Adult-FanFiction.org : Lord of the Rings

Unanswered prayers	By : Nuredhel Category: -Multi-Age > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 2298 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, it belongs to Tolkien, and i do not earn any money from this work of fiction, it is solely written for entertainment and not for profit at all.I do not own Lord of the Rings, it belongs to Tolkien,

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Now, things are getting worse before they can get any better, and this chapter is rather disturbing and dark so be warned. It is definitely Mature/adult/R in nature due to violence and rape. Things really has to reach rock bottom before it can get any better and he is no longer sane, darkness is eating away at his soul and it makes him do things no elf normally would even think off. The lyrics at the start of the chapter was chosen because I thought they somehow fit the situation and their feelings towards each other.
Chapter seven: Three times you betrayed me.

The music is dead, the amen is said

The kiss of faith is what I beg

A loving heart 'n soul for sale
Leave me be

And cease to tell me how to feel

To grieve, to shield myself from evil

Leave me be

Ode of lies is killing me

Romanticide

Till love do me part

See me ruined by my own creations
Temporary pain, eternal shame

To take part in this devil's chess game

Spit on me, let go, get rid of me

And try to survive your stupidity
Nightwish: Romanticide.
Winter was something nobody feared but none had ever witnessed a winter just like this one, there had never been so much snow, nor as freezing cold before. The elves had moved almost their whole population into the palace but it didn’t really suffice, and they didn’t have enough firewood to keep all the rooms warm. And more than that, they also tried to save as much of the forest creatures as possible, they feared that without help many would perish and even though the animals were most welcome it drove some to slight insanity to find badgers sleeping in their beds or squirrels nesting in the chandeliers. And birds, there were bird droppings everywhere and the cook was fuming with rage since a gang of raccoons had raided the pantry on more than one occasion, the masked little bandits were so sly and cunning they had learned how to open doors and thus no room was safe. Deer were sleeping in the great hall and elk stood in the stable with the horses and looked slightly out of place. The children loved it of course but the adults not always so much. Vanima was glad though, the animals did somehow lift Thranduil’s bitter mood and he could smile and even cuddle with the furry little ones. It felt her with such a feeling of relief when she saw him sitting there in a corner with a fox eagerly trying to pull his boot off or a squirrel trying to pull out some of his hair for its nest. He was grinning and smiling and the anger and fear was gone from his eyes. It gave her hope, a hope that otherwise was fading away like never before.
He was doing a great job, as always. He was a perfect king and nobody could complain about him in that matter but his reputation had become damaged by the incident with the teacup, Vanima had tried to subdue the gossip but she had failed, the ladies of the court all knew that he had hit her, and that she had gotten injured. For weeks she had hid in her private rooms and even though the scars and bruises disappeared and the teeth grew back out she no longer trusted him. He didn’t apologize, didn’t even mention it and she felt as though she truly meant nothing to him now. She was just there, like a piece of furniture or some other inanimate object you simply got used to without really paying attention to it. It hurt her, but she didn’t dare to move out of their rooms. She couldn’t let him be alone, the nightmares and the depression was still a huge problem and she feared for his life more than once.
She was trying to keep herself busy with the tasks he saw as below his dignity. She would sit and sew with the other females, make tapestries or blankets or make lists of what dishes the kitchens were to serve in the coming week. As the winter darkness descended upon them she would make candles or sit by the fire in the main hall and listen to how the story tellers and bards tried to keep everybody entertained. He would often join her but everybody saw that the glances he sent her were devoid of true feelings, it was a charade and it made her heart bleed. Many believed that he truly had loved her before he left for that darn war and she knew that he in some ways had. Now he loathed her, or at least he acted thus. She was not so sure of what he really felt any more. He pretended to not notice her at all, and she had to lay in the bed at night listening to his incoherent words of fear and despair as he spoke in his sleep. Her own sleep was always disturbed and filled with her own nightmares and she never dared to touch him, not even to try and calm him down. The good feeling of companionship they had shared before the war was gone, it was replaced with a sort of animosity that cut into her like shards of ice.
She knew he feared the truth, feared to be healed since that process would be terrible for him but there was really no way to avoid it. The problem was that he refused to listen, as stubborn and pigheaded as a defiant toddler. She did sometimes compare him with just that, a child testing the limits and rules. The peace was a welcome change and the realm was thriving but Vanima could not help it, she felt that this was just a break, a long one perhaps but just a breather. Darkness would return and she could walk around feeling as though her nerves were clinging to the outside of her skin. Sometimes emissaries would visit them with news from the great world out there and she found their visits to be very interesting. They would tell of things she never had experienced for herself and she would sit there listening with her eyes shining and a smile on her face.
One evening a human tradesman had come by, a man from the far south who many times had visited Greenwood since he traded with fine jewelry and gems. Thranduil was very eager to hear of the things that were going on in the other realms and often humans would provide information which the elves didn’t share with him. Vanima sat there with a cup of hot wine and felt sleepy when she noticed that he suddenly looked more interested than before. The tradesman had mentioned that he had come across dwarves travelling away from their great city of Moria, something had happened in there and they had abandoned it. Some had whispered about something which had been awakened, something terrible of fire and smoke.
