Black Eyes
Chapter Eight: Requiem
by Capella
A/N: S'that time again. Time for a new chapter! I'm being so good lately -- no two-month breaks in between chapters.
I know you all were wondering why the heck Rumil egged Draco on -- I bet a good number of you thought it was a plot hole. *grins* Well, it's not! Surprise, surprise!
You know, I think you guys could possibly the coolest readers ever. Ever ever ever, and I mean it, too. It sounds silly, but I feel so much better after I read what you guys said. So honestly, thank you more than anything for leaving me the wonderful reviews during my "why-even-write-when-Tolkien-whoops-me-up-like-I-owe-him-child-support" phase. I love you, I love you, I love you!
This got a bit more violent than I thought it would. And a bit more graphic, though I have a feeling that ya'll won't mind that. But all the same, it's got some rather violent scenes in it.
This chapter is officially dedicated to Whitney, for one of the best birthday presents ever. I loved it, and you should so be a professional. Peter Jackson would be jealous.
_________________________
"Some say the word will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice."
-- Robert Frost, "Fire and Ice"
_________________________
There was a hand on his shoulder, shaking him back into awareness. Strange that he had not remembered falling asleep nor getting off the horse.
"Wake up, Legolas," a voice whispered into his ear. "I need you to tell me something, please."
It was the please more than anything else that made Legolas climb unsteadily to his feet. Harry stood before him, hands on his hips, tunic unlaced. Legolas kept his eyes firmly on Harry's face, which was beginning to look amused.
"What do you want?"
"I'm afraid I don't know how to get to the Gray Havens," Harry said sweetly, stretching his arms over his head, shirt riding up and showing his flat tanned stomach. He made it all look completely innocent. There was a strange feeling in the pit of Legolas's stomach that felt a bit too much like fear.
"I apologize then," he returned in the same way, watching Harry's face carefully for signs of anger. "I am forbidden to show any but those with permission to the Gray Havens. I am afraid that I simply cannot." His gaze lowered for a moment despite his hardest efforts, lingering on the smooth curve of Harry's neck and shoulder. Harry saw his eyes lower and smiled.
"And if I was willing to offer something in trade?" Harry said in a smoky tone that should not have been taken from the bedroom, managing somehow to shrug in a way that caused his tunic to slip down and bare a creamy shoulder. Harry glanced at it and then looked back at Legolas from beneath sinfully long lashes.
Legolas drew in a breath to refuse, and Harry walked -- no, undulated -- to him, somehow pressing the entire length of his body against Legolas's own. His breath was damp and soft against Legolas's neck.
"Because, trust me," Harry whispered, so softly that even Legolas's ears had trouble hearing him, "I would be entirely willing." He licked the side of Legolas's neck, laughing when he felt the shudder that ran through the elf's body.
Legolas curled his hands into fists at his sides. He could not touch Harry. No matter how tempting the opportunity was. "I must not," he said, voice hoarse with the effort of refusing the offer even as Harry wound his limbs around Legolas's body. "I must not."
"You are sure?" Harry asked. His hands snuck up under Legolas's tunic, skin impossibly hot. His lips were so close to Legolas's own that Legolas felt the whisper of them every time Harry talked. His hands shook with the effort of not bridging the tiny distance between them.
"I am."
With an irritated snort, Harry pushed off from Legolas, the loss of contact sending a wistful shiver up Legolas's spine. "Gods, but you weary me," Harry muttered, inspecting his fingernails before looking up at Legolas seriously. "I do not know quite what to do now. I must get to the Gray Havens, and I must keep you alive, but now you will not tell me how to get there and I find myself reluctant to do the latter." He spread his hands in a guileless shrug as if none of it were of his doing. "What am I to do?"
"Not go?" Legolas asked dryly, regretting it immediately. But Harry simply laughed as if Legolas had uttered the funniest witticism and continued as if Legolas had not spoken.
"I'm afraid that if I am forced to take the information from you, it will not be pleasant for you. Although I'm certain it will be quite entertaining for me. Now, please, reconsider. I do not wish to waste my time with something so trivial that you will end up giving me anyway."
"You are so sure of that?"
"Yes."
Harry's eyes were cold.
"Then I suppose my evening will not be pleasant," Legolas said lightly. "I --"
Harry cut him off abruptly by stalking closer, his every move radiating malevolence.
"It takes hours to beat a man to death," Harry whispered, steady green gaze boring into Legolas's own until Legolas had to repress a shudder. "That is a very long time to scream for the mercy that you will not get."
Legolas forced himself to look Harry straight in the eye. "Do as you will to me," he said, watching helplessly as Harry's eyes grew narrow with rage. "It will not bend my will nor break my spirit. I will not show you the path to the Gray Havens."
Harry's lip curled back in a feral snarl. "You have just made a very large mistake, Legolas," he hissed. "One I am not sure you will live to regret." Without warning, he grabbed Legolas by the throat and squeezed, forcing Legolas to his knees and then to his back. Legolas clawed at the hand that was crushing his windpipe, trying to draw in breath. Tiny black specks floated across his vision.
