Disclaimer: Aye, I don't need to put this. We all know who Lord of the
Rings belongs to right? Good.
Author's Note: WARNING: This chapter DOES include violence and some lemon. Nobody reads this but who cares. This chapter should have a higher rating but I don't really wanna change it. Just a heads up for those who can't stand a bit of lemon.
We Are One
Hell on Earth
Haldir willed himself not to tremble as he was forced to behold the Dark Lord. Sauron. The name already was enough to make a brave warrior hesitate in fear. His body had died many centuries ago but his spirit has passed into the body of a Black Elf. Sauron, the one being who threatened Middle- Earth and everything on it. A shudder racked his body and he closed his eyes.
"Look at me," the Dark Lord hissed.
He was like the negative of Haldir. Sauron had a strong frame and shone with evil beauty. He skin was as dark as Haldir's was pale. His dark locks highlighted the Guardian's silver ones. And his eyes. His eyes were a fiery red and filled with hate and loathing for all good on earth. They bored into Haldir's beautiful stormy ones. Haldir reluctantly opened his eyes. He had no choice. The voice was powerful and willed him to obey it.
Sauron slowly stood up and made his way towards Haldir. Haldir thought quickly and when he was a foot away from him, he reached into his boot and withdrew an Elven dagger. In a single sweeping motion, he hurled it towards him. A blur of motion to his left and a Black Elf fell dead. It had ran in between the dagger and his master, ending its own life.
Haldir now looked with unconcealed horror at Sauron. The Dark Lord examined the servant in a casual way and kicked the body aside. "Very impressive, Guardian," he said in a dark but musical voice. "Most would've been begging for mercy. You have spirit but you also need to be taught obedience. A type of obedience you don't learn everyday. Be bad, you will be punished. Be good, and I'll give you a reward. Know that. It will serve you well." He reached down and struck the Galadrim across his handsome face. "You have been bad, Elf."
Haldir fell back in shock more than pain. An angry red flame appeared on his cheek where he had hit him. He got up and glanced at the door behind him nervously. Sauron saw this and laughed. "Don't even try, Elf. I have many uses for you here. I don't intend to let someone as fair as you go so easily."
Haldir tried to shoot him his famous glare but failed. "Are you turning me into a Black Elf?" His voice trembled as he said it.
A mad laughter filled the air and reverberated within the stone chamber. "No, fair one. I have other things planned for you." An evil smile decorated his dark features. "It would be a waste for someone like you to turn into that." He kicked the body again. "Like using silk to wipe your butt. No, my dear Elf, I have more... exciting things for you. I already have enough servants anyways."
As if to prove his point, he called once and half a dozen mindless servants came in and bowed. Sauron nodded at the carcass that was already starting to become stiff. At once, they all lifted the body and carted it unceremoniously away. Haldir watched as they made their way out of the great hall, trying to avoid eye contact with Sauron. The Dark Lord was examining Haldir as if he were a thing. His gaze was so intense and heavy, eyes hooded with hidden lust for the Elf.
Sauron approached the fallen warrior and carrassed his pale face. Haldir tried to shrink away from his touch. It burned his skin. Whenever he touched him, it felt as if there were hot wax smeared over him. His face was burning but his bones were icy cold. Sauron say this and grinned predatorily. "Enjoy it while you can, Elf," he whispered and with that, he grabbed a handful of Haldir's long silvery-gold tresses and pulled it back hard.
Haldir sniffled a cry of pain as his head was tilted back roughly. He felt a hot tongue sliding down his neck. It wandered off to the side and lapped at his delicately pointed ears. Haldir whimpered, whether in fear or desire. His pulse quickened as he felt hands sliding across is chest, the Lord's long fingernails scratching the fabric of his tunic. Haldir's world narrowed. Heat pooled down and he gasped when he felt the wandering hands of his captor slip between legs. The hands stroked him gently while the tongue continued to trail across his neck. His vision grew dim. Nothing mattered now. Only the pleasure that was slowly building up inside of him and the touch of the skilled hands as it quickly brought him to his peak.