Vanima saw that Thranduil had gotten a bit pale and when the merchant went to his room to rest he ran to the library and stayed there for hours. She felt a cold chill run down her spine, this would only add to his worries and she sighed and hoped that it wouldn’t be anything able to affect them. Vanima had never seen a dwarf and knew only that there had been a rather good relationship between the two races once but that it all had changed with the death of Elu Thingol and the terrible things that had happened back then. Thranduil didn’t mention the episode again but she knew that he now had something new to fear, he wasn’t stupid and the fact that the one ring had gone missing didn’t mean that much to someone who may live for many millennia to come. Sooner or later all foul things reappear and she could only pray that they would be ready.
She did notice one thing after a couple of years, he never disappeared into the bathroom in the middle of the night to seek release on his own as he had done before the war, nor did he lay there pressing her against his body. He seemed to be cold with no such urges and she was so uncertain of what to think about it. She knew that it wasn’t a good sign and she feared to ask him. It would not be welcomed and so she tried to just accept that the shame he had felt when he returned had turned his libido off. Perhaps he simply felt disgusted by the very thought of such activities knowing what he had done and she was in some way almost relieved. He didn’t try to make any moves towards her and she knew herself well enough to know that she was even more unable to give in to him now than she had been before. She feared his anger and flaming temper more than ever and being with him would have been just a lie. But she missed being touched, just a small caress would have been enough, the touch of a hand upon her cheek, or her own hand. A short glimpse of something else than scorn and antagonism in his eyes, she missed it all.
She did care, she couldn’t help it. She had seen someone else back then, someone she maybe could have grown to love over the years but he had become everything she feared by now. Darkness, anger, terror, the feelings that made her cringe and wish she could just curl up like some small animal and go into hiding forever. She had to stay strong for the sake of their people and to them she was always their kind, understanding and generous queen. She never let the subjects see her tears and her loneliness. She was more alone now then she had been when he was away, it was such an irony but it was true. Working so hard to rebuild their realm was the only way she could hope to overcome her doubt and dark thoughts, she drowned herself in her duties and feared taking even a few hours off.
Spring returned once more and the snow disappeared, the forest turned green once more. The palace wasn’t as crowded as it had been and Vanima took several deep breaths of relief. It felt good that way and the return of the sun and the light made her mood a lot better. There were a lot of things that needed to be done after the winter and Thranduil was busy with the repairs of damages the palace had suffered from the heavy snow. The roofs had collapsed a few places and he was starting to realize that this place was getting old. Oropher had moved to this place from an even older palace at Amon Lanc and it had been more than a thousand years ago. This building or rather buildings had all been made from wood and stone and the wood was not going to last forever no matter how they tried to maintain it. They would soon have to start looking for a new place to live and it made him sad to think about it. It was as if he by doing that would betray his father’s memory in some way, that he then would have to accept that the past really was the past and never could return.
Vanima had been given a small flock of some rather fluffy looking bunnies when she was made queen and the fur of these white soft animals could be spun and woven into very beautiful cloth and so she and her chamber maidens would spend days shearing the small rascals and then making cloth from the fur. The rabbits had done what rabbits usually do and six had become two hundred and sixty over the years and she feared that they would be overrun with rabbits if they didn’t give some of them away. She was sitting there considering how to dye the delicate white cloth when she noticed that her youngest chambermaid, Oliel had a peculiar expression upon her face. She looked as if though she was about to burst into tears and Vanima dropped the cloth and stared at the elleth. “Oliel, what is it? You look distraught?”
Oliel bit her lower lip and she was pale, her eyes flickered from one side to the other and then she managed to speak but her voice was barely audible. “My lady, I know it is a sin to lie, but is keeping something a secret also a sin, if it is something terrible?”
Vanima puckered her brow in a frown, she could clearly tell from the elleth’s reaction that this was something rather serious and also probably bad. “That depends? Have you done something wrong?”
Oiel shook her head. “No, oh no my lady, I would never…but I have seen something, something I never should have, and I am so sorry, so terribly sorry and I do not know what to do with this knowledge.”
Vanima felt cold, as if someone had replaced her blood with ice water, this concerned herself, she just knew it. “Oliel, what did you see? You can tell me, fear not. I will not punish you for having witnessed anything illegal.”
Oliel sobbed. “But…My lady, it will hurt you. I do not want to hurt you. I am very fond of you and I pity you and I do not want to add to your burden.”
Vanima took a deep breath. “Oliel, just tell me, please. I can handle it I am sure”
Oliel was teary eyes but obeyed, she swallowed and stared at the white fur in her lap, her hands shivering. “I was on my way to the river to fetch some of the lovely brown ferns to make dye when I noticed that someone was walking through the woods. It was about lunch time and I thought it was weird that someone would be out there by then. And so I followed the person, I was afraid that something was wrong, or I don’t know, I just felt like I had to.”
