Troglodytic

**Warning: Reference to Torture, nothing graphic and no rape**

Part 14…

Erestor kept his eyes averted and his head was turned to the side, staring at the pile of lifeless fabric that was his blanket as it lay in a crumpled heap upon the floor. The silence was overwhelming and he could feel Glorfindels gaze upon him. Feel those blue eyes biting into his skin, perusing the patterns that adorned his flesh and his stomach turned. Why had he done it? Why? Panic clawed at him as he stared at that blanket, the protective barrier he had thoughtlessly tossed aside. Regardless that he had spurned the blonde’s attentions and advances times beyond count, deep inside some part of him had enjoyed it. That last little fragment of hope that had managed to survive his cynicism and self loathing had fed upon the blondes continued efforts. And now he had signed his fate with his own hand, tossing aside that one, slim chance at happiness and love alongside his blanket. Facial muscles moved, contorting as though in pain and eyes closed, hiding the tears that threatened to spill forth and betray him. A fool, such a fool.

Glorfindel sensed the dark elf’s pain and turmoil but could not bring himself to move, froby sby shock at the naked form before him. The torso was covered in… he was loath to say tattoos as there was neither form nor artistic design to the pattern. In fact upon closer inspection he would have thought that the marks more resembled scars, but for the dark color of black ink that stained the lines marring the skin, showing that they had been deliberately colored. But why? And by who?

The loud popping of a log broke the silence and sparks flew upwards. Erestors eyes flew open, alighting once again on the blanket near his feet, and he moved to retrieve it, intending to conceal his body once more.

He grasped the blanket and pulled it towards him, the motion halted by another hand folded over his and dark brown eyes met blue and he held his breath for what was to come.

A strong arm rose up, the muscles of chest, shoulder and bicep shifting beneath creamy skin. Perfect, flawless skin, so unlike his own.

Erestor sucked in a short breath, holding perfectly still as that perfect arm slowly rose up to circle behind him, gently drawing him forward until his body, his marred and hideous body, made contact with the one before him. And he closed his eyes, letting the moment linger, unsure what course of action to take now.

“Erestor…” A soft sighing sound, one that tickled the hair at his temple and stirred something within.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The two elves sat by the fire, watching the flames of the fire dance before them, Erestor once again hidden beneath the blanket, curled comfortably against the solid form at his side, a strong arm draped around his shoulders as a hand rubbed soothing circles through the wool.

Erestor chewed his lower lip, knowing that he needed to speak, to give an explanation, though one had not yet been requested. He needed to tell Glorfindel. It was just finding which words to say… and how to start.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


It happened so fast. The attack, the fighting, the blow to the head. Ow. Ah yes, the pain was still there, splicing in sharp waves through his skull. He was alive then.

Erestor opened his eyes and stared at the blank white canvas above him. A tent. He strained against the ropes that bound him upon the wooden table while at the same time taking in his surroundings. He was alone. Where were the others, where was Essilon? They had been fighting together, Essilon had been at his back…no! If he had been struck from behind then Essilon had fallen.

Erestor felt terror grip him. Had he been captured? Or killed? He refused to think on it and instead concentrated on escaping, futile though it seemed with the ropes being knotted so well. Stop thinking of it! Essilon, his sweet Essilon was fine.

A sound outside the tent caused Erestor to halt his movement and stare warily at the entrance, watching as the flap was pulled back and a tall, dark haired figure ducked inside.

“Essilon.” Erestor felt relief flood his being as he whispered the name, but the smile that started to curve the edges of his mouth upwards faltered at the dark figure look directed at him with piercing hazel eyes. “Essilon?”

Erestor began to worry as his companion made no move towards him, merely staring, the intense gaze beginning to unnerve him.

“Essilon… untie me.”

“Now why would I do a thing like that?”

“Essilon?”

“You’re so sweet in you naiveté, Erestor my love.”

And Erestor felt his heart sink and his stomach turn as the severity of the situation registered. They had been betrayed. He had been betrayed, and by one he had thought loved him.


“Why Essilon?”

“Perhaps the question is why not?”

Erestor glared at the dark elf that he had only just recently called inamorato.

“Ah Erestor, there are so many reasons; personal, monetary, amusement… indeed the list is endless.” Essilon moved around the prone from on the table, an unholy glint in his eye. “And in truth we are not here to discuss my reasons for… changing sides, so to speak.”

“Betrayer!”

“Tut tut.” A wagging finger was waved be hie his face. “Do you not wish to know why we are here?”

“I can hazard a guess. Torture.”

“You would be correct. Now as the trusted guard and advisor to the King you have… information that would be invaluable to my people. Now I know our relationship never really had time to… progress before this war rose up, bad timing wouldn’t you say? One would have thought that you would be a bit more revealing with you beloved considering we are comrades in arms and both guards to the royal family. But you were always so tight lipped about things such as that.”

“Apparently with good reason. I will tell you nothing.” Erestor watched his love slowly pace about the tent.

“Ah, this I know. You do not become one of the elite without being able to endure a fair amount of pain. I have of course advised my superiors of this as well, but they still wished for me to at least try. Not that I object mind you, I’m rather good at this torture business.”

“And yet we both know it will get you no where.”

“Perhaps, perhaps not. You could join me.”

Erestor stared in horror and incredulity at the one elf he had thought to gift his heart too. His response, when he spoke, was vehement and filled with loathing. “Never!”

“Oh come now Erestor, are you not the one who professed his love for meroclroclaimed me the ‘keeper of his heart’?”

Erestor remained silent as Essilon turned to him, a barely controlled fury dancing in his hazel eyes. “You loved me so very much, yet you continually refused me?”

“Essilon, do not do this.”

“I never pushed Erestor. Not once did I pressure you to come to my bed. I was content to wait, but one can only wait so long, my heart.”

“Essilon…”

“You claim to love me, but never deigned to prove it. Prove it now. Join me.”

tor tor felt sick and he closed his eyes against the madness that was his love.

“Join me.”

“No!”

A barking laugh. “You will regret it, denying me.”

“Never. Do your worst.”

“Oh I will do much more than that. Physical pain does only so much. Scars would eventually heal and fade, maybe not completely but you would be able to forget the pain… but you will never forget me, I promise you this, my love. I promise you!”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


“He was right. I never forgot him. One can almost forget such things without reminders, but this…” Erestor moved the blanket to bare his shoulder and the wicked marks upon it. “This shall ever remind me.”

“How..?”

“After each blow was struck he poured ink into the wound, forever staining my skin. A scar would have faded, been less… conspicuous… but this…”

He trailed of, staring once again into the fire. “Twas all he could do to leave an imprint of himself upon me, he did not want me dead or dying so he could not take my body in the way he desired… but he succeeded none the less in leaving a permanent memory etched into my mind and my skin. I am a freak among my kin. A scarred, hideous creature surrounded by a race of beings who greatly prize beauty and grace.”

“You are not hideous!” What ever else he would have said was cut of by Erestors cynical laugh.

“Please, spar me your pity Glorfindel. You are not the first to c me, me, you are merely the first who did not either flee or lose his dinner at the site of me.”

Glorfindel tightened his embrace around the rigid elf in his arms. “Erestor…”

“So now you know.”

TBC…