A ragged moan escaped the Guardian's lips and brought him back to his senses. His eyes flew open in shock as realization of where he was hit him. He shoved Sauron away from him with all the strength he could muster. His body begged for release but he would not allow it.
Sauron quickly regained his balance and he made as if he were going to kill his prisoner but he thought better of it. He looked at the Elf up and down, licking his lips when his eyes saw the evident bulge in the Elf's tights. He schooled his features and grinned at the shocked Haldir. "I will enjoy breaking you, Elf," he rasped. "I will make you beg for release and for my touch. Then we shall see how strong you are."
Lord Sauron turned his back to Haldir and disappeared through a pair of double doors on the far side of the chamber, leaving him utterly alone. The Guardian nearly fell onto his knees in relief. His body was still aching for release but he would not permit it. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing that he was weak or needy. Flashes of Sauron pleasuring him played out before his eyes but he forced them away. 'Think Hithiel...'
His fingers went instinctively to the jewel around his neck. It still shone with its pure light even at the very heart of evil. All thoughts of Sauron vanished and he was comforted with the familiar memories of the Golden Woods. Haldir closed his eyes and let the memories take place of his horrible surroundings. Hithiel's face shone out among them, lively and determined. 'I just wish I could've seen her face one last time,' he thought brokenly.
At that thought, the images of his homeland faded and his reality hit him again. He fell back upon the freezing marble floor and the stench that burned his nostrils. The People of the Eldar normally weren't sensitive to cold but here at the very heart of all evil, the Eldar's magic failed. The cold seeped through the thin fabric of his tunic and a chill seized his bones.
He was too caught up in his own misery that he didn't notice two servants come in. They took him by the shoulder and arm, dragging him underground, beneath Barad-dur. 'No!' his mind screamed at him. He was a Wood-Elf not a Dwarf! He would not go underground. He struggled frantically but his wounds were not yet fully healed. A flare of pain seared across his body and he crumpled between the two Black Elves. If it weren't for their firm hold on his arms, he would've fallen onto the barren earth of Mordor.
His struggles lessened after his eyes became accustomed to the darkness and he looked around. It was very much laid out like his talan back at home except that it was deep underground and the furniture were dark as if they were seeping with evil. The chamber was huge and a window looked out but instead of seeing freedom and the sky, there were flames. It looked into the dungeons and chambers where Uruk-hais and orcs were made. Haldir closed his eyes as an orc was born from the earth. Its cries echoed for what seemed like eternity and there were sickening squishes as the others dressed it. He reopened them and looked past the orc-production room to where the grown orcs were. To his eyes, they were a flood of vile creatures that didn't deserve to walk on the earth. The army was gathered and silenced. They all held some sort of weapon whether it was a hoe or sword.
Haldir looked at them with unconcealed horror. Sauron was producing an army that would destroy Middle-Earth. Already, he was forming an alliance with the Easterlings, savage-like warriors who bloodied their hands for the joy of it. He tried to tear his eyes away from the grim scene but found that he couldn't. He kept on watching as if being hypnotized by the production of orcs.
When at last he moved away from the wide window, he sat down heavily on the bed and buried his face in his hands. His golden locks hung loosely around his face and he brushed them away impatiently. Having nothing to do, he ran his fingers through his long blonde hair, untangling the many snarls in it. With nimble fingers, he redid the traditional warrior's braid that had fallen out but his hands shook as he pinned them up with a silver clasp.
His eyes darted around nervously as if waiting for an ambush. He hated how helpless he felt at that moment, unarmed and powerless to the Dark Lord. At how his body revealed him to Sauron openly. He was a prisoner. Just another prisoner. He ran to the door and pulled at the handle with all his strength. It would not open. It was locked and wouldn't budge. He pounded at the wooden door in frustration but it only wore him out. Soon he just sat there exhausted both mentally and physically but he would not sleep. His fear would not allow him to dose off even for a minute.
