It was late at night but Elaenar couldn't sleep, so instead he got up and went to the common area. There was a fire dwindling in the fireplace, just enough light to write a letter. He stared blankly at the parchment with a quill in his hand. Elaenar never knew what to say in these letters; military life was usually so boring and uneventful. But he hadn't written a letter home in a long time and he needed to write. He supposed that he could tell his family about the recent events; wiping out the orc camp and the impending siege at Barad Mendolin. He omitted any mention of the orc prisoner, although he almost included that in his letter too.
In his typical fashion he wrote a stiffly-worded letter about new developments on the front, advised that he was in good health, inquired about how his mother, father, brothers and sisters were doing, asked if they were in good health, etc. When he was finished writing his letter he read it over twice, wincing at the dry language of his own writing style, before folding it up and sealing it in an envelope. Writing letters back home was just a chore to get over and be done with.
He whipped out a pipe and started to smoke absent-mindedly while he sat staring at the flickering light of the fire. It pained him to write to his mother and father; he knew they were ashamed of him...and he resented that. All these years he had fought in volunteer forces, risking his life in battle for a greater good. He didn't have to serve; it wasn't required of elves to serve in the army when their country wasn't at war, he hadn't been conscripted. But no amount of years spent selflessly fighting in the volunteer army would make them proud of him. His failed marriage was an indelible blotch on his character in his mother and father's eyes. It was the scarlet letter on his chest.
Elaenar sat dwelling on all of these unhappy thoughts when Luthian surprised him by running into the commons.
"Elaenar, come quickly! It's Illian!" He said before dashing out towards the courtyard.
Elaenar shouted "what's wrong?" but Luthian had already taken off. Elaenar jumped up and followed him out to the main court.
In the darkness he could see a hobbling figure supported by one of the Gondorian guards who was assisting him, helping him walk. Elaenar's heart started pounding and he ran closer. It was Illian, he looked badly bruised and he had two horrible, bleeding cuts on both cheeks.
"Illian!" He screamed. "What happened?" Elaenar rushed over to his friend.
"They took them." Illian sobbed. "Faenar and Aeründal. We were captured by the orcs. They cut my face and let me go." At this Illian fell to the ground on his knees and started sobbing.
Elaenar fell to his knees too and grabbed Illian's hands.
"Illian, please, what happened to them? Where are Aeründal and Faenar?"
"They've been taken, Elaenar. They only let me go so that I could deliver the message. I'm so sorry." Illian closed in on himself and started sobbing
"What message? Illian?" Luthian said, grabbing his friend by his shoulders and helping him up. He wrapped one of Illian's arms around his shoulder and the Gondorian guard took the wounded elf's other arm.
"Come, let's get you inside."
Still crying, Illian continued: "Luthian, they're holding Aerudnal and Faenar hostage. They said that if we attack they'll torture and kill them both."
Elaenar thought he was going to be sick. They'd been captured; it was his worst nightmare. He felt as if time had stopped and he was trapped in this one moment of agonizing horror.
"No, no. Please God, no, don't let this be." He thought to himself.
"Luthian, Elaenar, I'm so sorry." Illian sobbed.
"What's he saying? What's going on?" The Gondorian asked (they had been speaking in their own language up to this point).
"They've been taken!" Elaenar screamed. He didn't know why he was lashing out, it wasn't the man's fault.
"The orcs took Aeründal and Faenar and now they're going to fucking die!"
"Elaenar!" Luthian shouted (it was extremely un-elvish to say that foul word).
"Stop it!" Luthian shouted to him. "Get a hold of yourself!"
"They'll never come back alive, you know it!" Elaenar screamed at his friend.
Luthian let go of Illian for a moment and grabbed Elaenar by the shoulders.
"Stop it, enough! This isn't about you." Luthian said, shaking him.
"Now listen, go wake up Thrandar. Tell him to get Captain Barothir. They need to know immediately."
Elaenar pulled himself together. Luthian was right; now wasn't the time to be a nervous wreck. He ran as fast as he could to his Captain's quarters and frantically told him the news.
Barothir, Thrandar, Luthian and Elaenar sat around a table, gathered around Illian. Elaenar had his head in his hands, staring down at the table, devastated. Luthian sat next to Illian, dabbing his face with a cloth, trying to stop the bleeding. His other hand was gently comforting Illian on his back; he was crying softly.
"They said that if we attack the fortress they'll kill Faenar and Aeründal." Illian whimpred. "They said they'll torture them first and hang their bodies on the ramparts for us to see."
"Are they alright? Are they hurt?" Luthian asked.
Illian sniffled. "Aeründal was cut badly on his shoulder. Faenar is fine. They said that if we stay away they will release the prisoners after Barad Mendolin is reinforced with more soldiers."
"That's a lie." Elaenar growled, without looking up from the table.
Thrandar shushed him and Luthian shot him an angry look.
The elvish captain spoke up: "Can we rescue them?" He asked.
"I don't think so," Illian said, tears rolling down his face onto the ugly cuts on his cheeks. "They know we'll try to save our friends. They said they've locked Faenar and Aeründal in the prison cells with guards who will be on watch at all hours."
