Taelin's Story

The following months passed slowly. Taelin took the brunt of the attention as the men were foren ten to harm Daela for fear of the child she carried. There were days, however, when they attempted to gain pleasure from the woman. On such days, the young elf would near throw himself at the meant in effort to save his lover.

When left alone, the two would talk of their childhoods, using Taelin’s native Sindarin. The elf found it comforting to use such, as he was now forbidden to do so. He was denied the very things that elves strive upon. Peace, and the beauty of nature. Many a long night did he lay awake, longing to hear the whisper of the trees, or stories told by the stars. The achew stw stronger in his heart, paling all others.

The pale shaft of moonlight that leaked through the tiny window was barely enough to sustain the poor elf. He started to feel the first signs of fading upon himself. Knowing that his eyes were losing their sparkle, his already pale skin seemed even paler, and he was beginning to lose his will to fight. No longer didlin lin resist when someone wished to gain pleasure from his body. The only time he showed any sign of care was if someone attempted to touch Daela. Such was their life, for a great many months. Then one day, life changed slightly.

~*~

Taelin woke one morning to the sound of a soft moan. His eyes cleared as he slowly came to awareness once more. His gaze was automatically drawn to the figure curled on the bed across the room. When his eyes finally focused on her, his heart dropped.

The baby was due any day, and Taelin feared that today was it. Daela had been quiet the day before. Barely eating, and not sleeping. Taelin’s elvish senses confirmed what he feared.

“Melamin?” (my love) He asked quietly and was only answered with yet another moan, sending the rest of his senses into full alert.

“Daela, the baby is coming, is it not?”” This time, he was awarded with a little nod. “We cannot do this on our own, melamin. You need a healer.”

With that, Taelin cried out for help, and was soon ded ded with an answer when the door swung open and Pain and Sneak came in.

“Wha’s all th’ racket ‘bout, huh? You wantin’ some more attention, elf?” Sneak asked as he began advancing upon the young elf.

“If that is my lord’s wish.” Taelin answered, turning his gaze to the floor in an act of submission, before continuing. “I only wished to ask for the assistance of a Healer, as Lady Daela seems to be in labor, my lord.”

Sneak’s face became a mask of worry, as a sharp cry left the woman’s lips. Pain, however, assumed authority over the situation, sending Sneak to fetch Rowley. Taelin tried to think of anything he could do to comfort the young woman, who seemed far too tense for things to progress properly.

“Breathe, nin ind. (my heart) Breathe. Help will arrive very soon.” He pleaded, using Elvish in hopes that the melodic quality of the language would give her something to focus on, all the while praying he wouldn’t be punished for using such this time. The look on Pain’s face was enough to shatter that hope.

Knowing he would receive the same punishment, no matter what, the elf decided to make the best of it, and provide as much comfort as he could to the young woman. Thinking back, he began to sing a lovely elvish song to her.


Davo enni ú-chered a chírbann o choel, dân maethad hain pen-achas.
Davo enni ú-ganed an nared en-naeg nín, dân i ‘ûr orthored han.
Davo enni ú-dired mellyn bo dagorlad cuil, dân tired i vellas nín.
Davo enni ú-dharthad vi achas ‘alol an endraith, dân esteliad a mronwe crithad i leithiad nín.
Davo enni gaun hired i ‘aded e-gam lín ir im orthornen; ú-vathad i veleth lín erui vi tûr nín.

(Grant to me to pray not for haven from afflictions, but to fight them without fear.
Grant to me to not cry out for the stopping of my pain, but the heart to conquer it.
Grant to me to look not to friends on life’s battlefield, but to look to my own strength.
Grant to me to wait not in growing fear for saving, but to hope for endurance to reap my release.
Grant to me valour to find the grasp of your hand when I am conquered; to feel not your love only in my victory.) (song taken from www.councilofelrond.com)


Another pained yelp split the air, before the door swung open, and the healer, Rowley, sprinted into the room. He quickly checked Daela’s pulse, and on how far she had progressed with the labor. Glancing at the usually silent elf, he was surprised to hear him singing quietly with the most beautiful voice the man had ever heard. So full of sadness and yet hope. Rowley then made a decision.

“She’s far too tense. I need to get her to relax, else the babe wont come! You two…OUT!” Rowley exclaimed, pointing at Pain and Sneak. Ideally, he would have d tod to have the woman moved to a cleaner room, and a more comfortable bed for her recovery, but the healer had long since realized what conditions the two chained souls lived under.

He was pleased to see his orders being heeded. At least now he might work in some semblance of peace, though he hoped he wouldn’t need assistance, as he knew neither of the men in the hallway would be the kind of help he needed. They only knew how to inflict pain and fear, not how to provide comfort.

