A/N I want to thank horseyyay for helping me write the single scene between Azgad and Celebrían. I must say that it is better than anything I could ever have written on my own. *shudders*
Warning: This chapter involves dark themes. Read with caution.
Faron had no idea when unconsciousness overtook him in the middle of the night. He was only aware of something velvety and wet nudging him gently, urging him to awaken from his deep slumber. Faron attempted to fight whatever was trying to rouse him, as he knew the moment he opened his eyes and tried to move, his body would assail him with unimaginable pain. However, the hidden entity attempting to arouse him would not relent, so Faron had no choice but to wake up.
As he slowly opened his eyes, the first thing he noticed was bright sunlight blinding him. Instantly, Faron tried to shield his eyes from the light, but as soon as he attempted to move his arm, a sharp agonizing pain radiated up his arm to his back.
Faron bit back a cry lowering his arm and tried to close his eyes once more, wanting nothing more than to fall asleep never to wake up again if only the pain would leave, but that was not to happen. The minute he tried to close his eyes, his four-legged companion would nudge him anew, each time slightly firmer than the last until he had no choice but to get up.
Faron finally gave into his horse's prodding and made to get up, but it was no use, he had no strength left in him to stand. "I cannot get up, my friend; I am too weak. It is best you just leave me here," Faron said, his pain filled eyes starting to close once more.
His horse sensing his friend's pain and inability to get up bent down on his front legs nudging him as if telling him to get on. At first, Faron had no strength to grasp on to his horse's mane, each time losing his grip as the faithful companion tried to lift him up. But after about the fourth attempt, Faron was finally able to keep his grip and slowly pulled himself on.
The Captain of the Guard patted the neck of his steed. "Thank you, my friend," Faron said as the horse began to trot off towards Imladris slowly. Faron did not know just how much longer he would be able to remain in his conscious state, as each movement and bump wracked his broken body more and more into darkness. "I must stay awake," he told himself over and over.
As the early morning hours approached, Elladan and Elrohir awoke from their reverie, neither of them getting much rest the night before. Thoughts of their mother raced through their minds as they quickly packed up their belongings and got on their steeds. Making sure no trace of the fire from the night before remained, Cabedir and Glândir mounted their horses to make the rest of the journey back to Rivendell as quickly as possible.
Elrohir secured himself on his mount and pointed him in the right direction. "We must move now; there is no time to spare. Each passing moment our mother remains in possible danger," Elrohir sternly said as he nudged his horse towards home.
Elladan agreeing with his twin, urged his horse into a quick gallop as the others quickly followed suit. The two were in such a hurry to reach home Elladan failed to notice the sharp slope ahead. Rounding the corner at top speed, his horse slipped and started to slide down the steep hill. Elrohir's eyes grew wide with fear as he saw his brother begin to fall over the edge. "Elladan!" Fortunately, Elladan caught himself at the last minute and pulled his horse back up to safety.
Cabedir sighed in relief when he had seen what happened. "My lords, I know you are worried about your mother and are in a hurry to reach home, but it will do no one any good if in your haste one of you becomes injured. I suggest we slow down, so we reach our destination in one piece."
The twins looked at one another in a mixed emotion of frustration and agitation. They wanted nothing more than to protest and scream their mother needed them, but deep down they knew Cabedir was right. What good would they be to their mother or father if they ended up injured or even killed themselves? Elladan sighed in defeat. "You are right Cabedir. We must slow our pace down, but please let us continue." He then motioned for the others to follow close behind.
Meanwhile, barely half alive, Faron tried to grip his horse's mane tighter to keep himself from falling off as they neared the borders of Rivendell. Faron didn't know why, but as he came closer, he felt a sense of hope wash over him. Perhaps deep down he knew he lay at death's door, but whatever the reason, Faron pushed on harder, faster than before hoping he would survive at least long enough to tell Elrond what happened.
A little past noon, Elladan and Elrohir came charging through the gates of Rivendell.
