Feud

Chapter 7: Laithad en Maethor [Release of the Warrior]

"Ai, Valar! You reek! What is the matter with you that you must always heave out your insides when we have our little sessions?" He kicked at the mess on the ground and managed to catch Legolas' knee in the process. "I would think you dislike me, if I did not know better," he crooned in mockingly flirtatious tones as he reconnected the chains to the posts.

Legolas groaned. {How many hours have I been here, how many more until dawn? Not enough, and still far too many,} he thought in desolate anguish. He shifted his head to see Ailinyéro, standing off to the side a bit. His captor seemed to be considering his options, but Legolas knew this was all a ruse; he had all his activities for the night carefully planned to the last detail. The torture had never progressed in this fashion before; never had Ailinyéro touched him except to strike him or kick him. He had never been violated like this before, and he began shaking uncontrollably as he worried what was to come next.

"Really, something must be done," Ailinyéro snorted and wrinkled his nose in distaste again. "This is totally unbearable in this small space. I know, let me just open up the door and allow some fresh air in for awhile," his words sounded jaunty and gleeful as he strode over to the door and flung it wide.

A chorus of mirth rose from outside and Legolas felt his heart clench; the warriors were being invited to watch. He could hear the sounds of jostling at the entrance as the winners of the earlier bets claimed what apparently had been the prize: a spot inside the small doorway. They added their own comments of disgust at the smell and called for Ailinyéro to make him clean it up, preferably by re-ingesting the regurgitated liquid. The elf seemed to consider the idea momentarily, but rejected it as he had more interesting ideas for his next move.

He faced his prisoner again and made his customary circuit around him like a hungry predator closing in on its kill. With careless fingers he traced across his back again, absently rubbing in some clots of crystalline salt still clinging to the wounds while lifting Legolas' chin to observe the reaction in his eyes as the pain jolted through him. Legolas could see the lust building again in the elf's visage, watching him suffer.

The warriors were still and silent, ogling what they had only heard through walls of stone before and were rapt with anticipation. Legolas could see them in his peripheral vision, for the room was furnished such that his position was aligned in profile to the door. {What kind of beings are they to sit and enjoy this? How could such cold-heartedness be found in elves?} Legolas felt as though everything he had ever known to be true had suddenly been revealed as a farce. He felt he had an inkling of how orcs could have been shaped from the twisting of such elves as these.

When the door to the storeroom had burst open, Fearfaron had breathed a prayer thankfully. It seemed that Ailinyéro was to end this episode of torment early. He had become alarmed to hear Legolas cry out in a voice of pained desperation for his captor to stop. Legolas never did so before. The moaning and wailing of the two elves as they spent their passion had made him cringe. Never had Legolas' been party to this obscene gratification before. He knew Legolas had suffered in the aftermath by the discordant hiccuping and choking of sickness emanating from within. The carpenter had been on the verge of sending for a healer when the portal opened.

The sight of the warriors hustling forward with raucous cries and jokes immediately dispelled the illusion of mercy and the carpenter could not comprehend what was going on. He moved out from the shadows of the stables and carefully noted each of the elven warriors in the yard. He wanted to be sure he could identify them later if they sought to hide their involvement. They were crowded around the open door, and the lack of sounds from inside was if anything worse than the previous cacophony which had disturbed the night. Fearfaron had the distinct impression that whatever Ailinyéro had planned for the fallen archer went far beyond the limits of the right to chastisement. He took off quickly towards the barracks at once.

Ailinyéro tousled the archer's hair with one hand while playing with the dagger using the other, drawing it slowly back and forth against Legolas' neck at the collarbone. Returning to stand in front of Legolas, he dropped his hand back to his own body, fondling himself, as he quickly became hard again. He placed himself closer to his prisoner, smiling as Legolas stiffened and pulled back as far as the chains would allow. A few laughs broke from the audience and Legolas felt a wave of panic wash through him. The dagger continued to caress the side of Legolas' neck but with slightly greater pressure, and Ailinyéro could feel the pulse transmitted through the metal to his hand each time the blade came to rest on the throbbing artery.

