Title: Enchain
Author: Pentangle
WARNING: Child abuse. Torture. Warning is now in force!
/thoughts/
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Chapter 7 Estel
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Elrond's eyes were fixed on the door and he stopped breathing when his son was carried through it. Estel hung limply over Valendil's shoulder, arms flopping and head lolling in its black velvet covering. Valendil paused before the elf lord to savor his fear.
"Do not concern yourself. Yet. He is merely a little short of air. If I hurry, perhaps he will recover." He carried Estel to the wall that Elrond faced and placed the boy's body against it with his back to his captor. Valendil leaned in to hold Estel's body upright with his own while he shackled his wrists with iron cuffs that were fastened there. Unlike Elrond, Estel's arms were held out to the side and flat against the stone wall. Valendil pulled the hood from Estel's head and, to make him more comfortable, turned his head so that his cheek lay against the stone. He stroked the tangled hair and then tapped the cheek lightly. "Wake up, pen neth."
Estel quickly returned to consciousness. He grasped at once his changed circumstances and tried desperately to see his father from the corner of his eye. "Ada – "
Elrond spoke quickly, afraid he would not be allowed to do what little he could for his son. "I am here, ion nin. Listen to me: I love you, Estel. Whatever happens, you know this. We will be rescued—Glorfindel and your brothers will find us." Then he turned his attention to their captor. "Valendil, please do not hurt my son. I beg you! I will kiss your feet. I will place my neck beneath your heel. I will give you anything I possess! Please…"
Valendil came to stand before him and smiled with satisfaction. "Ah, now you begin to pay in coin that matters. All the pain I dealt you could not touch you so much as one stroke placed upon this human. Now I will have my vengeance upon you—through him."
Elrond began to plead again but Estel broke in. "Ada, he was hurt by – Maedhros? when he was my age. He thinks you took Maglor from him, who was his protector. Ada, he…he was hurt very badly, for a long time." While Elrond's mind grappled with this incredible information, trying to remember the youth Valendil had been, Estel spoke to the white-haired elf "I am sorry, so sorry for what happened to you. If you had not hurt my father I would have tried to help you—befriend you." /But now I will kill you./
"I believe you would, boy. You are even more of a fool than I was. You see, half-elven, how tender are the young? So, too, was I when you stole my lord from me."
"Elros and I had only just lost our mother and all who lived in Sirion! My brother and I were too shocked and frightened to notice the pain of others! I am sorry for that; three children in such a place should have been friends and helped each other. But Valendil, how can you do to another child what was done to you! Please, let me continue to pay for your pain with my body. I am the one to blame, not Estel! I will devise you new torments to use upon me, please…please, Valendil!"
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Elrohir leaned against the door, his arms wrapped tightly around himself in grief and rage. He kept his ear against the door as he had been bid; it was all he could do to help for now. His fingers bit so deeply into his sides that he bled unknowing. With the insulating stone and wood between them he could not tell: was that his brother, his father, or both, who cried out so piteously?
So lost was Elrohir in the nightmare beyond his pointed ear that he jumped a foot when Erestor put a hand on his shoulder. He snatched at Erestor's plait and pulled him forcibly down to hear for himself what was happening inside the springhouse. The elder elf stilled and then looked at Elrohir with understanding eyes. Erestor grasped the twin by the arm and pulled him away, signaling for him to follow silently as before. When he judged they had gone far enough Erestor began to run like a deer and Elrohir stumbled after him, his mind caught in the hideous vision his imagination had conjured up.
They ran unheeding of noise or the tearing claws of branches and brambles. When they came to the meeting place at the bridge, Erestor slid smoothly to a halt but Elrohir was caught up by Elladan as he staggered into the open.
A soggy Glorfindel met Erestor's eyes and grinned. "I knew you would find them! At the springhouse?"
"Yes, but we must hurry. They are being tormented by that lunatic."
Glorfindel swore but was too experienced to waste time on emotion that could be put to better use. "Taurnil stands ready, though he does not know why. Shall I summon him and his company?"
"No. The four of us will be best. He is surely mad; we must take him unaware. If he sees or hears us he will kill them, or at the least we must assume that he will."
"Then lead on. Elladan, is your brother fit to go?"
Elladan looked at Glorfindel over the head of his twin that rested on his shoulder and nodded, but Elrohir straightened up, eyes streaming, and answered fiercely for himself "There is no force that could keep me from being a part of their rescue. Let us go!"
