Chapter 21
The sobbing had subsided and the elf sat, utterly exhausted, leaning against the comforting solidity of the strangers leg beside him. He was mentally and physically spent and it showed. His pale skin was almost translucent and the long tresses of his hair hung limply around drawn features with eyes sunken and red raw. Allowing this brief respite, as much for himself as the elf, the witch king savoured the feeling of a warm body pressed against him, whilst he worked out his next actions. One false move now and he could wipe out all he had achieved so far. He moved his hand from where it rested upon the elf's shoulder and began to gently stroke the golden head.
"You are tired young one. Sleep now."
The voice, low and soft, swirled through the elf's head as soothing as warmed honey and an audible sigh left his lips. Lethargy crept over him and his head began to feel too heavy for his neck to support. The hypnotic motion of the hand smoothing his hair took him back to his childhood and he felt his body relax with the onset of sleep.
"Saes." With an effort he forced out the whisper through the pleasant fog now enveloping his mind. "Stay."
"I will sweet one. I will not leave you."
Allowing his eyes at last to close, indicating the extent of his debilitation, the elf drifted off to sleep, a smile on his lips for the first time in what felt like an age.
"I will never leave you."
The witch king gently laid the elf down and bent forwards over his sleeping form to inhale his scent deeply, feeling a shudder of delight sweep through him.
"You are mine." Whispering the final words he seated himself upon the edge of the pallet and prepared to take another plunge into the, hopefully even more, responsive mind of the beautiful creature before him.
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~o~
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"He has to be, can you not see!" There was a harsh edge to Aragorn's voice that told of his frustration. "It is the only explanation."
"You may well be correct, Estel." Elladan's smooth tones cut in over his brother's. "But let us just stop and consider the facts first, muindor."
"'Dan is right, Estel." The younger twin glanced from one to the other. "It is well that we are certain before we approach that fell place."
"I am certain."
The stubborn set of Aragorn's jaw elicited a sigh from his brother's. They knew full well that once his mind was made up on a point he would not be easily swayed.
"And say you are correct, Estel." Elrohir moved to stand directly before the young man, effectively stopping him in his tracks as he paced, back and forth before the small mound of earth and rocks that now marked the final resting place of the dead youth. "We can not simply walk into Dol Guldur to find him."
"We can not stand idly by and do naught either!" The young man snapped. "He saw the witch king,," he indicated the tomb with a sharp wave of the hand. "Standing over Legolas, what other proof do you need?" Steel grey eyes flashed between the twins in challenge.
"Did he say that, Estel?" Elladan remained calm before his brother's growing storm. " Did he actually state that was whom he saw?"
"Aye, he may have been mistaken and it is a fell place indeed." Elrohir quickly agreed with his brother. "We need to consider.."
"You two can consider all you like." The young man threw his arms into the air. "I am going to Dol Guldur," he forced out through clenched teeth. "Legolas needs help." he walked to where their packs had been left in readiness for their departure. "And whether or not you wish to join me or not, help is exactly what I intend to give him." Picking up his pack he slung it over his shoulder and , without a backwards glance, headed off into the trees, leaving his brothers to share a resigned look before shouldering their own belongings and following on behind.
"Fool of a human." Elrohir muttered under his breath. "You will get yourself killed!" He shouted after his adoptive brother's receding figure.
"I'd rather die trying, than live and leave Legolas in the hands of that monster," the young man called back over his shoulder, suppressing a smug grin. He had known they would follow and although he would not say as much, he was very glad they had.
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~o~
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The elf was dreaming. He was standing before his father's throne, a sense of dread building within his heart, a vague feeling of deja vue nudging at the corners of his mind. He could not remember how or why he was there, nor why his hood was pulled so far forward as to obscure his features in a manner not normally allowed before the king. Peering out from under his cover he could just make out the feet of those that surrounded him and realised, from their position and proximity that he was under guard. Memories began to return then, slowly at first, with a few jumbled images of elves and broken arrows before they finally coalesced into a complete picture as he heard his father's voice demanding to see his face.
