Faded Light
folder
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
20
Views:
10,222
Reviews:
26
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
20
Views:
10,222
Reviews:
26
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.
Dark Memories
(For additional notes and disclaimers, please see top of Chapter 1.)
Chapter Two
Dark Memories
He had retreated as far as he could into the wall, as the slaver entered the room, whip in hand.
Bardia had already given the youth a taste of the cruel instrument, but that had been only a sample, and the Man had not yet made full use of his new slave or called in his Breakers...it was the only thought that still made the young elf shrink even further into himself in fear...
Saes...I can't bear this again...his mind screamed.
But his voice still refused to answer him; he could not even plead for whatever mercy this cruel Mortal might be capable of.
He could only shake his head in despair and press deeper into his corner.
"An' why not?" said the Man viciously, "I paid Kebu well enough, an' I aim to get my money's worth. It will be worse, if you continue this defiance."
He cracked his whip for emphasis, as he reached for the Elf's arm, throwing him to the middle of the room.
"I will enjoy beatin' the insolence out a you, pretty one. Soon, you'll learn to obey your betters.”
In a sudden panic, as the Man reached down again the youth kicked his legs out from under him and ran behind a table, putting it between them.
As Bardia came around, he crawled under the table but felt himself pulled by the ankle, as he came out the other side. This time, he landed a hard kick square on the Man's chin and rolled toward the door. But in the moments he struggled with the lock, the Man recovered, irate by now.
Grabbing the elf by his long hair he turned him around, backhanding him several times, before throwing him back down and again reaching for the whip.
A low gasp escaped his lips, as he landed on his still raw back, before he felt the first sting of the whip.
His hands and face were bloody when Bardia stepped away long enough to hurriedly unfasten his own leggings.
Once more the youth tried to retreat, but this time Bardia was ready. Catching his leg, he wrenched it violently back down, as his full weight pinned the Elf, twisting an arm behind his back.
Two more hard blows put an end to the slave's renewed struggles, the Man's other hand tearing open what remained of his Mirkwood warrior's tunic, as the prince closed his eyes and another piece of his soul shattered...
---------------------------------------------------------
Once more he returned to his bleak reality and the king's chambers, and laid a hand lightly on his still-flat stomach, absently trying to settle whatever twinge had brought him back.
Gently stroking his abdomen, for a moment he smiled, suddenly thinking of what he had suspected for several weeks and could no longer deny; even while it filled him with dread of what would happen once his master knew.
He had miscarried before, always early on, and had not believed his abused body able to carry a child successfully.
This time, however, the pregnancy had not gone wrong yet and that frightened him more, knowing firsthand of the whore-masters' cruel methods.
He had refused to believe it in the beginning, but he could no longer; though it still seemed incredible that there was actually a child growing in him...his child; no matter which of his ravishers had sired it.
He had always known of the possibility of course, ever since he was old enough to understand such things...that through his late mother’s line, he or his brother might have inherited the unusual trait of male fertility...
As all Elf parents could, he had quickly begun to feel the growing bond with the infant, which would only become stronger with time. Already he sensed its strong spirit, its stubbornness, if anything like its forebears; a worthy prince or princess of Mirkwood.
But he knew, he was not fit to be an adar. Elves seldom took on a serious lover or planned on starting families until long past the age of a thousand, and here he was, not even half a millennia old, yearning desperately for the comfort of his own father's gentle embrace.
What sort of a parent could he possibly be?
His life was not an environment to which any child should be exposed. And in any case, he told himself, Arya's expensive whores were never permitted to bear a child. The whore-master considered such months to be a waste of his time and of his earnings.
This was the only good thing he had felt in all these empty years. And he was sure that with it, the last of his soul would be ripped away.
TBC...
Elvish Translations:
Saes / Please
Adar, Ada / Father, Dad, Daddy
Dark Memories
He had retreated as far as he could into the wall, as the slaver entered the room, whip in hand.
Bardia had already given the youth a taste of the cruel instrument, but that had been only a sample, and the Man had not yet made full use of his new slave or called in his Breakers...it was the only thought that still made the young elf shrink even further into himself in fear...
Saes...I can't bear this again...his mind screamed.
But his voice still refused to answer him; he could not even plead for whatever mercy this cruel Mortal might be capable of.
He could only shake his head in despair and press deeper into his corner.
"An' why not?" said the Man viciously, "I paid Kebu well enough, an' I aim to get my money's worth. It will be worse, if you continue this defiance."
He cracked his whip for emphasis, as he reached for the Elf's arm, throwing him to the middle of the room.
"I will enjoy beatin' the insolence out a you, pretty one. Soon, you'll learn to obey your betters.”
In a sudden panic, as the Man reached down again the youth kicked his legs out from under him and ran behind a table, putting it between them.
As Bardia came around, he crawled under the table but felt himself pulled by the ankle, as he came out the other side. This time, he landed a hard kick square on the Man's chin and rolled toward the door. But in the moments he struggled with the lock, the Man recovered, irate by now.
Grabbing the elf by his long hair he turned him around, backhanding him several times, before throwing him back down and again reaching for the whip.
A low gasp escaped his lips, as he landed on his still raw back, before he felt the first sting of the whip.
His hands and face were bloody when Bardia stepped away long enough to hurriedly unfasten his own leggings.
Once more the youth tried to retreat, but this time Bardia was ready. Catching his leg, he wrenched it violently back down, as his full weight pinned the Elf, twisting an arm behind his back.
Two more hard blows put an end to the slave's renewed struggles, the Man's other hand tearing open what remained of his Mirkwood warrior's tunic, as the prince closed his eyes and another piece of his soul shattered...
---------------------------------------------------------
Once more he returned to his bleak reality and the king's chambers, and laid a hand lightly on his still-flat stomach, absently trying to settle whatever twinge had brought him back.
Gently stroking his abdomen, for a moment he smiled, suddenly thinking of what he had suspected for several weeks and could no longer deny; even while it filled him with dread of what would happen once his master knew.
He had miscarried before, always early on, and had not believed his abused body able to carry a child successfully.
This time, however, the pregnancy had not gone wrong yet and that frightened him more, knowing firsthand of the whore-masters' cruel methods.
He had refused to believe it in the beginning, but he could no longer; though it still seemed incredible that there was actually a child growing in him...his child; no matter which of his ravishers had sired it.
He had always known of the possibility of course, ever since he was old enough to understand such things...that through his late mother’s line, he or his brother might have inherited the unusual trait of male fertility...
As all Elf parents could, he had quickly begun to feel the growing bond with the infant, which would only become stronger with time. Already he sensed its strong spirit, its stubbornness, if anything like its forebears; a worthy prince or princess of Mirkwood.
But he knew, he was not fit to be an adar. Elves seldom took on a serious lover or planned on starting families until long past the age of a thousand, and here he was, not even half a millennia old, yearning desperately for the comfort of his own father's gentle embrace.
What sort of a parent could he possibly be?
His life was not an environment to which any child should be exposed. And in any case, he told himself, Arya's expensive whores were never permitted to bear a child. The whore-master considered such months to be a waste of his time and of his earnings.
This was the only good thing he had felt in all these empty years. And he was sure that with it, the last of his soul would be ripped away.
TBC...
Elvish Translations:
Saes / Please
Adar, Ada / Father, Dad, Daddy