Lots of notes and disclaimers before you read:
I own nothing of J.R.R. Tolkien's or Peter Jackson's works. I am just borrowing everything to write how I want for entertainment only.
This is a Legolas rape fic, but was not meant to be a graphic smut story. If the idea bothers you at all, then please don't read it. Don't get me wrong, there will be some gory, vivid details that pop up to give an anchor on the feelings and trauma, but the act itself will be kept to a somewhat minimal portion.
This is also not a slash fic. I wanted to write a story that dealt primarily with heavy, emotional hardships and as an elf, I think the worst thing to be put through is being taken by force. I know the argument that an elf would die from it, but can't we pretend that it could be countered with the right love and support? I would like to think so.
This story starts off as a "hurt comfort" story then progresses and deals mostly with the emotional trauma associated with the act.
With all of the above said, Legolas is not going to be the strong happy elf we all know him to be... He will still be stubborn (as many others portray him to be), but given what Legolas has been through, he will not be quite himself. (can you blame him?)
Writing is my form of entertainment so the story will meander at times. I have no length set so I think this will become a long story. Afterall, if this did happen, I'm sure that a week of pats on the back and a few conversations wouldn't fix everything completely. An emotional wound this large will take a long time to heal…. and a long time to write. If you like to read fast paced works, you may grow tired of this quickly.
This story will use bits from both the book and movie version, but will primarily follow the movie version.
This will also be slightly AU since I am not very clear as to what happened after the war of the ring. I mean, I do know some details, but others are kinda unclear in my research. For instance, I'm pretty sure that the elven realms stayed a while after the war of the ring, but how long, relocation, when people sailed, who took over… honestly I felt like I was studying for a history exam. While I tried to stay true, I am sure there are a bit of inaccurate facts. But hey, it's only Fanfiction!
I also like to believe that Legolas and Aragorn have known each other for a long time as the last Hobbit movie suggests. This idea is even present in the LOTR movie at the council of Elrond; it is Legolas who reveals Aragorn's true identity as the lost king of Gondor. Unless the two were very good friends, I do know know why he would do that… However, I am not the only one to believe this too, so like many other stories that are out there, Aragorn and Legolas will be very close in my story, like brothers.
Well I think I am done with the blah blah blah… on to the story!
P.S. a HUGE thank you goes out to SuicidalQueen for all her help in re-wording this and dialogue ideas. Thank you Mellon!
Also a MAJOR thank you goes out to FullyAutoLxryGaySpaceCommunism for beta reading this for me and fixing all my typos. Thank you tons!
Chapter 1
The unmistakable sounds of Autumn filled the crisp air as dusk began its timely descent. Migrating geese flew far above head, their whistling wings grazed the evening sky in search of a safe roost for the duration of the night. Their flight added a brief harmonious choir to their nasally calls, cutting through the otherwise quiet landscape that rustled slightly in the passing breeze. Flushing foliage of scarlet, saffron and russet tones clung to the treetops in shaggy, wet mops after withstanding strong storms that passed through earlier. The stirring drift attempted to shake the excess moisture from the water logged branches, but it would be quite some time yet before anything could be considered dry.
The 'V' formation of waterfowl were nothing more than silhouetted figures against the large, billowing clouds that were disappearing with the fading sunlight. Their retreat was aided by the craggy ridge of mountains to the west where the light and clouds slowly slipped from sight. The stars were waking up, twinkling ever so faintly in the dimming heavens and the nearly full moon was large on the horizon. Its light was battling that of the retiring sun, but the silvery glow dominated, casting a soft radiance on thatched rooftops and clusters of buildings. Even the roads that ran between the numerous structures were set aglow with the moon's light; The torrents of rain earlier caused the dirt streets of the town to become sloppy and thick with mud. The deep puddles reflected the moon's radiant light, making the streets appear to be strewn with glass.
The sight of the isolated town stood out with ease among the natural landscape, but the forest growth around the manmade development started to encroach on the perimeter of town. What should have been well-kept now looked weary and nearly forgotten, becoming a favored pit stop for travelers rather than maintain its former glory as a real governed establishment. The war that unleashed Mordor's wrath tore into the city some years before, destroying the homes and businesses of those who once dwelled there in safety. Though the war was long over and had been for nearly a decade, many areas throughout Middle Earth found that reconstruction was slow and some places had no hope of returning to what used to be- a sad and unfortunate fate for this once lively area.
However, while the cool wind caused old buildings to creek from its pushing strain, there were many signs of life about, even as night was starting to unfold. Past the perimeter of the town, shopkeepers and merchant carts were busy closing up their businesses for the evening while trying to make last minute sales to both townspeople and travelers. Those who were using the town as a stopping point in their journeys were seeking places to stay for the night while taking note of the best places to get a hot meal and a quick drink.
