To Kill An Elf
folder
-Multi-Age › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
7
Views:
3,192
Reviews:
22
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
7
Views:
3,192
Reviews:
22
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 7
Title: To Kill an Elf
Author: Lynsey
Website: http://www.livejournal.com/users/lynsey_schadegg/
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Beta: Spell-check
Chapter: 7/?
Pairings: None yet; Characters include Erestor, Gildor, OMC, Glorfindel, and Elrond
Rating: This chapter NC-17, HEED THE WARNINGS
Warnings: Violence, torture, Bad!Gildor, Angry!Elrond, naughty language, mind rape, and forgive my terrible attempts at elvish.
Summery: No evil deed goes unpunished.
Disclaimer: Don't sue. All I got are college loans, and this isn't
helping to pay them off.
Elrond moved silently down the halls of the Last Homely House, once again headed to the little known section that currently held his prisoners. Sulechil was currently recovering from his questioning in one of the holding cells. As yet, he had said little to the elven Lord, but Elrond had not questioned him either. The young elf was quiet and pliable, doing as he was told and he was rewarded for good behavior. Gildor, however, was not as lucky as his sibling.
Elrond unlocked the dead-bolt on the door of Gildor’s cells and entered. The blond elf was still dangling by his hands and nude. The welts on his body had not been tended or cleansed of the burning paste since Elrond had left the cell five days ago. The only concession Elrond had given the elf was one glass of water each day, simply to keep him alive.
Elrond removed his heavy robes, leaving him dressed in a simple tunic and leggings. He paced slowly around to look Gildor in the eyes. Eyes that had once been blue were now an unhealthy grey and they were drawn with pain. For the fifth time in as many days, Elrond grabbed his captive’s hair and leaned in to press his forehead against Gildor’s.
The blond jerked as Elrond entered his mind abruptly, forcing himself inside. Elrond had wanted so badly for the bastard to know what it was Erestor suffered before he died, but he could not bring himself to rape the wandering warrior, nor could he order someone else to do so.
Therefore, he had gone to the next option: giving Gildor memories of being raped and making him relive them within his mind. When Glorfindel had asked Elrond where he had gotten the memories to give to Gildor, Elrond had simply shrugged. Glorfindel had not liked the answer in the least, but had become quiet on the subject.
Elrond had been a healer for years, and through more battles and strife than he cared to remember he had labored to help the sick and injured in both body and mind. Erestor had not been the first elf he had treated after they had been raped, and he had tried each time to sooth the memories of the victims. It never really worked, but he still tried none-the-less. Each time he did so, he acquired the memories of the victims, whether he wanted to or no. These memories, he shoved brutally into Gildor’s mind for him to relive as if it were actually he that was being raped.
Gildor sobbed as he was forced into the memory Elrond had chosen for this day. This time he was being raped by orcs. Over and over again they took him, and he could have sworn that it was real as he could feel their filthy claws tearing him and their members ripping him up inside. Elrond stepped back and watched as Gildor pleaded with his ‘attackers’ to stop, and he watched as the blond squeezed his legs together tightly even though it would do nothing against a foe that was nothing more than a memory.
Gildor sagged after the memory had been played out and he opened weary, sorrowful eyes to gaze at Elrond.
“Kill me,” he begged, softly, quietly. “Just kill me. Please.”
Elrond advanced upon the quivering elf, who tried to evade him as best he could. He once again forced their foreheads together.
“No, please. Please stop,” pleaded Gildor in a terrified whimper.
Elrond plundered the other elf’s mind, seeking what he did not know. He routed around, feeling the depth of the other elf’s anguish at what he had done. He felt Gildor’s anger at himself and his sorrow for Erestor. Gildor finally felt remorse for what he had done.
But it was too late. Erestor was already lost.
“Now you understand?!” Elrond raged. “Now?! After you have destroyed lives? After you have killed another of your kind through one of the most disgusting deeds imaginable? Now you feel anguish?” Elrond pummeled his captive with his fists, not really doing any damage, just wanting to punch something, anything. “Now? After it is to late?”
“I’m sorry…So sorry…Sorry.”
