Gone

Gone

Chapter 9
Author: Frosty the Obstetrician
Rated: NC-17
Codes: Aragorn, Faramir, Boromir, Legolas, OC, AU, N/C.
Summary: A series of events in Middle-earth leads to a darkened King, the departure of the elves, and a realization by those who remain.
Author's Notes: Elvish translations are in parentheses.

*

Boromir was angry. Rain pelted the windows of his room as he thought about what his brother had told him. Stormy eyes stared at the flickering candles that lit the dark walls, painting them with moving shadows. He felt comforted by the darkness. Faramir, though, seemed unnerved by it.

"What are we going to do?" he asked, entwining his fingers.

Looking up at his brother, Boromir frowned. "About what?"

"About Aragorn." Frustrated, Faramir stood and began pacing. "Something is wrong with him. Very wrong. We have to do something."

"You assume something is wrong because he hit on your girlfriend." Pausing he added, "Literally. That doesn't mean he is an unfit King."

He stopped and pointed a finger in his brother's face. "Just this morning you were telling me of how Aragorn has changed. And now that there is proof of his turn, you tell me not to worry? The Aragorn I knew did not hit women, and did not then ten them."

Boromir sighed and looked up tiredly. "Are you sure you can trust what this elf says?"

"You doubt her?" he replied, frowning in disbelief. "I was so sure you would understand."

"I don't doubt, I only wonder." He sighed and leaned forward as Faramir sat across from him. "Look, I know it's likely that what she says is true. I have witnessed a change in him myself. But what would you have us do? Throw him in a cell? The cwoulwould never stand for it."

"Can we sit by and allow him to continue like this? What if he hurts Eldarion?"

"Or your elf, am I correct?" Boromir looked away from Faramir's glare and exhaled heavily. "He wouldn't hurt his own child."

"You hope." Shaking his head, Faramir followed his brother's gaze out the window. "Why do you distrust Idril so? She has done nothing to warrant your animosity."

"She slept with you." His voice was quiet and tinged with vexation. Boromir's dark eyes fell upon the younger Captain. "If Aragorn is ed ded dangerous, that makes you a direct target."

"So you're worried about me?" When he didn't answer, Faramir grunted. "I wouldn't have imagined."

Boromir pursed his lips. "You're my brother."

"If it concerns you this much, then you must believe Aragorn is capable of something." He noticed Boromir's eyes flicker. "Then why are you hesitant to believe Idril or do anything about this?"

His jaw clenched as he answered. "Becau don don't want to believe it." Kicking at a table, he spat, "What does it matter, anyways? Even if Aragorn is brought back, something else will go wrong. Something is always amiss."

Faramir sat back as his expression turned sad. "If this was a week earlier, I would feel the same way. Fortunately, I've had a change of heart."

His brother narrowed his eyes. "Are you saying you want to save this place because of her?"

He answered without hesitation. "Yes."

Boromir grunted. "So you've found love. Congratulations."

"I care for her. I want her to be safe. I want this city to be restored to what it once was. Can you fault me for that?"

"No," he answered, "But can you fault me for how I feel? There has been little happiness here in many years."

"So you would give up, then? Allow whatever happened to Aragorn to happen to us all?" He wasn't angry, but saddened by how his brother was reacting.

Boromir looked up. "I will never give up, Faramir. You know me better than that." Standing, he walked to the window and crossed his arms, looking out at the stormy sky. "I will watch Aragorn. You keep an eye on your elf."

He stood and regarded his brother. "Thank you."

The elder waved him off. "This doesn't mean I approve of your relationship," he said, turning with a raised eyebrow, "Because I don't."

Faramir smiled softly. "I understand." Gathering his cloak, he opened the door and knit his brows, looking over his shoulder. "Be careful."

He did not answer, but nodded his reply. When the door closed behind Faramir, he turned back to the rain-streaked window and cursed under his breath. From where he stood, things looked to only get worse.

*

She didn't open her eyes right away. Her body felt worn and her mind foggy, and the bed she was in was no longer warm. The air was different; it was dusty and dry. Something was wrong.

Her sharp ears listened for anything that would tell her where she was. Idril knew it was no longer night, though there was no sunlight to speak of. Her shut eyes felt the cold of dark upon them, and her skin was cool. She breathed slowly and deliberately, and then she heard it. Someone's feet scuffing the dirt floor.

"I know you're awake." The voice jarred her, for it was so familiar and it knew she was no longer asleep.