Among the bustle, two odd companions traversed through the town. A tall, dark figure cut his way through the maze of people, dodging the large puddles and deep mud with nearly every step. The hood of his black leather overcoat obscured most of his features, but one did not need to glance at his face to see the dignity with which he carried himself. His gray cloak trailed slightly behind his strongly set shoulders and every now and then, the metallic flash of his broadsword gleamed in the sporadic torch light. The man did not stop in his trek across town and confidently pushed onward.
The other traveler was a stout being and rather than dodge the puddles, he trudged through them. A sturdy silver helmet rested on his head and a long, thick, rust-color beard covered much of his face, but his keen eyes were constantly sweeping the area as he followed the man before him. A hefty double-edged axe was placed at his back as it rested on top of his own grey cloak. Rather than carry a sword at his waist, another smaller ax was strapped to his hip.
"Aragorn... are ya' sure we've got the right place? I mean, you've never led us astray before, but I'm not so sure this is where we will find th' bastards!"
Aragorn chanced a glance behind him at the dwarf who was looking skeptically about the streets. He halted for a moment to let the stout being gain his side before the man resumed his march. He bowed slightly, doing his best to keep his voice low as he responded for the dwarf's ears only.
"I know not, Gimli. This place is new to me. But I'm hoping that we can at least find some information that could take us to our next lead."
"Well, I still think we should wait for the elf!" he called out in a thick, rolling accent. The man smiled to himself as he straightened up and pushed onward to the heart of the town.
"We have waited long enough, Gimli." the human responded, though this time it was a little louder as he departed from the dwarf to walk around another large puddle that stood in their way. "Legolas' journey was longer than our own. As I have said, he was coming from Northern Ithilien. Those storms earlier may have waylaid him- or even the ones that swept through yesterday."
"Right, but I think we're wastin' our time! I hate to admit it, but we're at a large disadvantage without those pointed ears of his. I can't hear near as well as he can an' I doubt you can either."
"We need to see if we can find any leads, Gimli. I will not risk letting these kidnappers get away from us yet again and it has been going on long enough. They have to be stopped. I do not know how they seem to evade our attempts to catch them, but I will not rest until these men are apprehended and their crimes are ceased. It is my responsibility to ensure the wellbeing of my people, and these men are jeopardizing the safety of everyone." Aragorn resumed his hushed tone as he vented his frustrations. "Besides, we do not know if Legolas even received the message, or if he agreed to meet up with us. We were in a rush to leave and did not exactly spare any time for a reply."
For some time now, the king had been receiving reports of kidnappers coming into Gondor and taking anyone they could prisoner. Evidence of slavery rings were starting to surface and putting the two facts together painted a dark picture. It was bad enough that countless men, women and children were being snatched away, but what exactly was happening to these people was still uncertain, although Aragorn had some grim ideas. The realm was growing more and more uneasy as the king's armies were not able to put a stop to the mad men that were still on the prowl and whispers of doubt flitted through the lands that their new king could not really protect them. Finally, Aragorn had enough and the king decided to take matters into his own hands.
Or rather, it was Gimli who pushed the idea. The dwarf was already in Minas Tirith for a social visit with his friend when he learned of the troubling news. The dwarf overheard a report given to the king that a raid had taken place earlier that day and a large quantity of people were missing as a result. Aragorn's thoughts drifted to the conversation that brought them here.
"So, Aragorn, these kidnappers... ya' say your men haven't caught them yet?" The dwarf looked concerned as he waited to hear what the man had to say. Dinner ended hours ago and the pungent odor of smoke was thick on the balcony that Aragorn and Gimli occupied. Gimli took an opportune moment to press Aragorn for more information regarding the disturbing news he overheard earlier and brought his pipe to his mouth, waiting for the king's response.
"No..." The Aragorn sighed with disappointment as he collected his thoughts to elaborate. "I have sent armies and spies nearly everywhere we can possibly go, but no arrests have been made and all leads fall flat. I have troops stationed around our borders and throughout the surrounding areas, but it's as though they know exactly where we are or know what our next move will be. We just can't stop them. I am beginning to speculate that this is not the sole doing of a single group; as the frequency of the attacks grow, I cannot fathom how it could possibly be done without numerous bands."
"An organized crime ring... That's not good." Gimli's voice was grim.
"*If* it is," the man reiterated. "We are severely lacking information so it is hard to tell how 'organized' it is or if there are several groups working independently." The king brought his own pipe to his lips and took a draw to fill his lungs.
"Well..." Gimli began, pausing as he mused over his own idea before he offered it. "Then why don't ya' take matters into your own hands, eeh?"