Vanima stared at the young elleth who was getting more pale by the minute. “And then?”
Oliel gasped, tears were flowing down her cheeks. “It was the king my queen, he had put on a soldiers cloak but it was him. And he stopped by those strange ragged cliffs by the bend in the river, where nobody goes since it is so dank and dark there, and so many nasty bugs.”
Vanima felt her heart slowing down in her chest, it was weird, it should be speeding up but it didn’t, it was as if she already knew what Oliel was to tell her and yet she needed to hear those words to know it was true. “He met someone”
Her words were empty, devoid of emotions and she had to remember breathing, or else she would have swooned. Oliel nodded. “Yes, an elleth from one of the villages up by the mountains, she has never been to the palace I think. He had met her before I am sure for…for she was ready. She just lifted her skirt and he opened his pants and took her against a tree.”
Vanima closed her eyes, her slow heartbeat like thunder in her ears. Of course, he had gotten used to such behavior, to such liaisons. He probably was unable to stop, to fight his urge to relive those feelings he had gotten used to back during the war. He was used to taking whores and so he still did. “I… I am glad you told me Oliel.”
She heard the shivers in her own voice but she didn’t really feel anything, not anger, not disappointment. Just an emptiness that was even more frightening than what wrath would have been. Oliel bit her lip again. “He paid her afterwards, I saw it. And he just acted as if he wasn’t doing anything special, as if she was just some…opening he could use to find release. He could as might as well have fucked the tree I think, she was just there, available.”
Vanima took a deep breath. “Do not tell of this to anyone Oliel, promise me this.”
The chamber maiden nodded and tried to dry away the tears. “I am so sorry my lady.”
Her voice was thin and Vanima reached out and touched her hand gently. “Don’t be, I am glad you told me, at least I know what he is doing.”
Her other chamber maiden, Losille bent her head. “Better them than you?”
Vanima had to hide a bitter grin. “Yes dear, better them than me. I kind of suspected that he hadn’t been able to break the habit but now at least I know for sure that he still is cheating on me.”
Losille cocked her head. “It is unheard of among our people to go behind the back of your spouse like that. I have heard of couples that gladly share their bodies with others but then they all agree on it. Adultery like that could give you a divorce my lady.”
Vanima just sighed. “I know Losille, I know. But it is impossible, I would betray our people if I did that, I live for them now and I have sworn to try and protect our king, if need be against himself. Worry not, I will manage.”
The two ellith just stared at her with narrow eyes and their expressions told her that they didn’t really believe her. Vanima leaned back against the chair she sat in with her eyes closed. A stab through the heart would have been kinder but she had to survive even this. The bitter taste in her mouth was almost welcome, it made her feel something other than mind numbing emptiness. They just continued working and Vanima held back her tears until she could dismiss the two of them for the evening. She went to the bath and stayed there for a long time, weeping where nobody could see her tears. She asked herself why she was crying, why did it bother her that he sought such skanky females and lay with them? She didn’t love him, she was afraid of him most of the time and she ought to see him as nothing more than a project, a task she had to accomplish. And yet it felt as if her heart was torn in half yet again and she sat on the cold hard stone of the pool and wondered if Teren had known what he was doing when he saved Thranduil’s life. Maybe things would have been better if he hadn’t.
She did manage to pretend as if nothing was wrong for several weeks, perhaps she was trying to hide the truth even to herself. Then she no longer could try to deny it, she saw for herself what he was doing and it only left her with a strange sadness within. She had noticed that he was in his office just before lunch but then he was gone and she knew of the many hidden passageways throughout the palace. She found the entrance to one, he had to be using this system of narrow corridors and doors because she hadn’t met him in the main halls. And then she heard sounds from an alcove hidden behind a staircase and she had crept forth slowly without sound. A lamp was placed upon the stair and she had no problems seeing the whole thing. He was with an elleth who usually did the dishes in the kitchen, she wasn’t especially pretty nor anything out of the ordinary and maybe that was why she had agreed on letting the king use her like this. There wasn’t any love in this, hardly even desire. It was just about reliving those memories and seeking release in the only way that satisfied him by now.
Vanima felt herself tremble, it was so cold, so downright filthy. He was standing there with the elleth lifted up against the wall in front of him, he was thrusting hard against the young soft body and she had placed her legs around his waist. The elleth was making some strange sobbing sounds and Vanima could not really read the expression upon her face, if it was pleasure or pain or perhaps a mixture of both. He had just unlaced his pants, hadn’t even pulled them down and he was grunting and leaned upon the wall as if the elleth he was with just was a thing, he didn’t seem to caress her or care at all whether or not she enjoyed this, Vanima retreated, feeling very shocked and also sad on his behalf. This was not how it was supposed to be for one of their race, not at all. Where was the love? Where was the intimacy, the understanding? She heard him roar as he climaxed and the elleth whimpered as if in pain. Vanima didn’t doubt that the poor female probably felt rather terrible and she started to feel a spark of anger inside. Didn’t he see what he was doing? He wasn’t only ruining himself, he was ruining the future also for these females he only used to sleek his lust. It wasn’t fair.
