Title: Masks
Rating: R
Warning: Angst and descriprions of torture.
Disclaimer: I'm not making any profet off this. All characters, places and things, with the exception of a few OC belong to J.R.R Tolkien.
Notes: This is actually pretty old and has been cluttering up my computer, so I thought I would go ahead and post it. Originally this started as a plot-bunny, inspired by some talk on Axe-Bow and a few scenes from "Blade of the Immortal" manga. I've since named it and done some minor tweaking of it.Masks
It was a time of peace and prosperity. The hard won war was over, the One Ring destroyed, the gapping wounds of war where almost healed, now was a time of renewal and growth over all the western lands.
In the gleaming city of Gondor, in one of the grand echoing halls of the palace, a spindly built Man of rather small height calmly walked. His thin arms full of various parchments and scrolls, back from an errant for the important official he worked for.
All those in the palace knew him simply as Enriten, but what they didn't know was that his real name was actually Rabryn. He was a very nondescript Man with dark thinning hair that framed a plain face that was over looked in a crowd and just as easily forgotten. He was dressed in dark robes of grey and brown, befitting his station as the aid to Aaddrunye. Who in turn was one of the King's top advisers, second only to the head Magistrate and the acting Steward, Faramir, youngest son of the late Denethor. All around he was the type of Man no one paid attention to, being near invisible to most… and that was the way he liked it.
As his clicking foot steps echoed smartly against the white and grey veined marble floors, he let his gaze look out one of the large balconies to his left as he walked by. A cool refreshing breeze momentarily ruffling his thin hair as warm sunlight beamed through to spill and reflect off the polished floors and walls. The view through the balcony was truly spectacular, with the majesty of Gondor spread out before the window as well as the surrounding plains and the smoky mountains standing guard in the distance.
The ancient city was once again beautiful, shinning in all its glory, thanks to the new King and the help of his companions. While the new King and his Elvin Queen brought back a deep pride and created an atmosphere of peace and majesty. The Dwarves, under the direction of the King's Dwarven companion, rebuilt Gondor anew. Fixing its wounds and scars, making the city whole and stronger then ever before. As with the Dwarves, the Elves too, under another of the King's companions had made Gondor truly bloom again after years of sorrow and seeming drought, the gardens and trees grew lush and sweet smelling once again. The White Tree lived once more, abloom with blossomes and leaves, growing stronger with each passing year. The Elves weaved their magic to make the White City a crowning jewel once more, soothing the sorrow of all and seeming to heal the city's very soul.
But Enriten wouldn't allow himself the luxury of enjoying the view as he walked past, he still had his duties to perform. Not to mention keeping all his plans that he had finally set into motion in order. He also needed to check on his men and see how things were coming along with their guest…
He quickly put all these thoughts to the back of his mind as he rounded the corner to the next hall, once again putting on his practiced mask of 'scholarly, but clumsy servant'. He hunched his shoulders a bit and shuffled his feet, making his movements more jerky, the confident walk from just moments before having completely vanished. As he approached the massive carved doors leading to the main throne room, he gave a friendly greeting to the two armed and armored guards standing to either side of the massive doors. Making sure to clumsily drop a few scrolls as he did.
The two guards rolled their eyes as they watched Aaddrunye's assistant come scuttling around the corner towards them, then drop some of his armload when he stupidly tried to wave a greeting to them. This was not the first time they had seen Enriten in action. They then watched the mousy Man 'tisk' and babble to himself as he clumsily went about trying to pick up the dropped scrolls and in turn spilling a few more pieces of parchment to the floor before finally getting up again, almost tripping on his long robes. The two bored looking guards only snorted in amusement, well aquatinted with Aaddrunye's bumbling assistant. Without a word they opened the large doors for him and watched the thin assistant slip into the large and lavish throne room, carefully juggling his armload before the two guards closed it behind him.
As Enriten entered he could see that the meeting he had left earlier was still taking place between the King, his advisers and the huffing officials about various taxes, city policies and other such important things that need addressing to keep a city running smoothly. Long heavy tables had been set up before the King's great throne, the sound of scratching quills, the rustling of parchment and the murmur of talking echoed through the great hall. It was here that the group of advisers and officials sat as they wrote and went through their various papers and scrolls. All of them arguing and debating the various topics and laws.
