The Rohan Pride Trilogy

Part One: Alone

Book Two

By: WhiteLadyOfTroy

Summary:
When Gúthwyn, the youngest child of Théodwyn and Éomund, becomes a slave of Sauron, she makes a deadly bargain with the Dark Lord. If she fails at the task he sets before her, then the lives of those she loves will be compromised.

About the Trilogy:
I have decided to do what Tolkien did with his books. The Fellowship of the Ring had two books within the text, as did The Two Towers and The Return of the King. The only change I have made is the first part in my trilogy: Alone. This will be divided into three books, the first book explaining how Gúthwyn got to where The Fellowship of the Ring started.

About Chapter Fifty-One:
Okay, I'm assuming you all know the deal about names. Regarding the dialogue with Sauron in the last chapter, yes, it was probably stupid and cliché, but we never get a good sense of what his speech was like, so I kind of had to flail around a bit. Once again, please correct me on anything that seems amiss, out-of-character, or non-canon. Also, regarding archery and swordplay—I really don't know what the hell I'm talking about, so bear with me. I've had a few archery lessons, but nothing major. In addition, the upcoming chapters will feature disturbing images. If torture and rape scenes bother you, skip over them. I will not post warnings in the middle of the fic, so you'll have to determine for yourself which areas you would like to avoid. Important: Here the story begins to become a little less accurate, canon-wise. I have tried my best to keep it realistic, but sometimes it's just not possible.

Chapter Fifty-One

"Welcome." Haldor's voice grated on her nerves, sending shivers up and down her spine as she stepped into his tent.

Gúthwyn winced as he drew closer to her. This is the last time for months, she reminded herself, struggling not to panic. An hour from now, she would be free. She was leaving tomorrow, and after that he would be miles away from her.

The Elf stood merely a foot away from her. "We shall not be seeing each other for quite a long time," he murmured, reaching out and touching her face, waiting to see her reaction. Try as she might to restrain herself, she flinched, turning her head to the side.

He laughed softly before continuing. "I think, therefore, that tonight should be something you will remember years from now…"

A shudder escaped her. "Haldor, it is my last night with the children," she whispered. "Will you not let me stay with them?"

"No," Haldor replied. "Undress."

Swallowing hard, she did as he told her, still turning away from him as she removed her shirt. He came up behind her, slipping his hands around her waist and resting them on her stomach. A whimper passed from her lips as he started steering her towards his bed, ending when he pushed her upon it. His leggings fell to the floor, and as always she grimaced and looked away.

Haldor settled on top of her, smothering every inch of her body with his. Gúthwyn waited for him to offer the option of begging, but he shook his head. "Not even a 'please, Haldor' will get you out of this," he said.

Just one more hour, she told herself. One more hour, and this will all be over.

The Elf suddenly reached over her to the floor, where the lantern was kept. As he pulled it up, the flame leapt and danced within its confines, and for a wild moment she thought he was going to burn her. He lifted the cap and tilted it towards her; she tried to wriggle away, but he had her pinned firmly beneath him.

"I do not think we shall be needing this anymore," he said smoothly, and held it so that the opening was just an inch away from her lips. A cold, sinking feeling began infesting her stomach. "Blow it out."

She shook her head frantically, holding her breath in case she accidentally blew out the flame. The shadows were already long enough… she was terrified of what would come to pass if the tent was plunged into darkness.

"I said, blow it out," Haldor growled, and pressed down on her stomach.

Gúthwyn choked. The burst of air from her mouth hit the lantern, and then all was black.

"Now," Haldor began as she moaned in terror, "where were we?" She heard the lantern being placed back on the ground while he spoke.

Her entire body was shaking uncontrollably. The Elf ran a finger down her torso, and she nearly shrieked in fright. "No, no…" she said quietly, each word wavering before it faded into the air.

"You know," Haldor mused, ignoring her feeble struggles, "now that Borogor is dead, I am in need of another second-in-command."

Gúthwyn stopped moving, and looked to where she thought his eyes were. "Y-you are going to replace him?" she asked.

"He was not harsh enough on the men," Haldor replied. "It was his weakness—he was too soft. You were another one of them."