She returned to her own chambers without being seen and she sat down and stared at the wall, what was she to do? There was nothing she really could do, if she tried to confront him he probably would deny it all and perhaps even throw another tantrum. She feared for herself, that was the truth. Should she just ignore it, pretend not to know and allow him to keep fornicating with these various females? She did not know any more and she saw a bottle of wine on the table and grasped it, pulled the cork out with her teeth and emptied it. The taste made her cringe but this evening she needed to dull her senses and forget it all. But the image was still glued to her inner eye, the sight of him standing there with that elleth’s legs wrapped around him, grunting and panting like some animal. She felt hot tears running down her face and wiped them away, angrily. She got back on her feet, got hold of a servant and told him that she didn’t want to be disturbed for the rest of the day, she needed to rest. She then closed the door and drank some more, continued to the world became a blur before her eyes and she was unable to think or feel anything except a strange sort of indifference.
The next day she felt like shit and had problems keeping up her appearance but she managed, just. For months she simply ignored the truth and tried to pretend as if it wasn’t there. She noticed that he disappeared for a short time now and then, where he went nobody knew except from her, and the ellith he had his way with. Then rumors were starting to spread, someone had perhaps seen something, or one of the ellith had bragged a bit or something like that. Vanima was feeling numb by now, as if she really didn’t care anymore. She never reached him no matter what she did and she was giving up. In the night he was still tossing around, reliving every horror from those dreadful seven years and she had to endure it with him. It seemed as if he had gotten married to the pain he felt instead of her, and he used it as a shield, as an excuse. He never mentioned his father when they were in private, nor the fact that he was dead. He tried to pretend as if nothing of it had happened and she compared him with a horse wearing blinkers.
In his sleep he would cry out in fear and despair, she would lay there listening to it all and she was unable to help him and it was such a terrible thing to witness. The darkness was chasing him headlong into madness and he was so afraid, so terribly afraid. He was weeping like a frightened child and her heart did bleed for him but she could do nothing to comfort him, to ease the pain. She had mentioned herbs that provided a deep sleep without dreams and he refused instantly. He still had that streak of paranoia and didn’t trust her and yet he refused her to sleep somewhere else. When she suggested anything like that he would get furious and accuse her of being cold and heartless or worse, that she was conspiring to overthrow his rule. Vanima wondered if this ever was to seize, if he ever was to get better? He had already acted violently against her, she feared that he in the end would be the death of her, and not in the way that she first had thought. He was cheating on her, ignoring her, treating her like trash and she wondered if it was she who was mad, who didn’t just leave. If she at all cared about her own life she ought to. The thought of how her family would react held her back, oh they would be so disappointed. Not that this in itself worried her, they had no business judging her, but she could almost hear the words they would toss at her, the accusations and the blame they would place on her and her alone. He was the king, of course he couldn’t do anything wrong.
She sat there in her chambers, thinking and thinking hard. She realized that she couldn’t do this alone, she needed help and advice and so she sat down and wrote a letter. It was the toughest letter she had ever written but she told of everything and she did nothing to sugar coat the situation even in the slightest. She told of his nightmares, of his adultery and the way he treated her and she tried to keep her own feelings out of it but when it was done she read through it and saw that no, she hadn’t managed to hide them at all. To anyone smart or wise they showed between the lines, just as visible and easy to detect as his were. She folded the letter, closed it with her seal and then she found a young soldier she knew was loyal to her and told him to bring the letter to Lothlorien in secret and to do it fast. He left that very night and she could just pray that he would get there. Galadriel and Celeborn now ruled that realm and she knew that the lady of light probably had to stay there but at least she could send some advice, or perhaps someone else capable of helping her.
The summer flew by and another winter came creeping across the land, the winters had gotten harder and this one too was going to be rather rough. They could all see that, nature didn’t lie and the forest was preparing itself for another onslaught of cold and snow. Vanima was making some fur coats for the royal guards when the messenger she had sent returned. He had delivered the message and the lady had told him that she would send somebody, that was all he said but it was enough and she felt how a small sprout of hope started to grow within her soul. She wasn’t sure if it would grow into something stronger tough, even with help the task would be difficult. Thranduil was occupied with making plans for the winter, he sent out elves to gather firewood, to fish and hunt and fill the storages and he seemed to thrive whence he had his hands full, just as she did. And she knew it was for the same reason, when he was busy working he didn’t have to think that much. Vanima just hoped that the help would arrive soon, she didn’t want to face another dark season trapped in the palace with him. He had started working on some plans for a new palace, at the moment it was just an idea but she sort of liked it. He wanted to find somewhere safer than this, somewhere they could be better protected then by aging walls of pinewood. He had thought of a cave and Vanima had at first stalled at the idea, a cave? A dark hole in the ground filled with bats, darkness and the Valar alone knew what else?