For the most time the striking dark-haired King was silent, his heavy silver crown upon his head, his sharp grey-eyes speaking of great intelligence, many times speaking out only to sooth or call order when the arguments became too heated or convoluted. Every now and then the Steward, who stood at the King's left side, would lean over to say something in the King's ear or add his own thoughts to the various discussions. At the end of one of the long tables, nearest to one of the massive windows that lined the throne room on either side, sat Aaddrunye. Right where Enriten had left him earlier. Spotting him, he immediately went to the old advisor's side.
Aaddrunye was a heavyset Man with wiry grey hair and beard, both of which he kept immaculately clean and clipped, who always wore long deep burgundy and brown robes befitting his station and occupation as adviser. He was wise and surprisingly kind, though he did not suffer foolishness gladly and suffered from a rather sever 'sweet-tooth', evident by his bulging waistline. He had been one of Denethor's advisors, before the late Steward's death and with Faramir's backing and recommendation, he took up his old job and was now one of King Elessar's advisors. Aaddruny looked up from his note taking at Enriten's approach, praising the younger Man on his swift return, immediately plucking two particular scrolls from the smaller Man's arms.
It was then that Enriten noticed that there was another that had joined the meeting while he had been gone. He was mildly surprised to see none other then the King's Elven companion, the Prince of Mirkwood present at the Elessar's other side. The Wood-elf was quietly discussing something with both the King and the skeptical looking Lord Faramir. As Enriten watched from the corner of his eye, he could not help admire the beautiful being's presence as the three continued their heated whispering. Like that of Elessar's wondrous dark-haired Queen there was something almost frightening about their beauty, their kind always seeming to radiate a glow about them, filling any room, no matter how large with their mere presence. The very air around them seeming to become sweeter in their presence.
He hated that.
With his mask still firmly in place Enriten subtly watched as the dark-haired King rolled his eyes and waved off whatever the green clad archer had been hissing at him as he tried to look over a document that one of the politicians had brought forth. A moment later the acting Steward, Faramir adding to whatever the King had said, clearly in agreement with Elessar. Enriten wished he knew what they where speaking, but unfortunately did not speak Sindarin. Which of the room, aside from the Elf, only the King, Faramir and the King's advisors were fluent, including Aaddrunye. Whatever was said the tall blond-haired Elf clearly disagreed with their answer given the way it's flashing green eyes narrowed before turning sharply away from his companions to look out one of the large windows. Its' thoughts clearly troubled. Enriten watched the lithe archer unconsciously finger the long white knife at its side, before watching it stock away on silent feet to wonder about the cavernous throne room like a restless hunting cat. Enriten mussed to himself that if the Elf had a tail it would no doubt be lashing about behind him.
"I wonder what has the Lord of Ithilien so vexed?" he asked Aaddrunye, pretending ignorance as he stacked the parchment and scrolls on the cluttered table next to the old advisor. Even thought he had a pretty good idea for the Elf's agitation.
"Apparently he can not find his companion in the palace or anywhere else. Lord Gimli has consequently not been seen since yesterday morning," Aaddrunye said as he went over the contents of one of the scrolls, making changes to the parchment he had been writing on earlier.
"Perhaps he is somewhere in the city?" offered Enriten "I have heard that he and others of his race often frequent one of the taverns in the lower rings of the city."
"I too share those thoughts," agree Aaddrunye, still not looking up from his work.
Enriten gave an internal chuckle at hearing this, his plans were going perfectly. It would probably be another day before the King and the rest of the palace began to pay attention to the Elf's troubled thoughts and started to worry and look for the missing Dwarf.
Surly that would be enough time…
The meeting continued on for a few more hours, the slender Elf moving restlessly around the grand room, waiting for the meeting to conclude and soon Enriten himself lost track of him as played dutiful servant to Aaddrunye. Handing the older Man fresh quills and ink, passing him parchments and fetching anything else that was needed, including taking down notes for Aaddrunye when the other advisors or politicians got up and spoke.
Finally after several hours of arguments by some of the city officials and one interruption by a visit from Gondor's Elven Queen, who was heavy with child, the meeting was finally over. Old Aaddrunye still wanted to discuss some things with the King and a few of the other advisors so he dismissed him to go get something to eat and enjoy the rest of the day. But to make sure to come by his rooms before the evening meal to help transcribe some dusty tomes for the upcoming meeting with the Guild of Scholars tomorrow. Enriten gave a his proper thanks to Aaddrunye, then a deep respectful bow to the King and Steward before turning to leave the room.