Harry abruptly let go. Legolas coughed, his hands going to his throat, and Harry grabbed his shoulders and flipped him onto his back, pinning him with a foot to the back of his neck. Knowing that the slightest provocation would bring that foot crushing through his spine, Legolas went deathly still.
Harry bent down, keeping the foot carefully on his neck. "Move, and I will kill you," he said softly, and the foot was removed. Legolas stayed where he was, his heart beating a frantic tattoo against his chest.
Legolas heard Harry's footsteps return and suddenly there was a rope binding his two wrists together. He winced when the rope was pulled too tightly. Despite himself, he began to feel a desperate swell of fear.
From somewhere above him, Harry spoke, a smile in his voice. "Magic is so -- impersonal, sometimes, don't you agree, Legolas?" There was a whoosh, and a thick branch cracked down on Legolas's thigh, breaking the skin and making him wince. "But sometimes, magic combined with the right physical abuse makes it that much better." A foot slammed into his side. He heard the distinct sound of a rib cracking and stifled a whimper behind his teeth, determined not to make any noise. "I suppose you don't know what I'm talking about. Let me show you."
Legolas twisted his head to speak just as Harry whispered "Crucio," and what had began life as a plea somehow became a choked scream.
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There was a strange haze of red around his vision. He itched to hex someone, kill someone, and in the back of his mind that was still rational, he knew that he did not want that someone to be Haldir.
There was really only one person he could think to blame now. Someone who was coincidentally walking down the hall towards him.
"Draco!" Rumil said, grinning widely, obviously taking in Draco's flushed complexion and making assumptions. Draco wanted to wrap his fingers around Rumil's throat.
Draco put his hands on Rumil's shoulders and shoved him back, advancing after Rumil when he stumbled back. He was dying to pull out his wand.
"You deceived me," he hissed in a low voice, watching as Rumil's eyes widened. "My God, you all but gave me your blessings. And you let me find out that he's -- betrothed?" He pulled back a fist, intending to smash it squarely into Rumil's guilty face.
Rumil raised both his hands, his large gray eyes pleading. "Please, Draco. You do not understand --"
"Fuck you," Draco said, and bit his lip in agitation. He'd never meant to get so enraged -- he'd wanted to get an explanation, but he was beginning to think that casting an Unforgivable or two would not be amiss. He closed his eyes, took a breath, and began again. When he spoke, his voice was acceptably calm. "Why didn't you tell me Haldir was betrothed?"
Rumil sighed, cautiously putting his hands down as if he expected Draco to change his mind and attack him. "Haldir's betrothed lives in Lothlorien, over which he guarded. She was handmaiden to Galadriel. He met her on one of his patrols, and she was instantly smitten with him." Giving him a wry look, Rumil shrugged and a corner of his lip twitched. "Even if you do not know Haldir well, you should know by now that he has an unshakable sense of duty. This handmaiden had fallen so deeply in love with him that he saw it as his duty to marry her. I -- I do not know what his feelings are towards her. He has never revealed them to me."
Draco felt strangely emotionless. It took him a while to realize that Rumil had stopped speaking. "This elf -- is she beautiful?" he asked, immediately regretting it. Rumil's mouth twisted.
"She is beautiful," he said simply. Draco's heart gave a painful little lurch in his chest.
"That still doesn't explain why you didn't -- " he began, and suddenly it dawned on him. Draco's eyes widened despite himself. "You're in love with her."
Rumil raised his hands with an expression of shock on his face, but Draco plowed on determinedly.
"You wanted me to entice Haldir away from his betrothed." Draco studied Rumil's face. "So you used me. Clever."
Rumil opened his mouth as if he wanted to protest, but dropped his hands and shook his head instead. "You are wise," he said dryly. "I cannot say anything in my defense. When you arrived, I saw how he looked at you. He knew you were beautiful." Rumil flashed a cheeky grin at him. "So did I. Were I not in love, I would have gone after you myself." He stopped, sighing and becoming melancholy again. "But I am in love, and to all appearances, my plan has failed." He scrubbed a hand through his hair and looked so pitiful that Draco felt an unfamiliar swell of sympathy. He couldn't honestly say that he wouldn't have done the same if he had been in Rumil's position.
But there was the matter of his pride. Pride dictated that he act like a Malfoy. Pride demanded that he not help his betrayer. Pride was what he had sacrificed when he'd fallen in love with Harry, and goddamn it, he would not do anything of the sort ever again.
He turned his head a bit to the side, curling his lip as if he'd seen something especially repulsive. He added a raised eyebrow for effect. "This is heartwrenching, truly, but I'm afraid that I don't think I can help you with your -- problem," he sneered, watching as Rumil's expression changed from sadness to shock. "Haldir was a momentary solution to my boredom. A distraction; nothing else. Nothing that I would be inclined to pursue further."
"What are you talking about, Draco?" Rumil asked incredulously. "I know you feel something for him, be it desire or fondness. Either, given time, can evolve into love. And I need your help."
"Touching. But this is not my problem." He turned to go with that parting blow, flicking his cloak behind him.
