This is the T-rated version of my mature story "A Night of fulfilled Desires". Some chapters have been cruelly reduced and there seems to be no point in them. This is just because I cut out the mature parts. But there will soon come more chapters that contain majorly plot.
Legolas could hear his own breath and his heart beat. He moved nearly silently over the floor, his Eldarin weight was not enough to make the branches break, but the leaves were whirled up by the movement of his feet. He realised how he could not hear Elrond anymore. The half-elf was heavier, and Legolas often noticed his human half – and was strangely attracted to it. It made the Lord feel more real and somehow even more dominant over him. It was contradictory, but Legolas liked it.
He was sure to have perceived a movement in the corner of his eye. He stopped and within the shortest moment, he had his arrow drawn into the direction of the shadow. There was nothing but black tranquillity. He sighed and put the arrow back into his quiver. When he turned around, he did not have time to react to the man in blue robes wielding a bulgy staff that knocked onto the floor and set off aquamarine sparks into his direction. Legolas flew back and heard himself shout in surprise. Before he hit the rocks, which lay scattered on the floor, he had lost consciousness.
When he came back to his senses, night had fallen over the ruins of the once glamorous castle. The wind had become strong again and he could hear stones and rocks clashing onto each other. How long had he been unconscious? Elrond, he thought and was up in no time. He must be in trouble, he feared. Even though he was a native to the Mirkwood forest and could see well in the dark, he had problems right now. He stumbled forwards, but then – most luckily for him – the moon came out from behind the rainy clouds. He could make out Elrond facing the man that had knocked him unconscious. While Legolas hasted towards them, lightning stroke the forest trees. Fortunately, it had begun to rain so that a forest fire was very much unlikely.
Elrond and the blue wizard were tumbling around, trying to reach their weapons. The grey-haired man had just grabbed his staff and pointed it menacingly at Elrond who froze and looked up.
"Drop the staff," Legolas commanded loudly. The wizard turned around and looked at the tip of the arrow that Legolas had drawn. During the distraction, Elrond reached for his sword, swung it muttering words of his Maia ancestor, and broke the wizard's staff into two halves.
"No!" Alatar shouted and sunk onto the knees in front of his broken staff.
"You will be brought back to the Elven-king's fortress as a traitor and servant of Morgoth," Lord Elrond said decisively and held the sword next to the wizard's neck. He did not react, so Legolas hieved the heavy man up. He did not resist but let them take him.
They returned to the horses and Legolas found some rope with which they bound the wizard's hands.
"I am sure that Mithrandir will want a word or two with him," Elrond muttered while they shoved the heavy man onto Legolas horse. They made sure he could grip the reins and would not fall of the transport animal. Then Elrond and Legolas mounted onto the Lord's horse. While Elrond held the reins, Legolas would guide his horse with an additional rope. Their journey back took long as they constantly had a watch over their prisoner, even at night. They could not go faster than pace, and during the night, they needed to keep a lantern lit to keep an eye on the wizard. But the light made them fear for orcs and spiders, so even when it was not their turn to watch, they could hardly sleep.
It had become the second nightfall after the night they defeated the blue wizard. Legolas could see with his keen eye the all too familiar valley which he loved to play in as a young elfling. A guard on a patrol ride saw them and quickly rode back to the elven-king to over bring him the message.
When Elrond and Legolas arrived within the walls of the fortified castle, King Thranduil was already expecting them in his long, silver-glittering robes. His crown had changed to autumn decoration for it was becoming colder again.
"Ionnín," he said when Legolas climbed down from the horse. "Who is it you have brought into my realm?"
"This is Alatar, one of the Istari who came to our realm millenia ago," Lord Elrond explained.
"Correct me if I am mistaken," Thranduil said in an arrogant tone, eyeballing the wizard in blue robes, "but did the blue wizards not set out for the East and were ever since gone?"
"He said he came back to prepare this world for the return of Morgoth," Legolas informed his father.