Idril opened her eyes and raised her heavy head. Bars obscured the view she had of the King, who stood outside of the cell she occupied. "Where am I?" she breathed, pushing herself into a sitting position. Looking down, she noticed she was still in her nightclothes.

His pale blue eyes followed her gaze. "You're still in the city."

Knitting her brow, she looked up with a challenge. "Why am I in a cell? How did you get me here?"

His smile was chiding. "One question at a time, love."

"Did I do something wrong?" she asked quietly, thinking perhaps he had arrested her.

Aragorn's eyes saddened. "Yes. But I doubt it is what you think." He sighed and pursed his lips. "You are as blind as the rest."

"How did you get me here?" Idril decided to take it slow, see if she could understand what was happening. What his intentions were.

He touched the cell door, sliding his finger down one of the dusty bars. "I was raised by your kind, Idril. I have ways." He stepped closer and looked down on her. "Stealth. Silence. A slight drop of poison on the tongue."

She could feel herself growing in fear. "Why have you brought me here?"

Pushing back from the bars, he began to pace the small building that housed them. "So you would understand your place. The reason why you are here, in my city."

"And what is the reason?" she breathed.

He stopped and approached the cell. "Compensation for all I have lost. Now ask me why you are in this cell."

Idril swallowed heavily, whispering, "Why am I in this cell?"

"You are in this cell so I can punish you for your sins."

Anger and fear mixed and rushed to the surface. "What has happened to you?" she demanded, standing and staring into his unwavering eyes, "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I have nothing left!" he growled, slamming his fists against the bars. Idril trembled but did not step back. "Darkness still roves this land. Even you are not blind to that. How can I fight it when the loss is so great?" Taking a deep breath, he regained his composure. "The Valar have seen this. They have sent you so I may take comfort."

She decided to ignore his insinuation and concentrate on something else. "What of Eldarion?" she asked, trying to reach to the sanity within. "What of your son? He is not yet lost."

"Arda is fading. Soon all will crumble into the depths of that which we fear. I have accepted that even my son will meet this end, and though it pains me I know it cannot be avoided. Gondorl dil die, and along with it all who inhabit its lands. I love Eldarion. I mourn him already." True sorrow lay within his eyes. Idril knew Aragorn believed what he was saying.

"There is always hope." She clenched her jaw when he looked up. "Do not do this."

A small smile returned to his lips. "You don't even know what I have planned."

Idril inhaled deeply. "Then tell me."

"I will hurt you. I will hurt you for taking solace in another. Then I will use you for my own ends."

His cold words chilled her. Licking her dry lips, she asked, "What would Arwen say?"

Aragorn's expression grew hard. "Arwen is dead."

"Then what would your people say? Your friends, and those who serve you?"

He stepped close to the bars and titled his face as he regarded her icily. "It matters not."

Scared, Idril tried a last resort. "Boromir and Faramir would not approve."

Surprisingly, a grin spread across his face. "Ah yes, Boromir and Faramir. No, I don't suppose they would approve of this. Specifically the younger of the Captains, I imagine." Idril knew her eyes betrayed her thoughts, and Aragorn noticed. "Do not think you are alone in this punishment. Faramir has gone against my wishes, and he will be dealt with."

"Please," she answered quietly, "Don't hurt him."

Aragorn's voice dropped to a whisper. "I think you should worry about yourself."

"Hurting me will not make things better, Elessar. You must realize that." She watched as he pulled a set of keys from his pocket. "Please, think about this."

Pursing his lips, he looked down at the keys in his hand. "I have thought about it. Too often." His sharp blue eyes met her dark ones. "You are right. This will not make things better. But I care no longer."

Idril stepped back as he pushed the key into the lock and clicked it open. Her eyes raced furiously around the dungeon, looking for any hope of escape. There weo wio windows, only a large wooden door on the far end of the room. She tightened her fists as he swung the door open. She was prepared to fight.

Aragorn pocketed the keys and stepped into the cell. "I am prepared to be civil about this, if you do not fight me. The pain won't last long, and I can make it good for both of us."

"I will not allow this," she replied, gritting her teeth.

"Then you will suffer." Calmly, he began to approach. She clenched her hands and, when he reached for her, swung at his face. His skills were as honed as an elf's, though, and he was quick, catching her fist and using the momentum to swing her around and yank her back towards his chest. "Do not attempt to play warrior with me," he breathed into her ear, "Fighting will only get me angry."

She jerked in his grasp, but he was strong. "Let me go," she growled.