"You seem excited," he said in a hoarse whisper, "or terrified! Perhaps it is some of both? Surely, we have known each other long enough for this more intimate contact, Hecilo. I think you should demonstrate your dedication to your fallen comrades, to my Andamaitë; do you not agree? You may pleasure me; I grant you this delight," he murmured harshly, stilling the blade and drawing closer.

The carpenter hammered his fist on the door of the Watch Commander's Office frantically, certain that urgency was called for. The elf answered his summons with irritation, barely listening as Fearfaron described what he had heard through the storeroom walls.

"It is nothing new, and whether I approve or not is immaterial. The Council has granted him the right. I can not over rule them!" the commander stated with exasperation. He did not know why the abhorrent practice had to be carried out in his area. "You are here almost every time, Fearfaron. You know this is the way it always goes; there is nothing I can do to interfere with Ailinyéro!" He had heard all about the chastisement and what Ailinyéro did, pleasuring himself while gloating in the fallen archer's pain. It was a monthly activity after all.

"I have been here and I have said and done nothing, for twelve years." The carpenter was not appeased and continued to argue. "Does that not indicate something to you, Commander?" he asked angrily. "This is different! It is a marker year, and whatever he is doing is not the usual routine! I believe Legolas is being forced to join Ailinyéro's sick pleasures! There is a whole crowd gathered around gawking! I do not believe the Law allows for such things!"

"I know there are some few warriors engaged in a sort of subsidiary activity outside the room," the Commander frowned in conjunction with his words. "I will make it a point to reprimand them for this unwholesome gaming," he tried to placate the carpenter.

Fearfaron shook his head and started again, trying to convince the Commander to at least investigate. He felt the passing minutes as hours and hoped no further harm was accruing to Legolas in the interim. As the carpenter went on to describe the inclusion of the warriors beyond the usual wagering, the Commander became concerned. Sadistic behavior was not something he chose to encourage among the guard. He beckoned two of his soldiers and led the way toward the stableyard.

With the door wide, the activity within the storeroom was audible throughout the area long before the chamber could be seen.

Ailinyéro's breath was ragged and loud as the tip of his penis brushed against Legolas' lips and the archer turned his head away violently with a cry of disgust and anger. Ailinyéro allowed the dagger's blade to bite down just enough for its sharpness to be felt and a thin line of red to break through.

Legolas was desperate; he would not do this.

"Tyavo nin!" [Taste me!] Ailinyéro demanded. "Lavo ten, Hecilo!" [Lick it, Outcast!]

"Avon caro!" [I will not do it!] Legolas held his head away and shook it once, recoiling as his cheek brushed the elf's organ and Ailinyéro gasped. He felt the dagger press deeper and a spasm of fear lanced through him.

The Watch Commander, Fearfaron, and the two warriors had reached the stables as these words rang through the night clearly. They all stopped abruptly and exchanged stunned glances. The Commander signaled one of the two soldiers to go for the healer and to rouse the Council of the Elders and sprinted over the grounds to the open doorway, his two remaining companions in his wake.

He shoved the gaping warriors aside and clamped his hand down on Ailinyéro's shoulder, spinning him around. He took in the elf's exposed erection, which he was frantically attempting to conceal behind his leggings again, the dagger gleaming in the torchlight, and Legolas, bound, naked, and bloody. The Commander's face colored in outrage and he looked as though he might burst as he surveyed the sullen soldiers collected near the entrance.

"Out!" he shouted, his wrath echoing off the stone walls. The warriors obeyed instantly and Ailinyéro also attempted to break free from the soldier's grasp and escape.

"Not you!" the Commander ground out between his clenched jaws. "Release him at once!" he ordered. At this Ailinyéro, having readjusted his attire and covered himself, reclaimed some of his dignity and obstinately faced the Commander.

"This is not a matter over which you have any authority; it is a private concern and I am within the Law!" he countered.