"Pardon?" The king quirked a brow, not quite understanding what the dwarf meant. Aragorn had been working with his troops and captains to try and put an end to these crimes, so it was not as though he was turning a blind eye and leaving it for someone else to fix- if that was what Gimli assumed.
"Oh, ya' know what they say... if ya' want somthin' done right, th' best thing to do is do it yourself." Gimli raised his pipe yet again, but he interrupted his own motions to add to his previous statement. "- Or have a Dwarf do it."
The king snorted at Gimli's proud claim, for the Dwarf would never let an opportunity pass to showcase his pride for his own race.
"I'm serious, Aragorn." Gimli heard the man's slight humor, but his idea was worth contemplating. "You were able to track a pack of orcs across the Misty Mountains and through the plains of Rohan to save the halflings Merry and Pippin just a few years ago... I'd say you are one of the best trackers in Middle Earth!"
Aragorn was quiet for some time. He was trying to find fault with the dwarf's plan, but the more the statement rolled around in his head, he started to warm up to the idea. Why couldn't he do this? He was an ex-ranger and was once the leader of the Dunedain. He could take care of himself and could wield a sword better than most. He had his steward, Faramir, who was more than capable of running the kingdom in his absence and Arwen would be less likely to give him grief for leaving it she knew it was to help the safety of the Gondorian people- her people.
"You know, Gimli, that is a fantastic idea," Aragorn stated, but his sights were staring blankly into the space before him as his mind continued to run off, formulating endless possibilities and strategies.
"I know, that's why I said it." the dwarf said bluntly, puffing a few times on his pipe, creating rapid plumes of smoke.
"I can assemble a small troop of my best men by morning. We can leave at first light-" the king began to plan out loud, but Gimli interrupted him.
"No, no Aragorn. If your men have been failing ya' this whole time as ya' just said, perhaps it's time to take this on *by* yourself, hum? Groups of people- especially soldiers- may spook them an' run them off… or worse yet, your position will be given away an' cause more issues... I mean… take the Th' Fellowship for example. Remember how an' why were structured as we were? There were only nine of us..." Gimli leveled his gaze to let Aragorn think of his own accord.
**Any more than that would've been easy to spot and the enemy could have had advantages over us by knowing where we were.** Aragorn finished the rest of Gimli's logic in his head. "I see your point…" he finally said out loud.
"Track what you can an' just gather intel that ya' can report back on first hand. Do not engage just yet... Once ya' know what you are dealing with, *then* ya' can assemble your men an' send them out on a lead, rather than sending subpar trackers out there with th' hopes of havin' somethin' done."
"It makes sense... even if it is a bit crazy... But I could, in theory, do this," the man summed up, now looking forward to present a plan of action and put it to use.
"Ya' mean 'we'." The dwarf corrected.
"We?"
"Well, I see no other dwarves around ta' ensure this mission will go right!" Gimli explained and it was only then that Aragorn realized his dwarvish friend was not exactly joking earlier with his prideful comment. Gimli's excitement was keen as the burly dwarf stood up, volunteering himself to the cause, but his smile turned a bit amused while he eyed the human beside him. "...and you shall have my ax!"
The man's face split with a wide grin remembering the last time he heard those words. Though they were directed at another person and the mission more dire, the meaning was all the same.
"And I would love nothing more! Dôlzekh menu Gimli! (dwarvish for 'thank you')"
The dwarf let out a rumbling laugh as the thrill of a new chase began to take a strong hold of the smaller being. Aragorn too stood to his feet and went to work tapping his pipe clean of the soot and ash that now filled the bowl.
"Come! Let us prepare for our journey, then!" Aragorn said. "If we are to leave at first light, we will need to pack immediately! We will need supplies and weapons-"
"Now wait just a moment!" The dwarf cried out. "What about the elf?"
Aragorn raised an eyebrow once again at the dwarf. The statement seemingly came out of nowhere and he was not following what the dwarf meant.
"What about the elf?" he questioned back.
"He should come! It will be like old times, eehh? The three hunters, trekking across th' lands in search of th' impossible ta' find and catch! Besides, if we do end up facing trouble, his quick hand at th' bowstring would come handy... and if that's the case, then I want Legolas to witness how many I can add to my score!"
**Score?** Aragorn's eyes squinted, but suddenly the king remembered the orc-slaying contest that took place between the elf and dwarf during the battle at Helms Deep and it's continuation when the War of the Ring took them into Gondor.
Gimli continued, pulling Aragorn from his thoughts once more. "I bet this time I can put him to shame!"
"Like old times..." the man smiled as he repeated the dwarfs earlier words. "...But, Legolas isn't even here. He is in Ithilien."
"Then send him word an' have him meet us out there!"
Again, the king needed to contemplate the idea before he immediately agreed to it.
