Thank you for dropping by! This story is a spin off of my story Hand in Hand at the request of 's no need to read it to read this story, or vice versa. I will be keeping it fairly short, however, if it comes to it, I'll continue longer. The title is from Hurts by Emelie Sande.
Elenwë dashed through the burnt, tired expanse of dead trees and his bare feet slammed against the rigid stone. The sun was shining, and he threw up his arm to shield it from his eyes. His heart was beating too fast to feel like anything less than a hummingbirds wings. He looked behind him, his eyes searching for any sign of resistance. He could hear grunts, and he suppressed a panicked cry, and bit his knuckles. His partner was nowhere to be found, and he ignored the fearful tears that spattered onto his temples. He found a fallen hollow tree trunk full of dead leaves. The smell of decay and the 4 inches of gunk didn't stop him from jamming his body into the log, tearing the skin from his shoulders. He hurriedly kicked the muck over his feet and shivered, waiting. He could see his breath, floating toward the opening of the log in one slow, graceful fog.
An orcs face appeared and he suppressed a scream, the other tearing him from the log, repeeling the skin from his arms and leaving it inside the log.
"Trying to play hide and go seek?" The Orc laughed and Elenwë screamed, agonizing bile rising in his throat. He'd been caught. He was going back, and he'd lose a limb for sure. The Orc was suddenly on the ground, a stick wedged into his head. His escape partner was standing there, blood on his face.
"Let's go."
The other Orc growled and he clubbed him with a branch, knocking him to the ground.
"Alinon!" Elenwë cried, and he helped him to his feet.
"Let's go, we do not have much time."
They dashed through the forest, and Elenwë could hear steps not far behind them.
"You must keep going," Alinon whispered, "Do not stop running. Do not stop, Elenwë."
"I cannot leave you-"
"I cannot run any longer," Alinon breathed. His ankle was bleeding. "But you can. Go. I will find you."
"Alinon-"
"Go!"
Elenwë took off with a shot, the roar of orcs filling the field. Elenwë ran and ran until the sun was nearly ready to set, and he stepped on a sharp rock and fell. His foot was torn open, and he realized most of his body was covered in blood. He sat between two tree trunks and wiped at the blood on his foot, wiping it on the grass. He whimpered, looking around the field. He soon rose and limped between the trees until he found a road, and followed alongside of it, a safe distance. He slept alongside a tree, shivering and starving. He was used to the sensation, but now he wasn't sure how to get food. Or water. Or clothes. He heard dogs barking and whimpered, crawling up into the tree with weak desperation. His ribs scraped against the bark, and he climbed as high as he could before the dogs were upon him. They snapped up at him, and he hugged his knees to his chest and rocked, watching them.
"Please," he whispered, tears falling down his cheeks.
"By the valar!" Someone shouted, and he flinched, climbing up higher into the tree.
"Silence!" the man called and the dogs stopped barking. "What is that?" He asked his companion on the horse next to him.
"He is, of the eldar-" he whispered.
"Hey you!" He called and Elenwë flinched. "Come down!"
"You must be more gentle," The other said, "clearly, something has happened here."
He walked over to the tree, and looked up at him. "Come, now. We do not wish to hurt you. We wish to help you." Elenwë stared. The man began to scale the tree, and Elenwë tensed.
"Do not fear," the man said and reached his branch, putting out his hand. "My name is Hered. What is yours?"
Elenwë didn't answer, and Hered didn't move.
"Come down with me, I would like to help you. I have food and water. Medicine." Elenwë twitched, his stomach growling.
"I am not going to keep you hostage," He pulled out his canteen, "here."
Elenwë took it from him and drank the water dry with passion, water running down his chin.
"I have plenty more. Come now." Elenwë turned to look at him and his face was kind. He put out his hand.
"I will help you down so you do not hurt yourself." Elenwë took his hand hesitantly and Hered climbed from the tree and helped him down. He fell into his arms, and hid his face in Hered's warm fur cloak. It was soft, made for a prince.
"By the valar," The other said, "Look at his face. He is some mutilated thrall of Morgoth." Elenwë hid his face in the other man's cloak again.
What was wrong with his face? No one else had ever said anything.
"Leave him be," The other said and ran his hand over the back of Elenwë's matted hair. He untied his cloak and Elenwë watched, fearful. He wrapped it around Elenwë's shoulders and he gasped, the soft warmth of the velvet within shocking to his rough skin. Hered lifted him up onto the horse, and sat behind him.
"He is an elf. What are we to do with him?"
"I do not know," Hered said and wrapped his arms around Elenwë to grab the reigns.
"Lead the way."