"Hah!" Fearfaron barked his contempt at Ailinyéro. "The Council has been sent for; we shall see how they judge your clear abuse of our Laws and your own vows! Are you not the one who demanded an oath of celibacy? Yet you are here forcing him into breaking it yourself! This is unconscionable!"

"You have no right to speak out against me! I will not hear any of your comments; you are too weak to adequately demand vengeance for your own son!" responded Ailinyéro. The Commander was disturbed by these words and shoved Ailinyéro away from him.

"His is not a sentence designed for vengeance!" he said sternly and Fearfaron nodded. "I demand that you undo these bonds at once; whatever you were here to do has been stopped."

Ailinyéro seemed to finally grasp that they were not going to leave him with his prisoner and tried to assume an air of nonchalance as though it meant nothing to him. He reached for the key in his pocket and tossed it down on the ground at the Commander's feet, daring his next move. Before anything could occur, Fearfaron grabbed the key and quickly removed the manacles from Legolas.

The archer sat back on his heels for a moment and rubbed his arms and wrists. He kept his head bowed low, but was glaring up darkly at Ailinyéro from behind the thick cascade of locks that fell forward. He saw that Ailinyéro still held his dagger, and a scowl of frenzied ire covered his face. Legolas sprang from the floor and snatched the knife out of his tormentor's hand and in the next second had it pressed sharply into his throat as his eyes flashed.

"I believe this is mine," he spoke in a voice draped with the bitterest hatred any of the elves present had ever heard before, and then he stepped back slowly and lowered the dagger, struggling to regain his composure.

Legolas darted a look at Fearfaron and stooped down to take up his clothing. He raced to the darkened corners of the room and hurriedly pulled on his leggings. Slipping the tunic on proved to be unwise and he sharply sucked in his breath as he stretched his arms to shrug into it. Fearfaron and the Commander looked at each other but made no move to go towards Legolas, uncertain if he would allow them to help. He came forward when he was decent and sat down on the stool to pull on his boots and spied the feather in the dust. He lunged forward and scooped it up and gingerly used his fingers to clean it off, realigning the fronds before working it carefully back into his hair.

All of this had transpired in silence save for the subdued cries of the archer's discomfort when his clothing moved against the painful lashes. He stood up and stared into Ailinyéro's face defiantly, and the elf tried to scoff at him. There was something chillingly frightening in the still concentration the archer maintained as he gazed at his former captor, however, and Ailinyéro found he could not maintain eye contact.

The Commander coughed discreetly. "Why don't we leave this room and wait outside. The Council has been summoned, and a healer as well," he said calmly, and Legolas gave a brief nod without meeting his gaze. Fearfaron reached over and caught Legolas by the arm gently, and the archer was so surprised by this he did not have time to react before he was through the door. Then he glanced cautiously at the carpenter to gauge his state of mind, and found only the familiar expression of sorrow there.

"Thank-you," Legolas said humbly, but loud enough for everyone in the yard to hear. He felt keenly embarrassed that his situation was such open knowledge, but compared to what had been planned it was as nothing. He was truly grateful to Fearfaron and did not mind for them all to know it. Truthfully, within his gratitude to the carpenter was also carried his contempt for all the others that stood by and did nothing. He did not mind for them to understand that, either.

Fearfaron only nodded and stood next to Legolas with his arms crossed against his chest. He hoped the Council would hurry up for the archer's sake. The entire barracks was awakened by now and a much larger crowd had formed. If it went on like this much longer, everyone in the King's Halls would be up, including Thranduil. The carpenter was fairly certain Legolas would prefer this not come to pass.

Similar thoughts must have occurred to the Commander, because he began clearing the area and sending everyone not directly involved back to their quarters and talans. The soldiers caught in the storeroom stood to one side in a group and did not speak. Their dour countenances plainly indicated that they knew their punishment would be serious.