"Morgoth?" Thranduil's face shortly showed an expression of disbelief and terror. He had been young during the war against Morgoth's servant and could hardly imagine the devastation that Morgoth himself would bring upon this land.
"Morgoth is banished and there is no way he can return… can he?" Legolas turned to the wise half-elf.
"I would have said no. But as Alatar seemed so far with his plans, I would not leave it to speculation. We have to make sure that the Door of Night will never be opened," the Peredhil said.
"I shall interrogate this Istari," Thranduil said and winked two guards over to him. "Prepare the torture chamber in the dungeon," he ordered, and the two guards nodded and took the old wizard with them.
"Do you believe torture will bring you any further in this matter?" Lord Elrond asked. It was his job as a lord to second-guess a foolish endeavour of his king, but he had to formulate it in the most polite way possible.
"Every man, Orc, dwarf, - and even a wizard can be broken," Thranduil answered, his ice-blue eyes shining coldly.
Elrond sighed. "I will assist you," he decided.
Thranduil's face changed only one muscle to show his surprise at that offer. "Your gift to enter another one's mind?"
Elrond nodded. He knew that he would regret it. Thranduil was much more cruel than he was, and torturing this wizard together would make him cross a line. But how many lines had Thranduil already made him cross in the last few days? One personal limit more or less would not impede the crossing towards the West.
Chapter 10"A storm is coming," Erestor muttered darkly. Indeed, the clouds had gathered and were shadowing the valley in the past hours. Glorfindel ignored Erestor's warning though when he rushed past him to get the horses off the pasture. The sky was becoming a dark blue that gave the feeling of an early night even though it was only early afternoon. Glorfindel skilfully shooed the last five horses towards the shed and managed to lock them inside just before the first drops of rain reached the ground. He hurried back inside only to be nearly overrun by the twins who were looking for shelter in Elrond's house after having brought straw bales into safety. All three of them reached the last homely house just before the first lightening stroke afar.
"It is coming towards us," Erestor said as a forewarning and left to his family's rooms, reaching them before the rain had gained in strength and began pouring down on the roof, draining the acres, and filling up the river.
"Father always said that the best you can do during a thunderstorm is to stay inside, drink tea, and watch nature play from behind a window," Elladan said.
"I'm going to make some tea," Elrohir offered and went towards the kitchen. The chef and staff had left for the afternoon. Dinner was not to start before many hours and the elves wanted to be in their own houses when the rain began to fall.
Elladan and Glorfindel left towards Elrond's study. "I like thunderstorms," Glorfindel said with a slight shimmering in his eyes.
"Only when I am inside," Elladan added. "Father used to read us stories while we had our cup of tea. But one day, Elrohir and I got caught in a thunderstorm during a ride towards Gundabad. We hid among the rocks on a wide field and lay down as low as we could. The storm passed us by only a few miles, but the thunder was terrifyingly loud. When we could mount our horses again, we came past an old oak that had been struck by lightning. It had split the tree not into half, like you have heard of before, but into four equal parts, each spread out into another cardinal direction. It reminded us that nature is the strongest force in these lands and is never to be underestimated." The Lord's son had stopped in front of a window that allowed him to view the whole valley that had been plunged into darkness.
Glorfindel touched his shoulder, imagining what impact such an event must have had on the young elf. The scenery on the outside was occasionally illuminated by a thunderbolt.
"I know what fire can do," he muttered.
Elladan, knowing the terrible fate of Glorfindel's once glorious city, put his hand on Glorfindel's on his shoulder. They looked deeply and sadly into each other's eyes when the door opened and Elrohir came in with a pot of tea in one and three cups in the other hand. He balanced them towards the table next to a window and poured some liquid for all of them. His twin brother and Glorfindel joined him.
They were silently sipping their tea, the raindrops hitting the window in an irregular rhythm. Elrohir suddenly stood up and lit two more torches at the wall as the darkness had now completely enclosed the elven town. The moment he sat down again, the so far loudest thunder rumbled through the air.
