The Lost

The Lost

Chapter 10
Author: Frosty the Dairy Cow
Rated: NC-17
Codes: Elrond, Legolas, Aragorn, Haldir, Galadriel, OC, AU, N/C
Summary: After the defeat of Sauron, Elves and Men go to war. The reason, though, is not so clear. Contains real plot.
Notes: Elvish translations are at the end of each chapter.
Disclaimer: LOTR is not mine. Bleh.


*

"Forgive my intrustion, Lady Galadriel, but I sensed a danger in your house." Elrond smiled softly and watched as Anólindë stood up in front of him. "I did not expect that danger to be own Anólindë."

His eyes pierced hers with a stare that let her know he knew more than he let on. "Danger?" she repeated, not volunteering anything, "What are you talking about, Elrond?"

She smiled, but his demeanor did not change. "Galadriel and I are connected," he said, holding up the hand that wore Vilya. When Anólindë glanced downward, the Lady's gaze was averted and she gently rubbed her own ring. "I could sense a betrayal forming against me. Against all elf-kind. Tell I am wrong."

Anólindë clenched her jaw as her stomach knotted in pain. She looked up from the Lady to Elrond's strong stare. Galadriel had known Elrond wouind ind out about this. Tears lined the young elf's eyes as she wondered if she herself had been betrayed. "You are wrong," she said, keeping herself steady. It would do no good to break in front of him.

His hand touched her cheek, gently stroking the soft skin. Anólindë closed her eyes and bit her lip, trying to keep from crying. "Nin bain meleth," he spoke, his voice tender, "Caral athradaenni."

Anólindë's eyes opened quickly. "Why do you not trust me?" she asked, "I love you. I would never hurt you."

"I do not deny your love for me," he spoke, stepping closer, "As I would never deny my love for you. I know what I see, Anólindë, and I know what's been shown to me. You have conversed with the enemy. You have lied to me about consorting with the Prince of Mirkwood." His hands gripped her shoulders, jerking her towards him. "What else have you done?"

Eyes widened in fear, Anólindë tried to push away from Elrond. "You're hurting me," she gasped as his grip became stronger, "Let me go!"

His dark eyes flickered. He let her gushiushing her away into the far wall. "I would have taken care of you," he said, advancing, "You should not have betrayed me."

Anólindë stood her ground as he came closer. "I never betrayed you," she said quietly, "I did all of it for you." Tears fell from her eyes as he stopped in front of her and glared down.

"For me?" he said, narrowing his eyes, "I am no fool, Anólindë. I see the dark that has taken you. It would tempt me away from what I know to be the right path, if not for what I have seen. I know the truth. The Dark Lord could not hide it from me. The Rings of Power see all."

His hand touched her shoulder, roaming up and down her arm. Anólindë risked a fleeting glance at Galadriel. She sat in her chair, staring at the floor. The hand that wore the ring was tense against her chest. Licking her lips, Anólindë looked back up at Elrond. Vilya. Nenya. "Sauron did not have the One Ring," she said, "I do not understand what you are saying."

"He may not have had it in his grasp, but he still commanded it." Elrond's gaze was distracted as he brushed Anólindë's tunic from her shoulder.

Her watery eyes searched his, hoping for a sign of the Elrond she knew. "Tell me what you have seen," she said breathlessly, "What did he show you?"

"He did not intend to show what was seen. It was merely by chance that those who wore Rings of Power would be burdened with the truth."

"What is the truth?" He stopped fingering her collarbone and looked up to her eyes. She saw hesitation there; he would not tell her what it was he saw. Feeling suddenly cornered, she put voice to a question she knew would anger him. "Did you kill Aragorn's company? Are you responsible for this war?"

He blinked softly and dropped his hand from her shoulder. "No."

"Why does Aragorn believe that you are?" Her voice shook now, with suppressed fear.

"It is what he was shown."

It was a lie. Aragorn had been shown a lie to get him to hate elves. To get him to begin a war. Anólindë widened her eyes as she realized something. "Did Gondor take the Havens after they were shown this?"

Elrond's gaze turned soft. "Yes."

"And you knew?" She felt angry now, angry that Elrond would keep knowledge like this a secret. "Why did you not say anything?" As soon as she asked the question, the answer came to her. It hit her, and her voice lost its anger. "Not for Arwen?"

Elrond's eyes grew darker as he looked at Anólindë. "Yes, for Arwen. For my sons. I saw the evil that Sauron intended, wishing to separate the worlds of men and elves, but I hesitated. Speaking before the halfling destroyed the Ring of Power would have alerted Sauron to what we knew. It was too late afterwards. Men showed their true selves by taking the Sea from us before the truth was known. They deserve their fate. As Aragorn deserves his." He grabbed Anólindë by the arms again, drawing her forward. "And you yours."

She struggled in his grasp, but he was too strong. He dragged her towards the door and Anólindë looked back, but Galadriel's eyes did not meet hers. This is what the Lady had meant about finding out the truth.

Elrond closed the door behind them as they left Galadriel's house. Standing in the small meeting area of the foyer, he shoved Anólindë up against a wall and caged her in with his arms. "What are you doing?" she whimpered, shocked by his treatment of her. Her hands pressed firmly against his chest as she tried desperately to keep a distance between them.

"You have given me pain, meleth," he said, leaning close, "I will repay you in kind."

Anólindë struggled hard when his mouth plunged against hers. She whimpered and tried to pull away, but he held her steady with his strong hands. Tears streamed down her face as he forced his tongue past her lips and stole the breath from her body. She could not believe this was happening. Never did she think he would be capable of hurting her like this.