"This is your problem." Rumil's voice was icy. "Haldir is leaving to meet his fiancee at the Gray Havens in three days. You alone can find a way to keep him here. Whether you succeed or not, I will be leaving then. I would be greatly indebted to you if you somehow managed to persuade him to stay." His voice had changed from cold to pleading at the last. Draco ruthlessly suppressed a last wave of pity.
"I see. But I can find more worthy pursuits. I suggest you drop this subject." He gave a sickly sweet, serpent's smile to Rumil over his shoulder before stalking off, a strange pain in his chest.
_________________________
"Ai! Saes! S-saes!"
"I don't think I heard you, Legolas. Are you asking me for something?"
"Saes -- daro! Harry! Do not d-do this!"
"Tell me what I want to hear."
"Harry, I m-must not!"
Swish crack. A scream.
"Well, that's too bad, Legolas. Ah, well, I can't be too disappointed." Another crack, and a cry. "This is the most fun I've had in ages."
"Saes, mercy -- "
"No, I don't think so. Now, I want you to count."
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Draco slowed down once he turned the corner, pressing his back against the wall and leaning his head forward onto his chest. His middle felt hollow.
"Three days," he mumbled to himself. Strange how those two words could evoke such a sense of longing. But he would keep himself occupied. Keep himself from thinking of the beautiful elf, Haldir's fiancee, waiting at the Gray Havens. If she was as beautiful as Rumil had thought she was, no doubt Haldir was in love with her, after all. It -- hurt, in a way that only a few people had managed to hurt him, to think that he had only been pursuit -- a momentary distraction to Haldir's boredom, he thought with a curl to his lip. He'd had his fair share of those up until fifth year, and a good number after Harry, as well. He had never thought he would be on the receiving end of an illicit affair.
"Nice time for karma to finally bite me in the ass," he muttered, and a servant girl scurrying by him dropped her basket of laundry and cast a shocked look before hurrying about her duties twice as fast as before. He had to get his mind off of Haldir.
He used the simplest route that his mind had been traversing even before he'd begun worrying about Haldir. Harry was out there somewhere. Perhaps if he took the fastest horse -- but, no. He'd already told himself that rushing off on a fool's errand such as the one he was contemplating would simply not happen. Even if he was worried sick about Harry.
Somehow, he changed his mind in the space of time it took for him to get to Aragorn's room.
_________________________
"I can't hear you counting, Legolas. Must I start over?"
"No -- oh, g-gods, please -- f-fifteen --"
_________________________
Draco had to clear his throat twice before he finally caught Aragorn's attention.
"A search party," he demanded. "It's been a half a day. More than a half a day. Have you sent out a search party yet?"
Arwen and Aragorn exchanged looks. A nagging sense of suspicion grew in Draco's mind.
"Draco," Arwen started, and then stopped, shaking her head.
"What?"
Aragorn stepped forward, putting a gentle hand on Draco's shoulder. "We sent out a search party," he said softly. "Haldir insisted upon going. As soon as Legolas and Harry are found, Haldir plans on going directly to the Gray Havens to meet his fiancee. I am sorry."
Draco shrugged Aragorn's hand off his shoulder, feeling a bit like a petulant child. He had no doubt that he was pouting like one.
"I don't care," he said sullenly. His mind was racing, trying to think of a way to catch up to Haldir, even as he acknowledged in the back of his mind that it was near impossible.
"Draco," Arwen said again, carefully. "Would you mind terribly if we sent you out looking for Harry and Legolas, as well? We could use your powers in the search, if Harry is truly acting as you said he was."
Draco smiled at her, surprisingly genuine despite himself. He knew what she was doing. She sent him a small smile in return.
"I would be honored."
_________________________
For a long, long moment Legolas could not think of anything but that the pain had stopped coming.
Then the feeling returned to his body and he had to stifle a cry. He was on fire -- the backs of his legs, his backs, his arms. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to exist. He stared down to where blood had run down his back and legs, gathering in a red pool on the ground beneath his feet. His tunic was damp with sweat and blood and hanging off him in shreds.
He must have stopped screaming at some point, but he couldn't remember when.
He almost couldn't remember when Harry had untied his hands from behind his back, only to drag him between two trees and tie him there instead, one arm to each tree. He hung there now, his legs unable to keep him standing.
He became aware of the noises he was making. Pitiful, whimpering cries and sobbing breaths. The slow trickle of blood down his body was agonizing. Gods, but he wanted to die.
"Look at me, Legolas." There were fingers beneath his chin, forcing his head up so that he could look into Harry's cold eyes. Harry's hand cupped his cheek with false sympathy, an amused smile on his face. "Now, are you going to tell me? I can continue this, if you would like. I do not need you to be able to stand for you to lead me to the Gray Havens." His hand gently caressed Legolas's skin. There were tiny drops of blood splattered across Harry's left cheek.
"Please --"
Legolas's voice was hoarse from hours of screaming, his mouth filled with foamy blood from where he'd bitten his lips and tongue to shreds to keep silent. He writhed in his bonds slightly. Even that slight motion caused his abused muscles to scream in protest.