Legolas Greenleaf, whom the human had known most of his adult life, was more than just a friend, Aragorn considered him to be a brother. Once Crown Prince of the Woodland Realm in Northern Mirkwood, Legolas was now residing in Ithilien with a large contingent of elves, predominantly from Mirkwood, helping to restore the broken forests to their former glory that the War of the Ring destroyed nearly a decade prior.
Aragorn nodded slightly to himself. It would be great to see his long time friend again.
"Well?" the dwarf asked as the man did not respond to the eager request.
Reality found its way into Aragorn's hopes and the man responded with a sigh. "It would take days for word to get to him. We don't have that kind of time! We need to act now before the kidnappers can gain a grander lead on us."
"Then send word by air!" The dwarf insisted. "Send it by water! ... Oh, strap a piece of parchment to th' back of a fox for all I care!"
The man snorted at the excitement the dwarf had and figured they had nothing to lose. Aragorn honestly did not think the elf would just up-and-leave his own duties behind to join the mission, especially since there were no solid plans laid out and their intended travel was vague. Trying to meet up with only a general direction in mind would be near impossible and Legolas would see that.
But Aragorn would at least send a letter to the prince, if only to appease the eager dwarf who was adamant that their elven comrade joined them.
"Very well. I will send word to Legolas. I will have a messenger falcon deliver word to Ithilien and if Legolas can make it in time, then-"
"- Then he'll be sorry he ever showed up 'cause I don't plan on lettin' that pointy-eared-elven-princeling add one mark to his score!"
"- If it came to that," Aragorn reminded the dwarf with a smirk.
"Right! Of course... if it came ta' that."
The memory faded and Aragorn turned back to the dwarf trailing behind him.
"I do not know why you are so hell-bent on having Legolas join us…. I thought you didn't want him to improve upon his score." Aragorn simpered to himself under his hood.
"In th' event that matters escalate, I want him here so he can watch *me* have all the fun. Besides, I'm sure th' lad could use a break from paying the dirt for a while. Trees and plants can only be interesting for so long."
Aragorn and Gimli reached the area during the evening hours the previous night. However, before they could make it into town, severe storms came rolling in and the man and dwarf had no choice but to seek shelter from the deluge that continued through the night and mostly the next day. Without any other choice, they ceased their journey to avoid ruining the meager provisions they carried, but were also hopeful that the break would provide an opportunity to run into Legolas, if he chose to come.
And so, they waited and scouted all night, yet Legolas did not show up.
Gimli suspected that the heavy storms and major landmarks delayed the elf in his trek, but Aragon stuck to his original his doubts. As the hours wore on with no signs of their friend nor any way to tell if Legolas agreed to meet them, Aragorn become restless. The king knew this town for what it was, and knew if any leads were to be found, the nearby travelers stop was an ideal place to start. If they waited any longer, more and more people would disperse and it would only make their efforts go to waste.
Gimli was right, they desperately needed Legolas at time like this. Their plan was to walk the streets of the town and try to eavesdrop on conversations of passers-bys or even sit in taverns and other local spots to see if anyone would spill any information. This could give them a lead that would take them to the kidnappers- a tactic Aragorn picked up from his ranger days. Legolas' sharp hearing and keen eyesight could put the trio at an advantage. But since they had no word from the elf, Gimli and Aragorn decided to forge on without him. If Legolas did make his best effort to get here, they would find him later, somehow.
After sliding into the back streets of the shanty town, Aragorn stumbled upon a tucked away tavern. It was just the type of place criminals would seek out when on the move. The wooden marking placard hung from a pole that jutted over the street, showcasing a sleeping dragon that protectively curled a mug of ale within its tail.
"I think this will do... for now." Aragorn looked to the dwarf to gauge his thoughts, but Gimli only nodded. The former ranger approached the door and pushed it open.
They were barely one step inside of the tavern when the atmosphere assaulted the king, for he had almost forgotten what these places were like. The dimly lit roadhouse was warm and stuffy inside as the smell of stale mead and pipe tobacco filled the room along with the buzzing of conversation. The bar was actually larger than it appeared from the streets, but despite its size, it was cramped inside as dozens of patrons filled the room trying to order food and drink while talking over one another.
At the far corner of the tavern, Aragorn spotted a group of men who rose from a table stacked with used dishes. They slapped some coins down on the rough wooden surface to pay their bill and began to laugh and joke amongst themselves as they staggered their way through the crowd and out of the bar.
Aragorn quickly made his way over to the dirty table to claim it for themselves. He took up a chair that would give him the best vantage point and he began adjusting his hood in a particular way so he could keep an eye on the scene before him, yet remain hidden from casual glances. Gimli trudged to his own seat across from the man and went about removing his heavy gear and helmet to get himself comfortable. This was going to be a long evening.
