Title: Enchain
Author: Pentangle
WARNING: Child abuse. Torture.
Italics: flashbacks
/thoughts/
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Chapter 5 Pain
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Elrond had nearly broken down when he heard the voice of his son; the boy was well enough to give a ringing shout and relief shook the elf's control. After a time he mastered himself and began, as Estel had, to piece together the information his captor had given him. He was sure now that the elf was Valendil for as the time wore on he had allowed his voice to rise from the whisper with which he had greeted Elrond. The prison was not some dark, dank dungeon, though dark and dank it was. They were in an abandoned spring house, used in times past when Imladris had been home to many more elves than currently. It was basically a square stone building with one large room and three or four small, lockable rooms opening from it. In the large room there were four channels cut in the floor and running from one side to the other. The building had been built next to a spring and the cold water was run through the channels and exited on the other side. The thick stone floors and walls held the cold and milk, butter, eggs, and other perishables were kept there in days gone by. Elrond had known at once when given the water, for the spring had a distinctive metallic taste. The abandoned spring house was only a few miles from the main house, though the path to it was long overgrown as was the springhouse itself. Valendil had not idled away his free time if he had found this place that was forgotten by everyone. Now how to use this information to get Estel away and safe? He forced himself to rest through calming exercises but sleep was as far from him as it was for his son. The hours wore on.
Suddenly Elrond heard cries from the next room, too muffled and confusing for him to know who made them. He began to try to free his hands, letting the chains rattle for as long as he heard the noise he used as cover for his own.
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"I cannot believe we have lost them again!" Elrohir's voice shook with anger and fear.
Glorfindel nodded grimly, "He had the sense to take them the way the troops return from the first night patrol and the tracks are obliterated. Since we have lost them for now, we will go to Erestor."
"Erestor? Where did he go?"
"He has been searching the archives. He will have found the most likely places to take them. No one knows more about Imladris than he. Hopefully he has finished by now."
Collecting Elladan on the way, Glorfindel and Elrohir hurried to Erestor's private study. Glorfindel knocked and a voice called, "Come!" The twins stopped short just inside the doorway and stared in amazement. Erestor stood behind his desk, hands flat on the top on either side of a parchment. Around his desk, nearly as high as its surface, were drifts of paper. The normally tidy room was awash in overturned furniture, piles of books, and parchment tubes.
The First Counselor looked up and said curtly, "Good, I was about to go and find you. I have narrowed the possibilities to three considering the distance he could possibly have taken them." He bent to the side of the desk, snatched at the parchment that came first to his hand, and ripped it roughly across. The twins goggled at this flagrant disregard of his every guiding principle. They were also astounded at his aspect and manner. The smooth councilor, both in appearance and word, had been transformed. He stood in black leggings and snug fitting tunic which was also a dull black. His hair, which the twins had never seen other than loose or with a single clasp to keep it from falling into his face, was braided in a single plait down his back and so tightly pulled back that his eyes had an exotic look. He wore very soft black boots and enough armament for two elves. His eyes had a predatory gleam and his words were clipped and brief. Unlike Elladan and Elrohir, Glorfindel was not flummoxed by what he saw but rather, encouraged. He had seen this sight before and knew that Erestor's unique skills would be employed to find their lord.
Erestor drawled, "I suggest you close your mouths." Elladan and Elrohir snapped their jaws shut.
Erestor started drawing quickly and crudely on the first piece of parchment. "One possibility is the old watch tower a half-mile south of the cliff path. It has subterranean storage and has not been used since the new tower was completed. It is quite a distance, the farthest of the three, and there is, of course, foot and horse traffic that passes quite close. However, prisoners could be kept there if they were unconscious or gagged. Elladan, you will search this candidate."
Elladan took the parchment and nodded. Erestor cautioned, "Do not take any action unless their deaths are imminent." Elladan swallowed hard. "We will all meet in two hours by the bridge to report. You will have to travel fast to get there and back in time." He stared for a moment at the elder twin and then snapped, "Elladan, why do I still see you?" His former student wrenched his eyes from the transformed councilor and ran from the room.
"Elrohir, you are with me. We will take the spring house; I believe it is the most likely place. Glorfindel, search the bridge supports downriver at Three Hinds Crossing. There are small grates below water level that will let you into the hollow chambers there. It would take a desperate person to try to get prisoners through that way, but it is possible."
Glorfindel snatched the parchment thrust in his direction, nodded, and tossed over his shoulder as he left the room, "The bridge in two hours."
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Estel cried out as the blade cut into his side. Valendil had been moaning and whimpering in his sleep and had begun moving restlessly. One of those movements pushed the dagger into Estel just a little. Valendil lunged away at Estel's noise and for a few moments chaos reigned as Valendil threatened Estel for trying to hurt him or escape and Estel tried to shout him down and tell him that it was Valendil who had instigated the ruckus. The elf finally noticed the small spreading stain on Estel's shirt and calmed down. Surprisingly, he apologized.
