Nightmare in the Woods

Title: Nightmare in the Woods
Author: Aglaia
Pairing: Glorfindel/Erestor
Disclaimer: I own nothing, everything belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.
Notes: I had no beta reader for this and English is not my first language so I’m sorry for any grammar and spelling mistakes.
Summary: Glorfindel and Erestor decides to take an evening ride in the woods but things goes terribly wrong.

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For an agonizing moment everything stood still when Erestor, shocked, found himself on the ground looking up on the orcs surrounding him. They seemed just as surprised as he was, and the dark-haired elf quickly used the opportunity to grab the dagger in his boot and get to his feet. It pained him some and he probably had quite a few bruises, but he didn’t think he had hurt himself too badly. The motion seemed to bring the orcs out of their stupor, and with a collected shout they drew their weapons. Even though it felt hopeless, Erestor placed himself in the fighting position he learned so long ago. The orcs probably sensed his insecurity and didn’t seem to see him as much of a threat to them. One large orc with a nasty scar over its right eye stepped forward from the group which now surrounded him. Erestor assumed he was their leader.

“Well, what do we have here? A lost little elf, it would seem,” the foul looking orc said with a spiteful sneer. Erestor only glared at him in reply. “I think we could have some fun with you tonight.” He showed his yellow and pointy teeth in a malicious grin and the group of orcs around him agreed excitedly. “Take him,” he ordered. “But make sure he’s alive.”

When the first orc plunged towards him Erestor instinctively raised his knife. With a quick motion he sliced the creature and swirled around to meet the orcs approaching from behind. He managed to sidestep the blow directed at him just in time and kick the attacking orc in the ribs, but the time of distraction gave the other assailants an opening. A hard blow to his wrist knocked the dagger out of his now useless hand. Erestor gasped at the pain but quickly found himself in time to dodge a blade coming unnervingly close to him.

“I said don’t kill him, you fool!” he heard the leader orc shout angrily.

A powerful hit to his face had his head spinning, and he fell to the ground were he received a painful kick in the ribs that had him gasping for breath. He tried to rise, but someone kicked him over on his back. He squinted up at the leader orc which now had his boot placed at Erestor’s throat, holding him down and making it hard to breathe properly. He tried to draw a shaky breath, but didn’t manage to get much air into his burning lungs because of the restricting foot. He panicked slightly and tried to move the offending boot away, but it only pressed down harder.

“Not so high and mighty anymore, are we?” the leader orc said mockingly while leering down at him. “Get something to bind him with,” he ordered.

The boot finally left his throat and let him take a much needed breath, but the relief was short-lived when another blow to his stomach made him cry out. He was rolled over to his stomach and a sharp blade was pressed to his neck while brutal hands brought his wrist together behind his back. Erestor couldn’t stop himself from crying out softly when they jostled his hurting wrist, which earned him cruel laughter from the surrounding orcs. Coarse ropes dug into his skin and his wrists were bound together painfully tight. He squirmed to relieve the stress on his arms, but stopped when he felt the blade at his neck break his skin and the orc holding it hissed in his ear.

“Be still, or I will remove that pretty little head from your body.”

When his hands were securely bound behind his back the leader orc grasped his hair in a firm grip and dragged him up on his feet. Erestor winced but said nothing, gritting his teeth together. He tried his best not to show the rising fear he felt and stared boldly back at the disgusting orc.

“My, my, aren’t you a pretty little thing.” Erestor felt the foul breath hit his face and nearly gagged at the smell. He tried to back away but the painfully hard grip in his hair prevented it, and to his dismay he was drawn even closer. “I think we will have fun tonight,” the orc said with a grin, and stroked a clawed finger along Erestor’s cheek. He shuddered and tried once again to put some distance between him and the orc before him, desperately hoping it was all a nightmare.