Elaenar buried his face in his hands; it took everything in him to keep from screaming.
"What are we going to do?" Luthian murmured.
The elvish captain didn't answer. He just shook his head. After a long pause he said:
"We'll have to negotiate with the orcs."
"You can't!" Illian exclaimed, alarmed.
"We'll surround their walls," Thrandar continued. "They'll see our numbers and when they do, the orcs will realize that they don't have the upper hand. We'll swear an oath to them that if they give us back our elves we'll let them live if they…"
"No!" Illian shouted. Elaenar looked up.
"You can't!"
"Why not?" Thrandar asked.
"Because they forbid it! They forbid us from negotiating with them. The orcs said that if we try to bargain for our friends' lives they'll take one of the prisoners and decapitate him as punishment for breaching their terms."
Elaenar put his head in his hand and with the other hand clasped his mouth. A few silent tears streamed down his face. Horrific images flashed through his mind of Aeründal's mutilated body mounted on a stake. Elaenar knew what happened to elves who were captured by orcs; there wasn't a single recorded incident in history where an elf who was taken prisoner by orcs was allowed to live and released. There was no such thing as a good-faith trade among orcs. He thought about other elves who had been captured by orcs, elves like Gelmir, who had his eyes gouged out and his limbs cut off, and Celebrimbor who's body had been run through with a stake and hoisted like a banner.
He couldn't bear to think that the kindest, most wonderful person he knew was going to die slowly and painfully at the hands of those sadistic monsters. And Faenar, his wife was pregnant and he had a daughter at home. Elaenar wanted to die. For a brief moment Elaenar thought to himself that if his two friends were tortured to death it would be too much for him and he would surely kill himself.
Consumed by all of these horrible, dark thoughts swirling around in his mind, still staring down at the table and letting silent tears roll down his eyes, Elaenar barely noticed when Luthian spoke up, saying:
"What are we going to do about the siege?"
Thrandar sighed but said nothing.
"Captain Thrandar," Barothir spoke up tentatively.
"We cannot let them manipulate us so as to prevent the attack. These lying orcs are trying to stall our siege with false promises. We are a hair's breadth away from our greatest victory yet, we must not abort the siege."
"You selfish son of a bitch." Elaenar hissed, looking up, bleary eyed. He looked Captain Barothir dead in the eye with an ugly malice that spoke to the hatred that Elaenar felt for the Gondorian man in that moment.
"Elaenar!" His captain scolded him.
"Not a thousand Barad Mendolins are worth Aeründal and Faenar's life. You don't care about them because it's not your men or your friends who were taken. It's a small price for you to pay isn't it? A little elvish blood, wrenched from the screaming and dying, to get back your fortress means nothing to you. Isn't that right?"
"Silence!" Thrandar thundared, standing. "Dismiss yourself from this counsel at once." He commanded.
Elaenar stormed out of the room without a trace of remorse for his incorrigible behavior. He made his way to the barracks, their sleeping quarters, but he couldn't go inside. He collapsed outside the door with his back to the wall and sobbed. He didn't know how he was going to be able to fall asleep tonight...actually he did. Tonight he would have to knock himself out cold with one of those illicit drugs he kept hidden under his bed. In short time Luthian found him there in the hallway. Luthian, saying nothing, sunk to the ground and sat next to Elaenar. He had tears in his eyes too.
"They'll never come back alive." Elaenar said through his tears.
"Don't say that." Luthian whispered.
"You know it's true, Luthian." He ruefully countered. "Either we stand back until the reinforcements arrive, then the orcs will celebrate their victory with Aeründal and Faenar's blood. They'll taunt us by putting their heads on spikes. You know they will, Luthian. Or we can attack and the orcs will murder our friends just the same. Don't you see Luthian? We're damned if we do and we're damned if we don't."
Luthian sighed. "Captain Barothir and Captain Thrandar are planning a rescue mission. They said they'll do everything they can to get them back."
"I doubt it," Elaenar said bitterly. "I don't trust that Barothir cares much about our comrades when his precious fortress is at stake. Aeründal and Faenar are nothing but an inconvenience to him now. Didn't you hear what he said? They're nothing but obstacles standing in the way of a Gondorian victory."
"You shouldn't have spoken that way to a captain." Luthian chastised him. "It won't do you any good in getting our friends back."
Elaenar snorted. "Barothir can go to hel-".
"Enough." Luthian said gently but firmly. "Please Elaenar, get your foul tongue under control. Come, we need to go to bed." He said, standing up and offering a hand out to Elaenar to lift him up.
Elaenar and Luthian went to bed with broken hearts that night. Elaenar guessed that Luthian didn't sleep much; probably tossed and turned all night. Elaenar knew for a certainty he wouldn't have slept at all if it hadn't been for the "medicine" he kept hidden under his bed. He felt tempted to offer some to Luthian but decided against it out of fear that he would get in trouble. He fell into a deep, drugged sleep where he hoped the nightmares couldn't follow him