He had shown her books then, books describing the caves of Menegroth and she knew that he wanted to create something a bit similar to this but the Valar help them, what a task! They needed to find the right place, it would probably take centuries to finish and they needed laborers and artisans. But the idea seemed to spark something within him and when he worked on it his eyes were shining once more and she could see a shadow of the cheerful and innocent ellon he had been in his face and glance. And so she did her best to encourage him, praised his suggestions and told him they were wise. He liked that and when the official business of the day was over he would often sit in the study with parchment, coal and some wine and draw ideas. It made him relax and on such nights he would sleep without bad dreams and act quite differently. He could sometimes act almost like he had before the war but she didn’t dare to trust it, she had grown so accustomed to his mood shifting in seconds she never allowed herself to be caught off guard. She had become as wary as a cat in a dog pen and she never let her guard down even once when he was near.
The winter came so fast and the snowfall was huge. It once more made them stay indoors most of the time but luckily it wasn’t so freezing cold as the last one. They prepared for the winter solstice and as always, the celebrations were ornate and grand. Nothing would be missing and Vanima was very busy with the preparations. They had brought wine and mead from Lake town and some had even gotten some caskets with brandy from some merchant travelling by. Vanima was sure that the celebration this year would be a particularly grand one but she had a feeling of unease too. She feared that something would happen, something not so good. The festivities were most welcome, they took people’s minds away from the dark season and the cold and snow and everybody was acting cheerfully and with joy. Vanima wished that she could feel the same way but her heart was cold even when she smiled and toasted and partook in the merrymaking. There would be no help arriving until spring and she knew that the darkness festering within his mind was getting stronger with time, not weaker in any way.
The celebration reached its height, it was the last day of it and there was dancing and laughter and song everywhere. Vanima had toasted so much she felt rather dizzy and so she went to bed early, she feared getting unwell and she was tired. She had worked in the healing ward the entire day, trying to help a young elleth who somehow had managed to spill burning lamp oil over her hand and the painful burn had been quite a challenge to deal with. She was proud though to be able to tell herself that the hand would be as good as new if the elleth just remembered to let it rest and used the right salve every day. Vanima had almost fallen asleep when he entered the room, she froze and felt frightened right away. He was drunk, and for some reason angry. He had been smiling and acted as if he was really enjoying himself when she left but she knew that one single word could be enough to tick him off in a terrible way.
He veered into the bathroom, came back in his dressing robe and stopped by the bed, staring at her. She saw the dark glimpse in his eyes and knew that she had to weigh every word she now said very carefully not to awaken his wrath. “So, you abandon your own husband and sneak away like a thief in the night.”
She took a deep breath. “Forgive me my lord, but I was feeling unwell and I did not want to cause any disturbance.”
He stared at her, eyes still dark and calculating. “Really? Unwell indeed.”
She knew that she had to swallow all her pride, if she acted as humble as she could he would perhaps be calmed down. “Yes my king, I had too much to drink, it was my own fault.”
He made a sort of a grin, it looked as if it was caused by disgust more than anything else. “My own wife, the drunk”
She would have wanted to answer him with words like “My own husband, the fornicator” but she didn’t say a word, she had to control that temper of hers now. He snorted and stared at her and she made sure not to meet his gaze, she stared down at the blankets covering her instead. He sat down on the bed and there was something sly in his eyes, something that made her skin crawl. He was really not himself and somehow something had awakened the wicked streak in him. “You know, the war lasted for seven years, I bet you had some fun while I was away.”
She felt cold to the marrow. “I know not of what you speak my lord.”
He hissed and suddenly he had turned around, was on the bed and had grasped her by the shoulder. “They say you were very friendly with the younger counsellors, that you were alone with them.”
She knew she was in trouble, in serious trouble. Her mind was racing and her mouth got dry. “That is a lie my lord, I never did anything except what I was supposed to do, take care of the realm in your absence.”
He snarled, ripped the blankets away from her and she started to realize the danger she was in. “Oh, I bet there were other things you enjoyed taking care of far more than that, how many times did you let them get it you little slut?”
She shivered. “My lord, I have never let anyone touch me, you know this. I would never betray you thus. I am your wife!”
His eyes got narrow and she just knew it, this was a situation that had changed from tense to extremely volatile in a few seconds. “Really? Then I do want what’s mine, and I want it now!”
She gasped and tried to get out of the bed but he grasped her by her hair and tugged at it so hard her head flew backwards and she wondered why her neck didn’t snap like a twig. She let out a shrill sound of fear and he hit her across the face with a growl. “If you really are my wife then you shouldn’t resist me. I bet you have opened your legs for the entire staff here you damn liar.”
She tried to fight him, before he went to war she would have managed to hold him back too, but now he was too strong, too trained and much too enraged and filled with resentment to care. She tried to hit him back, tried to claw at him but he simply grasped her and threw her around, caught her wrists with one hand and pinned her against the matrass. He was panting and Vanima had never felt such panic before. It was impossible, it could not be, he couldn’t do it, it wasn’t true! She tried to buck, to squirm but he just laughed, a very cold and hate filled laugh and ripped the nightgown off her, she was being pushed into the matrass but tried desperately to reason with him. “Thran, don’t! You can’t do this, please, I do not want to! What are you doing?!”
