To Answer the Call of The Dark Chapter 16, a lord of the rings fanfic

Chapter 16

It was the lack of sound that roused his mind from wherever it had hidden. Nay, not complete lack, for the persistent drip still continued to drum its presence into his ears. The lack of other sound was what he now realised had brought body and mind back together. The lash had fallen quiet, and with it the assault upon his skin. He shifted slightly and tensed, expecting a wave of agony to flood his senses and was completely nonplussed when it didn't come.

Frowning he risked another movement, easing himself into a sitting position and once more the lack of pain threw his mind into confusion. There had been a whip. He was certain of that. He knew not who had wielded it but had, most definitely, felt it's bite upon his skin. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He knew. But did he? The drip, drip, drip of water was not helping and seemed. in fact, to be getting louder. He placed his long, slender hands over his ears in a futile attempt to block out the noise and tried to force himself to think. To get past the monotonous sound and really think.

Slowly images began to come and the sound receded once more to the background. He remembered spiders, and orcs and men but could not think how they all fit together. Neither could he remember how he had got to where ever it was, he was but he had an image of a man that kept coming back to him. A young man and he felt that somehow he was connected to it. He was certain about the whipping too. He could hear the swish of the lash through the air, feel the burn as it connected, yet, there was no pain now. There was another small memory that kept chewing at the edges of his mind also but he could not see it, could not grasp it and every time he tried it moved, skittering away like a woodlouse rushing back to the comforting dark of a misplaced stone.

He realised then that he had risen to his feet and begun to pace, the cold stone floor rough and uneven under his bare feet. Bringing his mind back to the present he wondered how long he had been held. As if in answer his stomach suddenly growled in protest and he tried to remember the last time he had eaten but could not. His lips felt chapped and sore and when he attempted to run his tongue over them in an effort to add moisture it felt thick and dry, although thirst did not gnaw at him. One day? Two? He realised he did not even have the means to tell if it were day or night in the unending dark that surrounded him like a tomb and felt panic begin to well up within his chest. Forcing his breath to calm, his racing heart to slow, he began to pace once more, only this time he counted his steps, both to occupy his mind and to estimate the size of his prison.

Hands outstretched, he walked slowly away from the pallet until his fingers encountered the coarse, rock wall and he turned, placing his back gingerly against its unforgiving surface. It was cold, but not unduly so and although the uneven texture felt rough against his bare skin he felt no pain. Thoughts whirled badly through his mind once more and he heard again the swish of leather through air, felt the bite of lash upon skin and slowly sank down to sit upon the floor, hugging his knees as if for comfort. He remembered. He knew he remembered, and yet how could he have been subject to the whip and have no hurt to show for it? Laying his head down upon his arms he tried to think, tried to conjure some clue as to what had happened but nothing came, and the drip, drip, drip of water began to eat into his ears, worming its way into his thoughts until it overwhelmed all else. He never noticed the tears as they began to fall. Never noticed the sliver of light that suddenly appeared opposite to where he sat, slumped and dejected. Until a tremor of air washed over his naked form. Raising his head at this new sensation, water filled eyes fixed on the shimmering white line that seemed to hang in the air before him and he almost gasped aloud.

Rising inelegantly to his feet in a rush of hope he stared at the apparition wondering if it was yet another trick of his mind. Tentatively he took a step forwards, then another and another and the image grew larger. His heartbeat quickened with the raising and lowering of each foot as the light became larger and brighter, beckoning him on until he stood directly before it and held out one hand to allow it to bathe in its glow. He stood for a moment in contemplation, allowing his eyes to adjust until gradually he could discern that it was a door before him, and it was ajar. His heart leapt. Freedom! His captors must have forgotten to close the door properly. He could escape this dark place! In excitement he reached out to swing the door open, unmindful of the consequences but stopped suddenly as sense rushed back in to overrule his elated emotions and he let fall his hands to his sides, tilted his head and opened his ears to listen.