Harry's eyes narrowed. "You will take me there."
Legolas's eyes drifted despite himself to the bloody branch in Harry's left hand. Harry saw him and grinned, raising an eyebrow.
"I take it you do not wish for me to continue," he said, sympathetic, his thumb rubbing away the blood leaking from the corner of Legolas's mouth. "Say you will take me to the Gray Havens and I will release you."
"I will -- I will do anything you ask of me," he said between sobs, voice cracking with the intensity of his desire to be free. He meant every word. Gods -- he'd never known pain like that had existed.
Harry's smile turned satisfied. "Very nice," he said, leaning closer until his nose was nearly touching Legolas's own. "Now, give me a kiss."
Trembling, Legolas managed to press his lips softly to Harry's own, neither responding nor fighting when Harry coaxed his mouth open. He convulsed violently against his bonds, his sharp cry swallowed by Harry's mouth, when Harry slid his arms around him and pressed them to Legolas's bloody back.
Finally Harry pulled away, smiling, Legolas's blood on his lips and staining his teeth. "Say you love me," he chided gently.
Legolas twisted his arms in the ropes binding him to the trees. "I love you," he said dully. Harry's smile grew expectant, and somehow, Legolas knew what he wanted. "My lord."
"Very prettily said." The bonds on his arms were untied and he collapsed to the ground, boneless, pain shooting through his body. He looked up to Harry through vision blurred with tears that he had somehow managed to not shed.
"Why?" he whimpered, voice breaking. Harry bent down and laid a hand on Legolas's hair, smoothing the sweaty strands away from his face, smirking when Legolas flinched back.
"Oh, Legolas," Harry sighed, fingering the braid hanging next to Legolas's ear. "Do you see how easy this would have been if you had just simply agreed in the first place?" He leaned down close again, his breath puffing gently on Legolas's face. "Does it hurt?" he whispered against Legolas's ear.
Legolas clenched his lips shut and turned his head to one side. Harry's eyes turned cold.
"I thought you learned your lesson, Legolas," he hissed, dragging his fingernails up Legolas's back, smiling at Legolas's scream. Legolas watched through blurry vision as Harry brought his hand up, inspecting the blood beneath his fingernails. "Answer me. Does it?"
"Yes," Legolas gasped desperately, nodding weakly, bringing a hand up to wipe away the sweat that was threatening to drip into his face. He closed his eyes.
"Good." Harry's expression turned pleased. He wiped the blood from his hand off in Legolas's hair. "Then cry for me, Legolas."
Legolas bit his lip, feeling tears sting his closed eyelids, and he forced himself not to cry. But when Harry touched his cheek gently, his resolve broke and the tears came, dissolving into pleading, whimpering cries.
"Manka lle merna, herunya," he managed to whisper between sobs that shook his entire body. The hand that stroked his hair with false comfort somehow only coaxed more tears. He buried his head in his hands and drew a deep shuddering breath.
"None of that, now, Legolas," Harry said, prying Legolas's hands away from his face. He tilted Legolas's face up with a hand under his chin. "You are doing so well. Now, point me the way to the Gray Havens. And please don't pretend you don't know. I am quite familiar with the elvish sense of direction."
Legolas lifted a bloodied, shaking hand and pointed it vaguely off to his right. Harry smiled, pleased, and Legolas felt a shock of longing.
It made it worse, in a way, to know that he still loved Harry -- that even though Harry had blood speckling his face and coldness in his eyes, he was still beautiful, and Legolas could not separate this Harry from the one that he had gone to Valinor to save.
"Thank you, Legolas." The repeated use of his name sounded patronizing. He didn't have the energy to care. "Do you need help getting on the horse?"
"No," Legolas snapped, but he had to use the tree truck to pull himself to his feet. The thought of Harry's hands on his body, even to help him, terrified him beyond rational thinking. It took him three tries to get on Arod's back, even when Arod bent his knees to help him. And then Harry climbed on in front of him.
"Hold on," Harry said softly. Legolas cringed, steeled himself, and carefully wrapped his arms around Harry's waist. Harry laughed and clicked his tongue, the wind ruffling his hair into Legolas's face. Legolas inhaled sharply when the horse started off, the tatters of his tunic rubbing gently against his raw back, and somehow through the wind he managed to catch the faint scent of lye soap and Harry's familiar scent. He leaned his forehead on Harry's back and let the pleasantness of unconsciousness take him away from his wounds and Harry and strangely alluring thoughts of death.
_________________________
Saes -- please
Manka lle merna -- as you wish
Herunya -- my lord
_________________________
A/N: Uh. Yes, well, so it's violent and nasty. Would it be bad if I said that it was sort of fun to write it?
And you guys did so wonderfully wonderful last time with the reviews -- keep it up! I adored it beyond the measure of earthly adoration. Seriously. Plus, today is my birthday! *squee!* Recieved, among other things, the Galadriel ring from the Noble Collection, which I shall add to my One Ring, Ring of Barahir, and Elven Necklace. *dies*
Chapter Eight: Requiem
by Capella
A/N: S'that time again. Time for a new chapter! I'm being so good lately -- no two-month breaks in between chapters.
