Grey Mirrors Falling

II

They rode on a track following a lazy stream running by the hillside. The increased coolness of the air told them that they were moving higher up in the landscape, away from the thick forest, approaching the beginning of the mountain terrain.

"I don't think we've chosen this path before..." Elrohir mused.

"No," Elladan replied. "But it seems as good as any other, don't you think?"

Elrohir just nodded in reply, followed a circling hawk with his gaze.

"There are wolves in this mountains," he said at last. "We should keep the fire burning tonight..."

"Sure," Elladan mumbled. Scanning the surrounding wood with his eyes, suddenly feeling slightly disturbed." Elrohir," he mumbled. "There are humans here."

Elrohir's head snapped around to look at his brother. Keen eyes searching the hillside while his nostrils flared, sifting the air for unfamiliar scents.

"...Not very clean ones either..." he said at last. "And the air tastes of blood. These are *evil* men, Elladan."

With renewed caution they motioned their horses down a slope. Their composures tense and alert. Grey eyes narrowed as they caught sight of the shadows moving almost invisible against the hillside, hidden behind slender trunks and cascades of heavy, rust colored leaves.

"They are out hunting...and we are set out to be prey..." Elladan mumbled and followed right behind his brother, motioning the horse gracefully down the winded path.

"How many are they?" Elrohir asked.

"About twenty, I would think..." Elladan tried to count the moving shadows. "They are mere men, Elrohir, we have faced worse perils...it could have been a band of Orcs..."

"Yes..."Elrohir felt strangely nervous, a dark shadow of foreboding threatened to enter his mind, swam close to the outskirts of his consciousness. "But they know these mountains well, Elladan," he continued. "How else could they blend so perfectly? If we had been only men we wouldn't have noticed them..."

"You are uneasy, why is that?" Elladan asked. " We are skilled warriors, a few men wont stand in our way for long."

"No." Elrohir mumbled. "But there's something about these men, this place.... Like nature herself has taken their flavor the theirs, not ours..."

"The ground is fed, that is true." Elladan closed his eyes briefly, tried to sense the earth. Feel her whisper. "Fed with blood..."

"...Something is disrupting the laws..." Elrohir continued. "We cannot trust these woods."

Elladan opened his eyes; a new clarity had come into his eyes. "Should we turn back?" he asked.
"We can't," Elrohir answered calmly. "They are closing in on us."

And truthfully enough Elladan's keen eyes could now make out several more shadows, moving in on their left. His hand never left the hilt of his sword now, he counted the feathers in his quiver as they moved further down, motioning their horses over fallen rocks and scattered branches.

"What are they waiting for?" he said and missed the moment when the heavy branch snapped out of nothing and sent his brother spinning head first down to the ground with a loud, cracking sound.

"Elrohir?" Elladan was down from his horse in an instant. Bent over his brother's still figure. Glazed eyes met his, but he was blinking, awake...not badly injured. "Are you all right?" he asked. Hand still resting on his sword.

"Yes," Elrohir mumbled, an expression of pain flared across his even, beautiful features. "I said we could not trust it. It is taken with these men, deducted."

Elladan reached out a hand.

"Come, let us continue. Can you ride?"

"Yes..." Elrohir got to his feet in a fluid motion, proving his Elven blood. "Is he fine?" He asked, referring to his horse.

"He is fine...just waiting for you," Elladan answered and tried to fight his own urge to steady his stubborn brother. "You *are* in pain," he said. "We should see to it."

"No." Elrohir moved towards his horse. "They are after us, and I do not like the feel of this."

"Neither do I," Elladan argued, moving towards his own horse, noticing that Elrohir limped slightly when he moved, that was most unusual, told him that he was hurt far worse than he would admit. "But we are no good in a fight if you are injured and in pain," he finished his sentence.

"It is already too late," Elladan heard his brother's low voice. "I will just have to do..."

The forest had been silent, and now it betrayed them. Elladan did not know where it came from. Didn't see it until it was too late. The net of heavy leather cords that suddenly dropped down and covered him, ensnared him effectively and made any movements close to impossible. He tried to use his Elven speed and grace to escape it, but the net was set with sharp spikes that cut into his skin and threatened to puncture his eyes if he moved. Some bleeding he could take, but he did fear for his eyes.