He had ripped his robe off with one hand and she felt his warm body pressed against her own, she was shivering and her body felt numb, like she was paralyzed somehow. He still had a hard grasp around her wrists and he tried to pry her legs apart. Since she was laying on her stomach she was rather strong and resisted and he growled and suddenly he bit her neck, very hard and sudden. The pain made her scream in shock and for a fleeting second she lost control of herself in an attempt to flee the agony, it was enough. He pushed her thighs apart and Vanima tried desperately to reason with him one last time. “Thranduil, stop, please, rape is a sin, can’t you see what you are doing?”
She felt tears running down her cheeks, she was shivering with fear and disgust and she couldn’t believe that it was happening, but it was. He just hissed and slapped her across her rear as she tried to pull away from him. “You are mine wench, I will soon enough know how many you have done it with.”
She screamed, she didn’t know she could make such terrible sounds but she tried to fight him again, desperately. She was not going to give in, not going to just let herself be taken, like some animal from behind without trying to fight for her dignity and pride. He grinned, a wide and vicious grin filled with a dark sort of triumph. “Oh I like the feisty ones, just try to resist me you whore and see how far it gets you.”
She thought that her heart would push itself out of her, rip itself free from her chest, she wasn’t able to breathe, to think. All she felt was that terrible panic, the shock and disbelief. No elf would ever do something like this to another? Oh she had of course heard the tales of old, of Eöl and Aredhel but she had never believed those who claimed that the dark elf had taken his wife by force. Now she thought otherwise, it was possible indeed. She felt him push against her body, tried to get out of the way but to no prevail, he found his way and Vanima thought that the world itself for a second had gone up in white flames, all she heard was her own piercing scream and all she felt was a terrible ripping pain she never could have imagined even in her wildest dreams. She felt as though she was being split in half, and with each hard thrust the agony got worse. She screamed until her lungs gave out, until her vision failed and black dots was all she could see. He grunted as he slammed his hips into her again and again, she was being pushed into the pillow wet with her own tears and she tried to scream again but she could not. She was unable to breathe properly, all she managed was small gasps and she heard her own pulse as thunder in her head. Her body was unwilling and tried to resist the penetration and it made the agony even worse, her muscles were clenching to protect her and it was a reaction she was unable to control.
She could just lay there, helpless and paralyzed by shock as he panted and made animalistic sounds, pushing her down, using her like she was a thing. She had never felt that humiliated, never felt so worthless or helpless and she knew that this was it, rock bottom.
It could never get worse than this if he didn’t downright kill her with his own hands and she almost hoped that he would, how could she ever escape this? She was keening now, piercing high pitched sounds she never would have thought that her throat could produce but she was, and he didn’t stop at all. He didn’t care if she was in pain, he didn’t care that he hurt her. She was close to passing out when she noticed that he fell out of rhythm, that his thrusts became almost mechanical and then he let out a roar and she felt him pulse inside of her, felt surges of hot liquid as he spilled and she just gave up. She was dead, broken like a horse with its very spirit whipped out of it. She just lay there, limp like a corpse, eyes empty and distant, staring into nothing. She shouldn’t have been alive in the first place, she should have let Feanuldo sacrifice her to the dark lord, even that would have been to prefer to this. She lay there panting and he collapsed on top of her, mumbling something that sounded rather sour, as if he was disappointed somehow. She felt how she was getting cold, the pain was still there, still so terrible she thought that he had ripped her completely apart on the inside and perhaps he had, she felt blood running out of her and knew that she was injured but it didn’t matter. She was dying, there was no denying it. Why should she even try to continue living? She was sure that Mandos would be both forgiving and understanding and what would happen to Thranduil was any bodies guess. She shouldn’t care, they could hang him for all she cared.
He stirred, grunted and let go of her wrists, she didn’t move and she felt that he was getting hard once more but it didn’t matter, she didn’t care. She was fading away and didn’t move when he went at it again, this time making use of her other orifice. The agony was just as bad if not even worse but her fêa was already leaving, she didn’t feel it although her hroa was writhing in agony. Darkness was swallowing her and she didn’t resist, she allowed it to overtake her and she felt so tired, so ready to rest. Then she heard a voice, a gentle warm voice filled with such compassion but also worry. “Vanima, don’t let go, you cannot let go! Not yet, stay. I know it is hard but you have to stay, help is on the way, I promise. Remember what I told you, your spirit is strong, you can survive even this.”
She tried not to listen but knew she had to, no sacrifice is to great Galadriel had told her, so not even this was the limit? She felt a cold sorrow penetrate her soul, turning it into ice but she drew breath once more, fell back into her body and immediately the pain returned. She closed her eyes and saw it again, the vision of the small elfling in the meadow, those lovely blue eyes and that gorgeous smile. Yes, for him it was worth it, only for him. She passed out from the agony and the sheer terror but her fêa didn’t try to leave again, she wanted to prove that she was strong, stronger even than he was. She would overcome even this, just to prove that darkness never could win.