I know you all were wondering why the heck Rumil egged Draco on -- I bet a good number of you thought it was a plot hole. *grins* Well, it's not! Surprise, surprise!
You know, I think you guys could possibly the coolest readers ever. Ever ever ever, and I mean it, too. It sounds silly, but I feel so much better after I read what you guys said. So honestly, thank you more than anything for leaving me the wonderful reviews during my "why-even-write-when-Tolkien-whoops-me-up-like-I-owe-him-child-support" phase. I love you, I love you, I love you!
This got a bit more violent than I thought it would. And a bit more graphic, though I have a feeling that ya'll won't mind that. But all the same, it's got some rather violent scenes in it.
This chapter is officially dedicated to Whitney, for one of the best birthday presents ever. I loved it, and you should so be a professional. Peter Jackson would be jealous.
_________________________
"Some say the word will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice."
-- Robert Frost, "Fire and Ice"
_________________________
There was a hand on his shoulder, shaking him back into awareness. Strange that he had not remembered falling asleep nor getting off the horse.
"Wake up, Legolas," a voice whispered into his ear. "I need you to tell me something, please."
It was the please more than anything else that made Legolas climb unsteadily to his feet. Harry stood before him, hands on his hips, tunic unlaced. Legolas kept his eyes firmly on Harry's face, which was beginning to look amused.
"What do you want?"
"I'm afraid I don't know how to get to the Gray Havens," Harry said sweetly, stretching his arms over his head, shirt riding up and showing his flat tanned stomach. He made it all look completely innocent. There was a strange feeling in the pit of Legolas's stomach that felt a bit too much like fear.
"I apologize then," he returned in the same way, watching Harry's face carefully for signs of anger. "I am forbidden to show any but those with permission to the Gray Havens. I am afraid that I simply cannot." His gaze lowered for a moment despite his hardest efforts, lingering on the smooth curve of Harry's neck and shoulder. Harry saw his eyes lower and smiled.
"And if I was willing to offer something in trade?" Harry said in a smoky tone that should not have been taken from the bedroom, managing somehow to shrug in a way that caused his tunic to slip down and bare a creamy shoulder. Harry glanced at it and then looked back at Legolas from beneath sinfully long lashes.
Legolas drew in a breath to refuse, and Harry walked -- no, undulated -- to him, somehow pressing the entire length of his body against Legolas's own. His breath was damp and soft against Legolas's neck.
"Because, trust me," Harry whispered, so softly that even Legolas's ears had trouble hearing him, "I would be entirely willing." He licked the side of Legolas's neck, laughing when he felt the shudder that ran through the elf's body.
Legolas curled his hands into fists at his sides. He could not touch Harry. No matter how tempting the opportunity was. "I must not," he said, voice hoarse with the effort of refusing the offer even as Harry wound his limbs around Legolas's body. "I must not."
"You are sure?" Harry asked. His hands snuck up under Legolas's tunic, skin impossibly hot. His lips were so close to Legolas's own that Legolas felt the whisper of them every time Harry talked. His hands shook with the effort of not bridging the tiny distance between them.
"I am."
With an irritated snort, Harry pushed off from Legolas, the loss of contact sending a wistful shiver up Legolas's spine. "Gods, but you weary me," Harry muttered, inspecting his fingernails before looking up at Legolas seriously. "I do not know quite what to do now. I must get to the Gray Havens, and I must keep you alive, but now you will not tell me how to get there and I find myself reluctant to do the latter." He spread his hands in a guileless shrug as if none of it were of his doing. "What am I to do?"
"Not go?" Legolas asked dryly, regretting it immediately. But Harry simply laughed as if Legolas had uttered the funniest witticism and continued as if Legolas had not spoken.
"I'm afraid that if I am forced to take the information from you, it will not be pleasant for you. Although I'm certain it will be quite entertaining for me. Now, please, reconsider. I do not wish to waste my time with something so trivial that you will end up giving me anyway."
"You are so sure of that?"
"Yes."
Harry's eyes were cold.
"Then I suppose my evening will not be pleasant," Legolas said lightly. "I --"
Harry cut him off abruptly by stalking closer, his every move radiating malevolence.
"It takes hours to beat a man to death," Harry whispered, steady green gaze boring into Legolas's own until Legolas had to repress a shudder. "That is a very long time to scream for the mercy that you will not get."
Legolas forced himself to look Harry straight in the eye. "Do as you will to me," he said, watching helplessly as Harry's eyes grew narrow with rage. "It will not bend my will nor break my spirit. I will not show you the path to the Gray Havens."
Harry's lip curled back in a feral snarl. "You have just made a very large mistake, Legolas," he hissed. "One I am not sure you will live to regret." Without warning, he grabbed Legolas by the throat and squeezed, forcing Legolas to his knees and then to his back. Legolas clawed at the hand that was crushing his windpipe, trying to draw in breath. Tiny black specks floated across his vision.