Standing completely still he strained to hear any noise through the small gap but could hear nothing still except the dripping water that had so maddened him before. His hands automatically rose to clasp the hilts of his knives and it was only when they closed upon emptiness that he remembered his lack of clothing and more importantly, his lack of weapons. He grimaced in frustration. Coming up against whoever had imprisoned him here was going to be so much more difficult unarmed yet he was a wood elf, and he knew he was just as dangerous without weapons as with. He fervently hoped that his adversaries did not realise this too.

Slowing his breathing the elf waited for his heartbeat to settle once more then reached out tentatively to push gently at the door. It swung open silently on well oiled hinges and he stepped cautiously forwards in its wake. When no shout of alarm or sudden attack followed, he pushed on it once more, easing it wider and stepped through the gap into a wide hallway, lit by large windows through which sunlight was streaming brightly. Blinded briefly he waited, hoping he had not been seen, for his eyes to acclimatize, blinking furiously and enjoying the feel of sunlight upon his weary body once more. Moving to one of the windows he basked in its warmth, before eventually being able to open his eyes fully and discover he appeared to be high up within the walls of some citadel instead of deep under the ground as he had assumed.

As soon as he had discovered the windows were too high for even an elf to jump from and survive, he began to walk, choosing a direction at random, along the long corridor in the hopes of discovering a way out. There was neither sight nor sound of any other being present and as he hastened along his mind briefly wondered at this but decided that for what ever reason fortune had turned in his favour and he must make the most of it. At the end of the corridor was a flight of stone steps and he silently padded down to the next level, his tension rising with every step. Another empty corridor brought another flight of steps and then another and another, continuing on until he reached ground level and all the time alone, with no sign of any other life at all.

At last he stood in a great hall way, with huge marble pillars stretching up to a high vaulted ceiling, decorated with a myriad of jewels of all colours set between golden leaves and vines. A grand doorway was at one side with huge, ornately carved wooden doors which opened wide to reveal a cobbled courtyard and as he edged towards it he could see beyond stood the forest, where trees waved and called to him to come out and join them once more. His heart sang and all caution fled as his feet sped across the paved floor towards the enticing view. Freedom! He could see it. Taste it and it felt so good.

He was almost there when the unthinkable happened. As his feet reached the doors they slammed shut, colliding with his nose hard enough for him to hear the breaking of bone and feel the warm gush of blood.

"Nooooo!"

His scream echoed around the room as did the thumping of his fists upon the heavy wood but they would not yield. In his distress he did not hear the tread of footsteps behind him until it was too late, they only registered a second before the blinding pain that stole all thought away and he crumpled to the floor as the darkness claimed him once more.

~o~

The pain in his throat echoed that across his back and he woke screaming into the dark. Where was he? What was happening? Images flew through his mind and he remembered the corridors, the hallway, the almost escape and as the pain grew he realised he was back in the dark, chained up and hanging once more, only this time it was different. There was no swish of leather through the air, no bite of lash across flesh. This time although there was burning fire, it was a trail of heat drawn slowly across his skin. Rather than the fast blast of heat from a sudden whip, this was the languid stroke of a blade, drawn out to inflict as much pain as possible and he had never felt its like before. Another stream of fire began to make its way from one shoulder to the other and he bit down upon his lip hard, tasting blood, determined to make no more noise but it was not to be. The pain grew and grew, spreading from shoulders to back, until a sudden cooling air blew across it, easing the burn and causing a shiver to run through his body. A fresh stripe across his hips was followed almost immediately by the soothing breath of cold and this time he could not hold back the soft moan that escaped him as his body twitched in response. The sensations began to mingle then, the pain of the blade with the cooling pleasure of the air and he found himself beginning to respond in ways he never thought possible. As blade and breath played in tandem across his body, a dreadful duet that he both wanted to continue and stop at the same time. His whimpers changed to moans, screams to pleas until the sensations overwhelmed him and the intoxicating combination carried him over the edge and into blissful oblivion once more.