She froze, wondering if Haldor knew that Borogor had been planning on marrying her, but the tone of his voice did not seem any different than usual. "You can never replace him," she said, and for a terrifying moment tears welled up in her eyes. "Not if you searched for the rest of your life, not if you scoured Middle-earth for years on end. He was a better man than you or anyone could ever dream of being!"

Her voice choked on the last words, but he heard them clearly. "A better man would not have tortured you, even when threatened with his brother's life!" the Elf hissed. "A better man would have challenged me, or demanded that I stop toying with you. Yet he stood aside and let it all happen!"

"You have no idea," she retorted angrily. "You have no idea what he was like! He did everything that you ordered him to, but still managed to not become as twisted and foul as you are!"

Hands were placed on the insides of her legs, spreading them apart roughly and effortlessly. Before she had time to panic, he was inside of her, his hands clamping down on her shoulders as he thrust in and out. The punishment for speaking out against him was brutal: Gúthwyn was nearly screaming from the pain in a minute's time, writhing and thrashing underneath him.

"Next time, learn to keep your tongue!" he hissed at her, pushing in so forcefully that she cried out. Pleased by her distress, he made each movement harder and faster. Gúthwyn tried to tilt her head back and pretend that nothing was happening, but the pain was so consuming that at length she was shrieking with each thrust.

He seemed to become feverishly energized as she grew weaker, feeding off of her agony and growing more powerful with each second. His force was unbearable, and she half-expected to start bleeding.

"Haldor, please, stop!" she begged, trying to get out from beneath him. He slapped her.

"This will teach you a lesson," he snarled, sliding a hand down her breasts and onto her stomach.

"No, please, please!" she exclaimed hysterically as the pain increased. Everything was so dark…

"Beg," he whispered, and his hands were roaming over her body, feeling out the flesh with his finger tips—and prodding, always prodding, deaf to her whimpers and moans as he worked. The shadows were pressing around her, suffocating her, waiting for the moment when she fell and would be theirs. You are pathetic, they taunted her, making themselves heard over her panicked noises. Small wonder your uncle does not love you anymore. You are weak!

She did not realize that she was screaming until Haldor pulled out of her, leaving her gasping for breath and tears forming in her eyes. Something struck her in the face.

"You disgust me," he spat, his words ringing in her ears. "Not five minutes have passed!"

"Haldor, please, let me go," she begged him once more. "Please!"

"You disappoint me," he replied, stroking her face. She cringed. "Perhaps when you are gone, I shall have to turn to a new source of entertainment…"

"W-what do you m-mean?" Gúthwyn stammered in confusion.

"I notice that Haiweth is getting older," Haldor said maliciously.

She froze. Time seemed to hang in balance as the little girl's smiling face swam before her eyes. "No…" she breathed, horror twisting her stomach mercilessly. "No, no, Haldor, you do not mean that… Please, tell me you are not serious!"

"I am," he answered, and she gagged.

"She is only five! Please, no, I will do anything!"

"Anything?" he asked delicately. She could feel his breath upon her face.

"Anything," Gúthwyn responded shakily. The price would be high, she knew, but the fall would be hard if she did not pay it.

"Well, this opens up a realm of possibilities," he said, and she flinched at the excited tone of his voice. "When you return, we will work something out… preferably here."

She knew fully well that whatever negotiations were to take place, none of them would be in her favor. Yet she was powerless to disagree. "Yes, my lord," she murmured.

Haldor got off of her, and she sat up. "One more thing," he said.

"W-what?" she asked.

"I find that my bed feels overlarge and lonely most nights, without a woman struggling against me."

Gúthwyn tensed, wondering what he was getting at.

"If you were to take up residence here, I might be willing to… overlook Haiweth in favor of you."

"Y-you mean, live with you?" she gasped, scrambling off of the bed and backing away from him.

"It is only something to think about while you are gone," he replied evenly. "Of course, if Haiweth's purity does not matter to you, then…" He trailed off, leaving her to imagine the details.

"No, no, I-I will t-think about it," she promised, feeling for her clothes in the dark. Hot tears stung at her eyes, and she wiped them away, loathing and fearing Haldor more than she ever had in her life.

