Legosgurl: Goodness! Do stop to take a breath! I don't want any of my readers passing out on the floor! (Now, of course, I don't mind if they are in the situation of ROTFLMAO, although that doesn't seem likely to happen in this particular story.)
Griffin: No problem. Apparently a few of my readers were rather startled at the turn the story took. But I would never, ever do anything that cruel to Anomen.
Kel: The Rivendell cavalry will soon arrive (but on foot!).
MysticHeero: Thank you, MysticHeero. I will indeed keep on writing, as it is so much fun, both the writing itself and hearing back from you folks!
Joee: Um, the story will take one or two more twists. Not everyone will escape entirely unscathed.
Thereisnotryonlydo: Thank you so much! I mean, not for hoping that I remain depressed (or at least in the writing mode!) but for recommending me to your friends!
Karri: Yeah, I took that one right to the edge before I pulled it back. A few readers thought I was going to take it right over the edge! Actually, I suppose that means the story was working. I put it in the Suspense category (as well as Angst, of course), and if readers were worried, then I guess it was suspenseful!
Andi-Black: There is another 'Eww' paragraph in this chapter, I think. Hope you don't end up disturbing your Dad's sleep!
Dragonfly: Hmm, Andi-Black writes 'Eww', and you write 'Yuck'. Looks like this story has provoked some very visceral responses! Yes, in a way it does turn out for the best that Wollust followed Anomen. The twins had really put themselves into a risky situation by convincing Anomen to flee. Did you notice that Elrohir urged it first? For all his bullying, he really does love Anomen. Yes, Wollust learned his lesson—but it won't do him much good, now, will it!?
Beta Reader: Dragonfly
Green and Gold: Chapter 4
As the Men fled southward with their prisoners, Glorfindel and his scouts were journeying that direction as well. Had they been only a little further south, they might have heard the screams of Wollust and been able to put a speedy end to Anomen's distress, as well as to that of the twins. As it was, however, they did not become aware of Wollust until they drew near enough to hear the moans of the mutilated Man. They crept toward the sound and were horrified when they came upon him, still tied to the tree, his eyes gouged out, his genitals slashed. They untied him and laid him upon the ground. They offered him water, but he could only drink a little. It was enough, however, to allow him speak.
"Who did this to you?" demanded Glorfindel.
"The Cat—he did it."
Although Wollust could not see, he judged from the melodious voice of his questioner that he was an Elf, and he was eager to ingratiate himself with him.
"I was helping an elfling escape," he whimpered, "but we were captured, and this is how the Cat revenged himself upon me."
The Elves could not see into his eyes to judge the Man's truthfulness, but they knew he lied.
"You took the elfling for your own purposes and not out of kindness," said Glorfindel accusingly.
If the Man had had eyes, he would have wept. But his voice trembled as he admitted the truth.
"I did," he quavered. "I did steal him, but I have been punished, my Lords. Please do not torment me further!"
"We are neither Men nor Orcs, but Elves," Glorfindel declared indignantly. "Tell us what we want to know, and we will ease your passing."
"I will," gasped the Man.
"There was the one elfling?"
"Yes."
"Were there any others?"
"Two others—three in all. Two dark-haired, one light."
"Do the other two yet live?"
"They were well when I left the camp."
Relief showed on the face of each and every Elf. All three elflings had been taken captive—better than that any of them should have been slain—at least for the time being.
"Does their captor mean to keep them?"
"The Cat wishes to carry them to Harad, where they will fetch a fair price."
Glorfindel wished he could break his promise to not torture the Man before him, as he was the only one present upon whom he could vent his rage. But he held his fury in check because he had need of more information.
"This Cat is not alone?"
"No, he has a band of followers."
"How many?"
"Thirty at the least," gasped the Man.
"Well-armed?"
"All have swords. About half have bows."
"Well-led?"
"The Cat—the Cat—very clever he is."
"If we attack this band, would he slay his prisoners upon the instant?"
"They are very valuable. The Cat forfeits nothing of value without a struggle. But if the battle goes against him, he will slay them out of sheer spite."
Glorfindel nodded grimly. He had expected this answer. He stood thoughtfully, considering what it would be best to do. Berenmaethor interrupted his musings.
"Glorfindel, this Man has told us all that he knows. Let us now release him from his pain."
Glorfindel looked with revulsion upon the mutilated Man who writhed before him. It would indeed be a kindness to put him out of his misery—although it was a mercy the human surely did not deserve! Reluctantly, Glorfindel drew his knife, knelt by the Man, and drove his knife into the sufferer's throat. The Man gasped and gurgled briefly before he gave one last jerk and lay still.
Glorfindel wiped off his knife upon the dead Man's tunic. Then he arose.