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When the blade first touched him, Estel could not help jerking in reaction, try as he might. Valendil reached out his other hand and smoothed soothing strokes on the boy's back. "Shhhhh, not yet, not yet. I will tell you before I hurt you. Now you must be still or I will hurt you, through your own thrashing about." He put the tip of the dagger against the sleeve of Estel's shirt at his wrist and slowly drew it through the material all the way to the neckline. The material parted smoothly before the keen edge and fell away from Estel's arm. Valendil cut away the other sleeve and then drew the dagger in a long sweep down the back and the shirt fell to the floor. Estel now stood in leggings and boots just as his father did.
Valendil next picked up his spear shaft and a smith's hammer that he had placed by the wall. He began beating the links of the chain on the floor. He struck again and again at a distance of four feet from the shaft attachment. He beat until he had severed the chain in two. He then carried it, gently swinging, to show to Elrond. "He is fastened too close to the wall to get the best effect of the full length. This shortened piece will serve much better."
Elrond was hoarse from begging but whispered one last time, "Please, I implore you, do not do this." He received no response. When Valendil turned to Estel, twirling the spear shaft so that the chain rattled and sang, Elrond spoke again to his son.
"They will come, ion nin. Your task is simple; you endure until they do. You can do this, Estel. You must hold on; they will come. Cry out—it will help a little. Do not try to remain silent thinking it will make me proud."
Valendil smirked. "How…maudlin. How do feel about this half-elven now, boy? The mighty elf lord, famed in song and story, begs like a dog that fawns on the master who beats it. He would cut off his own sword arm if I commanded it!"
Estel replied proudly and defiantly, "Yes, he would. To save me, he would. You think him weak? If I were Morgoth himself I would quake before the power of his love. You may beat us both to death but you cannot stop him loving me. He gives me freely what Maglor –"
Elrond gasped, "Estel! NO!"
"- did not give you, or he would never have left you to his brother's tender mercies!"
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Glorfindel gave his instructions to his small company. "Erestor, you and Elrohir will force the door. It cannot be locked from the inside so he may have barricaded it. Try to move it one hair's breadth at a time. Erestor will go within as soon as there is enough of an opening. Elladan, find a tree that gives you a clear shot at the doorway and keep an arrow nocked." Elladan nodded tensely. "You will aim to kill so have a care who you are shooting at. Do not wait for my signal. If you get a shot at him, take it. I will be at the door with Elrohir."
"You will not go in first?" Elladan had complete faith in Glorfindel's skills, but he had never known Erestor as a warrior. The black-haired elf standing next to Glorfindel grinned wolfishly at him and dark knowledge shone in his eyes. Elladan shuddered and was silent.
The party moved the short distance to the springhouse and took up their positions. Erestor put his ear against the door and listened intently. He motioned to Elrohir who knelt and placed both hands flat on the door about two feet above the ground. The younger elf pressed carefully, so carefully on the door and at first nothing happened. Then he felt a quiver in the wood and the door moved ever so slightly. Erestor cut the movement with another gesture and listened again for a long time. He motioned Elrohir to continue. To Elladan, standing braced with his string hand pulled half-way to his ear and keeping his eyes firmly fixed at what would be chest height, it seemed no one was doing anything at all. The tiny movement of the door was too slight even for elven eyes to see. His right arm began to quiver with strain so he switched his hold and again the bowstring drew back.
There was now a two-inch gap between the door and its jam and Erestor pushed his long fingers within to feel for obstructions. It seemed there was nothing piled before the door but he did not motion for more speed from Elrohir—old doors often protested being opened with grating shrieks. At long last a gap of six or seven inches gave them a look into the room. There was a faint glimmer of torchlight; the torch must be in another room, not the large one with the water channels. Erestor moved silently to Glorfindel who stood with sword and dagger in hand, and made signals before his eyes. The golden elf nodded and Erestor pulled a tiny jar from inside his tunic. He opened it and gave the lid into Elrohir's keeping. He dipped his fingers into the paste within and began to blacken his face. Elrohir took the jar and finished the face and neck for him while Erestor covered his hands. When he was finished and he closed his eyes, he seemed to disappear. He removed his knives and sword and their scabbards, keeping only a boot dagger. He then began to sidle through the doorway, inching carefully, pulling his chest and stomach against his spine. The twins watched in amazement as the staid counselor slid eel-like into the largest room in the springhouse. Elrohir made as if to follow but Glorfindel's iron hand caught his arm. He signed for the younger elf to take up a position opposite him and to draw his sword. They would wait until Erestor signaled them to join him.
