A/N: Okay, thanks a lot for the reviews to whoever sent them. But there's
a few warning for this part because it's not very nice. So here it goes…
WARNINGS: this part deals with some Elladan torture and rape, though it will be implied, since I don't feel the need to get graphic. But it's important to know that this happens to him, for later in the story. I'm definitely keeping the R rating, though.
With that said, enjoy!
Part 2:
Elladan awoke to cold and darkness. That in itself wasn't unusual. He was used to camping under the thick canopies of the forest and on the icy, stony ground of the mountains. But this place was different. The darkness was total, unnatural except for deep in the ground. He swallowed thickly as claustrophobia started to set in. He tried to lift his head, but it felt heavy. At the movement, his entire body exploded in pain and he grit his teeth and breathed deeply to keep himself from passing out. His right leg hurt the most, though his head felt like it had been used as an anvil by an especially vigorous dwarf lord.
Elladan lay still for a moment to discern his surroundings more thoroughly. His mail and weapons were gone. Indeed, all of his clothing except for his breeches was missing. That would explain the cold, he thought grimly to himself. His arms were chained above his head to the stone he was lying on, as were his legs. He could not free himself, though struggling produced a satisfying clanking noise. At least he could still hear.
He couldn't move. He couldn't see. He didn't think calling out was a very bright idea. He remembered riding through the strange darkness with Elrohir when his horse screamed and fell over. Oh, poor Ruin, his fiery red mare. He supposed she was residing in some orc's belly now. She had broken his leg, but that was no fault of hers. The orcs broke his bow when he reached for it, and he had been forced to his sword when unable to maneuver very well. He had tried to fight, but he couldn't get his leg under him, and the orcs had outnumbered him. Elrohir got away, as far as he knew. He could only hope that his brother's superior riding skills had borne him to Imladris.
Elladan concentrated on his restraints. They were cruelly made, so even small movements caused the iron to bite into his skin. He could not find where the chain fastened to the rock, or any weak link he could possibly break to free himself. He stilled his movements as whispers of Black Speech reached his ears, moments before the stench of orcs filled the cavern. Elladan could count five by their footfalls, and his guess was affirmed as the flicker of the torch they carried silhouetted them against the stony walls.
"Awake, little elfling?" one croaked in the Common Speech. "Are you going to open those little star-loving eyes?"
"I've never seen an elf sleep with its eyes closed," another grumbled.
"It's not all elf. It's the whelp of that half-breed cur Elrond."
"Free me now and I will kill you swiftly," Elladan's melodic voice rose above the bickering. His speech was slurred, but steady. "Any who speak of my father in such away does not deserve a quick death, but I will be merciful."
"Oh mercy me!" the orc taunted. "You're in no position to make demands, elfling. Haul him up!"
Elladan's vision wavered as he was hauled to his feet. The chains on his arms were hoisted to the ceiling where he hung, thankfully able to keep the weight off his leg, though blood soon ran down his wrists from the shackles. He saw the orc fingering a whip, and he steeled himself for what he knew would come. The orc disappeared from his vision, though his position was announced as the crack of the whip caught him across the shoulders. Elladan bit his lip to keep himself from crying out, but that only served to earn him a blow across the cheek, splitting the skin.
"Don't hold back on my account!" the orc sneered. "We'll hear you scream before the end."
The lashes kept coming, harder as the scent of elvish blood further enflamed the orcs. Elladan concentrated on dragging air into his lungs, but an especially vicious kick to his injured leg ripped a scream from his throat. The orc drew a knife, the blade shining black in the cold torchlight. He used it to draw a line down Elladan's ribcage. The wound burned cold as ice from the top of Caradhras himself. A matching line was etched down his other side, wrenching another cry from his throat. The whipping continued as he hung limply in his bonds.
"Stop you monstrous idiot! You'll kill him if you keep that up!" The whip ceased, though Elladan's sight began to grow dim. The chains were loosed and he collapsed to the floor that had grown slick with bright red blood. He groaned as his arms were forced behind his back at an unnatural angle, crying hoarsely as his wrist gave under the pressure with a muted snap.
He should run, or at least try, while he was not tied to an immobile object, he thought desperately. But the thought fled as he felt a kick to his side and the weight of an orc settling across his back.