“Don’t touch me!” He cried out and jerked his head away the best he could, then did the only thing he could think of and spat in the orc’s face. Come to think about it, that probably wasn’t such a good idea when he saw the anger in the leader orc’s eyes. He was violently backhanded and felt his lip split open. He landed hard on his back, crushing his hands behind him, his head connecting violently with the ground and making him even more dizzy. Instantly he felt rough hands roaming all over his body and ripping at his clothes. Some of the claws cut into his flesh and left a stinging sensation. Erestor let out a shrill scream at the sudden turn of events and tried to clear his spinning head.

“Stop it, wait for you turn, I will have him first,” the gruff voice of the leader roared, and the groping hands suddenly disappeared.

Erestor felt relief wash over him. Even though he knew it would only be short lived, any respite from those wandering hands was a gift to him. He took the opportunity to tug fiercely at the ropes binding him, trying to loosen them in some way. But they only cut deeper into his already torn wrists and he felt blood trickle down his numb hands. His injured wrist throbbed agonizingly after its harsh treatment. The leader orc was suddenly on top of him and efficiently pressed him down to the ground with his weight. Erestor’s breath was laboured and he fearfully looked up at the leering orc on top of him, which ever so slowly leaned down over him.

“Come on, scream for me now,” he whispered mockingly in his ear, and a black tongue suddenly licked a wet line along his jaw.

Erestor’s eyes grew wide and he tried to jerk away from the offending tongue, but the orc had once again taken hold of his hair and kept his head in place. The last pieces of his tunic were ripped off him and the groping hand travelled along his torso until it reached his face, were it took a firm grip of his chin, digging its nail into his soft skin. The hard grip forced his mouth open and a tongue suddenly plundered his mouth. Erestor was beyond panic now, he flailed and kicked with all his might at the orc on top of him. He gagged at the disgusting taste and made muffled protests at the horrible invasion, but the tongue would not stop.

An unexpected roar from behind made the cheering orcs look up abruptly, and the vile tongue finally left Erestor’s mouth. Gasping, he turned his face away when the hand around his jaw loosened and he coughed weakly, trying to get the awful taste out of his mouth. With loud screeches the foul creature drew their weapons around him and Erestor searched the surroundings for this new threat that had them so upset. The grip in his hair was still there but the leader orc was getting up from him, to the elf’s great relief. However, soon after he was dragged along but his legs felt wobbly underneath him and he would probably have fallen to the ground if it wasn’t for the tight hold on his hair that made such a thing impossible. At least it was easier for him to look around when he wasn’t pinned to the ground anymore.

What he saw made his heart leap with joy at the same time that dread filled him. Glorfindel was marching towards them with his sword raised and so much anger blazing in his eyes it almost scared Erestor, even though he knew it wasn’t directed at him.

Of course he wanted the golden warrior to take him away from this living nightmare, but there was still the distressing fact that it was just him against too many orcs. He was brought out of his musing when he was violently pushed against another orc.

“Take care of him,” the leader orc ordered and drew his scimitar.

The orc behind him grabbed his arms in an iron grip and its claw slashed his unprotected skin on his upper arms. But Erestor didn’t really notice; he had all his attention focused on the elf now fast approaching. He was going to get himself killed and it would be entirely his fault, he thought fearfully. He met the warrior’s eyes for but a second and saw the determination written in them. Erestor knew that Glorfindel wouldn’t have backed down now even if it was the whole army of Mordor facing him.

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The cheering sounds of the orcs grew louder and Glorfindel finally saw them through the thick woods. The wargs were nowhere in sight and the whole group of orcs stood gathered around something. With growing fear he quickly climbed a tree to get a better look at the situation instead of just marching in there, which actually felt more appealing at the moment. A muffled sound that did not sound anything like an orc was carried over the shouts. He leaned forward on his branch and what he saw made his heart stop. In the middle of the crowd lay Erestor with a large orc on top of him, which was forcing his tongue down the squirming elf’s throat.