Once inside the room Erestor listened again, holding his breath. He heard a continuous gurgle of water but nothing more. Then he began to creep, crouching, around the perimeter of the room, one hand on the wall, the other holding his dagger. He moved swiftly, smoothly, and absolutely silently, like a spider. Now that he was further within the springhouse he could hear voices, though fortunately just speaking at the moment. He came to the first water channel and reached down to feel its depth. It was about 18 inches wide and 18 deep. Water flowed still, even after all this time. He stepped across and encountered one more before he came to the far wall. He turned and moved along it, finding an empty room at once, its door hanging off one hinge. He passed it by and came next to the room in which Estel had been kept. There was a torch on the wall and Erestor glanced within, seeing the shackles, cut cloth bindings, and other signs of habitation.
There was only one room left and the voices became louder as Erestor crept even more carefully along. He waited, crouched into a very small, dull black shadow against the wall. He listened to see who was in the room and was rewarded by hearing both Elrond and Estel. It sounded as though Elrond had been having a rough time but that he could speak at all caused relief to wash over his chief councilor. Estel sounded much stronger and that was not to be discounted. The boy had quick wits and was already a fighter to be reckoned with, though as yet he had only sparred while training.
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As Estel's words rang in the small cell, Valendil swayed and lost what little color he had ever had in his cheeks. A minute later, though, color blazed as he shook with rage. He forgot his promise to warn Estel and struck hard. As his father's had before him, Estel's eyes flew open and he was unable to breathe. Blazing fire across his back showed him instantly that even his recent experiences bringing a wounded Legolas to Imladris had not taught him all there was to know about pain.
Elrond had closed his eyes when Valendil's arm drew back. He called himself ten kinds of coward but he simply could not watch the chain strike his child. But closed eyes could not lock out the sound the chain made as it struck the tender skin and inexperienced body of his son again and again. At first Estel made no sound save a ragged breath when he was able to snatch one. In spite of his father's words he did not want to appear weak before Elrond. But he was too untried in such horrors to remain silent long and soon whimpers and then full-throated cries were torn from him. The rhythm of his cries would seem odd to those familiar with the ways of torment. For when the chain struck, there was no sound but the chain itself, since without breath there can be no voice. But between strokes the boy sobbed and begged someone, anyone, to stop his agony. Although he hated himself for it, the one he begged most was his father. Elrond made no sound himself, though tears poured down his cheeks as he felt as if his heart was torn, beating, from his chest.
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Erestor heard the chain strike Estel and kept a tight rein on his emotions. The fact was, the boy would survive even a severe flogging and that was the priority right now: survival for both Elrond and his son. There was no point in waiting longer here; he knew what he needed to know, so he lifted a little from his crouch and began to make his way back to the others. He heard more blows connect and Estel crying out and perhaps he was not quite as controlled as he believed he was, for his foot struck a piece of metal—a chisel left from when the building was kept in repair. It rang against the stone wall and Erestor froze, looking quickly about. There was not so much as an old broken urn to hide behind.
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Valendil froze as a faint sound came to his ear. He listened but all he heard was Estel's ragged breathing and moans. His nerves were beginning to betray him and he had to make sure all was safe. He darted to the doorway and peered out in the large room. He came back and grabbed a torch and went out through the door. Even elf eyes had trouble seeing in the cave-like blackness of the springhouse and he walked about with the flickering torch held high. He went into the other small rooms and a little way into the main room. He saw nothing but pooled water and stone and at last turned and went back to his amusements.
In the main room of the springhouse, Erestor saw spots dancing before his eyes. He could wait no longer. He slowly turned his head sideways and lifted it a little out of the water. He breathed deeply for a few minutes, then, having seen the torch was gone, began to rise out of the channel he had been lying in. His shoulders left skin behind for he was very tightly wedged in the narrow space. He moved slowly so as not to cause a splash and stood still, letting the water drain from his hair and clothes before climbing from what had been too closely shaped like a coffin for his comfort. He then began to make his way to Glorfindel and the twins.
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When Valendil left the room to search out the reason for the noise, Elrond tried to comfort his son. With great effort he maintained the quiet, steady tone that had meant safety and security to the boy since his earliest years.
"Estel, I know how much you are hurting but you will survive this, even though it does not seem possible. Think as hard as you can about something wonderful. Do you remember when you and Legolas trained Sadoreth? Tell me again how you felt when you rode him for the first time."
The boy answered in a whisper, feeling years younger than the almost-warrior he was. "Ada…Ada, it hurts! I am on fire, how can I bear it!"
