Folks, I'm posting this short, third chapter quickly, without benefit of beta reader, to reassure Griffin. Things get nasty, but not that nasty! Honest!

Oh, but the story is still rated 'R' for violence. You'll see why in a minute.

Green and Gold: Chapter 3

Anomen was well out of earshot of the camp before the person following the elfling revealed himself. It happened when Anomen stopped to drink from a stream. As he knelt upon its bank, he sensed movement behind him. He leaped to his feet and tried to spin about, but before he could do so, he was knocked down by a heavy blow to the side of his head. Dazed, he looked up to see Wollust.

"Hah! You're mine now," gloated the Man. "And I won't have to pay so much as a copper coin! This day I am high in the favor of the Gods!"

Anomen could not imagine that the Valar would favor a thief and a slave-catcher. On the other hand, he thought ruefully, it didn't seem as if they were particularly favoring him!

In one thing only did matters seem to go Anomen's way. The Man was anxious to place his prize beyond the reach of the Cat. Fearing pursuit, he did not stop to take pleasure in his new slave. Instead, yanking the elfling to his feet, he dragged him deeper into the forest—and the path they took was toward Imladris.

At about this time, the Cat noticed that Anomen had never returned from the forest. He stood above Elladan and Elrohir glowering down at them.

"So the brat has proved faithless," he snarled. "Now I've got to catch him all over again. He has caused me trouble, and you may be sure that I will take it out on your hides!"

Fortunately, before he could act upon this resolution, one of the other Men wondered aloud where Wollust had gotten to. The Man's rage instantly found another target.

"I see how it is," he growled. "Wollust has stolen away with him. Well, he is going to rue the day he ever took a fancy to that pretty Elf. I won't kill him—oh, no, that would be too easy! But I'll fix him so he'll never again take pleasure in the sight or the feel of Elf or maiden."

Since the Cat did not believe that Anomen had run away, he did not expect the elfling to lead any warriors back to the camp. Therefore, he gave no orders that they break camp and flee from those parts. He had meant to rest one full day, and he still intended to do so. Instead, he took a few picked Men and, going into the woods, he and his followers cast about until they came upon the trail of Anomen and his new master. Once they happened upon it, the hunt was on.

The Cat was well named, and the Men he had chosen did him credit. Together they moved through the forest as noiselessly as felines stalking their prey. Wollust had only lately become a member of their band, and he did not dream how closely they followed him. At last, he decided that it was safe to pause and indulge himself with his new possession. He suddenly jerked Anomen to a halt and threw him to the floor of the forest. Anomen landed on his stomach, and before he could react, Wollust had flipped him onto his back and straddled his hips, at the same time gripping Anomen's wrists and pulling his arms above his head. He smirked down at the terrified elfling trapped beneath him.

But the Valar had not in fact forgotten Anomen, although they chose a strange instrument by which to effect his rescue. Suddenly someone seized Wollust by the hair and yanked him off the elfling. The Man gave a howl of pain as he was flung unto the ground, but then he grew very quiet as he caught sight of his assailant. Above him, his knife drawn, stood the Cat.

"C-c-c-at," he stammered. "The l-l-ittle brat was running off, and I f-f-ollowed after him."

"Judging from the tracks," replied the Cat coolly, "you caught up with him several miles ago." He nodded at his Men.

"Tie him with his back to that tree."

The Men dragged Wollust to the tree and pulled his arms to either side of it so that, his eyes filled with dread, he stood facing the Cat, who carelessly played with his knife for a few minutes before drawing near to his victim. He stood considering for a moment, as if deciding what to do. In fact, he already knew what injuries he meant to inflict, and he was merely playing with his prey—like a cat. At last, slowly and deliberately, he raised the knife and held it so that it nearly touched one of Wollust's eyes.

Anomen was lying on the ground, too frightened to move. He squeezed his eyes shut when the Cat pointed his blade at Wollust's face, but he heard the wails of the Man as the Cat plunged his blade into first one eye, then the other. These wails were as nothing, however, to what Anomen heard next. For the Cat had not finished. Now he drove his knife into the crotch of the Man, twisting the blade several times for good measure. Wollust howled as if Sauron himself tormented him. The Cat stepped back and surveyed his handiwork. Satisfied, he nodded.

"That will do," he said. "I had thought to hack off his hands as well, but then he would die too quickly. It is better so."

Dismissing his victim from his mind, he now turned his attention to Anomen, who still lay on his back, his eyes tightly closed. The elfling gasped as the Cat leaned down and laid hold of him, but the Man merely tossed him over his shoulder, guessing—and rightly so—that Anomen would be incapable of walking for the time being. Draped over the Man's shoulder, Anomen kept his eyes squeezed shut the entire distance as he was carried back to the camp, and he did not open them until the Cat had dumped him by the campfire and he heard Elladan and Elrohir's worried voices.

"Anomen!" Elrohir said urgently. "Anomen, are you hurt?"

Anomen looked up at him in a daze but managed to speak.

"Not hurt, really, just, just, just—terrified!"

Elrohir helped him to sit up, and Elladan held a water bladder to his mouth. After a bit, Anomen had recovered enough to give an account to the twins of what had happened—but it was an account strangely lacking in details. The gist of it was that Wollust had followed him and tried to steal him for himself, but that the Cat had caught up with him and retaken the elfling.

Elrohir looked about the camp.

"At least that nasty Man hasn't returned. Has the Cat dismissed him from his company?"

"Yes," Anomen replied weakly. "He is no longer a member of the band."

And then he retched violently. Elrohir threw his arms around him, and Elladan patted his head. Anomen jumped when he first felt his foster-brother's hand upon his hair, but he calmed when he realized who it was.

Several decades would pass before Anomen told Elladan and Elrohir the complete story of what had happened in the woods. For one thing, he didn't altogether understand himself what had happened—or nearly happened—and until he did he couldn't explain matters to anyone else.

The twins, however, did not care about the details, for their only concern was for Anomen's well-being. He assured them again and again that he was uninjured, but still they would not leave off hovering over him. At last, though, they were forced away from him. The Cat abruptly decreed that they would break camp, even though it was near nightfall. Wollust's attempt to steal Anomen had impressed upon him the value of his captives, and he wanted to make for the south as rapidly as possible. "The sooner we return home," he thought to himself, "the sooner we will be sure of our profit." Now he strode to where the elflings huddled, seized Anomen, and flung him back over his shoulder. This one he would keep with him at all times. The twins began to protest, but he silenced them with a venomous glare before ordering Men to take charge of each of the two. Bearing Anomen, he took his place at the head of the column, and Elladan and Elrohir were jostled about somewhere in the middle of it. At his signal, the band moved out, heading south, with every step journeying further from Imladris and any hope of rescue.