Category: Tolkien-Universe
Rating: M
Couples: -
Warnings: AU, blood, mentions of torture, character death, Loss of bodily autonomy (no Non-con)
Chapter: 9
Copyright: Characters & places © By Tolkien Estate, Plot & OC´s © by me
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He had left his robes in the caves - vaguely wondering if someone would ever find them again - as they'd just have grown moldy from being wet without proper drying. They had wrapped their jewelry, such as had survived their abduction, into it, as if making a memorial to their old selves.
It proved a good plan, because while Sauron would deign to take their uncle along, he did not extend the same courtesy to them.
He couldn't help but wonder if he was testing their oath to him, leaving only the vampire to guide them for most bits while he would await them at a nightly resting-spot.
Their boots were well-made enough that both of them didn't really suffer on that accord, but the Maia was pushing them. Neither were the most athletic of their brothers, and Carnistir was sure that even Tyelko would have been hard-pressed. On paper, the distance they had to travel was not unreasonable for a day's worth, even if they had to jog most of the time to do so. They had traveled it before, even on foot. They had managed to do so before.
Even now, they did manage to reach the resting-spots every evening. But it took longer every day. They went to rest later every day, and had to move at the same time every following day. They started more tired every day, worsening the speed they could use cross Beleriand - never mind that they had gotten further south than any elf had before, no doubt.
He stumbled a bit when reaching his destination 4 days into the second week of travel, legs hurting. They hurt all the time by now, the brief moments of rest no longer enough to recover. If he was judging correctly, it was near midnight already.
"Taking your sweet time, aren't you?" The Maia was reclining on a large rock, glowing in the dark. "Are you intending to run non-stop soon?"
Their uncle was pale and drawn as they fell at his sides. He didn't have to run the distance, thank Eru, but being moved daily was probably unconductive to his health as well. There had to be a reason healers would always order bed-rest for days or weeks.
"They're tiring..." Their elder whispered weakly, holding his arms so they could tuck themselves against him. Carnistir reached over his chest for Curufinwë, who took the hand. It did not matter that they were tiring, they had no choice but to obey the Maia.
Even the oath he had demanded of them had been a trap, demanding only that they not escape from him in any form or way lest he steal the Silmarils and potentially start up their father's Oath again and condemn themselves and their brothers to the Everlasting Dark.
And of course, the first thing he did order after healing their uncle was something where failure could be construed as an attempt to escape.
"If they didn't take so long, they'd be able to get a full night's rest." One of the wolves prowled up, sniffing them. He had already stopped flinching whenever the massive beasts got close, merely hiding his face in Arafinwë's shoulder. He was starting to get hungry, but they had no time or energy to forage on top of traveling. The only sustenance they got these days was what they happened to literally walk past, fruit-trees and a river.
"One day..." Finwë's golden son softly asked, arms curling around his nephews. "Give them just one day, Mairon... please."
"You are aware that the further we go, the likelier it is that the Song I wove over those damn crystals breaks right? Do you really want to be out in the open once it does?" Thuringwethil landed on a different boulder, having an easier time keeping up since she could switch duties with Draugluin when she wanted to rest properly as they took longer and longer.
"He won't be able to catch up in one day, nor will our kin." It seemed a well-worn argument between them. Fëanáro's middle son figured they had little else to do during the day. "We're well south of Beleriand and the Leaguer already..."
His heart was still racing, both from running for a full day and in some faint semblance of hope. One day would not undo all their exhaustion, but it'd help greatly in getting back to a more workable time-schedule.
He peeked up at the glowing form through his hair, squeezing his brother's hand. He didn't dare open his mouth, because he feared their... master would then reject the notion on principle.
Curufinwë did flinch minutely when the Maia landed loudly on the ground behind him, grey eyes widening a touch before pressing closed as mockingly slender fingers reached for his hair. It was matted with sweat and dust, caked into mud. Only the most hardy of their braids had held out until now, and even most of their clothes had been discarded at some point. They simply did not have the energy anymore to do them over, and their uncle did not have the strength to do it for them.
"I suppose running them to dead would be a waste." Sauron rose to his full height again. "One day, both of you. You get one day to rest."
"Thank you." It was Arafinwë that answered for them, tightening his grip on the sons of his half-brother. "Thank you."