Some moments passed before a woman stopped by their table. She collected the empty mugs that were strewn about and began to wipe at the spilled ale with a rag in her hands. She pocketed the money that the previous occupants left then turned to the new guests with a haphazard smile on her face.
"Welcome to The Dragon Fire Inn. What'll it be gentlemen?" Her welcome was rushed as she tried to accommodate everyone in the place. She seemed to be the only one working here.
"We will take two pints. That will be all." Aragorn stated as he placed the order with the woman. She nodded and began to walk off, but was stopped as a gruff voice of disbelief piped up.
"That'll be it? Just two pints? I don't know about you, but I'm starvin'!" The dwarf looked at the lady and quickly pushed a smile on his face. "What do ya' have in the way of food, m'lady?"
"Well..." she leaned on the table and wrinkled her brow as she thought about the menu. "We have a pig roast with vegetables. Rack of lamb with rice, brisket and cornbread, hot biscuits with gravy..." The waitress went on to list out the various items that the tavern served and the dwarf placed a small order of food to keep himself content for the time being. "Anything for you hunny?" She turned back to the man.
"Just the pint for now. Thank you."
The woman looked at him cautiously for a moment, getting an eerie feeling from this individual for he never removed his hood nor did he make any attempt to look her in the eye. But then again, she had no business to judged her customers. She nodded to the hooded man and walked away to the kitchen to place the order of food with some unseen worker in the back.
No more than a minute passed before she retrieved the drinks and set them on the table for her new guests, then went about her work to tend to others by refilling mugs and running food to tables.
Aragorn took a swig from his pint, but grimaced with the sour taste of the cheap brew. Gimli caught the look and chuckled.
"To strong for ya' laddie?"
Aragorn huffed, mildly humored. "Living the royal life definitely has its perks... I think the brew masters on staff would be far more appalled that I am drinking this, than I am of myself drinking it."
"You've just been drinkin' far too much of that expensive grape juice, is all! When was the last time ya' even had a proper brew?" Gimli teased and reached for his own glass, tipping it to his lips. The man watched his every move, but was disappointed when Gimli chugged his first few sips without hesitation, then set the thick mug on the table with an audible 'clink'.
"Apparently, some time." Aragorn finally replied to the dwarf who was unfazed by the watered down taste and unbalanced flavors. Aragorn took another small sip, this time suppressing the need to make a face then unslung his pack that was still across his shoulders. He dug through the contents of his provisions and pulled out his pipe and tobacco. He swept his sights across the expanse of people while he prepped his pipe for a smoke. "Well, this certainly looks promising. There are a number of people in here. We are bound to overhear something."
"An' we are just goin' to sit here until we hear somethin'?" Gimli asked as he followed Aragorn's lead and fished out his own pipe from an inner pocket of his vest.
"Correct."
The man and dwarf worked over their pipes and eventually Gimli's food was brought out and he began to chow down. He was too involved with his food to worry about other conversation. And so, for a majority of the time, Aragorn was the only ears of the bar and he sat back in his chair to take up his spying watch.
The two sat in silence for hours, listening to the conversations that took place around them. It seemed that the occupants of the bar were only interested in the camaraderie of each other's company. The hour grew late and through the duration of time, people came and went. Nearly the same topics of discussion were brought up with every fresh round of people and Aragorn and Gimli could start to predict how their conversions would go; There would be some talk about the rain they had earlier and if this was any type of a precursor, they were in store for a long harsh winter. Boasting about good fortunes was another popular subject and then there were those who would try to offer advice to anyone who would take it. Yet, it was far more common for people to get rather sloshy and they would rant and ramble in a drunken speech that only made sense to one another.
The woman made her way back to the man and the dwarf who had several drained mugs and empty dishes at the table by now.
"Another round?" she asked as she gathered a few of the mugs.
Aragorn nodded in agreement and she walked off to fetch more mead. Only this time, her diligence to serve her customers was interrupted. She passed a table of dirty men who came in some time before and every one in the large group looked travel worn and rough.
One of them reached his hand out and grabbed the host by the waist and drew her into his lap as she gasped in irritated surprise.
"Well my lady! You've been working awful hard! Why don't you take a load off?" the man sneered. He was a thin, grubby man who looked as though personal hygiene was not a priority nor was it ever. His clothes were dirty and dark and his light colored hair was greasy and stringy as it hung around his face. It snagged in the stubby facial hair that grew in odd patches about his cheeks and chin. He had a sharp nose and his eyes were yellowed suggesting that he had spent many years smoking and drinking.
The waitress gave him an uncomfortable smile, doing a remarkable job in keeping her cool. She shifted the empty mugs in her position to one hand while trying to stand up, but the man would not let her.