Aragorn laughed softly. "You know I won't do that." Taking hold of her waist, he pulled her back with him until they exited the cell. Idril struggled the entire way until he threw her down into the dirt. She stood up, eyeing the door that was behind him as he picked up rope from a table. "I brought a gag as well," he said, wrapping the rope around his hand, "But I think I might like to hear you scream." He smiled. "No one will hear you down here."

He started towards her. Panicked, she sidestepped him and ran by, slamming into the door. She jerked on the handle and then, in a painful dawning comprehension, realized Aragorn had not come after her. Idril twisted the knob in her hand. It would not open.

The chiming of keys behind her sent chills along her spine. "Do you thinwoulwould be so stupid?" he asked, and she heard the keys clatter on the table. "I think now you realize just how futile these attempts to escape will be. If you would prefer to keep your health, I suggest you accept this and come to me immediately."

She turned, finding herself actually considering doing as she was told. There was no way out. No one would find them down here. And he was stronger than she was. Still, though, she knew she could not just submit. "No."

Her voice had been so quiet, but he had heard her. Anger flickered in his eyes as he rushed forward and grabbed her, jerking her away from the door and throwing her face down to the dirt. Horrified, she tried in vain to push herself up, but he had straddled her legs and pressed his hand to the centre of her back, holding her down.

Idril froze when she realized she could not get up. "That's better," he said when she stopped moving. Letting go of her back, he grabbed her wrists and pulled them behind her, tieing them together with the rope. When she was bound, he got off her and rolled her to her back. Frightened for her life, she laid there, silent and uncomfortable. His eyes raked over her. "It pains me to hurt you. I would rather see you enjoy this."

Her eyes widened at his incredulousness, but she did not retort. She knew it would only anger him. He sat beside her and she noticed his gaze soften as he took in her form. "Such beauty," he breathed, tracing his finger along her pale, bare shoulder. "Nothing is so lovely as an elven female."

Idril's jaw tightened as he pushed the thin strap from her shoulder. She fidgeted, but he did not seem to notice. Aragorn's eyes followed his hand as he touched her, smoothing gently along her skin. He seemed entranced by what he was doing, as she bit her lip in worry. This was far from what she expected. He had threatened her with pain. She did not want to be touched as though she was his lover.

When he moved his hand to her leg and began to slowly lift the rim of her nightdress up, she panicked. Jumping into a sitting position, Idril pulled her legs away. "I'm begging you," she whispered, tears rimming her eyes, "Don't do this."

Aragorn's eyes were sorrowful as he leaned forward, touching his warm palm to her cheek. "Forgive me. I had threatened to hurt you, but I know realize my error. I could never intentionally injure a being such as yourself. I could never tarnish your beauty." He sighed heavily and dropped his hand. "I will not hit you."

"Will you let me go?" she asked, shaking.

His answer stunned her. "No. You have been given to me for comfort, and I will use you for that. We will be ther her as one."

"You just said you wouldn't hurt me!" she cried, feeling horror well up inside of her.

"I will give you pleasure as well," he answered, looking at her as though she didn't understand. "I was angry before, intent on giving you pain, but I see differently now. I can give you love and bliss. I can serve you until this world dies away to nothing."

Sniffing back her fear, she asked, "Does it mean nothing to you when I say I do not want this?"

"You think you don't, but you are wrong." He pushed her back down to the floor and she went, feeling herself growing weak. Aragorn climbed over her, careful not to press his weight against her arms and she closed her eyes. Leaning down to her ear, he breathed, "I will make this better than Faramir ever could."

Her eyes jerked open. "No," she growled, struggling beneath him, "Stop!"

Aragorn didn't bother answering her cries. Spurred on by her movements, he gripped her hair and held her steady as he plunged his lips onto hers. His presence was imposing and suffocating as he tried to force her mouth to accept his advances. When she refused to allow him entrance, he jerked the hair in his hands and she gasped out, effectively allowing him to kiss her deeply. She moaned against the invasion and tried to turn away, but he held her steady. He tasted like desperation, and she knew she would not get away from this.

She inhaled a grateful breath when he released her. Aragorn wasted no time in resuming his touch, snaking his hands under her dress and, without hesitation, jerking the fabric all the way up her body until it pooled thinly about her breasts. Idril begged him to stop as he attacked her flesh with his mouth, sucking heatedly on the upraised centres of her breasts and molded his hands firmly to her hips. His heat was like a blanket, covering her from the cold of the dungeon. It was inescapable, though. Her eyes gazed at the dank ceiling above, but all she could focus on was the assault being performed on her.