She regained consciousness slowly, at first she didn’t remember but then it hit her and she gasped and opened her eyes in absolute horror. She still lay in the bed, her head on the wet pillow and she hadn’t moved at all. She had no idea of how long she had been unconscious and she felt like breaking down completely. Her cheeks were flooded with tears and she sobbed and keened but slowly she managed to get herself together, pushed against the matrass and lifted her upper body. She hurt everywhere. The bite in her neck had been bleeding badly and she felt how she was quite literally stuck to the sheets with dried blood and semen. She turned her head slowly, each movement as slow as those of a slug. He sat in an armchair by the fire, asleep and naked with an empty jar of Brandy next to him. She remembered what her mother once had said, any man can become a monster with a belly full of alcohol and she knew it was right. A monster indeed.
She had to cover this up, if the others found out about this then there would be no mercy, not even a king could raise himself above the law and she didn’t want to see him executed, not for the sake of her.
She had to hide it all, her shame and pain and she got out of the bed while her body trembled with pain and fatigue. Her heart was racing and she felt light headed and knew she had lost a lot of blood. She was bleeding still, no wonder actually. Slowly as a sloth she made her way to the bathroom. He slept like a log and she knew that nothing would disturb him now. She poured some water into a basin, washed herself and bit her lip to choke her own wails of pain. Then she found a towel, ripped it apart and tied it up between her legs like the mortal females did when they had their monthly bleed. She found a new nightgown and now she was working as if in a frenzy. If she managed to destroy the evidence then it would be as if nothing had happened, at least nobody would know except from herself and him. She combed her hair, braided it, washed and covered the bite mark with some skin cream. Then she threw the bloody cloths she had used into the hearth, got the fire going again. The pain in her lower belly and between her legs was unbearable but she ignored it, she was panting and sweating, desperate to get rid of it, to get rid of it all. She ripped off the bloody sheets, the blankets and the pillow, threw them into the hearth and watched it all burn. The matrass was bloody too and she could not get rid of that so easily but she took some water and washed off the worse of it with some cloths before she simply turned the whole thing over and hid the stains on the underside of the bed. It was heavy and it made her arms and back ache like they were about to break but she couldn’t hesitate. She went to the cupboards and found new sheets, blankets and pillows and then she made the bed again, when she was finished it looked normal, like it had when she went to bed that evening. He was still sleeping, snoring and moaning in his sleep and she took a cloth and washed him too with a feeling of slight disgust. She didn’t want to touch him but she had to, there could be no evidence of the horror that had happened there this night. Luckily there had been no guards outside of the doors that night since everybody was given the day off due to the celebration and the royal chambers lay far away from the other rooms. It was not very likely that anybody had heard her screams and there were a lot of shouting and yelling from the party. The walls were thick and she just prayed that nobody had noticed. She hoped that not even Oliel or Losille would be able to tell that something was wrong.
When she was done it felt as if the air went out of a balloon, she just sat down cringing with pain and she had no idea of what to do now. She should have her injuries checked but she could not go see Hwan, he would understand the cause immediately and then all hell would break loose, she didn’t want them to know, didn’t want to let her people know she had been abused, soiled and tainted like this. She knew she had washed herself thoroughly but she still felt as if those liquids were clinging to her skin, making her dirty and disgusting like some worn out thing. She knew how people reacted to such things and she did also know one more thing. He hadn’t raped her because of lust, it had all been about control. He probably felt like the world was coming apart around him and sought to control at least one thing, to feel like he was strong enough to subdue at least someone like her. It didn’t make it right in any way, it only told her even more clearly how deep into the darkness his soul had descended.
She crawled into the bed once more, checked that the primitive pad wasn’t leaking and she felt that the bleeding was slowing down, she wasn’t going to bleed to death, at least that was a relief. She tried to think clinically, to use her own knowledge. It was possible that her cervix had been injured, or she could have gotten torn but then she would have been far worse off than she was. And the last time he took her was just as bad, she would have to starve herself until she had healed. Luckily elves heal fast compared with humans but it would be hard. Terribly hard. Would he at all remember it when he woke up? Would it be like some dark dream to him? She had no idea and she could just curl up and close her eyes, pray that the help would arrive soon. She would not survive another attack like this one, it would be the last of her for sure. Even her strong spirit could only take so much and this had been the last drop. If he did something like this again she would no longer stand up for him, no longer defend him. She slowly fell asleep again with a prayer on her lips. They had to come soon, they just had to, before it was all too late and the promises she had made became empty and turned to lies.
The next morning she was barely able to move at all, her entire body was ablaze with agony and she knew that hiding this would be terribly hard. Thranduil was still sitting in the chair and she made a sneer looking at him, not really knowing she did it. If she had ever had any feelings towards him they were dying now, rather rapidly. She checked the hearth, everything had been reduced to ashes and she let out a sigh of relief. Good, no evidence. Then she took the brandy bottle and poured some drops that had been left in it onto her hands, smacked them onto her face to make herself reek of the fluid and then she grasped him by the shoulder and shook him carefully. He groaned and stirred, his eyes rolling in his head and he looked very confused and for a second she did pity him once more. He swallowed with a whimper, touched his throat with an expression of pain and saw the brandy bottle in her hand. “Vanima?”
