WARNING: Violence/gore, torture/abuse, rape (in this chapter)

Merry's eyes turned to the sky, warm colors playing across the clouds as the sun began to rise. Had they really been searching so long? The thought suddenly made his legs drained, a yawn stretching his mouth. Boromir chuckled beside him, placing a hand on his little Hobbit's shoulder. "It won't be long, master Merry." The man glanced up to catch Aragorn giving him a disapproving stare, to which Boromir quickly returned.

"So... You've escaped before?" Pippin asked after some minutes of silence. The elf, Ithilhen, had been drifting to sleep, but groggily lifted his head. The Hobbit took note of how tired he looked, but was amazed he was in as good a shape as he was, considering.

"Aye, indeed I have..." Ithilhen replied. He shook the hair from his face and the sleep from his eyes. "Mostly through... idiocy on our captors' part." The corners of his mouth turned up. "But I have skills a plenty, and am not often taken for a fool. But, these bindings..." He lifted his wrists and shook them, crinkling his nose. "...are something different..." He sighed heavily, head dropping dismally.

Pippin tilted his head, not following what the elf implied. "Oh." He replied nervously, pausing now, unsure of how to ask what was on his mind. "...What're they going to do to us?" He squeaked after a short while.

The elf looked at him, eyes sad. "I don't know little friend." He lied. "...But I promise this to you now, I will not let them hurt you." He held the Hobbit's eyes, hoping to show him some form of comfort, and when Pippin's blue eyes reflected desperation, he continued. "And your friends will be here. And if they don't, I'll find a way out. Keep hope, Pippin."

Their talk was interrupted as the man who had carried Pippin ducked in to the tent. He had to crouch to fit beneath its cloth ceiling, but still towered over the Hobbit and the Elf, who were now overcome with dread.

"The boss says it's okay." He said, as though it would explain what his intentions were. His huge hand suddenly reached out for Pippin, who couldn't help but scream. The elf acted quickly, kicking his leg up and striking the menacing hand away. With a grunt of anger and shock, the man turned sharply and disappeared from the tent. Deafening silence followed before voices reached the tent.

A new and very unfriendly face entered, followed by the giant from before. Without a pause, the newcomer grabbed Ithilhen by his face, squeezing his cheeks. "You're still not broken, filthy bird?" His gravelly voice assaulted their ear. "No he ain't. Boss said I could, an the bird kicked me." the giant complained.

"And the bird knows what we do about that. How about we show his little friend what we do, Ghun?" The gravelly man spoke to the giant (apparently named Ghun...) who nodded eagerly, a delighted smile on his big face. To the chest he went, pulling a many-tailed whip from within. Pippin felt cold, 'please don't let it be me' running through his mind, and he felt guilty relief when Ithilhen's chains were released from the post.

He struggled and kicked as they shoved him, face first, into the dirt. Ghun's big hands pulled the tattered shirt from the elf's back and held his shoulders down, but he still fought, legs kicking at the gravelly man that stood over him. Pippin didn't want to watch, but his eyes didn't seem to want to focus on anything else in the darkness. It made his stomach feel ill, but he couldn't look away.

Even as the gravelly man placed a heavy foot on Ithilhen's backside and drew back his arm... The crack of the whip was almost as bad as the scream that followed as the elf's skin was flayed, another scar added to the mess on his back. His torso twisted against the two men, and Pippin wondered how this crazy elf had kept his will to fight through all he must have already gone through.

The whip cracked again, and again, and twice more before Ithilhen's struggles subsided to convulsions and sobs. His back was painted red, and Pippin nearly fainted as he realized the blood had sprayed across the room and over his own face. He closed his eyes tight and rubbed at his face with his sleeves, half hoping that when he opened them again, none of this would be here. That he'd be back in the Shire, or at least back with his friends.

But when the little Hobbit's eyes did open, he was sure he was nowhere near home... No Hobbit would ever do this - any of this. They wouldn't whip another into a delirious trauma, they would certainly not straddle the poor fellow in such a way, pressed to the ground and still struggling after it all... Pippin covered his eyes with a sob, shoulders bunching up around his head. He longed for home, for the Shire, where there would be no foul and cruel a deed as rape to break their minds.

...

Pippin was doing all he could to drone out the things around him, and the gravelly man laughed as the little Hobbit hummed quietly, his head buried deep in his arms. Ithilhen twitched beneath the man, a feeble attempt to buck the man away. Ghun, who seemed impatient, let out a breath and shifted. "Neil..." He complained to the gravelly man. "I ain't gonna have any fun if you hog 'im..."

Neil, still straddling the trembling elf, grinned at his friend. "Are you asking to go first, Ghun?" He said in an almost singsong voice. The big guy nodded rapidly. "I always go first with our little friends, don't I? But I'm sure they'll like it just as much. He's all your." Neil stood. "Don't let him go, but don't break him." He added sternly, before leaving the tent. Ghun had nodded the entire time, and kept nodding as he lifted his hands from the elf's shoulders to his sides. Being careful, like his friend had said, he lifted and rolled the elf, who let out a strangled cry as his back rubbed against the dirt, arching away from it. His bound hands clenched, eyes remaining tightly closed.

The large man tugged on the bloody shirt, pulling it down to cover Ithilhen's torso and, almost thankfully, his back. Ithilhen's breath came out in rasps through gritted teeth now, back still arched up. It was almost distraction enough to forget what was to come, but the tug on his pants brought a kick to his legs, though they did little more than help the beast of a man get an easier hold around him. The elf groaned, throat raw and face wet from his cries. Ghun leaned over him, removing his lower clothes with ease. "Bird is pretty dirty now. But that's okay. I don't mind." he said, almost as a consolation to the weeping elf. With one huge hand, Ghun pulled the front of his own pants down, his length already eager to go. It bumped against Ithilhen's leg, and the elf's body went rigid, muscles tightening.

