A/N: Hello again, if there is anyone still reading this, we are back to our favourite twins in this chapter! If you have a weird obsession with torture or something,there will be a bit in this chap but not that much because this is just the beginning! But I don't see how anyone would like that stuff, it's unnatural... too kinky for ME (COUGH) weirdos... (wink)


Chapter 8

Dawning Despair

The dawn was agonizingly slow in breaking; Elrohir craved the sunlight that would filter through the seemingly impermeable darkness. They had met up with the other half of orcs the day before, Elrohir confirmed to himself. They had been drugged often, but sometimes they had been able to steal a few hours grace. In those fleeting and blurry hours, Elrohir had come to the conclusion that the orcs were not taking them to their final destination quite yet. It was dawn now and he strained his memory to the past night. 'Something important happened... something they were waiting for' Elrohir decided. While drifting in and out of conciousness, he had caught sights of a battle in which their unfortunate prey was so outnumbered that he hadn't been able to catch a glimpse of them. But later that night once the excitement had died down, he had heard something that had pierced his drug induced mental state, a raw voice crying it's protest to the celestial bodies above. Elrohir shivered and groped with his good hand for his brother. Catching the rough fabric of his cloak, he leaned in close to his head, trying to feel warm breath on his face. With bated breath he counted his breathing pattern... one... two...three... fou - there. There was the next inhale. Sighing his relief to no one, he laid back down. He had been concerned for him, he had reacted badly to the drug initially but now it was worse, with the constant druggings and the incident when they had first found conciousness after their ambush. Elrohir arched his back slightly, frowning at the raised weal on his back. 'But I was lucky' he thought as his fading concentration fell back to their awakening in the net two days earlier, when they had been captured and Elladan the first to be dragged to the tree.

(flashback)

The clouds obscuring the bright moon was a relief to Elladan but not so much to Elrohir. It was for Elladan in the sense that the orcs would recieve less pleasure in the viewing of his pain, but Elrohir wished for the light so he could study every single orc that participated and he could hunt them down later. The unknown orc began pushing Elladan towards the slightly spiked tree. Catcalls and roars of approval rang out from the makeshift orc camp at this sight, giving the orc's already brimming confidence a boost. 'You have to put up some sort of fight!' one part of Elladan's brain screamed at him. 'But I can hardly stand...' the other part argued with faltering faith. Luckily for Elladan the two parts compromised and he collapsed on the uneven roots beneath him. The orc had no tolerance for any sort of pathetic half-hearted attempts at escape.

'Arrh git up!' he grumbled, hooking his claws in his cloak and dragging him up once again, this time pulling him more than pushing. 'Yew know, I really don' wanta do 'dis to yah, but... orders are orders!' he cackled sarcastically and pushed him to the waiting bole in which they had reached. Tripping over his own wavering feet and the roots, Elladan connected with the trunk of the tree - and the small but keen nails in which they were housed. Elladan drew his escaping breath in quickly and instinctively pulled back, once again feeling like he couldn't breathe due to the fact that he was being deflated. But he was only able to escape the cold embrace of the glints of steel for moments until a fist slamming into his back forced him to meet them once again - this time piercing slightly different locations than the last time. Elladan closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing, not the burning points in his stomach, shoulder leg and other various places.

'Don't worry, they aren't that long and won't do much damage' he reassured himself.

"Wat do yew think yer doin'? Takin' off 'is shirt?" hissed a nearby orc, who had apparently wanted to see the elves taught a lesson as well. His comment was directed to the orc who had dragged Elladan from the net and ultimately prioritized his desire for bloodshed above Furnash's rage at being disobeyed. "Et's goin ta be too obvious to Furnash if yeh don' leave 'im some protection. He'll 'ave yer 'ead if he knows yeh took 'em out for sport!". The offending orc stopped and a pouty look came across his face. The other, not knowing why he was helping the sadistic orc, stalked towards him and pushed him out of the way and finished tying the thick leather strips around Elladan. Elladan silently thanked the Valar that he had been spared some protection. But thanking them could only last so long, as the still unknown orc began to lay into his back with the over used whip. Elladan gritted his teeth as there was no escape to this slow, but gradually building pain. He could not press himself into the tree any more unless he wanted to dig the metal spurs into himself more, yet pulling himself back would only expose his back to the whip even more. Elladan shifted his attention to the protruding roots that seemed to be trying to escape the foul and dry soil, reaching out desperately for anything more wholesome. Just like he was.