"Pardry, I think you've had far too much this evening." She scolded and gave him a stern look. Obviously this man was a regular for the waitress addressed him by name. Pardry grinned, but it was unknown if he heard her comment or if he chose to ignore it.
"Rather, I have something hard... would you like to take my load off, dear?" All of the men at the table burst into laughter at the crude joke. It was clear he was intoxicated and without any kind of regard, he snaked his hand up her waist towards her chest, intending to palm one of her breasts.
Yet, she smacked the filthy hand away before its destination could be reached.
"If you would *please* excuse me! I have more impressive *loads* to tend!" she spat her reply to Pardry. Forcefully, she stood to her feet to break his grasp and huffed off.
The stunned men looked at each other before another roar of laughter was ignited.
It took some time, but the woman returned to Aragorn and Gimli and placed the refreshed mugs on the table before them. Her cheeks were flushed and she kept her eyes downcast as she grabbed the last of the empty dishes that were left on their table. She made her way back to the bar to dispose of the dirty dishes, but as she dodged the crowd that shifted around, she found herself in close proximity of the table of rowdy men. Quickly, she squeezed between the occupants of the tavern to get away as fast as possible. She did not want trouble.
Pardry had his eyes on her the whole time. In her passing, he reached out and pinched the waitress' bottom through her skirt.
The woman whirled around and landed a well-deserved slap across Pardry's face, pushing the man's head aside slightly.
He scrambled to his feet.
The man grabbed at the waitress who was now trying to walk away, but he caught her by the arm and yanked her close before he violently grabbed the waitress by the shoulders. The dishes she carried clashed to the floor and he began to shake the waitress as his fingers dug into her.
"You little bitch!" he growled and raised his hand to strike the hostess in his fit of rage.
Aragorn jumped up and quickly closed the distance between Pardry and himself. Before the traveler could swing his arm, Aragorn's strong grip clamped down on his wrist, stopping the forward motion. The drunk man peered into the shadows of the hood that hid most of Aragorn's face, but he was surprised to find angry, silver eyes glaring at him, daring him to make another move. It was a warning to back down.
Aragorn's voice was low and full of disgust as he addressed the traveler. "Touch her again, and I will be more than happy to drag you out of here, tie you to a tree and leave you for a warg toy."
The traveler looked Aragorn straight in the face as he tried to pull his arm free of the vice-like grip, but to no avail.
"Will you now...? Sir, do you have any idea who I am?" Pardry spat.
"No, nor do I care. I do not make idle threats. Leave her alone unless you would like to explain who you are to a pack of filthy wargs."
The traveler squinted and pursed his lips. He did not like to be challenged, but something told the man not to push his luck. With a shove, Pardry reluctantly let the woman go and snatched his arm out of the firm grasp, taking his seat while glaring at Aragorn all the while.
"Eehh, I've had better…" the traveler said flippantly to shake off the encounter and playoff his surrender with indifference. He turned to the retreating waitress and shouted over the crowd; "Hell, I've had better tonight and it wasn't even a woman, you filthy whore! You hear that?! A man is prettier than you!"
Aragorn stalked back to his table and sat down, but he kept his eye on the rowdy bunch. Pardry turned his attention back to Aragorn and pointed a grubby finger directly at the disguised king.
"Do that again, and you'll see the light of day from your shallow grave." It was a hard threat.
Gimli stood to his feet intending to start confrontation on his own, but Aragorn reached across the table and stopped the dwarf before he could further anger the travelers.
"Pay them no heed Gimli, they are hardly worth our time." Aragorn spoke low to keep his words from the travelers, but Gimli heard him with full clarity. Reluctantly, the dwarf plopped back down in his seat, mumbling under his breath.
The traveler called out to his fellow companions in a mocking tone; "Look! He's got a trained pet! It can sit! I wonder if it can do any other tricks?"
The men at the table burst out in a roar of laughter and Gimli let out an angered growl as he sprang to his feet once again.
The travelers looked at the irate dwarf which only fueled their amusement. By this time, the other men were eager to cast their own insults at the hooded man and dwarf and they began to speak up.
"Hey! You better keep him on a short leash! Pets aren't allowed in taverns!"
"There's a horse post on the other side of the block; you can hitch him to it if you want!"
"Don't do that! The posts are for horses, not pack mules!"
By now, the men were laughing so hard, tears were rolling down their faces and their crude comments flooded the bar.
Suddenly, there was a loud metal ringing that pierced the room. A man in a stained white apron stood in the entrance of the kitchens with a large cast iron pot in his hands. He was beating it with a metal ladle in an attempt to gather everyone's attention. The tavern grew silent as they regarded the cook, who seemingly came out of nowhere.