To find his dear Erestor violated by these vile creatures made Glorfindel’s blood boil with anger. With a roar he leaped from the tree, and as soon as his feet touched the ground he drew his sword. The orcs would pay a painful price for what they had done to his sweet Erestor.

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Erestor watched in horror as the first orc attacked Glorfindel and clumsily tried to stab him. It was easily dodged by the warrior, but he was quickly surrounded by the others. However, the fight actually went fairly well for the blond elf and Erestor saw the leader orc standing fidgeting by the side, not looking too pleased at the development. But when a blade caught Glorfindel’s left arm he grinned and Erestor cried out, hoping it was nothing too serious. However, the warrior didn’t even seem to notice it and if anything, he actually looked more determined as he swiftly killed the orc that had sliced his arm.

When another orc was killed by the golden elf’s relentless blade the leader orc put his scimitar back in its scabbard with a curse. He irritably strode over and grabbed Erestor by the hair again, wrenching him out of the other orc’s grip. The dark-haired elf’s head was pulled back, leaving his throat vulnerable and a small but sharp dagger was pressed against it.

Erestor stilled any motions as the leader orc shouted out. “Stop!”

The orcs looked up and eventually Glorfindel as well when he noticed his opponents had stopped fighting. What he saw made him freeze instantly.

“Put down your sword or I will not hesitate to slit his throat,” the leader orc snarled.

Glorfindel lowered his sword but did not drop it. “Let him go, or you’ll regret it,” he demanded in a low dangerous voice which spoke of certain death for the orc.

To Erestor’s satisfaction he actually felt the orc shudder, but he gasped when the knife was pressed harder against his skin and he sensed a thin trail of blood make its way down his throat.

“Put down the sword, now!” the orc roared.

Erestor knew if he did then both of them would surely die. He would rather have a quick death now, with the hope of Glorfindel’s survival, instead of seeing him killed unarmed and afterwards be violated by these creatures.

“No, don’t you dare drop it Glorfindel! Fight for me instead, don’t let them take you so easily,” he desperately cried out.

“Be quiet!” his captor angrily hissed in his ear and tugged at his hair.

Glorfindel stood undecided and met Erestor’s eyes with a pained expression. He was breathing deeply from the fight, all adrenaline seemed to have left his body. The dark-haired elf tried to look calm for him, but the truth was that he was both terrified and exhausted. His whole body hurt and his legs felt like they wouldn’t be able to carry him for much longer. When he saw Glorfindel lowering his sword further he tried to plead with his eyes to make the warrior stop.

But suddenly he felt the grip on his hair loosen, and his captor slid to the ground behind him with a thump. First it was a shocked silence, but Glorfindel quickly found his senses and attacked the nearest orc with a growl. That seemed to wake the other orcs from their trancelike staring at their leader’s death, but they were soon cut down by the group of warriors who suddenly crowded the glade. At the sight Erestor slid to the ground, not having the power to support himself any longer and feeling a great relief overwhelm him. He saw the orc lying behind him on the ground with an arrow protruding from his back, his eyes staring lifelessly in front him. Erestor closed his eyes and looked away from the sight.

Glorfindel came running towards the petite elf sitting hunched on the ground, trusting his warriors to take care of the few orcs left. He was appalled by Erestor’s miserable condition. His half naked body was filled with cuts and bruises and a big black eye covered the left side of his pale face. The dark hair was in a disarrayed state and hung in tangles over his face, almost concealing it. He angrily kicked the leader orc’s body away from Erestor and carefully kneeled in front of the almost apathetic elf.

“Erestor,” he murmured and caressed the unbruised cheek, not sure if he should smile or cry at the sight before him. The touch seemed to at least bring the elf out of his trancelike state. He flinched and looked up at Glorfindel.

“Glorfindel,” he whispered with obvious relief written in his eyes, then suddenly frowned. “You’re hurt,” he stated looking at the warrior’s bloody arm.

Glorfindel almost smiled at his worry. “I’m fine, it’s just a scratch. I’m much more worried about you right now, love.” He drew his dagger from its scabbard. “Sit still so I can cut your bonds.”