Elladan twitched, something that did not go unnoticed by the blonde Lord. He reached out and touched his hand which was playing with the handle of his cup. "We are on the inside," he said. "There is nothing that can happen to us. Also, it is raining which greatly reduces the chances of a wildfire."
Elladan nodded, ashamed for his fear.
Elrohir simply continued sipping his tea. Another lightening stroke again, and this time the thunder followed rather quickly which made even Elrohir nervous.
"We should distract ourselves," he said and looked out of the window. He could not see anything but blackness and silver-looking raindrops hitting against the glass.
"A game of chess?" Elladan voiced a suggestion.
A lightning stroke very close and the thunder made the twins both jump up and rush to the window. Glorfindel slowly put the cup down and stepped behind them. He put a hand onto a shoulder of each of them and told them, "relax."
"The lightening has split a tree. Look!" Elladan said and pointed into the dark. Indeed, the aftermath of the lightening could be identified: A tree was lying on its side and smouldering. The fire was quickly put out by the rain, but still, having seen such a giant tree fall onto its side demonstrated the enormous force of nature.
The twins were calming down again and turned to Glorfindel. They indeed fancied a game of chess.
Chapter 11Elrond had never before been down in the dungeons. He had heard Bilbo's story of when Thorin and company had been imprisoned here. Even though Thorin had been kept lower than the other dwarves, Elrond was sure that none of them had descended as deep into the earth as they did now. The light of the sky did not shine down here and only the torch that Galion was carrying illuminated the way. The two elves arrived at a plateau and stepped through a dark, wooden door that looked very heavy.
They ended up in a room that was maybe half as big as Legolas' night chambers. The ceiling was low, and he saw a shadowy figure in the middle that had to be Thranduil. Only the king was so big that he nearly touched the ceiling above them. He had changed and wore now a skintight suit in dark shimmering crimson. His hair was tied back in extensively time-consuming braids that Elrond was sure were the doing of Galion. He stood out from the background as his blonde hair and elegant robes were in contrast to the dampness and foul smell of the place. There were three fireplaces which illuminated the scene in addition to Galion's torch which he put into a holder. There were benches and tables with all kinds of instruments and ropes. Elrond wondered whether the king went down to these dungeons for more than just torture sometimes.
In front of Thranduil hang Alatar from the ceiling, his wrists chained. Elrond had never seen someone who was not a dwarf to be that hairy and he found it repugnant. Obviously, so did Thranduil. His face told him that he did not want to spend more time with this enterprise than necessary.
Thranduil strode over to the tables and regarded the instruments most of which Lord Elrond could not identify after centuries of war and terror in Middle Earth. His foster father had been a cruel man who he had never been able to truly grow to love, and even him he could not imagine with such tools.
"Most of them are dwarf-made," Thranduil said as if very proud of the irony. "Dwarves were also the most often recipients of their do." He took up a long metal rod, a fire iron, with a decorated stamp at one end. It would serve as a stamp to brand the skin of the tortured person and show everyone who it was that he offended. He held the rod into the fire until the end glowed yellow red. He then held the rod high, glancing at the glowing end. A slight smile flickered on his face.
Elrond hardly saw the king move as suddenly he already heard the blue wizard scream. Thranduil had pressed the glowing stamp onto his skin, his pelvis. Smoke indicated the burning of the upper skin and the sound was rather unpleasant. Elrond walked closer and immediately smelled the familiar odour of burnt human flesh.
"You came here to prepare our lands for the return of Morgoth," Thranduil said. His voice was loud and rough, and in these surroundings, a chill went down Elrond's spine. "Yet you went east with another Istar wizard, going by the name of Pallando."
"You will all fall in the shadow of Morgoth and condemned until the end of days," Alatar said when he had gathered strength again. The branding on his skin was still aching. But he was a Maia and he could endure more than any mortal inhabitant of Middle Earth.