"These Men lack even the semblance of a conscience. We must reach our kinsfolk as quickly as we may. If it suits the humans—if the elflings inconvenience them in any way—they would not hesitate to slay one or more of them. Aye, and it would be a brutal death, too. Given half a chance, these Men will wring as much entertainment as possible from a captive before killing him. They kill cleanly only when they are in a hurry and never out of mercy."
All the Elves looked grave. Rather than see the elflings subject to torture, they would rather slay the young ones themselves. Kin-slaying this would be, but they would willingly take upon themselves the suffering of knowing that they had killed one of their own if by doing so they could spare the victim pain.
For now, however, there was still hope that such a drastic step would be unnecessary. After tossing a few branches over the Man's body—they grudged the time necessary for a proper burial, deeming the elflings' welfare to be more important—the Elves loped off in pursuit of Anomen and his captors. The trail was now easy to follow, as many feet had trampled the vegetation, and the Elves did not mean to pause for rest until they had caught up with the Men and their prisoners.
The Cat, too, was determined to press on without rest or refreshment. Inexorably, he drove his Men forward, even after they had begun to grumble at the pace. But Men have not the resilience of Elves, and at last even the Cat's threats began to lose their efficaciousness. Rather than risk an open revolt that might jeopardize his leadership, the Cat wisely decided to call a halt. He tossed Anomen none too gently upon the ground and then curtly ordered Elladan and Elrohir to fetch wood. The twins were practically staggering from exhaustion because, unlike Anomen, they had had to run the entire distance, their guards slashing at their legs with sticks whenever they flagged. The Cat, however, had no pity, and they did not dare utter a word of complaint. Wearily they headed for the words and began to gather sticks. Suddenly Elladan straightened himself and listened intently to a bird that had been calling insistently for quite some time.
"Elrohir," he said softly, "do you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
"That bird."
" Of course I hear that bird—we're in the woods, Elladan—what did you expect to hear?"
Under normal circumstances, Elladan would have showered Elrohir with such endearments as 'troll-brain' or 'dwarf-pate', but these were not normal circumstances, and Elladan let the opportunity pass.
"Elrohir," he said, trying hard to keep from speaking loudly in his excitement, "that bird dwells only in one place in Middle-earth—in Lothlórien!"
"Then what's it doing here?" said Elrohir stupidly.
Elladan's eyebrows shot up in a fair imitation of Elrond's.
"Don't you see, Elrohir? It's not a bird!"
"Oh," said Elrohir. "OH!" he repeated, the truth at last dawning upon him. "Elladan, as we gather sticks, we must move toward the sound of that bird!"
"You don't say," retorted Elladan ironically, his eyebrows still elevated. Elrohir blushed a little, but then they got down to the business of edging toward the bird call, which was repeated every few minutes. They had each gathered quite a bundle of sticks before Glorfindel addressed them from out of a bush.
"You are greener than ever I was," he twitted them. "I was beginning to wonder if you would ever pay any mind to that bird call."
"We're sorry, Glorfindel," said Elrohir humbly.
Glorfindel chuckled.
"No need to apologize. That's just my way of saying that I am so very glad to see you well—reasonably well, at any rate. Why is Anomen not with you? I pray that he, too, is well."
"He is," replied Elladan. "But we all of us are never permitted to leave the camp at the same time. And Anomen is not allowed to leave the camp without a guard."
"I see."
Glorfindel considered and then told Elrohir to draw nearer. The balrog-slayer pulled his knife from its sheath.
"Elrohir, I am going to hide this knife in the midst of this bundle of sticks that you carry. When you return to camp, you must contrive to slip it to Anomen. Then you and Elladan must somehow manage to again leave the camp."
"As soon as the campfires need replenishing," said Elrohir, "we will be sent to gather more wood anyway."
"Good. Before you venture forth, tell Anomen that he should wait a bit and then try to get away from the camp himself. Even if he is accompanied by a guard, that will make our job the easier. We need merely pick off the guard and flee hence. A battle may not even be required."
Elrohir looked doubtful.
"I do not think they will let him leave until they see us return."
"You are probably right. But he should try. Tell him that if he is thwarted, he must not be dismayed. He should keep the knife on his person and stay alert. We will come for him."
"We will do exactly as you say," promised Elladan. Both he and his brother had determined expressions upon their faces.
"Good. I know that you will not fail. Go now."
As Glorfindel watched them head back toward the camp, he murmured to Berenmaethor, "At least Anomen is valuable enough to the humans to be especially guarded. That means he will certainly not be slain out of hand if we must attack the camp."
Berenmaethor nodded, and then he slipped off to move his scouts into positions nearer the camp.