Harry abruptly let go. Legolas coughed, his hands going to his throat, and Harry grabbed his shoulders and flipped him onto his back, pinning him with a foot to the back of his neck. Knowing that the slightest provocation would bring that foot crushing through his spine, Legolas went deathly still.
Harry bent down, keeping the foot carefully on his neck. "Move, and I will kill you," he said softly, and the foot was removed. Legolas stayed where he was, his heart beating a frantic tattoo against his chest.
Legolas heard Harry's footsteps return and suddenly there was a rope binding his two wrists together. He winced when the rope was pulled too tightly. Despite himself, he began to feel a desperate swell of fear.
From somewhere above him, Harry spoke, a smile in his voice. "Magic is so -- impersonal, sometimes, don't you agree, Legolas?" There was a whoosh, and a thick branch cracked down on Legolas's thigh, breaking the skin and making him wince. "But sometimes, magic combined with the right physical abuse makes it that much better." A foot slammed into his side. He heard the distinct sound of a rib cracking and stifled a whimper behind his teeth, determined not to make any noise. "I suppose you don't know what I'm talking about. Let me show you."
Legolas twisted his head to speak just as Harry whispered "Crucio," and what had began life as a plea somehow became a choked scream.
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There was a strange haze of red around his vision. He itched to hex someone, kill someone, and in the back of his mind that was still rational, he knew that he did not want that someone to be Haldir.
There was really only one person he could think to blame now. Someone who was coincidentally walking down the hall towards him.
"Draco!" Rumil said, grinning widely, obviously taking in Draco's flushed complexion and making assumptions. Draco wanted to wrap his fingers around Rumil's throat.
Draco put his hands on Rumil's shoulders and shoved him back, advancing after Rumil when he stumbled back. He was dying to pull out his wand.
"You deceived me," he hissed in a low voice, watching as Rumil's eyes widened. "My God, you all but gave me your blessings. And you let me find out that he's -- betrothed?" He pulled back a fist, intending to smash it squarely into Rumil's guilty face.
Rumil raised both his hands, his large gray eyes pleading. "Please, Draco. You do not understand --"
"Fuck you," Draco said, and bit his lip in agitation. He'd never meant to get so enraged -- he'd wanted to get an explanation, but he was beginning to think that casting an Unforgivable or two would not be amiss. He closed his eyes, took a breath, and began again. When he spoke, his voice was acceptably calm. "Why didn't you tell me Haldir was betrothed?"
Rumil sighed, cautiously putting his hands down as if he expected Draco to change his mind and attack him. "Haldir's betrothed lives in Lothlorien, over which he guarded. She was handmaiden to Galadriel. He met her on one of his patrols, and she was instantly smitten with him." Giving him a wry look, Rumil shrugged and a corner of his lip twitched. "Even if you do not know Haldir well, you should know by now that he has an unshakable sense of duty. This handmaiden had fallen so deeply in love with him that he saw it as his duty to marry her. I -- I do not know what his feelings are towards her. He has never revealed them to me."
Draco felt strangely emotionless. It took him a while to realize that Rumil had stopped speaking. "This elf -- is she beautiful?" he asked, immediately regretting it. Rumil's mouth twisted.
"She is beautiful," he said simply. Draco's heart gave a painful little lurch in his chest.
"That still doesn't explain why you didn't -- " he began, and suddenly it dawned on him. Draco's eyes widened despite himself. "You're in love with her."
Rumil raised his hands with an expression of shock on his face, but Draco plowed on determinedly.
"You wanted me to entice Haldir away from his betrothed." Draco studied Rumil's face. "So you used me. Clever."
Rumil opened his mouth as if he wanted to protest, but dropped his hands and shook his head instead. "You are wise," he said dryly. "I cannot say anything in my defense. When you arrived, I saw how he looked at you. He knew you were beautiful." Rumil flashed a cheeky grin at him. "So did I. Were I not in love, I would have gone after you myself." He stopped, sighing and becoming melancholy again. "But I am in love, and to all appearances, my plan has failed." He scrubbed a hand through his hair and looked so pitiful that Draco felt an unfamiliar swell of sympathy. He couldn't honestly say that he wouldn't have done the same if he had been in Rumil's position.
But there was the matter of his pride. Pride dictated that he act like a Malfoy. Pride demanded that he not help his betrayer. Pride was what he had sacrificed when he'd fallen in love with Harry, and goddamn it, he would not do anything of the sort ever again.
He turned his head a bit to the side, curling his lip as if he'd seen something especially repulsive. He added a raised eyebrow for effect. "This is heartwrenching, truly, but I'm afraid that I don't think I can help you with your -- problem," he sneered, watching as Rumil's expression changed from sadness to shock. "Haldir was a momentary solution to my boredom. A distraction; nothing else. Nothing that I would be inclined to pursue further."
"What are you talking about, Draco?" Rumil asked incredulously. "I know you feel something for him, be it desire or fondness. Either, given time, can evolve into love. And I need your help."
