Erestor's Torment
folder
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
21
Views:
6,977
Reviews:
21
Recommended:
2
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
21
Views:
6,977
Reviews:
21
Recommended:
2
Currently Reading:
1
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.
A Long Dark Road
Title: Erestor's Torment Ct.18
Type: FP
Author: Iamme
Cast: Erestor
Rating: NC-17
Beta: Alex & Belle Bayard
Warnings: Torture, Violence, possible Non-Con, AU. It’s morbid. If you find such things offensive then don’t read it.
Disclaimer: It’s not mine it belongs to Tolkien.
Summary: Erestor is taken prisoner by dark elves.
Authors Note: I have been short on time and have not had a chance to correct my stories since the glich. If you need to find the earlier Cts go to www.ofelvesandmen.com. I will try to get them fixed soon. Thanks also to those who have reviewed this fic has been an intersting expirence.
Elrond stood looking down at Lindir. By the time he had reached the healing halls, Lindir had been heavily drugged. Healers worked to remove the dagger that could have easily killed him. He had known the Elf a long time and never thought him capable of the crime his fellow Elves accused him of doing. Elrond took a deep breath and turned away, heading for the other room. There, another Elf would probably not survive the night. Yet, his death might not be in vain. Had he been able to get to the guardian sooner, he might have stood a better chance. Elrond shook his head at the waste of life and steeled himself before opening the door.
As he walked over to the young guardian, Elrond remembered his enthusiasm at being allowed to join the ranks of his fellows. The Elf lord knelt beside the bed where the patient lay, shivering and staring at the ceiling. Pulling the blanket back, he lifted the bandage. His assistants had been right. Soon, this Elf would walk the halls of Mandos, though not soon enough to spare him great pain.
“Anatolis, I am sorry to see you here,” he said softly. “I wish this had not happened. However, I need your help so that no others will suffer the same pain as you and your family.”
The younger Elf licked his lips and nodded. “What do you need of me, my lord?”
Elrond looked down a moment before meeting the dying soldier’s eyes. “Glorfindel told me some disturbing things about Lindir. Things he said you told him.”
Anatolis nodded weakly. “Aye, I did. Lindir set us up, my lord. He has been giving them information. I do not know what he told them, but I know someone gave him a potion for your son. Afterwards, his cohorts beat him senseless and poured something into his mouth. They… they also took the youngest two amongst us.” He grimaced. “They had never been out before. There should have been no danger. Now the Valar alone know how they fare.”
Elrond nodded and sighed heavily. “Thank you for telling me this. I will give you something to ease your pain. Your family will be here soon. I am sorry I cannot do more for you.”
Anatolis swallowed hard, closing his eyes. “Tis, not your fault, my lord. I am not afraid to join my fellow guardians. ‘Tis only fair.”
Elrond disagreed, but he kept it to himself. He rose, collected the appropriate powders from the shelf, and mixed them with a strong alcoholic potion. Once finished, he helped Anatolis drink it. He should not be in such pain when his family joined him. If lucky, he would not see the morning. If not, he might linger for two to three days. Elrond spoke quietly to Anatolis’s parents, telling them of their son’s fate and apologizing to them before quietly leaving.
Within minutes, he had the unconscious Lindir chained to his bed with mithril manacles. The former minstrel would pay for what he had done and if their luck held, they would extract the information from him before more tragedy occurred. For now, he needed to get Morcorban to the Havens. Rubbing his weary eyes, Elrond feared too much needed doing in a short time. Would it be worth sending Morcorban such a long distance? What if the Valar refused to allow him entrance to Valinor? It would not be the first time that had happened. Still, Elrond knew that decision was not his decision to make. At least he had tried to save the Elf instead of killing him. He had not stooped to kinslaying and he prayed the Valar would never have reason to do refuse him entry someday.
In the main part of the house, Celebrian checked once again that the servants had packed all they would need for their journey to Lothlorien. When she finished, she checked on Arwen, who had retired early. Closing the door quietly to not awaken her daughter, Celebrian considered the trip before them. Her mother would make certain that only the best of the Galadhrim would meet them halfway. Elrond would allow no less on Imladris’ end, so their journey should go smoothly. She wished her Elf lord could join her for their last night together. Years would pass before they saw each other again, but with the latest troubles, he had been terribly busy. Though lonely, she would do her best to rest. She wanted to take her sons as well, but Elrond said they needed to stay and learn more of their duties. When she reminded him that her parents also ruled a realm, they reached a compromise. He would send them in one year, riding with them to spend some time in the Golden Wood. She had agreed, ending the argument though she did not look forward to leaving them behind. With a sigh, she returned to their rooms and settled into the bed. She hugged Elrond’s pillows close and slipped into dream.