"Gentlemen, now listen! I thank you for your patronage, but we do not want trouble! We will not tolerate this kind of behavior, especially from full grown men! If this continues, I must ask you to leave immediately!"
The occupants of the bar were quiet for a moment, their eyes were locked on the cook who sensed trouble.
When no one challenged the cook, he lowered the pot in his hands. "Very well then!" he headed for the back room from where he had come.
The tavern remained quiet for a while, but soon the buzzing returned as the guests resumed talking among themselves once more. The rowdy travelers turned back to their table, but Aragorn kept his ears locked on them.
It wasn't long before another man from the group spoke up hesitantly. He dared to ask the question that was on everyone's mind.
"So... a man? ... Pardry, you... you've uh... you've slept with a man?" The disbelief was evident in his voice as he addressed the rather scandalous topic.
A smirk spread across Pardry's face and he took another drink from his mug. He set the metal cup down on the table, grinning slyly as he spoke. "Well... male, yes. But a man?..." He leaned over the table and motioned for his men to do the same so he could relay some kind of secret.
Aragorn strained to hear what Pardry had to say, but his words were lost over the roar of the tavern.
Suddenly the company of men sat back in their chairs, their faces were that of shock and disbelief.
"Are you serious?" another asked.
Pardry tilted his head and replied "I swear the truth on King Elessar himself!"
Aragorn and Gimli exchanged puzzled looks. The disguised king leaned towards his friend. "Perhaps they are talking about some sort of slavery. We might find our men tonight after all." Gimli remained composed, but he too trained his ears to the conversations taking place at the other table while doing his best to look uninterested.
"And when did this happen?" Someone else from the table piped up.
"This afternoon. One of our customers told me about it. Remember the young man who bought the orc bow from us? Well, we were talking and he told me where I could find his owner. Once we packed up, I took a little trip to take care of... well..." Pardry's smirk depend as he bragged about his private endeavors. "...to uh... 'take care of my business'." Pardry said off-handedly, but grinned sheepishly before he lifted his mug to his lips again, looking at the expressions on his companion's faces over the thick brim of his mug.
"*That's* were you were?" Another from the party huffed. "Well, Pardry, I'm glad to know you were off taking care of your *urges* rather than help us pack up and prepare for tomorrow."
Pardry squinted his eyes and regarded the sarcastic statement with a frown. "I'm glad to know you're finally pulling your weight and can manage without a nursemaid present to tell you how to pack and get ready for tomorrow." He slurred back.
The atmosphere around the table was getting tense and the challenger took a breath to say something back when another from the group cut in, trying to diffuse the fight that would likely occur if the conversation stayed on the path it was heading down.
"So Pardry- I didn't know there was a brothel around here!" There was a glint of hope in his eyes as he tried to milk more information out of his comrade for his own personal time.
"There isn't. I had to go to a guy who was selling it." Pardry took another drink. "But damn, his owner was making so much money- and he only had just the one to sell! Makes me think we're in the wrong business, boys!" Pardry said with a chuckle.
Another spoke up, but it was clear by his face that the man was repulsed. "Did you really fuck it after so many others?... That's disgusting."
"Nah," Pardry dismissed the concern with the wave of his hand. "...it really wasn't any different than a whore-house... well, except it was kept tied up so he can't fight you and I think it was at least partially drugged so you are guaranteed your time. He is also..."
Aragorn had heard enough. He cut his senses off from the table shortly thereafter. He had no desire to hear any more recall of some poor soul's rape. He drew close to the dwarf and spoke quietly.
"Foul deeds are taking place in this town, Gimli."
"Aye. It's disturbing- all of it."
"I think we should head out. We maybe able to find this place Pardry was speaking of and at least free those who are trapped. We are outnumbered, but at least we can try..."
"And if not, we can still get some good information if we're able ta' find them."
"Agreed." Aragorn called the waitress over to their table so they could pay their bill, then the duo set to work gathering their belongings and left.
It was well into the night and the once faintly lit streets were cold and dark as the sun had set hours ago. The sky held a few clouds that were passing by, but otherwise the sky was unblocked and the stars were littering the sky. The man and dwarf stepped away from the tavern's door then paused to contemplate their next move. Each were lost in thought but the dwarf was the first to speak.
"Those men..." Gimli huffed and let the statement trail off.
Aragorn sighed as he cast his sights on the starry sky, seeking comfort from the sparking lights as he often did when troubled.
"Unfortunately, there is still evil in Middle Earth. I will never know why anyone would want to own another man, and it sickens me think that that there are others out there who would sell the bodies of others, especially without their consent."
The door to the tavern opened suddenly and both the man and the dwarf looked to see the waitress stepping out and closing the door behind her. She looked up with a gentle smile on her face and began to approach them.