Elrond dropped to his knees. He was so tired. So tired of this. His heart could not take tormenting the other elf a moment longer. Elves were simply not meant to harm one another, and Elrond’s soul was feeling the heavy burden of hurting one of his own so terribly for so long. He shakily stood, retrieving a small key from his pocket. He reached up and unlocked the shackles on Gildor’s wrists, catching the smaller elf as he collapsed. Grey eyes looked up into molten silver. “I’m so sorry,” Gildor whispered again.
Elrond bowed his head. The elf he held was truly sorry for what he had done, of that Elrond had no doubt after what he had felt in Gildor’s mind.
“Why did you do it?” Elrond sobbed brokenly. “You took my best friend from me. Why did you do it? How could you harm your own kind?”
Gildor opened his mind fully for Elrond, holding nothing back. Elrond looked in on the other elf’s memories of the past years leading up to the day of Erestor’s capture. He saw a chaos of thoughts, and all seemed to come from a distance, as if Gildor himself had simply been a spectator in his own soul. Thoughts that had never crossed the other elf’s mind before now took center stage, angry and terrible thoughts. He had slowly become more unreasonable, punishing elves of his company for the smallest of discrepancies so that his entire contingent feared him. He saw Gildor’s lust deepen and become impossibly strong for any elf of beauty. Including his brother. Elrond saw Gildor force his brother into bedding him, telling Sulechil that if he really loved him, he would lay with him. Sulechil had done as Gildor bid, not wanting to lose the love of his brother, his only family. Elrond saw Gildor scouting, and he saw Gildor looking upon Erestor as he traveled with his company. He saw Gildor’s lust for the dark elf and his need to possess him regardless of the consequences. He saw Gildor break at his own hands here in this room, and he saw Gildor come back to himself in increments, roiling in anguish at what he had done.
Elrond held the sobbing elf in his lap, astounded at what he had just saw. It was as if Gildor was not really Gildor, as if something had taken him over slowly but surely, and then when it seemed Gildor was going to die, that something had left, abandoned the now doomed shell it had inhabited.
“I’m sorry…” the blond choked one last time before he fell into unconsciousness.
“I’m sorry, too,” Elrond whispered as he gathered the lax body to him, heading to the healing wing.
Author: Lynsey
Website: http://www.livejournal.com/users/lynsey_schadegg/
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Beta: Spell-check
Chapter: 7/?
Pairings: None yet; Characters include Erestor, Gildor, OMC, Glorfindel, and Elrond
Rating: This chapter NC-17, HEED THE WARNINGS
Warnings: Violence, torture, Bad!Gildor, Angry!Elrond, naughty language, mind rape, and forgive my terrible attempts at elvish.
Summery: No evil deed goes unpunished.
Disclaimer: Don't sue. All I got are college loans, and this isn't
helping to pay them off.
Elrond moved silently down the halls of the Last Homely House, once again headed to the little known section that currently held his prisoners. Sulechil was currently recovering from his questioning in one of the holding cells. As yet, he had said little to the elven Lord, but Elrond had not questioned him either. The young elf was quiet and pliable, doing as he was told and he was rewarded for good behavior. Gildor, however, was not as lucky as his sibling.
Elrond unlocked the dead-bolt on the door of Gildor’s cells and entered. The blond elf was still dangling by his hands and nude. The welts on his body had not been tended or cleansed of the burning paste since Elrond had left the cell five days ago. The only concession Elrond had given the elf was one glass of water each day, simply to keep him alive.
Elrond removed his heavy robes, leaving him dressed in a simple tunic and leggings. He paced slowly around to look Gildor in the eyes. Eyes that had once been blue were now an unhealthy grey and they were drawn with pain. For the fifth time in as many days, Elrond grabbed his captive’s hair and leaned in to press his forehead against Gildor’s.
The blond jerked as Elrond entered his mind abruptly, forcing himself inside. Elrond had wanted so badly for the bastard to know what it was Erestor suffered before he died, but he could not bring himself to rape the wandering warrior, nor could he order someone else to do so.
Therefore, he had gone to the next option: giving Gildor memories of being raped and making him relive them within his mind. When Glorfindel had asked Elrond where he had gotten the memories to give to Gildor, Elrond had simply shrugged. Glorfindel had not liked the answer in the least, but had become quiet on the subject.