"Elrohir!" he cried out in peril and saw that his brother was already there; sword lifted slicing into the flesh of the dark cloaked figures surrounding them. Elladan bent his head and tried to work himself free, he pulled out his dagger without too much effort and started working on the cords, felt it sink into bad smelling human flesh as some of their attackers had thrown themselves on top of him to keep the net, and him, in place. His hand became crimson with warm blood as he continued to struggle, fight for his freedom against the spikes, leather and weight of human bodies. He thought of his bow, left with the horse, the sword he couldn't get to and even if he did, it would not do him much good from his position. He cursed the forest, the men, their bad luck. All the time while working on the cords, protecting his eyes as best as he could from the sharp, piercing pieces of metal.

Suddenly the weight disappeared. Elladan tried to get to his feet but the net was closed around him now, held him in place without human help. And the sight presented to him when he dared to look up made him freeze in motion.

Elrohir stood before him with a pale, pained expression while a fat man with reddish beard held a jeweled dagger to his throat. Elrohir's hands were hidden behind his back, but Elladan could see from the way they were angled that they most likely were bound and secured. He could see that Elrohir breathed heavily. "I am sorry," he mouthed to his twin. His sword lay on the ground; a young, thin man with black teeth picked it up and smiled a satisfied grin to Elladan. Elven blade in human hands. All so wrong. Elladan felt his anger flare back to life, they would pay for this he swore. Pay dearly.

"Get him up," the fat man that held Elrohir commanded and hands covered in thick, leather gloves came to grab his shoulders through the net. Made him rise him to a standing position, made the sharp needlelike blades cut through the fabric of his clothes and pierce his skin. It stung and he realized the blades were poisoned.

"Who are you? Thieves?" Elladan spat in the common tongue.

The fat man looked at him with black, mocking eyes. His fingers were nearly covered with heavy rings set with stones, Elladan noticed. Precious gems that sparkled and almost outshone bri bright red of the man's tunic that showed through the opening of his grey fur cloak. The hood, Elladan saw, was a wolf's head. Complete with amber eyes and canines.

"Can thieves capture Elves?" The man spoke slowly, lingering on every word. His voice was thick like honey. His head swayed slightly, as if he was dazed or taken with wine.

"No," Elladan answered flatly. Felt slightly dizzy himself, no doubt from the poisoned barbs in the net. He searched the scene for their horses, found them in the care of a fat, black haired man with big golden rings dangling from his ears. They were about thirty men, all of them filthy but with surprisingly good clothes. Greasy tangles of unruly hair hung from their scalps and their skin was grey with dirt, but they carried heavy jewelry and fur-lined cloaks. They looked at the brothers with a mixture of curiosity and hostility. A little bit of fear, Elladan thought.

"You can call me Master..." The red bearded spoke to regain his attention. "I am the god of these mountains and woods."

God? If it the situation had been different, Elladan would have laughed. Now he was just standing there, struggling hard to do just that as the poison flooded his blood, made his heart thunder in his chest, his head spin violently. The man must've seen some of his amusement though for suddenly his black gaze sparkled with anger.

"Do you deny that these woods are mine?" The man's eyes widened as he spoke. "Didn't they ensnare you on my bidding? You, the Elves?" Something mocking came into his voice with those last words.

Elladan looked at his brother… his pale skin against the deep blue of his cloak, the black of his hair, and he swallowed hard. The man's dagger glimmered sharp and cruel against his throat and the apparent insanity of its owner was deeply disturbing. He decided to watch his tongue, guard his words carefully so as not to endanger Elrohir further. He thought of his twin's words of how the woods were seduced by blood and realized the man was right. It had ensnared them, betrayed them... given them over to this man, this insane...

"I do not...deny it." Elladan breathed heavily, wetted his lips with his tongue, finding it hard to focus now, and swaying on his feet. Still the sight of Elrohir, his pained expression and the apparent despair in his eyes kept him there. He had to stay conscious, not leave Elrohir alone with them.

The man gave a satisfied smirk, revealing yellowing teeth between thin, bloodless lips. He was a big man and most of it was fat. When he smiled his eyes seemed to disappear in thick folds of greasy skin.

"Let him loose. We want him to walk by himself," he ordered and Elladan felt the heavy net disappear from his shoulders and with it the poisoned pieces of metal. "Take his sword and dagger," the man continued. "And tie him up well, we don't want any surprises...they are clever, the Elves..."

Elladan let his hands be yanked backwards, didn't flinch much when he felt the thick leather ropes being securely fastened around his wrists. His eyes never left his brother; he wondered how hurt he was. How they had gotten to him so fast. They were orc hunters the two of them...warriors...this was not supposed to be possible... should never have happened... He gritted his teeth silently and cursed the tainted ground he stood on. He wondered if it had even put up a struggle before it gave in to this madman's call.