He looked up, his eyes hazy. "Tell me what you like," he said, fingering a breast, "I want to please you."

"If you want to please me, let me go!" she answered, unable to keep silent.

He pinched her nipple, causing her to jump. "Do you want me to touch you as Faramir did?" Aragorn watched her closely as he lowered his hand, smoothing it along here bee belly, then dipped lower. His finger ran along the outer folds of her flesh as she tried to close her legs to him. "It could be so good if you would not resist."

Idril could feel her legs grow weak as he stroked her. She bit her lip and he smiled, then pushed his strong fingers into her without warning. Groaning out at the intrusion, she arched back and tried to tighten her legs to avoid the feeling, but it was no use. She could feel him within her as he smoothed the tips of his fingers along her inner walls. "Does that feel good?" he asked, drawing her wetness out.

"No," she replied, her voice tense. Her body was responding to his gentle touch, and she could feel herself growing with despair. Aragorn's thrusts were probing and insistent, intent on giving her unwanted pleasure. Her mind told her in no uncertain terms that she was being raped, and Idril wanted nothing more than to stop this, but still his tender rubbing had an unwanted impact. She breathed out in desperation, "Stop."

He lowered his mouth to her chest, biting delicately at her breast. His tongue lapped in pace with the motion of his hand as he tried to coerce whimpers of enjoyment from her lips. "Let go," he breathed, inserting another finger into her. She felt sick as he looked up and smiled. "I can feel your wetness. I know you want this."

Disgusted, she jerked her leg back and managed to kick at his arm, removing him from her body. Immediately, the unwanted sensations stopped. Her breathing laboured, Idril laid there silently, awaiting her punishment. She knew she had made him angry.

Surprisingly, though, he only shook his head. "Why do you fight me?" he asked, once again crawling over her, "I could be so gentle with you."

Straining against the pain in her arms, she whispered, "I don't want you to be."

He frowned as tears lined her eyes. "You would rather I hurt you?" he asked, sadness is qis quiet voice.

Idril grit her teeth and replied, "I would rather you let me go!" A stray tear fell down her cheek.

His warm hand held her face steady as he kissed the wetness from her skin. She tried to pull away, but when his lips met hers he was insistent and demanding. Tired and weak, she couldn't help but allow his tongue to slide against hers. She could taste the salt of her tears.

Idril shuddered when he pulled away. "I will not let you go," he breathed, smoothing a hand along her hair, "You will be mine until the day this earth dies."

At that moment, she had difficulty thinking otherwise. He was all over her, his touch, his smell, and he was all she could see. Hearing the parting of his pants made all her defenses crumble, and as he parted her legs and gently touched the tip of his hardness to her, she began to cry. With the last of her energy, she tried desperately to get away.

But he was too strong. With an iron grip underneath her thigh, Aragorn pushed himself into her still moist entrance, sliding deep within with a pleasured groan. Idrelt elt sick as he pressed in as far as he could, adjusting himself then looking down on her with dominant, hazy eyes. "Can you feel me?" he asked, knowing the answer as she struggled with the feeling of him inside her. Dipping down, he traced his tongue along her ear and hissed, "I can feel you."

She wanted to wipe the tears from her eyes, to appear defiant and angry, but it was too much. Aragorn grinned as he positioned himself to thrust easily into her body, pulling back slow then rolling forward at such speed as to cause her to cry out in pain. Idril tried everything to shield it, but it could not be done. His sharp eyes watched her every expression and she could not avoid what he was doing to her. The sensations from his earlier molestation brought the occasional surge of pleasure into her body, but for the most part it was rough and painful. "I could give you bliss, but you ask for this instead," he panted, shoving into her hard. "Perhaps next time you will realize how muetteetter it could be."

His breath was hot on her face as he thrust wildly into her. Idril's body began to feel numb from the assault, and she slowly faded to dark, realizing the ordeal was over only when Aragorn's heavy body collasped onto her.

"My arms," she groaned as they screamed in pain. She tried to move, but he was too heavy.

With a long exhale, Aragorn finally pushed himself up and looked down on her with sated eyes. Idril bit her lip in pain as he pulled himself from her stinging body and adjusted his clothing. Without speaking, he took her by the shoulders and turned her over, gently undoing the binds around her wrists. As soon as she was free, she pushed herself to her knees and pulled down her nightdress, covering her dirty skin. She was too weak to do much els
H
He stood and adjusted the bracers on his wrists. "What will you do with me now?" she asked quietly, her throat burning.