He relived again the pain and anguish of Lhosson's death and his own eventual banishment and filled with humiliation and horror it was all he could do to stand his ground as the king reached out to snatch the covering from his head.
The world went silent as he stood, exposed to the grim, judgemental faces of his father's counsellors and his own guardsmen. Raising his eyes fearfully, he finally encountered his fathers own, blazing, ice cold glare which cut through his heart like a knife.
"You!" The king's voice was cold and held nothing but contempt within it's dark tones. "Where did you find him?"
As Thranduil turned away from his son to speak to the captain standing at his side, the young elf thought he saw a glimmer of emotion deep within his eyes but it was so fleeting he felt it was naught more than imagination.
"At the southern perimeter, my liege." The guardsman replied with a bow. "Hiding in the trees, watching the patrols." He glanced over at the forlorn elf, a look of disgust twisting his well known features.
"Spying!" A collective gasp arose from the room as the king spat out the word, then turned to thrust his face into that of his son. "'Twas not enough to bring shame upon us with your banishment? Did you have to compound your ill deed with this too? Deloth Thaw!" His voice was little more than a snarl at the final curse
The young elf involuntarily stepped back from the force of his father's anger but was stopped from moving further by two pairs of strong hands that gripped his arms and held him in place.
"And to what do we owe the pleasure of your company?" Thranduil suddenly turned his head to stare at first one, then the other of his son's captors, looking as if a foul smell was emanating from each.
"Our pardons, hir nin."
The figure on his left moved slightly and bowed, allowing the captive a glimpse of long, dark hair and he recoiled as he recognised the smooth tones.
"Indeed, hir nin." A second, equally well know and well loved voice chimed in. "We were merely tracking this one," he pulled firmly upon the arm held tightly within his grip. "After receiving news that he had been seen around the dark tower."
"Had he, indeed."
The kings eyebrows raised and his voice darkened but the young elf could do naught but stare at Elrohir as his face swam into view, blurred by the tears he was desperately holding back at the look of contempt he saw in his friends eyes.
"Have you nothing to say for yourself?"
Thranduil's icy regard was fixed upon his son and, as much as he wished, the young elf could not bring himself to meet his gaze.
"Nay?" The king sneered. "Very well." He drew himself up to adopt his most regal air. "You knew the fate that awaited you if ever you dared enter this kindgom again, Exile." The last word was spat out contemptuously as he turned his back on the young elf and walked towards his throne. "Take him away, he reeks of death." He waved a hand towards the exit to the lower levels.
"My Lord."
Elladan stepped forward, a worried frown upon his face, and for a moment the young elf's heart filled with joy, thinking that his friend would intercede on his behalf after all. The spark of hope quickly died however, with the older twins next words.
"Surely you can not mean to have him executed without discovering what information he has passed on to those who dwell in the cursed tower."
The court stilled and stared at the peredhel who had dared question their king, awaiting the furious outburst they knew must come, yet it did not. Thranduil continued on to his throne as if naught had happened, turned and very slowly and elegantly seated himself as if he had not a care in the world Only once he had made himself comfortable, smoothing his silken robes absently with ring bedecked fingers, did he turn his gaze to the oldest twin.
"You would question him?" An eyebrow twitched as he drawled the words disinterestedly. "I can think he would have very little to impart to anyone." He glanced at the elf who was still in the grip of the youngest of Elrond's sons. "He has ever been disinterested in matters of state, preferring to be out in the forest with his trees."
The exiled prince thought he saw a brief flash of pain cross his fathers features before the blank mask settled once more and his heart was pierced anew by the ice within his frigid eyes. How could he have been so foolish as to think he would find love and compassion where it had never before existed. He shook his head. Nay, that was not true, his father had loved him, he was certain he could remember that. Something was wrong here, but before he could ponder further a sharp tug on his arm brought him back to reality as Elrohir began to pull him from the throne room.
