WARNING FOR IMPLIED SEXUAL CONTENT AND VIOLENCE
Chapter 19
Another burst of fire swept through the elf's body and he arched into it needily grasping on to its touch with the grip of a drowning sailor clutching a raft. This was real, of this he was certain and if it were so the person inflicting it must also be real and that meant he was not alone. Another stripe of heat blossomed, this time across his buttocks and he moaned into the stuffy fabric underneath him as he writhed in both pain and pleasure. He was tied at both ankles and wrists, spreadeagled upon the hard pallet he used as a bed, face down and still completely naked. How this could feel good he did not know but his body paid full testament to this by its hardening reaction. Another stripe, another soft moan, another movement, although this time as his hips thrust into the fabric the rough friction caused another, louder moan as his pleasure grew. There followed three sharp blazes in quick succession and the elf found himself thrusting harder with each one, trying to arch his back in order to facilitate greater friction. He tasted blood as the lip he hadn't known he was biting split and he spasmed again as the iron taste filled his mouth.
The knife stilled as its wielder stood for a moment, drinking in the picture of elven beauty before him. Livid red stripes beaded with blood stood out upon alabaster skin which still glowed faintly under the flickering candle light. As he stood with knife posed the lithe body quivered in anticipation and he could almost feel the tension building within the fair creature as he held back the next kiss of knife upon skin.
"Saes."
A whisper hardly heard but eagerly anticipated and finally he allowed the blade to fall, it's tainted tip barely brushing the top of the cleft between perfect buttocks and was gratified to hear the needy moan and watch as the mounds pushed up in an effort to deepen the contact. Raising the knife once more he heard a faint, protesting whimper before returning it to the ivory skin one more time, drawing a long, shallow line from between the pale shoulder blades slowly down the centre of the elf's spine and into the cleft of his cheeks whilst the elf thrust back into the pallet, rubbing his hardened need along the cloth.
The elf was lost to the double sensations searing their way through his body, heightened by the knowledge that he was no longer alone. The prolonged isolation along with both mental and physical torture had his mind in a state of turmoil and the added stimulus of herbs to increase libido, reduce inhibition and create a state of euphoria had finally taken him over the edge. His body moved with a will of its own. His only thoughts were of gratification. As the blaze of fire trailed from neck to behind the pleasure became so intense he could hardly breathe. One more cut, one more thrust was all it would take to find his release. He held his breath as the knife left his aching body, the anticipation of the final cut making his whole form tremble and he raised his hips as much as possible, pushing his rear into the air as far as allowed in his bound position, in an effort to goad the knife into returning.
"Saes, please." The whimpering plea sounded desperate to his own ears but he didn't care. His need was overwhelming all other thought now. "Finish...saes." The wait stretched interminably and he felt tears begin to leak from his eyes as he began to rub himself along the cloth once more, rutting into the pallet without care or thought but not quite able to reach the heights he craved. "Saes."
Enthralled by the wanton spectacle beneath him the witch king reveled in the power he held over the writhing creature. Dipping the tip of his blade into the herbal cocktail beside him he pondered the best spot to place it for the final time then with a slow, predatory exhalation of foetid breath he brought its tip to the elf's body once more, placing it, almost tenderly upon the quivering flesh of one perfect globe.
The elf stilled his frantic motions for a moment as he heard the sibilant breath and felt the contact then, as the knife suddenly bit deep and twisted around, his hips thrust forwards in one final surge and he cried out at the force of his release as it ripped through his body in wave after wave of ecstasy, the like of which he had never known before.
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~o~
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The three brothers sat in silence, each with their eyes fixed on the, once more still and silent, wounded youth, each deep within their own thoughts. Aragorn's mind was awash with questions as he pondered the few intelligible words the young man had uttered, his fingers flexing and relaxing as if they wished to grab the insensate being and shake more from him. Firelight glinted off the blade of the small knife Elrohir was flipping automatically from hand to hand, millenia of practice guiding it without the need for visual confirmation, whilst Elladan sat in complete stillness. The only one to show no outward sign of agitation or worry.
"What if it were he?" The words spilled out from Aragorns lips as he found himself unable to contain his anguish any longer. "Legolas could be out there, wounded, dying and we just sit here, doing noth."
"There is nothing we can do Estel." Elladans calm voice broke into the young man's increasingly frantic tones. "We do not even know for certain who this man saw."
"But it has to have been him," Aragorn replied emphatically. "Which other elf would be out here, so far from Thranduil's halls?" His eyes glistened with unshed tears in the firelight. "We have to find him." He sprang to his feet as if about to rush off and begin the search that very moment.
"But where do we look Estel?" The elder twin remained cool and unruffled. "We do not even know where this man came from?"
"I can start where we found him," the young man began animatedly. "Look for tracks and blood trails," he continued rapidly, as if speaking to himself. "Follow them back to wherever they were set upon." He paused briefly to stare almost pleadingly at his elder brother. "There will be something to show us, they can't have come from nowhere."
"And would you do this alone Estel?" Elrohir's curt tones made the young man turn his head sharply and frown. "With the Valar knows how many evil creatures roaming the forest out there?" His normally warm brown eyes now appeared dark and hard to the young man.
"I can take care of myself." As soon as the words left his lips Aragorn knew they sounded childish and petulant.
"I do not dispute that fact gwador," the youngest twin snapped back. "Yet, even you would not be able to fight off a whole army of orcs should you encounter one."