"I am sorry, boy. I have…bad dreams."
Estel watched his face carefully. "About what happened to you when you were young? I am sorry that you were hurt, Valendil."
The elf stared at him in amazement which turned to anger. "Do not!" he hissed. "Do not think to soften me! I have brought your father here to make him pay for what he did! And he will pay best when he watches you in torment!"
Now Estel was furious in turn. "My father never laid a hand on you or yours or caused anyone any hurt in his life! How dare you accuse him! I am sorry you suffered but you have the wrong elf! By the Valar, you have the wrong elf!"
Valendil squatted next to Estel and spoke with a dangerous light in his eyes though his voice was controlled. "Nay, I have the right one indeed. Listen….We were all moving about, living in tents, for nearly every hand was against my lord and his brother. They were hated by many and could find no succor. Those who were loyal to them—to my lord and his brother—lived hard and hungry in those days. My lord's brother was embittered for everywhere he looked he saw treachery. He was never kind, but he grew worse as we lived rough, within a few leagues of where his desire rested, wrongfully kept from him. Many of his own, including my lord, tried to get him to renounce his oath and try to gain a little peace somewhere far away from that place. He was even more angered by this and his hand, always heavy and quick to deal punishment, became impossible to bear. I was an orphan in the company, of no family worthy enough to provide some protection through my name. But my lord, my dear lord, took me into his service as a page and I knew warmth and kindness. He stayed his brother's hand or cared for me when he had been away from the camp and there were none to stand between his brother and me." Suddenly Valendil reared upright, pointing with a shaking hand at the wall that stood between him and Elrond, sobbing in rage.
"And Elrond and Elros stole him from me! Maglor hardly looked to me once they came! His brother was even worse after losing the cursed stone yet again, but I had lost my protector. Nay, not LOST. He was stolen! Stolen! He was MINE! The only one who ever…who ever…" Valendil collapsed in a heap, crying piteously.
Estel stared, appalled at the tale he had been told. He had never been struck in anger in his life. He tried to imagine his father (whose anger he had always thought very terrible and awe inspiring) striking him and knocking him to the floor. He, too, had been an orphan but there had never been a day he had not been cared for and nurtured. He had known grief and hardship, but never alone, never hungry, never frightened because those who were in charge of him were a danger to his body and spirit. Estel had also become even more frightened than when he had first awoken here. For now that he knew what drove this tragic elf he understood just how much danger his father was in.
After a long while, Valendil got to his feet. He was now very calm. "I have rested long enough. I know that Elrond's sons are trying hard to find you. It is only a matter of time before they succeed. I had best see to breaking the peredhil." He left the room without another word.
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Elrohir and Erestor took to the trees to approach the springhouse. The ground cover was too dense for an approach both quick and quiet, with brambles and trees filling in the old road that had led there, as well as the area surrounding the spring. Erestor kept an eye out for traces that Valendil had carried his captives this way but was not disappointed when he found none; there were a thousand different paths to take through the trees. Elrohir questioned his conclusion. "Erestor, how could Valendil have carried them; he is not strong enough!"
"Keep your voice down! He is not as strong as most, no, but how strong does he have to be to carry Estel or your father? He is still an elf, after all, pathetic though he may be." They continued on until Erestor suddenly disappeared before Elrohir's eyes as he simply dropped straight down through the tree and landed catlike on the ground. The younger elf's amazement concerning his one-time tutor continued to grow. Erestor had some explaining to do when all were safe in the Last Homely House again! He joined the other elf by a more cautious route and Erestor gripped his arm tightly. He placed his mouth against Elrohir's ear and spoke in a very low and quiet tone. He did not whisper as the sibilance would carry too far.
"We are about a quarter mile away. Follow me and make no sound. No sound, Elrohir! Snap no twig; breathe through your nose. Place your feet as I do. When I stop again we must use hand signals. I want you to listen at the door. Listen only; take no action. I will scout around the perimeter and come back to you. Elrohir – " He paused, unsure how much to say. Although he did not know the specific motive that caused Valendil to steal away the lord of Imladris, it was obvious that more was wanted than two lives. Death could have been dealt a hundred times over; Valendil had had easy access to Elrond and his son. And he, Elladan, and Glorfindel had personal experience with the directions this elf's imagination could take. If he said nothing, Elrohir could ruin all in his fear and rage. He placed an arm around the younger elf's shoulders to try to soften what must be said. "You must wait for me by the door and make no sound, regardless of what you hear. Regardless of what you hear. Do you understand me?"