His keen hearing picked up footsteps coming his way. He braced himself for an attack and as soon as the door opened, he clubbed whoever it was at the door on the head with both fists and darted out the door as swift as a mere shadow. His footsteps were light and his foot touched the cold barren floor for a split second before leaping off. Doors and torches whizzed passed him. He knew not where he was headed so he kept on running down the maze- like tunnels making fast decisions, never stopping his desperate race.
He heard a clatter behind him and soon, many heavy footsteps could be heard behind him. Angry roars resonated in the tunnels, making him want to cover his ears. He pumped his legs even harder and rounded a corner to find a long flight of stairs. Without thinking, he raced up the marble steps, never looking behind him. All of a sudden, a tall guard stepped out to block his path. It raised its sword but Haldir was too fast for it. In a blur of motion, he grabbed the sword and made it stab itself in the gut. He pulled the crude weapon from its dying hands and swung it around once more to decapitate it. Normally, he would've scowled and turned his nose up on such a poorly made weapon but this time he was desperate and was willing to use anything.
He kept on sprinting up the steps and finally reached the ground level. He saw the double doors up ahead and he raced towards them, eyes glowing with joy. He ran his shoulder into them, expecting them to open up to his flight for freedom but they didn't. He bounced back hard, stunned. The hard oak doors didn't move at all. He ran his shoulder into them again but it stayed shut. The lights in his eyes were quenched but he refused to give up. He ran into the doors again, not really expecting anything. He raised his stolen sword and started hacking at the wooden doors. Wood chips flew into the air and splinters covered his arms but he was relentless.
The sounds of his enemy approaching behind him finally awoke him from his nightmare and he turned around. Nearly a dozen strongs stood before him, heavily armed. Adrenaline flowed through his veins and all his energy flew to his wrists. He raised the sword effortlessly and sprang into battle, letting out all his frustration and anger. He began to sink into the rhythm of combat; blocking, parrying, and striking were all part of his instincts. He paid little attention to the scratches he received as he cut down his enemy, letting its blood stain the floor.
At last, the last of his foes fell dead. All the energy he felt at the beginning drained out of him. He felt tired and swayed unsteadily on his feet, paying little attention to where he was going. He leaned against the door and pounded on it weakly, desiring his freedom. He lifted his sword again and swung it against the doors. He pushed onto it one last time and collapsed on the floor, head bowed in defeat.
His head snapped up when he heard clapping. Sauron had approached him again with an arrogant smile. 'Like Ambaril... They have so much in common.'
He didn't have time to dwell on that for long because his eyes glowed with fearsome power and turned into slits when he saw his dead servants. "What- Have-You-DONE?!?" he demanded at the tired Elf.
This time Haldir was too tired to show any fear. "I killed them," he replied nonchalantly, examining the orc-sword he held.
He didn't have time to prepare himself as Sauron grabbed him by his hair again and pulled him off the floor. He shoved the Guardian's face close to his. "I see. So you will not sit still. Your spirit still lives so that means I will have to kill it."
Haldir tried not to gag at his foul breath. It smelled of the horrible Dwarven food odor. The Dark Lord still had a good hold on his hair and began dragging him down the stairs again. "No!! Not down there again! Please!" he cried.
The Elf struggled in Sauron's strong grasp but it was no use. He hated going underground into the dark lifeless realm. He was an Elf and belonged in the woods not in a stone enclosure. Underground was hell and a prison for him. He wasn't aware of where he was going since Sauron was dragging him by his hair and all could think about was the pain at his skull.
Sauron opened a door and dragged the struggling Elf inside. Haldir felt a rush of cold air as he entered the room and when he finally cleared all the hair from his face, he saw that is was the dungeon. The one that he saw from his room. The Lord roughly pressed Haldir's face to the wall and chained his hands above him. Haldir tried to twist his head around to see where Sauron had gone behind him but he couldn't.
His breath got stuck in his throat when he felt a cold blade press upon the pale column of his throat. The knife glided smoothly back and forth across his neck. Haldir's entire body tensed as a small river of blood appeared on his flawless skin. Sauron lifted the knife and slowly licked the blood off the dagger.
