Tears of the Valar

Disclaimer/Author's Notes: I own nothing but the Original Characters and their adventures. Everything else belongs to JRR Tolkien, the Tolkien Estate, New Line Cinema/Peter Jackson, et. al. This was done purely for entertainment and as an exercise in creativity.
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“We have found it,” Helcarin said, breaking the surface of the lake inside the cavern.

Elladan, who had found a niche in the face of the rock wall to wait slipped back into the water and checked to make certain the rope was secured. They had found there was actually only a relatively small opening through which any could swim out of the cavern and so finding a place to surface had been the focus of their efforts.

The two ellyn began swimming back to the shore when there was a sound of something else moving in the water behind them. Turning quickly, Elladan broke into a smile as Elrohir broke the surface.

The brothers stared at each other for a moment then began speaking at the same time.

“I thought you were dead—“

“I though you had been captured—“

They managed to hug each other without sinking then swam together back to the shore. Legolas and Glorfindel handed them blankets with which to dry as Elladan explained what had happened and Elrohir told of how he and Haldir had been captured and were being taken to Lastharos.

“One of the Khandun generals is here?” Glorfindel asked. “Why is he not with the army?”

Elrohir quickly filled them in on Crasthion’s predicament.

“Perhaps we can help each other,” Legolas mused.

“My thoughts as well,” Glorfindel replied.

Elrohir was about to say something else when he noticed Elladan’s gaze straying to a large rock outcropping over the edge of the water where Alexandra sat with another woman. He raised his brow at his brother’s obvious feelings for the woman and deduced she must be the one who nursed him back to health.

“Come,” Elladan told him, “I would have you meet my healer.”

Elrohir followed him over to the rock where Alexandra watched their approach with a slight smile.

“I see we can’t leave you and Haldir alone for a minute without you getting in trouble,” she called, slipping from the rock and wrapping her arms around Elrohir, giving him a welcoming hug.

“You should have learned that lesson long before now,” he replied with a laugh then noticed how the other woman seemed quite shy, Elladan reaching up to pull her down gently though she did not meet either ellon’s gaze.

“My lady, may I present my brother, Elrohir. Elrohir, Allase, the one to whom I owe my life.”

Elrohir bowed respectfully to the furiously blushing woman, not allowing his amusement at her inexplicable nervousness—nor Elladan’s, for that matter—to show.

“My lady, I am honored to meet you, and you have my heartfelt gratitude for all you did to help my brother heal. I had feared him lost and seeing him whole, by your skills, is a most wonderful gift. Thank you.”

“It was not me, but the Great Creator who healed him. I simply did what I could to give him the opportunity to heal.” She looked down as Elladan put his arm around her, pulling her close.

“Then thank you for everything you did for him,” Elrohir answered with a smile. He noticed she did not look at either of them and Alex finally stepped back raising a brow.

“Are the two of you going to stand around half naked all day? Or is there some sort of plan for getting your weapons and other items through to the other side without getting them wet?”

Legolas, Glorfindel and Helcarin joined them and her husband slipped his arm around her waist with a laugh.

“I am afraid there is no choice but to get extremely wet,” he told her with a kiss. “Do you not think we should allow a mortal to test the length of the swim? They cannot hold their breath as long.”

“I’ll do it,” Alex replied, pulling off her jacket but leaving her weapons on. “It shouldn’t be that difficult, I hope.”

“Just follow the rope,” Helcarin instructed. “You will come out in the center between the east and west shores. The others are on the western side.”

Alex nodded and, giving Legolas another kiss, started to the water.

“Wait,” Allase called and all eyes turned to her. She felt very self-conscious but ventured on. “Should I not go? Alexandra is obviously trained as a warrior and I am not, therefore I am more representative of my people than she is. If I can make it through without difficulty, then the others should be able to do so as well.”

Glorfindel nodded. “The lady has a point. Some of those who must swim through are old, injured, or perhaps unable to swim. She has not had the same training as Alexandra and so she is the closest example we have of the other mortals.”

“I will go with you,” Elladan told Allase. “I do not wish you to go alone.” He began to gather their things. “We will have to take some items with us as will the others who come, though there are few who have any possessions. Still, we might as well see how easy it is to transport necessities.”

In the end, Elrohir accompanied his brother and Allase as well while the others waited and watched. It did not take as long as they had thought it might before Elrohir resurfaced in the cave with a smile.

“The lady had no problem at all. It is safe for the others.”

“We will go and tell them,” Legolas said as he and Alex gathered their weapons.