"Touching. But this is not my problem." He turned to go with that parting blow, flicking his cloak behind him.
"This is your problem." Rumil's voice was icy. "Haldir is leaving to meet his fiancee at the Gray Havens in three days. You alone can find a way to keep him here. Whether you succeed or not, I will be leaving then. I would be greatly indebted to you if you somehow managed to persuade him to stay." His voice had changed from cold to pleading at the last. Draco ruthlessly suppressed a last wave of pity.
"I see. But I can find more worthy pursuits. I suggest you drop this subject." He gave a sickly sweet, serpent's smile to Rumil over his shoulder before stalking off, a strange pain in his chest.
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"Ai! Saes! S-saes!"
"I don't think I heard you, Legolas. Are you asking me for something?"
"Saes -- daro! Harry! Do not d-do this!"
"Tell me what I want to hear."
"Harry, I m-must not!"
Swish crack. A scream.
"Well, that's too bad, Legolas. Ah, well, I can't be too disappointed." Another crack, and a cry. "This is the most fun I've had in ages."
"Saes, mercy -- "
"No, I don't think so. Now, I want you to count."
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Draco slowed down once he turned the corner, pressing his back against the wall and leaning his head forward onto his chest. His middle felt hollow.
"Three days," he mumbled to himself. Strange how those two words could evoke such a sense of longing. But he would keep himself occupied. Keep himself from thinking of the beautiful elf, Haldir's fiancee, waiting at the Gray Havens. If she was as beautiful as Rumil had thought she was, no doubt Haldir was in love with her, after all. It -- hurt, in a way that only a few people had managed to hurt him, to think that he had only been pursuit -- a momentary distraction to Haldir's boredom, he thought with a curl to his lip. He'd had his fair share of those up until fifth year, and a good number after Harry, as well. He had never thought he would be on the receiving end of an illicit affair.
"Nice time for karma to finally bite me in the ass," he muttered, and a servant girl scurrying by him dropped her basket of laundry and cast a shocked look before hurrying about her duties twice as fast as before. He had to get his mind off of Haldir.
He used the simplest route that his mind had been traversing even before he'd begun worrying about Haldir. Harry was out there somewhere. Perhaps if he took the fastest horse -- but, no. He'd already told himself that rushing off on a fool's errand such as the one he was contemplating would simply not happen. Even if he was worried sick about Harry.
Somehow, he changed his mind in the space of time it took for him to get to Aragorn's room.
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"I can't hear you counting, Legolas. Must I start over?"
"No -- oh, g-gods, please -- f-fifteen --"
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Draco had to clear his throat twice before he finally caught Aragorn's attention.
"A search party," he demanded. "It's been a half a day. More than a half a day. Have you sent out a search party yet?"
Arwen and Aragorn exchanged looks. A nagging sense of suspicion grew in Draco's mind.
"Draco," Arwen started, and then stopped, shaking her head.
"What?"
Aragorn stepped forward, putting a gentle hand on Draco's shoulder. "We sent out a search party," he said softly. "Haldir insisted upon going. As soon as Legolas and Harry are found, Haldir plans on going directly to the Gray Havens to meet his fiancee. I am sorry."
Draco shrugged Aragorn's hand off his shoulder, feeling a bit like a petulant child. He had no doubt that he was pouting like one.
"I don't care," he said sullenly. His mind was racing, trying to think of a way to catch up to Haldir, even as he acknowledged in the back of his mind that it was near impossible.
"Draco," Arwen said again, carefully. "Would you mind terribly if we sent you out looking for Harry and Legolas, as well? We could use your powers in the search, if Harry is truly acting as you said he was."
Draco smiled at her, surprisingly genuine despite himself. He knew what she was doing. She sent him a small smile in return.
"I would be honored."
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For a long, long moment Legolas could not think of anything but that the pain had stopped coming.
Then the feeling returned to his body and he had to stifle a cry. He was on fire -- the backs of his legs, his backs, his arms. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to exist. He stared down to where blood had run down his back and legs, gathering in a red pool on the ground beneath his feet. His tunic was damp with sweat and blood and hanging off him in shreds.
He must have stopped screaming at some point, but he couldn't remember when.
He almost couldn't remember when Harry had untied his hands from behind his back, only to drag him between two trees and tie him there instead, one arm to each tree. He hung there now, his legs unable to keep him standing.
He became aware of the noises he was making. Pitiful, whimpering cries and sobbing breaths. The slow trickle of blood down his body was agonizing. Gods, but he wanted to die.
"Look at me, Legolas." There were fingers beneath his chin, forcing his head up so that he could look into Harry's cold eyes. Harry's hand cupped his cheek with false sympathy, an amused smile on his face. "Now, are you going to tell me? I can continue this, if you would like. I do not need you to be able to stand for you to lead me to the Gray Havens." His hand gently caressed Legolas's skin. There were tiny drops of blood splattered across Harry's left cheek.
"Please --"
Legolas's voice was hoarse from hours of screaming, his mouth filled with foamy blood from where he'd bitten his lips and tongue to shreds to keep silent. He writhed in his bonds slightly. Even that slight motion caused his abused muscles to scream in protest.