He was almost to the door, his thoughts turned inward once again with his plans, when he froze. His heart seeming to halt in his chest as he suddenly found himself speared by a pair of luminous inhuman eyes of frightening beauty. There, leaning against one of the large pillars framing the doors was the Elf, who he had forgotten all about.
For a terrible moment he thought that he had somehow been found out as he watched the Elf's slender body stand up fully and step away from the pillar. That by some strange Elvish magic the blond archer knew, had somehow heard his very thoughts.
But luck was on Enriten side this day, for as soon as they had locked eyes it was over as the Elf turned it's flashing gaze elsewhere. Completely dismissing his presence before gliding past him, back to stand by the King's throne again. Enriten releases the breath he had been holding. The Elf still knew nothing, just glaring at everyone and thing like an agitated cat, he told himself He was safe. They still knew nothing!
Enriten didn't turn to see what the Elf was now saying to the King, not even particularly caring as he quickly made his exit through the large heavy doors. So in turn never saw the Elf's cool jade eyes look up and narrow as they silently watched him go.
Enriten quickly scrambled out the door, past the guards and down the hall before finally turning the corner and letting out a sigh of relief. For a moment that damned Elf seemed to look right into his very being. Giving himself an internal shake, he continued on to his quarters. When he reached his small and sparsely furnished room, he made sure to lock the door before quickly changing out of his ropes. He then went to the small wardrobe and pulled out some dark traveling clothes and a dark brown cloak. It was time to take a little trip to the first level of the city and see how his men were doing with their guest.
It was not long after slipping out of his room through one of the many secret passageways and out of the palace, that Enriten now rode down the congested main street through the various gates.
None paid attention, nor seem to take notice of the cloaked figure on the chestnut mare as he moved through the heavy traffic of the city. He now wore the dark traveling clothes and the concealing brown cloak as he made his unhurried way to the lowest level of the city. As he rode his manner was utterly different now, if any of the palace that knew him as 'Enriten' saw him now they would not have recognize him. For the thinly built Man now held himself with utter confidence, his once bumbling manner, now smooth, his face now cool and calculating. This was the true 'Enriten', not the timid, clumsy and scholarly assistant he pretended to be, but Rabryn. The anarchist, spy and all around man-for-hire when one wanted to take down a kingdom. Which was just what he was in the process of doing and for the moment no one was the wiser, not Aaddrunye, not the King, not the Elf or anyone else.
He had actually planned to do this long before when the city had still been under the then acting Steward, Denthore's tight control. These plans however had to be put on hold with the unexpected events during the War of the Ring. Then his original plans had to be utterly scrapped and he was forced to start over, thanks to the greatly unexpected return of the 'Heir of Isildur'. As well as the following restructuring of the inner workings of the palace and the very structure of the city itself. If he wanted Gondor to be an easy conquest for his mysterious backers he needed the plans of the city, to know where all it's weaknesses where and all the secret ways into the city and palace were hidden.
Enriten didn't know precisely who had hired him, not even particularly caring, besides in his line of work one was not paid to know who their employers were as long as they got paid. All he did know about his backer was that he was an up and coming general in the Haradrim military, who was looking for an easy way to clime ever higher and gain the much needed and desired respect of his fellows. And what a perfect way to cement one's bid for power then to conquer the seemingly unconquerable White City of the free western lands?
It was forty minuets later when Enriten past the final gate to the last level and kicked his horse into a trot as he steered her off to a less congested stone laden street to the right of the main road. He made his quick way through one of the poorer neighborhoods that stood mostly in the shadow of the mountain that the city nestled against. The crowds and foot traffic dramatically dropped off the closer to the mountain he got until he had finally came to a large open area scattered with only a few small buildings. The seemingly deserted area ended where it meet the rough and steep side of the mountain, it was further blocked off by the high guarding wall dividing the city from the open and vast plains, which was directly opposite of the massive dividing wall of the next level that rose above him. Hardly any people lived in this area, it being mostly used to house extra lumber, stone, gravel and other such building supplies for the city.
He continued into the area directing his mount to a simple structure that stood almost directly beside the steep face of the mountain, where a few other structures were scattered nearby. He had specially chosen this location because it was close to the Palace but far enough away that few would notice the various activities going on in one of the small buildings and fewer still who might hear a tortured scream.