They stole hostile glares at Ailinyéro and Legolas; however, the archer was not cowed under their scrutiny and he let his eyes speak for him, telling them he would not forget them, ever. The smoldering fury in the quiescent archer's stance was more terrifying than would have been a vocal display of insults and threats. There was no doubt in any of their minds that, should they encounter Legolas out in the forest beyond the boundaries of the Woodland Realm, they would be in serious peril.

At last the Council members, or at least the three involved in this area of Law and Custom, arrived and Fearfaron began his explanation. Ailinyéro attempted to interrupt but was summarily silenced. The Eldar elders did not like this particular aspect of the Law regarding kin-slaying and were only too glad to have an excuse to revoke Ailinyéro's right. Fearfaron stated that Ailinyéro was not using physical punishment alone and had forced his captive into an unwanted sexual act. He repeated what he had heard and described what he had seen in detail.

Legolas refused to speak or answer any questions concerning the matter, other than to confirm that Fearfaron spoke the truth, and this made the Councilors highly uncomfortable. He had no intention of detailing the humiliating things Ailinyéro had done to him. Legolas no longer had any faith in their laws, and felt they did not apply to him since he had been banished from the Woodland Realm. He did not believe there was any justice for him within the system that had already passed its harshest judgement and sentence upon him.

The Commander also gave evidence, and then turned to each of the twelve soldiers involved. Knowing their only chance for leniency lay in full disclosure, they also described the abuses perpetrated by Ailinyéro, while naturally attempting to downplay their own. The healer, who had arrived shortly after the Councilors, removed Legolas tunic and carefully catalogued every injury, verifying the presence of salt still encrusting the wounds and scratches left by the dagger along his neck. Legolas was grateful she did not insist on examining similar ones upon his genitalia.

Finally, the Councilors entered the storeroom and took note of the evidence there. They did not need the healer to identify either the pungent aroma of bile and stomach acids or the smoky scented remnants of semen and sweat. One of the elves leaned over and took up the scourge from where it had been cast aside. He grimaced in open distaste at the blood staining the weapon, both fresh from the recent actions and deeply ingrained in the leather from years of use. He openly glared at Ailinyéro.

Upon seeing the whip, Legolas boldly stepped up and held out his hand for it. The elves were somewhat taken aback for there was no precedent for such a thing. Unable to fathom a reason to refuse, however, they gave the archer what he wanted. Fearfaron looked questioningly at Legolas, but he refused to meet the carpenter's eyes.

With a last consultation together that took less than five minutes, the Council unanimously declared the right to chastisement had been abused, the oath of celibacy had been forcibly broken, and Ailinyéro stood accused of attempted rape. Such a crime was second only to kin slaying, since rape usually resulted in death for the victim. The idea that an elf could come this close to committing such an act was deeply disturbing to the Council members and they were determined to eliminate such a horrific element from their society. The sentence was life-long banishment from the Woodland realm. The shock on the elf's face was complete and he broke down in hysterical tears.

He had not considered his actions to be rape, but on hearing others describe what he had done he suddenly saw what he had become, he pleaded. He begged mercy of the Council, explaining the depth of his grief was the cause of his madness. He agreed to leave the Woodland Realm and accept the judgement of the Valar in Valinor rather than to be exiled from his people and yet remain in Middle Earth.

The Council accepted his plea and Ailinyéro cast off his false name, desiring to take back his true one again. At this Legolas at last spoke, and demanded the request be denied. In all Ailinyéro's tearful begging he had not uttered one word of remorse to Legolas nor asked to be forgiven. The Council was concerned at this, but would not revoke the elf's true name permanently. He would resume his former identity after twelve years had passed. He was ordered to leave for the Grey-Havens in three days time.

The fate of the warriors would be left to the discretion of the Commander, and he quickly revoked each one's commission in the guard. They were to clear out of the barracks at once, never to serve again.

Legolas made no comment at this. His features showed no sign of his feelings regarding the verdict. He looked solemnly into the eyes of each of the Council members; and they grew uncomfortable under his scrutiny and left the stableyard, herding Ailinyéro in front of them. He glanced at the Commander and the muttering knot of former soldiers but made no remark, either vocal or otherwise. He felt the warriors' punishment was just. Ailinyéro's fate was another matter.