Harry's eyes narrowed. "You will take me there."
Legolas's eyes drifted despite himself to the bloody branch in Harry's left hand. Harry saw him and grinned, raising an eyebrow.
"I take it you do not wish for me to continue," he said, sympathetic, his thumb rubbing away the blood leaking from the corner of Legolas's mouth. "Say you will take me to the Gray Havens and I will release you."
"I will -- I will do anything you ask of me," he said between sobs, voice cracking with the intensity of his desire to be free. He meant every word. Gods -- he'd never known pain like that had existed.
Harry's smile turned satisfied. "Very nice," he said, leaning closer until his nose was nearly touching Legolas's own. "Now, give me a kiss."
Trembling, Legolas managed to press his lips softly to Harry's own, neither responding nor fighting when Harry coaxed his mouth open. He convulsed violently against his bonds, his sharp cry swallowed by Harry's mouth, when Harry slid his arms around him and pressed them to Legolas's bloody back.
Finally Harry pulled away, smiling, Legolas's blood on his lips and staining his teeth. "Say you love me," he chided gently.
Legolas twisted his arms in the ropes binding him to the trees. "I love you," he said dully. Harry's smile grew expectant, and somehow, Legolas knew what he wanted. "My lord."
"Very prettily said." The bonds on his arms were untied and he collapsed to the ground, boneless, pain shooting through his body. He looked up to Harry through vision blurred with tears that he had somehow managed to not shed.
"Why?" he whimpered, voice breaking. Harry bent down and laid a hand on Legolas's hair, smoothing the sweaty strands away from his face, smirking when Legolas flinched back.
"Oh, Legolas," Harry sighed, fingering the braid hanging next to Legolas's ear. "Do you see how easy this would have been if you had just simply agreed in the first place?" He leaned down close again, his breath puffing gently on Legolas's face. "Does it hurt?" he whispered against Legolas's ear.
Legolas clenched his lips shut and turned his head to one side. Harry's eyes turned cold.
"I thought you learned your lesson, Legolas," he hissed, dragging his fingernails up Legolas's back, smiling at Legolas's scream. Legolas watched through blurry vision as Harry brought his hand up, inspecting the blood beneath his fingernails. "Answer me. Does it?"
"Yes," Legolas gasped desperately, nodding weakly, bringing a hand up to wipe away the sweat that was threatening to drip into his face. He closed his eyes.
"Good." Harry's expression turned pleased. He wiped the blood from his hand off in Legolas's hair. "Then cry for me, Legolas."
Legolas bit his lip, feeling tears sting his closed eyelids, and he forced himself not to cry. But when Harry touched his cheek gently, his resolve broke and the tears came, dissolving into pleading, whimpering cries.
"Manka lle merna, herunya," he managed to whisper between sobs that shook his entire body. The hand that stroked his hair with false comfort somehow only coaxed more tears. He buried his head in his hands and drew a deep shuddering breath.
"None of that, now, Legolas," Harry said, prying Legolas's hands away from his face. He tilted Legolas's face up with a hand under his chin. "You are doing so well. Now, point me the way to the Gray Havens. And please don't pretend you don't know. I am quite familiar with the elvish sense of direction."
Legolas lifted a bloodied, shaking hand and pointed it vaguely off to his right. Harry smiled, pleased, and Legolas felt a shock of longing.
It made it worse, in a way, to know that he still loved Harry -- that even though Harry had blood speckling his face and coldness in his eyes, he was still beautiful, and Legolas could not separate this Harry from the one that he had gone to Valinor to save.
"Thank you, Legolas." The repeated use of his name sounded patronizing. He didn't have the energy to care. "Do you need help getting on the horse?"
"No," Legolas snapped, but he had to use the tree truck to pull himself to his feet. The thought of Harry's hands on his body, even to help him, terrified him beyond rational thinking. It took him three tries to get on Arod's back, even when Arod bent his knees to help him. And then Harry climbed on in front of him.
"Hold on," Harry said softly. Legolas cringed, steeled himself, and carefully wrapped his arms around Harry's waist. Harry laughed and clicked his tongue, the wind ruffling his hair into Legolas's face. Legolas inhaled sharply when the horse started off, the tatters of his tunic rubbing gently against his raw back, and somehow through the wind he managed to catch the faint scent of lye soap and Harry's familiar scent. He leaned his forehead on Harry's back and let the pleasantness of unconsciousness take him away from his wounds and Harry and strangely alluring thoughts of death.
_________________________
Saes -- please
Manka lle merna -- as you wish
Herunya -- my lord
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A/N: Uh. Yes, well, so it's violent and nasty. Would it be bad if I said that it was sort of fun to write it?
And you guys did so wonderfully wonderful last time with the reviews -- keep it up! I adored it beyond the measure of earthly adoration. Seriously. Plus, today is my birthday! *squee!* Recieved, among other things, the Galadriel ring from the Noble Collection, which I shall add to my One Ring, Ring of Barahir, and Elven Necklace. *dies*