Deadly Arrows

Rating: R for torture. If you have problems with medieval torture devices, or vague suggestions toward them, I suggest you do not read this.

Disclaimer: I disclaim. Most of the characters are not mine, though there are some inserts. Another note: the evil plot-bunny that bit me isn't mine either. That was borrowed (with permission) from Julia.

Summary: Aragorn is captured by the half wraith, Nirkanta. Many elves are searching for him, but some them never return. A new weapon is being devised... one that will change the lives of Elves forever.

A/N: Maybe the torture is unrealistic (as someone had pointed out). I really do not care. As long as I inflict lots of damage on Estel I'm happy. This story was written for my entertainment… mostly.

(As of 3/11/07) -- I do apologize for the slow posting. Goodness -- It's been what? Easily over a year, if not even more? Well, I've gone through and edited a few things, and added a sentence here or there in these first two chapters, and actually posted a third despite everything that's gone on in real life. Apologies again.


Aragorn was unconscious by the time Kanta returned. "We have work to do." She growled at the orcs, sweeping in. A large warg followed her, saliva dripping from its mouth. She jerked the carefully placed spikes out of the ranger's back and tossed them carelessly into the box. "Grishnmac, wash those. We can't have the human dying too quickly, especially from infection. Lower him."

The orcs quickly obeyed, laying the human on the ground.

"Do your job, Skald." The half wraith hissed to her pet. "Do not hurt him."

The warg stepped forward, sniffing. A long tongue, coated with slobber, struck out. He licked up the blood and wounds, leaving a thick coat of sticky saliva on the ranger's back. Unknown to humans, warg saliva had healing powers: it sped up the clotting of the blood. The orcs had, in their alliance with the intelligent wolves, had discovered this quality and put it to their wicked uses.

"Lucky he's out." Seul grunted. "Wimp would have screamed his head off, had he the energy."

"Doesn't know how to accept what's good for him." Kanta muttered, watching Skald carefully. "Skald is to come in here twice a day with his 'medicine'. In a few more days, he will be ready again. In the meantime, Acnios can provide food for him." She knew that the orc would do no such thing; he would eat the food in front of the famished human and gloat.

"He will starve if Acnios feeds him."

"You -will- make sure that the human receives enough to keep him living." She glared, disapproving of her captain's questioning.

"Apologies mistress. I will take care of it." He bowed his head.

Once the bleeding stopped, Skald wobbled back to his master and sat down, waiting patiently.

"Carr, feed him." The orc in question pointed to the door, and Skald started off, with him trailing behind, careful not to get too close to the animal.

"Amsio, start preparing the pit and oiling the manacles, the smallest ones," she commanded, observing the human on the floor with cold eyes. "Hope he has good aim or you will be cleaning up after him." The pit was just that; a pit. Manacles hung from the ceiling over it; the victim was usually hung from them, their whole weight supported on either their wrists, ankles, or, if Kanta felt like it, their fingers, for a time. With the pit, flogging posts were unnecessary, not to mention that it was easier to clean.

"Yes, mistress." A big orc bowed then left the room, leaving Kanta and her captain alone in the room.

A few more days… Kanta eyed the human. Soon, she will have the information she wanted, and maybe a few elves to try her newest toy on. The time was drawing nearer, and she had a job to accomplish for her Lord.

"Mistress?" An orc stuck his head through the door. He seemed hesitant, and his eyes shone with fear.

"Speak, Llikdaor," she narrowed her eyes. He had better have a good reason for disrupting her: despite being a subordinate of Uilz, he should have known better. Kanta made a mental note to tell Uilz to come himself, instead of hiding out in their lookout forts and sending his pawns to report in.

"His would-be-rescuers are on the false trail now. Ikegsn is reporting their progress to me. There are five on his tail; four males and one female."

"Very well. You have set the trap properly, have you not?" She inquired, staring at the orc with cold eyes.

"Yes mistress. Down to the very last detail. Seul can confirm that; he watched us while we worked." Llikdaor nodded vigorously. His hands gave a twitch that betrayed his nervousness – Kanta was known to brutally kill those who displeased her. 'After all', another orc had told him, 'we orcs are expendable… she could always find better ones.'