Haldir nearly sighed in relief. Nearly. But just as sudden, the knife that was pressed to his neck now slashed through his tunic. The Lord quickly tore the fabric off Haldir's body, exposing his well-muscled body and the straight back of the proud archer. Haldir tensed once again as a hand wandered across his back and was glad that Sauron could not see his face. It was red with shame and embarrassment. He felt a wet tongue slide along his spine and in between his shoulder blades, making wet circles on his back. He bit back a moan of desire but inside he was filled with guilt and disgust. 'I do NOT want him! This isn't right!'
The tongue left him and so did the hands. Haldir visibly relaxed his taunt muscles as the Lord left him. Suddenly, a whistle pierced the air and a whip landed on the archer's back it a loud crack. Haldir bit back a cry of pain as it flared across his injured back. Soon it was reduced to a dull ache but then another one landed on his back. He bit his lower lip until it bled. His fingernails dug into the wall in pain. He could feel his own sticky blood drip down along his back. The pain rippled across his back and set his very muscles on fire. Another blow fell across his back and he let out a cry of pain. "None of that now," the Dark Lord mocked. "One whiplash for everyone of my servants that you killed. Remember my words earlier?" Crack! "Be good and get a reward. Be bad and - " Whiplash! " - and you will be punished."
Haldir winced and tried not to cry out when another cruel blow struck his back. He gritted his teeth and was determined not to show any more weakness. Tears sprang into his eyes as his punishment continued but he refused to let them fall. After the twelfth blow fell on him, he heard the whip being discarded. His back was on fire and it hurt to even move his arm. 'At least it's over,' he thought through his pain-fogged mind.
But it wasn't over. It was just the beginning. His body went tense again when he felt the dagger slide along the inside of his thighs. He willed his body to keep still as to not anger Sauron more. The dagger slid higher up and with one quick motion, he slashed apart his leggings. Haldir's face flushed a deep shade of red as he was revealed to him and was disgusted when he heard a sigh from behind him. He tightened when he felt a hand caress him and tried to buck away. A ringing slap reprimanded him and he closed his eyes in pain and embarrassment.
The dagger was there again. The cold blade stoked his butt cheeks and slowly inched its way over to the entrance of his body. A shudder ripped through his body as the cold steel brushed against his puckered opening. Sauron saw this and grinned. He deliberately brushed it over a few times, gloating as the strong warrior cow beneath him.
Haldir closed his eyes, trying to block it out but he couldn't. It was like being trapped in a nightmare that you couldn't wake up from. He heard the metallic clang of steel against stone and knew that the weapon was being discarded. 'Now what?'
He didn't have to wonder for long because soon, he felt something blunt and hard press against him, pinning his chest to the cold wall. 'No! Not this! Oh, Valor, why me?!'
Intense pressure. Then pain. Lots of pain. He had no preparation. He felt himself rip as the Lord filled him with one thrust. A scream escaped his lips as the thing behind him groaned in pleasure. Haldir's eyes fluttered shut. 'This is not right! Why me?!'
He felt pain with every movement as Sauron continued to pump behind him. He was relived when it was over. He felt the Lord's sweat clinging on to him like virus and his heavy body leaning on his until it stopped trembling. Haldir's eyes were squeezed shut, praying that he would go away and the torture would be over. A heavy burden seemed to be lifted when Sauron stood up again. He gently brushed a hand over Haldir's silken hair and sighed contently.
"Be good, my little Elfling," he said in his dark silky voice. His pointed tongue flicked out at Haldir's ears once more before leaving him.
Haldir gasped in relief when he finally left but his ears burned in embarrassment when he realized he was still unclothed. The cold air of the dungeon brushed his skin teasingly making the Guardian shudder. The coldness nipped at the cuts on his back and he lowered his proud head. Only then did he realize that he still had the amulet. Sauron had missed it. The halo around it radiated warmth into his tired limbs and he fell asleep with images of his homeland... and Hithiel.
Hello! Long chappie, eh? I warned twice so if you're scarred for life, it's not my fault. Poor, poor Haldir... Be nice to him and review. Please?