Pacing back and forth in his quarters, Elrond heard the horn of his eldest son announcing their arrival. Elrond wasted no time in rushing out to meet them, not even aware Glorfindel, Lindir, and Erestor followed closely by.
Elrond winced when he saw the worn look on his sons' faces. However, he knew telling his sons to rest would be pointless, for like him they would want to set out immediately to search for their mother.
Elladan had barely dismounted his horse before rounding on his father. "Father, what news have you on mother?" he asked trying to not sound like a frightened elfling.
"Easy my sons'," Elrond said embracing them firmly. "I do not have any more news than what you already know. Let us have a quick meal and discuss our options at what our best course of action should be."
Elrohir started to protest, but a stern look from his father made it clear there was no room for arguments. Giving his brother an impatient look, they followed their father, Glorfindel, Erestor, and Lindir to the Council Room. After a short meal and a long discussion, they finally came to an agreement the best plan of action would be to go out and look for Celebrían and bring her back home even if it was just a false alarm.
Everyone agreed Erestor would take over running Rivendell as Elrond would join in the search. As he was the best healer, it would be pointless in asking him to remain behind.
After all the plans were in order, Glorfindel left the room to gather as many Elven warriors they could spare while the twins replenished their supplies. Meanwhile, Elrond went into the main healing room and grabbed all the healing equipment he could carry as he had no idea what he would run into or what condition his wife would be in if she was indeed hurt.
Several hours later when everything was in order, the search party which consisted of Elrond, his sons', Glorfindel and a large group of elite warriors met at the front gates. Elrond embraced his advisor and friend. "We will be back as soon as we can. A fortnight if everything goes as planned."
Erestor smiled returning the embrace. "Safe travels, my lord."
Elrond pulled back starting to mount his horse. Before he could finish, a lone figure came into view barely sitting upright on their horse. Glorfindel recognizing at once who it was felt his blood run cold. "My Lord Elrond, it is Faron!" he shouted running as fast as he could to his friend's side.
Wasting no time, Elrond followed Glorfindel, and soon they arrived at Faron's side just as he began to fall off his mount. Glorfindel caught him gently laying him on the ground supporting his head. Elrond and Glorfindel exchanged distressed looks when they saw the condition of their friend. Neither of them knew how it came to pass he still lived much less travel.
Kneeling, Elrond laid his hand on Faron's chest. "Faron, what happened? Where are the others?" he asked looking around as if he was expecting to see his wife and the others enter the gates behind Faron.
Faron reached up to Elrond gripping the raven-haired lord's robes tightly. "Orcs attacked us...there were too many of them…" Faron spluttered, gasping for air. "Forgive me, my lord. I tried to save them…I failed you." Tears spilled down his cheeks; his body convulsing in pain.
Elrond shook his head a sad smile playing on his face as he took hold of one of Faron's cold hands. "No, my friend, you did not fail me. I am sure you fought bravely and did all you could. But where is my wife, did she die?" Elrond didn't want to sound heartless, but he needed to know if she still lived.
Faron weakly shook his head his breathing now coming in short gasps. "I know not my lord…when I awoke, I searched for her…neither her nor Tinil's bodies were among the dead. I believe they may still be alive… but I know not for how long or in what condition...a poisoned arrow struck Lady Tinil; I fear she may be dead by now." Faron struggled to breathe and as Elrond made to help him Faron's eyes rolled in the back of his head and his head fell limply in Glorfindel's arms.
"Farewell, my friend. May you find peace," Elrond whispered to Faron letting go of his hand. Paling he got to his feet quickly. "We must move now. We do not have much time if we are to find Celebrían and Tinil." Elrond motioned for one of his local healers, Míriril to take the body of Faron and lay him to rest. Elrond gently laid his hands on Glorfindel's shoulders. "He is at peace now. Know he fought bravely."
Glorfindel fought back the waves of emotions that were running through his mind. He was aware that Elrond was right, but he couldn't help but feel like he failed his friend. The two of them had been through so much together, had fought side by side together, and now he was gone. Glorfindel felt torn. He wanted to be the one to put Faron to rest, but he also knew Elrond needed him as well.