Even if any of the locals did hear anything, Enriten knew that they were not likely to say anything. Besides, even if one did, who would listen to the hurried babblings of some simple peasant?
He was quite pleased with himself, everything was going smoothly as planned. With any luck his Men had already gotten the information he needed from the Dwarf and he could move on to the next phase of his plans. As he continued to make his way to the small structure, the whistle of wind and the loud clop of his horses hooves filled his ears. He frowned as he admitted to himself of at least one bump in his plans. He hadn't expected the Dwarf's absence to be noticed so early. He had not thought the Elf would come out of it's trance-like state so soon.
Surly the Elf wasn't some how connect to the Dwarf in someway?
But he quickly dismissed those thoughts, accounting this unexpected bump in his plans as purely a fluke and bad luck on his part. The fact was that only a few knew of the Lord Legolas' strange boughts of 'sea illness'. Of course non had told him personally, but people do talk and nothing spreads faster then a secret and rumors always had a way of sneaking into people's ears. To add to that, the Steward Faramir and his Lady the fair Eowyn regularly talked to one another out in one of the Queen's gardens, sitting under one of the lovely willow trees. Enriten was a very observant person and prided himself on having sharp ears. It was not difficult to ease-drop every now and then on their conversations.
It had been one of these times, that he just 'happened' to be walking by, when he learned of the Lord Legolas' boughts of 'sea-longing'. The Lady Eowyn was apparently worried for Elf and how he would occasionally fall into a strange state for hours, sometimes even days, seeing and hearing things only he could see. Leaving all those who loved him to worry and simply wait for his return. It was apparently particularly worrying of late that the Wood-elf had been having longer boughts then normal, it was now not uncommon for him to fall under the 'sea-logging' for a day or more. These episodes were usually followed by the Elf wanting to be alone with his own thoughts, either in his rooms or in one of the gardens. He had apparently on two occasions even left the city altogether. No one knowing where he went, the Wood-elf insisting that he needed time to himself, leaving with only his horse as company. The King and Queen suspected it was to the ocean, to stand on the beach and stare out at the calling waves. It was not long after hearing this that a plan began rolling into motion in Enriten's head.
Up until now the Elf and Dwarf seemed to be attached at the hip and that had been where his problem had previously been. For his plans to succeed, he needed the Dwarf and that did not include the Elf. With this interesting news of Lord Legolas' strange affliction, Enriten saw a wonderful opportunity for the next stage of his mission.
After that it was not hard to observe the various goings-on of the palace, of figuring out about how long the Elf's trance like states usually lasted. Of following the Dwarf on it's wanderings and learning of it's and others of it's kinds preference for a small cheerful tavern on the third level of the city. Finding out that this was where the Dwarf usually went when the Elf needed it's time to be alone. After that, formulating a trap was easy.
Now he himself would never even dream of getting his own hands dirty, he left the physical work and other unpleasant tasks to others. His way was one of intellect, he was the brains, the one to orchestrate things. Which was precisely why he had hired six Men to carry out his next plans, Men that cared nothing for anyone but themselves and the right amount of gold.
Giving all of them careful and strict instructions, along with a few special darts coated with a deadly poison. The trap was set. The poison would not kill the Dwarf, their race being particularly immune to most sicknesses and poisons, but it would cause it to become dizzy and disoriented before falling unconscious for awhile. It was not difficult to find a Woman in the city to play the part of damsel in distress and be the bait for his carefully laid trap. A full bag of gold coins guarantied her silence to what she would participate and see.
Now he himself had not been present at the Dwarf's capture the day before. Having to keep up his cover and be present at Aaddruny's side as the old Man held a debate with a few of the other advisors in one of the special conference rooms in the palace. But he had left instructions to the Men to contact him if they were unsuccessful; as of yet he had received no such word. So he assumed all had gone as planned.
He finally reached the small structure and climbed off his mount, looping her reins on a convenient post. He pushed back the hood of his cloak then turned and walked to the simple building, taking note of the tired looking nag still hooked up to a small cart on the other side of the building. There was also another horse, this one in desperate need of a thorough brushing, standing miserably next to the old nag, still saddled. Not a few steps away was a heavy set Man with dirty-blond hair, his back to him, urinating against the side of the building. The large Man, who was clearly of Rohirrim decent, finally finished and tucked himself away before noticing the new arrival, looking momentarily surprised before lifting his dirty hand in acknowledgment. Enriten arrogantly snorted to himself and rolled his eyes, the simpletons one was forced to deal with these days!