Author's Note: WARNING: This chapter DOES include violence and some lemon. Nobody reads this but who cares. This chapter should have a higher rating but I don't really wanna change it. Just a heads up for those who can't stand a bit of lemon.
We Are One
Hell on Earth
Haldir willed himself not to tremble as he was forced to behold the Dark Lord. Sauron. The name already was enough to make a brave warrior hesitate in fear. His body had died many centuries ago but his spirit has passed into the body of a Black Elf. Sauron, the one being who threatened Middle- Earth and everything on it. A shudder racked his body and he closed his eyes.
"Look at me," the Dark Lord hissed.
He was like the negative of Haldir. Sauron had a strong frame and shone with evil beauty. He skin was as dark as Haldir's was pale. His dark locks highlighted the Guardian's silver ones. And his eyes. His eyes were a fiery red and filled with hate and loathing for all good on earth. They bored into Haldir's beautiful stormy ones. Haldir reluctantly opened his eyes. He had no choice. The voice was powerful and willed him to obey it.
Sauron slowly stood up and made his way towards Haldir. Haldir thought quickly and when he was a foot away from him, he reached into his boot and withdrew an Elven dagger. In a single sweeping motion, he hurled it towards him. A blur of motion to his left and a Black Elf fell dead. It had ran in between the dagger and his master, ending its own life.
Haldir now looked with unconcealed horror at Sauron. The Dark Lord examined the servant in a casual way and kicked the body aside. "Very impressive, Guardian," he said in a dark but musical voice. "Most would've been begging for mercy. You have spirit but you also need to be taught obedience. A type of obedience you don't learn everyday. Be bad, you will be punished. Be good, and I'll give you a reward. Know that. It will serve you well." He reached down and struck the Galadrim across his handsome face. "You have been bad, Elf."
Haldir fell back in shock more than pain. An angry red flame appeared on his cheek where he had hit him. He got up and glanced at the door behind him nervously. Sauron saw this and laughed. "Don't even try, Elf. I have many uses for you here. I don't intend to let someone as fair as you go so easily."
Haldir tried to shoot him his famous glare but failed. "Are you turning me into a Black Elf?" His voice trembled as he said it.
A mad laughter filled the air and reverberated within the stone chamber. "No, fair one. I have other things planned for you." An evil smile decorated his dark features. "It would be a waste for someone like you to turn into that." He kicked the body again. "Like using silk to wipe your butt. No, my dear Elf, I have more... exciting things for you. I already have enough servants anyways."
As if to prove his point, he called once and half a dozen mindless servants came in and bowed. Sauron nodded at the carcass that was already starting to become stiff. At once, they all lifted the body and carted it unceremoniously away. Haldir watched as they made their way out of the great hall, trying to avoid eye contact with Sauron. The Dark Lord was examining Haldir as if he were a thing. His gaze was so intense and heavy, eyes hooded with hidden lust for the Elf.
Sauron approached the fallen warrior and carrassed his pale face. Haldir tried to shrink away from his touch. It burned his skin. Whenever he touched him, it felt as if there were hot wax smeared over him. His face was burning but his bones were icy cold. Sauron say this and grinned predatorily. "Enjoy it while you can, Elf," he whispered and with that, he grabbed a handful of Haldir's long silvery-gold tresses and pulled it back hard.
Haldir sniffled a cry of pain as his head was tilted back roughly. He felt a hot tongue sliding down his neck. It wandered off to the side and lapped at his delicately pointed ears. Haldir whimpered, whether in fear or desire. His pulse quickened as he felt hands sliding across is chest, the Lord's long fingernails scratching the fabric of his tunic. Haldir's world narrowed. Heat pooled down and he gasped when he felt the wandering hands of his captor slip between legs. The hands stroked him gently while the tongue continued to trail across his neck. His vision grew dim. Nothing mattered now. Only the pleasure that was slowly building up inside of him and the touch of the skilled hands as it quickly brought him to his peak.