"Shhh, I know. I know, my heart. Tell me of you and Sadoreth. Do it now!" The stern command brought automatic obedience. Falteringly the boy recounted a story told a hundred times.
"Legolas helped me to climb up as gently as I could. Then he led him around and Sadoreth walked so stiffly. He did not know how to carry me."
In spite of the pain the familiar details of a wondrous day began to focus his mind. His skin continued to blaze with sharp fizzing jolts but it faded just a little into the background.
"Yes! Go on! Think of the sounds and smells, how warm the sun was and how blue Legolas' eyes when he laughed. Make it as real as you can."
"It was a most beautiful day; it was warm enough that I took off my tunic. And Legolas' eyes get darker when he laughs. He can be so merry. Sadoreth's nose was like the softest velvet and his coat like silk. I – Ada, he comes!" Estel broke off fearfully as Valendil came back into the room.
Elrond ignored the elf that he would like to rend limb from limb, healer or no. "You have your memory, Estel. Use it to build a wall between yourself and the worst of the pain." He paused, watching Valendil. He would stop the elf from hurting his son again. Perhaps he could goad the elf into turning to him. He thought for a moment and then spoke.
"I have not lied. They will come for us. They must be close now. Your only hope for mercy is to stop harming my son."
"Your son! He is not your son! Why do you care for him at all? He is Engwar! Although you are yourself polluted so it is perhaps not so surprising."
Elrond smiled. He saw his path. "That is true, Valendil. I am half-elven, as you have said. You must have wondered why he should care for us."
"YES! You are not even Moriquendi! How could he look on you without disgust! Why did he turn from me; I am Calaquendi!"
"And yet he did. He held us tightly and sang to us when we could not sleep. He whispered soothingly and kept his brother far from us." Elrond swallowed as Valendil whimpered; he was not looking forward to the consequences of his words. "He loved us, Valendil. He loved me. He never mentioned you, ever. But he whispered to me, 'Do not fear, little one." Elrond created dangerous words in as close an imitation as long dimmed memory would allow. "You are safe, my Elrond. I will keep you from harm. Do not weep; I will keep you safe…safe from my brother."
Valendil wailed and snatched at the spear shaft on the floor. He began to beat Elrond furiously, not pausing to increase Elrond's pain or his own enjoyment. He screamed in a high-pitched voice, making meaningless sounds.
Outside the door, Glofindel and Erestor knew the moment had come and burst into the room, Erestor hurling his dagger as he threw himself sideways close to the ground. Glorfindel leapt through in the other direction and in one stride had placed his body and blade between Estel and further harm. Erestor's poniard sank deep into Valendil's back a few inches below the right shoulder and the elf spun around, eyes wide with astonishment. He stood absolutely still, then abruptly sank to his knees. When they made sudden, jarring contact with the floor, Valendil screamed from the vibration of the blade. He struggled to stay upright but by degrees sank to lie prone on the floor. Scarlet bubbled at one side of his mouth as his lung began to fill.
When Glorfindel saw that Valendil was still and likely to remain so, he began to work his knife in the latchings of the cuffs around the boy's wrists. Erestor went to his lord but the elf groaned, "See to Estel!"
Erestor obeyed and caught the shaking body as Glorfindel freed one arm. The golden warrior quickly broke the catch on the other cuff and Estel fell back into Erestor's hold. Elrond breathed a heartfelt prayer of gratitude as his son was laid on the floor. Glorfindel questioned Estel while placing a hand on the boy's throat to feel the rhythm and strength of his pulse, "Are you all right, pen neth? Have you other injuries than these welts?"
Estel, nearly swooning with relief, pain, and the end of fear whispered, "Get Ada down! Please, I am fine, help Ada!"
Erestor and Glorfindel turned to release Elrond, which was a far more complicated matter. As they eased the tension on the stretched arms, Elrond saw Estel crawl slowly to Valendil and feel his pulse. Mistaking the boy's motivation, Elrond asked, "Does he yet live?"
Estel looked up and said quietly, "Yes." /But not for long/
At that moment Elrond's attention was diverted as his marshal began to unwind the bindings on his wrists. Erestor supported his lord from behind and heard and felt the hissing breath as the mauled wrists were exposed. Their attention thus focused the three did not see Estel slowly pull the white-haired elf's belt dagger.
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End chapter 7 of 9
Engwar: "the sickly", mankind
Moriqundi: Dark elves (their kindred never returned to Valinor at the time of the Great Journey)
Caliquendi: Elves of the Light (light of the Two Trees) they did return to Valinor (though of course some left again and then…well, just go read the Sil if you haven't already. :-)