Hands were suddenly placed on her shoulders. Jumping, she straightened before the Elf, seeing a very faint outline of him.

"I will try to refrain myself from the child," he said, "but it may be difficult… After all, your lips are so cold, and hers are undoubtedly warmer…"

He was cruelly baiting her, and Gúthwyn fell for it—hook, line, and sinker. Trembling, she reached for him, placing one hand on the back of his neck and cupping the other around his face. Slowly she leaned in, repressing a shudder as their lips met. His tongue slipped in to meet hers, and for several minutes they languidly explored each other. She slid a hand down his back, as he had done so often to her, deepening the kiss at the thought of Haiweth being in her position.

At length he broke away from her. "We will continue this when you return," he whispered, and she could hear the smirk in his voice.

A shiver ran over her; she realized now that Haldor was too smart to let a kiss cloud his judgment. No matter where she turned, an evil fate still lay before her.


She entered her tent as morning crept over Mordor. Heavy breathing filled the small space, but a knot formed in her chest as she thought of those who were no longer adding to the rhythmic noise. Beregil, Borogor. Herself, soon to join the list.

"Hope you had fun," someone muttered, and Gúthwyn whirled around to see Dîrbenn leaning against the canvas wall, his arms folded and his eyes narrowed piercingly at her.

Her shoulders slumped. "Dîrbenn," she whispered, moving closer to him. "Dîrbenn, I am not doing this to taint Borogor's memory. Why will you not believe me?"

"Because you turned right around and slept with Haldor, that is why!" Dîrbenn hissed. "He told Burzum how you begged him, how you were kissing him! Yet you let Borogor hold you in his arms and comfort you!"

"I did not know what I was doing!" she replied, knowing even as she spoke that it was futile. "I would never have done it otherwise…"

Derisive laughter echoed through the tent. A few of the men stirred. "You did not know what you were doing?" Dîrbenn snorted. He looked both amused and disgusted. "That is the most pathetic excuse I have ever heard."

"I am speaking the truth," she said quietly, somehow feeling even more wretched than she had at any point in Haldor's tent. "What will it take for me to convince you?"

"Nothing you say or do will," he snapped. "You might as well have spat on Borogor's grave. He loved you, and this is how you repay him? For all that he has done for you? Do you even remember him healing your miserable back? Or taking care of you when your ribs were broken? Or staying by your side all night to bring your fever down?"

His accusations were pouring down on her, words dripped in hatred that laid scars on her even as he uttered them. "Dîrbenn… I loved him. I still do." Her voice was quiet, yet he heard every word.

"You whore! You know nothing of love!" he shouted at her. Several men sat up.

"What on Arda is going on?" Sîdhadan grumbled angrily, shaking dark-colored hair out of his face. His eyes fell on her. "You again?" he snarled.

Gúthwyn glanced around, and saw that all of the men were glaring at her. Not a single friendly face was among them.

"What's going on?" someone asked. Everyone turned around to see Haiweth sticking her thumb back in her mouth—a sleepy habit—clutching a blanket around her. Hammel was sitting up as well, watching the group.

"N-nothing, Haiweth," Gúthwyn replied, opening her arms and embracing the girl when she tottered over. The men's faces softened slightly, but they were still resolutely furious at her.

"Are you leaving today?" Haiweth inquired, seemingly unaware of their audience.

"Yes," Gúthwyn said, stroking the girl's hair. "Will you be a brave girl while I am gone?"

Haiweth sighed. "I don't want to be a brave girl," she pouted. "I want you!"

"I will return, I promise," Gúthwyn replied soothingly, eliciting disbelieving looks from the soldiers. She ignored them. "But in the meantime you will have to do what Hammel tells you, do you understand?"

Once again, Haiweth stirred restlessly. "I miss Borogor," she said sadly.

Gúthwyn felt her throat tighten at the mention of the man she loved. "So do I," she whispered, squeezing the child and blinking away tears that were appearing in her eyes. "So do I."

"It is time to go." Dîrbenn's harsh voice interrupted the moment. "The sun is already rising."