A ragged moan escaped the Guardian's lips and brought him back to his senses. His eyes flew open in shock as realization of where he was hit him. He shoved Sauron away from him with all the strength he could muster. His body begged for release but he would not allow it.
Sauron quickly regained his balance and he made as if he were going to kill his prisoner but he thought better of it. He looked at the Elf up and down, licking his lips when his eyes saw the evident bulge in the Elf's tights. He schooled his features and grinned at the shocked Haldir. "I will enjoy breaking you, Elf," he rasped. "I will make you beg for release and for my touch. Then we shall see how strong you are."
Lord Sauron turned his back to Haldir and disappeared through a pair of double doors on the far side of the chamber, leaving him utterly alone. The Guardian nearly fell onto his knees in relief. His body was still aching for release but he would not permit it. He wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing that he was weak or needy. Flashes of Sauron pleasuring him played out before his eyes but he forced them away. 'Think Hithiel...'
His fingers went instinctively to the jewel around his neck. It still shone with its pure light even at the very heart of evil. All thoughts of Sauron vanished and he was comforted with the familiar memories of the Golden Woods. Haldir closed his eyes and let the memories take place of his horrible surroundings. Hithiel's face shone out among them, lively and determined. 'I just wish I could've seen her face one last time,' he thought brokenly.
At that thought, the images of his homeland faded and his reality hit him again. He fell back upon the freezing marble floor and the stench that burned his nostrils. The People of the Eldar normally weren't sensitive to cold but here at the very heart of all evil, the Eldar's magic failed. The cold seeped through the thin fabric of his tunic and a chill seized his bones.
He was too caught up in his own misery that he didn't notice two servants come in. They took him by the shoulder and arm, dragging him underground, beneath Barad-dur. 'No!' his mind screamed at him. He was a Wood-Elf not a Dwarf! He would not go underground. He struggled frantically but his wounds were not yet fully healed. A flare of pain seared across his body and he crumpled between the two Black Elves. If it weren't for their firm hold on his arms, he would've fallen onto the barren earth of Mordor.
His struggles lessened after his eyes became accustomed to the darkness and he looked around. It was very much laid out like his talan back at home except that it was deep underground and the furniture were dark as if they were seeping with evil. The chamber was huge and a window looked out but instead of seeing freedom and the sky, there were flames. It looked into the dungeons and chambers where Uruk-hais and orcs were made. Haldir closed his eyes as an orc was born from the earth. Its cries echoed for what seemed like eternity and there were sickening squishes as the others dressed it. He reopened them and looked past the orc-production room to where the grown orcs were. To his eyes, they were a flood of vile creatures that didn't deserve to walk on the earth. The army was gathered and silenced. They all held some sort of weapon whether it was a hoe or sword.
Haldir looked at them with unconcealed horror. Sauron was producing an army that would destroy Middle-Earth. Already, he was forming an alliance with the Easterlings, savage-like warriors who bloodied their hands for the joy of it. He tried to tear his eyes away from the grim scene but found that he couldn't. He kept on watching as if being hypnotized by the production of orcs.
When at last he moved away from the wide window, he sat down heavily on the bed and buried his face in his hands. His golden locks hung loosely around his face and he brushed them away impatiently. Having nothing to do, he ran his fingers through his long blonde hair, untangling the many snarls in it. With nimble fingers, he redid the traditional warrior's braid that had fallen out but his hands shook as he pinned them up with a silver clasp.
His eyes darted around nervously as if waiting for an ambush. He hated how helpless he felt at that moment, unarmed and powerless to the Dark Lord. At how his body revealed him to Sauron openly. He was a prisoner. Just another prisoner. He ran to the door and pulled at the handle with all his strength. It would not open. It was locked and wouldn't budge. He pounded at the wooden door in frustration but it only wore him out. Soon he just sat there exhausted both mentally and physically but he would not sleep. His fear would not allow him to dose off even for a minute.