(end flashback)

Elrohir started back to the present as Furnash's hand forced some foul looking paste from a crude container down his throat and in turn did the same for Elladan. Elrohir shook his head, reprimanding himself for allowing his mind to wander. 'But this isn't natural' he reminded himself, 'it must be the drug... it's affecting my mind'. No sooner had he finished these mental comments, he disobeyed them and drifted off to that night once more.

(flashback)

The image of Elladan's body with his slashed and bloody back being dragged back to himself in the net flashed before his blinking eyes. He had been brought back. But Elladan had only been exchanged for him. The same orc gurgled something at him that he could not comprehend (or maybe that was just his failing memory not comprehending?) and dragged him to the tree with the help of two others, seeing as he had not been affected as bad as Elladan. He had stared at the cruel steel, glistening with sticky torment, before his flesh was forced into them as well. Elrohir almost savoured the release from the mental agony of watching his brother being damaged. Elladan was a part of him, they were spiritually as one, one always there for the other. Yet only one blissful slice of the whip was allowed as Furnash's ear splitting voice was heard for miles. He had seen a piece of paper that had fluttered out of the whipping orc's pocket and had naturally picked it up and read it. Too bad the orc had been too interested in causing Elrohir pain.

"Yew SCUM!" Furnash roared, "Sharkey sent ME a message an' YEW took et!". The orc that had sinned look utterly trapped. Furnash continued to shout and wave the battered parchment wildly in the air. "Let me guess... you saw one 'o 'em crebain comin' and figured it was Sharkey's latest orders, which means we'd be movin' out 'o here and yer chance fer play time would be over!". The orc seemed to wither even more and his silence wasn't helping. "I will NOT tolerate 'dis... MUTINY!" he yelled, spitting out the last word as if it were elvish. It was most defintely the end of the orc and he knew it by looking at Furnash's livid visage. If the colour of Furnash's face could be determined underneath his permanent grime, it would be an unpleasant eggplant.

"I..." the orc stuttered. Then turned tail and ran.

"GET 'IM" bellowed Furnash. It would be pointless to say that he survived that dogpile that ensued.

(end flashback)


Aragorn was still restless as the sharp wind continued it's ceaseless echoes. But at least he had company at this point.

"So you say we've been up here for how long?" questioned Gimli, frantically trying to loose a hand to scratch a particularly itchy spot in his beard.

"About half a day, it's almost morning now and we were tied here early last night" Aragorn sighed, his head sagging towards his left shoulder.

"Oh. Have those dead lads managed to loose themselves?" Gimli returned pointedly.

"Very amusing, master dwarf. I tried contacting them but they seem to have been swept off with the wind".

"Is that so... here ghosties! We need you now, so you can get up off of your lazy rear ends and untie us!". The wind howled in reply. Aragorn shook his head, half in amusement, half in disappointment that his attempt hadn't worked. But that didn't bother him long, for it was suddenly as if someone had ripped his scalp off and was peering inside his head into his every thought. Aragorn frantically brought up the mental shields he had been preparing for just such an occasion and held them in place until the violator of his mind gave up. But it was a while until he did; it was the longest time Aragorn had to keep up those barriers. Aragorn sighed as the intruder left.

"What's the matter?" Gimli questioned, a quizzical expression on his face.

"Someone has been trying to get into my head and read my thoughts. For what purpose I do not know, but there are many evils out there". Gimli looked surprised.

"How long has this been happening?".

"Just the past few days, I still don't know who it is, but I'm pretty sure their intentions aren't pure and that it is crucial that I keep my thoughts. I must command them to obey me". Suddenly, with Aragorn's last line speaking of obeying, the green evanescence of warriors and the lone king returned.


A/N: Whoa! Was that long or what? Woot! So I hope that tied up all those loose ends you were just dying to know about! (wink) As usual, please R&R, mentioning specific details you enjoyed! I was a little short of reviews last chapter... (cries in corner)