Hello fellow readers and LOTR lovers. I just wanted to let you all know I don't have a beta or anyone who really can read my stories and give me help with them so please be kind with any suggestions or comments. I'm not apposed to receiving tips on errors you may see in my grammar or anything else that can be improved. Just please no hate I'm already hard enough on myself when it comes to my writing haha. If you do enjoy it let me know what you think I can't wait for everything I have in store for this story. Onto the chapter! It's an angsty one!
The only sign that morning has come is the warm rays of light shining down upon his skin. He relishes in the small comfort while it lasts knowing his revere of peace will be broken only too soon. His body burns in a tirade of fire from the various lashes and burns. He dreads to think of what they will do next but keeps his panic shoved down where it can not surface to suffocate his thoughts.
Lost in the darkness he has only his ears to rely on as he listens to the foul creatures residing in the camp around him. None have neared the tree he's tied to yet, leaving him waiting with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company. He finds himself thinking about the various delicious foods stored in Imladris. The foul taste of whatever they had shoved down his throat still sits on his tongue and he wishes for some of the sweet red wine that he loves so much to wash it away. He would prefer the failed attempts from Estel's young cooking any day, it had always been near inedible until he learned not to overseason everything.
Approaching steps have him straightening up against the tree, squaring his posture best he can. The orc captain laughs, kicking his bound feet roughly. "You ready for more fun filth," it spits forcing Glorfindel to bite his tongue angrily as insults swirl through his brain. How he yearns to kill the putrid thing.
He's released from the tree only to be forced to his feet and shoved face-first into the rough bark. It digs into his wounds causing unseen tears to sting at his eyes for a few seconds. His arms are stretched around the trunk and tied securely in what feels like a mock hug around the tree. The clawed hands retreat as the large footsteps of the captain draw near. "What'll be this time elf? Should we start off with the whip again or try something new," it threatens, trying to elicit a reaction from the golden-haired warrior.
"I have felt the fiery whips of the Balrog upon my skin. You bring me no fear hu u-gaun! (cowardly dog)," he spits sharply letting the insult slip through his lips with unconcealed venom.
"Have it your way," the orc growls in anger the sound of a whip cracking through the air following its words. The hard leather strikes on his exposed back instantly biting into the fair skin, the second opens a large gash that is only worsened as more continue to tear into his flesh. He grits his teeth to keep himself silent as each strike forces shudders to run through his body. He losses track of how many times the whip has licked gapping lacerations into his back, slowly becoming numb to the burning pain. When the orc finally stops a sheen of sweat coats him while blood pours freely down his back. His muscles tremble as he gasps in breaths that only increase his torment. He briefly questions how they plan to keep him alive if they continue mutilating him in such a way but doesn't have time to ponder it long when something is poured over him. The liquid rushes over his wounds causing them to burn so horribly he can't stop the small cry of pain that escapes him.
The captain barks out a laugh causing Glorfindel to nearly bite off his tongue as he clenches his jaw shut to prevent another sound from slipping out. A clawed hand grips his hair pulling his head back roughly. "You are going to break and tell me everything I want to know elf," the orc growls rancid breath fanning over the elf causing his nose to wrinkle in disgust. He forces his head forward before rearing it back right into the face of the captain. A smirk crosses his face as the orc stumbles back spluttering out words in the black tongue angrily. He knows he will likely come to regret that, but for the moment the pleasure coursing through him makes it matter little. He's just glad he was able to inflict some kind of pain on the vile creature.
The clawed hands return this time settling around his throat in a tight hold causing him to gasp for air that can't be found. "I should just kill you right now," it spits out slow, savoring each word before letting go allowing him to heave in deep breaths. "But that wouldn't be any fun and we can't have that," it laughs moving in a slow circle around the tree before coming to a stop where his bound hands nearly meet on the other side. The rope is unexpectedly cut causing him to fall backward onto the dirt as his legs are still tied securely together.
Footsteps rush forward hands grabbing onto his arms and forcing him onto his bound feet as he thrashes in their hold. His body screams in agony at the movements and he realizes this is one of those moments where it's better to stand down than fight like a bullheaded mad man. Allowing himself to relax he listens carefully as the captain casually strolls towards him, obviously finding pleasure in making one wait anxiously for what will happen next.