Elrond had been a healer for years, and through more battles and strife than he cared to remember he had labored to help the sick and injured in both body and mind. Erestor had not been the first elf he had treated after they had been raped, and he had tried each time to sooth the memories of the victims. It never really worked, but he still tried none-the-less. Each time he did so, he acquired the memories of the victims, whether he wanted to or no. These memories, he shoved brutally into Gildor’s mind for him to relive as if it were actually he that was being raped.
Gildor sobbed as he was forced into the memory Elrond had chosen for this day. This time he was being raped by orcs. Over and over again they took him, and he could have sworn that it was real as he could feel their filthy claws tearing him and their members ripping him up inside. Elrond stepped back and watched as Gildor pleaded with his ‘attackers’ to stop, and he watched as the blond squeezed his legs together tightly even though it would do nothing against a foe that was nothing more than a memory.
Gildor sagged after the memory had been played out and he opened weary, sorrowful eyes to gaze at Elrond.
“Kill me,” he begged, softly, quietly. “Just kill me. Please.”
Elrond advanced upon the quivering elf, who tried to evade him as best he could. He once again forced their foreheads together.
“No, please. Please stop,” pleaded Gildor in a terrified whimper.
Elrond plundered the other elf’s mind, seeking what he did not know. He routed around, feeling the depth of the other elf’s anguish at what he had done. He felt Gildor’s anger at himself and his sorrow for Erestor. Gildor finally felt remorse for what he had done.
But it was too late. Erestor was already lost.
“Now you understand?!” Elrond raged. “Now?! After you have destroyed lives? After you have killed another of your kind through one of the most disgusting deeds imaginable? Now you feel anguish?” Elrond pummeled his captive with his fists, not really doing any damage, just wanting to punch something, anything. “Now? After it is to late?”
“I’m sorry…So sorry…Sorry.”
Elrond dropped to his knees. He was so tired. So tired of this. His heart could not take tormenting the other elf a moment longer. Elves were simply not meant to harm one another, and Elrond’s soul was feeling the heavy burden of hurting one of his own so terribly for so long. He shakily stood, retrieving a small key from his pocket. He reached up and unlocked the shackles on Gildor’s wrists, catching the smaller elf as he collapsed. Grey eyes looked up into molten silver. “I’m so sorry,” Gildor whispered again.
Elrond bowed his head. The elf he held was truly sorry for what he had done, of that Elrond had no doubt after what he had felt in Gildor’s mind.
“Why did you do it?” Elrond sobbed brokenly. “You took my best friend from me. Why did you do it? How could you harm your own kind?”
Gildor opened his mind fully for Elrond, holding nothing back. Elrond looked in on the other elf’s memories of the past years leading up to the day of Erestor’s capture. He saw a chaos of thoughts, and all seemed to come from a distance, as if Gildor himself had simply been a spectator in his own soul. Thoughts that had never crossed the other elf’s mind before now took center stage, angry and terrible thoughts. He had slowly become more unreasonable, punishing elves of his company for the smallest of discrepancies so that his entire contingent feared him. He saw Gildor’s lust deepen and become impossibly strong for any elf of beauty. Including his brother. Elrond saw Gildor force his brother into bedding him, telling Sulechil that if he really loved him, he would lay with him. Sulechil had done as Gildor bid, not wanting to lose the love of his brother, his only family. Elrond saw Gildor scouting, and he saw Gildor looking upon Erestor as he traveled with his company. He saw Gildor’s lust for the dark elf and his need to possess him regardless of the consequences. He saw Gildor break at his own hands here in this room, and he saw Gildor come back to himself in increments, roiling in anguish at what he had done.
Elrond held the sobbing elf in his lap, astounded at what he had just saw. It was as if Gildor was not really Gildor, as if something had taken him over slowly but surely, and then when it seemed Gildor was going to die, that something had left, abandoned the now doomed shell it had inhabited.
“I’m sorry…” the blond choked one last time before he fell into unconsciousness.
“I’m sorry, too,” Elrond whispered as he gathered the lax body to him, heading to the healing wing.