Elrohir was secretly the favorite of the austere councilor. Erestor appreciated his keen and intuitive intelligence and sensitive nature. Elrohir demonstrated both when he began to tremble as his mind filled in the gaps in Erestor's careful statement. But the presence of the councilor steadied him and he turned his head and spoke in the same soft voice Erestor used. "I do understand. I will not do something foolish and risk greater harm."
Erestor squeezed Elrohir's shoulder and then moved away, as silently as a ghost. When the springhouse came in sight Erestor signed a halt. Then he stood and listened and watched. Elrohir first emulated him, then began to be impatient as the older elf stayed still as a statue for long, long minutes. When he was satisfied they would not be seen, he crept forward. Elrohir followed as well as he could though he seemed to be following a large, black snake that flowed over and around the obstacles in their path fluidly and silently. He had trained for many years as a warrior, but it apparently he did not yet know all there was to know about moving invisibly through enemy territory. Together they came to the stout double doors wide enough to allow a large cart or truck between them. Erestor pantomimed putting his head to the door and Elrohir nodded. The councilor then melted away like a shadow. The son of Elrond placed his ear firmly against the door and listened with every fiber of his being.
Erestor silently circled the building, stopping every twenty feet or so to listen intently, ear to the stone walls. As he had known—but it had to be confirmed—there were no windows and no other doors. He used a vine to climb to the roof but found treacherous broken slates that would crash noisily to the ground at the slightest pressure of hand or foot. At the side opposite the door he discovered the stone covered channels that carried the water to where it disappeared under the walls. The holes in the wall were too small for anything but a good-sized rat to use. He continued on around the building.
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Valendil strode into Elrond's room and went to the wall. Turning the ratchet wheel vigorously he hauled the elf lord to his feet and again raised his hands high overhead. Valendil made no comment about the blood that ran slowly down the stretched arms as a result of Elrond's attempts to free his hands or the fact that the blindfold had been removed. He grasped the spear-shaft and spun the chain across the floor. It crackled and hissed as he worked it back and forth against the stone. Then he whirled completely around and struck at Elrond with far more force than he had used the day before.
The chain curled now with the speed of an arrow's flight. Twice around the elf lord's chest. Elrond grunted as he saw blinding flashes before his eyes. The pain which had seemed intense the day before now appeared as a gentle caress. When he was able he drew shuddering breaths. He sweated though he was cold. He prayed.
It took three more strokes, delivered the same way, to force a groan from between bitten lips. Two more and Elrond cried out short and sharp, not yet a scream. Valendil leaned against the wall, chest heaving from the exertion of delivering such vicious blows. If Elrond did not scream soon, he was not sure he would have the stamina to make him do so. Deliberately he raked over his memories, relived his own worst pain, remembered again how Maglor had held a laughing Elrond over his head before swinging him down to the ground. Valendil had hated Elros, too, but the brother had escaped into mortality before he could work his vengeance; Elrond had to pay for two.
His hatred refreshed and giving dark and frenzied life to his body, Valendil continued. Stroke after stroke until finally, finally, a scream from the elf lord. The spear shaft clattered to the floor and Valendil laughed through gasping breaths. "Because you are weak, your human fosterling will now complete your payment."
He brings it on himself, brother! He is wicked and disobedient! If he would bear his punishment as an elf and not a cur he would not be dealt so much! His cries infuriated me; he has the remedy—he has only to keep his mouth shut and take what he has earned with decent self-control. Ah, leave be! You surely would not let this nothing come between us?
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In the next room, Estel sobbed and struggled as his father was flogged again. When his father screamed Estel shrieked like a savage. Valendil entered to find the boy hunched and rocking. Estel raised his head and said through clenched teeth, "I will kill you! I swear it, I will kill you!"
The white-haired elf was elated at having forced a scream from Elrond and smiled at Estel. "I misdoubt at your age you have killed anything other than a rabbit or mayhap a deer. An elf is something else altogether, boy!"
White-faced and shaking with fury, Estel replied, "Yes, but still I will kill you. A fitting entry into manhood—to kill my father's torturer!"
Valendil paused in his advance across the cell, so fierce was the glare from the silver eyes. Then he shook himself; this was just a human child. "You will not be in any condition for such pursuits in a short time." He carried a cloth bag in his hand and squatted down yet again by Estel and quickly tugged the bag over his head. Estel fought like a wild thing but was too tightly bound to avoid the soft and smothering folds. Valendil sat back, hesitating, and then pulled the material tight around the boy's face. It was like holding on to a trapped badger as Estel fought to bite him through the cloth. After some minutes, though, Estel's struggles grew less and finally stopped completely. Quickly cutting the limp form free, Valendil carried him to the cell that held Elrond.
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End Chapter 5
A/N Ok, I know some of you are angry about Maedros and Maglor but I needed somebody to be the villains and for this plot it was either them or Cirdan, and I can't buy Cirdan as an abuser.