Then began a long march uphill. To begin with, Elladan walked slowly. He felt sick and dizzy from the poison, but surprisingly fast, the effect seemed to disappear. His head became clearer, his body reacted faster. He was led between two big men dressed in leather and wolf fur, both were dark haired and had massive, unruly beards that covered most of their chests. He saw Elrohir's back before him. There were tall men among their capturers, still Elrohir's slender form was like a tower among them, outdid them all not only by his height but by the way he moved, graceful and with a mild glow to his skin. He was lead by the madman, still with the jeweled dagger in his hand, resting now at his side. On the other side of him walked a young man with blond curls, he turned his head from time to time to look at Elladan. Curiosity and triumph mingled on his face...along with something else...a slight worry. Nervousness. He was pretty, for a man, Elladan thought and wondered if he was the Master's son.

They walked through darkness now, as the men didn't seem to care. They might not have Elven sight, but they surely knew the landscape and didn't fear anything in it. At last they saw light between the trunks and soon they reached a clearing with a couple of wooden buildings. Torches burned from holders on the walls and from the hands of those who came to greet them. More men, Elladan noticed, with an old toothless woman and several skinny dogs that instantly rolled over on their backs, presenting their most tender areas to the approaching men.

The Master spoke quickly with them in a dialect Elladan didn't completely understand. He motioned to Elrohir and Elladan with a wide grin on his face that made his eyes disappear again, dipping down into greasy skin. Other eyes stared though, measured them coldly and with slight amusement. Something wasn't right with the way some of them trailed his body with their gazes, it unnerved him, sent cold shivers down his spine. He wondered what they were doing here, the purpose of it all...

As they moved further into the clearing and approached the buildings, Elladan caught sight of a wooden creature standing in the middle of it. It was a carved pole of some dark wood, colored almost black with old and fresh blood. The repulsiveness he felt at the sight of the primitive figure, which he now saw wore a three day old wolf's head as a crown, and the way it oozed power and magic of the darkest kind told Elladan this was the center of it all… where the man built his ties to the surrounding woods.

"What is that?" he asked his guards without thinking, but the one who answered was the master. With an expression worthy of a king showing off his kingdom, he explained with wide gestures.

"This is where they gift me," he said. "This is the image of my being without this human form. By sacrificing their own or other's life to it, they show me how much they love me."

Elladan decided not to argue with his reasoning, he just felt slightly sick. Wondered how the man had come to build himself such illusions. Who had given him the thought to use power such as this. Maybe he was a wizard gone mad. Or more likely, one who'd been a mad wizard's plaything for a while. He didn't sense any power from the man himself...

He decided to make use of the madman's obvious pride and asked in a gentle voice,

"Who are your followers then, Master? Where do they come from?"

The man gave him a suspicious look, doubtlessly looking for signs of mockery or disrespect. Elladan didn't feel any of the sorts. He just felt ill to his core, and afraid. Afraid to think... to wonder, to imagine what was to come.

"They once were peasants and farmers," the man began. "Some of them thieves, hunters and smiths. Then they saw the glory of me. What I could do for them... give them food on the table, rings on their fingers... as everything that passes through this land is mine..." the man continued as they approached the largest building. "My power is for real," the madman bragged. "I can call on the forest and she answers me."

Elladan shook his head silently. He had no problems seeing how weak, short-lived mortals could fall for such trickery, how the man himself could be ensnared by such thoughts of power He wished he could show them Elven power, Elven magic, prove to them that this was not the only way the nature could be tempted to answer ones call. But he knew it wouldn't do, and he could not...as neither he or Elrohir had such gifts. Theirs were the sword and the bow, even if it hadn't helped them much this time...

Suddenly, he noticed some strange bundles hanging from the dark, still forms of the naked trees surrounding the small farm and realized with a start that they were bodies. Fully clothed hanging upside down. "Is that where we are tomorrow?" he wondered. "After having lost our blood to a wooden, dark and unholy god?"

He shrugged and lowered his head before he entered the dark building so he would not collide with the low beam of the doorframe, seeing heaps of bloodied furs and bones lying on the ground nearby. Not all of them looked like animal forms.

"Valar, help us!" he muttered and took a step in on the dirty floor, was instantly overwhelmed by the stench, the sour smoke hurt his eyes and made them water. Elr loo looked back at him. He could see by his expression he was as disgusted and afraid as himself.