He carefully cut the ropes from the Erestor’s torn and bloodied wrists. A whimper escaped his lips when the blood flow returned to his probably numb hands. Glorfindel helped him get the circulation going by gently massaging his wrists and hands while at the same time trying to avoid the injured skin and the very swollen right wrist.

“What happened?” he inquired, meaning the swollen wrist which he carefully took in his hands.

“Someone kicked my knife out of my hand.”

“Were did you get a knife from?” he asked, surprised by the answer.

“I always carry one in my boot,” Erestor replied with a weak smile

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” Glorfindel said lovingly and embraced the small elf uncertainly, wondering if the close contact was welcome, but to his relief the hug was returned. He had been so scared to loose this precious elf and it felt good to hold him in his arms again. He heard a muffled sob coming from Erestor so he held him tighter and stroked his head. “Sshh, everything is well now.”

Amran, one of his warriors, approached them after some time. He still was a little confused as to how they had found them, but those questions could wait until later.

“They are all dead now, Captain.”

Glorfindel carefully freed himself from the tight embrace but still held Erestor close. “Good, but there are still their wargs left. I want you to take a group of warriors and take care of them first thing in the morning.”

“Of course.” Amran seemed to take in their appearance, Erestor with his bare upper body and Glorfindel with torn clothes and a blood-spattered arm. He kneeled next to his Captain and with a piece of cloth bound his arm. He then took off his cloak which he handed to Erestor, who accepted it with a coy “thank you”.

After seeing that none of them were seriously hurt Amran stood up to leave, sensing their need for privacy. “I will go get your horse.”

“Asfaloth?” Glorfindel had wondered what happened to his horse, seeing as Erestor wasn’t with him anymore.

“Yes, it’s how we found you; he led us here when we were returning from our patrol at the southern border.” Looking over both of them he added, “I will send word for our return and have the healers ready.”

Glorfindel nodded his thanks before Amran went to join the other warriors. When he turned to Erestor again, the warrior found him struggling to get the cloak around him because of his injured wrist. With a small smile he stopped the dark elf’s fumbling and helped him wrap the cloak around him. He took a corner of it and gently dried away some tears and the blood that was smeared over his face from his split lip. He had noticed that Erestor’s breathing seemed a little stressed and he lightly traced his fingers along the ribs.

“Does it hurt when you breathe?” he questioned.

“Some, it’s difficult to take deep breaths.”

“I think you have a couple of cracked ribss and by the size of your bruises it doesn’t surprise me. When we get back we will get them wrapped and it will be easier for you to breathe. Do you think you can handle it until then?”

“Aye, I will be alright.”

“If it gets too painful or hard to breathe you must tell me.”

Erestor merely nodded and once again nestled in to his arms, leaning heavily against his chest.

“How are you feeling, love?” he asked worriedly.

“I’m tired, and a bit dizzy,” Erestor mumbled into his chest.

After a long silence, when Glorfindel almost thought the dark-haired elf in his arm had fallen asleep, he suddenly spoke. “You knocked me unconscious.”

He winced at the memory. “Aye. I’m so sorry Erestor, I understand if you angry with me.” He gently traced his fingers along the back of the advisor’s head, searching for the lump he was sure to find there. He grimaced guiltily when he found the little bump. “Does it hurt a lot?”

“No, not really, if you compare it to everything else. It didn’t work though, you should have hit me harder.”

The warrior stiffened and tried to apologise again but the Councillor stopped him.

“Glorfindel, don’t worry, I’m not angry with you. I was, but not anymore. Although I would have preferred a better method, I kind of understand why you did it. I didn’t want to see you get hurt either.”

“Just don’t do it again,” he added after a moment.

“I promise,” Glorfindel said with a small smile, relieved that Erestor wasn’t mad at him.

At that time Asfaloth came trotting over to them and nudged him in the shoulder. “Hi there. We owe you a lot, my friend. I promise to bring you some juicy apples tomorrow, how about that?”