"Um... hi," she said somewhat shyly. "Listen, I... I just wanted to thank you for what you did earlier..."
Aragorn smiled and nodded his head "'Tis not a problem. I am sorry however for having to leave you here with those men."
"I should be used to it by now, but Pardry is a regular around here. Though he has had an awful lot to drink tonight, he is normally bearable," she said as she flashed the two with a concerned smile. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't talk about our customers this way, I mean after all, if we didn't have them, I would not be dutifully employed... But I just wanted to thank you for what you did. That could have been nasty."
Aragorn regarded the waitress. His eyes narrowed as she spoke. "You say he is a regular? Do you know anything about him?"
"Like what?"
"Anything... anything at all. Is he from around here?"
"No he is not. I'm not sure where he is from but he travels in and out of the area constantly. He is an arms dealer. From what I can gather, he is able to find the weapons of orcs and other foul beasts that were confiscated off of the battlefields in Minas Tirith after the war several years ago. He sells them in the illegal markets to make a living and the men who are with him are his friends who are all in the same business. Haven't seen him in a few seasons, but it seems he will be around for a while again."
The news disturbed Aragorn and he glanced at the dwarf who was no less thrilled. He thought he had ordered the bodies and weapons of the enemy to be buried in a location where they could not be discovered. Yet now, the crude weapons were resurfacing and were falling into the hands of men. He filed the information for later, he would have to talk to his advisors when he got back.
"Does he sell in this town?" the dwarf piped up, his thoughts mirrored those of Aragorn's and he tried to get more information on the matter.
The waitress looked at the two and eyed the weapons they carried. "Why do you fine men have need for such foul possessions?" She thought that these travelers were good men, not the same greedy folk that passed through on a regular basis.
Aragorn's voice was calm despite the dread that was building inside him. "What those men are doing is dangerous. If those weapons fell into to the wrong hands, who knows what damage could be done. After all, there was a reason why those weapons were confiscated."
"And you mean to stop them? I hate to say it, but Pardry and his men are not the only ones. They may have a larger operation than some, but there are many more that pass through here and run the same business. You two will not be able to stop them all."
"What about the other markets that run here? Pardry was talking about... slaves?" Aragorn said delicately.
The waitress dropped her gaze, obviously she was uncomfortable with what Aragon was talking about.
"Sir, I am sorry, I am not but a waitress. I have no dealings with any kind of brothel... or whatever you may call *that*." She sighed. "even so, I should not rat my customers out to you like that. I know what they are doing is wrong, but If their businesses fail or if they are taken to prison, ultimately, my business will fail. I have a family to feed."
Aragorn reasoned with the woman. "You may have a family to feed, but think of those being forced into this situation who have families to feed as well. Families that they will never return to. Families who miss them, who need them."
The woman looked away from the two and Aragorn noted the way the waitress reacted to statement. She crossed her arms and bit her lower lip slightly while shaking her head. A look of either worry or loss painted her face as she let out a heavy sigh. Aragorn has struck the right nerve in her as the thought broke her heart.
Then, a light breeze drifted through the alley. It seemed to suddenly push the waitresses' attitude and it changed. Her posture did not move an inch, but her eyes locked on the two travelers and squinted, determined to hold onto her information. "And how do I know you are trying to put a stop to this rather than go find this *slave trader* and just use that poor soul for yourself?"
Aragorn was actually taken aback. He was slowly getting used to being a king and no one dared talk back to him, or challenge his motives. A lopsided grin spread across his face as he shook his head. The woman had a point, yet he was certain if he revealed who he truly was and what he was doing, the woman would not believe him.
It took a moment for Aragorn to come up with an answer and the waitress cocked an eyebrow as if to mock the man that she had a valid point and the man did not.
"Are the slaves not already condemned to that fate? If I do not buy into it, someone else will. At least there is a chance I will do something about it."
"An' we will do what we can ta' help those caught an' put an end ta this foul trade." The dwarf added to try and make a better point, but the woman shot the dwarf a glare as if daring to prove his statement.
Yet even as she looked at the dwarf, the words of the man struck the same chord within her soul and she thought about those who were held hostage and were forced to hideous fates. She knew giving in was the right thing to do, she just hoped that she didn't jeopardize her job. She did not look at the men as she spoke. Her voice was low and soft as she gave in.
"The northern end of town is mostly abandoned. I know not what goes on there, only it is a place you do not want to be by yourself, especially in the dark... That may be the best place to start your searches."
The man and dwarf looked at each other and nodded before Aragorn turned to the waitress and tipped his head.
"Thank you." he said. The waitress nodded to the pair as they walked off, headed for the northern end of town. Pardry's voice could be heard in the streets as he called out for another round of ales. She hurried inside to tend to her guests.