The other hand was firmly on Ithilhen's hip, holding him from writhing around. Shifting, the man awkwardly rubbed against the smooth crease between Elven legs, tearing a shuddering sob from the tense body attached to those legs. His moon-like eyes cracked open for a moment, glaring up at the flushed face of his captor, just before an awkward rub turned into pressure on his opening. He gasped and would have yanked himself away if not for the hand on his hip, and now the other taking hold of his side.

Ithilhen gritted his teeth as the tension tried to push through, quickly realizing he'd be broken by that. "P...plea-se... Not, not that... Dry..." He managed to gasp out, toes curling. "Too big..."

Ghun tilted his head before pulling away, allowing Ithilhen a moment to breathe, loud and deep. His abs were aching from keeping his back arched... And he couldn't help spare a look at the sobbing hobbit nearby. He wanted so much to apologize, but his breath was halted again when a slippery thing suddenly pressed into him. He managed a glance down and saw the man had wet his hands and shaft with something rather cold and thick.

Ithilhen threw his head back, gasping in pain as the too-large finger inside of him moved about. Writhing, one of his hips gave out and his bleeding back nearly hit the ground, but that large hand pulled him close, resting his slender hips on his own oversized lap. The elf nearly thanked him, but the man continued with his fingers, playing with the elf's strained opening, until he became too eager and pulled them out hastily.

Ithilhen knew what would come next, and prayed it would be over quickly. His fingernails dug in to the palm of his hand and he bit his lip as the pressure returned.

With a rough jolt, the tip shoved through, into the poor elf. Ithilhen's mouth dropped open and his fingers splayed, but no sound escaped. He was choked by the pain and the horror in realizing this was just the start. Ghun was more than ready to begin, but the elf around his length was too tight to use as quickly as he would have liked. So he pressed further in, pulling on Ithilhen's hips as he did, and the elf began to choke out sobs again. His legs hung uselessly over the man's shoulders, bending as he was pulled closer, and his arm were bound over his chest. Ithilhen was helpless, trembling and trying to get his own muscles to relax, to ease the pain. But every nerve was screaming, even as their elf could not.

Ghun shifted, raising up on his knees slightly, angling Ithilhen awkwardly so his shoulders supported his own weight. With the change, the man thrust deeply. How was there still more to go?! Ithilhen thought in desperation and rage, before his body gave an involuntary twitch as the horrible girth inside him brushed something sensitive. Ithilhen grit his teeth harder, holding on to his sobs of horror at the feeling. It had been terrible and icy-hot, but he knew he would love it under any other circumstance. He hated to think this would be ruined now...

Finally the man was as far in a he could go, thighs nearly flush with Ithilhen's round cheeks. Ghun was panting excitedly, still trying to thrust further. He pulled back slightly, and groaned at the feeling as he thrust back in. Ithilhen scrunched his eyes tight as the thrusts shook him, jostling his legs and scraping his shoulders against the dirt. The trembling elf still made no noise but shaking breathes, on which he focused. Soon the thrusts grew faster and the man threw back his head, tongue hanging out as his hips moved desperately. Ithilhen wished he was not bound, his hands longed to grab on to some surface for support, his whole body shaking from the force.

With a few suddenly erratic, deep thrust, Ghun let out a deep growl, his hands squeezing so tight on Ithilhen's hips that a sharp cry squeaked from the elf. The large man shuddered in climax, thrusting once more as he came inside the smaller body. He was still for a moment, panting heavily and riding the coattails of the pleasure. Ithilhen felt ill at the feeling inside of him, like his belly was being filled. Too much, too deep... He turned his head, grimacing, and the man continued to empty inside of him for what seemed an impossibly long time. By the time his last short thrust was over, Ithilhen almost felt his belly would look like a woman with child, though he knew it not to be true. Without ease, Ghun pulled out, earning a shocked gasp from the elf, who could now feel the spill leak down his back, mixing with his blood. The man released his crushing grasp on him, and Ithilhen hit the ground with his side, twisting to keep his back safe.

Putting himself back in to his pants, Ghun left the tent and the gravelly man entered, grinning down at the wrecked elf.

"Now he wasn't so bad, was he?" He cooed, crouching down. "Now I'm not one for sharing, so I'm afraid I won't be entertaining tonight." His gravelly voice was mocking. Ithilhen barely noticed a cloth in his hand before the wet fabric jabbed his wounds, cleaning the mess away. He flinched and cried lightly, but bore the torment in front of this man. He was slow in cleaning the damage, even slower when he went to clean away the seed left by Ghun. His fingers were intrusive, though not as large as the other man's, which was almost a thankful thing.

Ithilhen was exhausted, muscles spent, and could barely tense up when the gravely many slipped his fingers inside. All he could do was focus on his breathing, though those fingers dug deep. After a while, the gravelly man seemed satisfied with his cleaning and dressed the elf before standing over him. "Remember this." He spoke to both the Hobbit and the Elf, before attaching the cuffs to the bolt in the ground again. As the man left, Ithilhen caught a glimpse of the sky, blessed unconscious arriving too late. The clouds had just begun to change color to the warm color of a sunrise. Morning was near.

The sun was peaking over the trees when the trio reached the feeble gate. "What is it?" Merry asked, sticking close to Boromir's side.

"A bandit camp, I believe." The man replied, placing his hand on Merry's back. "They must have found Pippin and brought him back here..." Aragorn turned to the two, hatching a plan.