The stinging sarcasm contained in those few words brought heat to the young man's face as anger and humiliation vied for control within him and as the hand gripping the pommel of his sword tightened its hold there was a second where his brother saw death within his steel grey eyes.
"And would you leave one of us alone with only this dying child for aid if he were attacked?" Elladan strove to break the tension with calm logic. "We all want to find Legolas Estel, but that is not the way."
"Nay," Aragorn sighed as his head bowed in defeat, anger fleeing as quickly as it had surfaced. "You are right, as ever, brother." He looked back up into the elder half-elf's understanding gaze with a rueful smile. "It is just so hard, to know he is out there yet not be searching for him."
"I know, pen neth." Elrohir stood to embrace his human brother tightly. "It is hard for us too, yet rushing about blindly will not help our friend." He smiled indulgently at his twin over the young man's head, squeezing his human brother compassionately.
A soft moan from the injured human broke the mood and three heads swiveled as one to the source of the sound. The youth's head rolled slowly from one side to the other and as Elladan reached out a long hand, gently resting it upon the human's forehead to check for heat his eyes began to flutter open and he uttered a long, drawn out groan.
"Peace, you are safe." Elladan's soft words, intended to soothe the man appeared to have the opposite effect as his eyes finally came to focus on the half elf and opened wide in apparent terror.
The young man appeared transfixed with fright. His mouth opened and closed but no sound emerged and his eyes never strayed from the worried face of the twin before him. Elladan reached out a tentative hand but before it could make contact with the youths arm he finally found his voice and their small haven was rocked by a loud, petrified, scream.
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~o~
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He was alone again.
Awaking to find himself lying face down upon the hard pallet, the coarse fabric beneath him sticky with his own essence and the smell of musk on the air, the elf had lain for a moment, the memory of pain and pleasure still fresh in his mind. Easing himself into a sitting position he stared at the pale, unbroken skin on his wrists in disbelief. He wriggled his behind on the hard surface beneath him and groaned at the lack of discomfort from the cuts he knew he should be feeling. Almost as if in a dream he slowly moved his hand to feel around the small of his back, and encountered nothing out of the ordinary. No sticky bloody residue, no scarring. Just smooth, soft skin. Even an elf should not have healed so quickly.
It had felt so real.
A smile played around the corners of his mouth as his fingers brushed over his sticky stomach. His body had obviously thought is to be real. His mind wandered and his fingers followed. He had never felt such strong sensations and they had taken him so far away. He closed his eyes and tried to recapture the feeling with the featherlike touch of his fingers brushing along the inside of his thighs but it would not come. Too tame. Too soft. His fingers clenched, nails digging into the tender skin and his breath hitched. That was more like it. He loosed his grip and ran his fingers lightly down his thighs again, he needed to escape this prison, if only in his mind, without conscious thought he dragged his nails across the tops of his thighs and felt his stomach clench. He raked them back and forth digging into his pale flesh as hard as possible and closed his eyes. A memory teased his mind and he closed his eyes to better see the pictures forming, he was in the canopy, watching something far below. Orcs. Yes, a group of orcs. Arguing. The fight! He remembered now and the pictures came faster as the memory of the duelling orcs filled his mind. Their power and strength, the smell of blood in the air, everything came rushing back and he gasped as his grip tightened upon both thighs
Unnoticed in the shadows the witchking stood, mesmerised by the thoughts in the elf's mind. It had only taken a small nudge to release the memories and allow them to come flooding out in a potent torrent. He had thought to place some false memory but this was so much better for his purpose. He drew back his own mind slightly although there was no need. The elf was so deep into the memory now he would never feel the foreign mind within his own. He watched as the elf's fingers tightened their grip, clawing madly at the insides of his thighs and the slender body leaned forwards as if eager to get closer to the action unfolding behind his eyes.
"Oh yes," The breathy words whispered around the room and for a moment the elf stilled, until the dark servant gave another mental nudge, to his mind, pushing it back to the memory of the fight yet at the same time altering the viewpoint, so that instead of watching the action from above, the elf became a participant.
"Kill him." The whispered command unleashed a storm of emotion within the thralled woodelf as he began to play out the final scenes of the, now altered, memory. His bloodlust grew with each blow, each strike of his fist upon the foul creature before him. He reveled in the slippery feel of the black blood covering his opponents form, from its myriad cuts and scratches and each retaliatory wound he received sent his already over stimulated senses soaring higher and higher.
As the fight drew to it's inevitable close the elf watched his hands tighten slowly around the orc's neck totally unaware that in actuality one of those hands had found the aching need of his own body and he was thrusting hard into the frantically grasping fingers.
"Now!"
No longer a whisper, the single word reverberated around the dark room in tandem with the wild, feral shout of exultation expelled by the elf as the orcs neck finally snapped and he collapsed backwards onto the pallet, shuddering and spent.
A/N
I am so sorry to have kept you waiting but the laptop is still waiting to be sorted and although I have borrowed a notebook it wasn't compatible and every time I tried to transfer my story files they got corrupted!
Anyhoo. Its here now and I hope it wasn't too OTT for you but I assure you, it is all relevant to the plot *grins*.
Thanks to those of you still here and of course, mentions to those lovely readers who took the time to review - 5-STAR, Obsidianglasses, BlackMinx17 and the latest follower NirCele. You make it all worthwhile guys. :)
Hope you enjoyed it and either way PLEASE let me know!