With that he opened the simple wooden door that creaked loudly on its rusty hinges and walked into the small two roomed building, the large Man from outside following him in. The building was really more of a shed with a dirt floor, that had once been used to store supplies and tools. The interior was dark and uncomfortably hot, the heavy air smelling of sweat and the metallic scent of blood. There were no windows, with only one door leading outside and one open doorway leading to the second room. The interior of the first room was lit only by two candles casting shadows and illuminating the sparse interior and the small group of Men either sitting or standing around the simple room. There was also a large lump laying against one of the walls, covered in a bloodstained blanket. That had better not be the Dwarf, Enriten growled to himself.
As he continued to look around he also noticed for the first time that there was quite a lot of drying blood on the dirt floor, looking back he saw that it tracked through from outside as well.
The shear amount of blood on the floor was worrisome, he hoped the Men hadn't gotten too carried away. He needed the Dwarf alive! Had something gone wrong when they captured the Dwarf, perhaps they had killed it before they could even get the information from it? His gut twisted at the thought, the thought of having to start over again.
The heavy set Man that had followed him in came to stand by a shorter lanky Man with dark hair and a sever hook nose, leaning against one of the walls. The other Man, who sat on a crate on the opposite wall, was bald with sun-dried leathery skin, who's face gave new meaning to the term "pug-ugly".
"Bout time you showed up," snorted the lanky Man, glaring at him through his medium length hair. Enriten didn't bother to acknowledge what the other Man said as he looked around and noticed that of the seven Men he had hired, he saw only three before turning his main attention back to the lump under the blood soaked blanket.
"That had better not be the Dwarf under there," he said in an ominous voice, flashing a piercing glare at the lanky dark-haired Man, who called himself Lars. Lar's posture stiffened and he pushed away from the wall, a confused look passing over his long face.
"Wha-? The Dwarf?" he said in clear confusion, watching his small employer sharply motion to the blood-soaked blanket on the floor before comprehending what Enriten was talking about. "Oh… No, no. That's Odren, the Dwarfs' is in the other room." As he said this he walked over to the lump and squatted down, pulling back the stained blanket for Enriten to see. The other Men in the room quickly turned away, not wanting to see the sight under the blanket.
What Enriten saw was one of the Men he had hired, laying dead and cold on the dirt floor. Grey eyes staring dry and vacantly at nothing, the corpse's skin clammy and sickly pale. But what immediately grabbed his attention however was the body's right arm, which was missing from the elbow down. What remained of it was hideously bruised and mangled.
He only raised an eyebrow at the sight, well that explained the blood. He then watched Lars thrown the soiled blanket back over the body before getting up and moving into the next room. That also explain the whereabouts of at least one Man , but what of the others?
"Where are the others?" Enriten asked, voicing his thoughts as he strolled after Lars and into the second room. This one was also lit by a few candles but it also had a small lit hearth in the far wall. As he looked around he took perticular notice of some long thick nails glowing amid the hot embers, a heavy pair of tongs lay forgotten nearby, as well as some other nasty looking implements. The air in this room was near stifling and he felt himself already begin to sweat, he also noticed that there was a strange smell in the air, like the smell of burnt flesh. Around the room there where various crates and dusty tools stacked and piled in the corners and along the walls, as with the first room there were no windows in here either.
It was in the center of the room that three thick heavy posts had been driven deeply into the dirt floor, the middle post was closest with the other two flanking it in a V formation. It was here that their captive was tied, it knelt on the floor with it's back against the thick middle post, it's broad muscular arms were held out and back to either side. It's thick wrists shackled with chains connecting to either post, firmly holding it in place. He noticed that there were also many thick ropes along with the heavy chains around it's wrists and around the outer posts, someone had also tied some rope around the Dwarf's thighs and upper calves, forcing it to stay in a kneeling position.
He was a bit surprised at the amount of ropes and chains that bound the stocky being, surly the Men were being a bit over-cautious. As for the Dwarf it's self, a long mane of thick hair obscured the creature's face, it's head hanging forward. It wore only a pair of dark trousers and a simple green sleeveless shirt, that had been ripped in several places, the rest of it's clothes having been stripped from it. The Men had clearly not been idol in their torturing, for he could see many bruises and cuts on the Dwarf's body, including several nails that had been driven into the flesh of it's thighs. The material and skin around the nails looking burnt, he quickly surmised that that was the cause of the 'burnt meat' smell from before. He also saw that it's finger tips were bloody from someone having driven slender wedges of wood under the nails of both its large hands.