She nodded, managed to make herself slur and it wasn’t hard pretending as if she was still drunk since she could hardly move. “Yes, get…get dressed…it is morning!”
He saw that he was naked and frowned, could not remember getting undressed and absolutely not having gone to sleep in the armchair, what the heck? He had a glimpse of a memory, of screams? Had he suffered those horrible nightmares again? “Did… did I drink that bottle?”
Vanima managed to throw him a sheepish grin. “We did, together, and some wine.”
He got onto his feet, feeling like the world was about to topple over and he found his dressing robe on a chair and put it on. “No wonder my head is spinning, oh valar I can’t remember anything! Remind me never to touch that brandy stuff again!”
She just grinned and put the bottle away, he didn’t remember? Excellent, she didn’t want to be reminded of this, not even by him. He staggered into the bathroom, stayed there for a while and came out looking far better than before. He had put on some rather plain clothes and his eyes were blurred with pain and he flinched whenever there was a sharp sound or bright light. Hangover, she had thought so. She sat down on a chair, very carefully so she wouldn’t reveal how much pain she was in. “You drank a lot after you returned to our room last night, don’t you remember?”
He frowned, stared at her incredulously. “No?”
Vanima squeezed the bridge of her nose as if she too had a headache. “Oh but you did, and then you challenged me to a drinking contest and you won. And you felt so warm you just stripped and then you collapsed into that chair and slept there the whole night.”
He shook his head, confused and a bit scared too. There was something lurking in the back of his mind, something awful. He had done something? Vanima saw that expression in his eyes and for a second she almost did panic. If he remembered he would end himself, he would kill himself just as certainly as the sun would rise above the horizon, both to pay for his sin and to spare her for further shame and humiliation. If he was to be dragged before the elders accused of such a crime she would have to testify and how could she do that, tell of her humiliation in detail? She grinned. “You had nightmares again, terrible ones I think, you were making a terrible racket, I could hardly sleep.”
He still looked confused and in doubt and slowly he relaxed. Yes, nightmares, it had been those awful images again. He took a look at her, she looked terrible. Pale and green and her eyes were so huge and dark, he had never seen her looking like this before. He remembered how he had missed her during the campaign, how she had been his light but now that light had somehow been hidden from him. When had that happened? He tried to clear his throat but it felt raw, like he had been calling out? “Are you alright Vanima, you look….not well”
She just smiled and waved her hand. “I am hung over Thran, nothing worse than that. I will be fine soon. I am not used to drinking you know.”
He nodded and looked confused still, she tried to act like normal. “Go now, have some breakfast, get the butler to make you some herbal tea, it will help. I will rest here I think, my head hurts too bad.”
He sent her a wage smile, his eyes distant and a constant frown lay upon his brow. Screams, he still heard screams? Why? “Okay my lady, I will send for your maidens.”
She just grinned and saw him go out the door, then she gasped for air and forced back a wail of pain, it wasn’t as much physical as mental and she knew that he still was in there somewhere, the gentle caring person he had once been, it made the whole thing so much more tragic and now she would have to use all her skill and all of her cunning to prevent him from remembering what he had done to her this night. He was proud, he knew what was right and wrong, and he would not be able to live with himself if he remembered. How in the name of the Valar was she to prevent a complete disaster? She was wringing her hands and felt like an animal trapped in a cage when the two maidens came into the room. They immediately knew that something was wrong, they knew their mistress and saw the dark shadows in her eyes and they had seen the weird expression in the eyes of their king. Vanima had to tell them something, something they would believe. She had to deceive them and it made her heart bleed but there was no way out of it. She tried to smile and touched her head again. “Could you please go get some painkillers from Hwan, ah…the king and I had a drinking competition last night and needless to say, I lost! I feel like crap!”
Oliel giggled and Losille shook her head. “My queen, that is never a good idea, you are so unused to alcohol.”
She shook her head and blinked, hoped it looked convincing. “I know, I guess it was the festive mood that caught me.”
She saw that Losille went to the healer and Oliel prepared her dress for the day, Vanima hawked. “Ah, in case someone heard a racket from this room last night, he had the most awful nightmares up to date, that’s why he looks a bit…weird.”
Oliel just smiled. “No, nobody has mentioned anything like that, it was a lot of squealing and shouting, the guards were playing catch the maiden and they didn’t stop until just a couple of hours ago.”
Vanima let out a sigh of relief, the old custom of chasing after the young single ellith and being rewarded with a kiss if they managed to catch one always caused a lot of noise, in special if the one chasing an elleth wasn’t the one she would prefer to be chased by. Vanima just smiled. “That is good, it is nice that the young have some fun after all these years of war. Now, about the dress I am to wear…”
She chatted away with Oliel and thought to herself that Thranduil had betrayed her three times now, when he was away to fight, with the ellith there at the palace and this night when he took her against her will. Three crimes she was so unsure of if she ever could forgive him. The Valar might in time but she was rather certain that she couldn’t. She just prayed that she would be able to hold it together for the next weeks, until the help Galadriel had promised her would arrive. She would have to hold her cards close to her chest and pretend as if nothing had happened and it would be a difficult game indeed. One she could not afford to lose if she was to keep her promise. One on which the future depended.
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Unanswered prayers