled yet,” said the other.

“He has not moved. I think he is asleep. We must be going quickly. Abdan is waiting for us,” said a third impatient man. He approached the unmoving elf where he lay on the ground.

The one who seemed to be the leader spoke. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

The third man went up to Feredir and shoved him with his foot. The body seemed lifeless. He turned back to the other two. “See, he’s asleep. Now let’s--.” The man’s feet were knocked out from under him and he fell. Feredir was not completely unconscious, though thoroughly affected by the drug. The elf rose to his feet and punched the man as he stood. They broke into a scuffle, throwing fists at each other. The man landed a couple blows to Feredir’s cheek and jaw, but Feredir’s strength was not gone just yet. The elf’s fists landed into the man’s stomach and face, making the Southron stumble. One last swing and Feredir knocked the man unconscious and he fell to the ground. Then the elf slowly made his way back to his feet, using the wall to stabilize himself.

“I told him he was not out yet,” the leader said to the younger of the three. “Hit him with another dart.”

The young Southron raised his small weapon and with efficient aim, he breathed deep then exhaled quickly sending another dart towards Feredir. It embedded into his neck and he winced from the sting. This time he fell back against the wall, struggling to remain standing, but he slid slowly down the stone until he fell back to the floor.

The two remaining Southrons observed him a moment before the leader spoke. “That should have done it.” They walked up to Feredir who was unconscious now. “Rouse the other while I bind the elf’s hands,” the leader demanded. “Abdan will be waiting for us. Hurry!”
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Journey Of A Butterfly