"Good. Make sure they don't stray from the path, as the elves are bound to do. Your kinds destructiveness might ruin it all, but you -will- catch them and bring them to me."

"As you wish," he scurried off.

"Watch that one closely. He is uncertain of exactly what his orders are, no matter how clearly I say them," Kanta told Seul, her eyes fixed where Llikdaor had been.

"He is still young."

"Not that young in the reckoning of the Orcs. Your race is dying, quickly, due to the accursed elves and humans. There are not many that have survived to your age."

"Yes, we have fallen from our places of power, ever since He was disembodied." Seul recalled the sayings of his maker.

"He will return, and soon." She murmured. Indeed, her dark heart had sensed a growing evil; the reappearance of her father had enforced the feeling. Soon, all will be set right again... "We will rise again to our old glory; nothing can stop us."

--

A few days ago...

"Hey, I can do it if you guys would just let me!" An indignant voice rang out through the forest.

"Sure you can, Estel... like the time when you went and managed to get trampled by the very prey you were hunting?"

Soft elven laughter followed the statement, causing the human to blush. "That was an accident, El! How was I to know that--"

"Excuses, excuses. Estel, everyone knows you're a horrible shot... especially having been taught by Noldor elves," A teasing voice cut him off. His words elicited some resentful cries from the other elves.

It was simply one of those fine days when no one could stand staying inside longer than they must. Instead of allowing the young ones sit around complaining of boredom, or creating mischief in his house, Elrond had assigned them to go restock the cellar; this idea was taken up quickly by the elves, and within half an hour, they had bugged the cook for lunch, saddled up their mounts, and set off merrily. The six of them were riding toward one of the better hunting grounds, about three hours ride away from Rivendell, and to pass the time, they chose to play their favorite game of teasing the human and each other.

"I'd be careful if I were you, -dear- prince," Elladan growled playfully, nudging his mount closer to Legolas'. "You might just find yourself on the wrong end of a few arrows..."

"As if you could hit him. He's right, you know; Noldor elves simply can't shoot." Lingalad said innocently. He was riding beside his brother, and was glad that Legolas was between him and Elladan.

"Oh, so we can't?" Elrohir queried, turning his head to the right to grin wickedly at his friend. "Then pray tell why it was that I beat you in the last archery match we held?"

"Actually, El, Elladan won that one." Estel pointed out to his brother. He was glad that the subject of their teasing had moved on, and now felt more inclined to return the favor.

"Close enough. My point is, we still managed to beat them, and now they say we can't shoot."

Legolas glared over at his brother. "It's not my fault that Lin's arrow caught on a draft and flew ten feet too far! If it wasn't for that, we'd have beat you."

"Children! Stop squabbling back there!" Elwen, their friend and the eldest of all of them, called back from a few feet in front of them. "Lin, you would have beat Elrohir had you actually thought about shooting instead of winning."

"I did think about shooting!" Lin gave his horse a prod, and Lómil increased his pace to catch up with Elwen. "Though," he added quietly, now that he was beside his friend, "I was thinking more about how to shoot Arwen, who had been striding up the hill at the time."

"Lin!" Elwen gave him a scolding smack upside the head, though she couldn't keep the laughter from her voice. "That--"

"Just don't tell the others. Estel would have my hide if he knew..." He winked. The two of them had been hunting partners for centuries, and they shared a common dislike of Elrond's only daughter, Arwen.

"Knew what?" Elladan's voice floated up to them. The four of them, Elladan, Elrohir, Legolas, and Estel had been arguing amongst themselves about who was a better archer up until that point.

"Oops," Lin ducked his head. "Nothing, El." He responded innocently.

"I'll beat it out of you if you won't tell me!"

"All right... if you can catch me!"

"Is that a challenge?" Elladan questioned. "You think Rochel here can't surpass Lómil?"

"Exactly that," He lowered his voice, "Come on, Lómil, lets show El what we're made of." Lómil whinnied, then, having been given permission to race, sped off, leaving a startled Elladan behind.

"Not fair!" The Noldor elf cursed, urging Rochel to her full speed.

The others moved off to the side to let him pass. Laughing, they followed the two at their own leisurely pace, making bets on who would win.