Glorfindel nodded. “Helcarin and I will await your return. It should only be another day and a half.”

They parted company, Elrohir returning to the outside world, Legolas and Alexandra in search of their friends and the other survivors.

***

“He is defying me,” Lastharos fumed as he paced the chamber, a long thin cane in his hand, its tip split into multiple fronds. “He deliberately waits to answer my summons because he knows that I know his plans.”

Sui cowered in the corner of the large room, blood streaking her body where the Khandun leader had whipped her furiously with the cane as he cursed Crasthion’s disobedience. He had ordered him to return to Fwaban immediately and the man who had once been his favorite general was not moving fast enough for Lastharos’ liking. Hence, Sui paid the price.

The Butcher of Khand had already begun torturing Crasthion’s household. The slaves and servants were all imprisoned and every day he had another of them brought out so he could assuage his anger. Sui had been forced to watch the skin being flayed from the backs of some of the servants while others were raped repeatedly by Lastharos and his beasts. Some were strung up, their bodies smeared with honey, and biting bugs were loosed upon them. He did not kill any yet. He was saving that for when Crasthion was there to watch.

At times, the woman thought he would kill her in his fury, but he always seemed to restrain himself just short of dealing a killing blow. Her body was crisscrossed with scars, cuts, bruises—all manner of injury. She routinely vomited blood and passed it in her water and her stools, and inside she could feel she was dying. Yet she tried to hold on, not wanting to give up hope that Crasthion may return and convince Lastharos of his loyalty. She wanted her master to be proud of her strength though she was afraid it would fail her long before he made it to Fwaban.

The beautiful, black-haired Ruler paused and looked at the once-lovely woman with a sneer.

“He has abandoned all of you to your fates. He knows what will happen to the slaves of a traitor and has left you to fend for yourselves. There will be no intercession or pleas for mercy for you by your beloved master.”

She wanted to cry, to scream, “NO!” at his words. Crasthion would not abandon his people, his responsibility; but protests would only amuse Lastharos further and bring additional torments so she held her tongue.

The door of the chamber opened and Lastharos looked up to see Naveradir enter. He smiled in greeting and nodded to the visitor from Rhun, feeling a stirring inside. This man was different from the others. Something about him was dangerous, calling to Lastharos. Though he found the beautiful blonde Elf almost painfully desirable, this dark man was hypnotic. The woman was quite fortunate in her husband and her lover.

Naveradir’s gaze brushed over the bloody slave then fixed on Lastharos. Smiling, he gave a polite nod.

“You seem upset, my lord. Perhaps I should return another time. We are preparing to return to our home to fetch your ‘gifts’ and I wished to thank you for your hospitality.”

Going? No, they could not leave yet.

“Must you leave so soon?” Lastharos asked as he dropped the cane on a table and poured his guest and himself goblets of wine. Handing one to Naveradir, his fingertips brushed those of the dark-haired man and he felt his arousal grow.

“I am afraid it is a long journey back to our home,” Naveradir replied, his smile touching the corners of his lips. “I do not wish to leave just yet, but my wife misses our home and the sooner we go, the sooner I can return with your Elf.”

“My Elves, you mean,” Lastharos corrected him with a chuckle. “I wish to breed them. I am certain they will prove most entertaining.”

“Indeed,” Naveradir acknowledged. “You know they may also breed with mortals if you so desire. Males can service many females and practically guarantee offspring if the women are healthy.” A flash of the breeding slaves in his father’s dungeons passed through Naveradir’s mind and he tried to push away the memories, yet he knew in order to reach Lastharos he would need to recall that he was indeed the son of Goroth and embrace the darkness he had worked so hard and so long to put behind him.

“So it is true they are tireless?” Lastharos asked, imagining what he would do with his Elves. “You and your wife are quite fortunate.”

Naveradir again inclined his head. “My wife is inordinately fond of her Elf. I left them packing, but I doubt they will accomplish much in my absence. They were already in the midst of an embrace as I closed the door.”

“You are not jealous?” Lastharos asked, curious that the man seemed not to care what his wife and her slave did.

Shaking his head Naveradir sighed. “It is better she have him than give herself to common men. He makes her happy and is tireless. I have … other desires which she cannot always satisfy.”

The Ruler of Khand studied the other man and a slow smile came to his lips.

“Your wife is not … strong enough for you?”

“She has her limits. Her slave is able to endure much more, but only when she is present.”

Lastharos nodded slowly. “And you do not wish to damage your wife’s prize pet.”

“No, I do not. He pleases her and takes much of the demand from me.”