He came to stand by Lars as the lanky Man glared down at the fettered creature. "Morhan is right there," he said pointing to a nervous looking Man with brown curly hair that sat on a crate in a corner of the room, as far away from the captive as possible. Enriten noticed that the nervous looking Man cradled one of his hands, which was covered in blood soaked bandages, to his chest as he slightly rocked. The curly haired Man immediately looked up with wide eyes as they came into the room and the other two Men followed Lars and Enriten into the room a moment later.
"I always make sure that someone is in here to keep an eye on him," Lars continued, motioning to the captive. "As for Gwullyn and Helric, their dead too. Same as Odren, back there."
Enriten gave a tired sigh at the news and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thin fingers. "I told you to only engage the Dwarf 'after' you hit him with the dart and to make sure his didn't have any weapons!" he said as if taking to a group of very stupid children.
"We did! We done everything you told us! He was stumbling around like a drunk after Lar's hit him with the dart and the bloody-bastard wasn't even carrying an axe when we ambushed him!" yelled the bald Man, speaking up for the first time and showing a mouth that was missing some teeth.
"Iye! You didn't tell us how strong these fucking creatures are," snarled the heavy set blond Man. Who got up from where he had taken a seat earlier near the entrance and stomped over and gave the Dwarf a kick in the ribs, causing it to grunt and bare it's teeth with a low hiss.
"He killed Gwullyn and Helric with his bare hands! Snapped Gwullyn's neck, then smashed Helric's head, poor bastard's brains be splattered all over that alley wall. Odren then tried to grab him from behind, but when the Dwarf got it's hands on em', he just twisted Odren's arm off! Poor bastard was screaming like a wraith-- we managed to get him back here, but he died anyway… Lost too much blood I think. It was everywhere!" he concluded with a sad shake of his head.
Enriten was clearly annoyed by what he heard, as he rubbed the bridge of his nose again. "I don't care about excuses!" he growled.
"Did you hear what I just said? That thing ripped off his arm!" yelled the large Man again. Now red-faced as he glared incredulously at the small thinly built Man, who only turned to look at him like one would a mentally deficient child. "Like a piece of cooked chicken!" The heavyset Man added, spit flying from his mouth as he jabbed a pudgy finger at their bound captive.
No one saw the smirk that past over the Dwarf's lips, his face still hidden from view as he quietly listened to the Men talk.
Well that explained all the extra chains and ropes, Enriten mussed to himself as he looked down once again at their unmoving captive.
"Shut your mouth, Hesphyn," Lars finally said with a grimace, from his spot next to Enriten. The image still a little too fresh in everyone's minds. Hesphyn only grumbled some more and walked over and flopped back onto his seat. Enriten, ignored the heavy set and turned his attention to their captive, not really caring what happened to any of these Men, as long as he got what he wanted.
"Well now, what have we here? The famed Gimli, son of Gloin, honored hero of the War of The Ring and trusted friend of King Elessar," Enriten said coming to stand before the prisoner.
He watched as the captive slowly raised it's head and he finally got a good look at the being's bloody and bruised face. Enriten's small eyes widened at what he saw, for the Dwarf's face was shockingly smooth and devoid of any facial hair. The creature's once prided and immaculately cared for beard was gone. Leaving a clear view of a surprisingly handsome and tanned face with high cheekbones, a small nose, as well as an unobstructed view of a pair of plump lips and a strong powerful jaw. Its bottom lip was split, with ugly purple bruising along his cheek and around his left eye as well as a trail of dried blood from it's mouth and down it's chin. He also saw that there were two deep cuts running along the right side of it's jaw, he quickly surmised that the cuts probably happened when they had shaved the Dwarf's face earlier. At the sight of him those large eyes narrowed in recognition and he watched as it's lips curled back to bare its straight white teeth as a deep and frightening growl filled the air.
The Dwarf looked a lot like a Man, though of short stature, yet there was something inhuman about it's face, the very structure of it. But mostly it was in it's eyes, those large burning brown eyes. Like the Elf, there was just something 'alien' about them. Enriten felt a small thrilling little shiver run up his spine, how many beings in all of Arda had ever seen this? Seen what truly lay behind a Dwarf's beard?