His hands groped her body as she tried to push him away. His strength outmatched hers, though, leaving her feeling defenseless against him.

Their lips parted as Elrond inhaled a breath. Anólindë panted as he tugged her shirt open, exposing the skin beneath. "Stop this," she breathed, grabbing at his wrists. He stopped and looked up, his eyes hazy. "Don't hurt me. Please, Elrond. Think about what you are doing."

"I have thought about it," he said quietly, running his hand along her cheek, "More times than you know. I would do anything for you, Anólindë, but I cannot stop this. It is deserved. You must learn this lesson; your betrayal will not go unpunished."

"What is wrong with you?" she hissed, her eyes flashing in anger, "I have done nothing to hurt you! Elrond, listen to me! Please! You are going to rape me!"

His warm hand touched her exposed chest, his fingers slipping between her breasts. "Is that not sufficient punishment?" he asked in low tones as he watched his fingers trace her skin, "Would that not be deserved?"

Tears formed in her eyes as she watched him. He was no longer the person she fell in love with. "Elrond," she spoke, her voice soft, "I love you. If you do this, we can never be together again."

For a moment he looked sad. His hand tugged at her shirt, rubbing the fabric between his fingers. "I know," he said, raising his eyes to hers, "But it does not matter. The time of elves is at an end, whether by death or the Havens. All I have left is the vengenance I swore to inflict upon Men. That is all that matters now."

His hands found her pants and he began working at the ties. Anólindë trembled as she watched him. He was gone, replaced by this shadow. Quite suddenly, she mourned him as though he were dead.

When his strong fingers slipped into her pants, she was awakened to what was happening. With all the strength she could muster, Anólindë shoved him away from her. "You will not touch me!" she yelled as he stumbled back. It was not far enough, though, and when she tried to run by he grabbed her by the waist, throwing her back against the wall.

"If you would take this, it will be an easy punishment." He stood close to her, his dark eyes staring into hers. "Fight me, and I will inflict even more." To show what he meant, he sent a hand to her cheek, slapping her for her attempted escape. It was meant as a warning only, for Anólindë's face snapped back but she did not fall.

Her skin burned from the strike. "Elrond," she whispered, her eyes wide as she stared up at him, "What are you doing?"

"You are no better than he is," he spat, grabbing her by the throat. Anólindë jerked her hands to his, grasping at them as he held her steady, but did not squeeze. "My revenge was meant only for Aragorn, my only betrayer, but you have gone against me as well. I would have cared for you for eternity, meleth, had you only stood by me." His face came close to hers. She could feel his warm breath against her cheek. "You have consorted with my enemy, and you will pay for that."

He was through talking then, releasing her from his grasp and jerking her pants down her legs. Anólindë was not fast enough to respond, and she found herself nude from the waist down before she could fight against him.

Elrond pressed up against her as she struggled. He warned her to stop several times before hitting her again, this time harder. She fell to the cold floor and bit her lip hard, trying to offset the pain in her head. Tears fell as a hand gripped her arm and hauled her up.

Opening his pants and positioning himself, Elrond gripped her around the neck again to hold her firmly in place. "Heblin glam dad. Caral prestai Bereth," he said as he kicked her legs apart. Anólindë whimpered as she held to his wrist, fearful he would tense his hand against her throat and kill her. Her wet eyes closed as she shivered, waiting for the inevitable.

Elrond entered her in a swift thrust, using his free hand to jerk her thigh upwards and fill her completely. Moaning, Anólindë shifted against the intrusion as he lowered his face to her shoulder.

His hand loosened on her throat as he began to massage it softly. Teeth clipped at the skin of her shoulder as Elrond began a sharp, rolling pace, intent on causing her pain while gaining his own pleasure.

Anólindë's head began to spin. This was someone she loved, and he was hurting her like she never imagined he could. His heat smothered her as he rolled forward again and again, never softly, trying to give her what he thought she deserved. Moaning against the pain, Anólindë braced her hands on his shoulders. Her legs began to feel weak from the strain of staying upright as he assaulted her body.

Whispering mumbled phrases against her skin, Elrond increased his pace. He began to lose himself to his own pleasure now, concentrating on that instead of hurting her. Soon he groaned heavily, his breath hard in her ear, and it wasn't long before he loosened his grip on her neck and leg, lowering her foot to the floor.

Letting go, Elrond allowed Anólindë to slide to the floor. She grasped her shirt and held it togetheryinrying to cover herself from the chill. The room suddenly became very silent.

"I hope your lesson was learned," said Elrond as he did up his pants. Anólindë glanced at him as he knelt down in front of her. "If you do not wish to experience that anger again, I suggest you forget this idea of peace and go back to the way things were."

Anólindë curled her legs up as he stood and left. She held still until she could no longer hear his footfalls on the stairs, then slowly dressed herself. He wanted her to forget about everything, to live as they did before. Fresh tears assaulted her eyes as she stood, brushed herself off, and smoothed down her hair. After what happened, she would n be be able to look at Elrond the same way again.

Wiping at the tears on her face, Anólindë started down the stairs. Quickly, though, she halted. Licking her lips and turning back, she stared at the door to Galadriel's home. Haldir had trusted her with the Queen's safety. Anólindë couldn't leave her, no matter what had happened. So instead she sat down on the uppermost step, images racing through her mind, and awaited the Marchwarden's return.

*

TBC

Elf-Speak:

Nin bain meleth. Caral athradaenni. - My beautiful love. Do not cross me.
Heblin glam dad. Caral prestai Bereth. - Keep your yelling down. Do not disturb the Queen.