"If you wish to waste your time, you may do so." Thranduil disinterestedly crossed one leg over the other and flicked a mote of dust from his knee. "Let me know, if by any miracle, he has anything of import to impart."
The young elf felt his heart break.
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~o~
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The witch king slowly began to withdraw his mind from that of the young elf to begin the process of coaxing him back to wakefulness. Although he had enjoyed finding and manipulating the memories held within the beings mind he did not wish to push him into grief. To have the elf begin to fade would seriously undermine the plans his master had worked so hard to put into place.
It had been fortuitous that the memory of the young elf's return to the palace had been so near to the surface and for it to also contain that pair of noldo demons in it had almost made the dark creature laugh with delight. To be able to make the elf believe that not only his father, but also the friends he held most dear despised him, was a joy and so easy given the amount of guilt and self loathing he already held inside. He felt certain that it would not take many more of these twisted memories to ensure the elf soon felt totally and utterly alone and that was just what the witch king wanted.
Pulling out of the memory the dark creature almost missed a strange figure on its periphery. An unkempt human male. For a moment he thought to deepen the contact once more but realised it was too late, the elf was already awakening, so with a mental shrug, he withdrew. Thranduil often traded with the men of Dale and the surrounding area so he supposed it was one of those merchants, come to discuss trade. The man was just a hazy memory, he could not have been important.
As the witch king sat back he watched the elf's eyes began to flutter open and he dismissed the phantom figure from his mind in order to concentrate on the real one before him.
"Ada?"
Momentary confusion caused the elf to iterate the word before he realised that the figure, seated beside him on the edge of the pallet, was most definitely not his father. He shook his head in an attempt to clear the remnants of the dream that lingered like a bad taste in his mouth.
"No." The elf could hear the smile behind the word. "But I could be like a father if you wish."
The witch king watched as various emotions swept across the elf's face, enjoying the uncertainty and confusion he saw there.
"Of course," the dark creature continued, his voice low and measured. "You would have to be a very obedient son."
He reached out to push a strand of hair behind the elf's ear then suddenly pinched its pointed tip hard between his finger and thumb, revelling in the feel of warm flesh and enjoying the reaction as he heard the indrawn breath and saw the slight shudder that ran through the elf's slender frame. The tell tale signs that although the young creature may not yet be aware of it, his body had already begun to respond to the pleasure, pain conditioning he had been undergoing since his capture.
"You will be obedient, won't you?"
The voice sank into his ears like honey and as the sharp pain on his sensitive ear tip was repeated the elf almost moaned as the pain caused a most unexpected sensation to rush through his body.
"Or shall I leave you here to think about it?"
The witch king suddenly let go of the ear, rose from the pallet and strode away as if to carry out this plan.
"Nay!" The word exploded from the elf in a pleading rush, feeling the sudden loss of contact acutely. "Do not leave me." He was almost begging. "Saes. Not again. I. I. I can not be alone again." He scrambled from the pallet to fall in a heap at the hooded figures feet, tears springing from his eyes. "Saes."
Turning to stare down at the weeping elf the witch king gave silent thanks to his master as he took in the crumpled, defeated form then took a deep breath to calm his excitement before turning away once more.
"Can not. You can not?." His words were purposefully harsh and sharp. "It is not for you to say what you can or can not do. " He moved off again without a backwards glance. "That is for me to decide." He kept walking, heading out of the room. "I can see there is still much for you to learn."
A/N
Deloth thaw = (Disgusting pervert) lit. corrupt abhorrence - Translated with Hisweloke's Sindarin dictionary.
Thanks again for reading. The memory changed here by the witch king will make much more sense if you have read The Loss first!
Special mentions go to - NirCele, BlackMinx17, 5-STAR, and Obsidianglasses for taking the time to review.
I don't think I will get the chance to update again before Christmas so will take this chance to wish you all the best for the festive season. Hope you all have fun! :)