After several minutes, he handed Faron over to Míriril and walked over to Asfaloth. He would go with Elrond and help him find his wife, and then he would avenge his friend. He would not have Faron's death be in vain. "Let us go now," he said with a hidden rage in his eyes.
The others mounted their steeds and as the sun slowly started to set the group set out at once following the path they knew Celebrían's escort was likely to have taken. They traveled hard and fast, not stopping even to sleep as they knew time was against them and the longer they took in finding the ellith, the less likely they would be alive when they did.
Eventually, the party was forced to stop and rest as their horses were beginning to exhaust. As Elrond stared into the night, he could hardly contain the fear and anger running through him. So help me she had better be alive and unharmed when I find her, or there will be nowhere for any of these spawns of Morgoth to hide when I find them, he thought angrily.
Celebrían had seen neither hide nor hair of her captors since they left her to writhe in pain as her skin erupted into boiling lava. She drifted between the comforting darkness of unconsciousness and the fiery reality of the waking world until finally, reality only consisted of the all-encompassing ache of her wounds. She half-lay, half-sat, her arms chained above her head, desperately wishing she could drift back into the comforting blanket of unconsciousness, for it all to just end. So, she dozed in her dark prison, dreaming of her family, oblivious of time passing by.
The scuff of feet roused her from her dreaming and by the light of the small flickering torch which he leaned against the wall, she stared into the red eyes of Azgad.
"Hello, my dear." His sharp-toothed smile sent a chill of fear down her spine, screaming down every nerve, converging in a knot in the depths of her stomach. A strange light his eyes which sent warning signals flashing through the young elleth mind. Celebrían stayed mute, not trusting herself to reply. Instead, she waited for him to reveal another instrument of pain.
"Don't be frightened my lovely. I'm not going to hurt you." Something about his smile made Celebrían remember when she was an elfling. She once saw a cat toying with a mouse. Instead of killing his prey the cat tormented it, throwing it in the air and letting it go only to catch it again. This game went on for a while until finally, the mouse gave up and just lay on the ground, unmoving. The cat seemed to have lost interest and began to leave. But it was a ruse. As the mouse saw its chance to run, the cat turned and pounced, breaking its spine with a single swipe. But the mouse did not die, not then. The cat watched as it continued to struggle, dragging itself by its front legs. Only when the mouse collapsed, exhausted, did the cat put it out of its misery. She still remembered the snowdrops she planted on its grave, the small white flowers growing every spring, heralding the end of winter.
As Azgad reached out a sharp claw, Celebrían was acutely aware she was now the mouse. She reflexively shrank away, whimpering as pain erupted from every whiplash.
Azgad's face crumpled with regret. "I'm sorry, my beautiful little flower." His sharp claw snagged on a blood-matted dreadlock and moved it away from Celebrían's face.
He reached a hand into the darkness and Celebrían tracked it with her eyes, her mind swirling with all the horrendous possibilities for what it could be, each more outlandish than the last. A hysterical giggle burst through her lips as the hand returned clutching a wet rag.
"That's more like it, my sweet. Now we need a beautiful smile to match." Azgad raised the cloth to Celebrían's cheek. "I didn't want to hurt you." His voice was raucous. It wasn't a voice made for speaking softly.
The chill from the water made her shiver as he dabbed at the blood crusted on her cheek, but the massive orc did not notice. "You made me angry you see." He dropped the rag back into the unseen bucket and sat back on his haunches, studying her for a moment.
Celebrían hated herself for being grateful to this beast for removing the blood. Feeling just the slightest bit cleaner brought her unparalleled relief and the consequent self-disgust. He made a small tutting sound and leaned forward over her, his body millimeters from hers.
She tensed in fear, waiting for the hot breath on her neck, for the hands to start ripping her already torn garments. She had no illusions about the nature of Orcs. Her breathing was loud in the darkness, shuddering.