Aragorn seemed to contemplate his answer. She shied away from looking at him as his eyes surveyed her. "It is your choice," he answered finally, "You can either submit to my will and return with me to my rooms, or remain here, dirty and in despair. Either way, your path is clear. You are mine for the taking, whenever I wish."

Idril closed her eyes. While she would never submit to him, if she was allowed back where everyone else was, perhaps she could get help. "I don't want to stay here."

"Very well." He lifted a folded cloak from the table and held it out to her. "Cover yourself."

Slowly and carefully, Idril pushed herself to her feet and took the garment, pulling it around her shoulders. It covered her nightdress, but did nothing to alter her worn appearance. Drawing the material around her body, she looked up at Aragorn, waiting for him to lead her out of the dungeon.

"You must understand something before we leave," he said, his eyes serious, "I will not tolerate attempts at trickery. If either of the Stewards asks how you are or what has happened, make it perfectly clear you have come to me of your own free will. Otherwise, I will have to deal with them in a way I know you would not approve."

It made her ill to think about what he was implying. Shhe knew she had no other option but to agree. "I understand."

Aragorn took her by the shoulder and led her to the door. Opening it, he allowed her to exit. "You will learn to enjoy the days you have left," he said softly, leading her up the dark stairway to the city above, "Not that there are many left for any of us."

She wondered if that was true. Above ground, it appeared to be late morning and the streets were bustling with activity. Many of the cityfolk nodded their greetings to the King, completely ignoring Idril and her state. If this was the life she could lead, one filled with rape and lonliness, she would prefer the death that Aragorn insisted was upon them.

It was a long way up to the highest level of the city. Idril's bare feet hurt from the gravel and pebbles, but Aragorn did not seem to notice or care, insisting she keep up with him. Her body was still worn from their encounter. At that moment she wanted nothing more than to scrub his touch from her skin.

At long last they approached the King's Hall. Sad had hoped to meet up with someone on their way up, anyone who would care to notice her condition. Thinking perhaps that was not to be, she ascended the stairs with anxiety in her heart.

Aragorn opened the door and walked in, expecting her to follow. She did so, but did not expect his quick pace to diminish so suddenly. At his hesitation, she looked past his shoulder. Boromir stood within the hall.

Once again the King picked up his pace. The Captain eyed them as they approached. "Where have you been?" he asked gruffly. Idril knew the question was not intended for her.

When they stopped in front of Boromir, though, she noticed his eyes glance over her. They narrowed, but she could not tell what he was thinking. "That is my concern, not yours," answered Aragorn, drawing the Captain's attention. The King looked back at Idril. "Come."

He brushed past Boromir. When she made to do so as well, knowing Boromir disliked her and would probably not care how she was treated, she was surprised to feel a heavy hand grasp her shoulder and stop her in her tracks.

Aragorn noticed immediately that she was not following. She looked up at Boromir, then at the King. His eyes flashed in anger. "Let her go, Boromir."

The Captain's strong hand drew her back. He looked at her appraisingly, as though not quite sure she could be trusted. "Faramir was looking for you. Where have you been?"

Nervous and unsure of how to answer, she glanced at the King. "She was with me. Now, if you care for your life, you will release her." Idril looked away and crossed her arms.

Boromir did not relent, but this time he did not speak to her. Releasing her shoulder, he stepped towards the King. "What were you doing with her?" he asked, his tone plain.

Aragorn matched the Captain's glare. "What do you care?"

Pursing his lips, he raised an eyebrow and responded, "I care."

Idril swallowed heavily when Aragorn smiled. "Ask her why we were together. She will tell you what is true."

Boromir turned and looked over his shoulder. His expression expected nothing but honesty from her but, out of fear, she could not deliver. Averting her eyes, she stammered a reply. "We...we care for one another."

There was silence. Biting her lip, she ventured a look up. Boromir's expression had not changed. "You see," said Aragorn, moving past the Steward towards her, "Our relationship is none of your concern." He took her hand.

She waited in agony for a response from Boromir. Whatever he was thinking would affect everything that would happen to her. "Well," he said, and she met his eyes. They were unapologetic. "My mistake."

Idril felt her entire body go numb. He was going to let her go. Tightening his hand around hers, Aragorn nodded to the Captain. "I leave the city in your hands this day, Boromir," he said, leading her towards his rooms, "Do not bother us."

"As you wish, my lord." On the verge of tears, she glanced back at Boromir just as they turned a corner. He didn't even watch them go.

*

TBC