"I must say, I'm rather disappointed. I was hoping you were going to be quite ugly without all that beard. From all the stories and the way those Elvish dignitaries described your kind I thought you would be quite hideous," he said with a chuckle, watching those dark glittering eyes narrow. "Hmph! Surprise, surprise," he said as he turned to look at Lars.
"I had Morhan, give our friend here a shave before he woke up." The lanky Man said with a harsh laugh as he crossed his long arms over his chest as he looked down at the captive with a smirk. "I always wanted to see what one of these creatures looked like without all that damned hair. Now I got my answer!" he snorted. "Sides', I like to be able to see every flinch and grimace on my subjects face when I'm 'working'."
Morhan, who was still sitting in the corner, blue eyes narrowed at Lars. Noticing that the lanky Man failed to mention how the Dwarf had suddenly awoken and had promptly bitten off three of Morhan's fingers before he could jerk his hand back. Luckily for all of them they had had the presence of mind to have chained and bound the Dwarf earlier, while it was still unconscious. Since that incident Morhan had staunchly refused to get any closer to the Dwarf, bound or not.
"What have you learned so far?" Enriten asked, deciding to get down to business as he started to reach into his tunic for a small note book and stick of charcoal.
The room seem to get very quiet then as all the Men suddenly seem to look everywhere but at him.
"Well?" He urged the group, looking around at all of them and getting a bad feeling. His hand still halfway into his tunic, pausing as he waited for one of them to answer. Surly after all this time they had gotten most of the information he needed out of the Dwarf…
Finally after several more moments of silence, Lars cleared his throat and spoke. "Uh… Nothing as of yet."
"What?" Enriten yelled, his eyes going wide as he yanked his hand out of his tunic, both hands now balling into tight fists at his sides.
"It sure ain't for lack of trying!" Mumbled the ugly baldheaded Man, from where he leaned against the wall fanning himself with one of his dirty gnarled hands. Morhan from across the room shook his head in agreement.
"Why did we have to get this one again?" He asked as he glared at the brooding Dwarf while he unconsciously rubbed at his heavily bandaged hand. The constant ache of his three missing fingers paining him greatly.
"Yah! Why couldn't we have kidnapped that pretty Elf instead, eh? We could have had a lot more fun with that one, if ya know what I be meaning," Snickered Hesphyn with a slimy grin, a lecherous gleam in his light-blue eyes. His grin only got bigger as he watched the Dwarf turn it's head to murderously glare at him with a deep rumbling growl, before spitting in disgust at the heavyset Man's feet. It's thoughts made clear to all.
"Because you blithering idiot! King Elessar would notice within an hour of his disappearance- or any other Elf's disappearance for that matter." He snorted. "We'd already have half the city and the Gondor's army out looking if one of Elessar's precious Elves went missing.
Most of all you Idiots, is that the damned Elf didn't help repair and fortify the walls and gates! Did he? The Elf wouldn't know where the precise weaknesses are, all the secrete ways for an army to get into the city undetected!" he finally snapped as he began to furiously pace. Must he do everything?
The others remained silent, including the Dwarf as they watched the small Man pace quickly around the room, thinking furiously as he mumbled to himself. Finally his pacing slowed and he seem to calm down again before stopping and taking a few deep breaths. Seeming to get himself back together, he then walked over to the Dwarf again and squatted down, putting his face close to that of the Dwarf's. He didn't see how the other Men behind him shot one another knowing looks, Lars hurriedly motioning for the rest to be quiet as they smirked amongst themselves while they watched Enriten get closer to the captive.
"No, the Elf would be useless to us, but this one. Now this one here… this one is another story. You know where everything is. You and your kind help rebuild this city," He said, looking copper-haired Dwarf right in eye. "Don't you, Naugrim?"
He was however taken completely off guard by what happened next. He gave a yelp of surprise when the Dwarf suddenly lunged at him as far as it's bonds would allow. The ropes and chains groaning at the sudden force, managing to actually shake both the posts. It was only by pure luck that Enriten managed to throw himself back at the last second as sharp teeth snapped closed with a loud 'click' where his throat had been moments before.
He sat there on his rear end staring wide eyed at the Dwarf. "Traitor!" it roared in a deep voice, as it fought furiously against it's bonds.