“You have a mistress? A slave of your own?” Lastharos took a long swallow of the wine.

“There are female Elves in our household who can endure my attentions but knowing there is no danger involved—that they can take what I give them without breaking—takes much of the … adventure from our joinings.” Again his gaze wandered over to Sui.

Lastharos followed his guest’s line of sight and raised a brow.

“Her? She is simply a mortal slave. Do you desire her?”

“She seems to be able to take much yet still lives. I find that fascinating. What fun is there in taking someone that can endure all you do? There is no fear, no threat of their life leaving.”

“Then take her, my friend. Use her as you will and satisfy your needs.” Lastharos wondered if the Rhunian would kill her with his attentions. He had seen the man with his wife and her slave and knew he was not inconsiderable. In Sui’s condition, it was quite possible Naveradir could damage her beyond repair.

“You are too generous my lord,” Naveradir told his host with a smile. He walked over to where the woman lay on the floor, eyes glazed with agony, her breathing obviously painful. “Get up, slave,” he said in a tone that brooked no disobedience.

Sui slowly looked up at the beautiful visitor and tried to do as he commanded, pushing herself to her feet, leaning against the wall for strength.

Naveradir reached out and caressed her torn flesh with a smile.

“You are beautiful in your pain,” he murmured and leaned down, his tongue tracing along one of her cuts, tasting the metallic mortal blood. He could hear Lastharos’ sharp intake of breath and knew the Butcher of Khand would give him anything he wanted.

“Delicious,” Naveradir sighed then turned to face Lastharos. “Do you have a private place where the slave can … entertain me?”

“I have the perfect place,” the Khandun replied with a smile. Motioning for Naveradir to follow him, Lastharos led him through a hidden door and down a set of spiral stairs.

Sui followed along painfully, wincing with each step. She knew where the stairs led and knew she would die in the deep pit of depravity. Lastharos would let this pitiless man of Rhun rape and torture her until she went to the home of her fathers. How cruel—she would not even be giving her life to help her master; simply being used as a toy for a visitor.

Lastharos opened a doorway at the foot of the stairs. Torches burned in sconces along the walls and Naveradir was reminded again of Goroth’s dungeons. The scent of old blood, pain and fear was heavy in the air and he felt it calling to him. He reminded himself why he was here and turned to the Khandun leader with a smile.

“Exquisite,” he said, bowing to Lastharos. “I see you have excellent taste.” There were implements of torture, means of binding slaves or prisoners, all manner of painful delights scattered around the room. His father would have enjoyed such a place, he thought.

“I am glad you approve,” Lastharos replied. He was aroused at the thought of watching the man and the soon-to-be-dead slave.

Naveradir could sense Lastharos’ desire and knew he had the man. No guards were with them and if he struck quickly …

“My lord!” a voice called down the stairs.

Lastharos closed his eyes and muttered a curse then answered.

“What is it?”

A guard appeared at the doorway. “One of the vampires returns with reports of the army. They did not advance into Rhun.”

“What?” Lastharos whirled and started from the room. Pausing on the stair, he called back to Naveradir. “Enjoy her while she is of use to you, my friend. I must see to this matter.”

Naveradir nodded and watched as Lastharos left them. Moving swiftly across the floor of the room, he closed the door, bolting it from the inside so none could enter, then turned back to the woman standing in the center of the torture chamber.

She had been horribly abused and he felt anger and disgust toward Lastharos. Walking over to her, he saw her flinch slightly as he raised his hand to push back her hair. She was helpless, in pain, afraid, and completely at his mercy …

Naveradir pushed away the dark desire that reared its head inside of him. He was not the same Elf.

“Do not be afraid,” he whispered almost silently. “I will not harm you.”

Sui looked up in surprise, suspicion in her eyes. What was this man’s game? He tried to lure her into complacency when he meant to kill her.

“Why has Lastharos done this to you?” he asked, leading her over to a bench, gesturing for her to sit.

“My master was his favorite and is now in disgrace. I am the slave of one the Glorious Leader considers a traitor and my life is forfeit.”

With just a bit more coaxing, she finally told him everything about Crasthion, Lastharos’ relationship with the man’s parents, his plans for the army and the prophecy. Naveradir listened in silence. When she finally stopped talking he considered her words.

“I will try to see that you are not harmed and his prisoners are released,” he finally told her.

She looked up at him, eyes wide.

“There is nothing you can do,” she whispered. “Our fate is sealed.”

“No,” Naveradir replied with a slight smile. “Nothing is certain until it is done. Trust me. Now, do as I say and we may all come out of this whole and free.”