"Even if you die in here, I will find your re-embodiment and continue torturing him," Thranduil said. His voice was calm. He knew that he would not be able to break Alatar. He only wanted to prepare him. If his body suffered, his mind could easier be broken. Elrond knew that he would have to do the hard work.
"I think I should offer my help," Lord Elrond said and stepped forward. Be it an evil Istari or not. He did not like to see suffering, but often it was inevitable. He had always lived a life of respecting every living creature and to avoid physical conflict if possible. But during the war of the last alliance and now as evil was on the rise again, he knew that there was often no way around inflicting pain on other beings.
Thranduil seemed to be disappointed that Elrond interrupted him so early, but he nodded.
"You are familiar with ósanwe," Elrond stood up and looked into the wizard's eyes who were at the height of his own.
"The power to enter one's mind," the wizard muttered crunching his teeth.
"I do not wish to hurt you, but you are giving me no choice," Elrond said calmly and lay his fingertips on the wizard's cheeks. He closed his eyes and concentrated on his mental abilities.
Elrond felt the presence of Alatar's mind and connected his own mind to his. The Istari possessed high willpower. Elrond read his mind like flashes of pictures, all without order, all of different length. The discussion with the Valar about sending him and the other Maia to Middle Earth, the journey East, the subduing of the Eastern people, the foundation of secret magic societies. And then he found it. Conversations between the two wizards, about how their endeavour was pointless, how their mortal embodiment had become torture, and how Morgoth promised them to return to pure light, to become free of any mortality or any pain.
"Pallando the Blue has also returned to Middle Earth," Elrond stated. His hands trembled, and Alatar was still fighting him. Alatar bit is teeth which added a noise that sent shudders down Elrond's spine. He focused on his thoughts. "Alatar brought together the evil forces of Mirkwood to start attacking us and men. Pallando is tasked with creating fear in dwarfish and hobbit towns. They want to destroy our will to fight before they open the Door of Night."
"How does he plan to do it?" Thranduil asked.
Elrond concentrated. The wizard was a strong maia, and he was only part-maia. But he knew that he had immense power, or he would not have achieved what he had. He simply needed to unlock it, to be freed of the limitations of his half-elven body. He felt like an intruder, he felt like psychologically torturing him. It was against his nature, but he believed that in this particular case, the end justified the means. Or at least he would keep telling himself this for the rest of his life on this continent.
Suddenly, Thranduil saw how Elrond lifted his fingers, breaking the connection. "What?" he asked. "Why are you stopping?" He watched Elrond step back.
"He and Pallando planned to slaughter Eärendil," Lord Elrond stammered. "They were to meet west of Mirkwood once we were involved in enough skirmishes."
"Your father, Eärendil, is sailing the sky like the sea, guarding the Door of Night and the Gates of Morning. If they succeed in killing him, Morgoth might return and destroy the entrances for the sun and the moon," Galion summarised. He had been standing in the shadows and not moved at all.
"'When the world is old and the Powers have grown weary, Morgoth, the Black Foe of the World, seeing that the guard sleepeth, shall come back through the Door of the Night out of the Timeless Void –" Elrond began.
To the surprise of both the Lord and the King, Galion knew to complete the sentence, "– all shall be darkness, for the sun he will turn to black, and the moon will no longer shed his light.' The prophecy of Mandos. Will it turn true?" Galion, who always kept his cool, seemed to be nervous. His wet hands were slightly shaking.
"If so, we will get help and Morgoth shall be defeated," Lord Elrond said but convinced no one. He was staring into empty space.
"Who will help us?" Thranduil asked. He stood up and looked at the Lord with a stern expression.
Galion answered instead, "Tulkas, a Vala of war, Eönwë, a Maia, and Túrin of Hador. He will be the one to rid us all of Morgoth forever."
"Lord Elrond," King Thranduil said, obviously not amused about the fact that he, the elven-king, had to ask someone else for advice. "What do we do now?"