Voices In The Dark

Title: Voices In The Dark

A/N: By this point you should know the drill...
Read as you like, Review as you will.
All are Tolkien's, but with my little twist.
Love those elves! Happiness is!
Legless Lizards!

Once again, thanks to Linuari for beta-ing.


Chapter Twenty: One Long Night: Opportunities


Quickly Elanor crept out onto the balcony. She carefully slipped over the ornate stone balustrade and clambered with ease down a particularly large vine that wound its way up to the roof of the house. Once on the ground, she paused a moment to get her bearings before running off through the shadows in search of a tree to suit her purposes, giggling softly in glee.

Rarely was she let out to play; Ravan was always cautioning her to be careful not to get caught, saying it could cause problems for everyone. She would be careful; she promised. Besides, she only wished to climb one of the tall old trees in the gardens, and she knew that would make Oiolaire happy. He loved to hide in trees. Hiding was one of the few things that made him happy.

Her feet flew lightly over grass and cobbles, pausing for an instant to pick up a beautiful black feather lying on the ground. With nimble fingers she braided it into her white-gold hair before continuing to race through the gardens in search of her tree.

As she skipped along she passed by an ornate stone gazebo and paused when she perceived movement from within. In the torch-lit dark she could see two elves locked within a passionate embrace. She grinned as she recognized them both: the tall, dark-haired Elladan and fiery Laurerána. To Elanor’s eye they looked as if they were trying to eat each other, and a giggle threatened to escape from her throat at the absurdity of the image. She quickly covered her mouth, not wishing to be discovered, and silently passed on.

Opening herself to the plants growing around her, she could feel their presence, a separate, living entity within her mind. The trees welcomed her cautiously, uncertain as to the intentions of this odd elf wandering in their midst. Understanding their hesitance, she let them explore deeper within her mind, her thoughts and those of the others plain to their ancient spirits. What they found shocked them, but quickly they understood and accepted this oddity; feeling a sense of protectiveness for this elf with many minds. Elanor just shrugged indifferently at their slight concern, and passed on.

Suddenly another presence became known to her and she paused, withdrawing her mind from the ancient trees and cocking her head to one side as a dark shape rose from a stone bench hidden away under the trees. The shape moved closer, yet she held her ground. She knew she should run. It wasn’t safe to be outside like this, but she was curious.

“Legolas?” The voice was familiar, and she smiled brightly, ignoring the suddenly panicked cries from deeper within her mind.

“No,” she replied, clutching her hands behind her, suddenly nervous. She shifting her weight from foot to foot as the shape materialized into Saeldis, her old tutor.

*Get back! Hide!* cried one of the others, their panic making it difficult to discern who spoke.

*No, I want to see!* she replied. The others had rarely let her out when he was near, shielding her from even watching them interact with the strict tutor.

“Stop fidgeting,” the former tutor barked softly. “And stand up straight!”

*Uh oh!* The coarse voice sent a brief tremor of fear pulsing down her spine, and in a flash she was gone, forcefully shoved away by another. In her place Aenos pulled himself up straight. He would make this right. He was a good elf, not like the others.

“Why did you say no, you lying demon?” Saeldis asked the elf before him with a look of disgust written plainly upon his chiseled features.

“I’m sorry, Herdir,” Aenos answered. The cries of fear continued to fill the back of his mind with a cacophony of sound, but he pushed them away, determined to retain his position at the forefront.

Sealdis continued forward until he stood only a few feet away from the blonde elf. He noticed the swift change in demeanor within the elf before him, although he didn’t remark upon it. It was just another sign of the darkness that cursed his former charge from birth.

“What do you think you’re doing, running through Lord Elrond’s gardens like this?” he asked, his voice low and menacing. With one hand he reached up and swiftly yanked the feather dangling in Aenos’s long hair, dropping it to the ground contemptuously. “Up to some sort of evil mischief would be my guess.”

“No, Herdir,” Aenos said quickly. “I was not-” He was cut short by a sharp slap to the side of his face, causing him to rock back a step.

*Run away!* Elanor cried out, now wishing she had listened when the others had advised her of the same.

*Go now! Hurry!* Ravan shouted in agreement.

