To Kill An Elf
folder
-Multi-Age › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
7
Views:
3,135
Reviews:
22
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
7
Views:
3,135
Reviews:
22
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 1
Title: To Kill an Elf
Author: Lynsey
Beta: Spell-check
Chapter: 1/?
Pairings: None yet; Characters include Erestor, Glorfindel, and Elrond
Rating: This chapter R
Warnings: Character death.
Summery: No evil deed goes unpunished.
Disclaimer: Don't sue. All I got are college loans, and this isn't
helping to pay them off.
Glorfindel watched as Erestor tried to hide the bruises marring the creamy skin of his face with the long, raven hair he had left unusually bound today. The councilor had just returned from a trip to Lothlorien. During the ride back, the troop had reported that Erestor had gone missing one night. They had searched high and low for the councilor, but had found no trace of him after several days. Defeated, they had begun the trek back to Imladris, only for Erestor to appear once again in the midst of their camp one morning. He had been in shock, bruises and blood covering his body. He refused to speak of what had happened, not even Elrond or Glorfindel, his best of friends for centuries, could coax the story out of the advisor.
Erestor had returned nearly five days ago, and no improvement was seen in his injuries. He walked with a limp, the bruises did not fade, and he grew weaker every day. Everyone seemed to know what had happened, even if no one spoke of it aloud. Erestor was fading…and there was precious little that caused an elf to fade. Considering the state that Erestor had been found in, the cause was obvious….Erestor had been violated.
Erestor dropped his books, not for the first time today. Glorfindel moved to help retrieve the objects, but, instead caught Erestor as he collapsed. The councilors in the room moved to help, but Elrond waved them away as he moved to Erestor’s side. Glorfindel laid his burden on the cold, wooden floor of the council room.
Erestor looked up at the forms hovering above him. He reached up, and Elrond took his hand.
“I’m so sorry my friend. I wish there was something…,” Elrond chocked.
“There was nothing you could have done. It was only a matter of time. Elves who suffer my fate always fade, Elrond,” Erestor whispered weakly. “Just do not let me go alone. I don’t want to die alone.” Tears escaped his eyes, already loosing their light. His breath started to come in rattling gasps.
“Who?” Glorfindel demanded, his own tears coursing down his cheeks. “Who did this to you? I swear to the Valar that their heads will rest on pikes before the day has ended!!”
“An elf,” came the nearly inaudible reply.
“Who? Please Erestor! Do you remember who it was?”
“I wish I knew…” the councilor began, his voice shaking. “He…had a scar…on his arm. And one on his brow. That’s all I remember.” Erestor whimpered, struggling for breath, “I’m so afraid…I can’t breath,” he started to panic, struggling against the clutches of Mandos. His eyes stared terrified into nothingness. “So cold…So afraid.” His free hand weakly grasped for something to hold, to keep him anchored. Glorfindel grabbed that hand and held it tightly.
“I’m here, Erestor. Don’t be afraid.”
The advisor’s body spasmed weakly, “I’m so scared…” the broken voice whispered, still struggling to bring in the next breath.
Releasing the cold hand, Glorfindel pulled the councilor from the floor to cradle him in his arms. He rocked the icy form and stroked brittle, black hair. Soon, he felt the form he held stop shaking, and the last, shuddering breath left the battered and violated body.
The council room was utterly silent, not a sound permeated the air until Elrond broke it with a heartbroken question. “Is he…?”
Glorfindel nodded, not relinquishing his hold on the now lifeless body.
Elrond released a keening wail, mourning the loss of centuries of friendship and love. Eventually, Glorfindel softly lowered the body to the ground, arranging the body gently into a position of repose. Then he stood and turned to the door, all without a word.
“Where are you going?” questioned one of the councilors, still reeling from what he had just witnessed.
“To kill an elf,” replied Glorfindel as he exited the council chamber.
Author: Lynsey
Beta: Spell-check
Chapter: 1/?
Pairings: None yet; Characters include Erestor, Glorfindel, and Elrond
Rating: This chapter R
Warnings: Character death.
Summery: No evil deed goes unpunished.
Disclaimer: Don't sue. All I got are college loans, and this isn't
helping to pay them off.
Glorfindel watched as Erestor tried to hide the bruises marring the creamy skin of his face with the long, raven hair he had left unusually bound today. The councilor had just returned from a trip to Lothlorien. During the ride back, the troop had reported that Erestor had gone missing one night. They had searched high and low for the councilor, but had found no trace of him after several days. Defeated, they had begun the trek back to Imladris, only for Erestor to appear once again in the midst of their camp one morning. He had been in shock, bruises and blood covering his body. He refused to speak of what had happened, not even Elrond or Glorfindel, his best of friends for centuries, could coax the story out of the advisor.
Erestor had returned nearly five days ago, and no improvement was seen in his injuries. He walked with a limp, the bruises did not fade, and he grew weaker every day. Everyone seemed to know what had happened, even if no one spoke of it aloud. Erestor was fading…and there was precious little that caused an elf to fade. Considering the state that Erestor had been found in, the cause was obvious….Erestor had been violated.
Erestor dropped his books, not for the first time today. Glorfindel moved to help retrieve the objects, but, instead caught Erestor as he collapsed. The councilors in the room moved to help, but Elrond waved them away as he moved to Erestor’s side. Glorfindel laid his burden on the cold, wooden floor of the council room.
Erestor looked up at the forms hovering above him. He reached up, and Elrond took his hand.
“I’m so sorry my friend. I wish there was something…,” Elrond chocked.
“There was nothing you could have done. It was only a matter of time. Elves who suffer my fate always fade, Elrond,” Erestor whispered weakly. “Just do not let me go alone. I don’t want to die alone.” Tears escaped his eyes, already loosing their light. His breath started to come in rattling gasps.
“Who?” Glorfindel demanded, his own tears coursing down his cheeks. “Who did this to you? I swear to the Valar that their heads will rest on pikes before the day has ended!!”
“An elf,” came the nearly inaudible reply.
“Who? Please Erestor! Do you remember who it was?”
“I wish I knew…” the councilor began, his voice shaking. “He…had a scar…on his arm. And one on his brow. That’s all I remember.” Erestor whimpered, struggling for breath, “I’m so afraid…I can’t breath,” he started to panic, struggling against the clutches of Mandos. His eyes stared terrified into nothingness. “So cold…So afraid.” His free hand weakly grasped for something to hold, to keep him anchored. Glorfindel grabbed that hand and held it tightly.
“I’m here, Erestor. Don’t be afraid.”
The advisor’s body spasmed weakly, “I’m so scared…” the broken voice whispered, still struggling to bring in the next breath.
Releasing the cold hand, Glorfindel pulled the councilor from the floor to cradle him in his arms. He rocked the icy form and stroked brittle, black hair. Soon, he felt the form he held stop shaking, and the last, shuddering breath left the battered and violated body.
The council room was utterly silent, not a sound permeated the air until Elrond broke it with a heartbroken question. “Is he…?”
Glorfindel nodded, not relinquishing his hold on the now lifeless body.
Elrond released a keening wail, mourning the loss of centuries of friendship and love. Eventually, Glorfindel softly lowered the body to the ground, arranging the body gently into a position of repose. Then he stood and turned to the door, all without a word.
“Where are you going?” questioned one of the councilors, still reeling from what he had just witnessed.
“To kill an elf,” replied Glorfindel as he exited the council chamber.