Time crawled by, and she wanted to scream. Wanted to shout for him to just get it over with. The waiting only made it worse, if it were quick, then maybe, maybe she would be able to forget, to pretend it never happened. But her throat was too dry to emit anything more than a rasp or a whimper, and she could only wait in torment. And as she waited she became acutely aware of how small she seemed compared to him. His bulk was entirely made up of huge, rope-like muscles, a body innately suited to a life of battle. She was so soft, so weak, what chance could she ever stand against such a creature?
A quiet snicker made her twitch in fear, and Azgad propped back to squat on his haunches as Celebrían's arms fell, muscles screaming in relief as they finally relaxed. She almost broke then, almost broke with the relief he had moved, his muscled body no longer near her, no longer an imminent threat.
It took a while for her to realize what happened. When it did, it hit like a hurricane blowing through a forest. He set her free. She could run! There was nothing to stop her! Hope sparked within her and strength flooded into her muscles.
Then Azgad gave her a small, sad smile as if he read her mind. "Please don't run."
The hope died as quickly as it started like a candle snuffed out in the wind. Despair must have shown on her face, as his expression filled with regret.
"I am sorry, my blossom." He reached out and stroked her blood-matted hair, sending a shudder of revulsion through her body. "You must long to see the stars, to feel the fresh air on your skin once again." An even stranger light filled his eyes at the mention of the stars and something stirred within Celebrían's heart for this twisted creature. Then it disappeared as he looked deep into her eyes.
"But if you run, my guards will kill you; my Wargs will hunt you down. They shall rip your corpse to shreds, and no one will know where you died, or even how you perished. You shall fade from the memories of your kin until only your family remembers you ever existed. And the knowledge of their failure will torment them until they succumb to madness."
Cold tears flowed in rivulets down Celebrían's cheeks, the hopelessness of her captivity crashing down around her. Her physical chains may have been removed, but she would never escape from this prison. The lure of freedom was contagious, the open cave mouth beckoned, the stars sang their distant song, and she wished she was still chained. Still chained without hope. Without the hope which now ripped her heart to shreds, as if it was the victim of a thousand sword strokes.
"Turn around," Azgad spoke the order softly, but firm and Celebrían found herself instinctively obeying. She had no energy for resistance, no defiance left. She gasped in shock as freezing water hit her skull, trickling through the roots of her matted hair. Azgad raked his claws through her locks, pulling and untangling, and Celebrían's inner resolve withered further.
The Orc defiled her very being in an action so painfully familiar, so personal. It was a twisted parody of the ritual Elrond performed every night and every morning, his soft hands drifting through her silken hair. She could almost imagine him there behind her, a smile on his face, a face which she wanted nothing more than to see again, to kiss and to feel his strong arms wrapped around her making her feel as though nothing could ever harm her. It was something so simple, yet infinitely precious, and it was theirs. But the Orc's claws shattered the illusion as they raked and snagged, breaking strands of hair off as he ruthlessly obliterated any blood located in her silver tresses. The cherished ritual blackened and rotted, forever tainted.
She shook with cold and devastation as he finished, dragging sharp claws rhythmically through her hair. "It is so beautiful," he murmured, "like spun silver."
Celebrían's breath shuddered through her chest as she futilely wished he would stop. That he would just leave and this would all drain from her mind and memory, washed away like blood down a river.
At that moment, as one of her most treasured moments was repeatedly destroyed, she wished he had just raped her. For this, this was a thousand times worse. Every time a claw was dragged through her hair she was intrinsically and irrevocably violated. Every light touch was a needle slowly pushed into her soul to leave her in eternal torment.
He continued his ministrations as he murmured. "Now I've done a favor for you; it is only fair you do a favor for me. What is your name and where do you live?"
Celebrían was too wrapped up in her despair to hear him, let alone answer. A convulsive breath only broke her silence.
Azgad sighed a heavy, regretful sound. "Turn." His order was firm and penetrated her sorrow, so she turned, unfeeling, all hope of escape crushed beneath the feet of her captor, as significant as the dirt on the floor.