“Yes, we certainly are in your debts.” Erestor reached forward and stroked Asfaloth’s muzzle affectionately. “Were would your master be without you?” he added with a teasing grin.

Glorfindel tried to look offended but failed miserably. He gathered Erestor in his arms as he stood up. He helped the dark elf up on the horse’s back, who willingly took the offered assistance without any protest. ‘He must be really tired,’ the warrior thought, concerned as he sat up behind him. The other elves had mounted their horses as well after gathering the corpses in a pile which would be burned in the morning.

“Are we ready to leave?” Glorfindel inquired.

“Yes, I sent a couple of warriors to forewarn the healers of our coming.”

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Erestor leaned heavily against Glorfindel’s chest, feeling terribly tired. He had just finished telling the warrior briefly about what had transpired tonight, though he didn’t feel like going in to any details about his captivity at the hands of the orcs. He felt humiliated, and the memories were still too fresh. The blond elf seemed to sense his unease and didn’t question him any further on the subject. He knew Glorfindel was not pleased with him going back to find him, and the dangerous position he had placed himself in. But he said nothing about it, he merely held Erestor tighter when he stammered through his story.

It was pitch-dark outside now and one of the warriors had lit a torch which Erestor now was staring at with sleepy eyes. He snuggled deeper into the cloak that was wrapped around him and tried to take as small breaths as possible and still get the amount of air he needed. He yearned to take a really deep breath, but he knew that it would pain him too much and not be worth it. The ache in his body had managed to keep him awake for this long, but he now found himself slipping away despite the pain. The motion of the horse slowly rocked him to sleep, and finally oblivion found him and he slipped in to painless darkness.

Glorfindel looked down when he felt Erestor go limp in his arms and at last fall into unconsciousness. The ride had not been pleasant for the injured elf and the warrior was glad that he finally gave way to sleep. He wouldn’t say anything, but Glorfindel could tell that the petite elf didn’t feel well at all, both in body and soul.

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Erestor woke up to the feeling of being carried. His whole body ached and with great effort he took a couple of unsteady breaths. He squinted up at the one carrying him and met blue eyes looking down on him.

“Where—” he tried to say, but it came out as a croak.
Glorfindel seemed to understand what it was he was trying to say, however.

“We’re back in Imladris love, and I’m taking you to the healing rooms. You will feel better soon.”
He looked around him and saw it was true, they actually were back and he spotted Elrond walking in front of them. But the next thing he observed had him protesting.

“Your arm Glorfindel, you shouldn’t be carrying me.”

“I said it was just a scratch, now relax and go back to sleep.”
Knowing from experience it was useless to argue, Erestor leaned back and placed his head on Glorfindel’s shoulder. “Fine,” he muttered and soon he was sound asleep again.

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The next couple of days Erestor reluctantly stayed in the healing rooms by the orders of Elrond. Glorfindel was let of the hook easily; the wound on his arm hadn’t been very serious after all and after it had been cleaned and bandaged he was free to go with a promise to rest it for a couple of days. Though Erestor slept away most of the first day, the second he was bored and sat staring out of the window from his bed. He had woken from a nightmare and didn’t dare to close his eyes just yet. Glorfindel would return later in the afternoon; Erestor had shooed him away from the side of his bed a couple of hours ago. He knew the Captain wanted to check up on his warriors and make sure every last trace of the orcs and wargs was cleaned out of Imladris. But he had still been reluctant to leave the advisor’s side, and had hardly done so since their return. Deciding it was better for both of them, Erestor had insisted that Glorfindel should go down to the barracks instead of trying to take care of the matters from the healing rooms, which wasn’t very appreciated by the healers.