The heavy posts shook ominously as the Dwarf thrashed against it's chains giving another angry and frustrated roar that seemed to shake the shed, the thick muscles in it's chest and arms rippling and bulging in a frightening show of barely contained strength. In the back of Enriten's mind a small voice deeply thanked Lars and the other men for so thoroughly binding the Dwarf earlier, he now wasn't sure if a simple set of chains could have held this creature.
It's bonds still stubbornly holding, the Dwarf seem to slowly calm again. "I will tell you nothing! Shit-worm!" it ground out between tightly clenched teeth, murder in it's eyes as it's struggles finally ceased.
Enriten, after a few deep breaths, managed to calm his racing heart and get up off the floor, noticing with irritation that none of the other Men in the room came over and offered him a hand up before turning to sneer down at the seething Dwarf. It's heavy breathing hissing out between it's clenched teeth at it glared up in disgust at him.
"I don't care how, just get me the information I need!" he yelled at the Men. The response he got was not the one he was hoping for however.
"I'm tired of beating him, beside he hasn't said anything since we started questioning him. Well except to curse us and our bloodlines," the heavyset Man wined as he wiped at his sweaty brow with his hairy arm.
"Nothing works, we haven't even gotten a good scream out of him yet!" the bald Man said in frustration, motioning to the wounds on the Dwarf that they had already inflicted.
"Lars did get a few tears out of him, when he drove those bits of wood under his finger nails though," Morhan added helpfully, Enriten on the other hand only angrily rolled his eyes.
"Why did I even bother highering you lot for?" He exploded, before turning his focus on Lars who was still standing next to him. "I thought you said you could make anyone talk-- that you were the best this side of Mordor!" yelled Enriten, but Lars was apparently at his own limits and snapped right back at the smaller Man.
"Listen you piece of troll dung! If I had five-- six days. There are ways! Better ways!" Lars snapped back, throwing his hands up. "You gotta break'em in the head, not the body. Shit if I had time I--"
"Time is something we don't have, fool!" interrupted Enriten with a hiss, cutting him off with a sharp movement of his hand. Everyone fell silent as they watched the small Man begin to pace again, this time with his hands behind his back as he worried his top lip.
Enriten was in a perfect snit. If he couldn't get this information he would have to scrap his original plans and try and steal the actual documents from the palace treasury, which would be next to impossible. The only venue left open at the moment was to try and continue on with his original plans, perhaps the Dwarf only need some… stronger persuasion. He stopped pacing when his eyes alighted on a rusted and dusty axe amid the debris and tools in a shadowed corner of the room. Well if nothing else, he could guarantee himself a little satisfaction that the Dwarf would suffer for it's stubborn silence, even if he didn't get the information he needed.
The others watched as Enriten walked to a shadowed corner of the room where some piled crates and tools sat.
"Consider this a test," He said, bending down and picking something up. The others watched the Man turn around with a dirty and rusted wood-chopping axe now in hand as he walked back. All the Men had their attention to Enriten, so none saw the look of fear and utter hopelessness flash momentarily in Gimli's deep brown eyes at the site of the object in the traitor's hands. The irony was not lost on the Dwarf.
Enriten shoved the axe into Lars hands, then moved to stand right before the Dwarf again. "Use the blunt side," he said to Lars even as he stared arrogantly down at the prisoner, watching as that bruised and bloody face turned up. Looking into those blazing brown eyes, those inhuman eyes that glared back at him in utter contempt and defiance.
"We don't want him going into shock and dieing on us," He continued with a smirk even though he felt a bit disappointed at not seeing not even a flash of worry or fear in those glaring almond-shaped eyes.
With that he turned and walked towards the door way to the other room, the other Men watching him go.
"I'll be back tomorrow. If he doesn't talk…start breaking his fingers-- then his hands-- then his arms," he said over his shoulder.
"Hey Enriten?" Lars called after him, the axe still in hand.
"What?" The small Man snapped, pausing in the open doorway and turning to glare back at him.
"What do we do if he still doesn't talk?"
"Anything you want. What ever is left we can sell, I know of a few black-market traders here in the city that will pay good money for real Dwarf parts," he said, thinking that he could at least make a little profit from this, if nothing else.
With that Enriten stormed out of the small sweltering shed and slammed the door behind him. Cutting off the final sight of the bound Dwarf turning it's wary attention to the two humans that advanced on him with closed fists and heavy axe.
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I'll see if people are interested in me continuing. If not I'll go ahead and post my original ending.