*No! I am in control!*

*Please,* Oiolaire whispered distantly, *don’t let him hurt us!*

“I don’t wish to hear any more of your lies!” Saeldis hissed. “Your mind is filled with blackness, and it pours from your lips like a spring torrent. Only I can see your wickedness. Only I can help you.”

“No, Herdir!” Aenos’s voice pleaded. “I am sorry! I try to be good!”


SLAP! This time the blow landed on the other cheek. “Why should I help you? You tried to kill me once. I should return the favor and be done with it!” He paused a moment, as if in thought. “But I am merciful. I won’t kill you. However, you must still be punished for lying, and for contemplating mischief. Come.”

He walked away into the trees, fully expecting the younger elf to follow. Aenos bowed his head and went after him without an outside word. Inside the voices rose to a near deafening roar.

*Be quiet!* Aenos growled. *You’ve been bad.*

*No!* Oiolaire attempted to wrest control away from the prideful spirit and run, but Aenos’s hold was too tight.

*This is what you deserve from sneaking out of your room. It is Elanor’s fault.*

*No! I’m sorry! I won’t do it again!* Elanor cried.

*Too late…* Ravan whispered heavily, temporarily silencing everyone, and several of the spirits retreated into the distance.

They walked though the concealing trees, the ancient spirits sensing the conflict within the young elf and quivering their branches in reaction. Saeldis seemed oblivious to their movement in absence of any breeze to shake their soft leaves. He walked straight and proud, his mind contemplating how fate had decided to bring Legolas back to him. It was up to him to control the wayward elfling, as it had always been. When he looked upon the elf in question, he didn’t see a figure fully grown, but a child blackened by evil’s taint. That evil had touched him, made him feel things and do things he had no control over. It was up to him to exorcise the foul demons before he tainted any others.

At last they stopped. Slowly Sealdis stripped off his belt, the silver buckle glinting faintly in the weak moonlight. He wrapped one end of the leather belt around his fist, letting the buckle dangle ominously. Aenos shivered slightly, but stood his ground, even against the renewed pleading in his mind.

“Turn around and lift your tunic.” Aenos, well familiar with the order, did as he was told, turning and lifting the dark fabric until his back was exposed. Saeldis was momentarily taken aback by the scar tissue covering so much of the elf’s flesh, scars caused by the heat of a fire. This was the first he had seen of the almost disfiguring injury, and it only served to further convince him that his thoughts concerning the darkness within the young elf were valid.

“All the more proof of your wickedness,” he murmured, “that you do not heal.”

And with that he struck, drawing the belt back then forward with a sharp crack, the buckle cutting deep into the exposed flesh. Pain erupted upon Aenos’s back and he let out a faint cry, rocking forwards with the blow but still remaining on his feet. A second and third strike followed, each time the buckle slicing into the scarred flesh of his back, drawing forth thin streams of blood. By the fourth blow Aenos sank to his knees, unable to control the tears that spilt down his cheeks.

*I’m a bad elf. I’m a bad elf. I deserve this,* Aenos murmured like a mantra within.

*No! Stop!” the others begged. “Don’t let him do this!*

Saeldis paused a moment, feeling a familiar ache rising between his legs at the sight of the helpless elf bowed in front of him, dark streaks trickling amongst the ridges of his ruined back. It infuriated him that such a thing could tempt him so, and always had. With his free hand he rubbed at the bulge under his robes, his tongue darting out briefly to wet his suddenly dry lips. He remembered what it felt like to force his hard member into that hot, wet mouth, to pound furiously down that tight throat until his seed burst from his loins. He ached with a sudden desire to see this elf kneeling before him again, struggling while he forced himself deeper. He hated the need that burned within him, and had long since attributed them to still another sign of evil rising from this particular elf.

“Turn around!” He commanded sharply, his voice coming out gruffer that he’d expected. Aenos obeyed, shuffling around on his knees until he faced the tutor, his head still bowed in supplication.

*It is over. That wasn’t so bad. See? Everything is well. We have been punished for being bad, now it is good.*

*But we weren’t bad.* Elanor insisted, thankful that the punishment seemed to be over, even if she didn’t understand his reasoning behind it.

*Yes we were!* Aenos yelled at her.

*No!* she yelled back, angry at her confusion over Master Saeldis’ incomprehensible hatred over them all.