~o~

It was the addition of sound that roused his mind from wherever it had hidden. Something had overridden the persistent drip of water that continued to beat in the background and as his ears strained in the darkness his mind tried to recall what he had heard. This additional, soft grating sound was what he now realised had brought body and mind back together. He shifted slightly and tensed, expecting a wave of agony to flood his senses and was surprised to find it did not come.

Frowning he risked another movement, easing himself into a sitting position and once more the lack of pain threw his mind into confusion. There had been pain. He was certain of that. He knew not who had caused it but had, most definitely, felt a knife's burn upon his skin. Shame flooded through him for reasons he could not fathom and he shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He knew. But did he? The drip, drip, drip of water was not helping and seemed in fact, to be getting louder. He placed his long, slender hands over his ears in a futile attempt to block out the noise and tried to force himself to think. To get past the monotonous sound and really think.

A slight tremor of air washed over his naked form. Raising his head at this new sensation, wondering eyes fixed on the shimmering white line that now seemed to hang in the air before him and he almost gasped aloud.

Rising to his feet he stared at the image, wondering if it was yet another trick of his mind. Tentatively he took a step forwards, then another and another and it grew larger. His heartbeat quickened with the raising and lowering of each foot as the light became larger and brighter, until he stood directly before it and held out one hand turning it this way and that in its glow. He stood for a moment in contemplation. Before him he could just make out the sight of a door slightly ajar. His heart leapt. Freedom! Escape! In excitement he reached out to swing the door open, unmindful of the consequences but stopped suddenly as sense rushed back in to overrule his elated emotions and he let fall his hands to his sides, tilted his head and opened his ears to listen.

Slowing his breathing the elf waited for his heartbeat to settle once more then reached out tentatively to push gently at the door. It swung open, slightly grating across the floor, on well oiled hinges and he stepped cautiously forwards in its wake.

~o~

The thin, deadly sharp blade had moved slowly across the pale flesh, almost like a caress and the witch king had watched greedily, drinking in the sight like a man dying of thirst. The small beads of scarlet that welled up in its wake had stood out sharply against the alabaster skin, glistening in the flickering torchlight. Each cut had been deep enough to draw a thin line of blood, enough to infiltrate the herbal concoction used to keep the elf deep within his thrall yet shallow enough to cause no lasting damage. It would not have done after all to send him to Mandos. The master wanted so much more than his death, as did he. He had licked nonexistant lips and leaned down to blow the tiny globules gently and watch them glide over the body, merging into little rivulets and running down to drip onto the blanket before he had dipped the blade once more into the thick solution he had concocted and continued striping the elf until he had writhed and screamed and he himself had shuddered in pleasure at the powerful emotions rushing through their combined minds.

Remembering that overwhelming moment he now stood entranced whilst the elf lay still once more and he began the process once more. Leading the elf along the corridors in his mind. Allowing hope to rise before crushing it once more and thrusting him back into the almost silent, dark prison of both body and mind. He knew reality and fantasy were becoming undifferentiated within the creatures mind and was certain it would not be long before the last barriers fell and he would be granted complete control.

Picking up the knife to begin the scenario yet again he decided that the elf had rested long enough and shivered in anticipation as he wondered how much more they could both take. Perhaps he would allow the illusion to extend until the elf had actually moved through the doors and into the courtyard this time…

A/N

Hopefully these last two chapters haven't confused you as much as Legolas!

I really appreciate how many of you are sticking with me on this story and offer you all my thanks.

Special thanks to Miracles In The dark, Obsidianglasses, BlackMinx17, bettsam0731 and the anonymous Guest for their great feedback. It's so good of you to take the time to drop me a line.

To the guest I will just say you are so kind calling me an excellent writer and as for how it ends. Well. I could tell you. ...But then I'd have to turn you over to the witch king to keep your silence!