"You have fun hunting orcs, eh elf?" the voice was dangerously close to his ear. "Well, now we have fun with you."
WARNINGS: this part deals with some Elladan torture and rape, though it will be implied, since I don't feel the need to get graphic. But it's important to know that this happens to him, for later in the story. I'm definitely keeping the R rating, though.
With that said, enjoy!
Part 2:
Elladan awoke to cold and darkness. That in itself wasn't unusual. He was used to camping under the thick canopies of the forest and on the icy, stony ground of the mountains. But this place was different. The darkness was total, unnatural except for deep in the ground. He swallowed thickly as claustrophobia started to set in. He tried to lift his head, but it felt heavy. At the movement, his entire body exploded in pain and he grit his teeth and breathed deeply to keep himself from passing out. His right leg hurt the most, though his head felt like it had been used as an anvil by an especially vigorous dwarf lord.
Elladan lay still for a moment to discern his surroundings more thoroughly. His mail and weapons were gone. Indeed, all of his clothing except for his breeches was missing. That would explain the cold, he thought grimly to himself. His arms were chained above his head to the stone he was lying on, as were his legs. He could not free himself, though struggling produced a satisfying clanking noise. At least he could still hear.
He couldn't move. He couldn't see. He didn't think calling out was a very bright idea. He remembered riding through the strange darkness with Elrohir when his horse screamed and fell over. Oh, poor Ruin, his fiery red mare. He supposed she was residing in some orc's belly now. She had broken his leg, but that was no fault of hers. The orcs broke his bow when he reached for it, and he had been forced to his sword when unable to maneuver very well. He had tried to fight, but he couldn't get his leg under him, and the orcs had outnumbered him. Elrohir got away, as far as he knew. He could only hope that his brother's superior riding skills had borne him to Imladris.
Elladan concentrated on his restraints. They were cruelly made, so even small movements caused the iron to bite into his skin. He could not find where the chain fastened to the rock, or any weak link he could possibly break to free himself. He stilled his movements as whispers of Black Speech reached his ears, moments before the stench of orcs filled the cavern. Elladan could count five by their footfalls, and his guess was affirmed as the flicker of the torch they carried silhouetted them against the stony walls.
"Awake, little elfling?" one croaked in the Common Speech. "Are you going to open those little star-loving eyes?"
"I've never seen an elf sleep with its eyes closed," another grumbled.
"It's not all elf. It's the whelp of that half-breed cur Elrond."
"Free me now and I will kill you swiftly," Elladan's melodic voice rose above the bickering. His speech was slurred, but steady. "Any who speak of my father in such away does not deserve a quick death, but I will be merciful."
"Oh mercy me!" the orc taunted. "You're in no position to make demands, elfling. Haul him up!"
Elladan's vision wavered as he was hauled to his feet. The chains on his arms were hoisted to the ceiling where he hung, thankfully able to keep the weight off his leg, though blood soon ran down his wrists from the shackles. He saw the orc fingering a whip, and he steeled himself for what he knew would come. The orc disappeared from his vision, though his position was announced as the crack of the whip caught him across the shoulders. Elladan bit his lip to keep himself from crying out, but that only served to earn him a blow across the cheek, splitting the skin.
"Don't hold back on my account!" the orc sneered. "We'll hear you scream before the end."
The lashes kept coming, harder as the scent of elvish blood further enflamed the orcs. Elladan concentrated on dragging air into his lungs, but an especially vicious kick to his injured leg ripped a scream from his throat. The orc drew a knife, the blade shining black in the cold torchlight. He used it to draw a line down Elladan's ribcage. The wound burned cold as ice from the top of Caradhras himself. A matching line was etched down his other side, wrenching another cry from his throat. The whipping continued as he hung limply in his bonds.
"Stop you monstrous idiot! You'll kill him if you keep that up!" The whip ceased, though Elladan's sight began to grow dim. The chains were loosed and he collapsed to the floor that had grown slick with bright red blood. He groaned as his arms were forced behind his back at an unnatural angle, crying hoarsely as his wrist gave under the pressure with a muted snap.
He should run, or at least try, while he was not tied to an immobile object, he thought desperately. But the thought fled as he felt a kick to his side and the weight of an orc settling across his back.
"You have fun hunting orcs, eh elf?" the voice was dangerously close to his ear. "Well, now we have fun with you."