Once again, his eyes were drawn to the naked figure that stood in the middle of the room, singing quietly. There was a look of longing in the elf’s eyes, and finally realization dawned on Rowley once more. Getting to his feet, he approached Taelin, who shied back from him.

“Come, I wont harm you.” Rowley said softly. “You are the father of the child, are you not?”

The elf nodded slowly, once. Still, he did not speak. This intrigued the healer. How could one, seeming so young, seem so strong? How long had this being lived in thiny rny room, and survived such horrible treatments?

“Then I require your help, friend. You seem to be a calming influence on the lady, and I will need that in the coming hours. I will see if I cannot help ease some of the pain for both of you, now.”

With that, Rowley went to the door, and demanded that one of the men come and release Daela from her chains. He knew that they would never grant such freedom to the elf, but at least the woman could be moved closer to her lover, so they could share in this experience together.

Sneak came in, eyeing Taelin warily. The elf was far too quiet, and seemed far too determined at present. It scared the skittish young man. He quickly went and unlocked the chains from Daela’s ankles, before being ushered from the room once more.

Rowley gave the elf a small smile, before dragging the bed closer to the standing form. Immediately, Taelin crouched by Daela’s side and softly caressed her cheek with a trembling hand. It was apparent how scared the elf truly was, but he was good at disguising such feelings.

With a small smile, Rowley set to work. He listened to the two conversing in some strange language, of which he was sure must have been the elf’s native tongue. It had a beautiful flowing quality to it, and seemed to calm the woman further. Perhaps it was the words spoken, as well as the language used.

Hours passed in such a fashion. Rowley had begun to fear that the babe would not be born without assistance. Daela was weakening. No longer did the woman cry out with each contraction, she only tensed and seemed to be waiting them out before collapsing limply onto the bed once more. Looking to the elf, Rowley realized there was fear in his deep blue eyes. He truly loved this woman.

Becoming desperate, Rowley tried to think of anything he could do to help aid in the birth. There had been no change for the past hour, and he was afraid that the babe might be lost if left much longer. Quietly, he approached the elf once more, ignoring the trembling that started in Taelin from the healer’s closeness.

“May I speak with you, my friend? Quickly?” He received a nod, and the elf got to his feet, towering gracefully over the small man.

“I have heard told that there are great healers among your kind. That the elves hold some strange powers for healing. I am afraid for them both, things are not progressing, and left alone now, I fear we may lose them both.” Rowley bit his lip a little before continuing. “What I suppose I am asking, is there anything you think you could do? I know you are frightened for her, I have seen the fear grow in you over these past hours. If there is anything you might do to help her, please do! I will tell no one. You have my word.” Rowley looked up into the strange blue eyes pleadingly.

There was a silence that seemed to last for hours, though only covered a few short seconds, before the elf responded barely above a whisper.

“I will try my best, my lord. I do not know if there is anything I might do. My kind do not possess any kind of special magic answers to things.” There were tears in Taelin’s eyes as he spoke of elvenkind, the pain clear to see.

Slowly the elf crouched by the woman’s side. She could barely open her eyes now, for she was so exhausted from the long hours of labor. Long, slender hands slowly ran over her swollen belly, for the first time in months. Tears slowly rolled down the elf’s cheeks as he closed his eyes and chanted something quietly.

Rowley watched, but made his way to his previous position between the lady’s legs. To his wonder, the baby’s head began to crown finally. His healer training slowly kicked in, and he began softly coaching the woman through the birth, all the while listening to the murmured elvish in the background. A half hour later, a tiny airy cry filled the room as the infant tested its lungs for the first time.

Taelin looked up at the cry, unable to hold back a soft sob at the sight of his child. The tiny infant wriggled as it was held close to the healer’s chest. Tiny pink limbs waving in the air, soft blonde fuzz on top of the little round head, and the tiniest little pointed ears. Taelin’s hand sought out Daela’s and squeezed it firmly.

“Well, congratulations! You have a …”

Before Rowley could finish, the door swung violently open, and in walked Master. He looked far more angry that usual, and glared at the healer before harshly snatching the infant from his arms.

“They have nothin’! You hear me! This babe don’t belong to ‘em, it’s mind to do with as I please. I’ve already found a buyer for it, anyways. Seems elvish children fetch quite the price ‘round here!” Master smiled evilly at Taelin. “You may be worth far more than I realized. Just think of the coins I could get for breedin’ you!” With that, the man grabbed hold of Rowley’s shirt and dragged the healer from the room.