His keen hearing picked up footsteps coming his way. He braced himself for an attack and as soon as the door opened, he clubbed whoever it was at the door on the head with both fists and darted out the door as swift as a mere shadow. His footsteps were light and his foot touched the cold barren floor for a split second before leaping off. Doors and torches whizzed passed him. He knew not where he was headed so he kept on running down the maze- like tunnels making fast decisions, never stopping his desperate race.
He heard a clatter behind him and soon, many heavy footsteps could be heard behind him. Angry roars resonated in the tunnels, making him want to cover his ears. He pumped his legs even harder and rounded a corner to find a long flight of stairs. Without thinking, he raced up the marble steps, never looking behind him. All of a sudden, a tall guard stepped out to block his path. It raised its sword but Haldir was too fast for it. In a blur of motion, he grabbed the sword and made it stab itself in the gut. He pulled the crude weapon from its dying hands and swung it around once more to decapitate it. Normally, he would've scowled and turned his nose up on such a poorly made weapon but this time he was desperate and was willing to use anything.
He kept on sprinting up the steps and finally reached the ground level. He saw the double doors up ahead and he raced towards them, eyes glowing with joy. He ran his shoulder into them, expecting them to open up to his flight for freedom but they didn't. He bounced back hard, stunned. The hard oak doors didn't move at all. He ran his shoulder into them again but it stayed shut. The lights in his eyes were quenched but he refused to give up. He ran into the doors again, not really expecting anything. He raised his stolen sword and started hacking at the wooden doors. Wood chips flew into the air and splinters covered his arms but he was relentless.
The sounds of his enemy approaching behind him finally awoke him from his nightmare and he turned around. Nearly a dozen strongs stood before him, heavily armed. Adrenaline flowed through his veins and all his energy flew to his wrists. He raised the sword effortlessly and sprang into battle, letting out all his frustration and anger. He began to sink into the rhythm of combat; blocking, parrying, and striking were all part of his instincts. He paid little attention to the scratches he received as he cut down his enemy, letting its blood stain the floor.
At last, the last of his foes fell dead. All the energy he felt at the beginning drained out of him. He felt tired and swayed unsteadily on his feet, paying little attention to where he was going. He leaned against the door and pounded on it weakly, desiring his freedom. He lifted his sword again and swung it against the doors. He pushed onto it one last time and collapsed on the floor, head bowed in defeat.
His head snapped up when he heard clapping. Sauron had approached him again with an arrogant smile. 'Like Ambaril... They have so much in common.'
He didn't have time to dwell on that for long because his eyes glowed with fearsome power and turned into slits when he saw his dead servants. "What- Have-You-DONE?!?" he demanded at the tired Elf.
This time Haldir was too tired to show any fear. "I killed them," he replied nonchalantly, examining the orc-sword he held.
He didn't have time to prepare himself as Sauron grabbed him by his hair again and pulled him off the floor. He shoved the Guardian's face close to his. "I see. So you will not sit still. Your spirit still lives so that means I will have to kill it."
Haldir tried not to gag at his foul breath. It smelled of the horrible Dwarven food odor. The Dark Lord still had a good hold on his hair and began dragging him down the stairs again. "No!! Not down there again! Please!" he cried.
The Elf struggled in Sauron's strong grasp but it was no use. He hated going underground into the dark lifeless realm. He was an Elf and belonged in the woods not in a stone enclosure. Underground was hell and a prison for him. He wasn't aware of where he was going since Sauron was dragging him by his hair and all could think about was the pain at his skull.
Sauron opened a door and dragged the struggling Elf inside. Haldir felt a rush of cold air as he entered the room and when he finally cleared all the hair from his face, he saw that is was the dungeon. The one that he saw from his room. The Lord roughly pressed Haldir's face to the wall and chained his hands above him. Haldir tried to twist his head around to see where Sauron had gone behind him but he couldn't.
His breath got stuck in his throat when he felt a cold blade press upon the pale column of his throat. The knife glided smoothly back and forth across his neck. Haldir's entire body tensed as a small river of blood appeared on his flawless skin. Sauron lifted the knife and slowly licked the blood off the dagger.