The tip of a blade is suddenly pressed to his throat but he does not let it frighten him, instead he simply tips his head up slightly as if daring the orc to end his life now. "Maybe I should just turn you over to my boys it's been some time since they've had elf meat."
He shows no outward sign of a reaction to the words but his stomach churns in disgust so horrid that he surely would have thrown up in any other situation. The thought of getting torn apart by the foul creatures is enough to bring a cold sweat to the back of his neck. To the Valar, he'd rather fight another Balrog than be eaten alive by these wretched vermin. But he will accept whatever fate is given him no matter how gruesome.
He's slightly relieved when the blade retreats and the orc laughs loudly, "Perhaps I shall give you a deadline," it speaks slowly, once more circling the elf. "If you are not broken and I do not know where Imladris is within four days then this will be the first taste of what you're in for elf meat," the captain threatens behind him before searing pain shoots through Glorfindel's right shoulder. The agony is so strong it nearly causes him to slip into unconsciousness as the teeth rip away from his skin. Short, strained breaths escape him as he tries to control the anguish rippling through his body. You have felt worse. You can handle this, he reminds himself clenching his jaw as he forces himself to take deep breaths through his nose. Although a fleeting thought flitters across his brain, how does this orc plan to keep him alive for four days when he's already lost so much blood. Unless the warm liquid flowing from more wounds than he can count is some trick of the mind, he's pretty sure he can't handle losing much more before his body gives out. It is a grim thought that brings only further dread along with it. His only chance of survival is holding on in hopes Elrond or at least his army will show up in time to save him. If not he will be faced with a death much worse than the one he had suffered in his previous life, but no less will it be without worth for Elrohir and Elladan shall continue to live on because of him.
He's pulled from his thoughts by the orc captain pushing him harshly to the ground his arms suddenly released allowing him to crash into the dirt. A heavy boot steps down on his back, the sole digging into his wounds as he forces shallow breaths past the pressure. "I heard stories about you Rivendell elves," it spits pushing down harder as it speaks causing the strain on his ribs to grow near unbearable, "You all think you are safe if in your hidden hovel. Whether you are alive to see it or not your home will fall elf and there is nothing you can do to stop it."
The orcs words send a blinding rage coursing through him as he imagines Imladris falling just as Gondolin had. The once peaceful sanctuary torn apart and destroyed by the darkness to never be made whole again. He can see it so clearly in the black abyss surrounding him for a moment it almost felt real. The thought lasted only a few seconds but the vivid images were enough to send a shiver down his spine. "We will slaughter everyone you love," it sneers pushing down so hard he's surprised none of his ribs have snapped. He forces away the images the orc is forcing into his mind. Images flash through his mind; Elrond dead, Erestor bleeding out, Lindir fatally wounded, the twins gasping in the last breaths of life. These are things he has seen happen before, things he can not even bear to think about happening again. "Take this filth to the stream and wash him off. Make sure you bring him back alive," the orc orders removing its foot as others approach grabbing his arms roughly once more. He can hear the heavy footsteps of the Captain stride off as he's dragged in the opposite direction.
His struggles do little but fatigue his strained muscles furthers as the sounds of the camp slowly diminish. The soft bubble of a stream soon meets his ears and for a brief second, he looks forward to the blood being washed from his burning wounds. Then he's suddenly falling backward, his bound legs roughly kicked out from under him. He expects his back to collide with the hard ground but is instead meet with the chilly embrace of the water. It shallows him quickly, washing over his face as hands pin him to the muddy bottom. He squirms and trashes in their hold trying to escape as panic begins to grip his heart. Then he's suddenly pulled from the stream and tossed aside allowing him to pant tiredly on the bank.
The water brought no relief and he finds his wounds plaguing him only the more as he feels drained of all energy. The ground spins sickeningly beneath as he sways in and out of consciousness. He finds no reason to hold onto the pain, the pull of exhaustion much too strong. The golden-haired elf is lost to the world long before the orcs pick him up and haul his lack body back to camp.