A long fingered hand still wrapped with the belt strap reached down to grasp his chin, pulling his face up to meet that of his former tutor. As his eyes rose from their downcast look, he noticed Saeldis’ other hand fumbling with the opening of his long robes, and froze.

*Oh no! No! No! No! Not that! Keep him away! I can’t do this!*

The voices were crying, some of them screaming in denial. Aenos heard his own voice whisper, “No, no, no,” and felt his breath catch as if he were already choking. He couldn’t take this. It was too much. This wasn’t happening. His eyes remained fixed upon the groping hand until suddenly the long, dark member appeared, the tip glistening slightly in the meager light.

Aenos could take no more. With a violent tremor he released control of the body, and suddenly another was in front. Mórehua was more than angry; he was enraged, and wasn’t about to allow this body to become corrupted again. To Mandos with evil and bad elves; he didn’t care. He had been training long and hard for this. Mórehua failed at killing Saeldis once; he wouldn’t fail again.

With a sudden surge of power he was up, knocking down the older elf before he knew what was happening. Saeldis landed with a heavy thud, the look on his face now filled with surprise, anger, and fear. He watched the elf standing above him, noting how the features had suddenly shifted slightly. It was the demon in actuality, and his anger slowly dissolved into alarm as he realized he no longer had the upper hand.

Mórehua swiftly bent down and seized the end of the belt that lay benignly on the ground, the silver buckle stained with his own blood. With a quick yank the belt was pulled from Saeldis’ grasp. Dark, empty eyes stared down at his tormentor.

“I told you before that I would kill you if you ever came near us again,” he said, his voice matching his cold eyes. For a moment he looked as evil as Saeldis claimed he was. “I think this time someone else needs to be punished.”

Saeldis attempted to scoot backwards, away from the eyes that glinted with madness. He didn’t make it far before the edge of the belt buckle slashed across his face, drawing a thin line of blood that dripped slowly down his right cheek. He gasped at the sudden stinging pain, automatically bringing his hands up to protect his face. Unfortunately this left his groin exposed to the swift kick that followed, causing him to cry out in agony, his hands moving down to clutch himself protectively.

After a few moments of gasping, waiting for the pain to subside, he looked up. Mórehua had fitted the belt through the stained silver buckle, creating an effective noose. This he slipped over Saeldis’ head before the former tutor could do much more than let out a sharp cry in reaction. Straddling his captive’s hips, Mórehua then proceeded to cinch the loop tighter, slowly suffocating the struggling elf beneath him.


Review Responses:

MorierBlackleaf: Flipping a coin, eh? That’s a good idea. Or roll dice if you need several options. Hmmm…I’ll have to try that.
But I think I finally got it all worked out. Maybe a touch of overkill, but if you’re going to do something, you might as well do it right, I always say! (evil grin)

Yanic: Well, Legolas isn’t fading. Yet anyways…

Dead Winter: Sorry, it just seemed a good pause point. (You probably hate this one too. (grin)) And honestly, it’s easier for me to write scenes of high tension and angst than of tenderness and romance. But I’m working on it!
As for Ravan, yeah, he’s very strong, but he’s also been through a lot. It’s hard to remain positive for so long, especially when the situation seems so bad and things are falling apart. That ends up being Elanor’s job. And yes, Aenos is quite cold. Calculating. Prideful. Basically of a similar character to Saeldis himself. Hmmm…I just realized that. Wow! Silly me!

Zed: Well, at least I did SOME explaining before confusing people more. Heheheh!
I knew you would ask about the human thing; you’re so quick on these things! (grin) So here is my…reasoning. The different personalities of those suffering from this disease can be of any race. In one case a white woman had a large black man as one of her personalities. So I figured, why not a human personality in an elven mind? (A friend of mine seemed amused by the idea as well.)
After some thought I slowly came to the conclusion that humans and elves are too different, and while the idea had merit, and I really wanted one to retain the memories without fading, it couldn’t actually work the way I wanted it to.
And yet, Oiolaire insisted that he was human. These characters are SO aggravating when they do things like this! What is a writer to do? And then, late one cold, foggy night, it hit me…
Let’s just say you’re getting close.
And I didn’t know about the two names thing. Interesting. And confusing.

Crookis: Thank you! Here comes another…