Elrond prepared medicines that would hopefully keep Morcoban alive. He felt certain the only thing that kept Morcorban with them had been the potions fed him for so many years that had stopped him from fading. He had added something to keep him in a constant state of sleep to conserve his energy. Since the Elf could not feed himself, the healer had to figure out how to nourish the Elf over such a long journey. Looking over his equipment, he considered a slender tube that he used to transfer small portions of liquids form one container to another. However, the problem revolved around its fragile nature. If placed in Morcorban’s mouth and he involuntarily bit down it could break, causing no end of other problems. Elrond experimented, sliding it through the unconscious Elf’s nose and tying it off with a strip of cloth at the proper angle. He could have wished for something better, but he believed it would work. He would have to train those going with him to use a funnel to pour in a liquid grain mixture. Though crude, it might keep him alive. At least, he hoped so.
He wrapped him tightly in blankets and poured some medicines into him through the tube to help him heal physically. He could do nothing for the broken mind. Finally, he tied Morcorban down so that should he for some reason wake, he would not be able to move and hurt himself. Once done, he turned to the other tasks he must finish.
First, he arranged the escort for his wife and daughter, and then for Morcorban. He checked on Lindir, who seemed just fine. Across the hall lay Anatolis. As Elrond entered the room, he realized the mortally injured Elf had mercifully slipped into unconsciousness from which he most likely would never wake. Elrond sat in a chair near the dying Elf and waited with his family. Dawn neared as Anatolis’ breathing became shallower and shallower. Just before Anor’s light broke, he drew his last shuddering breath. Elrond covered the body and sang a quiet lament with the grieving family, leaving them to cleanse the body for the funeral. He had just enough time to bathe before his wife would wake. His day would soon begin again, though it had not truly ended.
Exhausted, Elrond pulled on fresh clothing and then joined his wife and children for breakfast. He embraced Celebrian and Arwen, and then watched as two bands of Elves headed out from Imladris. They parted in two different directions, but their reason remained the same. They wished to try to outrun the darkness closing in on all of them.
Type: FP
Author: Iamme
Cast: Erestor
Rating: NC-17
Beta: Alex & Belle Bayard
Warnings: Torture, Violence, possible Non-Con, AU. It’s morbid. If you find such things offensive then don’t read it.
Disclaimer: It’s not mine it belongs to Tolkien.
Summary: Erestor is taken prisoner by dark elves.
Authors Note: I have been short on time and have not had a chance to correct my stories since the glich. If you need to find the earlier Cts go to www.ofelvesandmen.com. I will try to get them fixed soon. Thanks also to those who have reviewed this fic has been an intersting expirence.
Elrond stood looking down at Lindir. By the time he had reached the healing halls, Lindir had been heavily drugged. Healers worked to remove the dagger that could have easily killed him. He had known the Elf a long time and never thought him capable of the crime his fellow Elves accused him of doing. Elrond took a deep breath and turned away, heading for the other room. There, another Elf would probably not survive the night. Yet, his death might not be in vain. Had he been able to get to the guardian sooner, he might have stood a better chance. Elrond shook his head at the waste of life and steeled himself before opening the door.
As he walked over to the young guardian, Elrond remembered his enthusiasm at being allowed to join the ranks of his fellows. The Elf lord knelt beside the bed where the patient lay, shivering and staring at the ceiling. Pulling the blanket back, he lifted the bandage. His assistants had been right. Soon, this Elf would walk the halls of Mandos, though not soon enough to spare him great pain.
“Anatolis, I am sorry to see you here,” he said softly. “I wish this had not happened. However, I need your help so that no others will suffer the same pain as you and your family.”
The younger Elf licked his lips and nodded. “What do you need of me, my lord?”
Elrond looked down a moment before meeting the dying soldier’s eyes. “Glorfindel told me some disturbing things about Lindir. Things he said you told him.”
Anatolis nodded weakly. “Aye, I did. Lindir set us up, my lord. He has been giving them information. I do not know what he told them, but I know someone gave him a potion for your son. Afterwards, his cohorts beat him senseless and poured something into his mouth. They… they also took the youngest two amongst us.” He grimaced. “They had never been out before. There should have been no danger. Now the Valar alone know how they fare.”