But Erestor felt he was on the mend now, and already felt much better than before. After some nagging from his side he would even get to leave the healing wing this evening. However, Elrond of course insisted he would continue his rest and should not return to his work for some time yet. Knowing it was useless to argue with Elrond’s stern healer look he had agreed, just happy to at least be able to move back into his rooms. He fretted a bit over not being able to use his right hand for awhile, but it was much easier to breathe now and his head didn’t throb so painfully anymore. A good night’s sleep had helped the healing process a lot. His exhaustion had sent him into deep slumber at first, but now when his sleep was lighter he had experienced his first disturbing nightmare about the happenings in the woods. The thought of falling asleep again didn’t feel very tempting at all, but despite all that his traitorous eyelids soon grew heavy and he fell into light slumber.

Erestor found himself pinned to the ground by a large sneering orc, his face unnervingly close to his. He cried out at the sight, but all he heard around him was cruel laughter. Rough hands clawed at his body and he felt his clothes tearing, he tried to fight of the invasion but his body felt strangely weak and unresponsive. The orc on top of him suddenly leaned down with bared teeth and bit down at the crookof his neck, breaking the skin. Erestor gasped as he felt warm blood run down his neck.

“What’s wrong sugar, aren’t you enjoying yourself?” the orc chuckled in his ear.

He cried out and shot straight up from the bed. The sudden motion had him whimpering in pain and clutching at his hurting ribs. But before Erestor could fall back on the bed again someone gently caught him in their arms. He fearfully cried out at the sudden contact and flinched away from it.

“Sssh, it’s only me, you’re okay. It was only a dream.” Glorfindel’s soothing voice reached his ears and made him relax into the arms.

“It was so real,” he breathed out, still a little shaken while clutching at the warrior’s tunic just to be sure he was really there.

“You know, you can talk to me when ever you’re ready,” Glorfindel said after awhile, as he rubbed his back soothingly.

“I know, thank you.” He swallowed thickly and added, “For everything.” He felt the arms tightening around him.

“It’s nothing, you came back for me after all. But don’t you ever scare me like that again. I think I’d rather face another balrog.”

Erestor smiled weakly. “I can promise you that I would rather not do something like that again, ever.” He felt tears stinging in his eyes at the memory and he took a shuddering breath.

“Erestor?” Glorfindel inquired worriedly and pushed him away slightly to have a look at him, but the dark elf wouldn’t meet his eyes

“I’m sorry, it’s silly really. I know that it’s all over now and I shouldn’t be thinking of it, but I can still feel their hands upon me and—” A sob he had being trying to hold in escaped his lips. “The memories will just not leave me in peace,” he added quietly as silent tears ran down his face.

“Hush, this is not something I expect for you to forget over a night, Erestor. But I promise you that it will get better in time. We’ll get through this together.”

Erestor just nodded and took a firmer hold on Glorfindel, soaking the warrior’s tunic with tears.

“Glorfindel?” he asked hesitantly.

“Yes?”

“Will you sleep in my rooms tonight? Please.”

Glorfindel lowered him down on the bed. He ran a callused thumb over his dampened cheek and placed a kiss on his brow.

“Of course. Now go back to sleep, I will be here when you wake.”

Glorfindel kept his promise and stayed by his side, and Erestor allowed reverie to take him once again but this time it was restful, all nightmares chased away by the reassuring presence beside him. Not everything was well yet but he knew it would be in time, as long as he had his beloved golden warrior at his side.

The End

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Oh my, wasn't that just a cheesy ending, haha. But that’s all anyway, I hope you liked it! I love reviews and I know you’re reading this so please take some time and tell me what you thought about it. Or I might consider letting Glorfindel chase you with his big sword. ;)

I’m actually writing on the next sequel for this at the moment, for those who have waited for it I can announce that it will contain a lemon. I don’t have much left on it but I have some editing to do so you will have to wait awhile for it. I should have it posted before July ends at least.


Amber Brooke: I’m glad you liked it, thank you very much for your review! I hope you will be pleased with this last chapter.

And thank you to Macheil and Bunny who commented on the prequel to this, ‘A love unknown’, it was nice to know what you thought of it.