Her reverie of despair was yanked away from her as a cold wall of liquid crashed down over her head. She took huge breaths in shock, her chest constricting as uncontrollable shivers wracked her body.
Azgad dropped the bucket with a clang as streams of water trickled out of the cave, reddened by the blood washing from her wounds.
She didn't resist as he stood, lifting her arms above her head, barely feeling the pain as her muscles groaned at being forced back into that unnatural position. She only felt the cold creeping into every part of her body, mind, and soul. But it did nothing to numb her pain.
The key clicked, locking her into her prison and Celebrían felt the song of the stars lose its voice and the comforting knowledge she was once again completely trapped settled over her. She was glad. The call of freedom only made it hurt more. It promised a return to how things used to be, a promise which could never be fulfilled. It was easier to give up when she believed things could never be the same.
Azgad caressed her delicate hand with his calloused paw before once again squatting down. His hungry eyes caught her own and Celebrían froze, unable to look away as he caught her jaw in one hand. "I was wrong. Your hair is liquid starlight. And your lips..." A sinister smile crossed his face. He brushed a thumb over them, his sharp claw scoring a line which began to weep red tears. "Are like blood in a field of snow."
His crooked, sharp teeth showed as his hand left her jaw and trailed down her neck, entirely engulfing it, his calluses scraping her skin. "So pale, so soft…" His gravelly voice was almost singsong as he tipped her chin back with a thumb and lifted her shimmering hair away from her neck.
And then cold metal took the place of calloused palms, and Celebrían's throat constricted, her skin trying to shrink away from the band. She was suddenly aware of two pinpricks of cold beneath her chin and two digging into her collar bone. She tried to drop her head to see what it was and the cold turned to pain, and two drops of hot blood burned their way down her throat.
"Don't do that my lovely. I don't want you to die." Azgad's whisper was loud in her ear, and she was all too aware of the conscious world as he dipped his claw in the blood trickling down her throat and painted a red line down over her collarbone.
He licked his lips as he trailed a thin red line over her breasts, grinning as Celebrían shivered at the touch, no longer caring what he did to her body. She had already been violated, nothing else he did could matter.
His claw dropped lower and lower until it scraped the inside of her thigh and some small part of her began to scream in horror. But the greater part shut down, and she only trembled. The big Orc looked into her eyes with a sharp-toothed smile. "I could if I wanted. You are powerless; there is nothing you could do to stop me." He cocked his head. "But I won't. I need you, as you need me. But I am running out of time to play games. You will have one last chance, and if you do not help me, I will leave you to the mercy of my underlings, and you will beg to them for death."
The massive Orc rose silently, a small smile playing on his lips. "Just think about it." He collected his bucket and began to leave, pausing as his bulk was silhouetted against the cave mouth just as the dawn began to break. "Our ancestors were not so different. Perhaps, if fate had fallen differently, things would not be as they are now. And for that…I will give you freedom. If you tell me what I need to know I will give you freedom."
Celebrían lay alone in the darkness once more, her heart singing for freedom, while the rest of her mourned its loss in devastation, incapable of hope. She consciously held her head up so it wouldn't drop down, constantly wishing for sleep. Wishing for the darkness so for a small time she could just forget, forget what had been done. So why didn't she?
Fear burned through her core as she realized she no longer cared, no longer cared that sleep meant death, which if her head dropped, spikes would spear her throat. Her lack of a desire to live frightened her. But what is there to live for? I will not leave here, not alive, she thought despairingly.Her fear drained away as the solution revealed itself to her. Death. Death was her only escape.
More tears trickled their cold path down Celebrían's cheeks as she lay, at war with herself. She longed just to allow her eyes to close, her head to droop and for death to come, but she could not do it. She could not make herself die.
Hopelessness filled her heart, dropping her into eternal torment and she withdrew from the world, withdrew into the small part of her mind that was still happy. The place where she could speak to her sons, her daughter, and lie in the arms of her husband. The place where nothing could find her. And as she abandoned her cold, wrecked body she knew in her heart there was no going back.