Haldir nearly sighed in relief. Nearly. But just as sudden, the knife that was pressed to his neck now slashed through his tunic. The Lord quickly tore the fabric off Haldir's body, exposing his well-muscled body and the straight back of the proud archer. Haldir tensed once again as a hand wandered across his back and was glad that Sauron could not see his face. It was red with shame and embarrassment. He felt a wet tongue slide along his spine and in between his shoulder blades, making wet circles on his back. He bit back a moan of desire but inside he was filled with guilt and disgust. 'I do NOT want him! This isn't right!'
The tongue left him and so did the hands. Haldir visibly relaxed his taunt muscles as the Lord left him. Suddenly, a whistle pierced the air and a whip landed on the archer's back it a loud crack. Haldir bit back a cry of pain as it flared across his injured back. Soon it was reduced to a dull ache but then another one landed on his back. He bit his lower lip until it bled. His fingernails dug into the wall in pain. He could feel his own sticky blood drip down along his back. The pain rippled across his back and set his very muscles on fire. Another blow fell across his back and he let out a cry of pain. "None of that now," the Dark Lord mocked. "One whiplash for everyone of my servants that you killed. Remember my words earlier?" Crack! "Be good and get a reward. Be bad and - " Whiplash! " - and you will be punished."
Haldir winced and tried not to cry out when another cruel blow struck his back. He gritted his teeth and was determined not to show any more weakness. Tears sprang into his eyes as his punishment continued but he refused to let them fall. After the twelfth blow fell on him, he heard the whip being discarded. His back was on fire and it hurt to even move his arm. 'At least it's over,' he thought through his pain-fogged mind.
But it wasn't over. It was just the beginning. His body went tense again when he felt the dagger slide along the inside of his thighs. He willed his body to keep still as to not anger Sauron more. The dagger slid higher up and with one quick motion, he slashed apart his leggings. Haldir's face flushed a deep shade of red as he was revealed to him and was disgusted when he heard a sigh from behind him. He tightened when he felt a hand caress him and tried to buck away. A ringing slap reprimanded him and he closed his eyes in pain and embarrassment.
The dagger was there again. The cold blade stoked his butt cheeks and slowly inched its way over to the entrance of his body. A shudder ripped through his body as the cold steel brushed against his puckered opening. Sauron saw this and grinned. He deliberately brushed it over a few times, gloating as the strong warrior cow beneath him.
Haldir closed his eyes, trying to block it out but he couldn't. It was like being trapped in a nightmare that you couldn't wake up from. He heard the metallic clang of steel against stone and knew that the weapon was being discarded. 'Now what?'
He didn't have to wonder for long because soon, he felt something blunt and hard press against him, pinning his chest to the cold wall. 'No! Not this! Oh, Valor, why me?!'
Intense pressure. Then pain. Lots of pain. He had no preparation. He felt himself rip as the Lord filled him with one thrust. A scream escaped his lips as the thing behind him groaned in pleasure. Haldir's eyes fluttered shut. 'This is not right! Why me?!'
He felt pain with every movement as Sauron continued to pump behind him. He was relived when it was over. He felt the Lord's sweat clinging on to him like virus and his heavy body leaning on his until it stopped trembling. Haldir's eyes were squeezed shut, praying that he would go away and the torture would be over. A heavy burden seemed to be lifted when Sauron stood up again. He gently brushed a hand over Haldir's silken hair and sighed contently.
"Be good, my little Elfling," he said in his dark silky voice. His pointed tongue flicked out at Haldir's ears once more before leaving him.
Haldir gasped in relief when he finally left but his ears burned in embarrassment when he realized he was still unclothed. The cold air of the dungeon brushed his skin teasingly making the Guardian shudder. The coldness nipped at the cuts on his back and he lowered his proud head. Only then did he realize that he still had the amulet. Sauron had missed it. The halo around it radiated warmth into his tired limbs and he fell asleep with images of his homeland... and Hithiel.
Hello! Long chappie, eh? I warned twice so if you're scarred for life, it's not my fault. Poor, poor Haldir... Be nice to him and review. Please?