Taelin collapsed to the ground and cried out in rage as he pounded the stone floor harshly. For almost two years he had swallowed his rage about the treatment he received, and this had been the final straw. His child had been taken from them. The elf knew that he would never again see the tiny face of his first-born. Never would he be called “Ada” by tiny lips.

Daela had collapsed into sleep after the birth. She was so exhausted, and weak after so many long hours. Taelin raged around the room. Had there been anything besides the bed in the room, he would have smashed it against the walls. How dare they treat him like this? How dare they keep his child from him. A child created in a moment of pure love, not some forced act of submission.

The door opened once more. Three of the men entered, all glaring at the elf as he raged across the room. Stink and his brother, Sneak, each grabbed an end of the bed, and lifted it carefully. They had been directed that Daela was to be moved to a cleaner room down the hall where she would be permitted to recover before anyone was allowed to touch her. After all, she was the Master’s wife.

The third man, Pain, simply stood by the door and watched the elf savagely beating his fists against the walls. Never had any of them seen Taelin seem anything but quiet and submissive. They had never suspected him of possessing such a temper. A temper that might cause harm to one of them in the future.

“I would suggest you stop, pretty little elf. ‘Else you might harm yourself. Or force someone else to harm you.” Pain warned with an amused smile on his face.

Taelin turned slowly, and walked purposefully as close as his restraints would allow him to get to Pain. He glared at him for a long minute, before spitting at the man’s feet. A challenge that Pain would not let stand. Slowly, Pain removed his belt, and wrapped it around his hand once before advancing on the elf.

“That was very foolish, elf. Now you will pay for your insolence.” He raised his arm, and sent the belt flying through the air, until it finally came into contact with the pale skin with a sickeningly loud slap.

Taelin simply stood there, as the blood slowly dripped from his new wound. His body was already numb from the rage surging through his veins. He glared at the man with the belt. This time, he would not submit. He would not cry out, and he would not show fear.

Another snap of the belt, and another, and another. Still, Taelin stood there stoically. The beating continued for nearly an hour, and when Pain finally dropped the belt to the ground, the elvish body was covered in weeping welts and deep lashes. Yet, still the elf stood there, challenging the man with his eyes.

“I see we underestimated ye, elf. All this time, we was thinkin’ ye just a pretty little plaything. Now I see ye’ve some spirit left in ye. Good. It’ll make it more enjoyable when I claim ye as my own.”

Pain slowly advanced upon Taelin, forcing the silent elf against the wall. He tightened the chains to restrict the elf’s movement, smiling with a queer sort of enjoyment at the little hiss of pain that escaped the elf’s lips as his limbs were stretched. Taelin now stood, spread eagle facing the wall. He was helpless to resist and could do nothing but endure whatever happened next.

He didn’t have to wait long, for he heard the soft rustle of clothing being dropped to the floor. Strong hands slid across his smooth lash-marked belly and up to his nipples, while a very hard sex was pressed against the back of his leg. Closing his eyes, Taelin knew what would happen next, and braced himself.

No matter how many time it had happened before, his body still screamed with pain as he was harshly entered in one swift thrust. These men never took care to prepare him, he was here simply for their enjoyment, and they seemed to enjoy inflicting the greatest amount of pain they could, upon him.

Had the chains not supported him at his wrists, Taelin would have collapsed to the floor as his body began to tremble with the pain that spread slowly from his lower half. He leaned his face against the cold stones, clenching his teeth in an effort to keep from crying out. No, he wouldn’t give Pain that satisfaction.

Closing his eyes, the elf tried to concentrate on his breathing, as he was slammed into repeatedly. He could feel the slow trickle of blood that ran down the back of his legs, which made him sick. The grunts of exertion coming from behind him, told him that Pain was nearing his climax. Good. That meant this would be over soon.

Another few harsh thrusts, and the man’s quivering length spurt forth his burning seed within the elf. By now, Taelin’s entire body was aching, his lash wounds were screaming, and his newly violated entrance burned something terrible. It was all he could do to keep from crying out as the semi-hard shaft was quickly pulled from his body.

Pain dressed himself and left the elf, chained in such a vulnerable position. Taeln’s head collapsed limply to his chest once the door shut. He was exhausted from the day’s emotions. He had watched the birth of his firstborn, but had been denied even the chance to hold his child, even the knowledge of whether it was a male or a female. He had been separated from the one person who made life bearable for him, and then beaten and violated once more.

As he cried softly into the silence, his thoughts all churning at such speed that he couldn’t separate one from the other, he longed for death. To be released from the agony of which he lived. Yet in the silence, his mothers voice came back to him once more.

“There are many lives you have yet to save. There is still much you must do!”