!ATTENTION!
!ATTENTION!
This chapter can be triggering to those who read, please proceed with caution.
!ATTENTION!
!ATTENTION!
Naniel was standing in a hallway in a Mordor stronghold. His feet were bare and cold against the stone floor, the old tattered nightshift did nothing to ward against the wind that whipped past him. He was walking, down shifting corridors, passing a myriad of unnatural paintings and stairways that appeared haphazardly. It was familiar and unfamiliar.
There was an opening, as if something had ripped the side of the stronghold away and he found himself gazing up into the spotty skies of Mordor. He knew it was a dream, there were never stars in Mordor. Within this strange reality, he saw the cluster of resilient stars, winking, blinking, burning. They had no pattern, they were not a part of the night sky as he remembered. In his sleep infused brain he could not recognize which stars they were.
There was one star, paler then the rest, and weaker, but it stood out to Naniel. This insignificant star was excluded from the rest, it stood away from the group, flickering faintly. It seemed to want to approach the other stars, but something stopped it. Naniel stood and watched, he watched as the other stars moved around each other, immersed in their own dance. One star paused in the group, this one strong, confident, bright. It stopped and seemed to look at the weak little star, before it approached. With every moment the star moved closer, the weaker star began to brighten and shimmer more confidently. When there was barely any space between the two stars, they began to dance and twirl around each other. They spun together, eventually the smaller star was pulled and it found itself mixed in with the group. Naniel felt such happiness, looking at this family, this completeness and safety that emulated from the stars. It did not last for long.
In an instance, the group began to break. A few bright stars drifted away, taking their light with them, one winked out of existence entirely, soon it was the bright star, the smaller star, and only 2-3 left. Naniel could not tell how many, but his attention was focused on the two from before. Their dance continued and they moved so fast they seemed to be connecting into one. Their shapes blurred, moving so fast the light few, emulating their two forms.
The smaller star was thrown out of the dance and flew far across the horizon in an instance, its light lost behind thick clouds, leaving the brighter star behind. Naniel followed that start with his hand, wanting to reach out and pull the two back together.
But he could not.
He walked again, following something else and he padded back into the darkness of the hallway. The feeling changes, Naniel was drawn into the back of his mind, his body moved by itself.
In a blink he found on his hands and knees, the room around him shifted and moved unpredictably.
He's rocked, his body a mix of too cold and too warm. He was jostled uncomfortably, his mind cannot think, his body cannot move. His mind tries to think through the haze, tries to piece together the moment before him. His arms fail him and his chest falls, his hands stretching in front of him. Clean linen sheets bunch under his hands as the rocking intensifies.
A hand comes into view as it wraps around a wrist. It is a pale thin hand, unblemished, the veins visible through the paper skin. The hand is unadorned, except for a ring. This one was a thin silver band, unsuspecting but shameful. Naniel heaved his gaze forward, his eyes falling on the wrist that the hand held. His wrist, his hand.
Everything became sharply clear the instant Naniel saw the matching silver band on his own hand. Another hand gripped around his waist, long hair brushed against his bare back. He felt skin slap against his thighs, they stung with each hit, each moment they collided burned. The weight of someone behind him crashed down on him. He knew where he was, he knew what was happening. Suddenly the hand burned his wrist, the body behind him burned, the intrusion in him burned, he screamed.
Water crashed into him, the freezing cold hitting his arm sharply. Spluttering and spitting he heaved himself out of the bed. Arms caught him and he struggled, pushing with all his might, fighting to escape.
"Naniel!" His eyes opened. Elrohir was gripping him, his wide, alarmed, eyes scanned Naniel panting face. The dream was fresh in his mind, what had happened was fresh in his mind. Thick black tears leaked from his eyes and his throat constricted. He gasped for air as he fell against Elrohir. He grabbed at Elrohir, gripping to him, clinging to him. Elrohir's arms wrapped around his back, pushing his head into Naniels shoulder.
The elf carefully lifted Naniel back onto the bed, prying Naniels hand off from where he had grabbed Elrohir's tunic and hair. He turned to his brother, who Naniel saw, was holding an empty water pitcher.
"Go get Father! Quickly!" Elrohir urged,
"I don't want to leave you with…" Elladan's eyes met Naniels and Naniel saw a mixture of distrust and disgust in them. That gaze hurt.
"He won't hurt me." Elrohir turned back to Naniel, sitting on the side of his bed as he gingerly began to futs around Naniels shift sleeve.
It took all of Naniels strength to gaze down at his arm. Starting at his wrist and falling just short of his knuckles Naniel saw a mixture of black charred skin and bright blood. His stomach lurched as the pain hit him at once. He choked back a scream as Elrohir gently pulled off the burned sleeve.
"Please, be still, you may hurt yourself." Elrohir caressed Naniels face as he held Naniels elbow, far above the wounds. His face was etched with such compassion that Naniel's heart lurched.
"I-I." Naniels breath caught and he struggled to breath, tears streamed down his face, "I though- I dreamed of him." He whispered.
"Who, who did you dream of?" Elrohir whipped away the black tears, shushing Naniel as he choked. "Shhh, You are safe. Don't speak. Father will be here soon, he will know what to do."
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