They were led between double rows of tables to the wall on the opposite side of the room. This had indeed been a farm once, Elladan realized, as their cloaks were removed and their hands further secured with a loop and forced over their heads so the loop could be slipped over wooden hooks on the wall. Doubtlessly meant for reins and tools for farm keeping. He guessed it had been a hunter's home, built so far up in the land. A hunter with a family and a piece of fertile soil. He wondered where the family was now, if they had abandoned their home or if their souls still lingered there, trapped by a wooden god with a insane human soul. An insane human soul that now took his place in a great wooden chair covered in fur that was placed a bit aside from the tables, like a king's throne. Wolves' heads graced the top of it and measured the brothers across the room with dry and crinkled eyes. Elladan's heart ached for the animals. In front of the wolf throne an iron tray the size of a grown man took up the space, filled with glowing embers and burning wood. That's where all the smoke came from, filling up the room and blackening the walls. Made it dark and the air hard to breathe. There was hole in the roof but very little of the smoke found it's way there, most of it spread like a toxic fog out in the room.

The men took place on benches by the tables and the toothless woman and a couple of old men started to roll in barrels of what smelled like sour wine. The men cheered and loosened wooden cups from their belts. The silent, dead-eyed woman placed trays of dried meat on the tables as well. Most likely she was a whole lot younger than she looked. Elladan wondered where the rest of their women were. Knowing men, he found it highly unlikely that so many men were gathered so far from the low land without any women to keep them company, being in the presence of a mock god or not. The men laughed and talked among each other as their cups were emptied and filled again with light red wine and now also mead as the woman and the men rolled in even more barrels and bottles with more wine, this one a deeper, more Precious kind. The madman didn't eat though. Neither did he drink much. He sat in his chair with the blond boy and his dogs by his feet and stared. Stared at Elladan...and Elrohir.

Elladan turned his head slightly. It was a good distanctweetween them, but he could see Elrohir's heavy breathing. The way his eyes was narrowed with fear.

"Brother..." Elladan said. Trusted the other's pointed ears to pick up the sound through the men's shouting and laughing.

"Yes," Elrohir answered breathlessly, turned grey, worried eyes to him.

"Are you badly hurt?" Elladan asked.

"No. And you, do you still feel the poison?"

"No. What happened when I was trapped?" he asked.

"I was shot with a poisoned arrow," Elrohir answered. "Stupid of me."

"Don't say that, the wood was treacherous. You couldn't help it..."

"Elladan!" Elrohir suddenly interrupted. "I am worried." He said without emotion.

"Me too, brother... me too..."

Silence fell between them as a most peculiar ritual started in front of them. Silence fell and one by one the men left their seats to approach their leader. Kiss his hand and then his mouth after mumbling a short oath.

"What do they say?" Elrohir asked, his knowledge of the common tongue wasn't as great as Elladan's.

"They swear to serve him until the day they willingly die for him..." Elladan answered flatly. Disgusted by the whole scenario, he looked at Elrohir again. Saw how his Elven skin shone like a halo in the smoky room. How beautiful he was...in all this.

"Do you think we'll die now?" He asked calmly.

"I prey to the Valar we wont," Elrohir answered and this soothed Elladan somewhat. Elrohir had always been closer connected to the other realms than him.

"Good, " he said, as his gaze drifted back to the repulsive ritual that now seemed to come to an end.

And so the dreaded moment arrived and the man they called Master and God crossed the floor on solid legs and approached the Elven brothers. He had shed his heavy cloak and carried a silver goblet in his hand. With an almost gentle smile he approached them with the blonde and dogs in tow.

The men followed him with expectation in their eyes, arched further down on the benches, and drew closer, hunger, written on their features.

"We have Elves," the man stated. "Weren't we lucky today," he said in an almost sultry voice, cooked his head in a most unnerving way. His black eyes lingered on Elladan, measured him.

"What will you do to us...Master? Shed our blood to your wooden twin outside?" Elrohir asked. His voice was hoarse and raw.

The Masters eyes drifted from Elladan to Elrohir.

"I don't know," he said slowly. "I like Elves. They are pretty to look at...Maybe I should keep you," he said in a thick voice and gave something resembling a wink to Elladan.

"Keep us?" Elladan couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice.

"With my dogs..." The fat man smiled. "And my kittens, " he patted the blond boy's head. The boy himself looked at the twins with undisguised hostility now. With a start Elladan realized what he should have seen to begin with. The boy wasn't the Master's son. He was his lover. The possibilities for the future suddenly seemed even grimmer than before.

"We are sons of Lord Elrond of Rivendell. We have blood ties to The Lady of the Wood," Elrohir said, the desperation that caused his proud twin to call upon family ties told Elladan he had realized the state of things too. "They will not let any violation of us go without revenge..."

