Category: Tolkien-Universe
Rating: M
Couples: -
Warnings: AU, blood, mentions of torture, character death, Loss of bodily autonomy (no Non-con)
Chapter: 7
Copyright: Characters & places © By Tolkien Estate, Plot & OC´s © by me
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As Tyelpe had to inform his uncles of their lost brothers and of the Silmarils Gorthaur had snuck into his pockets during their struggle, his father woke far south of their family's holdings. Not that he knew that yet.
"Moryo?" They were deep in some damp caves, and if not for some glowing lichen that spend just enough light, they'd have been in utter and complete darkness. His older brother's heavy robes were almost wholly soggy, but he could not detect any hints that it was blood. Simply the time they had spend on the wet floor, the thick velvet clearly acting like a sponge. "Moryo." He didn't dare raise his voice too much, since no place they'd have ended up after facing Sauron could be good one.
"Curo...?" It took the other Son of Fëanor some moments to raise himself into a seated position. "What...?" He sounded disconcertingly groggy, leaving his younger sibling to worry that the collapsed storage-cabinet had done more damage than merely knocking him out.
"We've been taken from Thargelion." Curufinwë propped him up with his shoulder, looking around properly. "Tyelpe..." At this distance - Valar, where had they ended up!? - he could only tell his son lived, and naught else.
"Angband?" Morifinwë whispered lowly, leaning heavily on him.
He had no answer to offer. Surely no depth of Angband would be far enough to leave his parent-bond with Tyelpe this weak, but he could hardly imagine where else Sauron might have taken them.
They had no more time to figure it out, because footsteps were approaching. Both of them had spend enough time getting dragged on hunts with Tyelkormo to note the claws under the echoes of boots.
"Ah good, you're awake." A firey glow offered them some more light, the Maia still looked distinctly flame-like as he appeared in the corridor leading to their little cavern. Around him, steam rose from the rocks, the dampness evaporating under his heat. "Taking your sweet time, weren't you?"
Before he could react, Curufinwë found himself behind his older brother.
"Easy, my dear. Just here to talk." There was a massive wolf behind the Maia, so even if they had not already learned how outmatched they were unarmed, trying to fight him would only end poorly.
"What could you possibly wish to talk about?" His hair was a mess, his robes utterly ruined, but the Lord of Thargelion managed to make himself seem like a Lord even here.
"A little deal, between the three of us." The Maia leaned against the wall. "I'll get to business - I am certain you will appreciate it. You two become mine."
"I think you are severely misunderstanding us if you think that'll ever happen." The elven smith snarled, hands clutching his brother's sleeve.
"Oh no, I think I know the House of Finwë well enough by now." The steam made his form appear rather unclear. "Look into yourselves... tell me... are you missing anything?"
It was a trap, he didn't doubt it, but on sheer instinct he did as asked. And gasped in disbelief.
"Upside of collective oaths. If it fulfills for one, it fulfills for all." The Lieutenant of Angband smirked. "Little Tyelpe gave the bag I left him to dear Maitimo. He has claimed the Silmarils."
"You... what?"
Their dumbstruck question was ignored however, their captor continuing speaking as if he had not just blown their minds. "One Son of Fëanáro for the Silmarils, one more for the Oath. A fair trade, I figure." Liquid fire eyes turned to them, glowing in the pale steam. "You two become mine, and in turn, I'll not try and find out if the Oath reactivates if those gems get stolen again. After all, I broke into Valinor... Good luck to your brother getting better protections than that. You two, for the removal of the threat of the Everlasting Dark for the rest of your family. A meager price to pay, isn't it?"
If not for the fact he'd been holding only fabric, his nails would have drawn blood on his brother's arm at that.
Their Oath was fulfilled, the Maia could not lie over that, as they could feel the absence of the band that had shackled them to their father's gems. And it's not like the elves could have gotten into Angband in the span of a day orso.
They had to believe him, simply because there was no other explanation possible.
"You..." They shared a look. The two of them were already in his power, their only other choice would be dying trying to fight him, and risk calling down the Everlasting Dark upon their family once more. Or they could buy any rescuers time... Assuming those would be there.
"What do you intend to do with us?" The trader between them demanded softly.
"Whatever pleases me, save killing either of you. I do intend you to last me a good while." Their captor briefly looked over his shoulder, before shrugging lightly as he returned his attention to them. "Choose quickly, I have an order I intend to give you that does not have much time to be done. Dear Arafinwë is not handling his wounds well, and I am not exactly a healer. Well, I am working under the assumption you want him and your cousins alive, of course."
He pushed away from the wall, holding out his hands. "So... what will it be, Sons of Fëanáro?"