In his heart Legolas felt betrayed and admonished himself for expecting anything different. No one had bothered to ask how the verdict would be enforced; was the guard going to escort Ailinyéro to the Havens? He could easily just leave and relocate in 'Lorien where no one knew his history. {What of Andamaitë? How is her Release to be confirmed without Ailinyéro?} Legolas had stopped believing that Ailinyéro would ever admit to his mate's Release after the second month of torture. However, none of these wise Council members had even pretended to consider this.

With a sudden startled thought Legolas wondered if they secretly wished Ailinyéro had been able to complete his unspeakable act so that he would just die. It was the second time that day this sense of being wished dead filled him and he shivered. Fearfaron noticed and sighed quietly, reaching out and taking him by the arm again.

"Come, there is no need to be here any longer. The healer instructed you to rest," the carpenter said as he led Legolas out of the stableyard. Legolas went along with him without resisting, not even thinking of where they were heading until the were beyond the great Hall and back in the city collected around it. Legolas suddenly halted and pulled back.

"My things," he said, pointing towards the compound. Fearfaron nodded and turned him back around, still guiding him gently, and Legolas found it welcome and allowed it. The carpenter was the only one, other than Ailinyéro, who had touched him in twelve years. They reached the Sentinel and the carpenter let him go while he collected his belongings. As soon as he was back on the ground, he replaced his hand and led the archer back into the city. Legolas sent a tentative look in his guide's direction, but Fearfaron was watching the path, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. They continued in silence until reaching a well constructed but modest talan and Fearfaron indicated for Legolas to climb up.

Once inside, the carpenter took Legolas' arm again and led him onto one of the side platforms. No lamps were lit and only the sheen of the moon illuminated the simple room, revealing a rugged bed and a chest for personal items. A basin for water stood on a sturdy table near the tree's trunk, and gossamer netting was caught up in the low branches overhanging the platform. It was a small but comfortable looking sleeping chamber and the carpenter brought Legolas to the bed and sat him down, seating himself next to him, exhaling loudly. It had become the most characteristic mannerism of the carpenter since his son's death, this intermittent release of sorrowful air from his body. It was as though he could not find a way to vent the atmosphere around him of his sadness, and it choked him.

"This was Annaldír's chamber, when he was an elfling. He lived in the barracks once he joined the guard, of course, but used to come home for holidays or just to get away for a time," he said and Legolas dropped his head. The elf must feel appalled to have him in his own son's room, seated on his own son's bed. He got up to leave but the carpenter grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

"No," he said calmly. "I have not asked you here to hold blame over you or to punish you in any way." He sighed again. "There are things you should be told. There are things I want to tell you about Annaldír. You need to rest and this is the best place for it. You have endured enough for one night. I think you should try to sleep now and we will speak in the morning." The carpenter patted his knee feebly and gave a sad half smile before getting up. "If you need anything, just call for me and I will come," he said softly as he rose.

Reaching up, he untied the netting and let it flow down to form a screen around the bed as Legolas pulled his feet up onto the mattress and rested his chin on his knees, watching. Fearfaron then, extending his arm slowly and carefully, briefly rested his hand on the top of the archer's head, and left the room.

Legolas was not sure what to make of what Fearfaron had said, but he was too tired to try to understand it just then. He yawned and leaned his bow and quiver next to the bed against the tree's trunk and slipped his hunting knife under the pillow. Sore and stiff even after the healer's treatment in the stableyard, his back and shoulders burned as he slipped out of his tunic and pulled off his boots. With a soft sigh of his own he turned over on his stomach and laid his head on the pillow.

He had not slept on such a bed in twelve years. He inhaled the scent of the linens and with a slight skip of his heart realized he could still detect the distinct essence of Annaldír, infused into the bed after so many centuries of sleeping there. He could almost imagine that if he raised his head he would see Annaldír standing there in the room. He decided this was not a frightening feeling, and allowed himself to dissolve into sleep. Tbc.