But although the mention of the Lady had caused a spark of fear in some of the men's eyes, the Master seemed undisturbed.

"What does a mere Lord mean to me?" he said and threw his long hair back from his shoulders. "I am a god."

Elladan and Elrohir shared a worried look.
Suddenly the fat hand shot forward and touched Elrohir's cheek. Traced his skin lazily with jeweled fingers.

"So pretty." He smiled almost teasingly and let his hand move further down stroke down Elrohir's chest and belly before pausing right above his crotch. "Wonder what you got down there little Elf..." he said with a coy smile.

Elrohir had closed his eyes. His jaw was tightly shut, his fingers white where he struggled against the leather cords.

"Let him be," Elladan said, his voice dark and low. "Do not touch him...Master."

The Master hardly looked at him, his focus was solely on Elrohir now.

"Such a pretty Elf," he marveled. "And two of you as well... I wonder what I'll call you. Surely you must have names."

"I am Elrohir, " Elrohir said through gritted teeth. "My brother is Elladan."

"Oh, but they are Elven names..." The Master argued. "I will give you new ones... pretty ones." He smiled with yellow teeth, his hand still resting on Elrohir's torso. The sight made Elladan cringe. A sour taste fill the cave of his mouth.

"Come...Bring him!" the Master ordered and abruptly turned his crimson back to the twins and crossed the floor again, still with dogs and boy in tow. A slack mouthed, openly eager man snatched the loop of the hook and he and two other men dragged, almost carried Elrohir across the floor. The Elven Lord's son struggled this time, used his Elven grace and speed to kick at their feet, throw his body out of their reach, but this seemed to only enflame the men as they were cheered along by their companions by the tables.

"Elrohir!" Elladan cried out, trying to force the thick leather cords to give in. Desperate to help his brother.

The rows of men arched themselves the other way now. Eager to watch as Elrohir was lifted of the ground and dumped into the madman's lap. Thick fingers tangled in his black soft hair and bloodless lips were pressed to his throat. The fingers came out with Elrohir's copper clasps held in the air like a prize. Almost playfully the man fastened them in his own reddish locks before his fingers dived back in, searching for more treasures.

"Elrohir!" Elladan cried again. Saw his brother's eyes fill with disgust and anger through the thick layer of smoke. Watched him as his head spun around and strong, even teeth sank into the man's fat fingers, drawing blood. The man screamed and slammed his fist into Elrohir's face, made the Elf's head fly back, but his brother didn't cry out. Just clenched his jaw and closed his eyes, then his leg flew out, hit the nearest man in the soft of his belly. Sent him flying back to violently crash into the table.

"Bad kitten!" the Man screamed with black, angry eyes. "Oh, will you pay for this!" he complained loudly and sucked the blood from his fingers. Without warning, he grabbed Elrohir's hair again and pressed his lips to Elrohir's. Held him there for seemingly endless seconds before letting him go. Throwing him off his lap and down to a grey fur on the floor nearby. Hovering above the panting Elf, the man grabbed the dagger from his belt. Two men came to secure Elrohir's legs, still a third one had to come and add his weight before the struggling warrior was immobilized. The Master bent forward and Elladan held his breath in horror. He was almost relieved when all the man did was to cut Elrohir's tunic from his torso, let the remains fall to the sides in silken shreds. The dagger went back to his belt and Elladan let out his breath. He could see the beginning bruises where the man's fingers had held his brother before. Blue marks on his upper arms and the sight made him burn with anger. Close his eyes with despair.

The man lifted his hands to caress Elrohir's chest, rub his nipples with his thumbs. Elladan swallowed hard, over and over again. The cheering men howled and cried out rude remarks, and Elrohir... Staring across the room in terror. Wide-eyed and shocked with heaving chest as the man's hands continued to violate him. Elladan threw himself forward, tried to force the hook to give. Force wood from wood. Anything, just so he could stop what was going on in front of him.

"Elrohir!" he cried out again, more desperate now, his voice cracked. Filled with as much despair as his insides.

"You like this, don't you? Pretty Elf." He heard the man across the room. "Want to try another kiss..." The man bent over and was greeted with a snarl and a thick, round bead of white spit that hit him in the eye. The man cried out with anger and humiliation. Rose to his feet in a surprisingly fluid motion.

"I would say!" he shouted. "This Elf needs some warming up!" The men howled and screamed with anticipation as thick iron sticks came down from the walls and were shoved into the glowing mass of fire and red-black coals.