Elrond nodded and sighed heavily. “Thank you for telling me this. I will give you something to ease your pain. Your family will be here soon. I am sorry I cannot do more for you.”
Anatolis swallowed hard, closing his eyes. “Tis, not your fault, my lord. I am not afraid to join my fellow guardians. ‘Tis only fair.”
Elrond disagreed, but he kept it to himself. He rose, collected the appropriate powders from the shelf, and mixed them with a strong alcoholic potion. Once finished, he helped Anatolis drink it. He should not be in such pain when his family joined him. If lucky, he would not see the morning. If not, he might linger for two to three days. Elrond spoke quietly to Anatolis’s parents, telling them of their son’s fate and apologizing to them before quietly leaving.
Within minutes, he had the unconscious Lindir chained to his bed with mithril manacles. The former minstrel would pay for what he had done and if their luck held, they would extract the information from him before more tragedy occurred. For now, he needed to get Morcorban to the Havens. Rubbing his weary eyes, Elrond feared too much needed doing in a short time. Would it be worth sending Morcorban such a long distance? What if the Valar refused to allow him entrance to Valinor? It would not be the first time that had happened. Still, Elrond knew that decision was not his decision to make. At least he had tried to save the Elf instead of killing him. He had not stooped to kinslaying and he prayed the Valar would never have reason to do refuse him entry someday.
In the main part of the house, Celebrian checked once again that the servants had packed all they would need for their journey to Lothlorien. When she finished, she checked on Arwen, who had retired early. Closing the door quietly to not awaken her daughter, Celebrian considered the trip before them. Her mother would make certain that only the best of the Galadhrim would meet them halfway. Elrond would allow no less on Imladris’ end, so their journey should go smoothly. She wished her Elf lord could join her for their last night together. Years would pass before they saw each other again, but with the latest troubles, he had been terribly busy. Though lonely, she would do her best to rest. She wanted to take her sons as well, but Elrond said they needed to stay and learn more of their duties. When she reminded him that her parents also ruled a realm, they reached a compromise. He would send them in one year, riding with them to spend some time in the Golden Wood. She had agreed, ending the argument though she did not look forward to leaving them behind. With a sigh, she returned to their rooms and settled into the bed. She hugged Elrond’s pillows close and slipped into dream.
Elrond prepared medicines that would hopefully keep Morcoban alive. He felt certain the only thing that kept Morcorban with them had been the potions fed him for so many years that had stopped him from fading. He had added something to keep him in a constant state of sleep to conserve his energy. Since the Elf could not feed himself, the healer had to figure out how to nourish the Elf over such a long journey. Looking over his equipment, he considered a slender tube that he used to transfer small portions of liquids form one container to another. However, the problem revolved around its fragile nature. If placed in Morcorban’s mouth and he involuntarily bit down it could break, causing no end of other problems. Elrond experimented, sliding it through the unconscious Elf’s nose and tying it off with a strip of cloth at the proper angle. He could have wished for something better, but he believed it would work. He would have to train those going with him to use a funnel to pour in a liquid grain mixture. Though crude, it might keep him alive. At least, he hoped so.
He wrapped him tightly in blankets and poured some medicines into him through the tube to help him heal physically. He could do nothing for the broken mind. Finally, he tied Morcorban down so that should he for some reason wake, he would not be able to move and hurt himself. Once done, he turned to the other tasks he must finish.
First, he arranged the escort for his wife and daughter, and then for Morcorban. He checked on Lindir, who seemed just fine. Across the hall lay Anatolis. As Elrond entered the room, he realized the mortally injured Elf had mercifully slipped into unconsciousness from which he most likely would never wake. Elrond sat in a chair near the dying Elf and waited with his family. Dawn neared as Anatolis’ breathing became shallower and shallower. Just before Anor’s light broke, he drew his last shuddering breath. Elrond covered the body and sang a quiet lament with the grieving family, leaving them to cleanse the body for the funeral. He had just enough time to bathe before his wife would wake. His day would soon begin again, though it had not truly ended.
Exhausted, Elrond pulled on fresh clothing and then joined his wife and children for breakfast. He embraced Celebrian and Arwen, and then watched as two bands of Elves headed out from Imladris. They parted in two different directions, but their reason remained the same. They wished to try to outrun the darkness closing in on all of them.