"Dîrbenn," Gúthwyn started, turning to him. His fists were clenched. "Dîrbenn, will you please watch the children?"

Haiweth peered over at him, her thumb still in her mouth.

"Fine," Dîrbenn growled. "But this is not for you."

She nodded, more relieved than he could have ever guessed. "Thank you so much."

At that moment, the tent flap opened. Haldor stepped inside, carrying a lumpy package, and Gúthwyn felt her heart clenching. "Are you ready?" he spat at her.

"I-in a minute," she stuttered, then hastily moved over to the corner where she had been sleeping for three years. In a few seconds, she had rolled up her pallet and stuffed it into her small pack along with Chalibeth's cloak. She placed the entire ensemble inside Borogor's larger one, unwilling to part with the precious possessions of her friend.

Haldor sneered. "How touching," he said. Gúthwyn winced, but stood back up and shouldered the pack. Immediately, Haiweth had flung herself into her arms.

"Don't go!" she nearly shrieked, tears starting to spill down her cheeks. "Stay here!"

"Haiweth," Gúthwyn murmured, rocking the girl back and forth gently. "Do not despair, young one. You will see me before long."

Haiweth's tears fell faster. "No!" she screamed into Gúthwyn's waist.

"Come, Haiweth," Hammel said suddenly, appearing behind his sister and prizing her away from Gúthwyn. The child tried to squirm away, but her struggles were futile.

"Hammel," Gúthwyn began, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Look after her, and have a care for yourself as well."

He nodded solemnly. "Good luck." At eight years old, he understood enough to know that she was going on a dangerous mission, though she had not told him what she had been bidden to do.

"Thank you," she whispered. "Farewell to you both."

"Hurry up!" Haldor snapped impatiently. Gúthwyn ruffled the hair on both of the children's heads one last time, then crossed the room to join the Elf. Dîrbenn's upper lip curled.

She glanced nervously up at the commander. "Your gear is outside," he said shortly. "Move."

Gúthwyn took one last look around the tent, her eyes resting on the now subdued Hammel and Haiweth. There were so many memories crammed inside her, fighting for prominence… The majority bad, yet some were surprisingly good. Falling asleep with the children. Returning after a good practice, and even being able to stomach the meat. Soft smiles exchanged with Borogor.

Her musings were interrupted as Haldor all but shoved her out of the tent and into the dull morning light. She folded her arms protectively around herself.

"Arms down," he ordered, and immediately she obeyed. They started walking towards the training grounds. All around them, men were hurrying by, stuffing meat into their mouths as they went, but still taking the time to throw a good long glare at Gúthwyn.

When they arrived, Haldor stopped her with a wave of his hand. "Wait here," he said, and she did, watching him as he strode towards the weapons pile. Today, she noticed a sheathed sword, dagger, bow, and arrow-filled quiver leaned up against the cart. Haldor picked these up, along with some light armor. He brought the items over, depositing them at her feet. "Put on the armor," he instructed her.

There was a pair of gauntlets, a small breastplate, and some leather greaves. Gúthwyn put them on swiftly, observing that the armories had certainly not wasted time producing a quality product.

"A month's supply of food, and a map," Haldor said, putting both in her arms. She stuck them inside Borogor's pack. "Do try and actually eat, for you are no use to anyone dead."

Gúthwyn glared at him, but did not dare say anything. He then presented her with the dagger, and then the bow.

"I would suggest getting some practice in along the way, as I will be most displeased if you return and cannot even come within a yard of the target," he spoke. "I may have to give you private lessons."

Gúthwyn shuddered at the thought of what private lessons would entail.

"Finally, your favorite." Haldor handed her the sword. A small gleam came to her eyes as she strapped the sheathed weapon on the left side of her belt. "And now, I will take you to the Black Gate."

"Haldor," she said suddenly, realizing that she did not know the date. "What is today?"

He glanced at her. "The thirteenth of June," he replied, "in the year 3018, Third Age—though I would hope you knew that."

It figured. Her birthday. "So be it," she whispered to herself. Today, after all, was the beginning of the adventure that would lead her to Hammel and Haiweth's freedom. Happy birthday, indeed.